Ruin's Dawn: Light Gluttony

[Basilisk]

Date: 35 of Saun, 721
Location: Alleyway in Gleam, near the Temple of the Wounded God

It was bright out still, the sun still shining high in the sky above, but the alleyway they found themselves had an air of darkness about it regardless, for all that the buildings around it were quite nice. The five people who found themselves rather abruptly called to the alley were joined by a blonde woman who was wearing a dark cloak to hide the brightly colored clothes she wore underneat it. "I apologize to all of you for the abruptness of my call. If I had the time, I would have been more cordial. I am Qylios, the Sigil of Light." she said, bowing slightly to the five she had called.

"Four of you have been called here because of her exemplary performance in the past." she said, before nodding her head to Jasper in particular. "Jasper of Melrath, I am aware your people choose to follow the Spirits, rather than Immortals like me, but I brought you here because your knowledge of the Spirits may well be necessary if we are to succeed." she said, before taking a deep breath.

"I should explain why I called you. We recieved a report that Faldrun, Kata, and Mastes have sent members of the Aukari Occult out into the world to gather power, using relics left over from an ancient war." she said, thinking quickly to figure out how best to explain this to her chosen representatives without having to stop and explain things that were ancient history even by Immortal standards. "These artifacts, if properly used, would be able to empower these Immortals far beyond what they are now. Faldrun, most concerningly, could use them to bring the entire Western Continent under his control and possibly more." she said, her tone grave

"Now, I cannot directly interfere with this any more than Faldrun and his allies can gather this power themselves. The ancient oath that we swore forbids such direct action. So we must rely on Mortals and Mortalborn. So I have brought you here, to Quacia." she said, before gesturing to the end of the alley, where she pointed to a large building.

"That is the Temple of the Wounded God, the center of Quacia's religion. The Aukari Occult has already infiltrated the Temple and possibly the religion itself, so they have the lead on us. They are gathering power from a place beneath the temple. This was as close as I can bring you without risking your detection by my presence alone, nor can I linger lest I alert Faldrun and his allies by nature of what I am." she said, turning back to the group, her face showing her displeasure at how she was bound not to interfere.

"I can only wish you all luck, and observe your progress as best I can. Be careful, all of you, and keep your courage and your wits about you, for I expect that you will need both 'ere this day is done." she said, stepping away from the group as her form faded into the light.

!

Message from: Basilisk

Well, hello you lot and welcome to Quacia. For this round, you can describe what your PC's were doing before Qylios called you all to Quacia to help save Idalos, as well as what you do once your here. From the next round and on, your group will moderated by our favorite porky friend, Pig Boy. So, I'll leave you in his capable hooves and hope you all have fun and enjoy the plot. Next post is in a week, on Tuesday the 15th.

[/code]
[/style3][/style]

[Faith Augustin]

35th Saun, 721

"I found it!"

That had been Faith's exclamation a few hours ago as she'd come into the room where he was working, brandishing a book. "I knew I could rely on Scalvoris library, look!" Putting the book down, she beamed in delight. Silver eyes regarded her husband as Faith looked at him. Reaching up she touched his cheek and smiled. "Twenty six arcs old. And five trials, of course," they'd celebrated his birth just five trials before. "I can't see any wrinkles you know. Maybe I should branch out into pre-emptive face cream? Beauty treatments, that sort of thing?" Tapping the book, she explained. "It suggests that U'frek's shrine on Immortal's Tongue has information, in pictures maybe, I suppose, on a strange phenomena at the edge of the world." The book in question had been one Faith had been searching for since last arc. "I had the wrong name for the author and the wrong title for the book, which explains why I couldn't find it, see?" Still, it meant that they had another lead. Another thing to follow up. "I'm going to go to Immortal's Tongue this afternoon," she said, with a smile. "I was hoping you might come along?" She was pleased, there was no doubting it and, going to Immortals Tongue would be a nice thing for them to do, it would get them out of the house and, if he was with her he'd be happier.

Win-win, Faith considered.

And so it was that they packed up their Domain Bags with their kits and equipment and Faith and Padraig made their way to Immortals' Tongue. Just as she put her foot on to the solid ground of the small island of Shrines, her hand in his as he helped her off the boat, the pair of them disappeared, and then, appeared. Somewhere quite else.

Somewhere quite else indeed.

Faith's first and immediate thought was of Padraig but, there he was with her and still holding her hand like he had been a mere eye-blink ago. The reason for that was, apparently, Qylios. Faith knew Qylios - she'd been given a task by her, after all, and Padraig was marked by the Immortal of Light. So, Faith lowered her head in a bow and then listened. They'd received a report? Faith's work had led her to understand the use of intelligence - and more importantly, counter intelligence very well indeed and this sounded just a little too ... neat. "May I ask, what the source of that report was?" Faith's questions would be in the tens or twenties, given the time. However, they didn't have time so she limited herself to the vital ones. "And why now? Why this time, and why this place?" She frowned as Qylios explained where they were - and what they had to do. The Aukari Occult was a group she had heard of but she did not know much of.

It was a very odd way for Qylios to behave, Faith thought. The secrecy, especially, seemed unlike her. But, things were what they were. And they were here. "Well," she said, to those gathered. "I'm Faith, this is my husband Padraig. Hello. " She smiled to them. Faith was a slight woman, short and almost waif-like in her build. She wore a sword at her side and there was a bag slung across her chest. Silver eyes regarded them and she made no secret of the marks she bore. Black fingernails of Vri, black tattoos on her wrists and neck denoting Famula and, peeking out over the neckline of her blouse, a beautiful willow-tree marking her as Moseke's. Her hair had an almost-halo about it, showing her Ymiden mark and only the mark of Gwelliph on her forehead was hidden, by virtue of her hair covering it with a fringe.

"Shall we?" She gestured to the "Temple of the Wounded God". "Go see what we can see?"

[Varlum]

35th Saun, 721

Quiet.

It was all Varlum had heard much of in a while, aside from the trips he took through Rharne to travel and get some air. It was peace, a peace he had not known in his life. Being born at his size, being competent with weapons and enjoying the adrenaline of a fight meant he had been a born warrior. Every part of it was a rush, slamming an axe down on someone that wished to drive their sword through your neck. Perhaps it was because he was the son of Faldrun, his domain being of violence. Perhaps it was because he was an Ithecal, the blood of the fierce dragons running through his veins. Perhaps Varlum was just born different to most others. Whatever it was that made him that way, it was who he had been since he ran away from home, bounty hunters trying to kill him on the way.

Until recently. All the fighting in the Stormwastes, all the violence with Ellasin and the lives lost over wars that could have been avoided. All the soldiers that died, never getting to see their family again, because some evil power believed they had the right to rule. Varlum's soul had been crushed by it for a while. Even the ball had been too much for him, going bad and ending in violence. So he had taken a break, agreed to suspend his time with the knights and return when he felt he was ready. After all, with the abilities he had it was dangerous for him to be unstable. If he made a wrong decision it could end badly.

So as he, having been sat in his home with his hands wrapped around the handle of his axe, looked up to see he was sat in a dark alleyway with a group around him he let out a deep growl. Slowly, the giant Ithecal stood himself up and rested his axe against the wall, looking down at the group through the stone that coated his body. Qylios spoke to them, addressing them all. Varlum stayed quiet, his low growl maintaining under his breath as she explained the situation to him. It seemed his father would be involved in this fight, potentially more directly if things went well. Varlum had been hoping to meet him again after his sly smirk at the death of Auya. Few words to exchange, but many actions. If he could have his way, nobody else would suffer at the hands of Faldrun.

Once Qylios finished, however, Faith spoke up. An old friend, one he had not seen in a while. Padraig was there too. It was bitter-sweet in that moment for the Ithecal. He was glad to see his friends again, yet he wasn't sure how ready he was to fight again. To come back to the world of Idalos after all he had seen. These past Seasons he had been locked away from everything, keeping to himself. Now he was somewhere new, that he had not been to, with old friends and new strangers alike.

Slowly, the Ithecal took a step forward to address the group, eyes glancing to them all. It was clear in his appearance, to Faith and Padraig, that he had changed. If they thought he'd seen things in the Ellasin war, the Stormwastes changed him that much more. "My name is Varlum Onarmus, and until I was dragged here I was retired until I said otherwise" he spoke in a gruff tone, before glancing to Faith and Padraig and letting the smallest smile spread across his face. "But I made a promise a while ago, to some good friends. So I guess retirement ended early" he said with a dry chuckle, turning to Jasper, a man he had not met before. At least not that he recalled. Lots of soldiers in lots of battles, sometimes it was hard to keep track.

"It's good to meet you, Jasper of Melrath" he nodded, offering a giant hand to shake should the man wish to take it. Once formalities were out of the way he placed a hand on the small scratch left by Syroa, right on the upper left part of his chest. Then he turned back to Faith and Padraig, eyes glancing to them with a more serious look. "I was hoping the next time we met would be something more peaceful. I know nothing of magic artifacts, or not as much as I imagine you would. Later, we'll catch up. But for now, does anyone know of an artifact in history or myth that could empower Faldrun like this? Anything that was written, with any information?"

Then he glanced around at Quacia. It was no Rharne, that much was clear. With a name like the Temple of the Wounded God he wondered if he'd been taken to a cult city of some sort. But as of right now, it didn't matter. Once everyone had said their introductions and Faith asked if they should enter, Varlum nodded and walked alongside her, bringing the axe that had been brought with him.

[Padraig]

"Yeah, that's me. Long in the tooth," Padraig had responded dryly, and with a crooked grin when Faith had come in with her book, and reminded him of just how quickly another arc passes. "I'll need a cane soon to replace my telescopes." At any rate, he'd turned away from his work; he'd been fine tuning one of the most sensitive of the star gazing pieces of equipment when Faith come in with her book. Holding it aloft as if it was a prized treasure she'd found.

He'd let the comment about face creams slide. Besides, if there were lines on his face he'd probably gotten more than a few of them just over the last arc. And a few more before then, when they'd stepped through the barrier at the edge of the world, and straight into another one. Nonetheless, "To Immortal's Tongue?" he said, but of course he'd go. These trials it was rare for him to let her far out of his sight. And because this was Scalvoris, where the unexpected was better anticipated than not, he'd packed up his domain bag, strapped on his weapons and gone fully equipped.

But no sooner had they arrived, his own feet had been all of two trills on solid ground, did they end up somewhere else entirely, him still reaching out to help her down from the deck, her hand extended, grasping his as she disembarked. It took another trill to gather his wits, and reflexively, Padraig squeezed Faith's hand in order to reassure himself that they hadn't been separated. And then he took stock of their surroundings.

Qylios, who he'd been marked by, Varlum and two others, in a place he couldn't recall ever seeing before. Although until Qylios spoke, he figured it could be anywhere. Padraig wasn't the type to hang out in dark and foreboding alleyways, but he was more than familiar with the concept. When the Immortal bowed to them collectively, Padraig dipped his head and bent slightly from the waist in return. He'd never been one to make grand gestures so far as the Immortals were concerned. Faith was the more prayerful one. But those that had blessed him, and the one that was his mother had never seemed offended or to have minded at all.

When Qylios explained why she'd brought them here of all places, the mortal born scholar frowned curiously. The circumstances weren't optimal, to be sure. Though over the arcs, he'd handled a fair share of artifacts of different types. Quacia, the Temple of the Wounded God. Cult-like, and not a cheery crowd from what Padraig understood of the matter. But then detailed knowledge of various religions wasn't really in his usual wheelhouse.

He nodded to Varlum, offering a smile before saying, "It's good to see you again, old friend." As for what information they'd been given thus far, Padraig figured there was nothing he could add to the list than what they'd already asked of the Immortal. As for the rest? To Faith's question, he said, "Might as well. We're here now, it would be a shame not to take a look around."

[Jasper]

Jasper

Rel

Ardiechy

Ruin's Dawn: Light Gluttony
35 of Saun, 721

Jasper had come early in the morning to meditate among the trees of the great park at Mykvior shrine. The young Aesir couldn’t have really said why it was that he had felt the need to visit this particular place but he had felt called to this shrine. Upon arrival Jasper has shed his outer robes and began to dance among the trees in the grove. Many people thought Meditation was sitting on the ground, just sitting there. Jasper occasionally had done that, but he found that his meditation worked better when he was trying to blend in with nature and merge with it.

So it was that he moved amount the trees. Possible looking a bit silly, but he felt himself move with the nature around himself. He could feel the various spirit around him as he moved. He didn’t actually try to talk with any of them he just moved with them and becoming one in this shrine of the Induk. The brown eyed young man opened at one point noticed a fox sitting in the tree watching him, and a soft smile began to turn form on his face at that promising sign.

Jasper eventually stopped, feeling calm and connected with the spirits. He donned his robes and smiling at the fox watching him from a tree turned to walk out of the grove. He was about halfway through the woods when he felt the sudden shift and found himself standing in a dark ally with others. Jasper felt panic rise but he didn’t panic. He did reach down and felt the aspergillum at his side and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was then that a woman who had presences drew their attention. Jasper could tell there was something powerful about her, but she didn’t register as a spirit of any sort. The young man didn’t have to wait long before he had an explanation. This was the immortal Qylios. The honest truth of the mater was that Jasper wasn’t particularly well informed of the subject of Immortals. He was vaguely aware this one was considered good as far as Immortals went but he could have said why she was good. She spoke to him directly acknowledging him as one who worshiped the spirits. He felt an eyebrow rise as she spoke about the possibility on needing to communicate with the spirits. He nodded his head in understanding.

Jasper felt a bit annoyed at suddenly being dragged across the world, but he knew enough to know that Faldrun was a very bad guy. As an Aesir he was actually used to having to drop things when summoned. So suddenly being needed to help with something did give him a second thought, though he was aware that their were others more intended with the spirits then him, but he was willing to believe that if an Immortal pulled him then this was very serious.

The young man could tell that many of the others knew each other and that he was the new one in the group. He nodded to each, and when the Ithecal introduced himself Jasper took the offered hand and said. “It is nice to meet you Varlum.” Jasper turned and greeted each of them with a shake if they would take it. “It is nice to meet you Faith and Padraig.” He also offered a greeting for that last member of the party.

There appeared to still be other questions, mainly from the woman Faith, while she worked on that Jasper felt he might as well do what he was here for. Drawing upon his Aesir ability and his own natural talents he felt to see what spirits where near then and more importantly if there were any powerful ones hanging around in the broader vicinity. Oh course recognizing the one that lived from the aspergillum at his side, and moving on to others.

[Pig Boy]

Mood Music

The City of Quacia was quite unlike many. The first thing one would notice, besides the very advanced and exquisite stonework of the surroundings, was the acrid smell of burning vegetation. Plumes of smoke covered the sky, whether night or day, although judging by the dimness and gloom of their appearance here, it was most assuredly night. These plumes of smoke choked the air, spreading ashen particles through the wind and dust-swept streets. The place, for all its advanced construction and architecture, appeared to be decaying. There were abandoned businesses and housing complexes. Monuments and statues half in disrepair, the rest tipped over or placed in a location where they clearly weren't originating from. The city looked quite ill, for lack of a better term.

The Urban rot was palpable as people milled by the nearest thoroughfare, which led to a great gate that appeared sealed behind stonework. People wore a mix of rich fabrics and plain linens, but all appeared rich, yet torn, as if they'd been scavenged or stretched beyond their ordinary use. They spoke in a strange language, that only Padraig perhaps would be able to recognize, being advanced in his mark of Yvithia. Yet the translator stone didn't work when the people weren't speaking directly to him, and nobody had noticed the group skulking about in the alleyway.

There were many strange words upon their lips. They all chattered excitedly, with strain evident on their faces as they milled toward the great Chapel of the Wounded God that Qylios had pointed out. One phrase stood out among many, "O Juiz falará! Venha conosco...The Judge will speak. Come with us."

For all the people speaking, it appeared none of them were familiar with the Common Language.

Toward the Wounded God's Temple, the chapel was half-caved in, as if by some catastrophic battle. Repairs had apparently begun, and there was evidence of work on the Chapel, as opposed to the rest of the Urban rot. Here, there were charred out husks of wooden things, and burned bodies all around.

Some among the congregation gathering toward the Temple were red-haired, others were a mix of races. Mainly biqaj and human, but with some shabby-looking, emaciated ithecal among them. The ithecal in particular had an angry look about them, as they marched individually toward the temple.

A loud voice could be heard, piercing through the night. Speaking the same strange language they'd heard the commoners speaking. There was a loud chanting, led by the voice, and carried out by a choral collection of voices of the faithful.

Then silence. Then, a slight rumbling of the air and a searing scream of pain as flames flashed from the entrance to the building. Interestingly enough, there were no fearful parishioners exiting the building in terror or panic. Just that singular scream, and then an exhalation of praise by the same choral body that had greeted the greater voice.

Jasper's spirit, within his aspergillum, was silent for the most part. Yet he could feel its presence. Eldloga was afraid, perhaps for the first time in his knowing the spirit. It whispered to his mind, without the others among them hearing. "The Fires are not friendly here. No Hearth will you find that welcomes them that stand with you."

► Show Spoiler

Due to the time-sensitive nature of this, I can not hold out for people to post. If you miss a round, there will (I'm afraid) be consequences including but not limited to exploding heads, death and dismemberment, ejection from the event, and violent incontinence.

[Faith Augustin]

35th Saun, 721:
Quacia

Qylios ignored her.

Not so much as a blink or a flicker or a glance in her direction. Faith had spoken directly to the Immortal ~ and she was an Immortal Faith knew, and it was like she simply wasn't there. That caused a deep frown to cross Faith's forehead and she glanced at Padraig. She didn't need to speak, he knew her mind - both literally and with the many years of being together. She sighed, slightly, but her face lit in a smile at the sight of Varlum and she hugged the ithecal without concern for just how big and scary looking he was - and how very much she was not.

"It's a pleasure," she said to Jasper, or so Qylios had called him, as she shook his hand. None of this was quite sitting right with Faith and she glanced at the others. Jasper of Melrath. A man she didn't know, and had never met. Dropped in by Qylios ~ who was not in the habit of just ignoring people, last time Faith had spoken with her - nor the time before, come to that. And so, with a concerned expression on her face, Faith spoke quietly. "There's something very uncomfortable here," she said. Glancing at Jasper, she asked. "So, I understand why we've been yanked out of what was turning into a perfectly pleasant trial, but what is it which brings you here, Jasper?" She tiled her head to the side and explained her question better. "Why did Qylios choose you, do you think?" As she spoke she used her Zuuda-granted abilityA Zuuda with this ability can see the lines of service that bind an individual. A powerful ability, the Zuuda must observe someone, concentrate on them for at least two bits at Favored, one bit at Adored and at Exalted, the Zuuda need only concentrate for a few trill (seconds), and use this ability. Know the Master will bring the face or the sigil of who or what the individual serves in their heart. Often a Zuuda never has to ask who someone works for, they can see the truth of their service and devotion within their soul. If the individual only serves themselves or serves nothing in particular, this ability only imparts a cold sense of emptiness. to make note of this man and who - or what - he served.

Then, she turned her gaze around the place, her eyes flecked with red now as she did. Faith had been in Famula's service for a very long time and she was used to seeing ghosts all around. Her gaze swept the place. Were there more of the unquiet dead here, or less? Was there anything different about them? She took a moment to assess, to consider. Tactically, she wanted to be sure of where they were, what they could still do. "Varlum," she said, softly. "Do you still have full access to your magic?" She wanted to check because she had something which might help them, should they come against magic use. "Be prepared to fight without it, if needed." She looked at Jasper then, and asked quietly. "Do you have magic or any unusual abilities which we would benefit from knowing of?" Business like and friendly, that was how she was. Padraig knew her "work face" well enough.

They made their way and there was strange language, strange clothing and air of dark and sinister which made her half expect a pantomime villain to leap out. "Burning vegetables," she said, softly. "plants of some kind, certainly." She'd try and get more information, if she could.

But then, there was the scream. And when that happened, the muscle in Faith's cheek twitched. "PB, find out how many people just died," she said. Her greater death spiritThe Spirit companion of the Bellinos grows more capable at this level. Having developed its relationship with the Bellinos, the Spirit becomes capable of manifesting to attack the foes of the Bellinos. When fully manifested, Greater Death spirits like the one that follows the Exalted will be immense, wingspans each the length of a horse's body. They maintain their appearance as a carrion bird, albeit cut from shadow with bright shining white eyes. Their talons are wickedly sharp and impart a heavy sense of foreboding death to those cut, often destroying an opponent's morale. In addition, the wounds fester and rot. If the opponent is something like a necromancer's thralls, the talons of the Death Spirit will quickly reduce the undead into an ashy heap of decaying flesh. When damaged, the spirit will retreat to the Beneath, the world beyond the physical in order to heal. did not manifest, but those who could see spirits such as him saw the enormous bird. Glancing at Padraig and Varlum, she commented softly. "He's changed a little."

Every instinct she had told her to run in. To fight the good fight and charge ahead heroically. But she had done that too many times, and although they'd always managed to win in the end, that had been more luck than judgement on a few occasions. She'd learned the value of patience. "We need to know what's going on here," Faith said, and waited for her invisible companion to come back.

Off Topic

She's used her Zuuda mark on Jasper to see if he's a baddie!
She's sent her Death Diri to find out what's going on in that there temple.
She's sniffing the air to see if her detection is enough to tell her more (I'm thinking Discerning OlfactionDiscerning Olfaction: Faith has such a well developed sense of smell that she is able to use it to identify the constituent parts / ingredients in organic matter. Be it a potion or a cake, Faith needs to sniff the item, and will then be able to identify what is in it. This only works for ingredients she is familiar with. might help).
She's looking to see how many ghosts are here - is it more or less than she'd expect?

[Padraig]

Quacia's architecture was incredible. The smell however, was incredibly bad, Padraig noted as the group moved along and took note of their surroundings. The smoke and the rot made his eyes sting and water. The whole place looked as if it ought to be abandoned; and yet it was not.

The nature of their own little mismatched and motley group ought to have raised a fair number of eyebrows, and yet didn't seem to, he noted. The language was a foreign one that he recognized due to to an Immortal blessing and a stone that he carried. He communicated as much to Faith and the others, and yet he was unable in this instance to translate what wasn't spoken directly to him. "Strange," he muttered, watching the locals in their fine rags scampering about from place to place.

"The judge will speak. Come with us," he finally said quietly, once a phrase seemed as much uttered to him, as anyone else within hearing distance. Strange though that none of them seemed to speak common at all. Not even broken common, which made him wonder...how was that possible in an age of trade? The shrill and piercing scream however startled the mortal born scholar out of thatline of thinking. If that wasn't the last gasp before a sudden and violent death, as Faith suggested, he wouldn't know what was. Without a thought, his hand seemed to move of it's own volition to to rest on the pommel of his sword.

There'd been something not quite right about all this, right from the start. Even the way they'd been brought together, to Qylio's interactions with them, her dismissal of Faith's words, all the way through. Neither he nor Faith had voiced those impressions out loud. But they didn't need to. They knew what the other was feeling and thinking. And none of it sat right. Not at all. So it was only natural for Faith to be curious about a member of their party that was new to them, and he'd been curious as to what Jasper would say.

Either way, they were here, and couldn't exactly ignore what was happening, or the scream. He knew Faith would never ignore it anyway. And to say that PB had changed, was quite the understatement. But Padraig knew how helpful Faith's strange little friend could be. He'd rather not go into any place blind. Particularly one where at least one person might have just met a violent end, and where few others if any seemed to show much concern in response. Or, well, scratch that. There had seemed to be a response from a rather large crowd, though it sounded more like a collective shout of jubilation than one of horror. Better to wait till PB returned with some kind of report before charging right in.

[Jasper]

Jasper

Rel

Ardiechy

Ruin's Dawn: Light Gluttony
35 of Saun, 721

The young man from Melrath could listened as his companion Eldloga whispered to him that this place wasn’t friendly, or welcoming. Jasper’s biggest concern was the spirit seemed almost afraid of what ever was around them. His brown eyes a little wide and a bit wild the youth looked more closely around him at the world the blasted Immortals had seen fit to drop him in. Unlike the others he didn’t see anything odd in the behavior, it fit in with exactly how the Immortals were betrayed by myth and story. The young Aesir did have to admit though that spirits tended to also summon there servants with out a by your leave but there was something less curt about there summons. Or at least so if felt to the young man.

The world they had come to help a ghastly beauty. While an artistic eye had been expressed there hadn’t been any love or care exerted afterwards. The young man who had though the smells of Raelia unpleasant longed for the stench of hardworking people who actually cared about the place they lived in. More so he missed the clean honest smell of his village. This was the stench of decay, of apathy and of decay.

Luckily Faith’s questions to him distracted him from have to view, for a while, the filth of the outside world. “I have no clue why this Qylios would summon me.” He said honestly but not rudely. “She mentioned the spirits. I am one the Aesir.” He paused and looked at them not sure if they knew what that meant. “I am one of those blessed with the ability to detect the presence of nature spirits mainly Anoks and Induks, and my training has been to interact with them.” His face grew thoughtful. “I am companioned with the Dirri Eldloga, who is the spirit of the hearth.” He said indicating to the aspergillum on his belt. “I can do very basic rupturing as well.” He titled his head. “Is Qylios the one who likes drinking. I know how to make some of the best ales in Melrath.” His eyes twinkled with humor at that last skill.

While Faith was listening to him and using her ability she would find a few images float before her face. The first would be the image of a two women competing for dominance. The one supplanting the other was a young woman’s face. Beautiful, but mortal. The other was an older woman whose features were very similar Jasper’s own. Behind them a shifting set of scenic images showing places within the realm of Melrath, for those who know the place they would recognize them as the domains of the four great Induks of the country.

Jasper looked around hearing the cries and his eyes growing sad but determined. There was something wrong here and the young man struggled to see people in such pain. His home, and his family had always helped those less fortunate. And this offended every sense of the spirit priest. He turned to the others. “Can anyone enlighten me more as to what is this place?” He glanced back. “Besides being called Quacia, and having some Wounded God? Is that why it so bad. These people have become depressed because their God failed somehow?” Jasper paused at that last though. He wondered if maybe there was some type of Induk in the area. He spread out his mind and focused to see if he could detect any Induk’s especially injured ones in the area.

[Varlum]

Something was strange here. Faith picked up on it, Varlum could tell. Padraig likely did too. Varlum had met the immortals a number of times, Qylios being one of them. This entire situation felt off. Once Qylios left, he turned his head towards Faith specifically. "Anyone else find this all a little weird?" he asked bluntly, as Varlum always did. Then his glaze turned to Padraig to see what he thought of the entire thing. Jasper wasn't someone Varlum knew, nor did Qylios seem to imply they had met before, but Faith and Pad knew Qylios better than Varlum ever had. They would know if something was wrong, and Faith's face spoke volumes about her opinions on this entire thing.

Whatever he felt about the situation, however, Varlum felt he had to push on. Something was wrong here, whatever it was, so they would go. As he walked he stayed beside Padraig, looking to the man for a moment. "Good to see you again. Let's avoid cultists and dragons this time, shall we?" he grinned as they prepared to go to the temple, keeping quiet enough that nobody else would hear. Dragons were still a secret Varlum had to keep, one he did not share with any but Ethelynda. Then Faith asked about his magic, Varlum attempting to cast a little of his defiance, summoning a small flame within his own hand. If he could pull it off then he would tell Faith, if something felt weird he'd do the same. Either way, he'd test it as needed. Faith was always efficient and detailed, paying attention to every little detail she could.

Doing his best to ignore the thick smell as it hit his nose, he flinched for a moment. As he looked ahead, however, he realized quickly that cultists weren't going to be as avoided as he would have liked. The people ahead spoke a language he did not understand, and the entire place had a vibe he was not familiar with. Whatever adventure they were on now was different to the adventure they had prior, travelling through the barrier. This place felt almost alien to the Ithecal, like nowhere he'd ever been before. As he watched whatever happened, he stood beside Faith, her saying they need to know what was going on here.

"Agreed" he started, looking out at the strangers ahead of them. "Something about this is wrong, all of it. Qylios seemed different, this place is like nowhere I've ever been - and I know Faldrun. My father is many things, and power hungry is one of them. But why now? Why is he making a move now, of all times? What stopped him before?" he wondered openly, looking forward. Then he turned to his group. "Where do we begin?"