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Goin' Under [GRP][FIN]; Rin
Topic Started: Sat Jul 9, 2011 6:09 pm (852 Views)
Rin
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The trio was escorted into the atrium of the tower, led upstairs. The girl was led away from both Ezekial and Duncan by a kindly old woman, her hair hidden by a dark green hood. Her face was lined with deep wrinkles, her skin as dark and tough as old leather. Her figure was covered in a demure cloak of dark blue, with the symbol of Callan pinned to the sash on her waist. ”Come with me girl. We need to get you clean before you dine with Master Sulla.” She glanced at Ezekial nervously, clearly uncomfortable with being separated from her companions. ”Oh, don't worry dear! You'll be reunited soon!” The crone led her away from the men, opening the door marked for women.

Inside was a small tub full of steaming water, with several towels draped over the edge of the pool. Rin waltzed over to the edge of the water, staring into the depths with an uncomprehending expression. “What is this?” She placed one hand in the water tentatively, looking up at the elderly woman. “Why is there water here? What do I do with it?”

The woman stared at Rin incredulously. ”Girl... Surely you've had a bath before?” She tsked when the construct shook her head no, stomping towards the girl. Her wrinkled fingers dug into Rin's arm. ”This simply will not do! Undress so that we can purify you before meeting the master!” Rin recoiled from the woman's clutch, slapping her hand away with her free hand. She crouched defensively, reaching into her satchel to grip the hilt of her longsword.

Rinrae, don't attack her! A bath is just a way for mortals to get clean.

No! This dress was a gift from Ezekial! I do not want to take it off!


The book let out a heavy sigh, and the girl could tell that if it had a tangible body it would be massaging its temples. If you insist... repeat what I say exactly... Maybe I can get you out of this situation without looking insane...

Rin snorted at that, but she still followed the Grimoire's commands, mimicking its silent instructions word for word. “I do not require a bath, but I would like to have my hair washed.” The woman screwed her face into a disapproving scowl, but nodded shortly. Rin seated herself with her back to the tub, feeling the warmth from the basin spread through her body. She leaned her head backwards so her lustrous golden hair floated on the water's surface. The crone stroked the girl's hair, tenderly submerging the thick locks in the water. Rin giggled at the sensation as the older woman brushed the tangles out of her hair, before adding shampoo to the water and scrubbing the dust from the construction site from her scalp.

A half hour later, Rin emerged from the room into the dining chamber, her face glowing from the intensity of her smile. Her hair had been teased up into an elaborate bun, the strands braided together and kept in place with a series of golden hairpins. She twirled as she approached the laden table, laughing with jubilation. She skipped over to Ezekial, eyes bright. “Look Ezekial! Look what the kind lady did to my hair! I am so pretty!” She had agreed to let the crone scrub her skin as well, although she had refused to take off the sundress or ribbons.
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Ezekial Smith
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The old man smiled, and waved to Rin to go with the old woman, that it was quite alright, and that they would meet again when it was time for dinner. Once the two women had left into the baths, Ezekial and Duncan sighed, and walked into the baths. There was another antechamber here, with a few pairs of baskets placed along the wall, and a shuttered window behind the baskets. Ezekial knocked on the windows while Duncan began the long process of removing his armor, and a small face appeared at it. Ezekial ascertained that this person was the head of the laundry service, and pointed to his pleated trousers, explaining how to wash and dry it to the person, as well as how to fold it after washing to retain the pleats. The head, a middle-aged woman with bronzed skin nodded with an expressionless face, and told him that it would be done as he asked. Ezekial thanked the woman, and she closed the window. By this time Duncan had finished removing his armor, and was peeling off the under tunic and trousers from his sweat-covered body. Ezekial began to remove his clothes, undoing the ties of his hakama, and removing his kimono and other undergarments before covering up with a small towel by the baskets and placing his clothes gently in the empty basket, the other with green and white trousers and a long tunic. He turned to the other man, who had already done similarly, and had began to walk into the next room, and followed him through the doorway.

The next room was divided into two sections, the near area filled with stalls and shower heads, with a dial that would deliver hot water, likely heated by magical or alchemical means. At the far end was a large pool where the men would soak after the shower. The two men went to adjacent stalls and shut the doors behind them, hanging the towels on the doors. They went about it by rote, and conversed as they did so. "What do you think of this situation? Think it's a trap?

"No, I doubt it's a trap, at least, we two are not the targets. Rin, on the other hand... Anyhow, this is probably something he's doing to appease us while he tries to have his way with the girl. What he doesn't know is that we aren't mindless thralls, and we certainly won't allow that."

"I hope that's all it is, not that I want- you know what I mean. Anyway, what do you think he'll feed us?"

"I hope he serves katsu karee."

"What's that?

"Oh, don't you know? It's pieces of pork, breaded and fried..." The conversation continued in this manner until they both had finished washing, and then they proceeded to the large pool of water. Sitting a meter apart, the two men settled in the hot water, and each let out a sigh at the luxury of this hot bath. Ezekial loved the heat that seemed to sooth out his bones, pained by old age, and his weary muscles. Eventually they heard a bell that meant that dinner was finished, and they left the bath, and returned to the antechamber, where they dried off and clothed themselves in the clothes of the devout that were in the basket. The old priest noted that their clothes were taken, as well as Duncan's armor. They quickly dressed, careful not to get the clothes wet, and left to go to the dining room.

The two men entered, and waited for a minute, standing off to the side rather awkwardly. When Rin walked into the room, Ezekial noted that she remained in her sun dress, and that her hair was in a complex bun perched on the back of her head. He smiled and sighed lightly when she stated that she was "so pretty", and responded as if mechanically that yes, she did look pretty. From the other side of the room walked in Master Sulla, who had his brows furrowed from whatever it was that he had to work on. He looked up and his brows parted, and his face was filled with a wide smile. Looking across, he chuckled to see that the girl had chosen to remain in her dress. He made a gesture for the three to take their places at the large table in the center of the room, and sat at the head of the table, preparing to say a Grace for the food.
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Rin
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Rin's face widened at Ezekial's praise, oblivious to the fact it was probably just an automatic response. The girl twirled, giggling. She had never known that women were supposed to do such things with their hair! The old lady had explained a lot of things women were supposed to do to the girl, although she had only understood around half of them. Most of them sounded boring, so she doubted she would do them, but it had been an interesting lesson all the same. Her expression fell slightly when Master Sulla entered the dining chamber, cloaked all in green and staring at her with undisguised intensity. Although he appeared to be around the same age as Exekial, there was none of the elf's softness or kindness in this man. Maybe it is not his fault... Maybe having the page influence the workers has altered his mind as well... There was still something incredibly disquieting about the man, although Rin tried to keep her discomfort from her features.

Rin, Ezekial and Duncan sat along the sides of the table, with Ezekial and Duncan on either side of Sulla and Rin on the elf's right side. If he was bothered by the girl's unwillingness to sit adjacent to him he did not let it show. Sulla simply raised his hands, palms pointing towards the ceiling and eyes closed. "We think Callam for this food. We thank him for the light he lends us to lead the way. We thank him for the fires he sends to remind us of our duties. We were born from ash, and to ash we will return!" There was a moment of silence after the prayer, and Rin shifted in her seat. She was not a fan of worshiping a god who seemed to believe immolation was the purest form of adulation.

There are much worst religions, Rinrae. This would not be the first time a greedy man has used religious beliefs to manipulate others... At least the workers appear to be happy.

Who would be happy being enslaved?
The Grimoire did not respond. Rin realized that if the workers were unaware of their thralldom the workers would probably be ecstatic to be enslaved. The thought sparked a wave of anger in the girl, but the only outward sign of her ire was a shaking hand as she lifted the silverware. The fare was quite impressive. A roast pig sat in the middle of the table, the meat glazed with some sticky sauce and garnished with spices and vegetables. A myriad collection of side dishes was arranged around the main course, salads and jellies and fruits. Rin wondered if all of the workers in the compound were fed so lusciously, or if the choicest morsels were reserved for Master Sulla alone.

The girl awkwardly spooned some of the salad onto her plate. The construct was not actually sure how to utilize the silverware; she had only picked it up because the men at the table had done the same. In order to mask her confusion she turned to look at Sulla, speaking with forced cheerfulness. "So! Are you the only priest of this church, Master Sulla? Or are there other leaders as well?" The question was not quite as innocent as it seemed; if there were men placed above Sulla in the cult, then perhaps one of them held the page.
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Ezekial Smith
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The three sat down at the table, the young girl away from Master Sulla, to Ezekial's right, Ezekial to his right and Duncan to his left. The table was made from thick mahogany, and it was beautifully carved, with floral designs on the carved legs and along the edge of the top. It was obvious that it did not fit in with the decor of the rest of the tower and was taken from another home, for the wood appeared to be very old. Over it was a dark green tablecloth with a gold embroidery along the edge of simple diamond shapes. It could seat a dozen people easily, and it seemed very empty with only the area near one end filled with food. The eight other chairs stood empty, like silent vanguards. At the center of the food was a large cooked hog, mouth stuffed with an apple, and its roast skin covered in a honey glaze, surrounded by carrots, lettuce, potatoes, and a variety of other vegetables. In the glaze was visible flecks of certain spices, but none that Ezekial could tell outside of roughly ground black peppercorn. Around it were small dishes of delicious fruits, mangoes and bananas from the south, raspberries from the north, and blackberries from the northeast. There were largest dishes of salad, simple salads compared to the more exotic fruits, along with small pitchers of dressing, of several colors. There were two gelatinous substances, a dark red cherry jelly, and a circular flan, with a sweet cream-colored flesh and a dark caramel skin.

Ezekial and Duncan's mouths watered looking at the pig, as did the Master's and they chuckled to each other, and the two newcomers were waved by the Master to pick their fill, and Ezekial motioned for Duncan to eat first. They each cut off a large slice of the honey ham, and Ezekial noticed that the young girl only ate the salad, although he said nothing. He picked up some salad with a vinaigrette that he poured over it, in moderation, as well as a few pieces of the mango cut into cubes and a few of the blackberries. Noticing the flan, he cut it carefully into eight pieces, and removed a single one, placing it on a smaller plate that was to the upper-right of his main dish. Looking down at the plating, he was surprised at all of the things. On the left of the main plate, towards the dish, there was a cloth napkin that the three men placed on their laps methodically, a large dinner fork, and a smaller salad fork. To the right was a large knife, and above it were two glasses, a tall one with a wide bowl and wide mouth, for red wines, a slightly shorted one with narrower bowl and mouth, for white wines, and a tall octagonal glass for water. It was rather strange to see this man with such delicate glassware and silverware. Directly above the place were a pair of small utensils, a spoon and fork, for desserts.

A pair of servants came, each holding a bottle of wine, one a Merlot, the other a Chardonnay. When they came to the Master, he held his hand over the white wine glass, and the man carrying the Merlot filled the red wine glass. When they came to Ezekial, he asked for the Chardonnay in a similar way, preferring a drier, less sweet, wine. After his request had been filled, they looked over to Duncan, and he shook his head, pointing inside the water glass. They nodded, and the Merlot-man waved over another who carried a large pitcher of iced water with which he filled the fire-man's glass. They looked to Rin, wondering if she would know what wine she would want. Their work done, they left, as did the water-man, and Ezekial and the Master lifted the glasses by the stems, swirling the wine in the bowl, with the lip near their nose to get the bouquet of the wines, and took a light sip from the glass. That finished, they lowered their glasses at the same time, and picked up fork and knife, both in the European fashion, and began to cut into their meat, lifting pieces to their mouths and chewing thoughtfully. Duncan, on the other hand, cut irregular chunks and lifted them to his mouth, although he had the tact not to smack as he chewed. The Master smiled at the young girl, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and the lecherous appearance vanished from him in that moment. He put his silverware down, and sat back in his chair, waving a hand around the table. "Look around you. There are, or rather, were, twelve heads of the twelve Churches, I being one of them. This is the only Church still surviving in Imythess, and there are only four others outside of Imythess.

"It used to be that there was one here, in Taras, one in Cascadia, Istan City, Kellen, three in Lervesin, two in Cerlor, one each in Suler, Tiash, and Kalack. It used to be that they would all congregate in the old Cathedral, but it no longer exists. This table and the dining things were brought from it shortly before the demon invasion. The cathedral was destroyed, but the underground sections surely survived. They are a virtual labyrinth, anyway, so anything other than a devout that went into them would not be likely to return to the surface. It's only a rumor among the younger devouts, but it was said that there were screams in the darkness, at night, and that they belonged to hideous monsters whose appearance could not be spoken, who could not feel pain. They were to be ultimate soldiers, but their aberrational form prevented that, and so they were locked up in there. Anyhow, now it not the time for such things. There is one person above the Twelve, but, I only met him once, because I was the youngest of the twelve heads of Church. He is the "Son of Callan", a person who existed from the beginning of our religion, and was born from Callan to watch us and ensure that we are going along the right path."
He took the glass by its stem and took a sip from it, his mouth dry from speaking for so long.

((OOC: Hideous monsters whose appearance could not be spoken? Ultimate soldiers who could not feel pain? A little girl with a long black veil and red choker? Also, remember that while the SoC is an observer, he isn't always going to ensure that they go on the right path. He's only human*.))
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Rin
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Rin absentmindedly speared a tomato as the man spoke of the hierarchy of the Church of Callan. Although the great cathedral that had once stood in Taras was interesting, she doubted that it would actually be important to her search. After all, she could sense that the page of the Grand Grimoire was hidden away somewhere within this compound, not a church that was in a different section of the city. This Son of Callan sounded like a much more interesting lead, although from the way that Sulla spoke she doubted that the prophet was within the compound. The girl munched on the fruit as she pondered this new information. If Master Sulla truly did not possess the page and there was no one else above him in the church's organization, who was manipulating the minds of the people with the Grimoire's page?

The dinner continued for almost half an hour. Even without the page's power Sulla was a charismatic and friendly speaker, often pausing to accent his stories with wild hand gestures and booming guffaws. Unlike many religious leaders, he did not seem to have any reservations about gluttony, eating several thick slices of ham and heaping portions of several of the appetizers. Rin was satisfied with nibbling on her salad and sipping from a glass of cool water. Her stomach felt like it was tied in knots from the oppressive paranoia she felt in the tower. The feeling of being watched had returned, and she had failed to notice any spy holes or hidden watchers when she looked around the large dining room.

When the meal was concluded several servants approached the table to take away the half-empty dishes. Sulla leaned back in his chair, slapping his belly contentedly and smiling at the trio. "Now that that's taken care of, let's get down to business. The man's eyes slid over Rin's body, causing the girl to shiver uncontrollably as he wet his lips with his tongue. He narrowed his eyes, and suddenly the power of the page washed over the dining table, wrapping around the three of them. Rin bit her lip and alshed out mentally, barely managing to prevent the man from subverting Ezekial and Duncan's minds. Apparently unaware of his failure, Master Sulla flashed an oily smile at the other men. "The two of you are no longer required. Rin may remain so we may discuss her... role in the Church of Callan..." He gestured to the door, clearly ordering them to depart, although his eyes never left the girl's figure. The girl stared at him incredulously, both hands balling into fists under the table.
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Ezekial laughed loudly at one of the Master's stories, which he supplemented with wide waves gestures and facial expressions. Eventually the laughter slowed to a stop, and the plates were taken away, as well as the rest of the food. The Master patted his swollen belly, an action that struck Ezekial as rather rude, considering. He took a glance to Rinrae, his tongue running over his lips licentiously, an act that caused the edge of Ezekial's lip to flash up in contempt and disgust. Ezekial could see the girl shivering under Sulla's gaze in his peripheral vision, although he said nothing about it. Then he saw the man narrow his eyes and could feel a strange energy begin to poke at the fringes of his consciousness, like the tendrils from the time of the sermon. Like that time, they retreated from the more powerful will of the small girl, although it would seem that the man did not know that. Perhaps he could not feel when his onslaughts were defeated. Either way, he began to speak to the two men, although he was looking at the door. He told them to leave Rin and him alone.

Duncan growled lightly at the back of his throat, and Ezekial said in a harsh voice, "I will do no such thing. This defiance shocked the Master, leaving him sputtering. It took him a few moments before he could find the ability to speak.

"You cannot do that! I am the Master! You must obey me!" Duncan slammed a hand on the table, an action that frightened the Master in its violence.

"You are no Master of mine. I would have no one who intends to defile a maiden so much younger than you. You are a host, no more. If you intend to assault one of our group, you'll have the two of us to deal with." The Master stepped back from the table quickly, upsetting the chair, an action which garnered a like response from the two men. Both men went for their swords, and the Master shouted out,

"This is violence! Guards!" Two doors in the walls slammed open, and four men, wearing iron cuirasses and hard leather epaulets, entered the room. They wore boots made from thick leather, and had gauntlets made from a similar material. They wielded large spears with large, falchion-like blades. They moved between the two men and the Master, their spears at the ready. The two men readied themselves, both drawing their main swords, Duncan drawing his shield.



The man laughed at this display of strength. It was obvious to him that the guards would be defeated easily by these three. It was amusing to him that the two men would attempt to guard the young girl, a person who could very easily defeat the both of them. Lucas sat in his "throne", a large chair with a tall back, the edges of it carved with an illustrated tale from the Book of Callan. Although his eyes were closed, he could see everything that had happened in his mind's eye. He already knew what would happen, that these people would come to his throne room to take that which was his. He had already seen this come to pass, he had seen everything that would occur in his domain. It was his cross to bear. He could barely wait for the time to come when he would be freed from his burden, like an arcane Atlas. He could tell that it would come to pass, and that these people would be the ones to do it. Once that was done, he could sleep a dreamless slumber. "Fight, fight, fight, little dragon horse. Invade this crumbling castle, free the king. The gold generals are away, and the bishops are scrambling."
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Rin was not surprised at all when both Ezekial and Duncan rose in her defense, quickly jumping to her feet as well. The elderly elf had proven very protective of the girl time after time, and Duncan seemed to be a trustworthy companion. "We do not need to obey you Master Sulla. We never will." Even if Sulla had somehow managed to control their minds she doubted that she would be in true danger; the girl was a capable combatant and did not actually require anyone's protection. She simply smirked when the leader of the church showed his true colors, scrambling to his feet and summoning guards. Rin curled her fingers as if she held something in her open hand, reaching for the presence of the Grand Grimoire. It responded with a surge of power, washing through her frame like tidal wave. Sparks emanated from her curled fingers, coursing between the digits.

"Excalibur."

An ivory grip was the first thing to appear. The pommel formed next, formed of harden gold and with rubies deeply set into the shining metal. The crossguard had been elaborately sculpted in the shape of two lunging chimera's, their maws gaping open. Their eyes glittered before golden fire cascaded from their miniature mouths, coursing upwards from the hilt and forming a glowing blade of pure golden energy. One of the guards had laept forward to accost the girl, but drew back at the sight of the shining weapon. Rin's grin grew feral as she swept the sword through the air, its edges oscillating and humming as it cut through the air. "I will only warn you once. Do not do this."

The guard did not have the mental capacity to heed the warning or Sulla's control over his body was too great. In either case, the man lunged forward, bringing his stylized glaive down in a strong two-handed slash. Rin twirled away from the attack with a dancer's grace, the heavy blade crashing into the chair she had been sitting in instead of the girl. Rin did not pause for even a heartbeat, jumping closer to the man and jabbing out with Excalibur. The energy blade did not falter as it passed through the guard's cuirass directly above his heart, ignoring both armor and clothing as it pierced directly into his flesh. There was a sizzling sound and the man's eyes widened, staring down at the shining blade protruding from his body. The construct withdrew the blade without hesitation, the deep wound cauterized by the intensity of the weapon's enchantment. The tip of the sword had been inserted just far enough into his chest in order to pierce the guard's heart, and he fell to the ground, dead. Rin turned to the next guard, her words a sing-song chant that was eerie considering the ease with which she had just killed a grown man. "Now there are three! On for Duncan, one for Exekial, and one for me!" Her eyes were bright and exciting. Fighting was much easier than pretending to be under Sulla's influence.
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The two men were slightly surprised to see the dexterity of the young fighter, although they had seen it several times before, Ezekial many times before. More than that, they were made uneasy by the cavalier attitude she had when she murdered the man, almost as if she only possessed a child's understanding of the concept of death. Either way, they both agreed that it was better that she was on their side. Now that there were only three, they seemed significantly easier to defeat, especially as the young girl had cut down one of them in such a short time. Ezekial sidestepped a lung by the forward spearman and preformed a quick draw with his katana, drawing the sword horizontally towards the man in point. He jumped back and knocked the sword aside with the flat of the head of his spear and thrusted once more. The old priest dodged again, this time to his right, and drew the sword upwards, hanging over his head with the blade parallel to the ground. He swung it down on the spear man before he could react and the edge cut deeply into the man's shoulder, cutting the tendon easily. The man's left arm dropped uselessly, and he dropped the heavy glaive, drawing a curved dagger from his left side, lunging forward to stab Ezekial. The old priest caught his hand and swung it behind the attacker's back, stepped around him as he did so. He tripped up the man and forced him to drop the dagger by pressing it closer to the back, causing immense pain. With the blade dropped, he lifted his katana, the pommel down, and dropped it heavily onto the man's head, knocking him unconscious.

He stood, seeing the man, Duncan notice this action, and shift his fighting style accordingly. He had been attacking viciously at the opponent, to maim and kill, but now he settled back, to merely stun. These were not truly evil people, merely possessed by the stronger will of the Master. They did not deserve death, and Ezekial had tried to avoid harming the man in a long-lasting way as much as he could. Duncan cut free the head of the spear with a strong downward slash to the wood after the man had thrusted his spear forward. While the man was looking at the shorn tip of his glaive, the tall knight stepped forward and bludgeoned him with his big shield, knocking him out. Now with three of the four taken care of, and Rin surely to take care of the fourth, the two stepped forward, Duncan circling around the Master to cut off a method of escape. For this man Ezekial would use the killing edge of his blade easily. Master Sulla realized this, his face ashen, and his hands shaking. He threw out his hands in the directions of both of the men and a burst of flames erupted from in front of them. Ezekial stepped backwards, stumbling and nearly falling, although he caught himself in time. Duncan held forth his shield and the flames were driven back by the insignia upon it.

Seeing that his attack had failed, he jumped forward to attack the old man. Ezekial drew back, his sword swinging in a horizontal arc to cut him. The old man did a strange thing, holding up his right forearm to block the blade, which cut through the robe but struck a plate of metal, sinking into it. It was not enough to damage the blade, but enough to make it a trouble to free it. The Master would not allow the old man to counter-attack, for that would surely mean his death. He stepped in, and delivered a strong uppercut to Ezekial's jaw, knocking him backwards. Ezekial saw spots at the edges of his vision, and fell to the ground, wrenching his sword from the man's steel bracers as he did so. He landed on his back, hard, and felt himself being drawn back up by his collar. He also felt the now familiar feel of the katana's handle leave his hand. His head snapping forward and his ascent was stopped, he was his again from the side, and the blow made his ears ring. It was the only blow that would land, though, for Duncan grabbed the assailant roughly about the shoulders and tore him away, throwing him to the ground. Ezekial fell back, cradling his head with one hand, and attempting to grasp his sword with the other.
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Rin dipped under the thrust of the spear, spinning on one foot as she did so and lashing out with the glowing sword. The man barely managed to jump back in time, the energy blade whistling through the hem of his pants without making a sound. The girl somersaulted to one side to avoid his next attack, carefully keeping Excalibur from burning her own flesh. Although the weapon was well-suited for injuring living creatures, it was entirely useless against any non-living object. She could not use the holy sword in order to block any other weapon or cut down doors, but against flesh its effectiveness was unparalleled. This time the guard swept the spear low, towards her ankles. Rin responded by effortlessly jumping over the strike... and slamming her feet down on the wooden shaft of the spear. The unexpected weight tore the weapon from the guard's hands, and he stumbled away from the girl in fear. She cocked her head to one side as she approached the guard, frowning. "That will not do at all... You are still under his control." The guard grimaced and pulled out a curved dagger, lunging towards the girl once more as she reversed her grip on the blade.

Rin stepped around the frenzied attack, grabbing the man's wrist with her free hand. She took a step forward and slammed the pommel of the sword into the man's temple first. He staggered but did not fall, and twisted his wrist so the dagger dragged across the silver ribbons on her forearm. Amazingly, the fabric did not yield to the slash, the edge of the blade bouncing off of the deceptive fabric. Rin pursed her lips and brought her fist down again, this time striking the man's jaw. His mandible shattered with an audible crack and his eyes rolled back in his head. Rin nodded assertively and let go of his wrist as the guard toppled to the floor, spinning Excalibur nimbly. "There. Now you are free."

The girl felt a wave of heat crash over her back, and she turned just in time to see Master Sulla conjure a thick burst of jade flames. She cried out, but her warning was not needed; Ezekial managed to dodge the conflagration by the skin of his teeth, while Duncan's shield seemed to be enchanted against such an attack. She barely had time to sigh with relief before Ezekial was neatly disarmed and thrown to the ground, one arm cradling his head.Rin's eyes narrowed and she heard a roaring in her ears as her entire world seemed to go red. "You will not hurt Ezekial!" She charged around the edge of the table to join the fray, gripping the humming sword with both hands.

Master Sulla ignored the outburst, desperately wrapping his fingers around the edge of Duncan's shield. With a yell of exertion he yanked the shield off of the knight's arm, the leather straps snapping from his enchanted strength. Sulla barely managed to reverse the shield in time for Duncan's longsword to bounce off of the concave metal. The church leader deflected two more blows before charging the knight in desperation, slamming the shield into him like a battering ram. The knight lost his feet with a shout, falling to the floor in a clattering heap of armor, and Master Sulla turned to escape... only to find his path blocked by Rin. The girl's eyes were hard and angry, and the blade in her hand seemed to shine brighter in response. "You will not be leaving here, Sulla."

The man pointed one finger around the edge of the shield, sending another gout of flames roaring towards the girl. Her response was to dive forward, sliding across the polished marble floor to avoid the magical attack, slamming her body into Master Sulla's shins. He tumbled to the ground with a curse, the shield spinning away from the man's hands. He desperately tolled to regain his feet but Rin was there first, crouching over his body. Excalibur was held a hairsbreadth from Sulla's jugular, the flesh nearest the blade blistering from the heat of the energy weapon. His eyes were wide with fear, but somehow he understood that trying to reason with the girl would be a poor choice. She glanced at Duncan, eyes emotionless. "Is Ezekial okay?" If the elf priest had been hurt no force on the face of Chaon could save Master Sulla.
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Ezekial Smith
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The false priest, although he considered himself a true priest, fell heavily to the ground, getting up easily, and wrapped his fingers around the edge of the center-grip shield that Duncan wielded. He pulled, noticing that nothing was happening, and released a bit of magical energy, flooding his limbs with strength and power. Now he easily tore the shield from the knight, snapping the leather straps. He flipped the shield quickly before the man could get in a swipe with his sword and blocked the blow that came. He blocked the next few attacks in a similar way and charged forward with the shield in his hands, knocking the knight to the ground. He turned around to escape, feeling prematurely triumphant, and saw the girl standing in his way. He growled, and held up the shield in front of him, moving his finger past it. He let the power of the Son of Callan flow through him and the air in front of him erupted in bright green flames. He only able to step back once when the girl slammed into his shins, and he fell to the ground, rolling away to avoid landing on the girl that was trying to kill him. He swore, loudly. This girl was attractive, but trying to murder him was definitely not something he could abide by. He tried to scramble back, but the girl stood over him, her shining blade next to his neck.

He could feel the heat of the blade blister his skin, and his eyes opened wide as if involuntarily. He listened to the girl's question and his lips curled into an expression of scorn. "Your precious 'Ezekial' is already on his way to the grave, whatever I do is just going to bring closer the inevitable. I do not fear you, witch. Callan will provide and protect. You cannot defeat a preacher of the true faith." He spit at the girl, and a blade split his forehead for doing it. Above the dead man stood the old priest, his head pounding, his hands gripping the handle of his sword tightly. His face was stony and serious, also his eyes betrayed the depth of his wrath to the man. He wrenched his blade from the man's head, and shook the blood from it, and sheathed it in a smooth motion. His head still pounding, he put a hand to his temple and whispered the incantation for a simple healing spell. The pain receded now, but there was still a dull throbbing that remained, although it did not hurt. He bent down to pick up the shield and tossed it to the knight, who had since forced his way to his feet and caught it easily. He shook his head and hooked up the small clasps on his back that entered small ringlets connected to the back of the shield, acting as a way to hang up the shield. He would have to go to an armorers to get the leather repaired, but that was a task for another day.

Looking at the man's corpse, he realized that the man could not have the page on him. He was wishing that they could leave now, for he was yearning for rest, to heal his hurts, but they had to find the accursed page. Usually he was fine in the quest for pages, but this time, he was dog tired. He sighed, and said, "Rin, there's another set of stairs. Let's keep going." And so they did, up the stairs through three more floors, all conspicuously empty, a strange sight considering the lavishness of the other adornments. Finally, they reached the final floor, a closed door acting as a barricade. Ezekial thought at first that it may be locked, but when he put a hand to it, it opened with a loud creak, the light from outside spilling into the room. Ezekial gulped, and looked to the girl nervously. Somehow he got a bad feeling from this room, but he could not pinpoint how. He pushed the door open on the entirely dark room, and saw a man sitting in a throne in the center of the room. He was slumped back in his chair, the arms hanging down over the arms, and his head was back, the eyes and mouth wide. He was dead.
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Rin
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The girl sensed movement above her as the false prophet spoke, and luckily had the foresight to slam her eyes closed. A warm shower of blood sprayed across her face, freckling her sculpted features with grotesque red dots. She leaned back from the twitching corpse, raising one hand to her features to wipe the blood out of her eyes. When she opened them she was overjoyed to see that it was Ezekial who had struck the final blow. "Ezekial! I am so glad you are okay! I was worried!" She beamed at the elderly elf, raising to her feet. Blood had splattered across her face and shoulders, small dots of crimson blooming on the fabric of her white sundress. Seemingly aware of her gruseome appearance, the girl closed her eyes and tried to focus on the page's location. No matter how hard she tried, she could not even sense a relative direction for the fragment of the Grimoire; the entire tower reeked of its power. "Let us try to find it up that staircase!"

The trio slowly worked their way up the interior of the tower, although their pace was noticeably slowed by the elf. The blow delivered by Master Sulla had obviously winded the priest. Rin tried to not appear worried, but she knew she was probably failing miserably. The elf had become a father figure for the construct, seeing as she lacked actual parents. Ezekial was kind and protective, and the two of them had become very close in their travels. The fact that Sulla had injured the elf infuriated the girl, but Ezekial had killed him before Rin could punish him. It was probably for the best; the construct could still remember the extreme anger that had consumed when she slayed the Red Lily Man. Each higher level of the tower was empty, lending the entire structure an eerie, abandoned atmosphere. Although they had incapacitated the guards and Sulla himself, there was no sound of pursuit from below them.

They eventually reached one final door, and Ezekial pushed it open. Rin followed him into the large chamber, looking around in awe. The floor was covered with a thick plush carpet, yards and yards of soft green fabric. The only adornment in the room was a single chair that had seemingly been curved out of pure jade. Intricate designs were carved into the throne, images of people and winged figures and all-consuming flames. Rin walked towards the throne cautiously, her eyes locked on the prone figure. He seemed dwarfed by the high-backed seat, a child pretending to be an adult. His fingers were locked in a death grip around the arms of the chair, his fingers tight and bloodless. The construct sighed and shook her head sadly. 'It is here somewhere, Ezekial. The page feels stronger than ever here. I can almost feel it..." She rubbed her fingers together, although she still clutched Excalibur tightly in her other hand.

She walked closer to the throne, bending down so she could examine the inscriptions carved into the side of the chair. It seemed to show a cycle of death and rebirth, the figures eventually consumed by fierce flames. She shivered, standing and looking away from the disturbing image. "Let's hurry up and find the page. I do not want to stay in this tower a moment longer then necessary."
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Ezekial Smith
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The old priest nodded in agreement with the young girl, and walked up to the corpse. There was something that he would have to do first. He placed a hand over the corpse's eyes and began to whisper the rites of the dead. Release... That word was whispered into his ear as if in a loud voice, and before he could contemplate much on the meaning of it, it was as if a bolt of lightning passed through him. He arched his back from the sudden pain, his chest thrust forward, and tried to remove his hand from the face of the corpse, but found that he could not. His mouth was contorted against his will into a word: Release. Another bolt passed through him, although he could not voice his pain. The corpse's skin glowed in arcane lines, tracing the veins of the body that carried blood and magical energy, and from underneath the priest's hands the eyes glowed particularly strongly, so that he could see their outline through his hand. The lines, consumed with an eldritch glow, passed into Ezekial's body, travelling up his arm and terminating in his eyes. He could see an image now, of a man, this man, being led to the gallows in a town square. He heard the speech, and repeated it, word for word, from the man as he stood to die. "I am not afraid to die, for I die for my faith, the True Faith, and the one true god, Callan. Search you hearts, all of you who hide in the darkness, and erupt like a torrent that would sweep away all of those who cling to a false faith. The might of our conviction, and the fervor of our piety will defeat all those who would aim to deny us our existence. Rise up, my brethren, rise up! Do not let my death be in vain as I go to Paradise." He began to speak again, and the hooded executioner stepped up and kicked the platform from under where he was.

The man bobbed on the noose, and soon his movements ended. The crowd, mostly of another religion than of the dead man, cheered, for to them he was just another heathen to be cleared away. Interspersed throughout the crowd were small groups of people and individual men and women who did not cheer, but neither did they cry. Their faces were stony, and the stalked away from the repugnant scene. Ezekial's vision blurred, and when it returned to clarity, he saw a far different scene. On a large round stone lay the body of the man who had just died, wrapped in his burial shroud, the outline of a page just barely visible through the slightly transparent cloth. Around him stood twelve mages, each holding a large staff with a curled head, similar to a shepherd's crook or a crozier, with the very tip splitting and wrapping around a small circular crystal that glowed brightly with a white light. Behind each of the twelve mages stood twelve free-standing stone arches, engraved with ancient runes that glowed brightly at this time. The twelve mages spoke a long incantation, each speaking the same words in time, and a trail of light passed from each of the crystals in their staffs into the corpse lying on the stone. When the lights had passed, the crystals cracked, and the body glowed slightly. A loud gasp emerged from the body, as from a diver just returned from a long dive. He cast aside his shroud, and stepped from the stone, looking around him. The mages crowded around him, catching him when he nearly fell, and one spoke up, of which and of its response Ezekial vocalized. "Welcome back, my liege. There is much that has taken place in your absence. Is there something wrong, my liege?" The "liege" had his hands wiping his forehead from a cold sweat, and his face was deathly white. He had seen a terrible thing during his death, and it was imperative that these people never knew.

"No, I'm fine. Let's get on with it. And don't call me 'liege'." The mage nodded, and replied, "Of course, my l- ah, Lucas." The group of thirteen men walked away from the place, and Ezekial's vision blurred again, to a vision of the living man standing before him, smiling.

"You are here for the page. This much I have seen. By all means, take it. Perhaps then I may rest my head. Goodbye, priest, and good luck. You've attracted entirely the wrong kind of attention. Any more than this, I may not say." The man turned and walked away, and the priest shouted after him, telling him to wait, to explain what he had said, but he did not turn, and soon enough, he vanished, his form whispered away like smoke on the breeze. Ezekial was back in the tower throne room, and a huge wind blew in it, blowing back the pleats and folds of his clothing, and it stopped as abruptly as it had began. Almost like a whisper, Ezekial thought that he could hear the words "Thank you." float around the room. Ezekial took his hand away from the body and it disintegrated into a light grey dust, and in the center of the dust, was a page.
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Rin
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The girl had become accustomed to the old priest's method of treating the recently deceased and sending them on the next part of their journey, so she was not surprised when he reached forward to touch the corpse. Rin stepped back in shock as Ezekial cried out in pain, his back arching and eyes going wide. She though she heard a disembodied voice whisper a single word before he yelled again, writhing in pain. Rin jumped forward to pull him away from the throne, but Duncan got there first and caught her arm. "What are you gonna do if you touch him and get stuck too? We gotta just hope for the best, girl..." She struggled against the knight's grip on her arm, but somewhere deep inside she knew the man was right. It would be a mistake to fall prey to the same trap that held Ezekial in its jaws. She could feel that the page was somehow responsible for his distress, but she still had no idea what to do.

The knight and the waif watched with apprehension as the elf spoke, his voice possessing an odd echo, as if it was layered on top of another person speaking. Although they were not shown the same images as the elf, the words were enough to show that this corpse had been someone important in the Church of Callan. Rin thought back to Sulla's explanation of the organization's hierarchy... Perhaps this was the Son of Callan? Perhaps the preacher had not known that the prophet was at the pinnacle of the tower, his body preserved in this airtight room. When Ezekial finally collapsed to the ground the corpse immediately crumbled into dust. Duncan cried out and went to one knee to check on the elderly elf, but Rin's eyes were transfixed by the glowing page on the seat of the throne. She reached out and scooped it up before turning to check on Ezekial, feelings its power resonate with every ounce of her being. Finding each page was like being submerged in a tub of pleasantly warm water. "Ezekial! What happened? Are you okay?"

Before the priest could answer the door to the throne chamber burst open, a dozen guards spilling into the room. Each of them held one of the heavy-bladed spears. Rin and Duncan immediately turned towards this new threat, brandishing their weapons and stepping forward to place themselves between the guards and Ezekial. The next man to enter the room was a familiar face; Rin recognized him as the sullen acolyte from earlier, when Sulla had presented his sermon to the masses. The man looked at them with shrewd blue eyes, taking in their weapons and the empty throne standing behind them. He smiled nervously and beckoned for the guards to lower their weapons, stepping forward as he did so and demonstrating that his own hands were empty.

"Calm down! My name is Anakin, one of Sulla's acolytes... I know what he was doing here. He brainwashed all of these people somehow." Rin glared at the man suspiciously, her fingers tightening on the grip of Excalibur, but she did not move to engage the man. Not yet, anyway. "I was able to resist his enchantment, somehow, but I was one of the few in the entire compound who was aware of what was going on. The Church of Callan is not to blame here; Master Sulla simply went to far. Please, let me fix this... We are doing good work here. Taras needs to be rebuilt, and the church has the money to facilitate the reconstruction. We won't force any of the workers to live here, although anyone who wishes to stay will be welcome, of course. Please don't let your hatred for Master Sulla ruin what small amount of good he was able to do here..." Rin glanced at Duncan with a suspicious expression, but the knight looked to be torn with indecision as well. She would have to choose their course of action here. The girl turned to Anakin and opened her mouth...




The next day Rin and Ezekial stood at the gate they had used to enter the complex, staring back at the massive building towering over the reconstruction efforts. The fire at the peak of the tower had been quenched; Anakin's first order of business had been summoning all of the workers to the lecture hall and informing them of what Master Sulla had done. Many of the workers had been shocked, but the chamber had also been less full than it had been at the sermon they attended, suggesting some of the workers had already departed the compound after the page's power had been contained. Although a few of the followers had chosen to remain within the complex, a vast majority of the men and women who had been bewitched had left to find their own families and reunite with them. The girl looked to the elf, biting her lip nervously. "Did I do the right thing here, letting Anakin stay in charge?"
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Ezekial Smith
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When he saw the page, Ezekial felt his limbs go weak, and fell to the ground. The area around him began to slow down, and the sound of his own breathing was almost like a shout in his ears. He heard the voice of the girl, although he could not tell what she was saying, he could tell from her tone that she was worried. Then, the door exploded open, and his vision turned black. He awoke in a tented infirmary, a nurse sitting by his side. She wore a simple green dress, with a white apron over it emblazoned with a red cross inside of a circle. Her blonde hair was tied in a neat bun, although a few strands of hair had worked their way out from it. He sat up quickly, and immediately regretted it, his head throbbing painfully. The nurse shouted out, trying to force him back into bed. He brushed her aside, ignoring the pain, and stood up from the bed, holding his hand out to steady himself. He made a few wobbling steps, and opened the flaps of the tent open wide to see a smiling bear staring at him. "Preved! My name is Medvedev, I was asked by Anakin to make sure that you don't hurt yourself." This "Medvedev" spoke in a heavy Slavic accent, although his Common was syntactically very good. The old priest glared at him, and stepped outside, saying that he did not need anyone to make sure that he was safe.

After he said that, however, he stumbled, and Medvedev caught him by the arm, asking him if he was sure about his previous statement, which earned him another glare from the old priest. He stepped in the soft grass, his steps less shaky now, and listened to the bear-man talk about all of the changes to the camp now that Anakin had succeeded Sulla. Ezekial nodded to his speech, but he was not really listening. He was enjoying the sensation of the soft grass on the soles of his feet, for he had left the tent without picking up his shoes. No matter, he would go and get them later, when he went to get his own clothes. He looked at Medvedev while he was talking. He was a tall man at nearly eight feet tall and wore a full set of adamantium plate armor. His breastplate wore the symbol of Callan, the fist sheathed in emerald fire. All one could see of his body was his big furred head, that of a bear. At his right side was a giant mace, a shestopyor, a flanged mace with six flanges in the shape of an arrow's fletches, hung in a leather sheath that let the heavy iron hangle hang loosely. On his guantlets, there was a huge flat piece of metal on the outer circuits like the heads of anvils, likely to block strikes. This was a curious crusader, Ezekial thought.

Eventually they were led to where Duncan and Rin were, and they walked up to them quietly, although they noticed their approach. He looked at the girl when she asked him her question, her face marred by her indecision, even after the decision had been made. He smiled, feeling better, and replied,

"Of course you did. What other choice did you have? This complex belongs to the Church, and it is better to have someone like Anakin controlling it than someone else the Church would send out here. After all, without the page too contort him, he'll be alright. Now, Duncan, Medvedev here tell me that you will remain here." It was not phrased as a question, but his tone implied that he desired more information on it.

"Yes, that's right. The Council will have my head if this place doesn't keep going straight, and I think that the two of you will be fine without me. You probably would have been fine here without me, even. Fantastic, isn't it? Stuck here, with a big cub." Medvedev laughed boisterously, and slapped Duncan on the back, propelling him forward onto his face. He shot up quickly, yelling at the big bear, nothing hurt besides his pride. Ezekial laughed at the sight, it reminding him of a comedy routine he had seen, between a tsukkomi and a boke, a straight man and a funny man. He turned to mention this to Rin, when his eyes alighted on a man coming towards him. He was cautious at first, but saw quickly that it was Dvor, the man who had warned him about Sulla. Ezekial greeted him cheerful, but stopped when he saw his gaunt expression. He was about to ask what was wrong when he said in a low voice,

"You've caught the attention of bad people. Watch out for 'Red Rover'." Ezekial was about to ask him what he meant, noticing that it was similar to what the Son of Callan had asked him, but he walked away swiftly before he was able to. He shook his head, trying to put the thought out of his head, but he was not entirely able to. The duo walked to the gate, and standing on the threshold, Ezekial looked at the girl. He asked her if she was ready to go get yet another page, and she nodded happily. Ezekial smiled at her, and the two left the compound, to get yet another page. The two were as of yet that a sinister existence now watched over them, plotting for the future.

- FIN -
Edited by Ezekial Smith, Sun Jul 31, 2011 12:40 am.
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