[center][h2][color=Red]Illium Vethelot[/color][/h2][/center]

Illium entered the church as the dragonoid responded to his inquiry. Again, he had to force himself to remember that these people weren't anything to him. He swallowed his retort and simply searched for a spot to rest while he waited for the oracle. Her arrival moments later was met with a raised eyebrow from a pew not far from the back of the church. 

At times during her spiel, his eyes scrunched up in confusion. 

[color=red]"Wait, why have I been chosen..?"[/color], he asked aloud to the oracle. There was no reason why he of all the people he had ever served with couldn't have been chosen. His time in the army was almost up and he was just about to retire before being dragged into all this. 

Any answer he would have heard was immediately drowned out by the sound of pews crashing against one another. The red toned dragon-human hybrid was punched and told to leave. Illium may not have cared for these people, but he was still a protector of sorts. His calloused hands grasped around the spear sitting across his lap and he rose from his position while sitting. Years of battle had taught him to be ready for anything, and he assumed a stance so he could spring into action if need be.