[b]Gideon - Cavanar Cavern[/b] Gideon watched as Empie tried a stealthy approach for the desserts, chuckling as evidence of her sugar-crazed ingestion began to leave their mark. “You’re lemon-faced, matey.” He set his goblet of wine down and leaned across the table with a napkin in hand. With as much care a potter would to fine porcelain, he gently ran the cloth across her lips, then dabbed at the spill on her nose. Gideon then expressed an exaggerated look of shock, pointing at her like he just found gold. “Oh, there you are! I didn’t recognize you with all of that cake on your face.” He sat back down and took another swig of his wine, feeling the heat from the dying hearth fire, content at the warmth they both provided him. After a week’s worth of rigorous training, it was refreshing to finally relax, kick back, and enjoy the night. Such pleasures should never be taken for granted, Gideon always said. Some, more than others. Empie’s body language shifted toward a more seductive pose, and Gideon read right through her devilish charm. He was a half-demon, after all. "Gidey-kins...Gideeeeeeyyyyyy....did you bring me a present?" Oh how he cringed at the nickname she gave him. Still, he smiled attentively as he motioned for the leather bag he brought tonight’s dinner in. “Funny you ask that, Empie,” Gideon grinned, admiring her spirit, amongst other things. “While the view is quite spectacular from where I’m sitting, there’s no need for that song and dance quite yet.” He momentarily broke his gaze from her ruby-eyed stare to dig through the leather rucksack. One-by-one, he took out three cloth-wrapped objects and placed them on an empty space on the table. Each cloth cover was dyed in different colors. The red wrapping contained a small sapphire pendant, which he handed over to Empie. The yellow one was for Kucing, which held a citrine-colored ring, and the green wrapped present was for Sel. That one contained an empty stack of bound parchment with a quill and small capsule of ink. “I know I’ve been quite the handful as of late, and by no means is this a foolish attempt to buy your friendships like some Afron Bazaar…” His words fell into silence until all that was heard were the crackling embers of the hearth, and the faint buzzing from the will-o-wisp lanterns. “Consider it a token of my appreciation.” Gideon spoke no more on the matter. [i] Oh by the horns of my father, how he would set me ablaze if he saw me now.[/i] It was moments like this where Gideon was glad that Oathsworn was nowhere in sight. He would never hear the end of it. "Oh...and where's your grumpy shadow?" Speak of the beast himself. “Most likely annoying someone, or getting annoyed himself.” Gideon shrugged. --- [center]***[I]The following day...[/I]***[/center] [b]Oathsworn - City Center[/b] “What heresy.” The white-haired knight spat in disgust by the torrent of side-show performances that circled about him. Overhearing gossip from The Boar’s Head tavern the night before had warned him of today’s festivities, but he was still taken aback by its indecency. “Look at you fools! Parading around like cattle. Pleading the elder gods for slaughter!” Oathsworn couldn’t understand how anyone could celebrate the end of rain. In his culture, sky droplets were a divine blessing from the deities of Raklagi. He was taught to embrace the element as a means of washing away the bloodshed; to let it water the earth, so that the ancestors buried in its mantle could quench their war thirst. The rain represented salvation to his kind, and it was blatantly apparent to Oathsworn, that these Gandryll fools did not want to be saved. “No need for such a temper!” A little man with a painted caricature mask tilted his head to the side, staring at Oathsworn with deep set eyes. The scene caused a crowd to gather, some smiling as if aware of what would happen next. “No more rain makes everything better!” By some play of sorcery in Oathsworn’s mind, the man raised his mask just high enough to allow a bright flame to spew from his mouth, igniting like a fire snake that wisped into the sky, before arcing off into the distance. The crowd erupted in applause. Oathsworn was not entertained. “A witch is among us!!!” Oathsworn buried the knuckles of his right hand into the man’s face, shattering his mask in the process. The performer crumpled to the ground with both hands raised in defense, but Oathsworn couldn’t bring himself to continue on with such a weakling. “When you die a failure, I will be there to unbury your corpse and feed your entrails to Algrati, The Fanged Savant! Master of The Iron Berserkers of Ardripoor, so that some piece of you will know true valor-“ A sudden explosion shook Oathsworn’s core, and for a moment he thought the witch had summoned a fire demon to vanquish him. The street was in chaos with people running and screaming in a frenzied panic. He turned to a plume of fire engulfing the front side of a building and grinned. Oathsworn puffed his chest and laughed as he pointed at the burning shop. “Look! Raklagi smites your evil doings! Do you still wish for the rain to go away blasphemers!? Do you!?” Just then, a familiar smell caught his full attention. Oathsworn stuck his nose in the air and picked up Gideon’s scent. [i]Oh, what have you done now?[/I] Oathsworn unsheathed his longsword at the site of eight Atropos soldiers, some with beasts, all closing in on the smoldering building. They were of the Nightshade Abbey, worshipers of an evil fanaticism, far more villainous than acolytes of drought. These men were not weaklings like the fire spitting clown. Oathsworn would feel no guilt disciplining the likes of [i]these[/I] heretics. He scraped a long nail that suddenly grew from his right index finger, running it across his cheeks as he murmured an inaudible mantra; small trickles of blood tearing from the slight wound. Without loud proclamation or a bold war cry, Oathsworn darted toward the nearest Atropos and brought his longsword down on the man’s shoulder. The blade slashed diagonally through his upper torso, then continued its downward arc out the other side of the Atropos, plunging into the beast he tamed, slaying them both in one swing.