Men women and children gathered around the woman. She came from down the mountain, but she spoke their language as she preached and prayed. She pointed across the mountain range, where a great ship had been sighted, landing to harass their sibling tribe. All day, the woman from down the mountain had prayed aloud to Lithis on the behalf of the Dan Hurmding, though her dark skin betrayed that she was not one of them. And now, late into the night, they could barely see as the dark shape of the ship lifted off of the ground and flew South. 

"<[i]Do you see how the sons of Lan flee? Mother of All cannot be oppressed for long. The Steel of Lanus is nothing to the Stone of Lithis, and the souls of her children. They will come, and you, the children of the goddess, will beat them back, time and again. But heed my warning, lest you forget where your strength comes from. Don't trust the invaders from Lan. Be wary even of the Witch. She has been a boon to you, I know. But her heart belongs to Osmados, and I know not her true allegiance, or His.[/i]>" 

The Dan Hurmding made noises of derision at this. They had been with the priestess up until she spoke of the Witch. They feared her, true, but she had the trust of the Rhee, and no outside priestess could convince them that the Rhee's judgement was flawed. The congregation thinned out, some tried to linger, but were pushed away with the rest of the crowd. Children were dragged away as they tried to stay and question her. The priestess seemed less than perturbed about this, she merely crossed her arms and sat back down, cross legged, next to her meager pile of belongings. She would likely sleep nearby tonight, but in the mean time, she would pray, and the Dan would watch and listen. 

~~~

[i]The following night, leagues away in the city of Lan.[/i]

Captain Vern sat in a tavern, his face was blank, his mind a web of shock, disgust, and several other things he couldn't process right now. His pulse pounded and his mind buzzed uncomfortably. He had taken the last of his supply of the frozen nectar, the crystallized stimulant that was his weakness. It was much too large of a dose, but the events of that morning had driven him over the edge. A small, rational part of his mind was telling him he needed to flush the drugs from his system, so he could think clearly and process. Maybe he could find Yllicus and figure out what happened. 

But that part of his mind was drowned by the rationalizations of his addiction. He was coming down now and needed more to keep functioning. If he didn't get more of the nectar, he would surely pass out, and who knew how long he would sleep after that. No, he needed to be awake to track down the assassin that had been his friend. 

He waited in a corner of the tavern, his face obscured by a hooded cape, his body shaking and clammy. He had sent a page boy to bring a message to the collector he had hired, telling him when and where the rendezvous was changed to. He had no way of telling time, and his impatience was getting the better of him as he started drumming on the table.