[center]A Grand Day[/center] [b]Holy City of Angelia[/b] Tarkaras ran his hands along the soft, smooth skin of his sister's quite pregnant belly with a smile on his lips and awe in his eyes. He caressed her slowly, lovingly, tenderly. Then he felt it. A little bump. He held his hand over it and felt it again. “He's kicking” Monzcarro whispered as she placed her hand over her brother's scarred one. “He is well, strong, I can feel it”. She was exited, grinning with one side of her jaw. Tarkaras looked up at her, blue eyes meeting green behind which spoke much more than simple sibling affection. He could not deny his excitement and joy but nor could he deny the fear that was more than trepidation or nervousness at being a new father. She sensed the fear in him and tightened her hold in response. “He is strong” She repeated with utter conviction “I am not mother, he will live, Great Angela will see to that” Tarkaras lifted her left hand and kissed the top of it, then trailed kisses up her left arm until he sealed his lips with hers. They enveloped themselves with their white feathered wings and for a brief time they let themselves be overcome with the feeling of the moment, with the love they had for each other, with the dual excitement and fear of a child oncoming. The world was leagues away, unimportant and insignificant compared to the new life within Monzcarro. For now they simply were going to be a proper family. The moment was ended by a loud knock on the door. “Your Holiness, the expeditions await your address” The siblings pulled away from each other, Tarkaras stopping to give one last kiss on his wife's belly. “Be quick” Monzcarro said to him as he began to get himself dressed in his Holy garments. A soft white cotton shirt that fitted around his wings and white trousers both embroidered with gold thread, over this went a silver vest embroidered in gold. Then went on a long cloak, the hem of which just grazed the floor. Monzcarro took the role of an aide in helping her brother dress, buttoning up the shirt and vest on his back and setting the cloak around his wings. The cloak was dyed silver and more thoroughly embroidered with threads of gold, orange and red in vine-like patterns with roses branching off. Next came socks and soft silver leather boots that reached just under the knee which also had golden embroidery around it's edges. Then came embroidered cotton elbow gloves, the same hue of silver and embroidering of gold as the rest of the clothing. With the ensemble nearly complete there was only one last remaining object. Tarkaras scanned the luxurious room until he found it in his sister's hands. He smiled. She held the golden winged crown, worn by St.Angela herself. Monzacarro raised herself to the edge of the wide bed, the sheets which covered her now cascading away to reveal her in all her naked glory. Her deep red hair fell over her shoulders, over skin of pasty complexion scarred with wounds of duels past, over a body both enfeebled and strong. Tarkaras loved every bit of her he thought as he approached to kneel before her. She placed the winged crown upon his head and as she did so he made a quick peck on her right hand. “Eugh..” She pulled the twisted, talon-like appendage away. “Stop it, do not ruin this moment” Tarkaras rose and adjusted his clothing, giving her one last kiss on the lips. “I love you” She pushed him on towards the door “Go now, waste no time” Tarkaras opened the door to the private chambers and shifted to the side as a midwife and her apprentice and aides excused themselves past him. Also waiting outside was the Grand Cardinal of the Church of St.Angela, Virgillian Brash. He was a rotund and cheery fellow, his weight preventing him from achieving any sort of flight with the feathered wings on his back. However he was one who also knew the weight of responsibility. “Ready my lord?” He asked as Tarkaras lead the way. “It will be a grand day” The King replied. --------------------------- The crowd gathered en mass in the paved open square in front of the Grand Temple of Angela. It was a building that suited it's name Mizani thought as he gazed upon the brilliant, awe inspiring symbol of this land's faith. It was wide and tall, made of stone so white that it gleamed in the sunlight. There were a total of ten steeples at the front spaced in singles and doubles, between them and nestled into the face of the building were large, beautiful panes of coloured glass that depicted the Great Saint in many forms from the warrior that vanquished the dreaded dragon Rothdargar to the shepherd who lead her flock to salvation. They were beautifully coloured with yellow-golds for the saints' hair, silvery-whites for her dress and armour, greens and blues for the plains and sky in the background along with a multitude of other colours. The glass was beautiful and spotlessly cleaned so that they too caught the rays of light and shined brilliantly. Then the crowd began to cheer, waving banners and throwing flowers into the air. Mizani could even see that a flock of white doves had chosen that time to fly over the grand building just as the Holy Son emerged into the balcony from which he would make his address. Like the building he stood on he too shone like a light in the midday sun. His wings unfurled behind him spreading sparkling dust and feathers in a theatrical display which produced more cheers from the crowd. “Children of Angela!” He began, voice booming over the crowd. Mizani was fortunate to be at the front of the crowd so he, and his fellow expedition members, were able to hear clearly. “Today is a grand day! Today we who gather here bear witness to the departure of our beloved brothers and sisters” Mizani scanned the people beside him, their heads held high and pride in their hearts much like him. “For they have been chosen to undertake a great and noble task! They, the best and brightest, shall travel far beyond our borders, far beyond our neighbours' borders. They shall travel far indeed all to carry the Holy Word to those who do not know” Another cheer erupted and Tarkaras paused, waving and smiling at the crowd until the voices died down to a manageable murmur. “They shall travel to places unmapped and unmarked, to places unseen and untold of. They shall carry with them their faith and zeal and the goods of our nation so that the whole world may know the generosity of Great Saint Angela!” He looked down at them, directly at the gathered expedition. There were many of them, men and high men who had volunteered to do the journey. Merchants and missionaries, adventurers and fortune seekers, even some knights and their squires. When Tarkaras' gaze went his direction Mizani could not control himself and spontaneously yelled “Angela wills it!” while holding his arm high, fist clamped on the golden winged pendant that was the symbol of the faith. Tarkaras smirked and reciprocated the gesture “So she does! Angela wills it!” “Angela wills it! Angela wills it! Angella wills it” The crowd began to chant in one united chorus. The chanting followed Mizani as the expedition made it's way towards Grand Station for the first leg of their journey. He revelled in the excitement of it all, shaking all over as the full weight of his mission was felt on his shoulders. They walked down the wide cobble paved roads of the capital, past lines and endless lines of people who shouted praises and prayers for them. Some threw flowers and some even threw coins. From all over the city they came, nobles and knights, merchants and traders, commoners and even the poor came out of their workhouses and poorhouses all to wave them well. Mizani looked up ahead at Grand Station, a behemoth construct in itself built as a hub to handle the locomotives that criss-crossed the lands. Two whole, fully loaded locomotives awaited in the station, reserved just for the two expeditions. Their belongings and necessities as well as the goods they had brought as trade and gifts; everything they needed was already loaded in the various compartments. One would go to Talins for the sea expedition, the other to the border of the country for the land expedition. Mizani joined the one in front of the latter train, the leaders of their expedition addressing them. One was Armen Dor, a rather rotund man but a well versed merchant who lead many a caravan and, most importantly of all, had many connections that could make their journey that much easier. The other was the lead missionary, Mizani's main boss, Alexander Anderson. In contrast with Armen he was a High Man, tall, pale and though the humble robes might hide it Mizani knew well that this man was a fighter, a very good fighter. He was the one who trained him after all. Alexander caught his eye and smiled a toothy smile, golden tooth sparkling “We shall depart very soon, best get ready” Mizani nodded, his throat aching from chanting but his still heart beating with pride. ---------------------------------------------------------------- [b]Angelian Theological Academy[/b] Therese looked out a window in her office within the academy, the colours reflected in her bright silver eyes as she watched the crowd gradually, slowly dispersing to go back to their daily tasks. There was a great bellow of steam accompanied by a loud 'choo' coming from Grand Station, something not uncommon in the city, as the two locomotives departed to their respective destinations. “A grand day is it not Therese dear?” her sister said to her, watching the same scene. “Those brave, brave adventurers, striking out into the unknown to bring the worship of Angela to all the world's four corners, facing dangers unseen and sufferings undue....”. Jean's voice was whimsical, speaking as if she was some awe-struck maiden. “A brave venture to be sure” Therese commented as she poured a bottle of Wine-Liquor and added a splash of Celestine Rum, bringing the glass to her sister's lips who appreciated the gesture. She took only a sip and enjoyed the feeling of the sweetened liquid travelling down her throat, so sweet she took another sip and would have went for another if Therese had not intervened. “That's quite enough” Therese pushed the glass and bottles out of arms reach. “Hmph!” Jean crossed her arms and turned up her nose. “Spoilsport” It was quiet for a little while after, the only noise in the room being Therese writing notes and turning pages as she studied the old tome. Eventually the scratch, scratch, scratch of the quill and ruffle of paper turning got to the impatient sister as she let out a loud sigh. “So...” Jean began then paused, trying to think of a topic for conversation that Therese wouldn't simply ignore “...how goes the soulfyre research?” Therese turned another page, her eyes dancing through the old script, through a speech only just recognizable. To her though it might as well have been modern Angelian what with how much she had experience on the language. “It goes” She replied after some time. Jean was not deterred “Oh come now, this is something you and the other Cardinals have been working on for a long while. There must have been [i]something[/i] interesting you have found” Therese sighed knowing ignoring her sister was pointless “You already know much of what we do. It is difficult to find ways to sever the connection between the soul and body of an undead-” “Uh-hm” Jean interjected taking a bite of an apple “So you explored what could be done when the cleansing properties of fire and methods of holy banishment were combined. Yes, ive heard of this before”. Her tone was clear, 'get on to the interesting stuff'. Therese shook her head letting out another sigh, rolling her eyes at her sister “Well, without live subjects to test upon we could only work on theory and what practical knowledge we had about combining magicks” “Go ooon....” 'Please say something interesting' “Well, a few days ago Elain contacted the Witchunters to see if they could bring us a live subject” “Oh!” 'Ooh!' “Yes but they refused saying that all undead were to be exterminated on sight. Blind fools that they are, they could not see the benefits of what we are working on” “Oh...” “However, Maveran has taken it upon himself to contact some adventurers who would find us a live subject. I was told at least one of them would be a trained missionary” “Oh! We are getting our own ghoul? How exiting!” Therese thought Jean was far too exited by the prospect of an undead prisoner. She herself was hoping the group would bring up results. There was a knock on the office door that silenced Jean's babbling about what she would do with a 'ghoulie pet' that Therese had, almost naturally, blocked out. “Come in” A young brown haired man entered bowing his way in, wearing the blue robes of a third year. “Ms Voerman, your next lecture is nearing, students are already gathering in the Green Hall” Therese silently cursed, annoyed that she had lost track of time. She nodded to the student “Very well, thank you for reminding me Peter”. As the student nodded and left she put her quill into the inkwell and put away the tome she was reading before gathering up her lecturing tools and leaving. She closed the door on a silent, empty room.