Asychis possessed a healthy disdain and distaste for the royalty. This sort of loathing was born upon his epiphany of how the dervishes of Ibzya manipulated the people, using their weakness and need for water in order to send them off to their deaths by claiming the caves from the gnolls. Spineless priests with their heads in the sands, vouching for power within their bloodlines as they scoff and drink from their ivory towers, pretending that they knew how it felt to have your throat too parched to speak and breathe. They speak to the masses as if they understood the brunt of carrying a pot of water from an oasis ten miles from home, your skin seared by the sun and your back bent by the weight of the liquid gold. Their baseless prayers to the Sun God a clear sign of their hypocrisy, they ask for water for the people yet they themselves deprive such basic commodities to the dying. They were all pretenders, the lot of them. And, Asychis despised the priests with great fury. However, again, the teachings of the monks have reminded him that rage is best when controlled.
So, as a man began to guide through the palace territory, Asychis tried to keep an unimpressed façade, but the sheer glamor and architectural flawlessness of the structure cracked his resolve. Though he is unfamiliar with the different sculptures of deities of old, he still marveled at the intricacy of it all. The Daughters of Love and Beauty, as they were called. Asychis tilted his head at such a masterpiece, somewhat pondering whether the boldness and freedom that seeped from the stone arts was what love and beauty was all about. Love was being exposed, being vulnerable yet love still possessed strength and fang; love was not only about exposing oneself to danger but also serving as a shield and sword for the significant other. As the monks always said: 'love never counts the cost, but it gives everything to the beloved'.
Soon, the party of hunters entered the grand hall as they were met with the pompous, stoic... annoying faces of these nobles. It was normal for royalties such as these to always look strong, untouchable from their vantage point. They always seemed invincible from afar, but when the straws were drawn, when these people, born with a silver spoon in their posteriors, would grasp the short end of the stick, they all seem to beg for mercy. They throw down their pride for the sake of living another day, too attached to this materialistic life that they forget in the life after this-- a place where they cannot take their fancy titles and flowing riches. This sort of belief was the founding principle of the Monks, a good reason why they always only wear the tattered and hand-me-down tunics and cloaks. The man named as Firenze had painstakingly given them instructions on how to interact with the people inside: a kiss on the ring, keep silent, and other ridiculous practices. If Asychis had his way, he would have spit on these nobles.
In all honesty, nothing irked Asychis more than nobles. Gnolls were one thing, but these royalties were in their own league of hatefulness.
Now, the Phoenix was quite famous when it for the members of the Order, expelled or not. The Order had always frowned upon the use of Blood Magic which was strange, considering that as long as Blood Magic was not used for anything harmful, it was perfectly okay. The young monk remained perfectly neutral towards the Phoenix, but one of their members, Vessandra, had a reputation of messing with the hunters through her provocations. Well, Asychis was confident that he was too insignificant to stand out, and even now, as long as he doesn't pay heed to the duchess' snide grins, then, he would be safe. So, as the plenary session began, it was Master Lethodus who spoke on behalf of the hunters. Truthfully, Asychis welcomed his passive role, and was contented with merely listening as these affairs were quite new to him since he had spent his years in Ibzya where nothing really happens aside from gnolls.
As Lethodus spoke about this secret evil that has began its onslaught of plagues, Asychis noticed that Yin's features looked a wee bit unnerved. As the timid girl stood at the back of the formation, Asychis also stood beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder as he smiled. "It'll be all right, I believe." Asychis whispered, careful not to draw too much attention. But, with the crowd's focus on Lethodus, it was unlikely that the two young hunters would be put into the spotlight. "We're hunters," Well, I once was one. "What's the worse that could happen?" Asychis grinned before turning to Lethodus, eyes hopeful of an easy time in Isamanca for the sake of Master Lydic's dying wish.
So, as a man began to guide through the palace territory, Asychis tried to keep an unimpressed façade, but the sheer glamor and architectural flawlessness of the structure cracked his resolve. Though he is unfamiliar with the different sculptures of deities of old, he still marveled at the intricacy of it all. The Daughters of Love and Beauty, as they were called. Asychis tilted his head at such a masterpiece, somewhat pondering whether the boldness and freedom that seeped from the stone arts was what love and beauty was all about. Love was being exposed, being vulnerable yet love still possessed strength and fang; love was not only about exposing oneself to danger but also serving as a shield and sword for the significant other. As the monks always said: 'love never counts the cost, but it gives everything to the beloved'.
Soon, the party of hunters entered the grand hall as they were met with the pompous, stoic... annoying faces of these nobles. It was normal for royalties such as these to always look strong, untouchable from their vantage point. They always seemed invincible from afar, but when the straws were drawn, when these people, born with a silver spoon in their posteriors, would grasp the short end of the stick, they all seem to beg for mercy. They throw down their pride for the sake of living another day, too attached to this materialistic life that they forget in the life after this-- a place where they cannot take their fancy titles and flowing riches. This sort of belief was the founding principle of the Monks, a good reason why they always only wear the tattered and hand-me-down tunics and cloaks. The man named as Firenze had painstakingly given them instructions on how to interact with the people inside: a kiss on the ring, keep silent, and other ridiculous practices. If Asychis had his way, he would have spit on these nobles.
In all honesty, nothing irked Asychis more than nobles. Gnolls were one thing, but these royalties were in their own league of hatefulness.
Now, the Phoenix was quite famous when it for the members of the Order, expelled or not. The Order had always frowned upon the use of Blood Magic which was strange, considering that as long as Blood Magic was not used for anything harmful, it was perfectly okay. The young monk remained perfectly neutral towards the Phoenix, but one of their members, Vessandra, had a reputation of messing with the hunters through her provocations. Well, Asychis was confident that he was too insignificant to stand out, and even now, as long as he doesn't pay heed to the duchess' snide grins, then, he would be safe. So, as the plenary session began, it was Master Lethodus who spoke on behalf of the hunters. Truthfully, Asychis welcomed his passive role, and was contented with merely listening as these affairs were quite new to him since he had spent his years in Ibzya where nothing really happens aside from gnolls.
As Lethodus spoke about this secret evil that has began its onslaught of plagues, Asychis noticed that Yin's features looked a wee bit unnerved. As the timid girl stood at the back of the formation, Asychis also stood beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder as he smiled. "It'll be all right, I believe." Asychis whispered, careful not to draw too much attention. But, with the crowd's focus on Lethodus, it was unlikely that the two young hunters would be put into the spotlight. "We're hunters," Well, I once was one. "What's the worse that could happen?" Asychis grinned before turning to Lethodus, eyes hopeful of an easy time in Isamanca for the sake of Master Lydic's dying wish.