[hr][hr][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/fS07WbS.png[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][h2][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGmmjZe5BMc&list=PLpV28ONBH95SsjGpQEVhLeLhBFn7MZ95a&index=2]♫[/url][/h2][/center][hr][hr][center][color=808080][i][b]Present:[/b] Esmii [@BlackRoseSiren], Oksana [@Ti], Yuliya [@Suicharte], Marz [@Th3King0fChaos], Yvain [@jasbraq], Roslyn [@Fallenreaper], Khaliun [@YummyYummy], Sven, and Penny[/i][/color][/center][hr][hr][center][h1][color=8FBC8F]The Conundrum[/color][/h1][/center]
	[color=C0C0C0]What had begun as a tense and standoffish meeting at the base of a large staircase had turned into a celebration of pure unfettered capitalism: a system that was, all told, fairly new to Vossoriya and not implemented particularly well by the ruling powers. It took hours, and most of that time was passed with the eight youths gleefully spending vast amounts of coin on a series of eclectic items. They spent with such gusto and glee - for the most part - that it soon became clear that their time in The Bunker was more than a mere shopping spree; it was cathartic. After all they had seen and experienced to this point, it was [i]needed[/i].
	
	But they learned some things as well. Most importantly, it was Roslyn who learned something of Marz’s last whereabouts, for some hope was still held - cautiously among them - that he remained among the living. It was the early afternoon as they came down the stairs, Sven and Penny in the midst of an argument. [color=385403]“It’sh jusht treshpasshing,”[/color] he insisted, shaking his head adamantly. [color=385403]“Maybe they’re up to shomething. Maybe they’re [i]not[/i], but we can’t jusht go barging in and expect them not to defend themshelves.”[/color]

	[color=F7976A]“You can call it whatever you like, [i]Sven[/i], but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re dirty: [i]clearly[/i].”[/color] It was Penny’s turn to shake her head. [color=F7976A]“They’re not normal ‘monks’ and they’re hiding something.”[/color] She was annoyed. It was clear. Yuliya, who normally seemed her best friend and ally among the group, had more or less sided with Sven and it was ever the habit of the Perrenchwoman to dig in her heel and lash out like a cornered animal when she felt outnumbered. 

	[color=pink]“You don’t go into holy place uninvited and just start beating priest,”[/color] Yuliya decided with a scowl, and Penny rolled her eyes and sighed. [color=pink]“Is basic common sense. St. Artyom’s are…”[/color] She trailed off. For what it was worth, they were not known as a militant order. The level of force they had displayed was still odd if the others were to be believed. [color=pink]“Allowed to have their privacy, no?”[/color] she concluded after a brief pause. Penny relented, going quiet, a wedge that was only temporary driven between the two friends. [color=ebe7a3]“Well, we know about that Blacksmith,”[/color] Rosyln recommended, finding her voice among the large group of semi-familiar people. [color=ebe7a3]“We could try that?”[/color]

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=8FBC8F]The Collapse[/color][/h1][/center]
	It was no cleaner than it had looked some two days earlier. They stood outside of the Collapse, where they’d been told that Vladimir, the blacksmith, could be found. It was a grim place that reeked of death. Carrion birds circled overhead and the last remnants of the other day's late Stresian snowfall were still melting away. Every once in a while, the dozens of rescuers and salvagers pulled someone out, still blessedly alive, but it had been almost a day since the last one. Far more common were the bodies: mangled or frozen. The debris of people's lives - their homes, businesses, and possessions - was scattered, wilting in the sun and the mud among the great boulders and lesser rubble of the fallen cliffs. Yet, those unscrupulous enough found opportunity here. Valuables remained to be picked, and even artifacts of the sacred caves below. Some in the bunker and about town had hinted at the presence of a great treasure below. Perhaps it was this, as much as altruism or a concern for the possible last handful of survivors, trapped in pockets within the disaster zone, that drove the continued efforts. 

	The group of foreign students proved unable to resist at least trying, and they spent the next two hours picking and digging through the rubble. If it was not quite what they were supposed to be doing, some convinced themselves that Marz might yet be in there. Others took solace in the fact that no less than three lives were saved by their intervention. Thousands of oubles worth of valuables were recovered, including a few items of exceptional power that were quickly and guiltily hidden away and hoarded.

	The Hours of Oraff were giving way to those or Rezain by the time that they finally encountered Vladimir: a large, gruff man who spoke no more than a few words of Avincian. He led them back to his workshop, perched perilously close to the yawning chasm where once had been part of a town. There, with Yuliya to translate, he answered their questions. [color=5F9EA0]“Aye, tall for a hegelan, right? Reddish hair…”[/color] He trailed off, seeming to consider but perhaps really regarding them with a degree of suspicion. [color=5F9EA0]“Who’d you say he was to you again?”[/color]

	There was a rapid exchange between him and Yuli, and the others, left in the dark about specifics, couldn’t help but let their eyes wander about the shop. That was when she spotted the child: a small hegelan boy, peering out from around a corner. When they locked eyes for a split second, he ducked behind it once more. Penny leaned in and tapped Yvain on the shoulder. [color=F7976A]“Regardez,”[/color] she whispered, pointing subtly in that direction, [color=F7976A]“et attends.”[/color] Sure enough, about twenty seconds later, the child poked his head out once again, stealing a glance at the strange people who spoke in a strange language. Finally, Yuliya was finished, and a small bag of coins exchanged hands. [color=pink]“He says Marz came by here with another boy - Nazih, I think - and learned about [i]other[/i] problem in this town.”[/color] She shook her head. [color=pink]“Hegelans that come here go missing. He says maybe a dozen. Maybe a hundred, but it is known thing. He says this two boys mentioned heading for caves across from…”[/color] She trailed off, unable to find the word for a moment. [color=385403]“Monashtery,”[/color] offered Sven helpfully, and she nodded and pointed. [color=385403]“Yes, this.”[/color]

	Penny was already starting to move. So was Roslyn. The former was tired and achy, to be perfectly honest. She was not built to walk long distances without magic, but she was terrified enough of being a burden that there was no chance of her offering any protest. Instead: [color=F7976A]“Is there any doubt [i]now[/i] where we must go?”[/color] she prodded. In the event, there was none.

[hr][hr][center][h1][color=8FBC8F]The Monastery[/color][/h1][/center]
	The sun glistened golden upon the damp grass and scant remaining banks of snow and townspeople hustled about, finishing up their daily errands as the students docked in front of St. Artyom’s. One by one, they clambered out of the large skiff, footsteps thumping on the dock. Behind the walls and hedges, rising up into a large grotto, lay the monastery. Votive mosaics and wrought iron gatework greeted them. Beyond that, there was precious little to see. Yuliya decided to go first, clearing her throat and knocking on the gate. Any who had participated in the conflagration a few days earlier were kept back, out of immediate sight. Now, it was their turn to hide where, this morning, it had been Yuliya’s and Yvain’s.

	It was close to a minute that they stood there, waiting, and Yuliya knocked a second time, for good measure. A little door in the thick iron slid open and, beyond it, was one of those monks in their red hats. [b]“We are not accepting pilgrimages at the moment,”[/b] He informed her, voice tired and official-sounding. [b]“given what’s happened in the town. All of our resources are needed in the rescue effort.”[/b] Yuli had just [i]come[/i] from the rescue effort, however, and she had seen only a handful of monks at best.

	Yuliya cocked an eyebrow in confusion. She’d not wanted to come to this place, but there were too many questions in her head now. Why weren’t there more monks at the wreckage? She hadn’t seen that many throughout her walk here from the town either, so where were they? Maybe the monk didn’t have the authority to answer her questions. She needed a holier person.
[color=pink]“We are not pilgrims. We’re here to speak to the Hegumen, if you wouldn’t mind.”[/color] she spoke politely, as whatever her doubts were about the situation, this was still a man of the gods.
	
	He arched a dubious eyebrow at her, tamping down on whatever further rudeness may have risen within him. [b]“And who are [i]you[/i], dear child, that you should be so exempt from the rules that others have to follow?”[/b] he harrumphed. [b]“Does not Dami-Soluz teach us humility?”[/b]

	[color=pink]”That he does, brother, but does he not also stand first among equals?”[/color] she retorted, a small confident smirk marking her face as she met his gaze. She’d never gotten to use these before, and oh boy was it exciting, but she sure hoped she hadn’t fucked up the words. How embarrassing that would be.

	The monk froze for the briefest of moments, his face going still through the tiny sliding door and his eyes searching hers as if his mind were racing. After this pause, he nodded, and it was [i]nearly[/i] seamless. [b]“You make a very good point, Sudarynya.”[/b] He bowed his head. [b]“I shall see if I can fetch him for you.”[/b] He reached up to close the portal. Yuliya held a hand out before he finished and coughed expectantly 

	[b]“Oh yes. Sorry.”[/b] the monk cleared his throat. [b]“Where are my manners?”[/b] He called back into the courtyard and a couple of others came hustling over. With their combined efforts, they heaved the gates open. [b]“Please, step inside and he’ll be along.”[/b] However, upon sighting Sven and Esmii in particular, they froze, and their faces became stony. They whispered among themselves anxiously and their entire body language changed. It was clear to Yuli, even if she couldn’t quite hear it all, that there was something that these monks found deeply objectionable about her party, and she didn’t have to stretch her imagination very much to figure out what that was.

	She turned back to Esmii and Sven, and scowled a little herself, before switching back to the same polite smile as she had done prior, leading the group into the monastery grounds. It would do them good to warm up, given the cold Vossoriyan night was soon to be afoot and the majority of her comrades were not used to such conditions, she’d seen as much on the way to Kirimansk. She turned once more and addressed them as they were walking [color=pink]”Be respectful. We don’t want more incident.”[/color] as she playfully tugged Penny’s ear for a second before continuing and the Perrenchwoman batted her hand away and hissed.

	The monks’ eyes darted warily back and forth, as if they were thinking of trying something. There was particular hostility in how they regarded Sven and Esmii. Perhaps the others were mundane enough not to stand out or simply hadn’t been recognized. Then, the monk in the red hat turned and barked some orders at his blue-hatted underlings: didn’t they have the gate to close? Then, as they knew, places to be? Didn’t they have the abbot to fetch? The students were left alone on the correct side of the heavy iron doors as further monks carried about their early evening business in the near distance. Had their magic been available to them, perhaps some of the students might’ve reached out and snooped. Yet, it was not, and they found themselves blind, in a sense, without it. 

	Then, finally, a small procession of six, with a seventh in the middle, began making their way from one of the larger buildings in the back, set against the cliffs. They wound their way towards the students and the figure in the middle - a tall, lean man of years rather advanced but just shy of elderly, dressed in fine clerical vestments - was clearly revealed to be the abbot. He pulled up in front of them, hands clasped before him. He inclined  his head shallowly in regard, eyes suspiciously searching the others. [color=BA55D3]“How may I be of service, my child?”[/color] he inquired in accented Avincean that was probably a shade better than Yuli’s. [color=BA55D3]“Have you come seeking to bathe in the sacred pools, or is there some other blessing that you and these… foreign guests seek?”[/color]

	Yuli addressed the man respectfully, bowing her head as he did, responding in Avincean [color=pink]“Greetings Hegumen, I seek blessing of Sveta-Shune, in regard to comrade of mine. Hegelan, red haired. Your brothers are searching around town, you have seen him?”[/color]

	The abbot paused, mid-greeting, and furrowed his brow. [color=BA55D3]“A hegelan?”[/color] he asked, face and voice tamping down on at least some degree of confusion. He gathered himself. [color=BA55D3]“Greetings, of course. How rude of me, Sudarynya.”[/color] His eyes darted nervously in the direction of the others, at least two of whom had been recognized as having belonged to the interlopers from three days earlier. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. [color=BA55D3]“Do they speak our language?”[/color] Yuli shook her head [color=pink]“Save for those two, no. But that one is deaf.[/color] she gestured to Khaliun, and then to Oksana.

	[color=BA55D3]“So then, why are you with them?”[/color] he prodded, forcing a casual note into his voice. [color=BA55D3]“Are you safe? Is it safe to discuss the… operation in front of them?”[/color] 

	Yuli crooked her head to the side. What on earth was he talking about? Why would she not be safe? Something about this whole situation set her on edge. Operation? Did he mean the boxes? The anti magic zone? She already felt sick from being in this field, and this did not help her one bit. 

	[color=pink]”Why wouldn’t I be safe? And what operation?”[/color] she asked, a hint of authority to her tone, as if she was insulted by the prospect that she’d ever be in danger.

	The abbot’s eyes narrowed, and he exchanged glances with three of the monks around him. [color=BA55D3]“Who [i]are[/i] you,”[/color] he asked with some authority of his own. [color=BA55D3]“I think it is right that you should introduce yourself when coming into my house.”[/color]

	Yuliya walked up to him, slowly. Her suspicion at this moment piqued, and instinctively, she found a verse from the Menushyn leaving her lips as her footsteps echoed around the abbey. [color=pink]”[i]They should not ask who enters a house of worship, but the intentions they hold, and the gait with which they walk[/i]”[/color] as she was now face to face with the abbot, looking up into his eyes expectantly, waiting for a tell which she hoped would not come.

	For a moment, he merely appeared confused, before a light turned on. [color=BA55D3]“For who they are now matters not -”[/color] He corrected himself [color=BA55D3]“- [i]less[/i] than who they were before they came… [i]entered.[/i]”[/color] He regarded her suspiciously. [color=BA55D3]“My child,”[/color] he responded, falling back on familiar ecclesiastical vernacular, [color=BA55D3]“Why is it that you ask me to recite this verse now that I have not read since I was in the seminary?”[/color]

	Before she had the chance to respond, however, Penny let out an exclamation and Sven picked up on it. [color=385403]“The magic,”[/color] he exclaimed in Eskandish, and that was a tongue that Yuli knew as well. It was back! Surely enough, she could feel it. [b]“Your eminence!”[/b] shouted a red-capped monk rushing up the hallway. [b]“Your eminence! There’s trouble down below It’s the heg -”[/b] He noticed the outsiders and cut off mid-word, stammering for something else to say. [b]“Hegumen’s… correspondence. You have a new message!”[/b]

	The sickness Yuliya felt in her stomach from the loss of her magic faded, but not from the shiftiness of this character. She had spoken to many men and women of the gods in her time, and any that were of his rank would not fumble his words with holy scripture the same way he had. The man running into the room and cutting his speech was but further giveaway that something deeply wrong was going on here, and she would get to the bottom of it. [color=pink]“You… you… insolent worm.”[/color] She practically shook with anger, and the words forced themselves out in Vossoriyan, but she knew hiding this conversation from her friends was pointless. She momentarily calmed herself to speak the tongue they all knew as she bit her lip to the point of puncture. [color=pink]“No more questions. Only truth. What is plan. What are you hiding?”[/color]

	There was sweat beading on his forehead. He looked back at her and then at the others, making a small, quick gesture with three of his fingers at another monk. [color=BA55D3]“This is no time to be questioning an Elder of the church! Can you not see there are urgent matters at hand?”[/color] He gestured in the direction of the monk who’d recently arrived bearing the news. For his part, the chubby young man was wide-eyed and useless. The abbot leveled a finger accusingly at the others, then, eyes bulging and face reddening. [color=BA55D3]“And [i]them![/i] At least two, we recognize from the other day! That knife-ear and the big lummox there! They broke in here uninvited and now I have multiple brothers maimed for life!”[/color] he stalked forward, his meekness beginning to dissipate. [color=BA55D3]“How dare you come here, whoever you are, with a stolen password and a group of rogues, and speak to me, a Hegumen, with such brazen disrespect!?”[/color] His eyes were lit with fury now. [color=BA55D3]“I could have you locked up for that! Why, I [i]should![/i]”[/color]

	Sven caught Yuliya’s eye for a moment. Penny looked to him and then to her, both of them speaking through their body language, asking the same question: “Should I?” How Yuliya wanted to rip this blasphemer’s head from his shoulders, but nay. She had spoken her part. She nodded to Sven, the comments about Esmii gave him right of way in this regard. She would be grateful if she was offered the same opportunity in these circumstances. He stepped forward, brimming with energy. [color=385403]“Who you calling a knife-ear, asshhole?”[/color] A mighty directional shockwave emanated from his hands as he clapped them together, and the sickly feeling of atomic radiation followed. Yet, when the massive clouds of dust that had been kicked up followed, the abbot stood there, utterly unbothered. His robes flapped in the wind and a smile of grim satisfaction spread across his face and a half-dozen more monks rushed up to join him. [color=BA55D3]“Unofficially, I was [i]hoping[/i] you’d make a mistake like that. Say your prayers, [i]children.[/i]”[/color][/color]
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