As the mysterious woman drew back her hood, Rhaedin immediately noticed a hint of elven characteristics in her face. Yet as she searched the red head's face, she also noticed something that she hadn't seen in a long while. The woman had Cherod lineage. Zal cut short the scene by telling Angel, as she had introduced herself, that he cared not who she was, or if she had a guardian, as long as she held no intention to kill them. He departed from their group, adding that he was going to find his bed.

Even after Zal's departure, Rhaedin had remained behind to survey the group. She felt no need to speak at the moment, she would assert her power only if the situation demanded it. Instead she turned her attention to Sevine, and watched the witch perform the sacred burial rites for the dead. She had seen this done many times on her travels, the dead were treated with great care and respect, no matter what life that individual led. All should be lain to rest with dignity, it was a noble idea that the majority of healers in Angard adhered to. It was no different with Sevine.

Rising up from the ground, Sevine looked to Erahja who had come to assist her. While the group had circled around the newcomer, Sevine had built a modest brushpile upon which she had moved the bodies. It was a long rectangular pile of dried sticks and twigs, grass, and dead plants. Now the corpses of their foes lay upon the woodstock, and it was here that Sevine revealed her intentions with her burial rites. "Watch your hands..." Sevine cautioned her companion, the Rakasha. Sevine stood at the base of the pile and tipped her head back slowly, up to the sky still dark with night, but faintly growing lighter by each passing second. Dawn was approaching.

"Sarmon, ruler of death, king of war, I ask that you guide these souls into the Void, so that they will not wander this land lost." The witch dropped her head, tucking it in to her chest and closed her eyes. She pulled her hands in beneath her chin, and cupped them together before she whispered words almost inaudible, "[i]Duva[/i]." A small ball of fire formed in her hands. The fiery orb floated, hovering above the flesh of her palms. Sevine could feel the heat of the small orb, it pleasantly warmed her hands, but this was not the purpose in which she needed to use the flames. Kneeling down, she released the fire orb upon the brush pile and watched. The fire spread slowly, eating its way higher. Sevine's hair reflected the light from the fire, shimmering bright like copper.

In Angard, every body in which a soul cohabitates, must be properly lain to rest, either through burial, or cremation, by doing this, the souls of the dead are sent to the Void, an eternal resting place. All souls travel here, or at least according to Angardian religion, after bodily death. There is no distinction between heaven or hell. Souls that are still in the realm of the living are believed to upset the balance and flow of life. Many witches, such as Sevine, are hired to "cleanse" homes, or sometimes, villages, where plagues, famine, or war have occured and where people have died. Of course Sevine knew this, it was what she learned. Everything she knew came from her grandmother. Without her, Sevine though darkly, she would not be here, setting fire to corpses of men and some women, who had attacked her. Her gaze had been intently locked upon the flames of the growing fire, when she realized that Elrithian had called to her.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she could see Elrithian standing next to Orion. She could tell by the way he stood that he possessed an abdominal wound. She started off for Orion, and saw him smooth his mask that he used to cover a portion of his face. How strange.. When Sevine neared him, she asked him with an observant tone. Her eyes ran over him, from head to toe, investigating visually to see if there were any other ailments he felt readily. "What troubles you? Tell me what causes you the greatest pain." Her weathered-blue eyes lock upon Orion's. They were golden like Rhaedin's, was he an elf too? Or half? Sevine had met only one half-elf before. His name was Tobias Gwylin. And he was a scandalous thief who had tried to break into her apothecary back home. He hadn't expected the witch to be clever enough to create her own alarm system, and particularly one that used magical wards...exploding fire wards...

After Sevine ended her rites of burial for their slain foes, Rhaedin turned back. She spotted the man in iron armor and watched him kneel down beside Angel. He introduced himself as De and offered his hand towards her. Rhaedin smiled softly at the polite gesture. Angard was notorious for men who adhered to a code of some sort. Whether it was a code of logic, honour or chivalry, it was present in the societal circle of men. The captain headed back to the Drearie Ponde Inn. As she strolled through the field, Rhaedin found it odd that she wasn't bothered about returning to a building where a large amount of deaths had recently occurred. Not that she was fond of it either... She needed to report back to Mathias, to inform him that the bodies had been taken care of properly.