Danton was greeted by three Oraea monks, carrying a gift
size bottle of what he presume to be some kind of alcohol and a small selection
from the buffet from earlier. His bloodstained clothes and smeared face made
them recoil and hesitant to even continue talking. Two of the monks were
standing at the front, with one behind obviously meeker than the rest. It was
he who was pulled forward by the other two to talk to Danton as they quickly
stepped back. His words stammered as he
offered help for the injured if needed but Danton tried to convince them of
another scenario. He told them that he was medical practitioner assisting an operation
being overseen by an Aeon Priest from the Papal Spire. Due to the conditions in
Auspar, those that needed medical attention outside the caldera were no longer
allowed help from the Aeon Priests inside the city. He was here on a mission of
mercy, helping the sick and injured of Thaemor and if the Oraea was any further
of a distraction, the patient may lose her life. The monks looked at each other and realised it
was probably best if they left well alone and gingerly handed over the basket
of gifts, offering more at the Oraea for after the surgery. He nodded and thanked them then snatched the
basket of goods out of the monk's hand and closed the door behind him. He let
out a sigh, leaning against the door to make sure they had gone and wouldn't
force their way in.
His eyes drifted towards Moma, whose convulsions were now
becoming violent. Her skin was erupting in scales and through the flickering of
her eyelids, he could see a familiar mutation.
Xera had had difficulty keeping her still while the Oraea was outside
the door but with Danton's return he let go of her, now only realising how much
her body was fighting against him. The table that supported her started to rock
with her movements, showing signs of giving way. Danton had never seen this
type of reaction in his men but it had haunted his dreams. The total conversion
of his body and mind stalked him, a serpentine creature of guilt, hatred and
fear. It was the embodiment of losing own his identity and becoming a true son
of House Ethis. He knew what Nastrond could do to a person and if Moma was receiving
these mutations all at once, she would become a monster. There was no other
outcome but to end another life by his hands. He justified his actions in his
mind over and over again. His secrecy was too important, his investment in Xera
was too important and ultimately, he himself, was too important to die.
In the ranch across the village, Raneaux had slumped against
the wall by the door in hopes of resting before the drop. She glanced up at
Umbra who was unable to blend into the dark due to the lit candles and a roaring
fireplace. It took her a few moments
before this fact sunk in. It was the middle of the night, Dehart's guards had
not made it to the drop point but the candles and fire meant that somebody had
been here or perhaps still was. She told Umbra to search the room, while massaging
her head. The pain felt as if a pick was trying to gain purchase in her skull. Her
concerns to their seclusion were quickly confirmed as Umbra peeked around the
corner that framed what seemed to be a small kitchen and noticed a sleeping
man. He was surprising well groomed, his beard had been shaped and trimmed and
his hair had been styled. The garments he was wearing seemed to Umbra to be
deemed fashionable, or at the very least owned by a person with money but there
were the tale-tale signs of armor underneath. His wrists were covered in thick
hide and his neck was collared by metal plates on his jacket. He seemed not much older than someone in his
mid-thirties but the leather case he had between his feet was much older. It
was made from an exotic hide, a scaly hue of dark purple tarnished by time and
heavy use all held togehter by faded brass. The top was almost a peak with a fraying
handle in the same leather spaning its width. The two as a whole did not seem
to fit.
Umbra knew that even from the man's sleeping figure, he was
most likely dangerous. The only way to turn the tables was to snuff out the
candles and provide himself shadows for him to work in. He asked if Raneaux
would be able to help but she soon realised she was far too drained to provide
assistance. She panicked a little, knowing that the rest she so deeply needed
would have to wait and whatever was to happen next, she didn't have the
strength to get into a fight. Her mind
reached out across Darkperch to Xera and pleaded for his help. He asked Danton
if it would be better suited if Danton went in his stead but Danton shook his
head and told him to go as requested, covering up the fact that he wasn't sure
if Moma was truly dead. Xera grumbled under his breath again and wiped the
specks of blood that he had accidently let slip past his precautions and careful
eye. He left the room and slammed the door, not really knowing how he was going
to help with someone that seemed to cause concern for even the Hawk-Eye. The
last candles from Raneaux and Umbra's side of the room were snuffed out. This
now left the fireplace casting light. Umbra approached the sleeping man's side
of the room with caution, his eyes constantly trained on the figure. As he passed the kitchen servery to snuff out the
candle upon it, he had forgotten to wet his fingers in his overly concerned
state. His slight reaction to the pain was enough to wake the gentleman up and
in the few seconds it took for him to become fully alert, Umbra had hid back around the corner near the door
and Raneaux was shoved into the spotlight.
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