Orzaansyn says in a cold, monotone voice, "How do you feel?"

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "Scared."

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "But I know I have to do this."

Orzaansyn nods her head emphatically.

You begin to wield a bronze ritual knife in your right hand.

Orzaansyn says in a cold, monotone voice, "Deliver me, O Lord, from the weakness I displayed on that
awful day."

Orzaansyn says in a cold, monotone voice, "Wash me from my weakness, Master, and cleanse me from my sins. For I acknowledge my faults in Suffering."

Orzaansyn says in a cold, monotone voice, "Then Suffering shall teach Your ways into my flesh, as
sinners shall be converted unto You."

Orzaansyn says in a cold, monotone voice, "Deliver me, O Lord, from the weakness I displayed on that
awful day."

Orzaansyn says in a cold, monotone voice, "Amen."

You have emoted: Caoimhaen gives a short nod.

Meditation garden (indoors).
This room has not been mapped.
A noxious, red-hued fog overwhelms the area with a thick, palpable vapour. Forming a pathway around
this circular garden, obsidian pebbles glimmer and shine from a shimmering spray of water. Several
crystalline ponds of water send up fountains of bubbling liquid, the musical tones of droplets
adding to the tranquility and calm. Snapping and hissing, a thriving patch of lycopods twist and
writhe at the rear of the garden whilst a small altar of black marble adorns the front. Trails of
ever-present red fog curl about small bowls of burning incense, lending a musky aroma to the bitter-
tasting air. A ladder of long, soft leaves comprises a wispy Weaver's Fern along the ground. A slime-
encased seedpod grows here in a puddle of foul acidic slime, appearing to be rooted in the ground. A
runic totem is planted solidly in the ground. A massive statue of Dethea stands here, her impassive
expression chiselled from obsidian. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the
ground.  Ambassador Orzaansyn Yuridja-Keyte, Priora of the Monastery is here.
You see a single exit leading out.

Orzaansyn slightly tilts her head, her deep green eyes pondering you.

You have emoted: Caoimhaen takes a deep measured breath as he attempts to calm his fears.

You have emoted: Caoimhaen holds out his right hand, palm facing the ground.

Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "Are you able to do it by yourself, Minion?"

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "I..dont know."

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "Perhaps...I should have you do it.."

Her deep green eyes still on you, Orzaansyn continues to silently watch you.

You have emoted: Caoimhaen is visibly trembling ever so slightly.

Orzaansyn begins to wield a graceful silver dagger in her right hand.

You cease wielding a bronze ritual knife in your right hand.

Orzaansyn kneels on the floor and then settles back, sitting on her feet so that she can rest her
hands comfortably on her thighs.

Orzaansyn firmly holds your hand on the floor, as she keeps her deep green eyes planted in yours,
while she starts to cut the flesh on your knuckles.

You have emoted: Caoimhaen grits his teeth in agony as he attempts to ball his right hand into a
fist.

Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "It may itch a little."

Her deep green eyes focused, Orzaansyn presses harder on the blade, drawing deep wounds in your
flesh. Your blood begins to flow on the ground of the garden.

You have emoted: Caoimhaen attempts to stifle a cry of pain as he wills himself to remain still.

You wince in pain.

You whisper in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "Maybe...we dont.. have to do this."

Orzaansyn raises an eyebrow questioningly.

You shake your head.

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "No."

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "Ignore me."

Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "Do you think you Suffered enough?"

You whisper in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "No."

Her deep green eyes remaining emotionless, Orzaansyn smiles softly.

Orzaansyn ceases to wield a graceful silver dagger in her right hand.

Orzaansyn begins to wield a butchering cleaver in her left hand.

Orzaansyn strokes a butchering cleaver tenderly.

You have emoted: Caoimhaen's face pales.

Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "Do not move please. It may hurt."

Orzaansyn continues to watch you, as she powerfully strikes your little finger with a butchering
cleaver, severing it from your hand.

Throwing back your head, you scream agonisingly.

Orzaansyn softly releases her grip on your hand, leaving you free, and takes a severed little finger.

You shudder violently as a chill ripples down your spine.

Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "How do you feel?"

You have emoted: Caoimhaen resists the urge to nurse his wound.
You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "...I...I feel my sins have been payed for..."

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "I will do better.."

Orzaansyn nods her head emphatically.

Orzaansyn keeps her deep green eyes on you, tenderly stroking a severed finger.

You have emoted: Caoimhaen's blue-green eyes meet yours.

Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "You displayed much will."

You whisper in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "Did..I."

You say in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "I showed weakness when I hesitated."

You shake your head sadly from side to side.

Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "That is why I helped you to overcome your fear."

You whisper in Mhaldorian in a quiet voice, "Thank you.."


Orzaansyn whispers in a cold, monotone voice, "In times, an Apothecary will sew your finger back."

You have emoted: Caoimhaen gives a slight nod.

Orzaansyn puts a severed finger in a tooled leather scroll case.