[center][h3][color=8493ca]Hector Wyland[/color][/h3][/center]
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[color=8493ca][b][i]"Manifold are They who shaped the world. Be it They of Light, of Change, of Foundation, of The After, or The Betwixt, all corners of this world were shaped by the Scions. Cast onto them thy worship, as the shepherd of Light adorned the crown of each of their brethren with bounty of earth and spirit. And lo they crowned They of Light six times over."[/i][/b][/color] The former pastor read to himself, once more going through his copy of the Book of Lucens. Prayer was a simple thing. A matter of faith that calmed the hearts of the faithful, that imagined the world as it was desired to be. A beauty beyond seeing that Hector was starting to feel had dulled in his eyes. 

Now, he had more certainty in steel than prayer. One foot trudging through hell while his arms grasped for some semblance of - 

“Sir, I’m sorry, but we’ve run out of eggs. Was there something else that you would like to order?”

Closing his book in resignation, he would shake his head. Truly, one foot trudging through hell. Breakfast would have to wait.

Adrift without purpose, Hector was almost certain that he wouldn’t be at Eon long…but anyone that shared the goal of exterminating abominations could prove a good ally. The streets of the republic were foreign to him, but anyone willing to look up could find their way to the tower easy enough. The Southeastern gate may have lacked eggs, but an “okay enough” meat bit skewer from a Beluan merchant would have to sate the pastor’s hunger as he walked.

The assembled new Reavers in front of the tower seemed a myriad motley crew, but Hector was sure that any assembled would be able to handle their own. As such, until it was actually time to make introductions, he would once more renew his reading of the Book of Lucens.
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[center][h3][color=f9ad81]Rem Indagrund[/color][/h3][/center]
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Technically speaking, Eon Tower might be one of the loveliest prisons one could find themselves stuck in. Plenty of reading material, the chef’s delicious food, a plethora of veteran battle magi with stories to tell. It was enough that the gnome woman Rem sort of forgot on occasion that she was under preventive watch for…something. She was fairly sure her golems were pretty standard as far as magitech went, and she wasn’t exactly a risk-taker. But, one moment she’s unearthing some artifact from a dig, and the next…a killer headache, and a kindly worded but still firm probationary period delivered by the tower’s Master.

It wasn’t all bad, as mentioned prior. Seated atop a pile of manuscripts and historical records, Rem couldn’t be happier to indulge her bookworm cravings as a hundred tiny egg-shaped miniature G-Smallers ran around the library, sorting things out into their proper places after she finished taking notes on a text. Kiff’s writings were fascinating, and he had at least allowed her to read through them in exchange for her golem squad keeping the library clean. Even an arduous task like keeping a magical library fully maintained and clean was a simple task for two-hundred hands.

[color=f9ad81][b]”Come to think of it…more people were joining the tower today,”[/b][/color] the gnome mumbled to herself, gently shutting a tome before handing it off to six G-Smallers to lug it back to its appropriate decimal-notated shelf. [color=f9ad81][b]”I should probably avoid mentioning the house arrest part of my stay…but then, what could I say I do here? Assistant for research? Plausible, but Naomi and I don’t share research. Maybe maid? But…well, I’d just look lazy if I did all the cleaning with golems…Reaver, maybe?”[/b][/color] 

Saying it aloud, the thought of it made Rem chuckle. [color=f9ad81][b]”Who would believe that?”[/b][/color]