Quest I. Vox Populi, Vox Dei [Priskil marked + Torc]

[Torc Ironwood]

Torc smiled at Xalet and Amarhyl though they didn't say much, the pair were decent and good people. Torc allowed his own Gnosis mark to slowly give him a sense of the people are him. Cheva had given him a mark to help him understand the connections that people made and how to strengthen them. Torc could feel the purpose that Xalet needed, some type of goal that he needed to strive for. Amarhyl was something else, he could feel the sense of wanting to learn, but also wanting to do so alone. So as Torc listened with tilted head and became a receptive person to their ideas, he was caught off guard when another woman came into the mix. Torc wasn't really sure how he felt as Jiliste continued to talk and force his handshake. It felt very odd the manner of her introduction and as she went on Torc realized it was a subtle power game. In part forcing Torc to recognize that they were all here because of him, waiting to make other people feel that she was smart because of her guess, and to top it all off force Torc to say he was an outsider at the same time… and strangely Torc didn't care. Torc smiled like he was barely containing laughter. It was so much ego to stress the situation, she was obviously very smart. Why hadn't she merely sat back and took joy in guess right? Torc stood smiling his stupid grin at Jiliste for a moment or two. Not a season before this Torc had been threaten by Lhex the god of fate. Just looking into his eyes had cast serious doubt upon his soul as to whether he had choice or not, and this un-blinking cold Nuit was playing a power game with him. "So let me see if I have this right… Jiliste from Yahebah. Since overhearing our conversation, you have guessed that I am reason for this gathering. You gave us a percentage to make yourself seem humble, but still educated so we can marvel in your intelligence?" Torc raised an eyebrow slightly. "And instead of being genuine and kind, you choose to trap me in our logic. So now if I answer yes or no, you can assure others that I am lying or that it was your brilliance that brought out the truth, even if the truth isn't mine to give." Torc seemed to nod. "Well done, Jiliste, your guess is just as valid as Xalet." After all she was the one who decided to play games. Torc decided he was going to call her on it, and perhaps if she could talk kindly to good people he would give her answers that she wanted. Yet responding to a smart child that screamed look how smart I am, was not how he wanted to deal with anyone. Torc dismissed Jiliste by turning his and looking at the other two, "What I was going to say was that Xalet certainly had a positive guess. I was talking a gentleman earlier that felt Priskil had gathered everyone to announce he was going to be her champion." Torc shrugged, "Personally, I don't have any interest in a matter like that, being marked by Cheva myself, but to each their own." Torc smiled at Amarhyl, "Before you ask…. I don't sell love potions." Torc winked at her. "Besides I am sure there is a boy you left behind looking everywhere for you." Torc laughed and smiled, "Did you know that Xalet here is a squire in Syliras?" Torc turned his head and looked at Xalet, "Tell us Xalet, have you ever met the Wind Oak, and if so what was your impression of him?" OOCHey everyone, going on vacation today and will be back Monday, I am going to try and post when I get back home, but I might be slow. Also Jiliste, I love you…. But did you have to come in playing hard ball right away? Torc is a hugger! Not a Power Mad Nuit! Peace and Love, Man!

[Jilitse]

OOCWe need an anti-thesis! I don't want to be cute and meek nemore! *kisses* Jilitse laughed at Torc's reaction. It was not a humorous laugh, just a plain hahaha that sounded flat and mocking. "You must be mistaken, Torc, for I had not implied that I had guessed correctly. And my intelligence is not something to marvel about." She looked at Xalet and Amarhyl, shaking her head ever so slowly as if to say, 'he is sorely mistaken, I am appalled at his suggestion'. "I am merely suspicious of your presence. No need to be so defensive, Isur." She couldn't remember if Torc arrived before or after her. There was just so many people. She tried to keep track of the significant people this time around, especially those at the round table. Torc name-dropped his own deity, a clue, perhaps, but insignificant at that. She folded her arms and tipped her head to the side, sending a stare back at Torc Ironwood. Fishes are caught by their lips, she thought, and Torc had denied the accusation - he seemed to have taken it as that - and quickly changed the topic. She would know soon enough if she was correct.

[Xalet]

Xalet liked Amarhyl. Not because of her appearance or any particular personal philosophies she may have had, but because she was relatively normal. The squire was now dealing with two grievous improprieties. First was Jilitse whom, when standing before his predatory akalak eyes, had absolutely no heat signature. That meant she was cold blooded. Or dead. Despite this, she somehow had managed to acquire a mark of Priskil. Xalet wasn't quite the erudite many others of his race were, partly due to his young age and also due to the emphasis he had upon the more physical aspects of life. Even with his lack of formal knowledge on the subject, he wasn't even sure such a thing was possible. An undead with a mark of Priskil? Was she a Nuit? Xalet knew of them, but had never formed any type of conversation with one.

Now he was forced with quite an ironic situation. As an akalak from a city completely dominated by humans, he was often seen with mistrust and suspicion. Now it was he looking upon another race with the exact same stereotypical view. It was ok though, wasn't it? Nuits didn't have feelings or anything to harm, did they? Xalet couldn't even comprehend their existence, let alone how one of them managed to befriend the radiant Lady herself.

To make things even more uncomfortable he had an Isur speaking of the Windoak. As a squire Xalet had very limited information on the Windoak, except knowing that it was an important symbol and potentially held some mystical powers. To personify it was completely out of his range of knowledge. Although the akalak was relatively straight faced, showing only minor lowering or lifting of his lips to indicate a grin or a frown, internally he was filled with emotions, several of which were currently in conflict with one another. Rather then question Torc directly about his knowledge and have more information spilled to folks like the young human girl and the undead, Xalet instead kept his response simple with, "I've no idea what you're talking about." In time he would have to determine if Torc was once a Knight, and if not, who had been speaking with him about the Windoak. If they were mortal and not some deity feeling it necessary to gift Torc with information, such a person would of course need to be immediately slain.

Dealing with Jilitse was much more difficult. Xalet was curious why Torc seemed to be the odd one out, not having any markings of Priskil. He felt comfortable to assume that if he did not belong amongst the others he would not have been able to set foot in the presence of the Lady herself. Jilitse did carry the mark. How did something with no true life understand friendship? Still, Xalet did not seem to be intent on overtly calling Jilitse out. He was direct but still had his sense of honor. If Priskil felt Jilitse worthy of her mark he wouldn't question why, but he would question, "As we wait I will particpate in the small talk. Madam Jilitse, how did you acquire your mark?"

[Amarhyl]

OOCI just realized after writing this that Amarhyl says absolutely nothing! Sorry for being boring :3 Amarhyl turned, a little surprised as yet another entered the loose gathering the trio had made. It was a woman, though there was something… different about her. The girl could not quite put her finger on it. She gave a small smile and a nod before shaking the offered hand, feeling the connection between them thanks to Priskil. There was something else in the handshake, something hidden beneath the warmth of the mark, but the woman had pulled back and all Amarhyl could do was speculate. The young girl was too naïve to fully understand the power game the woman was playing with Torc, and so she glanced at the Isur with surprise. She wracked her brain for a reason that this man could be the centre of it all and, almost at the exact moment the newcomer said it, something clicked. She hadn’t felt the blessing of the Goddess on him at all. Amarhyl had no idea why it had taken her so long to realize. Most likely it was that the young girl was completely overwhelmed with the whole situation. She was suddenly curious as to how and why the Isur was here. It was almost certain that Priskil had bought him herself; she couldn’t see him being able to enter this place of his own accord. She blinked and tried to follow the reply Torc was giving the woman – Jiliste. She surmised that the statement was neither accepted nor denied, which only piqued the young girl’s curiosity further. As he added Cheva’s name to the mix, she saw the smile he shot her way, and she made to stammer a retort. However none came to her, and the man had continued to speak, so she remained silent trying not to let a blush creep into her cheeks. The other man, Xalet seemed to be staying as silent as she was. She had noticed him studying the woman with some odd expression, and she felt certain that he had noticed the same thing she had done. When he finally did speak, directing a question Jiliste’s way, she turned to the woman, curious. Naturally everyone would have their own answers, each would have been blessed in different circumstances.

[Jilitse]

She gave a slight nod at Xalet. She found the truth to be quite the tool sometimes, both to surprise people and measure their character. For the first time a flicker of determination flared her eyes, "You could say I am a sworn enemy of Drainira." She added for good measure in case the name was unfamiliar, "Sagallius champion." She paused, to let them absorb the gravity of such a claim. "You could say I had it coming." Me, she said, not the Orphanage -- for wasn't she target, she who was carrying Marie Suzanne? She deliberately left Stitch out of her tale, because she was well aware that the Knight of Syliras would rather deny that their defenses had been vulnerable to such an attack. Xalet, as a squire, might have even been left out of the truth. Most Sylirans did not even know the real story behind the burning of the Welcome Home. Less talk, less mistake. "My friend and I, we had a special visit from Drainira that day. We suffered great losses. I was about to die." And then one more pause. Death was a poison in her lips. She didn't want another dance with Dira. "I was already after Priskil even before that, you see, but not for religious reasons. I was in the assumption that she might want to bring the fight to the Benshiran." She momentarily forgot that she was clothed in Benshiran clothes. The chill of Taldera seeped into her bones. She would fight for the one person most precious to her, in this life and the next. "I called upon her at my darkest hour," a tale possibly familiar to those who had called upon the Goddess of Last Resort, "and she came and saved me. We had a little - you could say - heart to heart talk afterwards. Refused to be called Goddess, insisted that I was a friend. Saved my life, you see." She loosened her folded arms and showed Xalet her bandaged hand. "I received this as a blessing, to remind me that I have a well of hope. That I should never give up." There was something pure and honest in her words, and if anyone of them tried to pick the hints, they might even be led to believe that Jilitse has been suffering for the longest time. The tale had been told, questions might be asked afterwards. The issue of Torc being a non-marked slowly faded away. Or not. "I mean no disrespect, but may I also inquire how you received your gnosis mark from Priskil?" She looked at Xalet first, and would enjoin Amarhyl to exchange her story as well. Without meaning to do so, Jil had inadvertently emphasized that Torc's presence was an anomaly among Priskil's followers. To show the Isur that she meant no harm or agression because of his lack of a gnosis from Priskil, she also asked him if he was willing to share his story about his deity. As he spoke, if he ever allowed Jil to hear his own tale, Jil's mind kept on wondering. Why today, of all days? Surely the Goddess would not summon people to the Order's HQ for no reason at all? While Jilitse talked with the group, she decided to dart her eyes around, trying to feel if there was anybody else in the room who, like Torc, did not bear the light on his palm. Yet there was also something missing from Torc, something Jilitse could not pinpoint at this time. Instead, her memory gave her something else to think about. A memory passed by: where was Ialari Pythone today, and what could that Isur be involved in? In some ways she seemed to be similar to Torc, yet in a number of ways, they were quite very different. Hum hum. Where was her pipe when she needed it?

[Xalet]

Xalet truthfully wasn't expecting such a thorough story. In fact he was struck momentarily speechless. In retrospect Xalet had very little true life experiences, having lived within Syliras since he was old enough to keep his memories with him. He had never faced a true life or death situation. He had been tired, injured, and thrashed, but never felt his life was ever truly in danger.

Thinking about something so simple as life experience suddenly brought a serious sense of self-doubt to Xalet. Though he kept the outward appearance of such pressure to a near standstill, inside he was already recognizing that he was not yet even a Knight. Here he was, inside of the sanctuary provided by Priskil. Was it what he deserved?

"Teh..." that was a particular feeling stemming from a source he had fought back for a long time. Through his discomfort the dark half crept upward, almost like a spiritual regurgitation. Already it's poisonous thoughts invaded Xalet's mind. "I hear lots of Nuits commit suicide when they discover their meaningless unlife. This one should have taken the suggestions of her race and let death come."

Xalet appeared to be in physical discomfort for a moment, almost like his stomach was upset. It was the most visible manifestation of any emotion he had shown yet, but for anyone that literally blinked at the inopportune time the look was gone in the span of that split second. It was his struggle to stay dominant at all costs. The dark one was too uncouth for a meeting like this, what a disaster it would be if he got his say. "I feel no disrespect from your inquiry, madam Jilitse. I met the Lady in Syliras when I was young. I remember her well, she was the first human to acknowledge me on purpose. I helped her, she offered me a peach, I accepted though I do not enjoy them. I told her my goal, she supported it." It wasn't difficult to see, Xalet was absolutely terrible at telling a story. Not in the way a drunken man stumbled through a tale, but in a completely separate level of failure. There was no embellishment, no artistic linguistics, it was simply facts in chronological order, like some market grocery list.

[Tarot]

The day passed by in some sort of pleasant trepidation. Hidden deep in the heart of the Talderan forests, Zagaria felt like a place outside the ebb and flow of time. It gave off a feeling of safety, but not of the complacent kind that lulls you into letting down your guard. It was a militant place, though not exactly in the military sense either. People were always doing something here, no matter how simple or casual, and gaining some sort of unexplainable wisdom in the process. This day-long chat was no exception, for the marked of Priskil walked out of it with greater awareness of each other, their values, and where they stood in the world. Amarhyl, Jilitse and Xalet would learn as much today, if they didn't already know. The oddity that was Torc Ironwood didn't need reminding, for he walked with Cheva, to whom such connections were paramount. At last, at sunset, the goddess walked into the room with the last person - a raven-haired woman in her thirties, dressed in leather armor and walking with her back straight. When Priskil did not turn around to fetch the next friend and instead closed the double doors behind her, the gathering acknowledged that the meeting was about to begin, and by the look of things it was likely to drag throughout the night. Priskil and the woman beside her walked to the round table and encouraged everyone else to do the same. Normally, there would have been enough seats around the table to accommodate the entire audience, but today many participants would have to either stand or sit further back on the chairs set against the wall and only watch the meeting from a distance. The seats around the table were kindly offered to the elderly and those who weren't comfortable with standing for hours if needbe. Priskil didn't sit, either. She had no special seat or position around the table, at any rate. If not for the tiniest glow that escaped her porcelain complexion a stranger would have been hard-pressed to single her out in the crowd. She was wearing in a flowing off-white dress that fell all the way to her feet, in a fashion befitting the wife of the castle's lord. Her long dark hair was similarly plaited in an old-fashioned tress. She politely covered her mouth as she cleared her voice, thereby cutting down all the murmuring in the hall. “Welcome home, my friends," she allowed herself to spread her arms just a little and smiled. “I thank you for coming on such short notice. For a great many of you, this is the first time even seeing this place. Zagaria is your sanctuary, should you ever need to take refuge in here. It is not exactly the most accessible place on Mizahar, but if you ask one of the veterans they'll tell you the secret paths they've been using for years. While I do not recommend entering the Talderan forests alone, the trek is a little easier if you wear my mark." The goddess spoke in a gentle, even tone. “It's been an eventful year, but I will let Dina here provide the detailed accounting. I would just like to remark that, this year, I made nineteen friends, many of whom are standing around this table tonight. It fills me with untold happiness to have your friendship. At the same time, it is with great sadness that I must announce the passing of seventeen friends this year." She looked genuinely distressed over the loss of so many friends. The woman standing at her side - Dina, as she'd been referred to - shook her head at the announcement as well as the numbers. She kept telling Priskil that the Order needed to grow more, that it was barely making up for its losses. But you couldn't simply command a goddess' friendship. It came when it came, for no particular reason other than the special alchemy between two people. “Adeline Sorros," Priskil recited the names of the fallen. “Squire Randall Watts. Rimiel, son of Adelbiel. Grandmother Oyuri. Ssssfasshiriviss. Young peg-legged Gregory." And so on, name after name. Some of them caused considerable grief among several members of the gathering. “A chime of silence for the fallen," Priskil asked of her devoted, and bowed her head for the full duration of that chime. When she finally spoke again, she introduced the woman standing at her side. She had short-trimmed nails and three vortex marks were clearly visible on the back of her hands. “This is Weliardina Allon," said the goddess, finding her smile again, “but she hates her name and packs a mean right so I would suggest you call her Dina. She devotes most of her time to Zagaria and is the main reason this place is run as efficiently as it is. I don't know how I managed all this time without her. As usual, I am leaving the general reports to Dina as she can tell you twice as much in half the words. If you please, Dina." Weliardina Allon simply nodded. There was something of the drill sergeant to this woman, “the taskmistress" as she often went by around Zagaria. You could half-expect her to start calling you ‘maggot' any time. Priskil may be a splendid friend, but she had a hard time with discipline. Dina had no such problem. “Thanks, Priskil. There have been several events worthy of note since the Order last gathered, but I will keep this report to the bare minimum as this is not the reason we have been assembled here. Of the Heartstealer, we can say he's been relatively quiet, which is very worrisome. We have reports of internal struggles within his ranks, though. As you may or may not know, his former champion before the golem Drainira released herself from Sahova was a human woman old beyond belief and known simply as the ‘Crone'. She is likely from the magically-altered Alahean royal line, a survivor of the Valterrian who found herself without a job when Drainira replaced her. We have no further information on this account, but Sagallius always fixes his troubles in-house, often drawing from the lowest ranks of his troops." Dina poured herself a glass of water from one of the jugs on the table and took a sip before continuing. Her voice sounded a little gravelling, as if she'd been yelling a lot. “Drainira herself is building up her forces off-world. We have obtained the Astral Coordinates for that world." There were murmurs at this, but she quieted them down with a sharp gaze. “It is a long story, but Priskil told me the friend involved in this is among us today, and maybe she will step forward and share the tale later this night. We are stretched too thin to launch a full-scale attack on their stronghold, however. I would like to bring your attention to something else. Drainira has not been spotted for months now, and we have reason to believe she is using a magical artifact to somehow... evolve further. If you ever encounter something that looks to be a girl in her twenties and has strange speech patterns and even stranger body language, do NOT confront her for ANY reason. Just learn as much as you can and report to Priskil next time she visits you." Another glass of water. “Finally, we have been investigating a strange occurrence outside the city of Syliras last year. You Sylirans might remember a castle rising overnight in the woods amidst green fire and crumbling the very next day. This event may or may not be related to Sagallius, but it's been referred to as the ‘Game' and Drainira has showed interest in it. We are still assembling a team to find out more about this. That's about it." Dina placed her palms on the table, stepped back and looked at Priskil, who nodded. “Thank you, Dina. That is important news, and you may be wondering what kind of revelation could possible overshadow these developments. Well, I will not have you wait any longer. We have a honored guest among us, Master Torc Ironwood, lately of Wind Reach. It is only fitting that he be the one to tell this story. Please do not interrupt him no matter how badly you want to. Wait for him to finish before you ask your questions. You know how I dislike playing teacher on these meetings, so if you just don't speak over each other we won't have to do the raised hand routine." She smiled at Torc. “You have your audience... may I call you Torc? We are quite informal as far as orders go."

[Torc Ironwood]

Torc listened to Jiliste as she spoke about her mark. Torc was never one to judge or question people about their past. To him, the past might define a person but it didn’t mean they couldn’t change or become something else. In fact, hadn’t that happened with him and the meeting with Lhex, the god of fate had made him see that deep inside he was a maker, and that in itself had began to build a confidence in him. Like Jiliste, Xalet kept his encounter brief, so when they turned to Torc, he decided to speak about his own history with the same attitude. “Perhaps it was Fate or just chance, but I was living in Zeltiva at the time when a flyer crossed my path. It contained little information, but it spoke about an expedition to a far off city called Wind Reach. Why I left the comfort of Zeltiva and my job as a magecrafting apprentice for the university, I am not really clear about but I did anyway. I travelled to Syliras and spoke to the man organizing the expedition, it turns out that… he had some pull with the knights and church, and we went to… a sacred place within the citadel.” Torc looked at Xalet, he didn’t understand the real reason behind the secrecy of the tree, but he would respect the wishes of the squire. He did his best not to speak of the tree nor of the truth behind it. “I was granted a vision... Never had I seen such a noble act, nor have I felt so humble from what I saw. So I went forth from this sacred site with a quest. During this quest, Cheva appeared to me… and requested I make her something. I wish I could tell you that I have loved more deeply and more true than anyone else, but the truth was that she saw in me that I made connections to various things. I was a maker, and that creation was… is at the very core of my being. She gave me a mark to help me understand the connections I needed to create the item, and since then I have realized that I have the urge to create thing with my hands. My Djed or soul seems to surge through my hands and I must create, but lately I have felt the urge become more powerful than before. That is my story…” Torc stood quiet thinking about everything that had happened and everything that he had kept secret. Too many secrets… too many hidden things that Torc had been forced to keep secret. At times it weighed on his soul, but soon he would be able to address the crowd and tell them his own secret. He remained quiet for a little while listening to the others if they had conversation or a story, but something about his face told them that he would speak no more. ~ Torc watched the Goddess introduce her champion to the crowd. As he listened, he became more sure that he had done the right thing. Priskil wasn’t like other Gods or Goddesses, she alone treated her people with justice and freedom. When she addressed Torc he simply smiled and for a moment felt love for the Goddess. It wasn’t like the overwhelming love for Cheva or Mona, but the love recognized between good people, for that one moment he wanted to give her a hug and tell her that no matter what he wouldn’t stop trying to make Aquiras a new heart. “My lady, since meeting your fine friends I would be honored if you don’t find the need to address me formally.” He bowed briefly and began looking out at the crowd. He allowed the quiet to settle about him, and for a moment he tried to think of the right words. Realizing that his real give was that of a maker and seeing connections he decided to start at the beginning. “I have recently come to realize that events big or small have a chain reaction that can cause ripples far reaching. Though we choose to do something, that choice forces others to react and those choices continue creating reactions. Five hundred years ago, a man made a choice to hurt your friend’s loved one. He choose to steal his heart so that he could ascend to godhood.” Torc pause for a moment, letting that vile act briefly catch in the hearts of the people around him. “For five hundred years you have stood as guardians against that… creature. Your reactions have been to create hope and peace against impossible odds, and I thank you all for that.” “As you struggled with fighting against such a force, generations were born and died. The world changed, and people began to change with it. Reactions and choices were made that led us to a choice I made and started…” Torc stopped for a moment. His hands trembled and his face felt flush. Torc thought about Lhex’s eyes, how the infinity of thousands of choices and decisions had led Torc to that day in Wind Reach. “The reasons why I started what I did seem foolish now, but it led me down a path that began to consume my thoughts. My soul began to earn to create something that would bring me prestige and recognition from my own goddess, but the real truth is that my soul wanted to create, for I am a Maker.” The words sounded strange coming from Torc’s mouth, and for one brief moment Torc cursed Lhex in his mind. The God had forced him to recognize the creation within him. “So creation began to bleed into me, and I felt the power aching in my hands. As the idea formed in me, I first thought I was crazy… but that idea took root within me and I started down a path.” “That idea was to create a new heart for Aquiras.” Torc let the words fall from his mouth. In a way it felt good purge the idea from his soul, and to Torc it felt good that the world had finally heard his voice speak of it. “As soon as the idea had formed in me, Kelwyn found me. They seemed to think such an idea was… well to put it nicely a lost cause to say the least. They gave me a way to find the information that I was looking for, and I took it.” Torc seemed unsure about if he should tell the gathered people where he received his information, but it seemed that it would stop some questions afterwards. “I... traveled to Lhex’s domain and talked to the God about how I could create a new heart for Aquiras. After some words that will forever change me…” Torc seemed to pull into himself for a second thinking about that encounter he had with the God of fate. Shivering he pulled himself back, “I was given a list of events or ingredients to create a new heart for Aquiras. I seek to help your friend’s love one, and I have come here asking for help in my quest.” Torc felt very humble at that moment, he felt like the die was rolling once again. He had been true to himself… more true in that last few moments about what he was then in the past few years. I am a Maker, and creation is shameless, and with that Torc raised his head to hear questions, and the inevitable comments about his sanity.

[Xalet]

Xalet was one of the folks that chose to stand. Chivalry kept him from taking up a seat when a woman, youth, or elderly person could be utilizing it, and size made it easy for him to stand behind a crowd and still see everything that was being done or said quite clearly. When Weliardina Allon began to speak it made the squire feel almost like he was back home. The posture and vocalization of a militant person was familiar to him, having spent many days at the receiving end of such drilling. Though his current Patron was softer of voice when required, he had his share of strict trainers.

He listened to the name of Drainira, just as madam Jilitse had spoken. So she was genuine. That in itself began to inch its way through Xalet's often cluttered thoughts, but it was a name the akalak would have to remember. Being a Gods champion was something Xalet found himself in both awe and envy of. This Drainira had chosen poorly however, representing herself with an entity that valued self evolution at the cost of others. Just as his Patron had always said, to gain something you must give something up, but those things must not be at the cost of others. The cost must be personal, it should always be personal.

Listening further it became clear that things were just as Jilitse had predicted, so it was Torc. "Hm." Xalet grinned what could just be called a miniscule amount as Torc took his bow and began addressing everyone. His talk of creation, choices, and Lhex. It seemed like Torc had certainly been around the divine block, so to speak. If what he was saying was true, he had taken quite a few steps in order to achieve the goal of...a new heart for Aquiras? So, their meeting did involve Aquiras. Now everything became much less obscure.

Crossing his arms upon his armored chest for a moment, Xalet thought to himself of any pertinent questions he could raise. However, in the end there were only one. The akalak was a warrior before he was a tactician, and after years of training was almost more knight than man. Was it crazy? Who knew. Priskil believed in it, otherwise Torc would not have been there. That was good enough for him. Thus he raised his hand slightly and asked the one thing on his mind, "Ok. When do we begin?"

[Jilitse]

OOCJust being in character! I love you guys! *Kisses hottie Isur* The one without shadows. Priskil had told Jilitse about Welliardina before, or was that Wilhelmina? She was surprised for a moment, she was sure she could perfectly recall names at a wink. She was the one who was willing to bring the fight to Sagallius. For a while memories of people she had encountered since her release in Sahova sank and float. Malia had offered her an alliance before - which was politely declined, of course. Here around her were allies in faith, allies in the fight against Sagallius and the deceit that he stood for. These were people she didn't mind being allied with. But where was Azola / Malia right now, Jilitse wondered. The Benshiran Jilitse froze where she stood as the meeting began. She bowed her head solemnly, and joined in the silence that proclaimed the passing away of people from the Order. Did they die by the hands of another being, creature, did Vayt give them a kiss, did they die out there in the battlefield of life fighting for something they firmly believed in? Will there be a time when Priskil would deliver her from Dira and speak her name to commemmorate her death among her friends? Jilitse was too old, her death wouldn't be missed. But if to death's bosom she shall return, she wanted to die fighting. Die for Mashaen. By the time Dina started speaking, Jilitse had started moving towards the back. She didn't want to mingle in the throng of people, as an undead had a stench not many could tolerate. Even the balm and fluids used to preserve the body could offend anyone's nose. She listened about Sagallius, and later Drainira. She squirmed uncomfortably as the champion spoke of Opportunity, grimaced when her existence was briefly mentioned. It occured to her that the Order, or some of them, fought and lived and died against Sagallius. Mashaen was right, Priskil was where she should begin. The Archwizard did not foresee however, that his mediocre of an apprentice will have to forge a new self in order to fight alongside the Goddess of Hope. She could become a heroine in her own tale! It sounded daunting, but would a regular person ever think of bringing down a God and his champion? Hope surged from within the depths of her soul. That was when Dina's words punched her back into becoming an Animator. The golem had found itself a mobile body, and was now searching for ways to evolve? Jilitse had to get back to her books, especially Project D. If she could only follow in her mentor's footsteps she could reengineer Drainira! She paused, realizing that she was getting ahead of herself. Such ambition, she never had any ambition past that of serving Archwizard Mashaen... Jil recoiled from her thoughts when Priskil spoke again. The Nuit had her earlier suspicions against Torc - which was an understatement, for the Nuit always had suspicions about everyone around her. It came no surprise to Jilitse when the man-Isur was brought forward to speak. Ha! She whispered to herself, I was right. The one without a light. She listened to him speak, of Cheva and Kelwyn and Lhex, and read in his words those of limited lifelines would not be able to read. The logic of it all was a ball of yarn that one with the right methods could easily unravel. Creating a new heart for Aquiras wasn't something people thought of everyday, the way nobody really waged war against Drainira and Sagallius just because. Jilitse's motive was the fulfillment of a promise, but somehow she was very very dissatisfied with Torc's words. A Maker. A Creator. Jilitse couldn't supress her opinions of the man. He might be going down the path of mistake Mashaen had treaded before. And so after everyone had voiced their approval, after Torc had delivered his answers to their curious questions, she became the first voice of dissent. She resisted the urge to speak formally, "Good day, it is my first time here in Zagaria. My name is Jilitse, lately of Yahebah," she went around the bush, "and I am acquainted with Sagallius in a previous life." She continued, should other people misinterpret, "I lived before the Valterrian, and I had served as errand girl for Sagallius, before becoming apprentice to the leader of Sahova, the Archwizard Zarik Mashaen, the man who created Drainira. I have been with... Drainira for more than five centuries, and was witness to her escape from Sahova." She pulled off her veil, revealing the face of a no-longer-young woman with pale skin with faint hues of blue and green - she was undead - if her weary blue eyes did not reveal that fact, then the manner in which she spoke, a slow monotonous cadence with no breaths, stated her unlife. She was from Sahova. Whatever brought her to Yahebah, anyway? "I would understand the enthusiasm with Torc's quest. Here we are with the recipe for a God's heart, and maybe Aquiras would finally wake from slumber at the end of it all," She nodded, and gave off the feeling that she wanted it to happen so. Yet she continued voicing her argument, "But there are a number of things I would like to be put forward to the table before a decision is made. With all due respect," she threw her eyes at Priskil, but did not wait for an approval to continue her words. It was evident to Jilitse that Priskil brought her followers to Zagaria because of Torc's endeavor, that the Goddess would want to consult with her followers before making an important decision. "I have received a request from Drainira's creator. The golem supervisor needs to be destroyed." She assumed that the people, most of them anyway, knew who Drainira was, what she was, and what she was capable of. "I implore you," her voice, though soporific, pleaded, "consider the error of Archwizard Mashaen." "He is an animator, and so am I. Some of you may frown upon the fact that we create life upon our own hands. That point aside, Drainira was meant to be a Supervisor to the Citadel of Sahova, if anything else, then nothing more than a slab of stone." Jilitse filled them in with the one worry that some have failed to weigh, "I mean no disrespect to Izurdin, but there are creators who mean no evil but create something too ambitious, succeed in it, yet end up with something else entirely at the end of it all." Jil hurt herself with those words. Still, she played on her words a little more before driving the point home. "What if we succeed in creating a God's heart? What if we do." She let them considered the possibility of success. Jilitse knew when to pause at the words that challenged people's minds. "Let us say that among of all us, there will be those who will be willing to assist Torc, let us say these people succeed. What is the guarantee that it will be used to restore Aquiras heart, that it will work the way it is supposed to, that it will not end up with its own mind like Drainira?" Like its own soul, she wanted to say. "And more than that," Jilitse spoke more softly, less belligerent, "should we wish to pursue this," Jil could understand and relate to Priskil's love of Aquiras. Her promise to the Goddess that she will bring back Aquiras' heart was not forgotten, and she would help if her help was needed. She just had a little reservations on Torc's invitation, "What do we do in the event that Sagallius catches wind of our task and intercept us the moment the heart is completed? He would surely want a godsheart of his own! But more than that, what of the other deities who would want to stake claim in the heart of a god? What of ambitious demi-gods who are waiting to ascend into godhood?" Her eyes were cold blue stone, reflecting her resolve. She finally understood why Priskil had to haul her here from Yahebah. But petch why was it so cold? "If the Order is barely keeping up with the fight against Sagallius, what then if we make more enemies by entertaining this quest?" Jilitse just wanted the bases to be covered, she had many bodies to spare - as long as there was an available body to jump into in the event of grave would or fatality - but she only had one life to live. And it had to count for killing Drainira, for killing Sagallius, for saving Aquiras. Think before acting, as the old saying goes. The Nuit went silent after her long speech and waited for a voice of reason. Maybe Torc himself would quell Jilitse's ramblings.