[@Hokum] [center][i]Et onske om Herren Av kjer od nyd satn Vi boyar in ikke Pa grun syner oike [/i][/center] Ren nodded with a toothy grin before taking the slice of bread and biting down on the soft pastry. He peered down at Devlin, wondering what kind of bubbling emotion he felt stabbing at his core whenever he laid eyes on her. Not to mention, that damned smile curving her lips at the most unexpected of times which caused a constricting feeling down his chest. Ren could not help but laugh silently at her expense when she bungled in attempting to buy bread from a fruit stand. There was something refreshing from the break she provided from all the absurd routines of Nadska. At this time, Ren would have been sitting down on one of the rugs back at the temple, chanting the [i]reshud[/i] with the monks. He almost forgot that he, as a person, was allowed to just be happy and uncaring of the world around him, even for just a brief respite. With the cool air blowing around them and the sun's first rays climbing on the horizon, Ren had never felt lighter than he did now. Memories of Alayan disappearing behind two sliding doors in the arms of a horrid client or reminders of how his guardian swung from the gallows amidst a brutal downpour all vanished as he reached up to sweep a lone strand of hair out of Devlin's face. It was strange, really, how one woman's helping hand make someone like him believe that there was still good in the world. Then, for a split-second, the visage of Devlin was replaced by that of Alayan's which caused Ren's breathing to hitch for the briefest of eternities. His throat ran dry as the bread scraped against the roof of his mouth. How long has it been since he made [i]that[/i] promise to her, and for that same vow to be broken like glass against stone? As the ghost of a girl long gone slowly faded away, the lad's fingers danced over Devlin's cheek in a futile attempt to revive the warmth he already lost. Tears trickled from his eyes before sliding down in warm rivulets which the musician was able to quickly wipe away as soon as he was able to rein in his thoughts. [i]Ah, yeah, poor Queno got his sides cut. Yeah, probably at the same time when Tavas got killed as well.[/i] Ren's eyes turned to the two merchants nonchalantly conversing about Queno's demise. While the man was undoubtedly using Ren for his own benefits, the lad felt that he still owed something to the former barkeep. When Ren had arrived in Nadska, it was Queno who opened his doors to the drifter with nowhere to rest his head. It only took a few hours before Queno realized Ren's profession, and soon after,they had already struck a deal. If it wasn't for Queno, he would have been forced to find another village where the undead could have struck. It was a weird sense of gratitude, but for someone whose only memory of kindness was when he was a child rolling upon the snow of Aryali, it was like a drop of water in an unforgiving Akropolian desert. A slight numbing sensation crept around Ren's heart, his lips trembling in misplaced gratitude. Ren despised death; the thought of someone ending a unique human life was unbearable, because who knew what good things could have happened if that life was left to grow. But, oddly enough, at the darkest recesses of his heart, he felt a grin trying to claw its way up at a monster's end. Perhaps, with the death of one, more would live. He wondered about the identity of the slayer, and as his mind formulated possible identities, his eyes drew towards Devlin and the heroic act she performed that night. However, before he could put two and two together, a crash of shattered stone walls made Ren's neck snap in the direction of the noise like a prey sensing a predator. His eyes picked up fragments of rocks hurtling through the air just in time for a chorus of terrified screams to fill the air. [I][center]Et reid os afras sraf Fra bran os dod voldaf[/center][/I] The [i]reshud[/i] echoing from the church stopped, only to be replaced by the frantic knells of the large bronze bell housed inside the tower. From the distance of the town center overlooking the lower areas of Nadska, Ren's worst fears came into existence in the form of writhing ghouls and festering cadavers rampaging through the village. The force of the undead tore to bits a good number of guards and militias who nobly threw themselves in the path of the damned. However, what made Ren's blood run cold was the horrific sight of the temple in line for destruction as the scourge advanced towards the stone structure. Since the [i]reshud[/i] had already been prayed, it meant that the orphaned children had already entered the temple for their morning meals, and to imagine the dismembered and mauled remains of the children he had come to love brought a snarl on Ren's lips. His mouth parted in a voiceless scream. No, not again. But, Ren knew he could not do it alone. A dying spark of hope forced Ren to turn to his friend, trembling and cold hands gripping at hers as he signed in jumbled, desperate gestures. [i]'The children! We need to help the children at the church!'[/i] The danger of the situation fell on Ren's deaf ears as he bowed his head until it came to rest on Devlin's hands. Warm rivulets of tears stained her hand before Ren looked up on her, teeth grinding against each other in desperation. He wanted to say a thousand things, a thousand reasons why he needed to get a few worthless children out of there, but among the million things that stormed his mind, the only thing he was able to express was a clasp of his hands before putting his right fist over his heart, followed by an open-palmed gesture towards Devlin. [i]'Please.'[/i]