[center][h3]Frenzy Plant – Inquest at Belka[/h3]
[@liferusher] [@Caits] [@oblivion666] [@raijinslayer] [@lunarlors34][@zarkun][@hatakekuro][/center]

Most of the guild recognized the funeral procession as a grim and serious affair, and drew quiet and still in respect for the literal and metaphorical passing.  One soldier, however, allowed his impulsiveness to drive him to various hasty conclusions, and General Sanders found much displeasure in the declaration.  Enma’s words drew looks not just from the nearby cleric, but from the morose funeral-goers as well, not filled with hostility, but with an indignant unhappiness.  The cleric’s gaze lingered the longest, the bemusement obvious on his face.  As far as he knew, the only business this mercenary company had in Belka was to stay for a day, refuel, and depart.  What was this about infection and searching?  

Sanders did not reply to either Enma or Damian, though his did appreciate the Blade’s discretion.   The near-outburst of Argus did, however, require his attention.  [color=8F9779]”I suggest that you do just that then, Mr. Leandros.”[/color] he murmured, managing to make a quiet and unassuming tone rather imperious.  [color=8F9779]”I recall specifically requesting that nobody flaunt their magic while here.  Kilo will accompany you.”[/color]  Hearing his name, the huge warrior gave Argus a slight nod, and slipped toward the back of the group to leave.

As the two melted away through the crowd of soldiers, another figure approached.  The portly cleric appeared to have made up his mind about the visitors, and with the departure of the funeral procession made his way over in earnest.  Singling out the man at the front he recognized as the leader, he told him, “If you’re havin’ concerns about some kind-a sickness, please don’t be alarmed.  The ashes what just passed belonged to poor Singed Willard, Belka’s only pyromancer.  Last night his little hut by the cliffside caught fire and collapsed with him inside.  It’s a mighty sorrowful affair; he were a kind and godly soul.  Anyone who saw his amber charm knew that a fine young man was comin’ their way.”  The solemnity on the cleric’s face did not pass, but he at least attempted a smile to seem personable.  “Anyway, enough about that.  Lemme show ya folks a good spot to set up camp.  We got a little inn in Belka, but it’s sure not big enough for the lot of ya.  If ya got any question ya might like to ask, Evgeny is at the schoolhouse just next to the pens.”  By the way the cleric spoke, he expected the soldiers to be at least passingly familiar with ‘Evgeny’—perhaps either the farmer woman or the nobleman who greeted Frenzy Plant just a moment ago.

Giving a slight bow, the cleric began to walk in the opposite direction of the graveyard, subtly mindful of the spikes on his walking club.