Kerryn glances to you, "Durmat might know more of the finer details about Khenarkha and Father's relationship." she says with a look to Durmat.

Nola's brow dips into a deep, concerning frown as she sets her fiery sight on the priest. "Durmat, could you possibly explain this more to us? I would rather not be left with the sparse information to go off of. It is dangerous, and the Lord Damariel is quiet and seems far away from our thoughts," she says slowly.

You tell Auspicious Legacy, Abbess Kerryn Cardinalis, "Where did you find that information from?"

Kerryn tells you, "Witnessed it with my own eyes. Father was injured by the blade, we brought Him here, she came with us, kissed Him. He kissed her back, said that He loved her."

Damariel arrives from the north.
Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound straightens his posture and grows respectfully silent, bowing his head in the presence of his God.

Kerryn tells you, "Well, she said that they were in love? I think."

Damariel starts to wield a cane of the quickening in His left hand.

Kerryn presses the open palm of her left hand against the clenched fist of her right and bows respectfully to Damariel.

Pressing the open palm of His left hand against the clenched fist of His right, Damariel bows respectfully.

Nola stands straight and tall, a heavy frown set on her brow as her eyes find her lord.

"Father." Kerryn says quietly.

Wordlessly, Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound approaches Damariel - the God is stained with blood, with ash, with soot, with smoke and grime and all manner of other things. His hands are so darkly colored that they seem to have been buried in the entrails of another being.

Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound begins the cleansing ritual - in a grim silence, his lips pinched together. The dust falls over Damariel's brow, and next the incense is lit and held up so that the smoke can spread.

Kerryn takes in Damariel's stare, concern alighting on her features, "Father, what happened?" she asks.

Heavily, Damariel, the Unbound says, "Ishin Cardinalis has killed Khenarkha."

Nola's eyes narrow and seem to burn under the weight of her silent seething. But silent does she remain in her unrest, even if it can be told in every fiber of her being, through every tensed, defined muscle. Finally, she speaks, asking a simple question, "Who is this Khenarkha?"

Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound upends a flask of water over Damariel's head, letting the liquid pour over the God and wash away the stains.

Kerryn frowns upon hearing of Khenarkha's death, her gaze lowering slightly, "I am sorry to hear that, Father." she says gently. Falling silent she captures her lower lip between her teeth, a glance given to you as you poses you question to Damariel.

"Khenarkha," Damariel answers, dully, "Was a mortal whom I had taken as a lover. Perhaps unwisely, but there was something about her eyes." Water soaks into His robes. "She took Me in when I was in need of a place to rest. She was a farmer before she came into My service. Kind, and gentle, but strong, and I am not as removed from this world as My Brother the Underking is."


(Daru): Mireia says, "Welcome to the Monastery, Mister Aren."

(Daru): Aren says, "Thank you."

(Daru): You say, "Welcome, Aren."

(Daru): Jami says, "Welcome, Aren."

Damariel, the Unbound says, "She was with child when the man killed her. Not far along, but..."

(Enorian): Qaixheor says, "Greetings, Beacon. Archmage Ciarelle of the Ascendrils will be holding a discourse about the Ascendril elements. Please join us at Before the Hall of the Elements, entrance of the guildhall, should you wish to participate."

(Daru): Haven says, "Welcome, brother!"

(Daru): Aren says, "Brother!"

Lifting her hand in what might be the only sign of consolation, you say, "My apologies for Your loss Lord, but I must ask, as I was given to perhaps, misinformation that I must clear - was she affiliated with syssin arts, or Spinesreach?"

Damariel, the Unbound says to you, "She went because so many Trolls went. She integrated there, so that she would be able to help her people. It was unwise of her."

You say to Damariel, "And unwise of You, Lord. I will be the first to chastise such, even if You, Yourself, acknowledge it. You have obligations like the rest of us! When Your followers abide by Your teachings more in line than You, Yourself, what of us, then? We should not be setting a better example than our own God!"

Nola's figure begins to quiver and quake, the trembling present in every inch of the Daru woman, her eyes bright with a righteous fire, her breathing shallow and disturbed in her obvious upset by the revelation.

"It will not happen again," Damariel answers, sharply - perhaps too sharply. your words seem to have provoked a harsh, twisted anger in Him, and His eyes flare bright before He forces Himself to turn away.

Damariel, the Unbound says, "None of it will ever happen again."

Nola almost burns, a hot warmth radiating from her now as her rage builds, only enticed by the sharp reaction, "Do my words anger You, Lord? Does the TRUTH, anger You?" Then that fury turns into hot tears that begin to roll down her pale cheeks, jaw clenching tightly, and through gritted teeth, and it looks as though there is so much more she wishes to say, but simply can't speak the words, the mark of betrayal reflected clear enough in her face.

The sun begins her downward journey towards eventual sleep, casting even, full light upon the land.

Kerryn stands silent, her gaze shifting between Damariel and you.

"The tone you are taking with Me," Damariel shoots back, peering over His shoulder, "Is what I object to. Do you know what I have suffered, these last months?" He volleys back, one finger extending as He points. "I have been trying to save My people. I have been trying to save Trolls from slaughter. So was she, in the best way she knew how." There are tears in His eyes, too, eyes shot with red, rage shaking in His voice. "A war has split, slaughtered, and separated the very race I swore to protect. I was nearly killed by the Demon Blade. I fell into an abyss and crawled from it broken and I have the limp to show for it. ...and in all this, I loved, child. I loved."

Damariel, the Unbound says to you, "That was a mistake. I know it. It will not be repeated. Now torture Me no more, if you have any compassion for Me."

Nola returns the gesture, her hand quick to prod her finger forth into the air as the words quickly spring from her lips, out from her tight chest, "Compassion, Lord? COMPASSION!.. What about.. What about us who serve You so diligently.." Her words begin to break apart, failing her, but she struggles through it, "I have fought for the Light my entire Life, and stood in Truth through it all, and has my service not been solid to You in that regard? Did I not join You because of Your integrity? Because all the Others showed me They had none! I've lost my child to Death as well. I've lost loved ones too. I've lost many things in this long war, this battle being only one of many we've gone through. How can You try to stand there and use a mortal's justification as a Divine?!" Her eyes close tight, and her body curls over, hands forming fists with bone-white knuckles."YOU HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY TO YOUR FOLLOWERS! JUST LIKE WE HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY TO YOU!" she screams, and the words turn into sobbing, "Again, again.. it keeps happening again!"

Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound presses a burning twig against Damariel's flesh - and though the God winces, He bears it before the Arqeshi pulls it away and discards it. "In the name of Truth," the priest murmurs, not taking sides in the argument, "I cleanse You of the sin which you have committed and fetter You once more to our ways."

Kerryn steps closer to you, a hand moving to touch the other woman's shoulder gently.

Damariel has no answer. He only sinks against His cane, relying upon it to keep Him standing. There's only silence - silence and His own stare southward, into the Beryl Sea.

The stars wink into existence, familiar constellations illuminating the night with tales of myth and legend.

Mireia tells you, "How is everything? I've not caught up with you lately."

Nola finally finds her breath, though it is shaky still, the sobbing stifled until it is no more. Straightening up, she sets her sight back to the Unbound, and asks, "Would You expect me, Lord - knowing my faith, knowing my resolve.. Knowing my zeal. To stay with You, after this? Do You deserve my continued service? My sister's? Lianca's?"

Damariel still has no answer. He only moves away, deeper into the ship, leaving you, Kerryn, and Durmat behind Him.

Damariel leaves to the in.

The voice of Durmat carries on the wind, loudly enough that all can hear: "Set sail for Mostyn!"

A loud creaking fills the air as the capstan turns belowdeck.

The boat begins to rock slightly as the ropes tying the vessel to dock fly off their posts, each independently returning to a tight coil on the main deck.

The clanging of a brass bell in the crow's nest indicates that the ship is clear of the docks and the anchors are raised.

Waves crash against the bow of the boat as winds fill the great sails.

The voice of Durmat carries on the wind, loudly enough that all can hear: "All docked, Brotherhood! Welcome to blessed Mostyn!"

Kerryn creases her brow in a frown.

At length, Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound says, "I knew the Troll woman was no good."

Kerryn shakes her head slowly, "She cannot be blamed for -His- choices, Durmat."

Solemnly, you say, "No, she cannot."

You tell Grand Mistress Mireia Qefin, "It is a difficult time, at this moment.."

Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound says, "According to our fetters, He is absolved of His wrongdoing, just as any of us would be. He has been unstable ever since the war began. He let Himself be wounded last month, and this one, He has caused more death and destruction than I have seen from a God in some time."

Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound says, "He has burned. He has pillaged. I was talking to Hayim of it and he said it was like seeing the dead Truthseeker reincarnated."

You say, "I can not accept that. There are no loop holes to excuse a Divine's action."

Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound says, "I agree. The Troll woman was a byproduct of His laxity. He let her step into shadow and betray all that we stand for because He loved her. He would not have extended that courtesy to anybody else. Even Calipso, He cast out."

You say, "I am sure, though, by the looks of it. He was even worse than the dead Truthseeker."


Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound says, "He has given us tenets that say we must intervene. We have already done so, and He has not heard us. We must bring Him before the City that He answer for His crimes."

Kerryn bites down on her bottom lip, visibly troubled.

Nola's tears begin to pool again, her face showing a void of expression, the fire in her eyes a dim light compared to earlier. "It is Arion all over again," she whispers hoarsely.


Kerryn steps over to you and attempts to wrap a comforting arm around you, her expression one of sadness and confusion.

Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound squints upward, sighting toward the mast, his lips pursing. "I see Him up there," he notes, and then continues speaking more quietly. "A madness has been on Him since His return. All these rules. All these new commands, and all this cleansing. What for? We never needed any of it before..."

Something seems to possess Nola as she quietly steps away from the two of you, her footsteps dead against the boards of the ship as she seems to make her way towards the base of the mast. She pauses, only for a moment, before ascending upwards.

//at the base of the mast//

Damariel has just finished descending the ladder, and now sits at its base. He seems stunned, and is obviously in the wake of yet more tears. When He sees you, He looks up, and He speaks: "I understand that I have done wrong. I understand that there are eight people dead by My hand and houses burned down by My flames. I understand that I have been too lenient, with My own and with Myself. I can only beg for your forgiveness, Oracle."

Kerryn tells you, "Mind if we join you?"

You tell Auspicious Legacy, Abbess Kerryn Cardinalis, "Would you give me just a moment, sister?"

Kerryn tells you, "Of course."

 The marks of age and trial more apparent on her now than before, Nola speaks like one with a tired and broken spirit, "Then beg for it. Beg for it, unlike Your former self. Unlike Arion. Show me how You are different from Him. Take responsibility for Your actions and misdeeds, like I have taken responsibility as Your Oracle in pointing them out to You, even in the face of what could have been my own death. I take my service seriously. You need to take my service seriously as well, and Your own role. I am stronger now because I had to learn to look at my own feet and my own hands. Know that I do not need a Divine to follow my path, to follow Truth - but because I grew to love You and trust You, and because I believed in You as the rightful God of Truth, I allowed You into my life when I thought I was done with Your kin." She looks over her shoulder, back towards Kerryn and Durmat, saying, "and I have not abandoned You yet, so take that as You will."


"I take it as a sign of your faith," Damariel answers, hollowly, staring at the deck. "I am not a perfect God. Since My wounding at the Black Keep, the Truth has been a heavy burden. There is much that eludes Me - and in trying to remember it, I invite the same madness that claimed the Truthseeker before." His explanation continues, a slow, uneasy kind of ramble. "The Darkness hangs around Me, looking for a way in, looking for a way through, and I don't know how to shake it, Oracle. There are things that are too much to remember, and the not remembering is the worst. Words, on the tip of your tongue, but you don't quite know how to say them, not anymore..."


Defeated, Damariel, the Unbound says to you, "Please forgive Me. I have sinned and it was wrong. I made those rules to keep Myself away from it, and all of you away from it as well. Blood and meat recall My violence. So too does drink. So too do many things, small and large. I am only trying, but the Truth of many Epochs is a burden that I do not always carry properly."

With solemn and heavy words, Nola says, "You may not be a perfect God - I do not believe in perfect Gods, only faithful ones. Honest ones. My forgiveness is not easy to earn back, when You have stood above all standards, even my own, and did not live up to them. I am disappointed in You, my beloved Damariel. My heart is wounded by Your betrayal - You make me relive that madness again with You, do You understand yet? I am strong because I have to be strong, Lord. It is not an easy thing for any of us. The Darkness can not be stronger than the Light. You fear it - You must not fear it, that is how it has taken such control over You. In the words of my close friend and comrade, who has taught me as much as I have taught him, 'There is no try. There is only do, or do not do.'.. I do not need Your restrictions. Such things are already obvious obstacles in my life that I have removed. I also do not need a cleansing ritual, for if I fall so short that I should, I do not belong in Your service. Such a cleansing does nothing to absolve someone from their actions - the only absolving to be done is through effort to redeem oneself."

Damariel, the Unbound says to you, "The cleansing is not meant to forgive all sins. Durmat is not always right, child. It is only meant to reaffirm commitment. Mending and forgiveness is more difficult than this, and all of us fall at times."

You say to Damariel, "I can agree to that."

You say, "What will You do now, Lord? The others are waiting. I am still waiting, too."

Damariel sits up and forward, His arms crossing over His knees and His hands lacing together. "In fact," He decides, after a moment, "I would take issue with what your friend. Atonement and effort, even if not successful, are still worthy of honor. Intention must be considered. Always. If someone is falling short, they should be helped."

Bracing Himself on His cane, Damariel rises to His feet, wavering for a moment before He gains His balance.

You say to Damariel, "It is a matter of perspective, Lord, that has helped me through many things. It does not mean that it is always applicable, though. Sometimes, the only thing we can do, is try."

Nola breathing out another sigh, her hand lifts as she moves to Damariel, standing close to his side, saying, "You can lean on me, instead of that cane."

"One should always do what they can," Damariel assents, by way of gentle agreement. He leans across, resting some of His weight on you.

Nola places her hand against Damariel at his back to help steady him, "Let us join the others?"

Damariel nods His head at you.

Damariel follows you to the south.




Command deck.
Durmat, High Priest of the Unbound stands here, taking in the view. Auspicious Legacy, Abbess Kerryn Cardinalis is here.
You see exits leading north, northeast, northwest, and in.

Walking close beside Damariel with her hand at his back, Nola steps up onto the command deck to rejoin the two, Unbound in tow.

Kerryn glances first to you then to Damariel, her bottom lip captured between her teeth.


Damariel leans on you for a moment before He straightens up, balancing carefully before He gains His feet properly. He turns to Kerryn and Durmat, then glances back to you.

Nola simply dips her head in a small nod towards Damariel, having fallen patiently quiet.

Damariel, the Unbound asks, "This month, I fell into old ways and old habits. I will drag Myself back up, and we will move forward. Are there any questions?"


You say, "Words are a minute thing at this particular point, Lord. I would like to know what You've planned to do for the matter of atonement, or, rebuilding the lost trust that is among us now."

Damariel, the Unbound says to you, "We find a way to destroy the Demon Blade so that its fell influence can no longer taint the world."

Kerryn frowns faintly, her gaze lowering to stare at the deck briefly before returning to alight upon you and Damariel. "Is it the cause of Your outburst, Father?"

You say to Damariel, "While I feel the matter of mending trust should come first in order to see followers .. following, I understand the priority of the Demon Blade's destruction. What methods have been considered viable, if any?"

Damariel, the Unbound says to you, "None so far. Even volcanoes are out. The Blade might simply consume the volcano and become that much more powerful. There is, at present, no viable means before us."

Pulling out of the topic for a moment, Nola looks towards her brethren, saying softly, "It might be a good idea to offer Kerryn and Durmat some explanation first. They have not been part to our conversation, so I am sure their hearts are still discontent and wandering."

Damariel draws in a sharp breath. "I cannot remember anything past My return in this form," He states, calmly. "Shadows of what is hidden from Me prey at My mind." Continuing: "If I perceive them too clearly, I forget Myself. Many of the things which I have forbidden from our use are forbidden for reason that they make recollection clearer, and bring on My madness."

Damariel, the Unbound says, "This is what occurred this month. It is not the first time it has happened, as you, Preceptor, can speak to."

Kerryn gives a small nod of her head, "Aye, I remember Father." she says quietly, pale blue eyes study Damariel for a long moment before glancing to you. "If we cannot destroy it, perhaps we can ensure it's placed somewhere, where it will not cause harm?"

Damariel, the Unbound says, "That, at present, is the situation in which the Blade lies. I know where it is located and am able to find it if need be. Nonetheless, if it should cease to be within the power of its current caretakers, we need a means of destroying it permanently. It will only be trouble until it is sundered forever."

"I admit, I know very little about it. Mystery shrouds it, from what little I have read." Kerryn muses aloud, "What are some things we know for sure to be true about it and its history?"

You say, "I feel as if I have read something about it. A very distant memory."

You say, "I had studied many things on blades and weaponry because of the Axiom."

Kerryn looks to you, "Please share what you know?"


"Its time of creation and the means by which it was created are unknown," Damariel summarizes, "And I do not care to think back further at risk of incurring madness." He circles, leaning on His cane, squinting out toward sea. "The souls which the Blade has consumed have merged into a single entity - the Demon, Ruin, who defies even Our power. The Blade itself has the power to kill Gods. I was cut by it and it drove Me to madness then and there. I was lucky not to be slain outright."

Damariel, the Unbound asks you, "What do you know of the thing?"

You say to Damariel, "It is a tickle on the mind, Lord, nothing definitive. If I were to speak on what I remember, it is likely mixed with other things. I remember something about the Demon Mirror in the Consortium, for instance. The shards of the Sword of Truth. Things like that. I could probably track the document down again."

You say, "I am more concerned about the Demon, presently, and the prophecy we were recently given, all falling in line with these sudden events."

"The Blade and the Demon are linked," Damariel asserts. "The Blade is just as serious a matter, for it feeds the creature."

You say, "So by destroying the blade, the creature can not grow stronger?"


"So if we destroy it, it should be weakened enough for us to deal with it." Kerryn surmises, with a slight nod of her head.

Damariel, the Unbound says, "That is My present theory. It may even weaken the creature. It is hard to be sure."

Auspicious Legacy, Abbess Kerryn Cardinalis says, "Blood feeds it?"

Her gaze wandering towards the shore, you say, "While we are here at Mostyn, I'd like to visit the old library for a moment."

"Not blood. Death." Damariel glances toward Kerryn, turning about and hobbling His way back across the deck. "It consumes others to gain strength. You have seen it, surely? It withers. It cuts low."

Damariel nods His head at you.

You say, "I will not be very long."

Damariel, the Unbound says, "We will not leave without you."

You say, "Thank You."

/coming back/

You say, "There was nothing useful."

Quietly, Damariel, the Unbound says to you, "More's the pity."

Damariel, the Unbound says, "I'll return shortly. I'm taking us back to Enorian."

Damariel leaves to the north.

The ship changes course toward the Aalen.

The ship changes course toward the City of Enorian.

The voice of Durmat carries on the wind, loudly enough that all can hear: "Set sail for the City of Enorian!"

A loud creaking fills the air as the capstan turns belowdeck.

Damariel arrives from the north.

The clanging of a brass bell in the crow's nest indicates that the ship is clear of the docks and the anchors are raised.

Waves crash against the bow of the boat as winds fill the great sails.

The faint outline of land can be seen hazily in the distance.

Another clanging of a brass bell in the crow's nest causes a flurry of action, as the sails somehow take themselves down, slowing the mighty ship.

The ship continues to decrease in speed until the coiled ropes fly out to catch moorings, quickly tying the ship to land and causing a rapid deceleration.

"That's my thinking.. if normal fire can't destroy it.. what if the Great Spark holds the key?" Kerryn says, glancing to you, "I was thinking that perhaps the opposite might prove destructive to the blade.... as it feeds on Death.. to harm it with life."

The voice of Durmat carries on the wind, loudly enough that all can hear: "All docked, Brotherhood! Welcome to the City of Enorian!"

Nola simply shakes her head.

Kerryn adds, "Not to use the actual -Spark-, but similar."

You say, "There is no similar, besides the Crescent."

Kerryn cants her head, "Do you not gain your strength from it, thus become a channel for it's power?" she asks you.

You say, "I would not say our strength. It recharges our Inner Spark when we have used it to the extent that it is weakened. It allows us the fuel to continue our practices in Illumination."

Attaining her fullest glory, the shining sun sits upon her throne at the apex of her daily trek through the firmament.

You say, "There are ways to create another Crescent. The Daru had to perform a ritual to obtain the one we have now, because Arion stole the first, that was the original sliver of the Great Spark. Still, we know not its location."

Kerryn nods slowly as she listens, "Then perhaps Illumination can harm it."

You say, "Nor do we know the ritual, even having asked elders who were present."

You say, "We have tried for years to recover it."

"I'm not sure if that would be enough," Damariel finally allows. His tone is uncertain. "We have already considered and ruled out volcanoes. I do not think a Spark would necessarily fare any better."

Shaking her head, you say, "But I do not believe it is the way. For some reason, it does not seem the viable path. Mayhaps I am wrong."

You nod your head at Damariel.

Kerryn sighs and nods, "Alright." she says, her shoulders slumping slightly.

Nola brushes a few dark strands of hair aside, frowning a touch. "Not knowing how or what it is made of poses a lot of issues in determining what could be its undoing," she says with a wry smile.


Damariel, the Unbound says, "The issue with the thing is that it absorbs essence, more generally... It takes Godly essence and mortal essence without discriminating, and I believe there is evidence that suggests an appetite for elemental essence as well. The thing cuts deep - and more than simply flesh."


You say, "But, let us go off what we do know, then - The Demon that was captivated inside it is of Dischord and Ruin. It gains strength from death, alone? Or can it simply absorb at will?"

Damariel, the Unbound says, "It absorbs the strength and the souls of its victims and the Demon is the sum total of this process."

"Is not Souls Your Brother's domain, is He able to help?" Kerryn asks Damariel, curiously.

"The Demon, too," Damariel continues, "Spoke of venantium as one of the Blade's components. It described the Blade as a cage." He glances aside at Kerryn's comment, giving a few moments to properly consider the remark.

Damariel, the Unbound says, "I think it is fair to say that there are some places even My Brother cannot reach."

"Has anyone spoken to Qeddwyn about it, is not venantium used in much of his wares?" Kerryn glances to you, "Perhaps he might know of a way to destroy the blade."

Hand brushing at her face again, you say, "My apologies, but I find myself very tired.. I should go and rest."

"When I went by him to get this," Damariel cuts in, holding up His own cane by way of demonstration, "I asked. The Blade predates Ankyrean processes, so he's at just as much of a loss as we are."


Damariel, the Unbound asks you, "Will you be alright, child?"

Kerryn looks to you, "Rest well, Sister."

You say to Damariel, "I am right now Lord, simply tired, and will be better with time."

Damariel nods His head at you.

Damariel gives you a tight hug.

Nola seems startled by the sudden, unexpected contact, stiffening for a mere moment. She seems to relax, though, quickly after, and offers what would be the first, if not small, smile.

With a peck on your cheek, Damariel steps back, His arms dropping. His own smile, though tired and wan, seems sincere enough, and He keeps His gaze on you.

A black and white mutt sneaks in, tail wagging happily.

 Nola's fingers briefly touch her cheek, as if in recollection of something the peck brought on. Hand falling down to her side, it reaches out to give the oncoming mutt a ruffle to the top of the head, "Hello there, Skunk.." she says, then adds, "Good luck.".