[@Hokum]
[i]Devlin...[/i]

Her name echoed inside his head before his mind began to digest the fact that this girl was a living legend.  As a musician, he knew of the dirge dedicated to the massacre at Despiun.  Its forlorn lyrics and heavy tune could never express the tragedy which fell on that civilization in the past.  For some, the song was used as a warning to anyone who spoke of dark arcana and magical gambits.  It was the song parents used to scare their children into a troubled sleep when they spoke too much about magic and fiction.  To think that this was the girl behind the legends was quite difficult to process.  But, if the songs of minstrels were true, then, this girl carried a burden that toppled most men.

Ren slowly got to his feet as he turned to face Devlin with a faint grin.  His hands rose before moving to his chest and, then, gesturing to her as if to say 'it's great to meet you'.  The musician prodded over to the cabinet before pulling out a ragged monk habit.  The brown, somewhat moldy robe helped Ren to blend in with his companions.  Though not really a member of their order, the monks were generous enough to lend him their attires to help him stave off the cold tendrils of night.  Ren lifted the habit over his head before letting it cascade down his body, hiding the horrid scars which forked all over the plains of his skin.  After he fastened the white cotton cord around his waist and donned on the hood over his head, he also handed another habit to the woman.

In order to explain his actions, Ren grabbed one of the parchments on top of the altar as he scribbled his thoughts on it.  He then showed it to Devlin with a straight face.

'With the incident back at the tavern, they will look for you.  Wear this to help disguise.'

Ren went over to the altar as he sat with his legs crossed in front of it.  His purple eyes observed the dancing flames upon the candle's wick as he found himself lost in thought.  Devlin was by no means a good omen.  A person stained in so much death was bound to afflict the current locale of her residence with her malefic energy.  She was a daughter of death, so to speak.  Her arrival in Nadska only confirmed Ren's fears that the undead and monster attacks around the villages surrounding Nadska already started enclosing upon them.  He shuddered at the thought of broken walls and splintered gates should the claws of the dead rake through their lands.  The most logical decision for anyone would be to drive her out of Nadska's walls; she should be left in the forests where no one will ever suffer the omen of death that she carried everywhere.

[center][i]'Almighty Heren of a thousand stars anew
Bestow on us your mercy and compassion true,'
[/i][/center]

But, when he dared to meet her stoic gaze once more, Ren found all fears and all doubts melted from his psyche.  How could he drive out someone who trusted him enough to share this kind of information?  How could he force out a person who only wanted to help in her own little ways?  Sure, her methods bordered on [i]shocking[/i], but if the heart behind it was pure, then, was there really an issue?  She did not have to help him; she had no reason to help him, but she did.  She had no reason to care for a village grown mundane with the absurd routines from morn 'til night.  

But, she did.

[center][i]'Of every sinner and every sin
Comes a heart full of regret and love
With a righteous act, penance does begin
A call to men from you up above,'[/i][/center]

The monks' chants echoed softly around the church, and the voices of his companions caused to Ren let out a silent chuckle at what the monks might say if they knew he brought in a murderer.  However, Ren argued that they could not really complain since they did also adopt a harlot who drank from the cups of different people.  He almost grinned at the thought:  both of them sinners yet here they were inside what was supposed to be the holiest of sanctums.

His thoughts went back to what Devlin said back at the tavern-- what she was looking for might kill her.  Judging from the faint rays of light seeping through the stained glass window inside his quarters, they still had a lot of hours to burn.  It was best that he ask her now to make sure that her schemes would not shatter the lives of others.  Not to mention that the power she demonstrated fell under the term of 'horrific'.  Her battle-hardened stance and rough hands served as proofs that she was bred for battle and bringing death.  They differed greatly on that note, though.  Ren disliked the idea of hurting, let alone killing someone while she had no problems in taking a life.

Queno would have liked her attitude.  Probably, tomorrow, he'd speak to Queno about her.

For now, Ren faced Devlin once more as he began with a bow of his head.  Then, he mouthed the words 'thank you' to her with regard to her timely intervention back at the tavern.  Then, he shook his hands from side to side before doing the lifting motion again and then gesturing to himself.  Finally, he raised his thumb and swung it backwards.

[i]'No one has ever helped me before during those times,'[/i]

His hands shook again from side to side before placing a closed fist over his heart.

[i]'No one really cared enough,'[/i]

He could not help it, though.  As the memories replayed in his head, Ren gave Devlin a bright smile which curved his lips.  Years of fending off for himself, and now, he discovered that someone deemed him worthy enough to be cared for.

[i]'But, I'm glad you did,'[/i] He added silently in his head.

However, there were more pressing things to be discussed.  Ren proved terrible in being subtle; he wanted the truth straight from the horse's mouth, no matter how painful it was.  He scribbled down something on a parchment before handing it to Devlin once more.  Ren held a breath, knowing that he was breaking his promise not to pry.  The mysteries surrounding her sparked a certain unease within the musician.  How did her story tie into all of the madness biding their time within the shadows surrounding Nadska?  What did the Daughter of Death seek within the margins of this lonely village?

'I asked you what you were looking for back at tavern.  I want to know the truth.  Just the two of us.'