Marcus - You feel a cold energy wrap around your body immobilizing you. Lysander, all the monks, and three clerics slump to the floor in a clatter. The Three towering dragons remain motionless bowing to the floor. The woman eagerly glides forward declaring to everyone, thank you for delivering these to us. One cleric still in control of himself turns to face the two, halt, you shall not defile this place witch. The man draws his mace ready to meet them. Petra growls from beyond your peripheral. She bounds across the floor leaping at the woman. The large man intercepts her, intricate lines on his arm flash red as he strikes with a fist. With a loud crack, blue scales raining down, she flies across the room slamming into the wall. The woman, black hair whipping about her delicate face, glares at the man and holds up three slender fingers, you said there would be three dragons. The man's stoic features unchanging and with a calm but powerful voice rebuttals, mistress, she was a whelp not of any concern. Scowling for a second her features turn to overwhelming joy, Father she breaths. Gracefully she strides up the dais, passing the readied cleric without a thought. Her hand reaches out, with trepidation, seizing the ring. Raising his mace the cleric readies to strike her down. The man following plucks the mace from his grip like a father would take a toy from a babe. With a casual back hand he strikes the cleric, another flash, the breastplate crumples under the force, the cleric lands in a heap on the floor blood pooling from the twisted metal. The woman slides the ring over her right middle finger her hands trembling in anticipation. Once on, the black ring twists and contorts, three serpents sprout from it winding down her finger. Her inane giggle sends a shiver down your spine, It is so good to hear your voice after all these years. her voice on the verge of ecstasy. The man without a word collects the sword and shield following the woman, still talking, back the way they came. Minutes? hours? you are unsure of how long you are frozen for. Relief comes as you feel the grip loosening. Two of the venetore burst into action, They shake their dragon from their stupor and sprint out of the hall. The remaining venetore helps the head cleric to his feet. Lysander seeing Petra on the floor rushes to her side. You overhear the venetore's and the head cleric's escalating argument. The venetore strokes his forehead in frustration, clearly dragons are not going to be effective against these people, but HE is adept at dealing with "their" type.
The cleric stands like stone, I will not release him. His fate is to be decided by the Archprelate himself.
The venetore growls in response, this is a military matter now I will not hear any more of it. If you stand in my way I will execute you myself for betraying the church in her hour of need.
The clerics eyes widen in surprise, The Archprelate will hear about this, and .. and then you'll be the one to get excommunicated.
His shoulders slump slightly with the weight of this, even giving the cleric a dark smile. If it would save the church I would gladly face his judgment, turning to Lysander and the now unsteady Petra, brother, I would beseech you, take up this task. You and Marcus, the monks will help you release our "asset" giving the cleric a dark look, and let nothing stop you. I fear five venetores will only slow our thieves down. I must follow our brothers the cleric will help, if he wishes to keep his head. Address any questions to him. with that he takes hold of his silver dragons reigns, you hear claws against stone as they race out of the cathedral.
Ink - Your small size allows you to slip through the thick crowds legs. As your nearing the cathedral you hear shouts from the platform. The two dragons, riders perched on their backs, take to the air. When you turn back to the drone you see it peaking around the buildings corner. Catching up with it you see the same two cloaked figures from before walk out of the wall in the side of the building and down a narrow street. Minutes later two dragons burst from the main doors, and take to the air with all haste. A third takes to the air mere moments later. Tixhin looks around nervously as he tries to catch the drone, well, this can't be good. tired of the chase the drone scurries down the same street the two figures took.
Bacta - As you near a small intersection, another sickening scream rings out from the street ahead and to your left. Carefully you peak around the corner, you spot around twenty figures shambling about, and a dozen others ripping corpses apart gnawing on the flesh. Fortunately, for you, they don't seem to notice your presence. One of the shambling figures draws your attention. Her blond hair sits about her shoulders, a floral wreath sits crooked on her head, and face ashen save for her bright red lipstick. With a chill creeping over you, she is one of the girls whom gave you such a warm welcome. You hear footsteps not far behind you.
Nornin - You, with some difficulty, trace your way back with only a few bumps and close calls on the cracks. Hearing a horrid scream from up a head you notice a cloaked figure carefully peak around the intersection. You are sure that the two shades, dancing and making obscene gestures, on his shoulders shouldn't be there. They look at you, one flips you off and the other shakes its spectral rear at you, then wisp away.
