[Arikana]

It had been a week since she had wandered into Thyatira and she still had no clue why she was here. Or why she left the other place, for that matter. But at least she was given a place to live and food to eat every day, even if it was not much, it was better than most days before she had arrived here. Zaccheus seemed nice, but she certainly wasn’t going to let her guard down around him. For all she knew, he could be trying to use her.

Wandering toward the edge of the city, as she oft did, kicking pebbles strewn along the way as she continued ambling toward the city gate. She began to reminisce her arrival in this armoured city, wondering just what Zaccheus had up his sleeves and why he was being so nice to her. ’There’s something about him to which I cannot lay a finger on, but what is it? Is he trying to use me?’



She was in Alexandria, the city was intriguing, and although it was far from an ideal home, it was beginning to feel grow on her. Yes, perhaps she could make her home here. Yet here she was, running from the authorities. She hadn’t meant to use her powers so much, but she needed to flee and there had been guards everywhere, she’d ended up causing terror in the civilized city, throwing the denizens into terrified tantrums as with her constant darkening of the landscape, all because she was tried to flee her location moments ago. In using her powers so much, the voices in her head grew louder and louder. Well, well, well, what have we here? The Rome incident all over again? You’re doing everything all wrong. No, you can still heal yourself automatically, so you’re doing just fine... She struggled to contain the voices and decipher which were real and which were not, so she rammed her body into the brick walls, dragging her skin against its rough edges, blood seeping out as quickly as her theurgy innately healed her on its own. For a weakling…

Feeling the pain of her wounds, she felt her grip on reality strengthening once more, yet the last whisper from the voices in her head stung hard. She knew she was weak, but each time she heard it from the voices, made reality all the more clearer. She was at a lost regarding how she could become stronger, she didn’t have any formal training and everything she knew was only enough to help her scrape by day in and day out. Heaving a heavy sigh, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she made a quick turn to head toward the harbour, in search for a ship, any ship, to leave this city. She knew she wouldn’t be able to return anytime soon, but she had to leave for now. She snuck onto the earliest ship to depart, it was a freighter ship with a few passengers aboard, heading toward Thyatira. She’d kept hidden so that no one could find her and throw her overboard. ’It’s not like there’d be a giant fish to save and carry her to land like Jonah had.’ A wry laugh escaping her throat at the thought.

Days had passed and as she kept a tight watch on the journey ahead, she noticed that land was approaching. Soon, so very soon, she’d be in a new place. She had no clue what was in store for her here, she just hoped things wouldn’t go as badly as they had in Alexandria. The ship soon docked and she made her way off, keeping as elusive a profile as possible, not wanting to alert any more trouble for the time being.

Sneaking past the mighty walls which houses Thyatira, she immediately took notice of the grande church amidst the bustling city. Uncertain as to how the church here would take to her abilities, she makes up her mind to stay away, heading into the market, hunting for suitable means to get some food while she was here. Unbeknownst to her, she was already detected by a man who looked to be around his mid-forties with warm, brown eyes, and short, slightly greying, chestnut brown hair, a well groomed, short brown beard, and a sturdy, iron rod, the powers housed within greatly palpable through her theurgic abilities. Though, she did notice when said man ambled toward her, with a speed unlike others his age, gentle eyes alight with curiosity. Tilting her head toward him, she decided to inquire about his sudden presence. “Good afternoon, sir, is there something I may assist you with?”

“Nay, child, I merely wish to speak with you. My name is Zaccheus, and I command this fortressed city, I ensure you that I shan’t harm you as I simply wish to speak with you.”

Narrowing her eyes, she eyed the man before her and hedged, she knew not what to do. Her instincts told her to forgo speaking with him, even so she was very curious as to just what he could want with her. Here, in this foreign metropolis, she was a nobody . So why go out of his way to speak with her? She needed answers, so she was going to get them. “Very well, then speak, Zaccheus, sir, why do you wish to speak with me?”

“You are a powerful theurgist, I only wish to help protect you, there are greater evils about this world, your powers can be used to help defend them. Please, let me help you use them for this purpose.” Zaccheus told her, the intonations of this voice echoed his experience of the subject, yet his voice seemed to be barely on the edge of pleading.

A frown marred her face, her frustration building at Zaccheus’ attempt to beseech her, she reiterated, this time more simple and direct, “But why me? You don’t understand, do you? I am nothing; from where I come, my gifts would have been viewed as a curse had I not kept quiet about them, why do you implore to help me use my gifts? You clearly sound like you know other theurgists, so why not lend your aid to them instead?”

Narrowing her eyes when she heard a feeble sigh escape Zaccheus’ mouth, she listened carefully at his next words, which saw to her posture relax slightly, even if only marginally, as he spoke, “You need not accept my aid, young one, I merely wish to help you develop them. If you choose to refuse my assistance, worry not, I shan’t force you. You are not my enemy. However, you are still new here, therefore if you’d like a place to stay and food to eat for the time being, it shall be provided to you, if you’d like.”

“Very well, I will not require your service in regard to my abilities, however I will take you up on your offer of hospitality for the time being.”

With all that had been said, she allowed Zaccheus to guide her to the grande church, to a room nearby a secluded exit, upon her request. After a quick tour to the dining hall, he then left her to her peace as she slipped out the door and took off for the market, exploring her new temporary home.



Glancing up, she noticed that she had just left the confines of the city, however as her gaze turned forward once more, she her eyes caught sight at a slowly growing speck the yonder ahead and the large rumble of machinery overhead. Wonder what, or who, it could be, she decided to investigate, proceeding onward with errant caution, yet concealing herself with utter invisibility from the naked eye, technological advances, special abilities — everything.

[Salone]

For the first time, Na'lsa let fear press its tendrils in to his mind. For all of his boasting over his power of flesh, it would do him a fat lot of good with it encased in armor, totally inaccessible to his influences. Combined with the lumbering beast of a vehicle and the sheer amount of weaponry focused on their little group, he was simply outclassed. He stood dumbfounded for a moment, comprehending what had just happened to him. Was he really the Son of God, if he had not power over these men? When sheets of metal could render him impotent and helpless, was he really the Messiah he claimed?

Na'lsa fell to his knees. He put is hands behind his head, attempting to appear meek. He spoke in a slow and purposeful manner, attempting to sound authoritative in some ploy to remain in some kind of power.

"Please. We arrive without ill will. We are but travelers in these blasted lands."

[Espy]

Dante had paused a few feet behind the rest of the group, and now stared, head tilted and eyebrow cocked but hidden behind ragged cloth, at the patrol. The hand that wasn't twitching near a holster held the smoke close to his face, as he thought the situation over.

Oh joy. Lights. How pleasant. I wonder if these are actually reasonable beings. But they were human, and even the gun that he and the demon had fought over wouldn't be of any use against them. He doubted his various weapons were sturdy enough for him to hold his own, either.

"...I don't know about him, but I'm just looking for food. And beds."

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Dara said nothing, just stood slightly off to the side in her usual manner, shifting a little from foot to foot but not making any other moves. Na'lsa had made introductions on his own, and she was still debating if she should say anything else or just wait and see what the soldiers would do.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

"These lands are under the protection of the Celestrine, and our haven to all men of faithful heart. We turn no suffering stranger away. If you come as friends, you will find sanctuary in great Thyat'ria. Know, though, that if you come in ill spirit, in bale intent, you shall meet the fire of God without mercy. We are the Shepherds, and we permit no threat to our flock." As he speaks, the apparent leader of these faceless soldiers crosses the distance and extends his hand to Na'lsa, holding otherwise completely still. It is notable that he has not lowered his grenade launcher.

"I offer you the welcome of our Outer Circle. Come meet with our Chaplain, he shall deem whether you are meet of heart and fit to enter our blessed city." He gestures back to the vehicle in invitation. Refusal does not sound as though it would be acceptable.

[Salone]

Na'lsa took the man's hand, pulling himself up to stand. For now, he would bide his time. For now, he would be their guest. For now, he would lick his wounds and contemplate his options. For now...he was Lev of Tsavo, Lev Gurevich, the poor bastard soldier. For now. He cleared his voice, making sure he was heard by the rest of his 'flock'.

"I am Lev Gurevitch. Lev of Tsavo, to some. I am but a sheep in the Flock."

Of course, he was sure that his more...primal nature would be detected, eventually. But eventually could be a long time. His first thought was to channel a more...peaceful aura. One that would be strong enough to not betray his true nature. He thought back. Back to the beginning. Back before he had lost Rue. Back before when he thought that Shealtiel was nothing but a doddering old fool. Back when they were focusing on surviving. Back when he had devoured the Saint and his mind had been nearly shattered apart by the sheer power he had consumed, how he had struggled to hold it in, wrestling with something that he could not even comprehend. That was what he needed now. The essence of the Saint.

His sacred skin had been so delectable. So...succulent. He recalled how the flesh peeled away from the bones with such ease. How he had consumed the holy flesh. Shredded the meat, devoured the Saint. Violated, defiled, corrupted the very being of his body, of his...

Na'lsa snapped back in to reality, realizing he was letting himself get carried away. Old habits died hard, and his hunger was an ever present pang. For now, he chose to ooze the power that the Saint had granted him. After all, it was the Saint who changed him, the Saint who had let him realize his true calling...or a clever ploy to devour all he could. His intent was to separate organs from owners, but as long as he walked among those who could see him for what he really was, the aura of the long dead Saint would provide for him. And if it failed, he would devour everything in his path.

With a chuckle under his breath, he turned to his motley party to address him.

"Aren't we all just lost Sheep parted from the Flock?"

[Quiet Man Cometh]

Dara looked at Lev, her usual sort of neutral expression she assigned to the man she still didn't know what to make of. Forgoing any sort of holy speech she said simply to the soldier, "a place to rest and re-supply would be appreciated, even for a short while."

[Serra Britt]

Feenai just nodded, ready to follow along with the rest into the city. She felt like she should be nervous or frightened but she wasn't. Rather she was enthralled by the mechanical suits. As soon as she saw them she immediately focused part of her attention to researching them.

[Arikana]

Treading forward with a cautious trepidation, Ei’lycia observed everything with a careful eye, adamant to not miss a single aspect of the scene unfolding before her very eyes. She watched as armoured men exited the patrol machine, as they called it, and speak with the newly arrived visitors. As she watched everything taking place, she silently wished she could see just what those machines were holding, and hiding. Then, all of a sudden, she felt her theurgic energy flood to her eyes, and in an instant her eyes could see a detailed analysis of the innards for the patrol machine as well as the armour of the patrolmen. As quickly as this newfound sight had come, so, too, had it disappeared, her theurgic energy dispersing from her eyes as well.

’Could I finally have a new power to use? If so, I wonder what else can I see with this power.’ The shock radiated off her small form as she made a mental note to decipher the meaning of this new occurrence, before pushing the shock back down and focusing on the scene in front of her, again. She couldn’t hear the conversation being spoken, but she figured both parties were on friendly terms at the moment, judging by the laid back persona of the new arrivals. Deciding there was not much left, of notable concern, for her to descry, she veered around and headed back to the church, to her room. There was much to ponder tonight.

’Perhaps, if I’m lucky, the new party will be around the city tomorrow so that I may get to know them. Based on what I saw, they seem to be quite the intriguing group. Hopefully they’ll even have a good story or two to share.’

[Suzerain of Sheol]

There is little room left in the recon vehicle, and they find themselves cramped among the soldiers in their bulky armor as it speeds across the desolate terrain. Their escorts say nothing more along the way, leaving a fraught quiet hanging over them as the night deepens. After an hour, though, perhaps slightly less, they reach the city, pulling into a small guard station beside the main gates.

As they are shuffled inside, they are met by more of the towering warriors, some truly huge and clearly altered beyond the human norm in some fashion. Weapons of terrible destruction abound in their hands, but none of them are aimed at the company as of yet. In a small side-chamber, they are deposited at the desk of a small, shaven-headed man in a docent's robe -- the Chaplain -- with only a single mute guard to watch over them.,

Upon their arrival, he stands and studies them one by one, golden light flaring in his eyes as he looks into their souls. He says nothing. After a moment, he moves from behind the desk and lays a single hand against their foreheads in turn. First, Feenai, who he passes over quickly. Dante, who takes a moment's consideration longer. Dara, who earns a perplexed scowl but is apparently. When he comes to Lev, he pauses, his eyes flaring once more as though wary, then his finger's brush the creature's flesh...

The Chaplain picks himself up from the wreckage of his desk, signaling frantically for his guard to stand down, and spares a moment to collect his breath before making his judgment.

"I do not... know... what you are... beyond me... beyond God perhaps... you must... must... be brought before the Celestrine. I saw salvation... and I saw doom.... I am but... but a man."

[Salone]

Na'lsa's eyes went wide, knowing all to well that he had hammed it up too much. Choosing the essence of the Saint had been the wrong move on his part. Of course it was! Passing himself off under its guise, anyone who could even detect an aura would feel the powerful and holy aura that the Saint had projected. He cursed himself inwardly. Outwardly, he stammered through his deceits.

"I-I don't know what you mean. I am but a simple man. The only thing I lead is this group. Nothing lies in my future."

He would not have the time to murder the Chaplain or his guard. For now he would have to play along, and hope that he wasn't seen for the monster that he truly was before someone who had the power to annihilate every single atom of his being.

[Espy]

Dante had thrown his hands up reflexively before the chaplain had been sent flying through his desk, and now he stood awwkardly to one side, hoping no one had noticed.

I mean, it's not even anything special, right? Half wanting to scoot as far away as possible from Na'lsa, and half trying to control the mirth that was bubbling up at the sigh of the chaplain and the confused guards, Dante found his tongue and chuckled wryly.

"Leads us? So he'd like to think. And what's this Cel...Celest...place or person or thing?" He cocked his head to one side, noticing the black twisted strands weaving in and out of the form that was Na'lsa.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

The noise of the shattering desk sent Dara jumping back, suppressing her aura completely. She stood back against the wall, her proximity to which prevented her from raising her rifle in what might rapidly turn into hostile company.

After the dust settled, the Chaplain a little off his feet but nor shouting for open fire, Dara decided to just catch her breath before attempting anything else.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

The Chaplain stares across the group for another moment longer, then collects the remainder of his dignity and rights his chair to take a seat.

"The Lord Celestrine," he replies to Dante, "commands the defense of this city, as he once commanded its faith in the days of yore, ere the Christ came before him with the Rod." He rubs at his forehead tiredly.

"We have survived, you see, by that gift. The last gift of our LORD. Do any of you know what happened to him, the first Son of God? At Armageddon? I suppose not, few do. It hardly matters now."

"I do not sense malice from you, and for that alone you live yet." He nods at his towering guard, who still holds motionless, apparently showing no interest in the proceedings but surely ready to explode with violence at the merest command. "But I am a frail man," he continues, "Not long for this world, I fear. I do not know what Lord Zaccheus will make of you, but if you are friends of humankind, he will surely show you at least mercy, if not friendship. I see that you have been through great struggles. It may be that you can find healing here. Do not let what you may have heard of the man sway you, he is not wicked, merely zealous in his protection of our species. The sons of the Satan, the legions of the Destroyer, the abominations of Semyaza, they shall be eradicated, but friends... friends shall find the closest haven to Paradise left on Earth."

He falls silent then, looks to his guests for questions. With a gesture, he has his guard open a communications channel to, presumably, the Celestrine's office to arrange for a meeting. He does not seem to be in any hurry.

[Quiet Man Cometh]

The sons of the Satan, the legions of the Destroyer, the abominations of Semyaza, they shall be eradicated...

The words echo in Dara's head a moment, the man speaking with obvious disdain and perhaps a little bit of fear. Dara can only bring herself to ask one question:

"Who are they?"

[Suzerain of Sheol]

The Chaplain looks to the young woman in disbelief.

"Do you jest, child?" His gaze narrows on Dara for a moment, seeking, and then... "No, no you do not. To think, such innocence should endure..." He looks pained to answer her. "Demons, child, pouring from the Infernal Sea. At first, there came in endless myriads, but we beat them back. We slaughtered them with the fury of God and a rain nuclear fire. They scarcely dare to rise into our lands now."

"And the dead, the mindless shambling hordes are as nothing to the horrors, the ABOMINATIONS the Abaddon has risen. Wraiths sustained on the pure malice of their ancient grudges, titans of awful power who move as a whirlwind, shrieking songs to ravage the soul. Endless, they come, and endless we blast them and sear them, raze them and ruin them, but how can we slay the dead? The Abysmal Angel holds their souls, and ever does he work new flesh to house them. His war is endless, it's outcome inevitable. We cannot survive forever."

"And Nephilim... NEPHILIM! Bastards! Whoresons and leprous! Degenerate, heinous, obscene, retarded spawn of wanton sinners! Incestuous children of rapist angels! Only by the grace of God are they so few in number, there is no torture fit to answer the atrocity, the depravity, the GOD-DAMNED PUTRESCENCE of their presence in this world."

The Chaplain falls quiet then, seemingly unaware of the vitriol in his outburst.