Quinn sat on the antique sofa with one leg resting over the other and his chin supported by his left palm. He looked unamused as two tall mercenaries stood beside him, watching as Quinn questioned the noble before him.
"I swear I don't know what you're talking about" the noble nervously said as sweat began to excrete from his pores. Quinn rolled his eyes as he sat up, gently reaching for the Book of Ansgar he had tucked away under his cloak. "Then swear on this" he said as he stood up and extended the Book of Ansgar toward the noble. "Swear you are not a man who brazenly dons the features of a woman under the guise of night." Anger started to surface in Quinn's voice, who would listen to the murmurs and whispers in the street and knew of what the man would do when he thought no one was watching. "If you lie not only will you burn in the flames of the afterlife, but also in mine."
The noble took a big gulp of air as he began to visibly shake. "Please..." he pleaded, "I am a hardworking man who loves his family. I have wronged no one." Quinn stared at the man coldly before suddenly backhanding the noble across the face and quickly reaching for his loaded pistol to shoot the man between the eyes. Shrieks from members of the household polluted the room. Quinn turned his attention towards the wife of the noble, who sat on her knees with tears rolling down her face. "Arrest her for harboring and enabling this heathen" Quinn ordered the two mercenaries. "Who knows if she is worthy of salvation" he barked as his men carried the hysterical woman into the street.
Quinn cleaned his pistol and tucked away his Book of Ansgar before following his men outside. Once outside, the party began to head towards the church where, along the way, citizens of Reajh could see first hand what lengths Quinn would go to free the world of sin. Quinn walked with his chest out proudly and would glance at the citizens the group passed by. He smiled to himself, believing he did a tremendous service to Connloath--and the world--as the woman he had arrested continued to wail and sob.
Just up ahead, an interesting figure appeared that Quinn could not ignore. "Father Griffin, be careful" cautioned one of the mercenaries.
The figure in question alone was not so very interesting, but rather the hyena that walked along beside them.
The person was a teenage girl, short read hair, green eyes, most likely Adelan, and she was looking sadly at the sobbing woman, tears running down her own face as the man standing next to her told her what had happened within the house. Then she glanced at Quinn, and her eyes sparked, and that was most likely what had the mercenary warning Quinn.
She continued to watch him, curiosity in her eyes as well as some anger, but mostly pity, though she didn't yet approach the man.
Quinn stopped momentarily to study the hyena. The beast is well-behaved...
He clenched his fist tightly before letting it relax. For a wild animal to be so tame in a bustling city, and for it to cause the guards no worry, startled Father Griffin. Surely it must be magic. To him, mages and magic-users were one thing, but to so boldly display an act magic--or at the very least what he perceives to be magic--was infuriating. However, he could not confront the owner of the animal. He had to deal with his current prisoner.
Quinn continued forward with his subordinates as he made way to the First Arthurian Church of Reajh. It was a relatively new church and denomination of Ansgarism that Quinn's mentor championed in recent years. Several decades ago, a Cardinal by the name of Loghain Arthur began writing and speaking about more fundamental extremist views, as he believed that it was Ansgar's will to not only purge all magic from the world, but all sin as well. He advocated for churches to have a stricter authority over the people, and to completely eradicate all those who possess magic and major sins who are beyond salvation. Soon a following emerged within the church and outside of it, as devout believers flocked towards the Cardinal , and soon Bishop Alexi Dupont--Quinn's mentor. The Civil War that began proved to be very beneficial to Arthurianism, as hatred for magic deepened and government attention focused elsewhere, allowing the church to act freely. As a result, priests like Father Griffin began hiring mercenaries with the blessing of the church in order to continue its war against magic and sin.
"Turn up this corner and shadow that girl with the hyena" Quinn softly ordered one of his men once they were several meters past the target. "Report back after you find out where she lives, her name, and any evidence of magic if possible." The mercenary lightly nodded as he obeyed.
Kirl did not, obviously, hear the man's order to his men, but all the same, the instructions were unneeded, because as soon as the people started to disperse, she discreetly followed him into the church.
It was quiet inside, and while some people gave her and Oax glances, she ignored them and walked up to the man.
As Quinn entered the church, he ordered the mercenary to take the woman to the cells beneath the structure. She would be interrogated further before the priests decide what they should do with her.
With his back facing the main doorway into the church, the mercenary who was tasked to follow the girl ran up to Father Griffin and whispered in his ear about how she had decided to come to the church herself.
Quinn turned around to face the girl as his brows arched downwards slightly. This mage has the audacity to enter my church? He was certainly enraged, however he could not display his anger in a place that was, to him, so holy. "What?" he said to the girl coldly.
Kirl noticed the man's obvious annoyance at her approach, but she crossed her arms at his question. Despite the tears before, there was no trace of them now, and her expression was purely neutral. Oax, similarly, just looked up at the man, her dark eyes taking him in.
"I simply wanted to ask what crime was committed and why that woman's husband was executed," murdered, Kirl thought, but she didn't say it. "And why there was no trial."
Except in the form of self-defense, Kirl saw any killing without a proper and legal trial as murder, and even then, sometimes the cause was wrong.
Quinn stepped forward closer to the girl until they were about an inch apart.
"And who are you to question the will of Ansgar?" He looked at her with a straight face, but was boiling up inside. Such insolence!
He waved his mercenaries to take their leave as the churchgoers began to watch the incident unfold. Father Griffin could not do anything bold--not with zero information on the girl. Although his strength laid in the fear of his followers, the trust of the public was equally necessary.
Kirl did not back down, and kept eye contact with the man as he spoke.
"I know nothing of you," she said calmly. "I am simply asking a question, or does Ansgar prefer to keep his followers from knowledge about their God and his disciples?"
As she spoke, Kirl decided not to express that she was quite neutral about gods and goddesses, that she neither denied their existence nor worshipped them. It seemed that if she said that to this man, some very bad things could happen.
Quinn grunted. "We must follow Ansgar's will, not question it." He ignored her question, mainly because he didn't understand it. The woman's crimes were obvious to him, and as such he assumed everyone else thought so as well.
Father Griffin crossed his arms as he looked around the room. The church's interior was made of stone and marble, with drapes containing the emblem of Connlaoth hanging all over and glass stained depictions of important events during Ansgar's life. Quinn and the girl were currently standing in front of the altar and podium that faced rows of benches currently occupied by several worshippers.
"You are quite bold. What is your name, girl?" He thought he could use this opportunity to investigate the girl and see if she truly has traces of magic in her. Perhaps the public display of this would cause followers to strengthen their faith.
"You didn't answer my question," Kirl said, ignoring his request for her name, and in that appearing even bolder still. "What crimes did the woman's husband commit? And why is she being punished for his actions?"
Kirl knew already that she did not like this man, but she tried to keep an open mind about all things, including what seemed to be an unjust killing.
"A man who does not dress as such is a blight upon the world." Quinn stepped away from the girl and in front of the podium, where he sifted through parchments that were laid on top of it. "He angered Ansgar by donning the clothing his wife should wear."
He then stopped and made eye contact with the girl. "Anyone who says or does nothing about the sinner enables the sinner. Perhaps she can find salvation and redemption, but for now she is a menace to Ansgar's followers." Father Griffin's mouth then curled up into a crooked smile. "Tell me, why are you so interested in these heathens?"
Kirl kept her face expressionless as the man spoke, but inside she was horrified that a man would be killed simply because he cross-dressed!
The girl could, though her connection with the hyena, feel that Oax felt the same way she did, but neither showed any signs.
At his smile and question, Kirl crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow. "Why am I interested? I'm a traveler, and like to know the facts when a man is killed near me for no apparent reason at the time, and his wife is dragged off."
There was no menace in her voice, but just the smallest hint of sarcasm.
Father Griffin took a quill and dipped it in ink before writing on a loose piece of parchment. "And why does a stranger's life matter to you so much?"
On the back wall of the room was a massive and intricate organ that seemed ancient. It was in fact constructed by Saint Cain, who would use the organ to congregate people before mass. At its current state, however, it is only a shell of its once great power which could transmit sound miles away. Above the organ were glass stained windows that depicted Saint Cain. At each end of the back wall were wooden doors that led further into the church. From one of the doors, the mercenary that previously held the wife of the noble entered the room, walking up next to Father Griffin.
"Because all life matters to me," Kirl said, continuing to stay calm and collected as she spoke. "Because all life matters."
She was quite interested in seeing how the man would react to her response.
"The lives of the wretched do not." Quinn's voice grew louder as he became more irritated. "Those that sow the seeds of sin do not belong in this world. The shepherds that lead the good man astray do not deserve to even breathe."
The mercenary that had stepped next to Father Griffin now drew closer to the girl. "Cease harassing the samaritans of this holy place at once, or else" he said as he stood tall in front of her.
"Harassing?" Kirl asked, looking the mercenary right in the eye and not backing down. "Who's harassing? I am simply asking questions."
She looked back to the other man, now ignoring the mercenary. "Can you not attempt to right those who you see as sinners? Do you even try to respect other's ideas and not make it your right to decree what is right or what is wrong? Or if that's what you insist upon doing, don't you even try to help those who have been led astray? Sometimes a bad deed or a sin is something someone does because they know no better, or they believe they had no choice. Isn't it your job, as a follower of Ansgar, to at least attempt to teach these people the right way?"
Kirl's true beliefs were to respect others beliefs, as long as they weren't harming others, but she didn't think this man would share her views.
Quinn hesitated to dignify the girl with a response. With his voice shaking in anger and his fists tightly clenched, he stepped closer to the girl. "You dare judge my methods? Only Ansgar has that authority you insolent whelp." In a fit of anger he quickly drew his pistol and took aim to shoot into the girls chest. The church goers that were attempting to worship in peace gasped in shock, however the priest did not care at this point. His rage began to take over.
Kirl could see this man was about to explode, and her hand drifted towards her belt, where two long daggers were sheathed.
Then he did. Explode, that is.
With his gun pointed straight at her chest, Kirl's hand gripped her dagger, but before she could even draw the weapon, Oax was leaping forward, her jaws about to close on the side of the barrel of the gun, hoping to pull it down and out of the man's hand.
Quinn released his grip from the pistol as soon as the hyena grabbed hold of it. He leaped backward where he then held his wrist, even though no contact was made. "Insufferable wench." He seethed with anger as his breaths drew heavy. "Arrest her and put this animal down for assaulting a church official in this holy place" he barked to the mercenary.
The mercenary obliged and inched closer carefully, preparing to fight the priest.
Kirl took a step back, but did not yet draw her weapons. "Assaulting?" she said, and her voice was quite calm, but inside she was angry at this man. For killing that man and imprisoning his wife, for how he treated her, but most of all, how he had ordered Oax killed. Kirl could take almost any number of insults to her own person, but not to her companion.
"I did not assault you, sir," she said, her tone level. "You were the one who drew a gun on me, not the other way around."
Quinn grunted. Attacking a girl in public would hurt his reputation, as much as he wanted to jail her. "Get out!" he boomed as he stormed off into his office.
The mercenary continued to stare down the animal until Quinn was out of the main room. By this time, the majority of worshippers had left the church, save a couple. "My name is Jacques" the mercenary said as he sheathed his weapon. "I could use your help."
Kirl looked after Quinn as he stormed away, slight amusement on her face, as well as a sort of sadness.
She frowned at the mercenary when he spoke to her. "And why would you need my help? It seems your boss has had enough of me."
Jacques chuckled at that assertion. "My boss" he mockingly repeated. "He's nothing but a delusional, power hungry hypocrite." His eyes shifted to each side, to see if anyone of importance was within earshot. "I cannot say more right now, but if you are interested meet me at The Green Tongue, 10 blocks south of here. My friends and I are having our weekly meeting." Jacques said that as he walked away, following where Quinn had left, hoping that he would see the girl again soon.
Well, this Jacques didn't seem to like his employer very much, and Kirl nodded as he spoke before he walked away.
_____________
Kirl didn't know what time she was supposed to meet the mercenary at The Green Tongue, but it was getting late in the day as it was, so the teenage girl made her way to the place. Entering, some people gave her, and especially Oax, some dirty looks, but she ignored them and found a table. She sat down, Oax sitting next to her, leaning against her leg, and waited.
As dusk settled in, Father Griffin began penning letters to several church officials; including Bishop Dupont.
Your Eminence; it seems that the sins of mankind are mocking me. Today I was assaulted and chastised for carrying out my duty--all by a witch who controlled a rabid beast with magic. However, I could not retaliate given that the situation occurred within our holy church and would disturb our devoted brothers and sisters. I pray to Ansgar that this witch be put to justice, but I humbly request your assistance.
As Quinn completed the letter to the Bishop, he relaxed in his wooden chair as he reflected on the events of the day. In front of him was a large wooden desk positioned at the back wall of the small room. The room itself did not have an impressive decor, with just a couple of glass stained windows, a fern at the corner of the room, and several bookshelves lining the cobblestone walls containing important documents. He sighed as he gently shut his eyes, attempting to get a little bit of rest.
"Hey girl!" shouted Jacques from across the tavern. He was now dressed in ordinary street clothes as he stood up from a small table containing three other men. "Come sit with us" he beckoned with a cheery smile.
Kirl stood up from her chair when Jacques called to her. She walked over to the table, and she appeared relatively relaxed, but she was really quite alert, and ready to defend herself if need be. This could all be a trick that this mercenary set up with his employer. After all, if the priest wanted her dead, it would be must easier to have her killed here, in some random tavern, rather than in the middle of a church. It would just be brushed off as a everyday brawl and no one would ask any questions.
"So, what;s this all about?" Kirl asked as she slid onto a seat at the table. Oax sat down next to her, the hyena's bright, alert eyes scanning the four men before them.
"Let me get you a drink" the mercenary said as he waved to a server, not knowing how old the girl was. The bar was quite crowded at the moment, but Jacques' voice was naturally a little bit louder than the average person's. Amongst the heaps of inebriated, obnoxious men and women Jacques' voice still stood out against the rest. "I was quite impressed with your showing at the church today" he said to the girl as he chuckled. "I was just telling my buddies here about it." He looked at the small group of men next to him, who were all fixated on the hyena that sat several feet from them.
"...Anyway, we could use your help. We have been trying to bring down that vile priest and his overzealous church for months now." He looked to his comrades once again, who were still visibly uncomfortable with the hyena in the proximity. Jacques stood up and walked behind the man immediately to his side, placing his hand gently on him. "This is Karl" he said as he introduced the crimson haired, pale man, who gave a light smirk. "He and I have been working as mercenaries undercover in order to get close to Quinn." He then stood in between the two other men. One had bronze skin and white hair while the other seemed to be completely hairless, whether by choice or by genetics was unknown. "This is Harun and Kayle" Jacques said of the respective men. "Harun is one of the cooks at this tavern, and Kayle... deals in a less savory business." Jacques sat back down as he looked at the girl with a light smile. "Now that we've introduced ourselves, what's your name?"
Elsewhere, Father Griffin had finished sending his letters, and was now on his private nightly patrol. Where he was headed he was not sure, but he kept his eyes peeled for any and all sin.
"No thank you," Kirl said to the man when he offered a drink. "I would rather be completely focused for this."
She, of course, was aware of the other men watching Oax, but she ignored them, and listened as Jacques told her of what he and the other men were trying to do. She hoped that what they were saying was true, but she couldn't trust them, not yet anyway. She nodded when Jacques introduced the other men.
"I'm Kirl," she said. "And this is Oax," she motioned to the hyena. "Do you have a plan, or have you just started with your mission?"
"Oh we have a plan." The man leaned in closer to the girl, and shifted his eyes from side to side before continuing. "The only reason that the church has been able to persecute whoever it wants is because the government doesn't care. With all the mage business going on the church is doing a huge favor to the government. We need to get the city and the government to align against them, any means necessary."
He paused before continuing. "Blackmail, murder, thievery--we put our morals aside yes, but it is for the greater good."
Quinn sat on a bench in a small, local park. The candlelit street lights littered the sidewalk before him as he sat there and thought. All life matters to you, huh? He wiped the barrel of his pistol as he calmed down and remembered the girl. And you think as Ansgar's servant I am to teach away the sin? In the corner of Quinn's eye he could see a young street urchin, who must have been at least 10 years old, approaching slowly. But perhaps you have a point. Who truly does know Ansgar's will? Was he vigilant about the temptations of magic, or insecure about his powerlessness against it? The boy drew closer, who was visibly hungry and weak. How can any of us pretend to know his will? Who are we to judge those we do not know in the same breath that we revere and worship those we do not know? Perhaps we once needed Ansgar and his saints to protect ourselves and instill hope in our lives. Perhaps we no longer need that. The boy finally made his way in front of Father Griffin. He must have said something, but Quinn could not hear it. He was too deep in his own thoughts.
Or perhaps there was no true Ansgar. A myth told by our fathers to disparage the sinner and fear the unknown. Quinn loaded his pistol. Perhaps he was no man, just an idea. Quinn raised his pistol forward. Perhaps I am Ansgar. Quinn fired a bullet straight into the young boy's head. He wiped the pistol with the loose handkerchief before slowly getting up and making his way back to the church.
Kirl pursed her lips, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.
"I agree that what the church is doing is wrong," she said. "But if you stoop to murder aren't you just as bad as they are? I mean, killing people because of what they believe? I don't kill unless absolutely necessary, and this isn't going to change that."
That was a nice shot Janne said as he stepped out of the darkness with a scripture is his left hand. What i'm wondering is why you shot him Janne said as he walked armor clanking as he walked close to the man. He then got on his knees and said a prayer and with that the dead boy's body had vanished into a holy pillar of light. Janne then introduced himself My name is Janne, pleasure to meet you father Quinn He said
Jacques scoffed. The smile that had been occupying his face now receded. "So you'd condemn hundred, thousands of lives just to save a few? Listen here little girl, people like you who think they're so high and mighty are weak." Kayle, the bald man on the far side of the table, began to smile suspiciously. "And here I thought you actually cared about the well being of this city" Jacques said, growing in anger. "Leave" he demanded, as Kayle got up as well.
Quinn snorted in amusement. Someone dares use magic in front of Ansgar himself. "It was a nice shot, would you like a taste of it first hand?" No one else was nearby this park, luckily, as the man would swiftly be attacked and arrested should he be seen to use magic in public. Quinn could see that he was well equipped with armor, so confronting him would not be the best idea. However, he had the protection of the city should a situation arise. Magic was more hated than he was. "I see you know my name." He winced slightly. He was Ansgar now, and Father Griffin no longer. However, to openly say that could be blasphemous.
You misunderstand Janne said as he pacedI saw what that girl did in your church today awfully ballsy i must say to do that infront of your congregation He started to pace slower Dont you think it is a bit odd that the blasphemers are just now starting to question you?He asked the man I know i would He saw Quinn starting to get agitated Ill cut right to the chase I believe there are some people who would like to see you die, some quite close to you actually Janne now took a coin out of his pocket Think of me as an ally, someone to level the playing field Janne smirked under his helmet
Kirl didn't move, but Oax let out a low growl as the men stood. "You can think that, I guess," she shrugged. "But simply because I don't want to kill doesn't mean I don't want to help you or the people who are being targeted by the church. There must be another way to go about this, a way more effective than killing. Wouldn't it be better to find a way to turn the people against the church instead of killing the leaders of the church? If we were to just kill them, the citizens would see us as the bad guy, and perhaps even try to stop us, but if we were to find a way to make the church look bad in the people's eyes, they wouldn't support the religion anymore, and the church would fall on its own."
"You're so naive" Jacques said with disdain. "Ansgar will always be a part of our lives, but to venerate him to a point of extremism is dangerous to us all." He slammed his palms against the table. "It's either kill or be killed now. The church versus us all. You're either with us or against us." He clenched his fists as the tavern patrons continues to be rowdy and lively.
Quinn tossed the coin across the park. "I don't need nor want your help you insect." Quinn walked away, confused if the recent encounter was a dream or real life. Regardless he felt slightly unnerved. An ally? I have my own followers, my own church, my own religion. Quinn wiped his pistol off as he returned to the church.
"I do not mean make the people hate Ansgar," Kirl said. "But to make them hate the methods which some use to preach his word or to uphold his laws. Ansgar and religion is not a bad thing, but some of the things done in the name of Ansgar and in the name of religion are horrible, and that's what we should try and make the people see."
Janne laughed and threw a small piece of parchment at his feet.If you ever change your mind go to that address. I look forward to seeing what you do next. After "IT" happens And like Janne vanished
Jacques sighed as he clenched the bridge of his nose with his two fingers. He plopped down in his seat as the two quiet men next to him watched. "Forgive me; you're right. I seemed to have lost sight of what is truly good and evil lately. The church is not bad, it's just Griffin and that Arthurian church. But with the elites in their pocket and the fear of magic, they are difficult to stop." He paused before gathering himself and stared Kirl in the eyes. "We call ourselves the Seraphim. We are ordinary people who want to see the violence and hate stop." He looked around the tavern. "Everyone here is a Seraphim. Not all know they are, and not all actively fight against Arthurianism. But all of us reject hate and bigotry." He reached his hand out to her. "Join us."
Quinn stopped in his tracks as the man disappeared. You dare use magic in my presence and call yourself an ally. As he took another step forward, he felt his foot strike something light and fragile. He looked down and found a small parchment, which he picked up and glanced at before tucking away in his coat pocket. But maybe you could be useful to me.
Kirl nodded at his apology, she understood, and she smiled, leaning forward when he asked her to join them.
"I'll help you," she said, taking his hand and shaking it briefly before sitting back. "So, do you have a plan?"
Evelyn was walking down the dark street deep in thought. She was troubled by the fact that she had gotten nowhere during the meeting with the slave trader and she wondered if she'd ever return home without being empty handed. One of these days or nights, I'll find something. I have to. she thought, brushing loose strands of long brown hair from her face. BANG! Evelyn jumped as she snapped back to reality. The gunshot's loud report made her stop in her tracks. She waited, listening, but the night was silent once again, except now it was eerily so. She knew what one shot meant, someone was just executed, and it was likely another mage. Evelyn knew this stuff shouldn't be bothering her so much, she had heard quite a few gunshots recently due to the civil war ramping up. It will only get worse... I'm losing time. She fingered the gold locket around her neck nervously before it occured to her that she should get moving. Glancing around quickly, she continued on her way back to the small shack she called home, only this time at a slightly faster pace.
"We need to gain the trust of the people" Jacques replied. "Right now they're scared and confused, but if we could galvanize them by showing that we will not back down, we could avoid as much bloodshed as possible." He took a sip of his drink as he glanced at Kirl's chest briefly before locking eyes with her once more. "Meet me in front of this inn tomorrow afternoon." He got up along with his entourage and made his way towards the entrance of the tavern--it appeared he was heading home.
Father Griffin polished his pistol as he walked back towards the church, whistling an old folk song he had heard beggars sing and hum many times before. As he turned a corner, he noticed a figure walking at a brisk pace. Could this insect have heard? He tucked his gun away and began following the figure, while maintaining several meters behind.
Evelyn wasn't keeping an eye out for tails, as it didn't cross her mind that she might need to. A couple minutes of walking and a few turns later, she arrived at her home with an uninvited guest in tow. A chilly breeze swept along the road while the young woman fumbled with her keys, it's touch drew shivers and gave her goosebumps. Finally, she twisted the lock and opened the door, stepping inside.
Evelyn was eager to start the fire and get whatever rest she could before morning. She had a few clay pieces to sell and had high hopes they might turn her a good profit. She would probably need to go shopping for some more groceries as her small cupboard was running bare, and perhaps tomorrow she would find some free time to return to the slave auctions. These were the things that went through her mind, accompanied by the the feeling of sorrow she had grown so accustom to.
Putting her keys back in her pocket, Evelyn pushed the door backwards to shut it and hopefully block out the chilly night air.
Quinn followed the figure into a less affluent quarter of the city. He stayed back as he watched the figure methodically open and shut the door to their quaint shack, resting along a dimly lit and quiet street. He stared at the house the figure disappeared into for a moment, before settling down on a nearby wooden bench. Tucked away underneath the shadows cast down by the faint moonlight striking the other houses, Quinn relaxed and let his thoughts race.
Are creatures put on this world for no purpose?. The idea of living carefree disgusted him while the idea of not knowing a person's true intentions infuriated him. Existence without Ansgar is no existence worth existing. He continued to stare at the shack before impulsively rising up and walking towards it. For some reason he felt attracted to the home; it was small and sweet, not standing out from the ones adjacent to it. Though it is the home of one person, it isn't insignificant compared to the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lodgings in Reajh alone. Its purpose was simple, to provide shelter and comfort, yet its existence was meaningless compared to the world, in Quinn's eyes at least. "Why are you here" he mumbled to himself as he approached the shack.
With the door shut and Evelyn out of the chilly night air, she began to relax a little. She walked over to the small wood burning stove in the room's center and loaded it with a few logs and some tinder, grabbing the flint as she did. Next she knelt down and began working on lighting the fire, scraping the flint and casting sparks into the pile and occasionally blowing lightly on the embers. Once the fire caught she curled up in a wool bedroll on the floor, wrapping the covers around her. She looked out the small window to the stars in the night sky. Tomorrow would be a new day, with new opportunities. Evelyn only hoped they would work out this time around.
Quinn creeped up towards the door with his right fist clenched in his hand. He looked up at the sky, tracing the patterns of the stars briefly. He pulled his face back as he scrunched his face in disgust. In three quick successions, Quinn banged on the door with his clenched fist. He opened his palm and tucked away his pistol deeper into his holster.
As he waited for a response, he drew in his coat closer. The wind began to pick up and he only now realized how cold he was, having been out for several hours.
RAP RAP RAP! The sound made Evelyn jump. Who could that be at this time of night? She had a few acquaintances, some closer than others, but she never let them get too close. She definitely didn't know anyone who would come for a visit. Let alone at midnight. Evelyn cautiously got up and walked to the door, grabbing the handle. She realized she had forgotten to secure the door with the chain lock and quickly did so, then cracked open the door as far as the linked metal would allow.
"Hello Father." She said in a small voice, quickly recognizing the man's church robes and status. "What can I do for you?" Evelyn looked up at the taller man with wide eyes, she had never met him before. Her heart began to thump faster. What could this be about? she wondered frightfully, Did I do something that might have wronged the church? Her mind began to race. Thinking of all the recent mage executions and what she might have done to bring that onto herself. 5 months ago... No. Gods no they couldn't have possibly taken this long if it was that. She pushed the fearful thoughts from her mind. She hadn't done anything to warrant punishment from the church recently, but never the less she was still frightened by the priest's nighttime appearance.
Kirl couldn't help but notice the quick glance to her chest before Jacques met her eyes again and spoke. She nodded at his request but didn't get up as the men did so and moved towards the door. She scratched Oax behind her ear and leaned back in her chair, thinking.
She couldn't know whether or not these men could be trusted, they most likely couldn't be, but if they were truly aiming to do what they said they were, then helping them could be worth the risk.
"C'mon, Oax," the young woman stood up and started for the door, the hyena following. The tavern they had talked in had had a few rooms above to stay in, but Kirl knew that staying there could be dangerous. Better that the men, or the church, wouldn't know where she stayed.
She chose a small inn that was nestled between two larger establishments. As they entered Oax was given a few sideways glances, but they were allowed a room. Kilr locked, bolted, and chained the door before laying down, Oax curled beside her.
He stared at the girl for several seconds. Her face reminded him of the one that he had met earlier that had confronted him, however he did not feel as uneasy as he had before.
"Can I come in?"
He ignored her question and did not notice the anxiety that began to settle in her. Although the whole night his mind raced with thoughts of mortality and existence, Quinn was starting to feel more calm. Perhaps the cold got to him, or perhaps he just needed time to ease his inner tension. He could not remember the events from a few hours prior, when he had shot the boy and met the mage, only the words he was saying to himself. However, he likely would not have felt any remorse had he remembered anyway.
Evelyn took a moment to respond. He wanted in, of course he did, why else would he have knocked? Evelyn bowed her head in a nod and closed the door. The slide of the latch could be heard and it reopened, this time free of restraint. She stepped aside and held the door for the priest, silently watching him step in. Another breeze swept in and cut through her clothing, making Evelyn shiver as she quickly shut the door behind him.
She turned and watched her guest expectantly. Damp palms rubbed themselves dry on her legs and she tried to surpress her slight panic. She didn't even know what this was about yet, why should she be scared? Although the logic did little to actually calm her nerves
Quinn walked slowly, trudging his steps as if he was exhausted--and he was. He squeezed his temples and closed his eyes as a migraine developed. He had already forgotten where he was, and the girl whose house he had just stepped into.
He dragged himself towards a small chair, plopping himself down. He stared at the girl, which reminded him of his current position.
"Name."
"I- um, its Evelyn sir... Evelyn Warmhearth."
She stayed where she was in front of the door, then realized that acting so openly cautious could be easily considered suspicious. Taking a few steps toward the man sitting beside the small table, she grabbed her working stool and took a seat. Various sculpting tools and a few sketches lay on the table before her. It was where she would work when not using the pottery wheel in the corner. Taking her arm she swept the objects to the side causing a couple to get accidentally pushed over the edge. They clattered noisily to the worn wooden floor. She could pick them up later though, for now she brushed some of the dried clay dust from under her arms before resting them on the table. She didn't want him to think she was hiding anything and made sure to keep her hands in plain view.