The resonant voice of a male spoke out to a group of beings in a room devoid of sunlight. “He allowed himself to be captured. Quite the institution he chose to hide in. I always considered Eal to be abnormally sharp but he should know better than to try to evade me.” “So… what do you suppose we do?” an opposing voice spoke out. “ We watch. If he needs help things are already set up that he wont be easily corned any more than he wants to be. I can’t say I’m particularly excited to see what will happen once he’s found but its an event that we’ll ultimately have to live with.” --- Prisoner #3091 floated in what he identified as some sort of an odd void. He was expecting a simulated hell but in his cell there was only a deafening silence. Here he had no vision of anything; not even himself. Part of Eal’s intuition had told him his eyes were merely closed and maybe it was an illusion but that wasn’t the case. He was actually stuck abiding by the rules of this space. Spiritually he felt himself moving but he had no proof as he couldn’t feel anything physically. Not even the slightest of drafts existed within this space. He couldn’t get a feel for time and as a result his morale sunk from a confident “it’s a matter of time I’ll escape” to “I guess this is it.” Weirdly enough after coming to this realization he gave a slight sigh a relief. No one seemed to call his bluff. The chances he’d be released were near zero for what he committed and where it was committed but he was ok with that. What was odd was that he somewhat felt sorry for the Cizrans considering what he may have done. It was pretty besides himself to regret anything but nevertheless he did, at least briefly. After taking a nap he’d probably forget all about it. That is if it was possible in a place like this. Sinclair received a legitimate warning from him. Would he act on it however? This was more so the end of a chapter than of the book. Eal Sermonde would very well see the aftermath of what he brought whether he was prepared to or not. He was just ignorant to that fact. Just like the fact that he wasn’t alone. With his senses nulled he couldn’t hope to sense the creature physically but by the skeletal frame of his abnormal anatomy he became alerted to its presence. Apparently it was able to navigate the space he was confined within. Once it slithered out of his skull it was almost like it disappeared… And just like that he was alone again. His carelessness allowed him to forget about it near immediately as he paid it ultimately no mind. --- It is instilled within young Killimarians the laws of their culture. For the most part they went unbroken. Today was different however. The males had typically occupied the west and the females east. Under no conditions other than marriage were they allowed to cross territories but one male had surfaced from a river within the east in the middle of the night. His beady eyes were focused and with his unannounced goal in site it was unclear what he’d aim to accomplish by entering the female warriors domain. For the past several weeks it had become a trend that Killimari would abruptly disappear. With no reliable proof on any of the disappearances those who suspected the Killimaros had grown impatient enough to invade the western lands in hopes of finding answers. What they did not know is that the western end was having a similar crisis of their own. Several of the Killimaros had gone missing within the last couple of days in a similar fashion. Some highly respected, others common tribesmen. One trend was present with all of the disappearances however. Most if not all of them took place once a member of the tribe appeared to be on their way to bodies of water, whether it being at a river, ocean or lake. Perhaps it was some form of newly evolved predator or maybe it was something completely invasive to their home world. Little did the Killimarians know, the threat was something they had never encountered before. To truly understand this it was best for them to meet but could they under the circumstances without the threat of an implosion of their very culture. Maybe it would be wise to look towards the moon for answers but not for a reason they ever expect. Their answers were in fact there and currently in orbit. There it was. A baseball sized orb of silver matter functioning as some sort of satellite or receiver. Drifting between between the planet and its moon, it would go undetected as it didn’t do much to separate itself from any odd object floating in space. At least not yet. Its relation to impending crisis on Killimara had yet to be understood. --- Now feeling slightly disturbed, Sinclair was back at the scene of the crime; The Shrine of Tsathoskr. Somewhat bewildered by the environment, he lurked deeper as his curiosity of the god and its followers rose by the second. Sinclair was well educated in the sense that he knew not all stories of religion were fine and dandy but here seemed to be the extreme. Murals that contained death and rape appeared to be acts of religious sacrifice. The overall milieu was one that most unsettling. The deity itself Tsathoskr appeared to him as something he’d hope he never cross path with. His agnostic tendencies assured him mentally this would never happen but then again nothing is certain. The universe was one giant uncertainty in his eyes. Who was the say one day he’d never meet something similar in nature. He definitely didn’t plan for it, just like he didn’t plan for any of what was ahead for his future. One event after the next, Sinclair was bound to see what was prophesized. The traces of Eal may have disappeared within the cell in which he confined himself too but traces of him were left on his coat. Whatever Eal Sermonde was hiding from may end of finding no one other than the unsuspecting Warden of Gereza first. Still studying the temple for clues of what the prisoner eluded to, Sinclair was taken by surprise by one of the temples priests who laid his hand on his left shoulder. Urging him to lean down to his level, once Sinclair did he gave him the news. “An assassination has taken place among the high caste...”