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[Title]

Title: 

Add the ability to contact sellers/buyers at marketplace

Summary:

Anyone who can visit the marketplace can send a message to anyone who is buying or selling food currently within their range.

Details:

Somewhere on the table of market offers on marketplace screen add a button for sending a message. Potentially restricted to traders for an additional benefit to the class.

Alternatively, or additionally, this could be listed in messages.

b]Benefits[/b]:

• Encourages communication.
• Enables negotiations to begin through the marketplace. This negotiation could be for the buy/sell offer already on the marketplace or future trades.
• Could be used as a class exclusive which adds to the reasons for being said class.
  

Possible Downsides/Exploits:

Could be seen as clutter on the table or message screen.

Probably won't be able to join myself but there are others who may join if they hear about it. Unfortunately, most don't seem to check the forums very often and that may be a hurdle in getting players. Discord could be a better place to gather some players for this.

Grabbing the side of the overturned table The Captain rose to his feet with one of the patrons mugs in his hand. "You have strength hairy one. But I have faced you four legged cousins before." For dramatic effect he lift his shirt to reveal three faded bear claw scars. "And they taught me the secrets of bear wrestling!" Then he launched the mug at Igor but his quick reflexes allowed him to side-step out the way.

At the same time Daeron rose to his feet, vision blurred massaging a throbbing pain in the back of his head. Unfortunately this allowed him to catch the mug with his face, sending him back to the floor on his back.

Undeterred The Captain unleashed the secret technique of "kick to the groin" but his knee was caught by one of Igor's hands while they used the other to grab the back of his thigh. Using this leverage they hoisted him from the floor in preparation to bring them crashing back to the earth. Yet just as they began to commit The Captain grabbed Igor's face in his hands and brought his other knee forward, connecting with the side of their face which sent the pair crashing through the crowd and into a stall of chicken.

As the Captain's knee blasted into Igor's cheek, Igor stumbled backwards before crashing into a stall of chickens. Feathers floated through the air and startled clucking called out from the crushed cages. Igor grimaced with pain while rolling over onto his stomach. Spitting out a loose tooth, which resided in a slush of blood, Igor staggered to his feet. With smeared fried chicken stuck to his hairy back, Igor approached the Captain. At a disadvantage from still trying to get up off the floor, the Captain futilely prepared a defensive. Igor's knee went right through the downed man's hands and crashed into his chest. Soft and furry, the large man's belly rubbed against the Captain's face in the process.

The Captain struggled to catch his fleeting breath and removed a couple of Igor's body hairs from his lips. Igor stepped away from the temporarily incapacitated man for he had no interest in pummeling someone who was on the ground. All this fun had made Igor thirsty anyhow, so he went over to a nearby table which had yet to see any action, and snatched up a half empty mug of ale. Quickly draining the rest of the liquid from the vessel, Igor dropped the mug back onto the table. Igor grinned at the nearby noble who just had their drink confiscated. Igor was vulnerably focused on the noble who kindly provided him with a refreshment as the Captain pulled himself together.

The Captain had crashed backwards into Moxie's table with Igor's last kick into the chest. As The Captain was composing himself, Moxie yelled out, "We playing tag here? Guess I'm it, eh?" Standing up, she broke into a run, tackled Eros Harte, yelling out, "You're IT!" and then ran off.

Moxie tackled Jarl Eros Harte who stood at the table next to Igor. Igor jumped with joy upon hearing the yell about a game of tag, a game Igor greatly enjoyed. As Moxie ran to one side of the tavern, Igor ran to the opposite, giggling the entire time. Grabbing a bystander at the far end away from Harte, Igor shielded himself with the unsuspecting noble. "Nah nah, Nah-nah, Nah," Igor yelled right beside the noble's ear as he taunted the Jarl, "hehehe."

The Captain lay there on the ground, winded. Covered in beer and chicken. The taste of sweat and hair alerting his senses. As far as he was concerned the fight was lost, the bear people had bested him.

However. In a state between delirium and drunken stupor an apparition appeared. The ghost of his father.
"Father?"
"My son. You have the strength within you to beat the bear man yet you have decided to forsake your promise to your house and given up amongst poultry of reasonable prices. Do you think I gave up so easily in my struggle against the daemons?"
"You wrestled daemons? It would not matter anyhow. If I could not wrestle this beast how could I compare to the skills you must have attained."
"Are you mad?! How would one wrestle a daemon?! They could fly and some where as tall as keeps! No way could I wrestle that!"
"But how did you defeat them then?"
"I did not rely on my strengths my son. I relied on my weaknesses of my enemies, as must you." The Captains father echoed as he slowly receded from this plane while he was left to ponder. What was his weakness? Through the drunken haze he searched, desperately but only one nonsense phrase came to mind "hoof, hoof" echoed just as his fathers words did. What could it mean? What secret could this provi-
"IT'S HORSES YOU SOFT MINDED FOOL! HE IS AFRAID OF HORSES!" The Captains father shouted down his ear but it made everything clear.
"Horses!" The Captain bolted up and ran outside, gathering the supplies he would need for the coming battle.

When he returned he had created a disguise to look like a horse-man. Straw for fur and wooden hooves where held in place by more tied straw and wax. The finishing touch was a bag with a hole cut into it in the shape sort of like a horse head. He trotted over to Igor who must have seen him enter as he was hiding behind a bystander, their eyes bulging at the sight before them.
."Hoof, hoof" Igor said in a mix of fear and confusion.
"Neigh!" The Captain boomed proudly towards the bear man as he turned about and placed his hands on the floor, kicking Igor through his shield and sending them both flying across the room.

Exhausted but defiant, he strode over to Daeron and hoisted them over his back. Making sure to take the ale he left from the table at the start of this, he trotted out of the tavern back to the hotel to the sight of confused and somewhat concerned onlookers.

Moxie was neither confused, nor concerned, when she saw Daeron riding a horse. Immediately hailing him, she hopped aboard behind Daeron and demanded they follow Kenneth MacArbin upon his steed, at once, at a full gallop! They were getting away!

Igor stopped his giggling as the odd Hoof Hoof made its way into the tavern. Full of dread, Igor's knees shook as the hoof hoof started towards him. Using the other noble as a shield in tag was going well, maybe it would work against hoof hoof too. The horse clopped awkwardly towards Igor and let out a fierce neigh. Oh the horror! Will anyone think of the children?!?

With a stiff kick to the noble shield, the horse sent Igor to the ground. Igor laid flat, and pretended to be dead. That was the best defense against a hoof hoof afterall.

After a few minutes past, Igor looked up to see the horse, and Moxie, had left the tavern. Igor let out a sigh of relief and moved over to the bar. That was a close one, Igor thought.

The following are all from the tournament currently being held in Sydgard. These are all recent as my character, Igor, just arrived today with only one day before the event. Anyways, enjoy!  ;D

---

Igor pushed open the tavern door and waltzed inside. With only his ample body hair covering his skin, Igor made his way to the bar.

"Drink," Igor commanded sternly.

The barkeep quickly filled a mug for the naked noble without asking for payment for the drink. Hastily Igor finished the mead and slammed the mug down.  Nervously the barkeep made sure his upturned mustache wasn't fraying. Igor grunted at the brown eyed barkeep who was playing with his facial hair. Finally getting the hint, the bartender filled another mug. After finishing the second drink, Igor belched and turned towards the crowd. As Igor took stock of his surroundings, the barman filled the mug yet again.

Seeing the naked man Niall stood up and undressed himself. Then he took his drink and lifted it high in the air and saluted: "Drink!"

"Drink!" a freshly de-robed man called out from the crowd.

Igor was not one to avoid a good binge nor a grab and quickly emptied his mug. Slamming the mug back onto the bar, the barkeep filled Igor's mug once again as Igor continued to look at the crowd.

Flavia wonders if this is going to be one of *those* gatherings.  She is much too old for that, and was disinclined to public shenanigans even when she was young.  She sidles toward the exit, just in case.

Igor eyed the lady who made her way towards to door. This was curious but not enough for Igor to take action. Instead, as there seemed to be nothing but private chit chat happening, Igor decided to make a toast.

"Igor make toast, no bread thing, the speak thing," he called out as he raised his full mug of mead into the air, "noble fight 'morrow, show who strongest man. Strong man make law, no weak man, that Syd way, that best way. Igor wish all noble luck 'morrow." Igor looked around before concluding with a loud yell, "down with hoof hoof!"

Igor emptied his mug with ease and looked around the room...

There's some fried chicken randomly passed around. It tasted like something oily.

"And if you want to learn about hoof hoof join the college of knowledge where all your knowligolical things are catered for!"

"We sponsor scholarships for some things. But we also search for that legendary chicken said in myth to once have been so ancient as to have been colossal and have teeth. It also supposedly roared like a tiger."

As there were murmurs of chicken and books, Igor grew dissatisfied. Taking charge of the situation, Igor smashed his mug into the head of the person directly next to him...

"They apparently have never heard of spiced wine before but have a large collection of ales so I got us..." The Captain arrived to see a naked beast standing over Daeron after breaking a mug over his head. Looking between Daeron, the beast and the ale he placed one mug to his lips, gulping it down in one go and placing the other daintily down on the table next to him. "Keep you safe here for when he is done with his nap." He muttered before charging the furry man for a close line.

Igor dropped the mug to the floor and placed both hands upon his round midsection. Uproarious laughter filled the tavern as Igor's head drifted upwards, the hairy beast just couldn't contain himself. Loud clops began merging with the hearty laugh as a man's boots slammed down onto the wooden floor. Igor paused and looked at the man charging at him.

"Uh," slipped from Igor's lips as the attacker drew in close.

Violently the Captain's bicep smacked Igor's mushy chest, sending Igor onto the bar. With his back rolling up onto the tarnished wood, Igor's legs went slightly into the air, giving all a view of his lower half that was normally covered by Igor's gut.

Grunting, Igor grabbed the Captain's arm with one hand and his head with the other. Using all his weight the rotund noble pushed forward to place his feet back onto the barroom floor, bringing the Captain with him. The muscles hidden beneath Igor's blubber tensed as he threw the Captain towards a crowd to his left. Crashing onto the wooden table, all of the group's drinks fell to the floor. Igor chuckled at the great fun and started stepping forward with his hands down in order to follow through with his attack on the Captain.

I don't really know anything about [explorers] but I voted anyhow.  :)

And made a tweet about the voting:

https://twitter.com/_BattleMaster_/status/1189503094800949249?s=19

"The Veiled Goddess proved Her power by empowering the Oracle during her battle with Akkan in Ete City." Eva called out, "What exactly have the other deities done?"

Dancer could feel his rage manifesting like a coiled dragon at her words. How dare she directly imply her bedtime story was greater then his Lord? The Great Lord Akkan never would have been defeated by some dirty veiled whore. Her guards moved in on him, an unspoken command rippling though the air. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the back of the Grandmistress. So, she was going to have him beaten, or worse, taken into custody. The former, he could handle, the latter however.... well, his excuse for a disguise was only on the surface. Capture would only result in torture, and death. So be it then, he thought, at least he would go down fighting on his home soil. Perhaps the Lords would be merciful, and send him back again. He smiled a sad smile at the thought, and reached for his sword. The thick pad of scars layered across his back pulled on his muscles. Failures didn't receive mercy.

Before he could draw, the forest suddenly burst with movement, a small horde of Undead careening though the trees at the humans. Most of the guards turned to the new threat, only two focusing on Dancer. Dodging the first guard, the cultist attempted to disappear in the forest opposite the rampaging corpses, but the second guard grabbed him by his pack. With a shout, Dancer drew his sword, infernal runes blazing in the sunlight, coming down on the man's helmet with a resounding clang. The man went cross eyed, and dropped to the ground. Dancer didn't even look to see if he'd finished the man off, simply turning tail and melting into the forest edge. It had been years since he had run for his life, and he had been much younger then. The forest flew by him in a blur, his poor eyesight forcing him to approximate every step. After running for over ten minutes, Dancer slowed to a halt, bending over and gasping for air. He threw his pack against a nearby tree, and caught his breath. That had been too close. "Thank Akkan" he mumbled, reaching for his pack. He blinked, staring the large tear running though one of the front pockets. "No," he tore though his pack, hoping it had been in a different pocket, "I don't, I don't have another copy, No...."

---

Sitting in the carriage, Eva remained sheltered from the chaos of battle just outside. After a few minutes the scene became quiet. A guard approached the window and looked at Eva.

"Tha travela has escaped, Your Eminence," disappointment covered the guard's face, "but we fou'd tis book, dropped by tha travela, me thinks."

Eva took the book with interest and dismissed the guard. With interest the Grandmistress opened the book to the first page as the carriage began moving.

---

End of the roleplay. It took a long time, and more could have been explored, but I think the basic goal was accomplished.

Concluding two RPs, players left the region and the RP at this point.

---

As the ribs are waved in her face she smiles and reaches to take them in her gauntlets hand. "Thank you. These look very good. " She rips a chunk off with her teeth as delicate as you can which with ribs isn't very. "It is good to find a kind ally." She splits a rib off and offers to Alyssa,"Imperatrix you should try this'

---

Alyssa stared at Dustiria with concern and some confusion. Glancing over the rest of the nobles assembled, most were staring off into the braziers that lit the room or were quietly sipping wine and fiddling with quills. She realized she had been the only one speaking for nearly half an hour.

Alyssa sighed, the hour was growing late, and the other nobles seemed disinterested at best.

"We'll adjourn this meeting, I apologise for taking up more of your time. Please enjoy your suppers and evenings, we'll begin our operations at sunrise tomorrow."

The others began to get out of their seats as Alyssa turned to Dustiria. "My apologies my lady, I still have many preparations to make. I will eat later"

Aly knew that probably wasn't likely, her nights were late of late and her eating habits were sporadic. Still she did not want to concern the other girl with that. Dustiria was dutiful enough, the last thing Alyssa needed was to worry her knights. They looked up to her and saw their leader. All Aly saw when she looked in the glass was a girl. A very tired girl. She shook her head as she excused herself.

As some of the nobles left, others milled about, including the Thegn who had turned his attention back to his dinner. Grimacing as he ate sloppily, she remembered something. Taking a glance at the notes she had left by the map on the table she called out to those remaining in the room.

"If Sir... Christopher is still here I should like to speak with him."

The continuation of the meeting between Sydgard and Perdan as the forces moved into the neighboring region of Brive. With the region being rogue and Perdan beginning their takeover of the region, the southern nobles met to discuss what they would do in the region...

(This is on going...)

---

Cradled upon the largest hill in the region of Brive, the Great Lord's Manor towered above the primary village. This manor was constructed decades ago, during the Third Age, by Sangue Raiva. The Butcher of Perdan, as Sangue called himself, was the Lord of Brive for many years prior to becoming the King of Perdan. During Sangue's time as Lord of Brive, there were often rumors of nefarious dealings in this manor. Missing people would often be said to have been taken here to visit Sangue before their disappearance. Though none of these rumors were ever confirmed, the locals still believed that the many lost souls haunted these halls.

Ghosts never bothered Igor Foote, Thegn of Sydgard, for he did not believe in them. Some invisible person staying around after they have died? What a silly notion, Igor had never seen one and if he didn't see it, then it didn't exist. Others though, who were now here in the Great Hall of the Lord's Manor, may have found the setting unnerving. All of the nobles currently in Brive were invited to this Great Hall in order to celebrate the recent victories and discuss the future. Igor had no patience for discussion and chose to get right to the eating.

While most in Brive were busy taking this Manor away from the rogue man who called himself the King of Brive, Igor and his men were preoccupied with confiscating local farm animals. Now that the animals were freshly slaughtered and cooked, Igor enjoyed the spoils of conquest. As one noble spoke to all present, Igor viciously bit and tore the meat that clung to the hog ribs in front of him. The smacking sounds of him chewing with his mouth open could easily be heard by all who were at the table at the head of the room. Igor glanced over to his right at the large windows to his side, the sunlight pouring in through the freshly cleaned glass. After swallowing the mouthful of meat Igor took another massive bite as he was completely oblivious to the conversation.

---

Alyssa had called a meeting of the nobles to prepare them for the takeover in Brive.  She had protested the venue's selection as the army's headquarters in the region, but it was in the most convenient spot.  Hesitant due to her familiarity with the manor's bloody history and the unsavory rumors surrounding it, she eventually relented.  The nobles met in the hall, a large map of the region and all its rivers, hamlets, and villages spread out on the table.

"Lord Durnik, please ensure the scouts keep coming in from the border regions we must..."  Alyssa shook her head, distracted by the sound of loud chewing from several places down the table.  Ignoring it, she continued.  "we must ensure we have an eye on their forces.  We cannot allow ourselves to b taken by surprise."  At the sound of a bone clattering across the stone floor, Alyssa turned to the big bald man sitting further down the table smacking his lips as he chewed.  She waited for him to finish before she continued.

"Lady Dustiria," Alyssa said turning to the red-haired woman on her left.  "please take the Noire Cavalry and follow the river up to"  sllluurrrrrpppppppp gulp.

She stopped again, glaring at Igor as he gulped wine loudly out of a jeweled goblet in the middle of her sentence.

She bit the inside of her lip in consternation as the big bald man took another bite of the meat in front of him, a big splotch of grease falling from his fingers to the map, where it landed in a small puddle smearing the ink.

---

She listens to Alyssa as the Imperatrix tries to give her orders and covers a smile as she gets distracted by Igor.

---

An eerie silence befell the room as a glob of grease soaked into the map of Brive. Igor swallowed the mouthful of meat and glanced around at the others to see all were looking towards him. Unsure of why everyone was quiet, Igor thought about the matter at hand. What were they talking about? He wasn't paying attention and didn't know. Taking is best guess he decided to pretend like he was following along.

"Igor agree with Alys...sa," he said prior to wiping his mouth with his hand, leaving behind even more grease in his unkempt beard, "Igor think that Igor Men go take lake." Igor started tapping the blob of grease on the map, mistaking it for a lake that didn't exist. Noticing the moisture on his finger, Igor decided to not let the grease go to waste. Igor's eyes widened and watered as the bitter ink filled his mouth. Shaking his head vigorously he attempted to rid himself of the horrendous taste. With this failure Igor's contorted expression turned towards his goblet. After hastily emptying the cup Igor slammed it back on the table and let out a burp. Smacking his lips, Igor was satisfied now that the flavor of ink dissipated.

Igor looked around at the others who seemed to still be glaring at him. Wondering if others wanted food too, Igor checked to see how much food he had left. There was still a large plate full and more on the way if needed. Plenty to go around surely! Igor wasn't sure who it was to his left but the next person was a red-haired lady. Thin she was and definitely in need of a meal. Igor tore apart a few ribs with his meaty hands sending more grease onto the map.

"Red Hair Lady want some Igor Food?" he asked with a smile as he waved the hunk of pork in front of her, "rib tasty, make Red Hair Lady happy. Igor no mind, Igor share." Igor continued to reach with his thick hair army across the front of another noble in order to wave this chunk of ribs in the face of Dustiria.

The initial meeting between Igor Foote and some other nobles from Perdan in Perdan Mines. There was tension between the two sides, Sydgard and Perdan, which could only be resolved in one of two ways: battle or concession.

----

Clop-clop-clop ...huff huff huff... clop-clop-clop

The sounds of Igor and his 79 infantrymen made their way done the dusty dirt road in Dimwood, heading towards Perdan Mines. With the great gift of coconuts from Eros Harte, they all rode their pretend horses only occasionally stopping for Igor to catch his breath. No sounds emanated from the forest just to the west of the road. Only the sound of coconuts and heavy breathing with the occasional giggle could be heard during the still of this moonless night.

Clop-clop-clop hehehehe clop-clop-clop ...huff huff huff... clop-clop-clop

---

Igor and his men clopped through the desolate westernmost part of Perdan Mines. Fresh sea breeze gently brushed against the naked soldiers skin, fading as the convoy moved further and further from the coast. Breaking the horizon, the sun began drying the morning dew. Occasional marble columns and fragmented statues were passed by. The origins of these historical ruins were unknown to even the most educated scholar. These fragments of the past came from a time even older than Perdan itself. Bringing the convoy to a halt, Igor pretended to dismount a horse and sat down at the side of the road. Igor didn't even notice the wet grass gracing his sweaty and bare hindquarters. The long trip to the Perdanese camps at the center of the mines would take most of the morning. Without any letter to the Perdanese of his intention, Igor's arrival was sure to surprise a few.

---

Igor did not have to wait long. The region was apparently teeming with Perdanese troops and very soon his company was spotted by local scouts. At noon he heard hooves approaching from over the hill. A large contingent of men clad in shining steel was approaching the travellers.

In front of them rode an average looking man in his middling years bearing a crown of gold on his head. He was clad in excellently forged blued armor sporting a roaring lion head on its chestpiece. Although he did not look particularly big and powerful, he did have an air of veteran warrior about him and his eyes were intent and focused akin to a preying falcon. This had to be Kay, the king of Perdan himself.

His train consisted mostly of foot soldiers but at his side rode several other noble warriors of Perdan. Black Lion banners were flanked by sigils of Perdanese lords and knights: wild cats, wolves, horses, green mountains, magical beasts, but mostly birds of prey of all types.

Kay scanned the men camping on this side of a hill. He knew immediately they were Sydgardian reavers. But who led the company? He noticed crescent moon symbols. Was that Eros? No, he remember Eros' face very well. This must be one of his close retainers.

Kay raised his hand, prompting his men to stop, and rode toward the strangers' leader now only accompanied by his noble companions. The group of riders approached close enough for a calm conversation and stopped, looking down on Igor. It appeared like the king was not going to be the first to speak, he expected some introductions and explanations first.

---

Riding alongside her charge she looks curious as they follow the king to the strange company and the naked man. Her pale cheeks take on a reddish hue as she quickly looks away and turns towards the woman in the white cloak she rides protective next to. She raises one eyebrow and looks questioningly at the Imperatrix.

---

Multiple banners pointed up towards the morning sun as they rose above the horizon. With blinding rays of light, the Sydgardian horde couldn't make out who were approaching them. Igor yelled out for the convoy to halt as the banners came closer. Slowly the Perdanese emblem became decipherable. Still Igor was at unease. These were allies and they should know about certain customs in Sydgard.

Separating from the pack of soldiers, a small band of nobles rode in closer to Igor and his men. The horse hooves tightly packed the dirt road as the air stiffened. Unnoticed by Igor was a golden crown glistening upon the head of the noble at the center of the Perdanese envoy.

"Hoof Hoof," Igor yelled as the allies drew in close, "Igor Men, shield wall!"

Hastily all seventy-nine naked axe men formed a wall of shields behind Igor. The naked Sydgardian noble stepped back a couple paces, drawing in close to the shields. Igor's russet eyes burned with fury, embolden by the presence of his axemen.

The Perdanese came to a halt and Igor began pacing back and forth. A young dame blushed as she looked away from the Sydgardians. Igor didn't pay attention her, his focus was on a much more serious matter.

"Hoof hoof bad. Igor hate hoof hoof. Igor kill hoof hoof!" He roared and pulled out his Ancient Hammer of the Mother which was strung across his back. "Hoof hoof go! Igor hate hoof hoof. Igor Men kill hoof hoof!"

Igor's soldiers began banging their axes on their shields and chanting, "hoof hoof go, hoof hoof die!"

Tightening his grip on the robust war hammer, Igor prepared for a potential fight.
"Hoof hoof bad. Igor hate hoof hoof. Igor kill hoof hoof," Igor, seemingly stuck in a loop, repeated himself amidst the soldier chants, "hoof hoof go! Igor hate hoof hoof. Igor Men kill hoof hoof!"

---

The Perdanese ranks quickly stopped at the imposing shield wall in front of them. The horses neighed and stomped the ground nervously. Foot soldiers, confused, scurried for their weapons as the naked man shouted nigh incoherently, his accent thick and his words simple.

Alyssa grimaced at the naked man leading the force before her army, his appearance and nudity somewhat disturbing. In the ramblings of the mad soldier, she recognized a few words.

"Igor hate Hoof Hoof!"

The name was familiar and the meter of his speech was indicative. Alyssa considered the man for a moment while Lady Dustiria looked at her and the King attempted to regroup the army. Then it clicked.

Quickly Aly dismounted, The clank of her sabatons on the cobblestone road drowned out by the bustle of the startled army. Saying nothing she stepped towards the shield wall and the large naked man who led them. Graham reached over to grab Starlight's reins and calm her.

Alyssa stepped up towards the naked men before her. Half out of an attempt at modesty, and half out of the man's form somewhat disturbing her, Alyssa averted her gaze as she called to the man.

"Thegn of Sydgard. The armies of Perdan are not your enemies. I shall order the horses to give you a wide berth, if it will prevent bloodshed. But if you draw upon our King on our honour we shall defend him to the last. What say you Thegn of South?"

---

A breeze starting rolling through the plains, shifting the banners held by the occasional soldier in Igor's retinue. Every other banner bore the emblem of Sydgard with the others baring the Raven. The Raven was seen as the bird of blood, corpses and battle in Sydgard which made it a common icon on the battlefield. A young dame had dismounted her horse and came in closer to Igor. The Thegn of Sydgard held up a hand, bringing the chanting soldiers to complete silence.

"Thegn of Sydgard," the unknown lady spoke without looking at Igor, "the armies of Perdan are not your enemies. I shall order the horses to give you a wide berth, if it will prevent bloodshed. But if you draw upon our King on our honour we shall defend him to the last. What say you Thegn of South?"

Igor stopped his pacing and looked at the dame while trying to avoid looking at those frightful steeds. Tilting his head slightly he studied her the best he could. There was some bravery in approaching the shield wall but yet she averted her gaze. Igor grunted in dissatisfaction and thought about her words. The mere imagining of the horses giving a bloody birth to a foal caused his skin to crawl. Shaking off the nightmarish day dream, Igor's grip on his hammer slightly loosened.

"Hoof hoof go," Igor's responded with a husky voice, "or Igor kill hoof hoof. Igor no like hoof hoof. No lady hoof hoof, no king hoof hoof. All hoof hoof bad. Igor only like fake hoof hoof. "

---

Alyssa glanced towards the Thegn to meet his eyes, her chin tilted upwards, settling just above his gaze in order to avoid the unpleasant sight of his nudity in her periphery.  With one hand on her blade, and the other behind her back in a dignified stance she called to the army behind her.

"Steer the horses off the road." She commanded.  "Allow our allies to pass unimpeded."

A beat passed while the soldiers looked at each other, finally having recovered from the initial confusion.  Without looking away from the Thegn, she heard a voice from behind, unsure of whose it was echo her orders.  "You heard the Imperatrix, move your arses!"

Suddenly the army began to come to life.  Slowly the men led their horse towards the side of the road, captains directing the horses and carts far back off the roadside.  As the army began to shift, Alyssa held her gaze just above Igor's eyes, her posture unmoving.  After several minutes, the Perdanese army had moved off the road, not a horse remained in the way.

Alyssa granted a brief respectful bow to the Sydgardians, turning her head to the side as she did so to avert her gaze from Igor's nudity.

Returning to attention she spoke once more.  "Welcome to Perdan, Thegn of Sydgard."

---

Igor and the Sydgardians stood still, not reacting to the Perdanese commander's bow.

"Welcome to Perdan," she said,  "Thegn of Sydgard."

Igor was still puffed up from the potential battle, a scowl still resting upon his face. "Purr Dan many hoof hoof," he said raucously, "Igor no like hoof hoof."

Turning back towards the Sydgardian soldiers, Igor gave the order to stand down. With great disappointment the tense men begrudgingly broke the shield wall and put away their weapons. As the southern soldiers went back to a traveling column, Igor turned back towards the fair-haired dame.

"Igor," he placed a hand on his chest to gesture that he was referring to himself. "What lady name?" Igor asked inattentively as his gaze occasionally drifted towards the distance horses.

---

She watched nervous as Alyssa went fourth to the naked man. Not happy she follows the orders and takes her Calvary off. Warily she watches before dismounting and going to her usual spot behind and to left of the Imperatrix. She nods her head in greeting and stands ready eyes on Igor's eyes.

---

Isana's attention was pulled from the crackling of the lunch fire on the beach to a hubbub some distance away. By the colours they wore it was the Imperatrix's forces, and they were... she squinted hard for a few moments, then looked to her captain for confirmation.

"Heinz, have a look here. What do you suppose is going on? It looks like that shield unit is in the nude!" As he stepped over to her she continued, "On a windy day like today, can you imagine! The Imperatrix is addressing them, perhaps enforcing proper order..." she gestured with her chin to the horses and troops up on the rise in the distance.

Black-haired Heinz straightened up to peer in her pointed direction. The salt wind kicked up off the bay again as they watched, green-and-white tabards twisting about their legs. Heinz pursed his lips a moment then replied, "Ah, no, Milady, I think that's the Thegn and his troops from afar. It's not uncommon to see them, er, ungarbed, in this way."

Isana turned incredulous wide eyes to him, "You're not joking? Hah!" She broke into a brief chuckle before muffling the sound into one fist, merriment apparent on her features. "Ha, oh my. That was something we'd see sometimes in the wildlands of Beluaterra, but I wasn't expecting such a practice to still thrive on such a long-settled continent as this one. Interesting. More to learn I suppose. They certainly look formidable."

Heinz gave a one-shoulder shrug as he turned back to poke at the low lunch fire. "One would have to be. Their shield wall formation has also been lauded in song. The potatoes are ready, Milady; let's eat!"

---

"Alyssa Kingsley, Lady of White Lodge, Imperatrix of Perdan, as it... please the Thegn..." She trailed off, head still turned to the side.  "I must return to my army.  We will see you in Brive..."  Alyssa finished marching quickly off back to her Starlight and the Perdan army, and far away from the uncomfortably shaped brute in front of her.

As she mounted her mare after returning to the army, she caught a glimpse of the backside of the Sydgardian column, as they continued their march.  Alyssa grimaced uncomfortably at the sight.

---

The Imperatrix left the Sydgardians behind, for now, and Igor tried to commit the name and face to memory. "A..Aly...Alys..sa," he muttered a few times before signalling the soldiers to begin their march. Every other soldier gathered up their coconuts, gifts from the Jarl, and began trotting along on their "fake hoof hoof" towards Brive. clop-clop clop-clop

Lavitz nodded thoughtfully, "Erheas is probably the worst Grand Templar I have ever witnessed. What General is terrified of fighting? Sings songs of peace? I guess one who has no idea what he is doing... However, we play with the cards the Veiled Goddess deals us..."

He grunted to himself, and carried on, "Even if I desired the throne, which I don't, I have been away too long, you are right. And of those who knew me, I have had altercations with many of them. I agree that Ferdinand is a wise choice to campaign in favor."

He held up a hand, "However, what of this Antonia? Is she not a Templar? I was under the impression she has made a name for herself as a military commander. Why do we need to control her? Perhaps, we just need to unleash her..."

Vahanian tented his fingers as he puffed on his pipe, his deep hazel eyes shone intelligently as he considered what his friend had just said. "Perhaps controlled wasn't the best word. I meant that I'm not convinced Antonia is fully onboard with what must be done in Nova.." Vahanian sipped at his tea before saying "Unleashing her could be useful, but train a fox to defend the chicken coop and eventually the fox kills a chicken or two..."

Vahanian puffed on his pipe some more before turning back to Ferdinand and saying "Would you consider the throne?"

The conversion turned sour rather quickly for Ferdinand as he watched as the man he considered more of a father than his own flesh and blood talk with such anger.

Controlled.

That word stung for Ferdinand. He saw past the insinuation that Vahanian could control Ferdinand, that was not he meant. He meant influence for the Templar Order. Although, the concept still concerned him. The elder Templar had gone through such heartache the last few weeks with the Oracle, the one whom was not named and now Jessica - he has been drained of compassion. Despite how much Ferdinand could reason in his own mind for the choice of words, the fact that the rulership of Veiled Goddess' Theocracy was referred to a throne in such a way was not one that Ferdinand could ignore.

Decision.

He was not offended by the venom in Vahanian's tongue as he discussed his decision to step down, he was more disappointed. He knew the trauma that he had suffered but was not satisfied.
That did not matter to Ferdinand, faith and devotion were more important. This was why he took the time to become one with the Heralds and discover himself once again. It was to understand what faith was and the scripture of Obeah once again as he had walked off his true path.

Unleash.

Throughout his life in Obeah's heaven, the Marshal was outspoken but loyal to the faith without doubt. Unorthodox in behaviour perhaps, uncertainty in ruling style but completely loyal and devout to the Oracle. It is why she was chosen to be the Defender of the Faith - she is not to be unleashed. It was not lost to Ferdinand that Antonia supported his generalship without fault where she could of fought a very tight election. Yet, she chose not to. Yet, something was missing from current events and he needed to find out one day soon.

So consumed in his own thoughts that Ferdinand didn't realise how long he had been silent for. Only when he looked to Vahanian's face did he realise truly what he insinuated Ferdinand to do did the gravity dawn on him.

The anger swelled but was only just kept at bay.

"Vahanian. I serve Obeah first and foremost and always shall. As my mentor you have taught me many things and I am only whom I am today because of you. Yet, how you make the insinuation that Obeah's heaven in the mortal realm is a throne to be competed over like squabbling children over their father's throne is not right. Her sanctuary is to not be tempered nor shamed in such a way."

Taking a moment to formulate his next sentence, Ferdinand adjusted the Grehkian armour to enable slightly more relaxed posture:

"No, I have not desired the throne. I did not desire the Grand Templar title all the same. I do what I must for the Veiled Goddess and how I can best serve her. My path in this realm has been made through my military career so far. While perhaps another should become the next Grand Templar, which I see great promise within, leading a realm through diplomacy is another entity. I still struggle with the reforms of the Grandmistress where the Ruler is not a Grand Herald. While I have experience as a Herald, something like this is a decision that should not be made lightly. What would you see my possible candidacy achieve for the election and upon success for Obeah?"

Vahanian had to quell the anger that flared in him when Ferdinand responded. It took all his focus to keep his emotion in check, he had to keep reminding himself that he had trained Ferdinand, so if he was to blame anyone for Ferdinand's world views, it should be himself.

Try as he might, he could not quell all the emotion, before he spoke a dangerous look flared through his eye. "Aye I trained you, for many years. But you're foolish if you think Obeah's "haven in the mortal realm", as you put it, is a throne, a title, a crown, a realm. It isn't. It's the faithful and the Oracle. Neither of which can be lead, only guided. So if to guide us towards the right path, the path that honors the death of my.... of Stheno.. and of Jessica, and every other faithful that has given their lives for the Veiled Goddess, if that path requires us to control, influence, or seize a throne, a title, a crown, a realm, then so be it. That is a sacrifice I am willing to make, and will make gladly and without question. If you're not secure enough in your faith to do what must be done then get out." Vahanian paused for a long while before continuing.

"But if you decide to stay, then make that decision. Stop questioning yourself and your faith. Nothing productive ever comes from wondering if this is Obeah's path for you. If it isn't Her path for you, you'd know, and you wouldn't be on it."

He sat back in his chair, puffed on his pipe and said "Make a decision, son."

The one word that he didn't expect but never dared to assume. The Executor of the Templar had lived through Daimon invasions, lost his family, the sacrifices he had made all for the faith. Yet, he was able to rise above all for his cause and offer a bond that not even his own blood offered him willingly. Ferdinand was taken aback in silence. Had he made sacrifice in his life? True sacrifice? Ferdinand couldn't attribute such a action. He couldn't imagine the pain the Duke lived through. Looking at Vahanian behind the smoke of his pipe, Ferdinand realised something rather pivotal in his aged eyes:

"Decadence. We have fallen into decadence."

It was the crushing realisation that was almost like the first light at daybreak:

"We have forgotten what it means to sacrifice, to pledge service to the faith and to commit to our beliefs. It is through her Theocracy that her word is spread and recongised as the One True Faith above all else..."
After a few more moments, Ferdinand continued with a steel in his voice:
"Is this all that we can give to Obeah? Is this all her Theocracy can achieve?"

As Ferdinand finished and returned to his seat after the exclamation of emotion, the question hanged in the air for some time but all three men knew the answer. There was focus in Ferdinand's eye and conviction in his grip now that was lost for some time. Between the three men that night, plans were made for the Templar Order and beyond...

Updating with all the RPs that have happened. The initial post has been updated as well due to missing a couple RPs the first time.

---

"While I am one of the first to agree with you and purge the heretic, the previous negotiations have cited that the Light of Obeah would assist in the destruction of the Unholy Order. Furthermore, while Nova was a difficult reality to live with, it is the Light of Obeah we have issue with, not Nova. If the Light and Nova are the same or they refuse to support the war against the Unholy Order, that changes things."

Ferdinand had to hold back on his impulse to agree with the first Templar. He would much rather see the Light stuffed out. Yet, he wanted to explore the man's thought process.

Lavitz listened while Ferdinand spoke.

"While I am one of the first to agree with you and purge the heretic, the previous negotiations have cited that the Light of Obeah would assist in the destruction of the Unholy Order. Furthermore, while Nova was a difficult reality to live with, it is the Light of Obeah we have issue with, not Nova. If the Light and Nova are the same or they refuse to support the war against the Unholy Order, that changes things."

Lavitz replied, "I ask you this, friend. Is the Light evil in the eyes of the Heralds? Of course it is. It is a mockery of our church. Do you think that the Veiled Goddess decided an offshoot was required and didn't bother to tell any of us?" he waved his arms emphatically, "No, they are a heretical cell, either trying to use the word of Obeah for financial gain or something more sinister. Just because they claim they will go to war with this Mordok cult means nothing. The enemy of my enemy is not automatically my friend. The simple truth is, lately, too much grey has been muddled into a very black and white subject. Too many people talk about all the reasons we can't enforce the will of Obeah, we can't purge heretics, we can't destroy evil."

He took a sip of water.

"Just look at Lux Nova. They harbour and allow an evil religion to grow. They harbour apostates to the true faith. Family members of heretics," Lavitz raised an eyebrow at Ferdinand, "Lux Nova is most definitely not our friends."

Ferdinand thought deeply about the logic of the First Templar, it was quite similar to his own. He knew that the Light of Obeah needed to be snuffed out. Yet, why was he holding back?

"There is merit in your words Sir Lavitz, alot what you say is true. I believed that it was the Inquisition that operated in the shades of grey, not the Templar. There is only the one true faith and that is the worship of Obeah as told by her prophet the Oracle."

It was then that Ferdinand recalled a passage from his studies as a Herald and chose to speak aloud:

"Obeah is not the only divinity. However, she is the only one that saw to deliver mankind away from evil tyranny and suffering of the Netherworld. Mankind should be grateful for her intervention, we are sheltered in her mercy. It is only in her piercing through the veil that we can all achieve salvation on the mortal plain. No other divinity shall save them."

Pausing for a moment, Ferdinand knew what judgement he had made in his mind. Was it his authority to do so?

No.

Yet, it is in zeal that he should act, like the once Grand Templar used to:

"It is the Templar duty to save those whom are faithful to Obeah. These once faithful are adulterous to Obeah - they must confess their sole devotion and come to her bosom or by the Templar's sword they shall burn."

"The truth." Vahanian echoed. Turning the phrase over in his mouth before releasing it. He crossed one leg over the other and took a deep breath, before exhaling and flicking his eyes around Eva's face.

"Careful what you ask for, Grandmistress, the truth can be sharper than you think." He puffed on his pipe and said "I buried her, in a place she would have liked, so that her body may not be used as a tool for a grandiose display of extravagance. I think she'd have hated that display." Eva looked as if she were about to say something when Vahanian continued.

"If you're looking for more truth, here it is. She deserved death. As do all heretics, and apostates. And before you quote to me scripture and passages proclaiming all life is sacred, I've been here a lot longer than you, I've studied the faith a lot longer than you. What the scriptures don't tell you, is this. All life is sacred until it isn't. Straying from the Veiled Goddess's light happens, and can be tolerated and corrected. We're human after all. Abandoning that light for something.. else. Cannot be tolerated. Will not be tolerated."

"You command the Heralds, as the Oracle wished, and I respect that and you for it, but there has always been a separation of the three pillars, Templar, Inquisitor, and Herald, the have a symbiotic relationship, helping each other when the time comes, but they exist within their own boundaries and have their own tenants... And Grandmistress.. I AM the Templar, and we're going to do what we do best. Hunt. If you've not the stomach for the bloodshed that is to come, step down now and crawl into a hole. Because I promise you this, more blood will be spilled, and I will be the one spilling it."

"...If you've not the stomach for the bloodshed that is to come, step down now and crawl into a hole. Because I promise you this, more blood will be spilled, and I will be the one spilling it." Vahanian finished his speech and gave Eva the chance to respond.

Though the frown on Eva's face remained, the anger diminished some as Vahanian finished. There was a hard truth alluded to at the end of his response and Eva couldn't deny it. Conflict, violence, bloodshed, these were never enjoyable to her and she always tried to avoid them. But right here, right now, there was no chance of avoiding conflict.

"Who does and does not die," Eva began with a lingering tinge of anger in her voice, "is not your decision to make. You have been here a long time, longer than myself that is certainly true. With such tenure you should know full well that this triumvirate is led by the Heralds, by the Church. If you go against what has been decided by the Church then I will have no choice but to excommunicate you. Along with excommunication, I will give the order to the Grand Inquisitor to banish you from the Sacred Realm. Knowing the relationship between the Inquisition and the Templars, this order will be followed with great joy."

After a moment of silence, Eva stood up from the couch. "We should get some rest," she continued with the stern tone, "we will have a long day ahead of us. If Jessica was...corrupted, then the proper rituals have to be performed."

Vahanian tented his fingers as Eva replied, though her response made him furious he'd mastered control over his emotions long ago. Not even a flicker of annoyance spread across his face. Eva suggested getting rest and Vahanian nodded. Before he stood to depart he said

"Grandmistress.." He paused for a moment as if considering an action before continuing on "Since I swore my allegiance to the Oracle all those years ago, every action I've ever taken has been for the Church. I've no reason nor desire to see the triumvirate voided or ignored. However, I've just killed the ruler of Lux Nova, if you think they're going to lie down and take that, then you've far more faith in irrational men and women behaving rationally than I. Furthermore, I do not wish for war with Nova. However, if they protect or harbor the heathen sect of the faith that you yourself declared evil, how can we not wage war, spill a little blood now to avoid genocide later.."

He stood and bowed his head. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll take some of the best advice I've received today and get some rest. I'll send your man back to you with haste. Do enjoy your stay with us here."

He turned to leave after Eva provided her farewell and thanked him for his hospitality. As he reached the door. He turned and said "Oh and Grandmistress. That comment you made about excommunicating me, if it came to it. You should know, if you ever did decide that course of action was what was needed, you'd be effectively gutting the Sacred Realm. Remember. I AM the Templar... Just some food for thought." Vahanian said with a wolfish smile. Without waiting for Eva to respond he left, as he walked through the halls he passed Deacon Roberts who was accompanied by two guards of Eva's. Vahanian recognized them both as the Paladins he'd selected and trained for Rania's personal guard. He nodded to them both who in kind nodded back. He said to the Deacon "Your master awaits.." Deacon Roberts, clearly didn't care for Vahanian and so he scurried along towards Eva's room. Vahanian was tempted to click his tongue against the roof of his mouth, like one might do when commanding a dog or horse, but decided against it. For now.

Every fiber of her being remained tense in the process of refraining from reacting to Vahanian. With the closing of the door, Eva instantly relaxed with a sigh. Eva made her way towards the open window, smoothing out her white vestments. Soft stitching glided underneath the palms of her hands. Cool night air drifted through the opening and bled through her thin garments. Outside a pair of guards chatted as they walked by on their patrol. The Grandmistress watched them closely as one laughed at what the other was saying. There was no tension out there, no real worries. Yet beyond the manor there were nobles on edge at the news of the Sacred Obia'Syela possibly migrating. Inside the manor seemed to be even worse. Here there was plotting of war in one room and confrontation between the two sides, against war and for war, in another room. This room.

As Deacon Robert entered the room, Eva closed the window previously opened by Vahanian. In the deacon's hand was the piece of information that Eva was waiting for. Inside that scroll would be the truth or more precisely, a truth.

"Your Holiness," Deacon Robert spoke softly as he bowed.

Eva waited for the guard to finish closing the door but she hadn't the patience for more than that. She took the scroll from Robert and hastily broke the seal. Plenty of words were skipped over, they were mere formalities with little substance. The Grandmistress didn't care about the fluff, her only interest was the result. Her emerald eyes drifted up to the Deacon as she finished the letter. Frustration furled the Grandmistress' brow as the paper crumbled between her hands.

"and?" quietly the Deacon asked.

Drifting back to the sofa without responding, Eva slid down onto the soft cushions, gazing towards the unstained wooden chair, worn with time. Vahanian had sat there just minutes ago as the two confronted each other in the initial skirmish of a political war. Now the barren chair bore no answers. "Nothing," she muttered, "there's nothing."

Instantly Deacon Robert relaxed. "If he isn't planning a rebellion then that is good news, no?"

"We have a long day tomorrow, you should go get some sleep." Eva didn't budge.

"Have a good night, Your Holiness," Robert said with bow before departing.

Eva knew that this truth was not the one she needed. Vahanian wasn't himself, he was reserved and patient like usual. There was something going on, the only question was what. Though there would be no answers tonight, and sleep was desired, it would be an uneasy and sleepless night in this part of the manor.

Vahanian had little time to think about his conversation with Eva before he arrived at the study where he'd left Ferdinand and Lavitz. He took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside.

Conversation didn't stop as he walked to his chair and pulled out his pipe before stuffing tobacco into it once more and lighting it. He poured himself another cup of tea, and stared at the wall. He replayed the conversation he'd had with Eva, thinking through it entirely. Before his eyes seemed to re-focus in the present and he said abruptly. "We need to control the throne." He continued on, without much thought to the silence that pervaded the room now.

"I don't necessarily mean we kill Eva.. Mostly because I doubt we'd be successful at it, or that we'd get away with it.. No, we need a claim on the Throne that cannot be disputed. I've alienated too many to win the election, Lavitz isn't well known enough among the younger nobles, I'm not convinced Antonia can be controlled, especially after I've killed Jessica." Vahanian's gaze flicked over to Ferdinand who was listening to Vahanian's words intently. "That leaves you, my friend. Win this election, and we can move past your... decision-" Vahanian nearly spat the word as if it were poison. "-to hand over the Grand Templar seat to that frustratingly dull and loathsome Duke." Vahanian once again seemed to have a vile taste in his mouth after the word duke. His disdain for Erheas was clear.

The introduction to the realm:

Twenty-two messengers stood at attention in front of Sir Smelly Semeli Foote. Semeli paced back and forth looking over the shoddy men and women. Toothless, mangy, BBQ lip stains, cleft lips, nip slips, tangy scent, unkempt, fingerless, extra fingers, missing toes, tales of woes, all sorts could be found. The group was a depressing rainbow, all rain, no color nor bow. Semeli quit inspecting the messengers, he didn't know what he was looking for anyhow.

"You twenty-two shall go tell all the nobles of my arrival. Tell them lords that my services are available to those interested and I must be courted! I am not one who will accept a simple wam bam thank ya ma'am, there must be at least some peasant bowling or other festivity. And tell the knights they are not worthy of the services of the SHH."

"services of tha wha?" a mangy mutt asked.

"SHH" Semeli answered with haste.

"Services of the wha?" the mangy mutt whispered this time.

Semeli moved in closer, "what?"

"Yes, what."

Semeli was confused, couldn't quite put together what just happened and that was saying something, Semeli was a phenomenal at peasant jig-saw puzzles after all. "Exactly," Semeli continued his pacing, "now where was I, oh yes, tell those inferior chumps they do not deserve the fighting SHH."

"The what?" a leper with the voice of a leopard asked.

"Not this again," Semeli rolled his eyes.

"The Screeching Horse..." Semeli's lov...good friend and squire, Daron, began to say quite loudly.

"NOOOO!!!" Semeli yelled but it was too late.

"Harpies," Daron finished his sentence with a big smile.

A horrendous screech came out of no where, leaving all the messenger looking around for where the piercing sound was coming from.

"SHUT UP!" Semeli yelled to no effect, "SHUT UP DAMN YOU! SHUT UP!" Still the annoying hags continued their infernal racket. Semeli decided to do his best librarian impression, skipping the white wig and wrinkle cream this time, "SHHHH!!"

To the relief of everyone in the city of Outer Tilog the Screeching Horse Harpies SHH'ed.

"Why do you always do that Daron? Nevermind, no time to waste. Send these Wall-Market messengers out to the nobles with me message. If they fail or are saved from their wretched addiction to breathing then go buy some more at Wall-Market." Semeli walked off to go 'visit' with the Screaming Horse Harpies.

SSSSCCCCCREEEEEEEEEE

SHH

----

After some time of no one offering Semeli an estate, Semeli decided to remind everyone.

Semeli was sitting in his camp outside of Outer Tilog City. Without an estate Semeli took to camping outside if the main population areas to minimize costs.

"Daron," Semeli said as he looked through reports of where vacant estates were, "send out the messengers to the lords. They should be reminded that we are without an estate and are looking for a lord interested in our services."

Darin nodded and left the tent in order to relay the message to the messengers who would relay the message to the messege-receiver. It was a remarkably simple pyramid unlike the Outer Tilogian Triangular Eye Refiguring, the giant pyramid of eyes from those who have read the symbols of illegality. The OTTER was a popular site within the Horrid Amusing Pet Park-Yard. Often children would pester their parents to go see the Happy Otter. Semeli even thought about going once or twice himself.

----

Finally someone offered Semeli an estate so he accepted the offer and had some fun with the messenger who read the letter to Semeli.

"Go send a messenger to tell Lord Vladamire that I shall accept his offer of the Cathedral of Abysmal Horror and shall swear an oath of fealty to him. And remember," Semeli flung an eye with his spoon across the tent, hitting Daron, "I got my eye on you."

Daron grinned, "I see what you did there."

Semeli laughed as he loaded Vladmire's messenger's other eye on the spoon and sent it towards Daron. With a quick swat of the hand Daron cast the eye away before leaving the tent to fetch a messenger.

Once again, he struggled to control his temper. Eva was young, too young to have seen the horrors of the last Invasion. Scents of blood and fire came to him, nothing but old memories filling his nostrils. Screams in the darkness, eldritch Lords standing tall, backlit by the fires of burning cities, slaughter on a scale not seen for many years now. Lord Jomorosh, heading his infernal hordes against the armies of Shattered Vales, tearing both soldiers and nobles in twine. Dancer's sword, wet with blood. The smell of burning bodies.

What you do matters, Dan, which path will you seek?"

Snapping out of his memories, Dancer considered his words carefully, grin still plastered across his face.

"The path I seek? Grandmistress, how forward of you." His milky eyes locked on hers, smile unable to keep the chill out of his voice. "You are right, prayer has little to do with the power of the Soul. True power is intrinsic to each and every one of us, and it is our duty in life to wield that power responsibly." He paused before continuing, eyes flickering for a second to the forest edge. "Daishi believers think we are to use our power to assist some greater beings in the sky, helping these armored gods achieve their ends. Mordok believers think they are to use other's power to feed an eldritch being, sating it. Your Heralds put their power in your Veiled Goddess,  standing beside her in the fight against the Netherworld. All of you have massive followings, spanning huge swathes of land. Tell me, Grand Herald, why are you more right then Daishi? Mordok? What makes you think you will be the one to stop the Invasions?"

Eva didn't take her eyes off Dancer as he discussed the different faiths of the land and asked about why one one was superior to the other. Erick, the captain of the Royal Guard, was growing impatient. Before a reply could be given, Erick's chiseled face leaned in to whisper in the Grandmistress' ear. "Your Eminence, something is off with this one, we should take him to the Inquisition and then continue our trip to Jidington."

"You are right Erick," Eva smiled from behind her veil as she spoke loud enough for Dancer to hear, "we are running late as is. My apologies...Dan, but we must take leave." The Grandmistress started her walk back to the carriage.

All the guards drew their weapons and moved towards Dancer. Eva stopped after a few steps in order to turn back towards Dan. "The Veiled Goddess proved Her power by empowering the Oracle during her battle with Akkan in Ete City." Eva called out, "What exactly have the other deities done?"

As the guards drew close to Dancer, activity sprouted in the forest. Leaves crunched and sticks snapped as many feet rampaged across the wooded ground. A guard near the carriage quickly ran to Eva in order to grab her and guide her back to safety.

Ten hours ago...

Eva sat on the edge of the fountain at the center of the magnificent temple in the Holy City of Rines' cloister. With the sun directly overhead, she glided her across the warm water as Deacon Robert informed Eva of the recent news in Grehk. As someone relatively close to the recently reclusive and now departed Oracle, Deacon Robert was unofficially promoted to an advisory role but primarily served as an intermediary between Eva and her servants.

"and there has still been no word from His Grace regarding the...incident." the Deacon concluded his report.

"Where is he now?" Eva asked without looking towards the Deacon.

"His Grace was last seen in Grehk but that was a while ago. His Grace's guards have been loyal to him and have not provided any details regarding His Grace's intentions or movements."

"What of," Eva hesitated before looking back towards Robert," her?"

"She was last seen being carried out from the White Citadel by His Grace. After that, we do not know what happened."

"She deserves a proper funeral," the Grandmistress turned back to the fountain as clouds passed in front of the sun. "Since His Grace will not respond to letters," Eva broke the silence, "I will get the response in person. Ready transport to Grehk immediately."

"Right away, Your Holiness," Robert responded with a bow before quickly leaving the cloister.

Eva looked back at the hastily departing deacon, she was still not comfortable with the phrase "Your Holiness." Every time she heard the phrase it left her uneasy for though it was appropriate, it felt inappropriate. Eva hoped such feelings would pass or perhaps the Oracle would return sooner rather than later, thus removing the discomfort.

----

Present...

After a nine hour trip, the large convoy came to a stop in front of the White Citadel of Grehk. Eva exited her carriage to see the handful of the Duke's guards at entrance. Dozens of soldiers had recently started accompanying the Grandmistress everywhere she went in order to ensure her safety. Many of them were formerly part of the Basilica's guards who were no longer needed after the Oracle's departure. With little light the royal banners could hardly be seen by the faint torch fires.

"Eva Foote," a captain belted out to the gatekeepers, "Vicarius Oraculum, and Grandmistress of the Sacred Obia'Syela, has come to meet with Vahanian Blint, Lord Templar, Duke of Amen Telum, and Margrave of Grehk."

There was no reply but one of the gatekeepers could be seen departing, likely to find out what they were to do with the unannounced visitor. Deacon Robert slowly approached Eva from behind.

"Your Holiness," the Deacon whispered, "what if His Grace doesn't permit entrance?"

Eva looked back with a disapproving look to the Deacon, she knew what he was asking. "Then we will leave," she said to the shadowy face, "peacefully." She had no interest in resorting to violence and even if she did there wasn't enough soldiers here for taking the citadel.

"What if, Obeah forbid, His Grace has gone rogue?" the Deacon continued his anxious questioning, "a meeting inside His Grace's residence could be dangerous."

"Robert, His Grace is not that stupid."

"But what if?"

Eva gave the Deacon a scornful look, "whatever happens, happens. Now cease your babbling."

"Yes, Your Holiness," Robert sheepishly backed away.

Eva looked back towards the Citadel, shaking away the Deacon's infectious anxiety. The gatekeeper finally came back to his post, likely with orders of what the guards were to tell the Grandmistress.

- Meetings with Lavitz and Ferdinand -

Vahanian was about to answer Ferdinand, when a knock sounded. Baldwin entered and shuffled over and whispered in Vahanian's ear. Vahanian looked at him and said "See to it. Let her in, I'll see her after she's settled."

He turned back to his companions and said "The Grandmistress is here. No doubt to inquire after the duel. I must attend to this.." He stood to leave and said "Ferdinand.. we must never let heresy grow. Especially when it is so close to our borders. We must act, and we must be swift. I know you're..conflicted. Speak with Sir Lavitz here. Listen to his stories of the last invasion, and then make up your mind."

With that Vahanian left the two men alone and went to attend to Eva.

The guard returned with an older man, one who had the distinct look of a lifetime of service, military service at that. The man took one look at the Grand Mistress, and cuffed the younger guards. "Open the gates at once!"

The gates rattled open and the older man bowed low saying, "Your Majesty, forgive their ignorance. They are young and prone to mistakes. I am Baldwin, personal aide and Captain of the guard for His Grace. His Grace welcomes you to Grehk and the White Citadel. Rooms and refreshments will be made available to you and your companions. If you'd follow me, I'm sure you're tired after your journey. I will inform the Duke of your arrival."

A short while later

Vahanian was on his way through the halls of the White Citadel towards the rooms that had been made available to Eva and her retainer. He was still wearing his dark blue and black robes, his hair tied back and he wore two daggers on his belt. One at his side, and one on the small of his back. He and Baldwin approached the door to Eva's rooms and he knocked twice and awaited a reply. He heard the sounds of feet shuffling across the heavy carpets and then the door opened and the Deacon's face appeared in the crack. He opened the door wider and permitted Vahanian and Baldwin into the room. Eva sat on one of the sofa's and looked up as he entered.

Vahanian bowed as did Baldwin and he said "Your Grace, what a pleasant surprise, I hope your journey wasn't too harrowing." Eva stood and gave a small curtsy to Vahanian and said "Your Grace, thank you for your hospitality."

Vahanian nodded to Baldwin and said "Thank you, Baldwin, that will be all." Baldwin bowed once more and departed. Eva offered Vahanian a chair and he sat, selecting one by the window so he might smoke without too much of an impact on Eva. The Deacon eyes his daggers warily and Vahanian nearly rolled his eyes. "Oh relax, if I wanted her dead, she'd be dead already. I assume you're here to discuss... The duel." He swallowed the lump that started to form in his throat, and lit his pipe as he looked at Eva.

Eva said nothing on the journey into the White Citadel nor while in the room she would spend the night in. After the Duke came in, the two exchanged the formal greetings and sat together. Eva, still in her white vestments and the priestly veil covering her face, listened to Vahanian address Deacon Robert.

"...I assume you're here to discuss... The duel." Vahanian finished his statement which was now directed at Eva and lit the pipe that seemed to accompany him everywhere.

"Out," she said looking at Deacon Robert.

"Yes, Your Holiness," he hesitantly said with a bow before slowly leaving the room.

Eva watched the door close behind Robert before looking back at the seated Vahanian. Gracefully she removed her veil as he exhaled smoke which rolled out the open window. She did not intend on a formal meeting and hoped that the combination of removing her veil and her soon informal speech patterns would adequately convey this.

"Indeed," Eva said plainly, "I am here about the duel. You did not responded to my written request for information. I hope that this is due to time restraints and not because you have something to hide." Her emerald eyes remained fixed on Vahanian, not to find an exposing expression, he was too experienced to give anything away that easily, but to convey that her full focus was on him and not other matters.

Lavitz and Ferdinand

"Quite the meeting of ex-Grand Templars we have here," Lavitz laughed, "Grandmistress Eva, eh? What are your thoughts of her? I have yet to meet her, in person..."

He leaned forward and tapped the charcoal tabacco from his pipe into an ash tray, and stowed it in his robes. He glanced down as he did and frowned. He should have cleaned himself up and gotten a tunic before coming, but he had really only intended on discussing his counsin's demise, and not planning how to start a multi-national campaign against a cell of heretics.

"Back in my day..." he leaned back and mused, "We were garrisoned in Keffa city. There is a reason the Prophetess made the migration from the north to the Holy City of Rines. There is no sustainability to the north. Eva's desire to move the realm back there is a fools gambit, and has little hope of success."

"Why do you think her and Erheas are opposed to dealing with the heretics right next door to us?"

Vahanian met Eva's gaze with equal intensity for a long while, puffing on his pipe before saying anything. Eventually he said "She warranted death. She was blasphemous and bordering on heresy. But know that I did not take pleasure in it. Beyond that, I don't have much more to say. The letters between Jessica and I, will remain between us."

Vahanian's eyes held Eva's for a while and then he said "What do you hope to get from this conversation?"

Vahanian's eyes held Eva's for a while and then he said "What do you hope to get from this conversation?"

They continued to study each other, looking for a hint, any hint. Vahanian's direct question caught Eva off guard. Though she gave Vahanian a slight smile it could be discerned by the careful observer that she was unamused. For longer than usual she did not blink or change her expression. When the time came to relieve drying eyes she did so with a turn of the head towards the door, resetting her composure in a quick moment.

"The truth," she said with a grin towards the Duke, "that is what I came for." Eva kept her posture straight as she shifted back in her seat, letting her back rest against the cushion of the sofa. No longer with her body shifted towards the Duke, she now somberly faced the door. "It is a shame that such a legacy as Jessica's will be marred by this...drastic change in character," Eva said with a tinge of sorrow before giving Vahanian an inquisitorial gaze, "where is she now? The body I mean."

Looking at the first Templar, Ferdinand straightened up in his seat:

"The Grandmistress is pious, entrusted by the Oracle to deliver her word and now her regent until her return. As per her instruction, the greater evil in the Unholy Order of Mordok should be addressed by all whom worship Obeah, even if this turns a blind eye to Nova..."

That comment particularly made Ferdinand uncomfortable in his suit of armour. He was one of the first to declare that the heretics needed to burn for their blasphemy. Yet, the heathen had grown stronger by the One True Faith's lack of action:

"The crusade has never been truly declared as we have not engaged with the Unholy Order due to the sheer travelling involved. The move to Wudenkin is in large to combat the heathens effectively. While I disagree with the Grandmistress' view on the heretics, I agree that the Order has been left unchecked for too long, with their mass growing by the day. It has been largely inferred that up until recently, Nova will support the war against Thalmarkin. However, the death of your cousin has complicated matters for Obeah's theocracy. Another reason why the Crusade was never truly declared was that the relationship with the once vassal realm was never truly established nor accepted."

Assessing Lavitz's reaction, Ferdinand continued:

"Do you believe the heathen or the heretic needs to be addressed first? What is your interpretation?"

Lavitz drummed his fingers on the table.

"I think, logistically, taking care of this Novan problem is the best thing to do first. If we don't, then we never will be able to. We must destroy this heresy which has rooted so close to us, and then we can worry about the long distance enemy. It is the only way to destroy both."

Lavitz eased himself down into the chair across from Vahanian.

"She... Jessica.. flirted with blasphemy.. by the Templar Code, my code, her sins demanded death... Are you here to try to kill me?"

Lavitz produced his own pipe, feeling somewhat embarrassed. While Vahanian smoked from a beautiful work of art, Lavtiz's was hand carved by himself, and he was no artisan. He pulled a pinch of tabacco and began to pack his pipe, gingerly drawing on it to test the airflow and avoid over packing. He looked up at Vahanian.

Lavitz shook his head, "Heresy, in my own house..." he said to himself, then remembered Vahanian.

"Try to kill you? Why in the name of the Prophetess would I try to do that?" Lavitz's eyebrows were raised, "No, old comrade. I do not seek your death. I only seek the truth of what happened. Jessica had a darkness within her. Who knows, perhaps it started when she was tortured by Akkan, or maybe she picked it up from those death worshiping cultists in Gothica. In the end, though, she loved pain more than she loved the Veiled Goddess. She had to be put down."

Lavitz paused to light his pipe, and then continued in a haze of smoke, "I am curious how she was at the end. More than that, though, I am here to once again pledge myself to the Templars. My sword must rejoin the battle against the darkness, especially now in the absence of the Prophetess. Much has changed, I see that. I find myself leap frogging through time. Last time, when I made the journey from Keffa to Rines, I was full of angst that I had been the past and that the Sacred Realm had moved on without me. Now I return from enlightenment, intent on serving the Sacred Realm."

He took a sip of water, "I was wondering if you might tell me a bit about the current political climate of the Sacred Realm? While none have served the Veiled Goddess longer than I, I am woefully out of date on current affairs, and little use to anyone in such a state..."

Vahanian exhaled smoke through his nose. The aromas of his tobacco mixed with Lavtiz's filled the room. Vahanian weighed the man who sat across from him before continuing.

"At the end, she was.. angry. Filled with hate and rage. Perhaps in part due to the Oracle's departure. She fought well and with great fury, though she was drunk and sloppy. I believe her time ruling the Novans corrupted her beyond the point of redemption." Vahanian sipped from his tea before continuing.

"The current political climate... is strained. War with our so-called allies Lux Nova is on our doorstep, but our government seems determined to move the Sacred Realm to Wudenkin to war Thalmarkin. An undertaking that is both foolish, and stupid. A heretical sect of the faith has split off and calls themselves the Light of Obeah, or something like that, and I am ashamed to say the Templar have grown far too complacent in recent years. I mean to change that, and could use your help. I would see us burn the heresy of the Novans to the ground before we even think of moving the Sacred Realm. Of course, with Erheas leading our armies, and Eva leading the realm, that notion will be snuffed out like a dim candle on the floor of the council... I have other ideas."

Vahanian finished his tea and puffed his pipe. Lavitz nodded and Vahanian launched into his plan. "Over the years of commanding the garrisons here in Grehk, my soldiers have found and executed several heretical witches, among the possessions have been dark magic scrolls. Summoning rituals for monsters and undead. I propose we unleash those demonic creatures onto the Novans, let them taste real combat and see how they handle them. Perhaps that will spark war, and we can have the backing of the Sacred Realm to eradicate the filth that resides in Nova." A fire shined in Vahanian's eye.

Here was a man who could help him bring about the change to the Templar that he'd long wished for.

Lavitz sat up in his chair.

"A heretical sect is on our doorstep, and the Sacred Realm sits idly?" Lavitz's eyes were wide, "Why in the name of the Veiled Goddess is the army not marching now? This is unacceptable. We must deliver the blow to this heresy while we still can before we consider moving north to deal with the heresy there."

He nodded at Vahanian's plan, "Indeed, the fire seems to have died, the lust to purge has grown weak. If these... Novans... were so able to push Jessica over the edge, then who knows what they are truly capable of. We must war upon them, and every war needs a spark to set it off."

He stood, and held out his hand to Vahanian, "I am yours."

Walking through the hallways to Vahanian's study, the solace allowed him to think. While the mentor and his successor had held conflict recently, there was no denying that now was a time to put that to a side - especially with recent events. Yet, this journey was one of selfish desire - he needed to answer a question.

Who is Ferdinand Greybrook?

The once hardline zealous Grand Templar was now a Steward with a severe lack conviction, perhaps impacted by the unanswered visions and questions. One of which included his current political standing, which by his own standards was despicable, he did not bend like the wind.

His study of Obeah as a priest was incredibly valuable to the former Grand Templar - he needed it to stay sane. The visions ceased for a while but have slowly begun to return, with his indecision. Ferdinand even thought about whether he should commit to becoming a Priest dedicated to the spread of the one true faith. While he could, it would almost be a lack of fulfilment for the Templar when he considered the faith at large.

Evil lurked all around Obia'Syela, heresy on its doorstep and the evergrowing strength of heathens, the future has never been so blurred. The Oracle's final wishes were also playing on his mind. What was the greater evil? Was this just one grand test made by Obeah to truly test her faithful whom had become reluctant in their duty?

By the time he got to the door, he was caught unawares by what was a conversation in the study, with a unfamiliar voice conversing with the Duke. Hesitant, Ferdinand knocked twice and announced himself before entering the room...

Vahanian stood and shook Lavitz's hand, he knew this was a man with the conviction to do what needed to be done.

A knock sounded at the door and Ferdinand poked his head in. Vahanian turned to face him as he entered. Ferdinand's eyes shifted between the two men in front of him as he went over and to Vahanian. "Your Grace.. I uh.." Ferdinand sputtered before Vahanian said "Lavitz, this is Ferdinand Greybrook, a Templar, the former Grand Templar after I stepped down, and my steward. Ferdinand, this is Sir Lavitz of house Gildre, the First Templar and cousin to Jessica." Vahanian beckoned each of them to sit. "It is good you are here, Ferdinand, we have much to discuss." Vahanian saw the look in Ferdinand's eye and waved it away. "Our personal matters can wait. We have to talk about how we're going to root out and kill the heresy that stains Lux Nova. Changes to the Templar order must be made, and I need to depart to use these scrolls tonight."

"The Templar must become... more. More militant, more disciplined, more motivated. No more should we allow anyone to join our ranks, they must be dedicated to the cause, determined to meet our standards, and willing to do whatever is necessary to root out and destroy all forms of heresy. And we need to do it fast. Ideas?"

Adjusting the the unfamiliar presence in the room, Ferdinand addressed Vahanian:

"Mentor, I agree with your course of action regarding the Templar, how do you propose we route out those whom are not committed? In regards to the heretics, we should perhaps weigh the significance of the greater evil in Thalmarkin with the Unholy Order. The Grandmistress recently..."

Ferdinand would of continued but he anticipated that both nobles had a opinion on the heretic or heathen debate.