• PM To Join • Clarity

[Faith Augustin]

16th Zi'da 716

The food was cooking, things were organised and Faith was pleased. There were a lot of men and women to feed and, without a doubt, she felt the responsibility very keenly. She had been given a responsibility and she intended to see it through to the absolute best of her ability. She was unnerved by the crowds, she didn't like them at all in truth and the fact that this was a military encampment made it worse, not better to her. But it was what it was and so the young woman did her best and got on with it. It was a logistical feat, that was for certain, but she was confident that she was up to the task. The responsibility that she had been given was important to her and she wanted to make sure that she was doing the job the best she could.

She had been and checked on the supplies. Because yes, she had the lists that she had been given, but it was not Faith's way to rely on someone else's lists, or someone else's counting. Not when other people relied on her to be doing this. So she had gone and counted everything again. Because then, if it was a mistake, it was hers; she would own it and she would be responsible for it. To her mind, that was the only way to be. She clutched, in her hands, the lists she had made, ready to check against the ones that she had been given. As she was walking back, Faith caught sight of Mister Sintih and she made a slight detour. She had caught sight of him here and there throughout the journey, in this place and that, but never got the chance to speak to him, so she was glad of the chance to now.

On this trial, Faith was wearing leather armour. It was well made and she seemed comfortable in it. She had a gladius on a belt at her waist and it was more or less a permanent look for her at this point. Her movements were careful and controlled, as they had ever been, but it would be a lie to say that she looked in any way comfortable in the armour. However, she approached Sintih and gave a smile. "Mister Sintih! I thought I saw you a few times over the last few trials. How are you?" She was genuinely pleased to speak to him and her expression showed it. "I did not expect to see you on a military campaign! A professor of history, but more besides, it seems." She shouldn't be surprised she supposed, Malcolm was a professor at the University, after all. "I didn't know you knew the Warden." The sparring practice she had seen had unnerved her, it had to be said, but she was sure that Mister Sintih had an explanation. So she smiled and waited to see what he said.

[Sintih]

In a camp of something over a hundred people it was inevitable that you would run into someone you were trying to avoid. As luck would have it, the person he was mostly avoiding wasn't with Faith when she'd finally caught him. The only problem then was that when she did finally see him, it was right when he stepped into a spar between the warden and two new recruits. She'd watched as Sin had stepped in and had managed to deliver the blow he'd wanted to deliver. It hadn't been accompanied with as much physical pain as he'd liked but the blow to the warden's ego had been more than worth it. The look on Faith's face as she had been standing there, holding onto his scabbard wrapped blade while Elyna was with him had made none of it worth anything.

Of all the people present here she was the only one he didn't want to see and she was the only one that seemed keen on seeing him. He had gone out of his way to get his hands on some intel on the campaign by boarding one of the secondary ships to avoid Faith and Padraig but it had only held off the inevitable for the few trials they were at sea. Within a break Faith had spotted him and Sin had pretended not to see or hear her to get away from her. That only lasted until the warden had invited him to spar with them. Considering everything, Sin was stuck now that Faith had directly walked into his sight and seen that he'd seen her.

She looked great, as always. The armor she wore did nothing to keep his heart from beating faster. It didn't suit her in the least but she made it look like it did. The weapon at her side fit her about as well as Sin would have with a tree on his belt. When she approached him and smiled at him, Sin had to force himself not to respond. She greeted him and he got busy repressing the things he wanted to feel and say. Picturing the warden and his knights laughing at Sin did the trick, darkening his usually friendly face. "Faith." He greeted her back and for the first time since they met, without a smile on his face when he did. "I'm great." Like she didn't know he had just become the laughing stock of the camp because of the little woman.

Faith kept up her usual self, like nothing had happened. Her smile was radiant as ever and she sounded happy to see him, even here mixed between all these killers and dressed for war. To calm himself, Sin put his left hand on the short sword she had held not too long ago, now back on his waist. His thumb rubbed the pommel of the blade as she continued. When she mentioned the warden, Sin felt a little insulted that Faith would ever think Sin could be friends with a person such as Malcolm. "I don't." He was angry, mostly at himself but also a little at the warden and the captain and himself. And all that anger could go nowhere except towards Faith. It was childish and stupid and he'd probably need to get his hands on a pretty good gift later on to make it up to her but he did it anyway.

His grip on his blade tightened as he looked at Faith, all the things he wanted to say running amok through his mind while he kept himself from talking, kept himself from looking at her and kept himself angry by remembering the warden's face just before the spar, with hat smug look on his face. His eyes wandered about the camp, seeing it slowly settle down for the night. Shifts were changing and people were gathering around their own fires and tents, in their units, talking with friends whom they might never see again after this campaign, or even after their first battle. He quickly thought about how many would die because of the warden's pride before turning back to Faith.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Cold. It hurt him doing it but he didn't want her to be here and maybe she'd leave all together if he did this. Sure she would. What an idiot he was. Why didn't he ask her about the boat trip? About her cooking, her work, her being a free woman now. Heck, even Padraig, why didn't he ask about him? Even that would be more pleasant to him right about now.

[Faith Augustin]

He sounded upset, he looked upset and Faith watched him with concern in her eyes. "You don't seem to be great", she replied to his first words, looking at him with a calm expression. "Not great at all. You seem to be upset." What was it, she wondered, that he was upset about? Was it because he hadn't killed Malcolm? Or maybe because Lady Elyna had yanked him back by the scruff of the neck? What was it that had upset him so much about that situation, she wondered. Faith didn't want to jump to conclusions, it simply wasn't her way, but he was behaving oddly.

Then, he put his hand on his sword.

Her face showed her surprise at that, looking at the hand on the sword and then back to him. But she didn't look afraid, whether that was because she didn't believe that he would hurt her, or for some other reason, who knew? He didn't know the Warden? So he said and he ground out the words through anger. Faith stood, calm and placid, not at all threatening, just quiet as she looked at him until she replied. "I do. I know him. He is one of the best men I have ever met, Mister Sintih. He is. And Captain Burhan?" Her face betrayed what she would say before she said it, in fairness "If I could choose a sister, in my heart, it would be her. Of all the souls who walk this soil, hers is the most beautiful. I don't understand what happened there in that sparring match. I am not a soldier, I am a chef. I don't like violence, it upsets me. But I know if it was a misunderstanding they will get past it and if it was anger, then something you have learnt is wrong because they are good people. I promise you. I know that I'm just the slave that taught you to cook, but I promise you that." Of course, Padraig thought that he was sweet on her, but Faith considered, most genuinely, that Padraig hadn't seen him look at her like he was right now.

Is there something I can help you with he asked, as cold as the ZI'da snows themselves and Faith smiled at him with as genuine a smile as the first one and all the ones in between when she answered. "Yes, Mister Sintih. You could help me very much by explaining to me what's made you so angry at the Warden, or this place, or this campaign? I know that it doesn't seem it, but I might have some insights. Plus, it never hurts to talk to a friend, does it?"

[Sintih]

Sin had always been able to live with the choices he made, to sacrifice small things in order to achieve the greater ones. In practicing his tactics, trying them out against various types of opponents, he'd sent hundreds if not thousands of imaginary knights to their deaths in order to win, to wrap his hands around his enemies and squeeze until they were dead. In game form, it had been easy, and in reality Sin had found that it was only slightly less easy to do the same. Cutting away unnecessary things in order to achieve the important ones. All of these things he'd been able to justify to himself, even when others thought him the worst possible being alive for making those choices.

When he put his hand on his weapon, Faith's face in that moment, the way she looked at him, burned into his mind forever. He'd seen her do nothing but smile ever since they'd met and yet something he had done, something so tiny he'd never considered it, had caused her to look surprised, had caused her to break from her smile and seem as though he was about to hurt her. His hand tightened around his blade, anger on his face, anger at himself, at his actions, at his inability to convince himself he was in the right. When Faith started talking about how the warden was one of the best men she'd ever met, the anger stayed, now focused on Malcolm and himself.

One of the best men she'd ever met? Did she think Malcolm better than him? How could she ever consider a man like that to be a good man? While he could do nothing but be angry at Malcolm, Sin didn't have the same drive towards the female captain she mentioned next. The anger softened somewhat, fading in front of Faith's words. Sin had no idea how bad it was for Faith as a slave or what she'd gone through but he knew that slaves had no family and were usually nothing more than a tool to their owners. The fact that the captain was chosen as a sister figure meant very little to Sintih but that -she- would choose her to be her sister carried much more weight for the Eidisi.

Why did she keep smiling? He was tearing himself apart from the inside trying to get her to leave him alone and she just kept standing there, being understanding and caring, trying to look after her friend who was doing his best to choose his words so that they would hurt her. When she finished, Sin stayed in place for a trill, looking at Faith with his anger. His hand on his blade had long gone numb from the squeezing he was doing with it. Not wanting to shout his opinions into the camp, Sin suddenly stepped forward, crossing what little distance there was between them.

If Faith had been of similar height as Sin maybe his action could have been regarded as something more than simply moving. Maybe if everything hadn't been piling up like it had this trial, Sin might have considered an alternative approach that didn't involve words he'd regret a break from now. Standing so close to her, Sin could almost smell her as he looked down at her. His voice was more of a hissed whisper when he spoke. "This place and this campaign are perfectly fine. It's just that all of these people are marching to their deaths under the incompetent leadership of some two nel noble who's good at swinging around big swords. He's done nothing to deserve the position he's in. But does anyone care?" Despite his best efforts, his voice was increasing in volume as he spoke, going from a whisper to angry talking.

"He completely messed up on the previous campaign but a little tap on the wrist and he's back at it again. Nobody cares that a man like him makes the same mistakes over and over again. He just pays his way back into their favor. And me? I'm stuck with this useless body in this stupid white tabard. Just because I can't walk around in a metal suit and swing a big piece of metal around I'm kept down like this. They can't even see past the white in order to see my value. I'm not a noble so I'm worthless to them." Panting for air, Sin hadn't realized he'd put both his hands on Faith's shoulder, gripping her tightly. His eyes were filled with more than anger now, a backlog of six arcs, if not a lifetime, of frustration welling up from somewhere deeper inside as he looked at Faith.

"I worked my whole life to become a knight, a leader of soldiers known by all and all I got for it was this stupid piece of cloth. I wasn't even worth the price of a weapon. Everything I've managed to achieve so far means nothing in the eyes of the people that watch me. They're too busy looking at people like Malcolm, louts with big last names and no useful skills. But he's good at swinging his sword around so he must be a great man! The cold air between them was being filled with small clouds of white that disappeared and reappeared quickly, keeping up with Sin's breathing.

There were some people around them looking in their direction but Sin couldn't see them, his mind in disarray. His thoughts were quickly flashing between multiple thoughts, getting nowhere with any of them. He didn't even register the fact that he was touching Faith or that he might be hurting her as his hands continued to squeeze her shoulders. There was more he wanted to say but he couldn't decide which one to continue with so instead he just stood there like an idiot, staring at Faith. His breathing was shallow and quick as if he'd just run here from Andaris.

[Faith Augustin]

His grip on his sword tightened, she could see that it did even as the fury in his eyes intensified and Faith had a moment where things could have gone one of two ways. Certainly in the past, there had been moments like this for her. Where a split trill decision was made. The time that a stanger had walked into Tristan's house, when shadow beasts had attacked in Tristan's and in Padraig's. Both of those times, she had fought. The zombie attack where she stood with a frypan ready to defend Lady Elyna ~ who turned out to be a damn fine swordswoman and had helped Faith as she vomited after the battle and the adrenaline had worn off ~all of those times she had reacted to fear in a very particular manner. By fighting back. But there were a hundred other times, of course, or a hundred thousand perhaps, where the young woman had faced fear and had stood still. The difference was simple. If Faith was defending her owner, her instinct had always been to do so without thought for herself. But now? Now she was the young woman who had stood in the undertakers and remained still while Yana put burning salve into her eye or the one who had stood through a raft of pain and punishment the like of which most people would never comprehend, then thanked the one who had dealt it. She wasn't defending anyone here, she had no owner any more and Faith looked at Sintih with fear in her eyes as his fingers tightened around the sword.

She tried to calm the situation with a quiet voice and he closed the distance between them, his hands clamping onto her shoulders. Faith looked up at him in surprse as she felt his fingers start to dig into her, but she did not show any reaction to the pain, she was too well trained to do so. She looked up with wide eyes as he started to speak, at first in a hissing whisper but soon raising his voice. She listened to it, to all of it, her expression showing her fear as his hands dug into her. But not just that, she listened to his words and then, standing there so close that she knew that, if he wished it he could strike her, Faith spoke. Her voice was quiet as always.

"You don't know him. He wasn't given the title of Warden because of his last name, he earned it by working through the ranks. You don't know him, not at all do you? I do and I say again, he is the best of men. And it's not him you hate. It's you. It's the bits of you that aren't him because he has what you want and you don't, so you hate him. Mister Sintih that isn't right. If what you want is to be 'known by all' and if you get angry because someone is a higher rank than you? Is more skilled than you and has what you want because he worked for it? If you think to have value you have to be seen, then the last thing you should be is in charge of men. The Warden worked for his commission. He has done nothing to earn this vitriol except be a better man than you. You should be ashamed of yourself, Mister Sintih, you have become jealous and full of envy and that is an ugly emotion."

His hands were hurting her and she lifted one of hers to put it on his "You're hurting me. Oh!" Her hand, despite being bare in this weather, was warm to the touch against his skin. He might notice the black delicate tattoo on her wrist which certainly had not been there last time he saw her. Faith's eyes widened and she looked at him in fear "Blood? You have no... let me go, I have to go back!" the fear in her eyes intensified and she started to struggle to break out of his grip.

Mod Note

In this post Faith is utillising the ability "Burning Blood" from her Zuuda Blessing. It is the sixth ability in "Favored" and allows the following:

► Show Spoiler

Blood is sacred to Famula. Some say the soul lives in the blood and although such has never been proven, Famula does grant abilities to her chosen under that purview. This ability allows a marked to increase the temperature of their blood, and their body temperature without any harm to their internal organs. A Zuuda is always protected from the cold and has automatic control over the temperature of their own internal liquids. When in duress, a marked can confer this unnatural heat onto another without the safeguard of Famula’s protection. In others this immediately confers a raging fever, dizziness, nausea, and weakness throughout their body. Contact must be maintained if a Zuuda wishes to kill someone with this ability...in which case at least five breaks must be maintained before the damage becomes fatal. Otherwise this is a powerful and simple curse to confer on someone attempting to grapple a Zuuda. As long as their opponent has blood within them, a Zuuda can use this ability. A curious side effect of this ability, a Zuuda can usually easily tell Yludih by touch, immediately realizing that there is no blood within them.

Last sentence of that is most relevant. At review, if possible, I'd appreciate knowledges in this if the reviewer deems it appropriate.

[Kylar]

Kylar fired another bolt at the target, hitting near the center - a lucky shot. "You want to give it a try?" he asked, turning to Atashi who was over in the distance. The two hadn't spoke much since their last expedition, let alone this one. Perhaps it was due to the fact one had stayed and one had been sent home. Or perhaps both had changed. Either way, he wasn't about to ignore his friend. He cared for Atashi, despite how badly he might have shown it of late.
"You know, it's not your fault I got injured" he said to the Ithecal, a serious tone. "If anything, I hold myself to blame. I turned my back on what I assumed was an empty room. Before I knew it, I heard footsteps and a battle cry. Turn around and a blade hit me, next thing I know I'm on the floor being bandaged with Ser Malcolm and a young woman named Kathryn around me" he explained. He frowned a little, and the next bolt he fired hit the dirt. He never worked well under stress. "What happened to you was unfortunate, and perhaps if you had been there I might not have been in such a vulnerable position. But those conditions were agonizing, and the things I saw painful. I would never wish that upon my best friend."

As Kylar started to shake, his eyes finally met Atashi fully. "I'm sorry, Atashi, for how I treated you. For how blank I went. I didn't want to hurt you, or Crimson. I didn't want to hurt anyone."
"I was afraid. I was beyond afraid. I almost let myself get killed and I was worried that if we got close I would almost get you and Crimson killed as well. I know it was wrong and I'm sorry, but it's a mistake I have to live with. I don't expect you to just forgive me, but I apologized - from now it's out of my hands" he said finally, loading one last bolt. With a shaky hand, he fired and just hit the target.

Before he could react, he heard a shout. He looked to see a small struggle. The man that had attacked Malcolm and...Faith? Immediately, Kylar loaded another bolt. "Atashi!" he shouted, gesturing to the two. "I know that woman, come on!"
Kylar ran over to the two, noticing the man that Faith had arrived with as he did so. He had no doubt that man would be involved if he cared for her like it seemed by all appearances. Kylar drew his crossbow and looked to the two, drawing attention of other knights. "Is there a problem here?" he asked, not lowering his weapon. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but he didn't care. Faith was a friend, and an ally too. Whether they'd barely met or not, Kylar wasn't going to let her get hurt in any way. Especially as she didn't seem to take well to it.
"How about you do us all a favor and let go" Kylar said, snarling. "Or perhaps we get the higher ranking involved too? Assault is bad, assault on a military expedition - perhaps even worse."

[Padraig]

[img]/gallery/image ... ge_id=5045[/img]

If he'd said that he was happy, or even content with the idea of Faith speaking alone with the man, he'd have been lying. A lie of epic proportions. If she'd planned it, he'd have sensed his misgivings, they'd have been impossible to hide. He probably would have insisted she didn't.

Just a trial or two ago, he might not have thought anything of it, when he saw her come across the man by happenstance, and stop to talk with him. He'd met Sintih previously after all, at the snow party that he'd invited Faith to, back in Andaris. And then, in spite of the man's clear dislike for him, and a few well aimed glares, none of it had given him cause for alarm.

The man had clearly been sweet on her, was all. At least from Padraig's perspective, and he was probably jealous that she was already taken.

Since their arrival however, things had changed. The man had seemed both distant, and actively avoiding them both at once. Even that wouldn't have concerned him, overmuch, until he became aware of a scuffle between the man and the Warden. If not seen, word traveled fast in a camp full of bodies with not much to do but spar with each other and spread tales. Most of them, Padraig ignored. But this one had caught his attention, and given him cause for concern. The actions that Sintih had undertaken hadn't seemed quite in character, when compared to what he'd seen earlier. It made him wonder, was the man's true nature the one he'd witnessed back in Andaris, or was this act...one without an apparent honor, a truer reflection.

Whichever it was, he hadn't intervened when he spotted them coming together. But he kept her in sight throughout. He'd sat down on a stump at the edge of the camp, and made a show of crafting more hollow tips for his poisoned bolts. They needed to be made after all, but in the process of keeping an eye on Faith, distraction took it's toll and he hardly got a one of them done. He couldn't hear the words exchanged, but he tensed when the man seemed to drop a hand to his weapon. He tensed more and scowled deeply when the other man took one too many steps towards her.

And when he grabbed hold of her shoulder and she cried out? Padraig was wound so tight by then, when he came unsprung it was enough to dump his work on the ground and leave it behind as he covered the distance between them. There might as well be no one between him and Faith. If there were there he didn't see them, and probably jarred a shoulder or two on his way. But he had his blade drawn already when he got there.

He knew Kylar. Had met him earlier. But if the man's words could have in any way been interpreted as a polite request, Padraig's was not. "Hands off her. Now," he ground out. If Sintih had not still had hold of her, Padraig would have acted without bothering to speak first. The only thing that stopped him was her welfare, had he done it. But what sort of man put his hands on a woman half his size? Or any woman? The only answer was no man at all.

[Atashi]

Atashi sat on his tail with a bucket of water at his side, his Tower shield rest on the floor, he had been cleaning it for the most part of ten minutes. Running his fingers over the surface, he could feel the scratches that the broken-jawed crook left for him in Andaris. He wasn't fond of those memories. Fortunately, (or unfortunately) a distraction had offered itself to him in the form of Kylar. At first, he ignored his offer, he wasn't interested in small talk, it was a waste of their time and he didn't particularly want to start up his rage again that night. He might not have a choice in the matter, however.

Finally, Kylar spoke something with meaning. Atashi put the rag in the bucket and lifted his shield, using it as lever age to help himself up, he rested the shield against a nearby post and approached Kylar. He felt more willing to commit to this conversation, though the fire in his chest had other plans. "What happened to me? Are you being serious?" Atashi asked aggression in his voice. "Kylar, I got the easy part. I got sent home like the meaningless Mercenary I was. You however, YOU got the 'unfortunate' part. I left you to this Warden to face impossible odds, I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, dead or alive." His throat burned, a discomfort he was growing more familiar with in recent trials.

His fists clenched as his tail began to sway, tell-tale signs that he was losing his temper. "You might not blame me, but I do. If I'd just had a better control of.. of this!" He said, slamming his fist into the centre of his chest. "This rage, this fear. If I'd just behaved like I was meant to you wouldn't have been hurt." To finally get these words off his chest hurt for sure, but removing a thorn is always painful at first. His voice calmed down to a point, nearing the end of his rant. "...And I know you didn't want to hurt us, Kylar. Neither did I want you wounded, I didn't want to leave you to begin with..." He stood in silence for a moment, watching as Kylar just hit his mark. Kylar had apologised to him, why couldn't he say it back? Try as he might the words wouldn't leave his mouth.

It wasn't as though he thought he'd done no wrong, he knew he had. Passing by whatever pride he could muster, he spoke quietly, "...Kylar... I'm-" He cut off his own sentence as he looked to Kylar, his focus had shifted elsewhere. Curious of where, he followed his line of sight to see the creepy cook and the warden's assailant in a scrap? Kylar loaded his crossbow, leaping into the fray and calling for Atashi. Atashi, not having time to go and collect his shield with his hands, swung his tail, trying to pick it up with the appendage. He succeeded in knocking it over like a moron. Panicking, he rushed over, picked it up and then rushed to the scene.

Arriving as quickly as he could, he found Kylar aiming his crossbow at the assailant’s head, point-blank. While seeming a little extreme, he accepted that kylar knew what he was doing and did not question him, he instead looked to the Lotharro's eyes. As he expected - plenty of focus and intent. He hadn't seen him so ready to kill a man before, it was unnerving. It just went to show though - things really had changed. Atashi simply waited, hand on the handle of his hammer. This squire certainly had a knack for causing trouble. First the warden now the cook? Was he trying to kill everyone off one by one? Unlikely, but it got him thinking. There was no way in hell that he'd let that happen.

[Sintih]

He'd only know her for a short while but ever since that cooking class, he had always thought of her as self control incarnate. If ever there was an immortal of self control, Faith would be it. It seemed to come so naturally to her in all situations. When the noble woman had been chewing her out she was smiling and friendly to her, ignoring all the quips and barbs the woman threw at her. When she was sat between two men who couldn't stand each other because of her, she seemed perfectly fine with it and carried them both through the evening without any incident. When she had been holding Sin's sword after he'd just attacked the warden, she'd been standing there, radiating calm and peace from the edge of his vision.

But now, seeing her afraid of him, he couldn't handle that. How could she ever think that he would hurt her? He liked her, loved her even. Right? She was important to him. What was he doing? Why were his hands gripping her shoulders so tightly and why wasn't he letting go of her? Why did his face feel so tense and his body so worked up? Stop it, you idiot. Can't you see you're scaring her? Let her go, apologize. Maybe she'll forgive you, she's kind enough to do so. You can fix this. Sin's grip on Faith lessened for a trill, his hands still painfully on her shoulders but less so than a moment before. What was it that she was saying? His grip tightened once more as Sin realized what she was talking about.

No, no, no. Faith. Not you too? All this Malcolm, Malcolm, Malcolm. Why didn't anyone want to believe him? Why couldn't anyone see what he saw? What was so good about the warden that everyone here seemed to just love everything about him? Of all the people Sin thought could see through him, Faith had been far on top of his list. Weren't slaves supposed to see bullshit from a mile away? Hadn't she seen enough of it in her lifetime to realize what all this was? "Oww!"

His initial reaction to the feeling of Faith's hand on his bare wrist was one of overreaction. The cold Zi'da air had all but frozen his exposed skin and the reaction it had with the divinely enhanced heat of Faith's own body caused Sin to let go of her, feeling as if he had been burned. His left hand grasped the wrist of his right as he stepped back from Faith, his eyes down to his wrist. That moment of pain overrode everything else Sin was thinking and feeling. Sin's anger for Malcolm paled in comparison with his worry for Faith. If he had gotten hurt from that touch then Faith was in a similar condition. His eyes showed worry when he looked back up towards her. "Faith, are you alr-..." Sin stared right into the pointy end of a crossbow bolt and a sword.

Why did it have to be these guys? Out of all the people in this entire camp, Aelig had to pick these guys. Sin looked past the sword point at Padraig and then towards the man behind the crossbow, seeing the blonde man who had sparred with the warden before and next to him the snake man who had pushed the warden into Sin's blow. He couldn't see Faith past them. Really, Father? Sin didn't really know how immortals and praying to them worked but he hoped that Aelig would get the message. To mess with his own children like that. With his hand still on his wrist, Sin took a step back from all the dangerous weaponry in front of him, looking from face to face.

Then he turned towards the snake man, the only one who didn't seem ready to kill him on sight. Padraig was out of the question. Even without knowing the man, he could see that his mind was currently held hostage by his feelings for Faith and would turn anything Sin said into a fight. The crossbow wielding man just looked too fierce, too ready to kill should Sin open his mouth. So, despite that the warning came from the blonde man's mouth, Sin addressed the snake man. "It was just an argument. Nothing to get so worked up over." Sin's entire tactic was based not on his knowledge of the snake man or his race but on the fact that the man hadn't automatically drawn his entire arsenal of weaponry on Sin, which told the Eidisi that he was at least cautious, if not willing to listen and talk this through.

[Faith Augustin]

It all changed so fast, she had trouble keeping up with it. One minute his hands were digging into her shoulders, fury and contempt on his face as he relaxed his grip just slightly, only to tighten it again less than a trill later. Then, people arrived and spoke, she touched her hand to him to try and get his hands off her and the new Zuuda was unprepared for the sensation which touching him gave her. He yelled out ow, although Faith didn't believe she had hurt him, so much as shocked him. It was unsurprising, really, he was freezing to the touch. But that all happened simultaneously with it going from just the two of them to quite a few within a trill, it seemed.. Whether Sintih let go because of her touch, or because of those people who suddenly appeared, she couldn't say. But she didn't question it. Even once he had let her go, she stood rooted to the spot as Kylar spoke. She was relieved, there was no doubting it but she did not move. But then, four words from Padraig and Faith turned to see that she was seeing what she thought she was seeing, relief starting to replace the very genuine terror she had felt. Later, she would question why she hadn't fought back, why she had stood and allowed that to happen, but the truth was she didn't need to question, she already knew.

Previously frozen to the spot, the sight of Padraig spurred her to move, albeit the few short steps to his side. He looked furious and Faith considered that she had never seen him look like he did right now. But then, it was as extreme a situation as the two of them had seen. "I'm sorry, I couldn't... " her voice was low and she was cursing herself for having been a coward, having let Sintih do that. She could have, should have, stopped him she did not doubt. But her head was reeling and she tried to think, to consider what to do.

Because this situation had changed.

This was no longer one angry man grabbing her. This wasn't anything like that. The vitriol which he had spoken, the manner and cause of his anger ~ and then the realisation from touching his wrist. It added up to too much and Faith didn't know what to do with it. But then, of all things, mister Sintih said that it was nothing, just an argument and Faith shook her head. "No. It wasn't just an argument. You were hurting me. I did nothing and you were hurting me and then hurting me more." She spoke that to Sintih, but then to the three who had turned up, looking around at the three of them earnestly ~ her silver eyes were wide and she was obviously afraid, but she was determined they understood. "That's not right, it's really not. Please, you have to believe me, that isn't what it was", she looked up at Padraig mostly, but also at Kylar and the Ithecal who she had seen around camp but who, as yet she didn't know. "I was just checking inventory for the food", the lists were on the floor, trampled underfoot and useless now, but they were there "And I just... I just asked if he was alright. He seemed upset so I said that it might help to talk to a friend. Then he had me by the shoulders and it hurt and I couldn't..." She looked at Padraig and shook her head "I'm sorry. I should have fought back but I couldn't. But I need to tell Lady... Captain Burhan. Please, please just keep everyone here?"

She put her hand on Padraig's arm and squeezed. Looking up at him she gave the best smile she could and she knew that they were going to have to talk about this, and she was going to have to sort it out, but right now she needed to find Lady Elyna. She turned and went to go and look for her, but didn't have far to go, because the skyrider was striding towards her, obviously having seen the altercation and making her way over. Faith ran forward to meet her "I'm sorry, but we have a situation." She looked scared still, but she sounded calm "Mister Sintih, the man who attacked the Warden in the sparring? He just.. he. I know him, from before this. I bumped into him just now and I asked him if he was alright, he grabbed me, by the shoulders and wouldn't let go just digging his hands in. It hurt. But," she put her hand on Lady Elyna's arm and Faith's hand was warm to the touch. "I'll explain how I know this later, but he has no blood" She kept her voice so low that she had to lean forward for Lady Elyna to hear her "The only other time I've seen that I was pulling glass out of a cut hand and you tore up a tablecloth." It would be enough, she was sure, for Lady Elyna to put two and two together. And in truth, that was all she knew. She would, without pause, let or hindrance, tell Lady Elyna about the Zuuda mark, she simply figured that now was not really the time for extraneous side-stories. "He was just so angry at the Warden. Saying he doesn't deserve to be in charge, that he's a two-nel noble who bought his way here and how mister Sintih has worked all his life and that people should be looking at him, not the Warden." Because as Faith saw it, if this got to combat, they would have a hard enough time fighting against the Qe'dreki and the beast and whatever else was out there. The last thing they needed was a viper in their camp.