"Well now, there's an interesting idea Lyullia," Zay moaned through another yawn, "We need scouts at all times, and somebody to maintain the Caravan if we hit any bumps in the road. I can cook something good if I'm in a good mood, but we have enough as-is rations stored for weeks, just in case we get stranded. Additionally, a forward scout comes in handy to keep us ahead of the beasties. That's why I brought Daelin on board." Zay jostled his shoulders a bit. "Scouting ahead of the Caravan is not common for missions like ours. It's dangerous as hell. But Daelin seemed willing." He paused again and turned over in his bunk, facing his back to the rest of the squad. "Other then that, there isn't much to be done. I'll go over some other stuff later... Let me just close my eyes for a bit."

Pyra nods and gives a thumbs up to Daelin, taking the rock and accidentally tossing it too high at the ceiling, then presses it against the ceiling for a hot second with his mana, then lets it fall back into his hand. As far as he could tell, he didn't have anything else to do for the time being, and he didn't feel like napping.

Around the time that Pyra's rock ricocheted off the roof, the cart roared to life with a series of hefting clanks. Rolling wheels began to tread across the barracks floor at a steady pace. Marilyn had gotten things moving already! That didn't put Zay in the best mood though. He peeled his eyes open and grunted before getting back on his feet with a light swing of his legs.

"Right, I guess we're moving already."

Of course they were! It was past 10 AM already. If they didn't leave now, they were sure to fall behind schedule. What bothered Zay is that he wouldn't be allowed to take his little nap until after all the formalities had been dealt with, the first of which included answering to Major Hanz Farrell. He stood up and walked towards the pilot's balcony, hefting himself forward like he was wading through tar.

The front of the Caravan was awfully spacious, despite the fact that Marilyn would be the only one out front most of the time. There was an overhang above to prevent the weather and sun from interfering with the pilot's work, held in place by two pillars at the both front-most corners of the bow. A single seat sat between them for the pilot to sit, with a low hanging fence reaching about a foot above Zay's knees all around the exterior. It prevented falling forward sometimes, but its main purpose was to keep the cart attached to its Venbu. There were several latches attached to intricate harnesses that wrapped around the entire body of each Venbu, to which Marilyn had full control over their movement with a combination of the right verbal commands and gentle tugs. A lot of new pilots had a tendency to pull their reigns without restraint, but Marilyn looked like she'd been working the beasts for decades already! A natural pro. Behind her seat were two rows of benches were the rest of the crew would sit if they needed to see further out, with a small path in the middle that lead back into the Caravan. Behind those seat, and to the right side of the Caravan's entrance, there was a small ladder leading up onto the roof through a hatch in the overhang. The roof above them was flattened, with a couple benches on either side and an equally high fence installed for safety.

As they approached the exit gate, it opened wide and the Venbu came to a stop just outside. Major Farrell was waiting near the side of the archway with a clipboard in his hand, just as expected.

"Caravan Centaurus, lead by..." He looked up and snickered when he realized it to be true. "...Captain Zay Copp. You've been confirmed for takeoff at 10 AM." He checked his watch and nodded. "Proceed to the Sunken Ramparts for final review." He knocked on the side of the Caravan to signal they were free to leave, and smirked. "Good luck."

"It's just a diplomacy mission Hanz. Get your head outta' your ass," Zay spat, gentle tapping Marilyn's shoulder. The girl nodded and whipped her reigns. Hanz kissed his teeth and returned to his clipboard as the Venbu pulled their Caravan through Arcadia.

"You don't see many Eldi with the knights," Noru grunted, moving from his bunk towards the small rounded table, "If we don't demonstrate some level of camaraderie, Captain Copp will start to share his diminutive tales of loss. It isn't good for morale." He looked around the cart for a moment. Flin and Daelin didn't seem too walled off from everyone else. But the other two didn't even look like they wanted to be here. Even Marilyn demonstrated her excitement, albeit through a series of nervous bouncing. That girl had her head in the clouds. "I don't suppose this is your first time outside the walls?" His voice was dripping with judgement. Noru hated having to mingle, and he wasn't too fond of the Eldi, but knew that there was some truth to Zay's little spiels. The better you knew somebody, the better you'd work together. He just wished there wasn't a need to mix and match Knights in each Caravan between every damn mission.



Smack dab in the middle of Berganfont sat a sad little establishment that served food and drink. It was smaller than most, maybe 800 square feet in its entirety, counting the front, the kitchen, and where the owners slept. From outside it looked like a dump. Vines and mold climbed one side of the building, wrapping around its only window towards the sign that read 'Lily's Keg' above the hollow door frame that lead inside.

Despite its unsavory exterior, the interior was very clean. Two small tables sat on either side of the front room with a few wooden chairs that looked like they'd gone through the sea at least twice. The bar itself reached across the entire width of the room, but it looked absolutely brand new. That was because the human owner, Lilith Casteli could be found behind the bar at almost any point in the day until 4 AM, polishing it clean with one of her rags. Lilith was a fine looking woman, lithe and gentle albeit with a rough way of handling things. She always kept her curly brown hair in a bun while she worked, but could never stop a few strands from getting free by the afternoon. Most would define her as a well kept woman with the working spirit of a horse, but she was awfully skinny for her height. Truth was, she starved herself for her kids a lot of the time, but you could never tell by looking at her.

For most, Lilith's little home away from home was a cheap retreat from Berganfont's slowly declining economy. For those with money, it was a quaint escape from the High Houses where their expensive dining had lost its flair. The generous tips that those rich folk left in their wake were the only thing keeping her afloat. She didn't know what she would do if they stopped coming around. The last thing her family wanted was for their mother to fall into the underground world of prostitution. They'd sooner become thieves! Imagine that, two teenage boys willing to pickpocket to protect their mother. It was heartwarming and devastating, all the same.

Most lived like that in the Low Houses. Without magic to keep their city growing Berganfont could only depend on trade and luck. The Nation was lucky enough to even exist. Monsters didn't come around, but its people couldn't escape the borders either. They depended solely on the private Caravans that came from Arcadia and Marrenfall to keep afloat. Where did that leave people like the Castelis? In hell.

This morning was quieter than most for Lilith, but she didn't mind. The lull in business gave her time to think and prepare for the rest of the day. With only 5 hours of sleep, it was moments like this that gave her the strength to move on. She was methodical like that, polishing glasses and fervently rubbing rags across the bar top to keep herself calm. She'd often stare at customers too long or lose herself daydreaming if she didn't manage herself properly, not that the regulars cared all that much. They were just happy to have a healthy distraction, both in the bar's product, and Lilith herself. Who could get tired of looking at those softly lit emerald eyes? Even when she spoke, her customers found it comforting. She didn't even have to lie to them, or hold back her own woes. Her honesty and pretty face, paired with a comforting tune, kept the Low House drunks in good company. Despite all of the poor conditions, the community in this drab chunk of Berganfont was tightly knit. Lilith just happened to be a focal point for a few souls at a time.

The doorbell chimed and Lilith snapped out of her stupor almost immediately. It wasn't one of her regulars, not anyone from the Low Houses anyways. She recognized him as Father Myron, one of the priests of the local church. Lilith wasn't religious at all, she hated the gods and their teachings in any light, but she saw Father Myron almost on a daily basis. He'd order something to eat if it was early or something to drink if it was late, all while trying to convince Lilith to attend his service at least once. She'd always politely decline him. Father Myron spent a lot of money at her place. Telling him to take a hike was not in her best interest. As he approached the bar, draped in a black robe with his dark hair slicked back neatly, he offered Lilith a smile. She smiled back, waving her dainty little arm for half a second before returning her attention to the bar top.

"That looks clean," Myron assured her. His voice was just unusually hoarse today. For a man in his twenties who spoke to a hall of over 200 people daily, maybe it wasn't too unusual. For Lilith, it was strange enough to hear Myron's usual voice tampered so terribly.

"You're not soundin' too smooth today, Myron," Lilith barked, ignoring his comment while she continued to polish the bar top.

"Sickness my de-"

"Sickness my ass, you've been going to those Bishop Ceremonies, haven't you?" Myron sat down and interlocked his fingers quietly. "You know that shit is shady Myron."

"They've given me a chance," He rasped, "Arch Bishop Ramon made it happen himself... He came to me directly. I'd be a fool to decline his offer." Lilith's gentle features went tense. She shook her head so violently that her curly brown hair flailed from side to side, almost coming undone from its tightly wrapped bun. "Don't do that."

"Shaddup." Lilith slammed the bar top and looked towards the doorway behind her. "Boys! Eggs! Myron style!" Two little voices barely rang back with acknowledgement.

_{"Of course!"
"You bet!"}

"That's fine, right?" Myron nodded. Lilith looked him over with the corner of her mouth pulled back anxiously. She'd taken a liking to Myron despite all of his holy speeches. He wasn't a bad guy, and he certainly wasn't bad looking either. He was just a little too eager to serve his superiors, and that stupid god of his. The priest stared at his fingers nervously, waiting for his food to arrive. Usually he'd be talking up a storm by now. His vocal chords probably wouldn't allow it though. "You know, you're starting to look and sound like the Bishops more and more each day." Myron smiled. Lilith frowned. "That's not a compliment.

"It is, though."

"No, it's not. Those people are seriously messed up Myron!" She grunted to herself and put both hand son her hips. "Do you know how many priests go missing every year to that shit?"

"The unworthy." Lilith froze and her eyes went incredibly wide.

"Excuse me?!" Myron looked up at Lilith with his mouth hanging open.

"S-Sorry." She shook her head and slapped her rag on the bar top.

"Get out."

"I didn't mean to insult-"

"No no, I know what you meant. Get out." Lilith's children shimmied up to the side of the kitchen's door frame and peered around its edge. One of them wielded a spatula aggressively, standing a few inches taller than his brother. Myron sat quietly, not moving a muscle. "I don't mean later. I mean now. Right now." The priest's eyes wandered until he let out a sad huff and pushed himself away from the bar. He began making his way out of Lilith's place, half expecting her to call him back.

She didn't.

"No, I came from outside the walls" Pyra responded dryly, pocketing the rock for now. "Spent more time outside them than I have inside, myself. How about you? Born inside the walls?" He asked the knight who seemed to have more pride than one really needed, in his opinion. Too... stiff. He had known a couple Eldi like that, back in his time. Pricks, the lot of them.

WOW I SURE DO LOVE HOW THIS PLACE DOESN'T ALLOW YOU TO DELETE YOUR POSTS OR EVEN REPORT THEM

Noru nodded. "I was born in the Varnish District. Now it's more of a slum than anything else. Thankfully I got my family out of there a year after signing up with the knights." He looked over to Lyullia, the other un-talkative and somewhat abrasive member of their team. "I don't suppose you're from outside the city as well? You strike me as native to Marrenfall." He gestured towards her hands subtly. "Worker's hands."

After taking a quick look at her own hands - they hadn't struck her as worker's hand's per say - before answering Noru.

"Well, you got that right. I'm indeed from Marrenfall, travelled here a year or so ago to find more books to read. Ended up becoming a Knight because I quite liked the prospect of not starving. And now I'm here, in a cart, with you guys. Feeling rather unqualified because while I can make things, I'd rather not kill things even if we have to."

Noru scoffed at her comment. "This job is far more peaceful than one might expect at first. Unless you're assigned to a hunting Caravan, or a war breaks out, you'll likely never have to kill anything." He shook his head. "But it's odd you would register as a knight despite that. There are plenty of jobs for mages in Arcadia... Though recently, it has been exceedingly difficult for newcomers to support themselves on a working wage." Noru sighed and tapped his forehead. "It's a handicap if we do end up in danger though. If you're face to face with something that wants you dead, the most efficient way to keep yourself alive is to kill it first."

"I understand that, and to be fair if I was threatened enough I probably wouldn't hesitate, but I would rather not fight fights that could be avoided by diplomacy or by simply not being a jerk."

Sighing, Lyullia shrugged.

"As for why I became a Knight, it basically was the job that I came across early on that seemed good enough, and I didn't really bother to look further. That being said, my magic is rather limited to me being able to create only metal, so I'd probably be better off as a blacksmith or something rather than something else for a mage."

Flin rose from his bunk, as the Caravan made it's way through Arcadia. He casually walked through the front of the caravan, and climbed up the ladder behind the benches near Marylin on the right side. He reached the roof of the caravan, but he didn't rush it. He didn't want to lose his balance and fall off, after all. The man slowly made his way towards one of the benches and sat down, having a good view of everything further ahead.

'Quite a sight to behold. I should be able to spot a lot of stuff at large distances away from up here.' He thought. He wasn't too keen on speaking to anyone else, unless someone actually went up there with him. He didn't have a good impression on anyone besides Daelin so far. Despite this, he didn't like being bored, so he figured he might as well be a look-out for now. He grabbed his guitar, and began to softly play music on it. It was an adventurous, mysterious theme.

"That would land you a stable income, if there was any demand for metal in Arcadia. As it stands, the only minerals that aren't already abundant can't be created through raw elemental crafting alone. Perhaps it was best for you to join up with the Arcadian knights. Caravan parts aren't exactly compact. In the case of a catastrophic failure, having somebody like you around would be a godsend." Noru straightened his back and looked towards the front of the Caravan as Flin left. "But in any case, patience is the most important trait that any knight can have. Without it, you'd be better off in the slums."

Marilyn didn't notice Flin pass behind him. She was focused on keeping the Venbu steady. It was especially important on these busy roads. Accidents happened more often than the government liked to admit, usually because new pilots underestimate how unpredictable Venbu can be with the wrong tug of their reigns.

On top of the Cart, Flin could see only parts of the outer districts through the cover of large buildings. Near the Ivory Pillar's military barracks were industrial zones, dedicated to producing food and raw materials for the rest of the city. Some of the larger buildings functioned like factories, creating enough food to surplus for months in the case of famine. Others were more compact, and dedicated to making specialty products like watches, magical appliances, and other interesting contraptions. Arcadia wasn't exactly known for its technology though. Very few of the buildings they passed by were anything more than labor factories. Centaurus was just about to leave the upper industrial district now. It came across a large wide open gateway that lead into the first commercial district. A few knights hailed them as they passed by, while nearby civilians looked up at the Caravan with mixed thoughts. Most citizens knew the need for their Caravans and held a great amount of respect for their knights. Others were indifferent. Some were resentful. To the untrained eye though, they all looked to have the same reaction.

Flin's view opened up immensely once they made it several yards into the commercial district. The tallest buildings were behind them, and they were still atop one of the highest districts in Arcadia's layered Nation. Looking down at the collection of buildings below was like scouring a hill from the top. With nothing but rooftops to show for it though, the sight wasn't all too spectacular unless you knew where to look. Part of the excitement was ripped away when the giant white walls of the Nation came into view. A lot of people weren't fond of the defensive ramparts, even if they kept them safe from the outside world. After a while, Arcadia's interior could become ugly and cold. Without the right to ride a Caravan, you wouldn't every get a chance to see the lushness of Thoris' jungles or the wide open seas. The knights weren't exactly handing out field trips, after all.

Zay pushed his way back inside the Caravan and walked past everyone else towards the storage area. He just realized something very important. They hadn't closed the back of the Caravan. Its giant metal slab of a gate was hanging loosely behind it, bouncing uncontrollably over the bumps. He rolled his eyes, carefully stepped onto the metal door, and grabbed one of the chains with both hands before yanking the entire gate shut with a loud click. Noru looked back at him and shook his head.

"I was wondering when he would notice that."

"You guys coulda' done something, or said something," Zay grunted from behind the storage room walls, opening one of the barrels in the back.

"Captain's duties," Noru quipped. Zay peered past the doorway with his mouth half open and his finger raised, as if to scold Noru. But he ended up gritting his teeth and waggling his finger into a fist while turning away. It was technically his fault.



The mass for Maeti had just ended, right on schedule. It was sparse for a morning mass that christened the new month. But people seemed eager to leave, especially the youngest attendees. One woman refused however, firmly planted in her seat at the front of the temple while the Paladin Priest was preparing for the afternoon attendance. She sat with her head tilted slightly forward, buried in her hands as she muttered something barely audibly under her breath. Her husband sat next to her patiently, checking his watch every minute while he waited for her to finish.

_{"...Bless the knowledge that flows...Keep them safe...Return...To us without harm..."} Her husband tried to gently rush her to the end of the prayer, but as he brushed her pale hair aside, the woman pulled away from him and continued frantically, whispering even faster to herself. He couldn't even see his wife's face through her thick, snow white hair. This past year had been the hardest for them. Two daughters and one son had left Unesa in search of something greater, all without a single word to either of the people who raised them. Francis Patten understood it. They were at that age. Unesa was a small town, barely sturdy enough to contain the dreams of those who wished for more in life. Though it was one of the most well-taught locations in Marrenfall, most of its citizens subscribed to the church and dedicated more of their time to prayer than any sort of advancements. Francis' wife was one of those people, too obsessed with the idea that her children may return one day to maintain her duties adequately. Her job wasn't too physically demanding, but while she had her head up in the clouds, the Unesa Library had become a jaded shadow of its former glory. Books went missing, the stacks were unorganized, and donations were at an all time low. If it wasn't for the fact that the Library's owner was equally as devout, Maribelle would have lost her occupation ages ago. Idiots love company, Francis thought to himself. That's how the saying went, right? Or was it misery love company. Either would work just as well in this case. This past year had been nothing but misery for him. Maribelle was miserable company to keep. She didn't seem to care about him in the least, and honestly, the same could be said for him. If this went on any longer, Francis had no intention of sticking around.

"It's 5 minutes past 12," Francis whispered, tapping his watch impatiently. Maribelle slowly rose from the cover of her palms and looked that the statue of Maeti with wet eyes. Those statues were a complete sham. Every church in Marrenfall had a different depiction of the Paladin god. But she didn't know, or care. Faith could do crazy things to a person's reasoning. Maribelle turned her head towards Francis with a saddened expression, and then turned away to gather herself. Without a word, she finally arose and made her way towards the exit. Francis sighed and trailed closely behind.

Daelin pulled a deck of cards out from a pack. "You guys always this dour? And I thought lookin' at trees all the time got me moody." He smiled a little as he shifted his eyes between those present and glanced at the opening in the roof. "How 'bout a hand? Lighten the mood a little. There's no reason to watch outside for another good hour. Once we're clear of the city limits it can be all business and career talk." He shuffled through the cards quickly. It was very clear he'd done this many times.

Daelin turned his eyes to Lyullia. "Money is a good enough motivator. Mine was family. Love my dad. Crazy, excitable fool but that makes him so much fun. He lost both his legs and survived. He's still kickin' and spittin' fire like nothing ever changed, too. Pretty inspirin' to me." Daelin finished his shuffling, pressing the edge of the deck against the table before placing the whole thing face-down. "Come on, let's have a game. You too, Noru." He raised his voice to grab the attention of their bard. "Get down here Flin! It's time for mandatory fun."

'Mandatory?' Noru thought to himself. No wonder Daelin got along with Zay. They both seemed a little too care-free for his taste. Of course as soon as he'd heard Daelin's offer, Zay was sitting down at the table with his hands eagerly tapping against the wood. He had a ration stuck in his mouth and narrow eyes. The Captain loved playing cards.

Pyra simply stood up and moved to a pull down bed, pulling down said bed, to make room for someone else to take his chair "Go ahead, I'm not particularly in the mood to play cards at the moment. I might join in in a couple of rounds though." He sighs, wondering what game they're playing. He was acquainted with most games of cards, but not particularly good at any of them... He didn't have a very good neutral expression, to be honest, he always looked like he got a bad hand.

Lyullia sighs as Daelin pulls out a pack of cards, and instead pulls a book out of her bag.

"Sorry, but I'll pass on the cards. I don't know how to play cards and I'd much rather read a book instead, so maybe some other time."

Sitting down somewhere nearby, Lyullia starts reading. The books she'd taken with her were mostly informative, but she'd also taken a novel with her just in case she got really bored, just like now.

Flin heard Daelin call for him, and stopped playing abruptly. He put his guitar on his back and began to climb the ladder. But then, he lost his grip and his feet slipped off. "GAAAHH!" He blurted out, collapsing into the ground. Fortunately, he hadn't fallen from too high. He scrambled on his feet with a surprised look. "Impossible...I slipped-" He blurted out, and looked at everyone else. He scoffed at them briefly. "Errr, no, that's impossible! Clearly this ladder was poorly designed." He claimed, pointing at the ladder, to hide the fact that he'd screwed up. He advanced towards the table and he sat down.

Zay yanked his head sideways as if to say 'oh well' before making himself comfortable. And then Flin, in the most ungraceful way possible, fell from the ladder. Falling was already bad enough. The fact that he didn't sustain any injuries at all was unbelievable. But his excuse afterwards? It was quite literally one of the stupidest things Zay had heard in his entire life.

"Flin, we're allowed to make a few little mistakes here and there," Zay mumbled into a yawn, "But could you not act like a moron? I'm lax about most things, but I won't tolerate immature or idiotic behavior, especially lying." He paused and turned to him. "That includes making buffoonish excuses like you're some character out of a children's storybook." Noru snickered at Zay's comment. Marilyn didn't care one way or the other, keeping her head straight forward.

"I'll play a few rounds," Noru conceded. His mood had taken a sudden turn for the better. He sat in a chair so that the table was evened out, making sure that the others couldn't peek at his hands. "What are we playing?"

Flin rolled his eyes at Zay's mean comments. He looked displeased, about to make some nasty comment in response. But he stopped himself, and smiled instead. But it wasn't a fake grin. It was as if he'd realised something. "Well, at least you didn't burst out laughing at my fall like a complete idiot would." He replied, nodding at Noru as he joined them at the table. He looked at Zay. "Anyways, I apologise for lying, captain." He said. He seemed to be a bit more respectful towards him now. The captain was quite serious when he needed to be, which improved Flin's opinion on the man a tad despite his jabs at him.

"It's fine. There are only three kinds of people that make me angry in the world, Lieutenant; Liars, idiots, and murderers." He shook his head from side to side quickly and tapped the table. "Hurry up and pick a game! It'll be at least an hour before we reach the Sunken Ramparts." Noru rolled his eyes and smirked, eyeing Lyullia and Pyra. They seemed a little constrained, even more than he was. It served as a reminder to keep his composure tight, and undiminished. The dark haired Lieutenant straightened his back again and folded his hands together, waiting for the game to start.



Very few got a chance to step foot into the Paladin order's holiest chamber. It was a room of splendor and holiness from which the highest ranking Paladins organized their missions across Thoris, and spoke with Maeti himself. It was certainly the central hub for all things holy, but that whole shtick about being able to directly speak with god himself had never been true. It was a rumor in its entirety, one that the Paladin's themselves have denied. Exodar Ramsey has himself made it clear on multiple occasions that it is a nonsensical tale of wonderment brought up by children and fools. Many refuse to believe him, but with so many pressing matters to attend to as the head of the Paladin order, and the leading General of Arcadia's armies, Exodar allows the people to believe what they want. It doesn't harm the order, nor do they reap benefits from a few misguided children of god. The same could not be said for the offshoots of Maeti's following in Marrenfall. Those wretched churches have clung to that myth with gusto, claiming that Maeti communes with all Paladins. Prayers will be answered, wishes will be granted, wealth will come, sickness will go, all in exchange for prayer and reparations.... Drivel, the lot of it! It was a chain of nastiness that preyed on the weakness of Maeti's people. If relations between Arcadia and Marrenfall were not so important, Father Ramsey would have seen to the end of those terrible 'houses of god' himself ages ago!

"Father Ramsey," A woman called from the entryway of his holy chamber, slowly making her way across the red velvet carpet leading from the entrance, to Maeti's holy shrine at the room's other end. She wore a shimmering set of marked armor, bestowed to only the highest ranking Paladins of Arcadia's order. Silver plating covered every inch of her body, hiding all features beneath a sheen that refracted light brilliantly. "I've received word that the last of our Caravans are set to leave within the next two hours." Exodar was lost in thought. He knelt before the shrine to Maeti, donning his hefty golden armor with closed eyes and a puzzled look smeared across his face. The woman paused mid-way through the room, and rested herself on one of the stone pillars that lined each side of the velvet path. "Sir? did you hear me?" Exodar opened his eyes like he'd awoken from a dream.

"I heard you, Lisandra."

"Then will that be all?" Colonel Lisandra Birukov, Ramsey's personal assistant for lack of a better term, crossed her arms impatiently while she adjusted herself. The woman wasn't fond of the Paladin's garb. Most Paladin's weren't, but it was part of the job. Uniform was uniform, no matter your rank. "Will. That. Be. All?"

"Yes, yes! Bloody hell, woman, I don't need a scolding. I've enough on my mind."

"As per usual, sir." Lisandra turned away and began to make her way out of the chamber, when something forced her to turn back. Exodar was still hunched over with his back to her. "Sir, is there any particular reason you've wanted updates on Caravan activity, recently? Miss Eridal is overqualified in her management of the situation." Exodar sighed, and slowly rose to his feet.

"Lisandra, I'm a careful man. Thoris has become a right dreadful beast as of these past two decades." He turned towards her with a tired look in his eyes as he began making his way out of the room as well. He passed Lisandra as he spoke, and she began to follow him side-by-side. "Paladins have been dropping like flies, men and women die daily out in the wilds to threats that hadn't been so much of an issue for over 1000 years, and the king has been ever so persistent in reminding me of my failures. We've not recruited any new Paladins for two years, and those dreadful churches in Marrenfall continue to anger Maeti with their misdeeds." Lisandra kept one eye locked on Exodar's face through the slit in her helmet. The man's grey hair and gruff features only served to accentuate his stress. "On top of all of that, I'm supposed to be in charge of the entirety of Arcadia's military. My job doesn't demand much during times of peace, but I pay a tax - that in the form of my love for this Nation's people and her prosperity - a tax that weighs heavily on my conscience day in, and day out." He stopped suddenly at the chamber's exit and looked Lisandra dead in the eyes. "Is it then, so confusing, that I'd like to know when our people are being sent against the forces of nature?" He glared at her impatiently. There was a manner of doubt in Lisandra's heart to Exodar's true intentions. It didn't add up in her head.

"No sir," She gasped quietly. There was no reason to press the matter any further. Exodar was an overly kind man, and there was much that she didn't understand. Recently with all of the happenings in Arcadia, part of her could understand his unusual demeanor. It still bothered her to no end. Exodar sighed and walked off, leaving his assistant to think over his words. "Not at all..."

"We'll play some Bluff. Personal favorite of mine." Daelin dealt all the cards out evenly to everyone at the table. He took a single card from his hand and placed it face down in the middle. "One ace." He grinned. He placed the rest of his cards face down on the table as he waited for the next person to play.

Daelin looked to the others who weren't participating. He casually leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. "So Pyra, Lyullia. What kind of families have you two got? Mine's not very big but we're close knit." Daelin asked.