Closed Something in the Air

[Prophet]

2nd of Winter, 516 AV
8th Bell

The man stared out over the grasses as they swayed in the warm breeze. It should be cold and there should be snow flying over the earth but there wasn’t. The weather was not according to schedule and there was blame to be had. Sadly, it would mean hard times for a long while to come but life would be more difficult for some than others. Roused from his sleep by a burning of his mark, the priest got out of bed and fell to his knees in prayer to seek the will of his lord. It turns out that road trips were not beyond the call of duty for the devout follower. His green eyes shifted to his companions and then to the jostling load of supplies in their wagon. It turns out that he wasn’t the only one who had a task to perform. The older man and the young woman had shared similar stories and now they were all riding and bouncing along in the Sea of Grass just waiting to be discovered by the Drykas.

It had been days since they had last seen a person or a road or anything resembling civilization. Despite their common goal, it had not been smooth sailing for the trio of strangers. Each personality had ebbs and flows but they didn’t always mesh with one another. According to their plan, forged by the divine, th roaming city of horsemen should reveal itself at any time. Oddly enough, the Sea of Grass was a loud place. Bugs, birds, animals and the wind all created a chatter that was ceaseless in its groaning. The priest was beginning to wonder if the cacophony wasn’t starting to drive him mad. He rubbed his temples and then his eyes because he thought he had seen a person. When he opened them again, the man was still sitting there atop a beautiful black and white horse. He held a spear but did not have an expression or a posture that relayed aggression.

The younger man leaned over and tapped the older man on the arm. “Joseph, stop the horses. There is a rider.” He extended his arm to point at the rider who remained in plain sight and unmoving. Hearing the news, the salt and pepper-haired man pulled back on the reins with his gloved hands. The action slowed the team of great Semes until the wagon came to an absolute stop. Both men just watched their observer at first but whispered questions soon arose from the waiting stalemate. “Do you think there are more of them?”

“Certainly. One man isn’t a welcoming party by himself. Besides, if he was alone, he wouldn’t be letting us see him.” The older man had a deeper tone in his voice but it was much smoother and almost melodic. He had a relaxed way of sitting and a very calm expression.

“You’re probably right, Joseph. Do you think it’s true what they say about the Drykas having magic that covers the entire Sea of Grass?” The crisp emerald wells darted around as if trying to see the supposed net of djed that covered the fields of Cyphrus. “I heard that Drykas love their horses more than their families. I hear-“

“I heard that you need to relax, Alladon!” Joseph interrupted his companion. The wiser of the two inclined his head at the man who was staring from across the grasses. The older man was confident, calm and always collected. He was not about to be rattled by a grassroots trick. For chimes, they sat and stared at one another. Finally, a rustling to their left brought the men’s attention to that area. Two men on horseback approached the wagon at a slow walk. Joseph smiled his charming grin and set right in with his usual banter. “Gentlemen. Thanks so much for showing up to escort us to your lovely town. We thought we might have been off course.”

The two Drykas looked at one another with looks of weak amusement. They exchanged signs with each other then signed something to the man who sat in front of the wagon. After a moment, he signed back and three other mounted Drykas appeared; two women and a fourth man. The riders steered their mounts up along both side of the wagon. One of the men looked at Joseph and Alladon and bowed his head in greeting. He held a thick accent but his Common was decent. “What is your business here?”

Joseph grinned and gave Alladon a wink before he turned back to address the man who spoke. “We are priests of the gods Sivah, Bala and Tavasi.” Both men revealed their marks for inspection. The Drykas nodded and looked back to Joseph. “Our patrons have sent us along with many like us into every city on Mizahar. Your help would be greatly appreciated, my good man.” Joseph struck an expression of solemn reverence as he locked eyes with the young scout.

The Drykas began passing signs about in plain sight of the strangers. It wasn’t like they could understand what was being said. Alladon was instantly enamored by the nonverbal communication and started paying close attention. Joseph rolled his eyes because his silver tongue was useless if he couldn’t talk. To occupy his time, the perpetual flirt began staring down the women with hungry eyes. After a few chimes, the Drykas smiled at the men and spoke in Common once more. “Come with us. We will take you to Endrykas.”

◰ ◱ ◲ ◳ ◰ ◱ ◲ ◳ ◰ ◱ ◲ ◳ ◰ ◱ ◲ ◳ ◰ ◱ ◲ ◳ ◰ ◱ ◲ ◳

When the wagon arrived in Endrykas with the Watch as escort, many heads turned to see what was going on. A single covered wagon of mundane quality was being driven right up to the center of town. When they arrive, the men piled out and stretched as one is wont to do after a long and uncomfortable journey. Joseph immediately began to approach women though most backed away or slapped at his advances until one of his escorts came and stood in front of the man with a stern glance and a hand on his ax. Alladon rolled his neck around until it cracked and then retrieved a scroll case from the wagon. He marched up to the tall poles adorned with thousands of colored ribbons and acted as if he was going to hang a scroll on it. Many Drykas rushed him and drove him back. The man quickly realized he was about to do something foolish and apologized with words but also bows since he felt like these people would react well to gestures.

He climbed up on the wagon and stood upon the bench. He was higher than any pavilion and took a few moments to gaze around and soak in the vastness of the Sea of Grass as well as the sheer size of Endrykas. The rolling landscape hides how large the city truly is and the priest was impressed. He cleared his throat and unfurled the scroll in his hands and began to read.

“Greetings Mizaharians!

It has come to our attention that the Goddess Morwen has refused to do her duty this Season and walk forth from Avanthal where she resides to spread winter across the land. This is an insult to us, the rest of the Seasons, and irresponsible to the core. There is no reason, great or small, for a Season to shirk their duty. And this is definitely what has happened.

There will be repercussions.

We have hired an elite group of people to make sure these repercussions happen. We have the support of the other Gods in this endeavor. We will hunt down every follower of Morwen - every single marked member of her 'family' - and call for their death. Yes. We are calling for the outright slaughter of Morwen's children until such a time as Morwen resumes her duty or steps aside.

We prefer that She steps aside and gives her powers over to another.

To this end will will send PRIESTS and PRIESTESSES of our faith to every city in the land. To assure the success of this venture, these followers will be paying a bounty on the bodies of any follower turned into them. A coin payoff of 1,000 Mizas will be the reward.

Without Winter happening, the land becomes seriously damaged. Snow packs don't accumulate so drought is guaranteed in the Spring and Summer of the land. Wildfires will abound. Insects will flood the land unchecked. They will damage crops and forests without mercy. Spring plants will bloom early and often miss the windows of their pollinators. Seeds that depend on winter freeze will not germinate. Animal migrations will be off schedule and some will starve and die. The predator season of plenty will not occur so that predators will be forced to move into population centers to find easier foodstuff and raze these areas.

We will show no Mercy to Morwen or Her followers for this gross derelict of duty. If She refuses to step down, we will be forced to replace her anyhow and we will do it with the strongest display of power we see during this manhunt. No one will be safe. And if someone is caught offering shelter to the Vantha marked by Morwen, such as a city or group, we will turn our wrath on them as well and include them in the bounty. Look for our Priests and Priestesses. Show them respect. Enjoy collecting the bounties they offer.

Lessons must be learned.

Bala, Tavasi & Sivah”

When he had finished, Alladon rolled the scroll back up and jumped down onto the grass. He peered around with his bright green eyes until he found someone who looked like they could help him. He asked a strong-looking, well-fed man in Common but spoke slowly and used actions to illustrate his words. “Is there a place I can hang this scroll? The images will help with the task of identifying the people I spoke of.” The man nodded and led him towards the Conclave with a wave of his hand.


NOTEMeadow is to post after me. Any posts made before her will be saved and deleted.

[Meadow]

Syna's light slowly began to fall over the awakening city of Endrykas. Even in the early morning hours there was already an unbearable heat that was beginning to settle over the city. Something was very wrong and everyone could feel it. The weather should be turning cold not getting hotter. The Conclave met quickly to try and figure out what was going on with the Gods. Were they trying to test the people of Mizahar? The leaders worried that if Morwen did not spread Winter soon then everything would be off balance all the next year. Herds would be moving sooner, there would not be any water in the smaller rivers and lakes that dotted the landscape, the predators would run out of food, and the vegetation would end up not blooming right; so much of their survival rested on the Goddess bringing the snow and cold.

“What do we do now?” Thomas Heartsong asked worriedly.

“One of Gods must have an answer,” Pratal growled pacing back and forth on edge.

“Everyone just remain calm, let's get a group of riders to search the Sea of Grass for anyone trying to find the city. Someone out there must know what is going on,” Quar'he offered as a solution.

“Why should we risk the lives of our people?” Pratal snarled through his teeth.

“Calm down Pratal. I do not know what has gotten under your skin, but Quar is right. It will not hurt a thing to see someone out looking,” Cyrus said in defense of his friend.

“Fine then,” Pratal grumbled knowing that if Eli joined in then he would easily be out voted this time.

“Cyrus do you have any men that could ride out with some of mine?” Eli inquired of the Watch leader.

“Yes, let's get them moving quickly,” The drykas said with a nod.

It took close to a bell for the two ankals to get the group gathered and headed out into the grass. Looking at each other then to the sky with worried expression, they could only pray that Zulrav would protect their people from harm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Korissa groaned in the back of the wagon as it continued to jostle on the uneven ground. She was ready to get out of the contraption. Riding on the horses was not much fun either with little to no practice on long journeys. It amazed the blonde woman just what all the horse clans had become accustomed to in order to survive day to day. The light talking between her two companions helped relax her nerves as they drew near. Or at least what they perceived as closer, there was no way for the two men and one woman to know exactly where they were. A sudden stop made the woman sit up and turn around peering over the seat up front spotting what Joseph and Allodon had seen. A lone rider just staring at the three people.

“Not alone?” She asked gently confused looking around not seeing anyone else.

When the others suddenly appeared out of the grass, Korissa became slightly nervous. How long had they been watching the three friends. Soft eyes looked over to Joseph wondering if she needed to speak with them, or if he would instead. Her question quickly got answered when he began speaking to the horsemen and women. Looking them over, the woman couldn't help but stop on their hands watching rather amazed at how they did not need words to communicate their feelings and concerns. Relief flooded the woman's entire body when the riders agreed to escort them to the city. The three were one step closer to carrying out their mission. Korissa was not a fan of slaughter at all, but she knew that with holding a season would throw everything out of balance. Either Morwen would come out and spread winter, or any who are brave enough to hunt another humanoid creature would be played well for their efforts. The blonde stayed quiet listening to Joseph try to put the moves on the men around them.

As the group approached town the young woman looked around at the people some on their striders some not. But each one had the same facial expression, fear and worry painted the city's people. Her heart ached at their distress knowing they did not bring the answers these people craved and needed. The Drykas yearned to know everything was fine, that she was just running late and yet some how they knew that was not true. Korissa looked to her companions as they pulled to a stop and each got out. Alladon got up on the wagon bench and read the notice they had been sent with. Fear, confusion, and astonishment coursed through the people as they instantly started whispering and throwing around signs for different words she was sure.

[Khida]

The tension in the city had been palpable when Khida went to sleep the night before, and remained so come the dawn. Some of it seemed due to the party of Drykas -- or whatever they were -- that had arrived the day prior, though the nuances of their interaction with the city had thus far breezed past Khida's poor understanding. Much owed its inspiration to the weather, concerns about which seemed to be on the lips of every single Drykas she passed by, if they weren't gossiping about Proudsun -- and often even if they were. Words for weather, she knew. The Kelvic herself didn't indulge in those complaints; weather had its vagaries, and they were beyond her knowledge or explanation... but it didn't take either griping or explanation to suspect something strange about the nascent season.

In light of strangenesses and tensions, Khida had chosen not to do more than a run-through of her traps this morning, finding little enough in them -- a single marmot, plump with Fall's bounty under its skin. A full hunt, she postponed in favor of returning to the city and seeing to errands. First, she delivered her kill to the Spit Fire, then continued inwards along the Emerald branch of the city. A stop at the Duskstep Pavilion secured for Khida a bolas, a tool she had been considering for half a season and finally decided would be worth the investment to learn. She also bought a shortspear, sturdier than the hunter's javelins, better-suited to confrontations up close and personal.

Not that Khida planned on having more of those... but circumstances had arisen before, and she ought to be better-prepared for their future kin. It was part and parcel of the same resolution behind the bolas: to do more, and better, in the service of their family.

The deviation from routine had piqued Sephra's interest, and the horse insisted on seeing Khida's purchases before her rider remounted. What motivated the horse's curiosity, the Kelvic couldn't say; it was a simple enough matter to show her the new tools before securing them to the yvas and setting off to return to the far side of the city, where the Dawnwhispers had made camp.

Someone else's activity out of the norm halted their progress near where the seven branches met; a hubbub of curiosity, a... wagon?... one not bearing marks or colors she knew to associate with the Drykas. Khida cued her Strider to a full stop, studying the unfamiliar vehicle with cautious intrigue. There was a male who strode up to the Wind-Knotted Gates with great purpose, only to be turned back by a crowd of Drykas; he accepted the rejection with grace and retreated to the wagon, there to climb up and give a proclamation in fluent and carrying Common. That he had companions, she didn't immediately notice, given the magnitude of distraction he provided.

For once, a public announcement she need not struggle to comprehend...

...on the basis of tongue, anyway. Its content was a different matter.

Sephra read a cue in the intensity of her rider's attention and ambled forward, unhurriedly closing the distance between them and the growing crowd about the Conclave. Khida did not demur, even though approaching hadn't really been her conscious intent; she wanted to understand, which meant hearing more, and the susurrus of Pavi rising in response was not so readily parsed by her.

The announcement itself boiled down to three things, when the eloquence and elaborations were stripped away.

The Goddess of Winter, refusing to carry out her season.

Death to her followers at the hands of other gods -- or their followers, or those seeking to curry favor; the difference was immaterial from her perspective.

A troubled, difficult year to come.

It was not a pronouncement such as might strike joy in the Kelvic's heart. Far the opposite. One hand sought the shaft of the spear she had only just obtained, finding... not comfort, but resolve in the presence of the weapon and the intention it embodied -- albeit an intention of defense and provision, rather than the slaughter the man had proclaimed.

It appeared Khida would need that tool, as well as everything else she already had, in the year ahead.

ledger3-ball bolas - 20 gm
shortspear - 2 gm
total = -22 gm

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi

[Konrad Venger]

The man walked with his hat pulled low when he ventured beyond his tent. Not that it was his, of course; four other strays and grassland flotsam were crammed into it, but he was hardly one to complain about close lodgings. He'd been raised in a shack outside Sunberth barely fit for a hunting dog, let alone a man, a woman and a boy. Besides, when he thought on what his alternative could have been...

Still a pain in the arse having to be out and about.

The ground crunched and hissed under his feet, as if he was walking through a desert of desiccated plants. Which, he supposed, was the case. He didn't know much about the Sea of Grass, but even he could see that the seasons were going to the hells, and this was not what Winter looked like any-damn-where, except perhaps from the scorching lands of sand to the far south.

The steppe and scrub beyond the sprawl of Endrykas had become an endless, crinkling mess of wizened foliage and parched soil. Nothing grew; weeds scarcely retained their purchase. Pools and rivers grew thin or dried up entirely, leaving naught but muddy trails that soon became cracked dirt after a day in the merciless heat. The man had passed herds of dead animals, though not enough to worry the Drykas overmuch, apparently.

They were nomads, after all. No matter how bad things got, they moved on and they tried again.

"Oof-!"

His thoughts were derailed by an impact against his side, light as a cat but noisy as a puppy. The careless shove would have barely jostled him before the Fall, just stiffened his gait and sent a hand shooting to one of several friends he had strapped to him. But that was the Winter, not the Summer, or even the beginnings of Fall. The man bore his teeth and hissed, shivers of ache rattling through his bones as he righted himself, left hands sliding to the blade at the small of his back out of ancient instinct-

-stalling as he looked into the pair of wide eyes doing the same to him. Only from quite a bit lower.

The boy stammered and sputtered something in Pavi and backpedaled once he got a good look at the stranger's face. No Drykas, that was for sure. Everything about him was just... wrong. His clothes, the way he carried himself, his lack of a mount and his very bearing screamed of something alien. The man caught that scent of fear; an old aroma to his senses, and he fed it by tilting his head up a little more, letting ceaseless Syna illuminate more and more creases and crevices of ravaged flesh.

A scolding mother swooped in like a mother hen, shooing the boy away even as he gaped. A dirty look was shot his way, too, one backed up by the iron that he'd noticed in all Drykas women. He'd seen similar back home, of course, but usually in a... domestic sense. A suffering of loss, the ability to endure any hardship. Not so these Drykas wenches. He'd only been with them a score of days, maybe, but he'd learned a lot about them.

They're as tough as their men. They have to be. Out here, if you'r not tough, smart or useful, you're dinner.

He was alone again and continued his trudge. His leg was hurting again. Stupid petching kid. He might have to stop before he got to the supply tent that he was told was where all the outsiders like him went to find work. No. No, that wouldn't do. He didn't want to be out in the open long, in case-

In case what? No-one knows you here. No-one cares. You're just another parasite with a petched up face and no horse.

"Not the point..."

He ground out the words in that brutish Sunberth accent and continued walking, ignoring his left foot dragging a little. For the thousandth time he cursed the soul of that three-eyed bastard; at least he'd ensured that wherever he was spending eternity, it wouldn't be in the same petching world as him.

Did a good bit of damage before he left, though, he thought as he started to skirt a crowd that was gathering, take a while before you can-

“Greetings Mizaharians!"

Bollocks. That sounded official. The words boomed from the makeshift podium beyond the bobbing heads and Konrad stopped to listen. Lots of droning about the gods, and a bunch of shyke about the weather and the seasons that he could figure out by his damn self. Morwen? The goddess of Winter? Well, yes, it would make sense, but a declaration of war was hardly a smart thing to mount against a goddess.

His ears pricked up despite himself. A thousand gold mizas, just for slotting a Vantha? Sounded tasty. Well over his usual rate. He could ask around, find-

Konrad sighed, took off his hate and mopped his brow. Gods, start of Winter and it was still humid as the middle of Summer. He reminded himself that it wasn't just the heat tiring him out. Not just the angry aches in his leg and his back and his shoulder. This wasn't Sunberth, or Kenash, or even Zeltiva or Syliras. He was a man alone in a city without an underworld. No more contracts for him.

Until I can get away, he promised himself, then started clomping on his way again to finish his errand from Jonas. Soon as this bloody debt is cleared.

Venger didn't care about the gods, because it was clear to him they didn't care about him, or anyone else. If priests and zealots wanted to slaughter each other over the voices in their heads, so be it. He'd stick with coin as his incentive. But for now, he had another reason to stick around, unlikely and out of sorts as it may have sounded for anyone that didn't know Konrad.

He remembered Synas staring at him; playing off the blood oozing out of him. Cackling birds circling, waiting, licking their beaks. That little tattooed bastard gurgling out his life a few feet away, his one glimmer of satisfaction: that he'd drag his murderer down to hell with him.

Then a shadow across Syna. A harsh face with cool, concerned eyes. Helping hands and water and bandages and herbs and he thought he'd been sent to the wrong place. But no. He just didn't die, and there was only one reason why.

For the tenth time, Konrad's hand patted his pocket and made sure the list was still there. Jonas was trusting him with this, and he wouldn't balls it up.

[Taurina]

The season had supposedly changed and yet nothing had changed. Taurina knew well enough that the season had changed because her Ethaefal seeming had changed with it. Crimson hair was now white like the snow that was suppose to soon fall and sun gold horns had become like ink they were so black aside from vibrant deep violet colored edges. Her appearance had changed with the last night of fall as it turned into the first very early morning of winter and had remained like that the night before this one as well as it would throughout all of the winter season. However, nothing felt right.

Despite the obvious tension in the air, there was also too much heat. Instead of getting cooler with the season change it had actually gotten warmer, if that was even possible. The discomfort of fall had not decreased, but had instead increased so much that everyone had noticed it and let it become one of main topics of conversation. That along with a group of people who had made their way into Endrykas the day before. Taurina was lost when it came to understanding what all the fuss was about when it came to them and their leader. She did not know much of the history that came with them. Only murmurings and rumors.

Taurina actually wished for winter. She wished for the cold it brought and the white frozen water that was suppose to cover the land. Despite the fact winter had been promised to be hard and there was still fear when it came to thinking about it long term, she desired to get to experience it. Only, heat did not equal winter. While it was still early and things could change, it was not suppose to be getting warmer. Things just did not add up.

The Ethaefal normally spent her mornings asleep in her tent or working. Why this morning was different, the Eth did not really know. It was hot and miserable and yet she was out with journal in hand instead of tucked away sleeping through it. Sketching had become a distracting pastime that kept her mind off the later memories she had of fall. While there had been good times, the more recent memory of the Zith attack was still etched within her brain. She had no reason to complain for she had not been kidnapped and yet, there was still trauma that she felt the need to get away from. Her sketch book lately had begun to look rather grim despite it supposedly serving as a distraction. Membranous wings covered multiple pages and while she strived to get away from the images, they kept coming back and haunted her. She drew them in an effort to work them out of her system, but it did not work. All that happened was her ability to draw them got better each time.

This hot, winter morning Taurina had decided to get out of what was familiar to her and maybe succeed in getting out of her head. She felt trapped within it. Locked in there with her fears, her loneliness, and feelings of not truly belonging. It was time to get out somehow, break free. She did not really know how to do that, but she was going to try. If happiness was ever to be found she would have to move past this. So she walked and walked. Searching for a place within Endrykas that held some slice of peace while still being surrounded by people so she would not truly be alone and therefore not have to go unprotected. It was only after awhile of this that she stumbled across the crowd that had formed and found her curiosity peaked. She stopped to listen, finding the fact that the person speaking spoke fluent common refreshing. For once she could understand every word.

Despite the fact that Taurina understood every word, she was not sure she liked every word. This man, whoever he was, a priest of some sort, was talking about murdering a race because of something their goddess was not doing. Taurina found discomfort in the words. While this explained the heat of the winter, how could the extermination of a people really be the answer? How would it bring winter back the way it was suppose to be? Would it truly draw Morwen out of wherever she was and force her to resume her duties? It did not seem like they really wanted that. They spoke of replacing her with another who would not do as she had done. Why not just do that and skip the murder of a race? Lessons may have to be learned, but innocents should not have to be the ones to pay the ultimate price. It was not their fault the goddess had chosen this path. Was it?

Taurina shifted uneasily, looking to the Drykas who had gathered to see their opinion on this matter. She supposed her beliefs should match with theirs, but she could not stop thinking about how this did not feel like the right answer. What if Leth decided one night or many to shirk his duties? Would she be hunted down and killed as well? More uneasiness and discomfort came from the Eth. She was conflicted and did not fully understand. This felt too wrong. Too dark and twisted. The elders had been right the season before, it would be a hard winter indeed and not just because of the heat.

Common | Pavi | Thoughts

[Prophet]

The priests exchanged glances with one another. They had discussed, at great length, what it would mean to the Drykas to hear this message. A mysterious race, the rumors circulated about the horseclans varied as much as the weather in the Sea of Grass yet the presence of striders indicated some truth to the divine favoritism shown to the nomads. Joseph was a bit distracted and lacked the attention span for too much deep thought. Twice in as many ticks, he rubbed his eyes. Women were everywhere! The ratio far outnumbered the men and most were healthy and fit. The priest of Sivah was already making his way through the ground with hungry eyes trying to meet as many attractive faces as possible.

Alladon shook his head at the older man. The young priest of Tavasi remained near his posted statement and took the time to study members of the crowd. He was facing west and noticed an Eth among the people. Always one to be fascinated by the celestial race, he found his mind wandering to all of the things he had learned of Ethaefals. Halfway through a dissertation he had witnessed outside of Zeltiva’s University, a rough shove nearly took the priest from his stance. Alladon was a nimble man and used a few steps to gather his balance before turning to face his accoster. The green-eyes young man drew in a sharp gasp as two shadows blocked out Syna’s light.

“Pardon me, lad.” One said in a strange accent. He was taller than his compatriot and of normal-ish proportions. The second fellow was so big that Alladon stared. He had never seen a being so large that wasn’t painted with blue skin. This man simply stared at the priest with the curiosity of a small child.

“I…uhhm… you’re excused.” Alladon said as he fidgeted to straighten his robe. “Are you gentlemen in a rush?” His gaze narrowed to the taller one who instantly placed a wide grin then winked in response.

“No rush, boy. We came to read your fancy announcement about your fake gods.” The tanned human spoke Common perfectly but his accent was as if it was mixed with several different regions. The nonchalant way in which he said the statement was a slap to Alladon who physically recoiled from statement.

“Patronize me all you wish, giant but there is nothing fake about our gods. I’ve met Tavasi multiple times and I assure you that he is as real as you and me.” The green eyes flashed fire and Alladon’s cheeks turned bright red. Despite the two behemoths lumbering closer to the average-sized human, the priest’s hands still found themselves delving into the folds of the robe for his weapon. Blasphemy was a fight-worthy offense to the staunch follower of the Spring God.

“Axel. Roddy. That’s enough.” A weathered voice, hoarse like the wind and stern as the heat, broke into the scene and stilled everyone in the immediate radius. An aged man with silver and gold wavy locks walked from behind the two huge men and smiled at the priests. Jonas Pridesun, ankal of a scorned pavilion and whose son was executed by the Conclave came to stand before Alladon. There were more than a few gasps. Rumor was that he had returned but to see him in the flesh caught many offguard. “My apologies, young man. These boys get a little touchy when people talk about the old gods.”

Alladon was dumbfounded by the entire series of events but Jonas had managed to capture the attention of Joseph who made his way back near his friend. The older man put a hand on Alladon’s shoulder for comfort then moved to speak but Jonas turned and began to address the assembled crowd in Pavi.

“Drykas!” He called in a loud voice. His eyes were kind and his demeanor was relaxed. “I know some of you are troubled by return.” He signed past mistakes and cold heart. “I am not the man I used to be.” He waved his arm at a growing number of people who were filling the center of Endrykas; most of whom were not Drykas. “I have learned a sacred truth and it has changed my life.” His fingers signed freedom, second chance and love. The smile he wore never left and those listening soon found themselves feeling drawn in by his mood.

Joseph saw an opening to challenge the speaker though he didn’t speak fantastic Pavi, he understood most of what was spoken but almost no signs. He grinned his charming smile and stepped forward in Jonas’ direct line of sight. “So what is this truth that changed your life?” An attractive redhead bit her lip as she stared at Joseph who couldn’t help but twist in her direction. This slight distraction allowed Jonas his first foothold which he used to climb for a speech of epic proportions.

“I’m glad you asked, priest.” Jonas levels his penetrating gaze at the Drykas who had come to see what was causing all of the commotion. Axel and Roddy took up places just behind Jonas to prevent anyone from interrupting. “I was visited by a divine being that revealed the mysteries of the world to me. He has no name other than God.” Jonas signed power and mercy. “He told me how the ‘gods’ of Mizahar are pretenders, spirits who feed upon our weaknesses!” A man moved to quiet Jonas but was flattened by Roddy’s massive fist. “I have many tales to tell and many lessons to teach, my friends.” He signed family and honor. “My pavilion is full of people who want to share the truth of the One God. Do not be shy.” His hands bent into the signs for ask questions and seek answers.

Alladon erupted. “I’ve never heard such blasphemy!” He drew his rope dart and adjusted the coils in his hands so the metal hook hung in a loose sway by his knees. Joseph moved forward and stood in front of the younger priest with a knowing look on his face. If the shadows of Roddy and Axel weren’t enough deterrent, the points of several dozen arrows and spears were trained upon the clergy. Alladon and Joseph shared a deep breath and then the rope dart disappeared.

Jonas was smug in his small victory. Calm and quiet, some who had known the man before were amazed that he hadn’t tried to tear the young human limb from limb for butting in on his speech. The whispers started and the ankal knew that a seed had been planted. Jonas Pridesun began to walk around and mingle with those that he recognized and welcomed any who had questions about his God –even the insincere.

[Meadow]

Korrisa watched as the entire city seemed to come alive after the announcement. Soft eyes watched the people as they turned to each other talking quickly throwing the signs once more. She was nervous among so many that the three were unfamiliar with, or that she was unfamiliar with. The woman had not traveled far from the city where Bala had marked her. Being away from the town caused the young woman high levels of anxiety, but the call had been made. The lady had stepped up without a second thought knowing her brothers and sisters under Morwen were to be hunted. Glancing at the other two priests the blonde used everything in her to keep from shaking her head at the older priest. Joseph's brain had to be on overload big time seeing at the women around him. To say he was a ladies man was the understatement of the year. A deep strange voice caught the young woman's ears causing her to try and find the source of the sound. After only a few ticks of looking, her eyes landed on the two men with Alladon.

“This doesn't look good,” she spoke and hurried over to see what was going on.

Standing back some the woman did not want to get too close before knowing what was happening. When they went to bow up and intimidate Alladon, was when things went too far. Before she could get in the possible scrap an older male voice called out. The two giants backed off before looking towards him. Korrisa also turned her head seeing the man; he was an older drykas who seemed to draw the attention of well everyone. The entire city looked to know the man who reprimanded the two giants. Loud whispering and murmuring could be heard coursing through the crowd seeing Jonas Pridesun walk up of all Drykas. The man had disappeared from the city early on in the previous season after his son was put to death by the Conclave, the very men he had spent all day with for years. Everyone went silent when the man called for their attention.

Korrisa growled when the man speaks of another God. That the Gods and Goddesses were not real but monsters in disguise. Few times had the blonde felt a true anger and hatred at the level of intensity; that she did at the moment. Making long quick strides towards the man, she was met with the hulking man that stood nearly as tall as the Akalaks. Yet he was much more burly, three hundred pounds by her guess. Of course the woman could very well be mistaken. Since she is smaller than most of the men where she traveled from. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion when Alladon drew his rope dart. The crowd went from being the quiet onlookers to having the three at arrow point. Quickly backing up the woman urged him to put the weapon away.

“Calm Alladon. We will get our chance to show him who he is dealing with later,” Korrisa stated putting a hand over his.

The hot wind whipped through the crowd picking up hair throwing it this way and that. The whole Sea of Grass seemed angry at the three priests for daring to lash out at its people. The young blonde woman watched as a man stepped up to defend the “old” Gods as Jonas referred to them. At least he had tried, but the tall man that did not bare the windmarks of the drykas punched him one time knocking him out instantly. She stifled a gasp seeing that no one stepped up again while the old drykas continued his speech about this other “God” he met. Everything in her wanted to stand up to the man, but her better judgment said to shut up and stay quiet.

“Why should we believe this God is any different from the Gods and Goddesses we already believe in?” A female voice cried out from the crowd when he finished his little spout.

The crowd went silent once more waiting on the edge of their toes to see what his response was. Though there was some that nodded in agreement with the things he said; more of the crowd had furrowed brows and unhappy frowns. Something had happened to him that not everyone believed true. Perhaps if the three could get the other half of the crowd on their side with the help of one of the non-trusting Drykas, then perhaps they could make some headway.

[Taurina]

Taurina was still taking in the idea of a whole race being hunted because of their belief in a goddess when one of the priests was suddenly shoved. Eyes that had been distant and wandering one moment suddenly became focused as the Eth looked curiously at what was going on. There were two towering men with the younger of the two male priests who had brought the strange news of Morwen’s absence. Two towering men that would make even Taurina’s Eth form seem small in comparison despite her height. In her Drykas form she would be completely powerless against them which made her weary. Despite the fact it was unlikely she would have to fight them, the Eth hung back towards the outer rim of the gathered Drykas, just close enough in so that she could see and hear. She wanted no part of the mayhem that might be brought on by these towering men shoving the priest around. She wanted to be able to get out of the area if something happened.

Taurina continued to curiously, wearingly, watch where the main event was. The man all looked like they were about to get into it and the older priest had even turned his own wandering attention over to the situation. Something happened before things could get to heated though, a new player stepped into the game. Before the older man who looked Drykas broke up the brewing war, there had been talking among them. Taurina had not heard exact words, only what rippled through the crowd around her. The words “fake gods” did not settle with her well, but she did not pay much heed to them. Things could have gotten twisted before reaching her ears.

The man spoke of some mysterious sacred truth, of his life being changed. The Eth did not understand all her said and knew very little of the signs he made, but she got the general gist of his meaning. His name was whispered throughout the population, but it meant nothing to Taurina. All she knew of it was that it was connected with the rumors that had been stirring the day before. Not all the Drykas liked this man, -he had even said that he knew not all trusted him- but the reason behind that Taurina did not know. She would have to find out later. Right now the words he was speaking were more important.

“I was visited by a divine being that revealed the mysteries of the world to me. He has no name other than God…He told me how the ‘gods’ of Mizahar are pretenders, spirits who feed upon our weaknesses!”

Taurina heard the important words clear as day, even recognized the signed words power and mercy.

"Divine being… God… Gods of Mizahar… pretends.. spirits.. feed upon.. weaknesses…"

Still as a block of ice, she simply blinked. When the Drykas began their whispers, Taurina blinked again. Then again.

‘No. That wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right.’

Taurina blinked once more.

The Ethaefal was stunned, surprised, and completely overwhelming with distrust and hatred of this man she knew nothing about. He spoke ill of not only her god, but of all gods. He called them spirits, beings that messed with the mind and the soul. Taurina was lost to her mind with the new thoughts that were in them. A slight tremor ran through the woman’s Drykas body, fury filling her and making her wish she was more proficient with her dagger. She did not wish to kill, but to maim and even started forward as if to execute her hasty plan. For him to say this, to announce it to everyone… it was… it was… Taurina did not know the right word. She knew how much she hated his words and how much she wanted to go up there and fight all those who dared agree with the man herself despite the fact that the priests had only just been attacked because of trying to do the very same. The sane idea of trying to leave if things got bad had left her by this point.

‘How dare he?!’

Taurina’s lips pressed into a tight, angry line. She had stopped not long after starting forward, the fraction of a sane mind she had left showing her how she could physically do nothing to stop these people. Still, she wanted to. Oh how she longed to prove them wrong.

Taurina had seen a god, she had once dwelled with him in a realm not many currently on Mizahar had ever experienced let alone seen. She and the rest of the world saw a representation of him every night. Her Ethaefal form during the night was proof that there was at least one god. Wasn’t it? She was sustained in that form by only moonlight, only Leth’s light. No other god, or “God” rather, provided her that. There was no falsehood or trickery in it. It was real! Being with Leth once and being sustained by Leth even now was real. It had all been real and if Leth was real than so were the others. That did not mean that they were all necessarily good at heart, but the world needed a balance. Nothing could be all good with no bad, both were needed for life to function. This just one “God” thing though… No. Just no.

Common | Pavi | 'Thoughts'

[Konrad Venger]

Konrad was a man that looked like what he was. This was deliberate. He came from a place and pursued a profession where fear and a bloodied reputation was not just important, but often essential. The black hat, the black coat, the scars and obvious metal he carried, a stare that could freeze piss and a voice that grated like slabs of granite... they all portrayed something dangerous, always on the verge of remorseless violence.

He'd lost count of the lives he'd taken long ago, but it was enough that now the act of murder was as natural and morally troubling to him as swatting a bloodfly. Loyalty was a danger, virtue was, well, not, and trust was as deadly as a dagger. Konrad was a killer, he knew it, and he didn't care who else did.

"Shyke, not this bollocks again..."

Which made his choice of actions in the aftermath of Jonas' little speech even more surprising. He'd stopped walking when he heard the familiar voice behind him; stopped and turned and frowned and his mind was already prodding him with the future before it even happened.

Don't do it, don't start, don't... ah, shyke.

Fart at a funeral. That's what it went down like. Konrad was something of an expert at reading crowds - or mobs - and he saw the Drykas bristle en masse like some great, outraged animal at Jonas' words. The bearded ankal didn't seem to notice, peaceful smile on his face, arms spread with calm certainty of his safety... and he started into the crowd like a man wading through cranadile-infested waters.

Konrad's stomach knotted as he saw the priest who'd been speaking go for a weapon, his own hand flashing to his kopis out of instinct... but it was hardly necessary. Axel and Roddy, movable fortifications that they were, moved in smoothly to protect their master, even if the priest's friend didn't get in the way. Even then, others of the Pridesun pavilion were there, and armed, and were uncaring of using the array of steel and iron they held.

They don't need you, a voice reassured him, remembering the scrap of paper that suddenly grew heavy and insistent in his coat. Stop being a fool. What could you help with, anyway?

It spoke reason, that he couldn't deny. Jonas already had a whole squadron of his people around him, quick-eyed and devoted, ready to spill blood if they had to. Jonas wouldn't have liked that, but Konrad was sure he'd like dying even less. He watched the man from under his hat as he moved through the crowd, and every person he spoke to, Konrad felt his unease grow.

All it takes is one, his spoke back to the voice. One lunatic, one fanatic, one unhinged bloody idiot who doesn't care what happens after they make their move. Shyke.

Konrad moved smoothly into the crowd, roughly in front of Jonas' path. When the man moved forwards, he slid to the side, keeping distance between them both. He took off his hat, a blazing beacon of conspicuousness in the crowd, and rested it low against his stomach... conveniently hiding his right hand holding the grip of his kopis.

He watched. Not just eyes and faces, but hands. Peered between bodies like a hunter would between rows of grass or trunks of trees, trying to spot anything that could be an assassin. He'd played bodyguard many times before, just not for free, and now...

Konrad was what he looked like, and he slept very well at night. He was equally aware that without Jonas and his simple, inexplicable kindness, he would be dead. Bled out and torn apart by everything from glassbeaks to coyotes to beetles to crows. He'd passed out with Three Eyes' blood spattered over him, half-expecting to wake to Dira's smiling face... and instead, it was in the back of a rocking wagon, being tended by Jonas Pridesun.

He should have died. Because of Jonas, he was alive. Whatever else he was, Konrad did not forget those who gave him back all he truly had in the world: his life.

A little less obvious with his hat off, Konrad kept skirting his patron and savior in the crowd, eyes lickering over everyone he talked to. His hands flexed over the grip of his kopis, and he found himself saying a quick, silent, indirect prayer as he watched Pridesun answer questions both curious and indignant.

Whoever the hell is listening, have this moron shut his mouth soon and get back to his pavilion, sharpish.

[Khida]

Action refocused Khida's attention on the matter unfolding before her. Another stranger stepped forward to address the speaker, the man who was perhaps a priest. Two of them, in fact, one absurdly large, both exuding a belligerent air that made Khida's spine straighten and her eyes sharpen. She did not expect they meant anything good by their crowding of the priest. A third bid them stand down; older, possessed of an entirely different gravitas, he turned to address the crowd.

By the growing swell of murmured conversations around her, this was the Pridesun who had set the city abuzz first. His first statements did not quite coalesce into meaning in Khida's ears, but they had the sense of a leading statement, bait inviting longer discourse. He got it from the speaker-priest, and exhorted the crowd in response; something of telling, feeding, family, questions, gods. His tone and posture carried a sense of unwantedness, of insult, but also of righteous certainty.

Most clearly, the man was setting himself in opposition to the priest. But not in outrage at the announcement; this did not seem a spur-of-the-moment protest on the part of the older Drykas.

The priest went for his weapon; so did the Drykas around him. An older man who evidently accompanied the priest restrained him, and wisely so. Still, the falcon Kelvic sat on edge, gaze flicking through the crowd about her, evaluating their mood. Wind danced through the crowd, as sharp and heated as the roiling emotions of the throng. Her tension communicated itself to Sephra, the Strider's ears taking on an uneasy angle, fidgeting unhappily in place.

Khida wanted nothing so much as to leave, to remove herself from this charged situation, something that her instincts insisted might turn truly dangerous at any moment. Certainly, she could fly away at any moment. But with the crowd gathered, late-comers packing in behind, she did not see a route by which to readily extract Sephra...

...so then what should she do? Simply wait, here, in the midst of potential danger, and hope it went away?

No, not that either.

Which still left her without direction, without a solution for her quandary. How should she act, as opposed to not act?

The problem here, stripped to its basic essence, was the older Drykas, the man who exuded reasonableness along with his challenge. The priest's announcement had brought disquiet, but it was his words that set about sharpening the edges in the air. He had caused this situation, this potential hazard, and not by accident; Khida did not appreciate that.

Heeding another unconscious cue, perhaps only some reflection of her rider's focus on the speakers, Sephra stepped forwards. It came as less of a surprise to Khida, this time, more or less according with her intent. They could not draw all that close to the nexus of the crowd's attention, any more than they could leave, for there were more knots of people packed together in the way; soon enough, the stolidity of the crowd dictated the Strider halt.

Drawing attention to herself in this situation went against every one of the falcon's self-preserving instincts. But fleeing was not an option; the only way out seemed to be through.

Fine. Through it would be.

So far as she was concerned, all this was a stupid discussion, anyway.

"Gods are gods," Khida called out, sitting stiff and tall atop her Strider, skin prickling with the suppressed want to fly. She broke with preference in the interests of clarity, her Pavi too limited by far for the subject at hand; Common it had to be. "You stand on the earth, beneath the sky. What is 'belief' to stone, cloud, air? To the grass that feeds the herds, the herds that feed you? They exist. Turning your back on what exists is only blindness."

Which summed up Khida's religion in a nutshell: not so much faith as cautious respect.

Khida space Common | Pavi
other space Common | Pavi