Cullen seeks saving yet another Valmasian

The mythril-clad figure walks slowly towards Aisor. The light underneath his armor flickers, emitting a yellowish glow at each step that he takes, his heartbeats echoing on the insides of the cell. At each heartbeat, holy energy pulses on the room.

The Paladin stares down at the figure, yellow irises barely being visible through the smashed helmet.

"What's your name?" His voice is ridden with calmness, tranquility, and a certain feeling of peace. It was almost overwhelming as the voice itself seemed to be covered in holy energy.
(Paladin)

Aisor stood in darker corner of that prison with his arms crossed. The light from the outside seemed to be missing for quite some time, considering how the young nobleman squinted at the very opening of the cell.

"Who-" he was going to ask, but immediately enough, the dark haired one just stood properly, for he was leaning against the wall. Aisor was still wearing his very typical clothes, although now a little dirtied and marked from the fight. Around his neck, a very clear collar has been put, one a little too tight. "The name is Aisor."

He said, with a tone of bitterness on his voice. With a common sigh, he looked the man up and down, most importantly, staring at his armor.

"You don't look like a tribesman by any mean." the lad commented, his voice, still as smooth as it would be back ona Valmasian banquet. "And you aren't another prisoner either. Who are you, then?"
(Aisor Lightfellow)

The Paladin simply stared down at Aisor. His yellow gaze flickered with lighting, until his whole body seemed to turn off, the illumination of the room going out once again. As soon as Aisor said that he didn't look like a tribesman, it seemed time that Cullen would drop the holy paladin business.

Hazel irises almost shone as a dimmed down yellow lighting illuminated the insides of the man's battered helmet. His face moved slightly down as try to not look down on the man, instead letting him have an eye-to-eye conversation.

"I am the Paladin of Kraus, Aisor. For now, this is the name you shall know." Cullen instead examined Aisor's clothes and wear, to see if he sported anything that he could remotely identify.

However, one thing was easily possible for the valmasian prisoner to perceive. The man before him exuded calmness. Serenity. The pleasant sensations that came from him were so intense that it almost felt good to be locked up in a cell with him. Being constantly trapped with those feelings must be a pain in the ass. "And, for now, I am also your most probable salvation."
(Paladin)

What a strange, and intriguing altogether, visitor he had. The pair of blue eyes from Aisor's remained at the man's helmet after travelling up and down his armor yet again.

Paladin of Kraus, that definitely sounded like anything but what he would like to hear now under any other circumstance. But not now.

"My...Salvation, you say?" the lad asked as his hands remained besides his own body. Aisor was dressed just like the nobility would. A white heavy coat, adorned in some trims of gold and yellow, just over what was possible to be some kind of a suit. All of that, however, had it's own marks of battle. Not ruined, just marked. "I have been captured during the battle; mocked by a child and collared in this dark corner of the jungle."

He ranted, clearly not satisfied with his own situation. But bitternesswouldn't do him much good now.

"I beg your pardon for my lack of patience." he sighed yet again, closing his eyes for a moment and bringing them back to the armored paladin. "How could it be possible, however, is what I'm wondering, sir." although his very tone was still angered and somewhat impatient, there was a clear sign of respect for the man. Or at the very least, politeness. "What would it be you're meaning by that?"
(Aisor Lightfellow)

The Paladin kept on examining the man. In the best situation possible, he'd get the man out in a few months. He wanted to see no Valmasians rot in a cell, no matter how familiar they were to him, or how rude they'd be to him. He had made a promise to himself, for he felt the ardent need to save all those that he could.

The Krausite replied, his tone carried with apparent rigidness. It was not the tone of a cleric who offered free salvation, it was not the tone of someone offering him a free out of jail pass. It was the tone of a Paladin offering atonement for his previous acts.

"I am the one that can get you out of this cell as soon as I trust you'll do right by my objectives and by Gehennan objectives."

Both hands moved up, removing the helmet as the blonde hair was exposed. The searched face of Cullen Edderlin laid there, scarred minimally with Nagual claws on his lips.

"There's no one to say it anymore, so I'm going to give you the three options that they'll give you later on. Convert. Slave. Cremated. I would hate to do the two latter, but I'm not the highest authority here." A brief pause came. "I just figured that you'd like to convert to something that you already know and hate, probably, instead of what you don't know and hate the same."
(Paladin)

Those were options that, at their very core, weren't really pleasant or either attractive. Cremated, naturally wasn't a good idea for the nobleman who enjoyed his own life. Slave, much less. Adopting their own culture? That could ensure his own survival, but at what cost?

"This isn't anything near a fair deal." he commented, feeling a pressure on his heart. His eyes moved again, from the now exposed face of the Paladin - Cullen even -, to everywere around the cell. Even the exposing of his face weren't enough to actually drive his mind somewhere else. "This...Is not a choice I can make with a heavy mind and heart, sir."

The lad admitted, now even more confused than before. First, he thought to be dead, and now he had two options left that wouldn't lead into his death. Maybe he would be choosing the less of both evil.

"I will...Have questions, on what both implies. But I definitely need to...To think on these options." he closed his eyes again, nodding at the Paladin who, at the very least, seemed to care enough to help him. "I appreciate what you're doing to me, however. I'm...Certain, even, to have an answer for that in the future."
(Aisor Lightfellow)

Noa Huitzilopochtli has entered the room.


Noa Huitzilopochtli says, "..."

Noa Huitzilopochtli says, "No."

Noa Huitzilopochtli says, "No."
Cullen nodded, a faint smile coming to his face. The holy energy that emerged from his neck climbed up through his veins, slowly illuminating the room as a pleasant hum could be heard in the background of Aisor's head. He did not expect the man to take it so upfront, but he did!

At least, Aisor had the good luck of being brought these options by the most sympathetic and naïve person in all of Gehenna. Old Cullen wouldn't have questioned him for if he was doing it just to save himself. However, this new one, that identified himself as the Paladin of Kraus --

He would. "I do not need an answer now, Aisor. Neither do they. I'm merely telling you what they're going to say in a while. Think about it. Should you wish to know more, I will gladly help."

His smile widened slightly as the helmet once again was put over his head, very poorly thanks to the smashed metal that now composed it. "I know it's going to be hard giving up on Azraelism, but this is more than a question of fate. Take this decision bearing only your own survival in mind, and you'll be sure to regret it."
(Paladin)