Inull, with more than a hint of anger, was dragging his shrine along with him through the roads of Lun. Personally, he preferred Whitewater. It was much nicer weather, he figured. Here it was not cold. He could not feel the cold in his bones. In his armor, it was actually quite warm. How long had it been since that time at the shrine? Weeks? Months? He heard many people on his travels saying something about three days since “the Apocalypse”. Maybe something had happened during his time at the shrine. If this “Apocalypse” was linked to his time at the shrine, then that would mean that he had only spent three days, or maybe even less, travelling from Whitewater to Lun. Those numbers seemed wrong, especially since he was slow moving and stopped on occasion. But, he hadn’t stopped for more than what seemed a few minutes. He stopped thinking about it when the concept of time began to pull at that infinite nothing that lurked in his mind, threatening to devour his thoughts.

His thoughts began to linger elsewhere. The “guild hall”, a rather humble building, smaller than most that he saw here in Lun, had been empty, with no evidence of habitation. Had it been abandoned? Or had he checked in at the wrong time? This city was unpleasant, chaotic, filled with confusion. It had been present in Whitewater, too, but at least the cold in Whitewater was there to gnaw at their bones and fill them with purpose. Here, there was no such distraction, as far as he could see. He watched the ground intently, watching a large shadow dance over his own and many others. It was a flying beast. Chaotic. That’s all that he thought. When he saw that someone was actually [i]atop[/i] the beast, he scowled beneath his helmet. Chaotic.

The Shrine, following behind Inull, ground to a stop with him. There was a crowd, no, a line of children following a strange man. They were in Inull’s way, or at least, would have been if Inull actually had a destination. Stopping in his tracks was a nuisance for him, as it took some difficulty to get moving again. Pulling his shrine close to him, Inull used it as something to lean against. He watched the children marching, like slaves to auction. But they smiled, following obediently behind the strange man. Flowers rained down upon them, thrown from other children in the balconies adorning the buildings on the side of the home. Why were there so many flowers? Where did they come from?
The thought, again, pulled at the endless nothing that had devoured the times before the shrine. This made him uncomfortable and impatient. He needed to do something, lest he let that nothing gnaw at his very being. Grabbing his shrine with some effort, Inull pushed through the, to him, seemingly endless horde of children marching endlessly and obediently behind that strange man. As he pushed through the horde, he murmured a very brief and irritated “[b]Apologies.[/b]” To whatever small children he pushed aside. With his shrine grinding the road beneath and creating a terrible noise, Inull eventually found himself pushed through the horde of children. While Inull was usually a kind man, especially to children, he had little to no patience today. Everything seemed to pull at the endless nothing, trying to conjure images which did not exist.

He pulled the shrine along with him, his hand gripping it tightly. It screeched behind him whenever it ground its base against something underneath it. His banner sung happily when he walked, flapping happily against the oncoming wind. It was a rather amusing contrast to the way Inull walked. Each step he took was heavy and riddled with less than subtle hints of anger. With an unnatural amount of ease, Inull hoisted the shrine up and into the palms of both his hands, stepping onto the stairs that now tried to mock him and his shrine. Each step he took was now calm and calculated, firmly planted into the stone stairs, Inull not daring to move unless he was sure that he would not fall. It had happened in Whitewater. He had slipped and landed heavily on his back, while hugging the shrine tightly.

Inull was rather lost in the town of Lun. These stairs, as he had just discovered, lead nowhere. Well, nowhere of interest to him at least. There were a few benches here and there, but the truth was that Inull had no idea what this place was. With a sigh of discontent, he began to walk down the stairs, with even more caution than he had shown climbing up them. Each step was a waste of time. What if there were others? What if they sought him as he sought them? No, surely they would not waste their time doing such a thing. They would do whatever it was they were supposed to do. Inull grumbled, pulling up the “user interface”. He didn’t like that name. It sounded wrong. But he didn’t have a name to call it by, other than that.

All these names on this list were gray. What ties to the times before the shrine did they hold? It mattered little, but still the question did linger on his mind from time to time. But his gods had shown him that he must let go. Shaking his head and closing this “user interface”, he began his slow climb down the stairs again. This road lead directly back to the still-moving line of children. Were they just slow movers? Had they walked in a large circle? Was Inull fast? Were there infinite children in line? Inull was confused. But he showed more patience this time. He could afford to relax and to calm himself for now.

He’d leave Lun later. For now he was content with learning the city, in the event he ever returned to it. There was also the matter of determining where to head from here. Maybe he would return to Whitewater, where the cold brought him comfort. Or maybe he would continue searching for others of the Crusader Knights of the Western Lands and head to Ironhold instead. Maybe he’d visit one of the other cities instead. Digging in his bags, he eventually found what he was searching for, a primitive and crude map of the world. There was Whitewater, Lun, Ironhold, and then a few other markings that had been rubbed out by something. Looked to him like his options were limited.
Still watching the children pass by, Inull pushed his shrine to a wall and sat at its base, studying the map. He earned more than a few dirty looks from people all around, presumably due to his earlier action of pushing through the line of children. As he sat, studying the map and occasionally glancing up at the children, he felt the pain of hunger set in. Looking about, he spotted a small tavern, named “[i]The Best Tavern In Lun[/i]” Wait no, that wasn’t the name, that was a sign. The name was actually “[i]The Yum Heart[/i]”. Maybe that was actually just another sign, but Inull cared little. Standing up and grabbing the shrine, he meandered to the door and found that the shrine could not fit. He pulled and pushed and tried desperately to fit it in, but alas, it was too big to breach the tight doorway. After some contemplation, Inull left the shrine in the doorway and wandered over to the counter. It wasn’t that far from the Shrine, but after maybe ten steps, Inull felt ill. His armor suddenly grew significantly heavier and his steps were now much lighter and careless. He almost tripped at one point, in fact. Finally reaching the counter, Inull reached into his bag and pulled out a meager sum of gold, the last of his reserves actually, and threw the pieces on the counter, stammering out a “Whatever this’ll get me, get me that.” The tavern-keeper brought out a small plate of what seemed to be some bread and a small glass of what Inull assumed to be ale. Eating the tasteless meal and drinking the tasteless ale with haste, Inull slumped back to the shrine in the doorway.

Upon touching its handle, he felt instantly renewed. Letting out a large sigh, he pushed the shrine out and back into the road, where he sat on it and happily watched the line of children pass by, still. He sat there humming one of the Templar’s Prayers, this one a dirge. He was no musician or singer, so the hum was rather dull and tuneless. But it kept his mind occupied. He tapped his fingers lightly against his leg, perhaps stirred on by the leader of the children’s enchanting tune. Maybe that’s why the line seemed endless. The children were definitely occupied by it and people seemed to be enjoying the display. It was rather amusing. Had Inull a talent for music, he would consider joining, but Inull had no knowledge of music save the innate knowledge everyone might claim to have ownership of. Inull sat still against the base of the shrine, drumming his fingers without any melody against his leg.