Seraphin

Defiance

Major Interaction: @Hokum
Minor Interaction: @Polaris North

The sight of Devlin writhing through the air as the golem launched her sideways jarred Ren's breathing into a gasp of air. Even if the undead barricaded his approach towards Devlin, a sudden surge of fear and rage coursed within him. He smashed his shoulder against the wall of skeletons, breaking their defense with a loud crash when Ren charged through them in a frantic attempt to get to Devlin's side. He only met her for a night and a half, but Ren could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of protection over her-- as if she was precious to him. Ren valued life, that was for certain, but deep within the darkest recesses of his mind, Ren knew that he valued her life better than others. The reason for that, Ren still grasped at straws to find the answer, but one thing was for sure: he needed to save her, and not the rise of the damned would stop him.

He silently thanked the archer for continuing to watch their back, allowing him to thin out the onslaught of skeletons going after them. When Ren finally reached Devlin's side, the musician paused in disbelief as he witnessed brutal forks of lightning lashing out at the conclave of undead gathering around her. As the last skeleton fell to the ground in an ashen heap, Ren found the courage to dash to the fallen rogue, deftly catching her in his arms whilst she grasped at him. How he wished he could whisper words of comfort to her; how he wanted to speak, to tell her that everything was going to be okay now that he was at her side. But, the only thing Ren could muster were strangled groans and voiceless breaths as he clutched her closer to him.

But, Ren digressed, words paled in comparison to actions-- especially, since, out of all the possible myriad of appropriate actions, her lips pressed against his without much strength, but still hard enough to jolt the living hells out of the man. Ren's eye twitched for the most miniscule of moments before fixing himself. This was good enough for his ability to take effect, and without much thought into it, Ren angled lips against hers as his body began to transfer thousands upon thousands of cells through the fingers caressing her face and through the bruised lips brushing with hers.
Meanwhile, his other hand crept over to the arrow piercing her shoulder, and without warning, he yanked it out of her before crushing his lips harder with hers to drown out any shouts.

'Close enough,'

Confident that the emergency amount of cells he had transferred unto her body would at least anchor her from the most grievous of her wounds, Ren looked back up as he realized that they were still in the heat of battle. With the undead cleaving at the now withering golem, the musician took the chance to hold her hand in his. He did not know how 'in control' she was of her senses, but at this moment, Ren faced a dilemma: She was definitely injured in more ways than one. She could not even stand properly. If he wanted to restore her at least so that she can walk, he would be the one suffering as healing the rather large injuries she had, especially the one bleeding out beneath her attire, would leave Ren on the brink of incapacitation. Something he did not want, by the way. On the other hand, if he became stingy with his cells, her recovery would not be enough to get her out of there. She would be doomed to the undead cleaving her in pieces until nothing remained.

There was only one option, and Ren felt bile rising to his throat as he glanced at the new wave of skeletons prowling towards them from a distance. Taking the saber in his hand, Ren edged the blade over the skin of his arm. The lad breathed deeply, feeling a surge of memories welling up in his mind-- of some horrid... people... consuming...

NO!

She was not like them. She was Devlin, the woman who saved him when no one else would. She was Devlin, the woman who made Ren believe that kindness did not always come from sweet smiles and gentle gazes; it could also come from calloused and rough hands who did what needed to be done to save a life she barely knew.

Ren waved to the archer, signaling for him to start running away from the heat of battle. Then, he gritted his teeth before pressing the blade deep with one fell slice, causing the flap of Ren's skin to dangle as crimson liquid spurted from the bloodied visage of what appeared to be connective tissues and some layers of fat. Ren peeled off the loose skin before rolling it into a small object.

'Trust me.' He signed with a weary yet worried look on his face.

He looked at Devlin, signing for her to close her eyes before edging his peeled skin towards her lips. With the cut of the skin so deep that it exposed some blood vessels and fats, Ren was confident that this was more than enough to give her a large burst of regeneration.

Rumors about Ren's skin circulated around the mines and even in some parts of the Akropolian desert about how it was a miracle cure-all. The lad preferred for it to be considered as such (the more non-existent, the better), because he had an inkling what would happen if people knew of the truth. The concentrated amount of strong, mutated cells latching on his skin meant that these cells would immediately cater to the consumer's bodily needs. It was a potent yet portable version of Ren with the added benefit that it allowed the boy to regenerate the lost piece of skin on his own without necessarily draining all the cells in his body at once. The process was quicker than how Ren would heal his allies and definitely safer, but there was a disgusting side effect: aside from the vile idea of cannibalism, there was also the issue of addiction as all experienced when consuming too much of any substance. Hence, the rumor has it that consuming Ren's skin was similar to a miracle draught of healing. It was effective yet addictive when not controlled.

It was her choice-- always her choice, and while he believed that she would not get... attached too much, Ren knew that people had standards. But, this was the path he was offering, and how much he prayed that she would understand how hard it was for him to offer this as much as it would be hard for her to eat it.

He did not know whether it would be all worth it in the end, but just one look at her battered face and wounded torso, and Ren knew that, perhaps, for her, it would always be worth it. Maybe, she was worth it.

Defiance

A dance of chaos was all that Ren could see. As a golem from the hearth of the woods joined in on their cause, Ren discovered a bubbling emotion welling up from within his spine. A hot scalding touch which strangely enough sent cold tingles shooting through each nerve and fiber in his body. It was a feeling which became increasingly familiar as the musician tasted iron on his tongue: one was of fear, and the other was of fury. The sight of the increasingly battered golem on their side as well as Devlin's sorrowful visage pushed Ren over the edge of passivity. Ren breathed out a silent prayer once more as his body pushed itself past the limit of sanity. Cells flooded through every crevice of his system, righteous anger guiding his blows as he picked up a steel bar from one of the shattered remnants of what was once a house. Every principle, every moral in his mind screamed at him to stop-- that these monsters were once humans who Ren could have met in his travels. Every piece of rotten flesh, every fragment of decayed bone used to be a part of a unique human life.

His gaze hardened on the archer beside him as he asked Ren a question about these fiends. It was common knowledge in Ren's travels that no true power could bring back the dead. They were just puppets, being pulled on by strings as the puppetmaster watches from the sides.

He lifted his hands at the archer, inverting his index and middle finger before making a scissoring motion over it with his other hand. They were nothing but dolls sent to slaughter them. However, at this moment, they needed to work together to bring back Devlin and that damned golem.

He began to sign to the archer as he motioned for him to continue covering Devlin and the golem before Ren looked at the incoming wave of undead rushing at the three of them.

Ren's hold on the steel tightened. These were just empty, desecrated husks of the once beautiful soul that rested within. They were empty, hollow. And, they were making his comrades bleed.

His mouth tore open in a silent shout before he swung his weapon with a clumsy might, echoing a sickening crack as the steel collided with the cadaver's skull. The dead flew a few good meters with half of its head torn apart from the intensity of the blow. Meanwhile, adrenaline pumped within Ren, his eyes taking in the sight of the coagulated blood dripping from the steel bar. A rush of anxiety pierced at him, threating Ren to drop his weapon and run for dear life. He was afraid; truly, he was scared of the pain when he saw his fraternal monks getting torn to pieces by the wrath of the undying. He just wanted to... rest; he craved nothing more than to just sleep this nightmare away.

But, one fading glance at the selfless golem who stood in front of a barrage of arrows as well as his injured friend facing down Hell's legion, Ren knew that sleep was only for the dead. And, he had no intention of kidding himself, there was still a lot of life left in him.

With his resolve set in stone, Ren engaged any and all ghouls who stood in their way towards the safety point. Though every swing was foolish, every thrust was careless, the lad believed that as long as the hands that held it were true, it would always bring them towards whatever god forsaken goal there was. As series of ghouls clawed at him, Ren shoved against them even as a rusted sword from an undead soldier dashed through his stomach. Blood spurted from his mouth, causing Ren's knees to buckle before he raised the steel ever higher. With a defiant voiceless roar, the musician brought down his weapon with the strength of a crescendo. The steel bar rived the soldier's head into pieces as it twitched one last time before expiring. Ren grasped at the sabre embedded into his body, pulling it out forcibly as he now armed himself with it as more of the undead wave advanced on them. Ren gripped the hilt before diving into the breach once more until the path leading to the western gate was momentarily cleared.

Ren trudged onward as he approached the cleared path of the dead that Devlin slaughtered, the claw marks and piercings inflicted upon him quickly stitching back into healthy flesh as his body regenerated him at a cellular level. He looked at Devlin once more, the mere sight of her steeling his resolve once more as he gnashed his teeth through the pain. The best they could do was try to hold on tight as they made their retreat, but the golem who refused to budge might spell a disaster for them. With Devlin being too attached to this creature, it might prove troublesome to pry her off of it. But, Ren decided, that if this golem remained in its frozen state, he would rush to at least get Devlin to safety. Her electricity shield be damned, he'd risk a singe or two just to make sure she was safe.

With the warrior and the archer a few meters ahead of them, Ren continued to gaze at Devlin and the golem, ready to charge should Devlin need his aid, or ready to flee once that blasted golem got the proper sense to know when to choose a battle.

Defiance

Major Interactions: @Hokum@Polaris North

The sight of the undead boar barreling towards them froze Ren in his tracks as he ushered the children to safety. The relentless hail of arrows falling all around them only added to the spilling anxiety while the children screamed in their dire efforts to flee to the western gates. Some of the surviving monks accompanied the children as they charged beneath the barrage, causing a few of his brethren to fall in a noble attempt to save the children. Frantic steps crushed against the grass as they made their way out of the church grounds. For a brief moment, Ren spotted the last leaf laying on the ground, crushed and destroyed under the heels of panic. As a sudden good soul faced the boar, Ren took one last look behind him to check for Devlin and any other stragglers.

Kiya, one of the orphans, released a shout as her feet failed her as the young girl tumbled to the ground with a thud. The cohort of skeletal marksmen accompanying the boar locked their sights on the child as their boney recurves lifted into the air before they nocked fatal arrows of blight and shadow which soon shot into the air with deadly accuracy. The arrows rained all around Kiya as Ren rushed towards her. He scooped her into his arms before turning her away from the wave of arrows. Sharp, hellish pains wracked through Ren as two arrows pierced his body, but the lad shook it off in favor of trudging to his feet and carrying the girl to safety behind a row of houses. Soon, the pain became too much to bear as Ren sank to his knees and helped Kiya to her feet. Brother Adenard, one of the surviving monks, sprinted to Ren's side as he left Kiya to his care. The two sped towards the western gate, leaving Ren alone with his wounds as he took cover behind one of the sundered walls, awaiting Devlin's arrival to his side.

With the arrows embedded into his system, probably cutting a vein or two, Ren breathed hard as a silent prayer escaped his lips. It was like moving a muscle, something already memorized from years of experience. A part in his brain twitched before a legion of cells flooded into his body. Trembling hands reached upon the arrows, excruciatingly pulling them out of his flesh. Ren threw his head back, blood pouring from the wounds as he forcibly extracted the wooden projectiles from his body before throwing them to the ground. His hands fell to the floor in exhaustion, his head drooping as the nasty incisions on his chest and side began to sew together as if an invisible suture threaded them shut. A healthy shade of pink returned to Ren's face as his muscles bulged from the excess cells developing his body to inhuman levels.

He rose to his feet, knees wobbling in the process. His eyes soon caught the sight of a golem and two men battling with the boar. They were sure to lose with a growing number of undead looming over the horizon. The church stood like a solemn lighthouse of hope among the tidal waves of destruction circling around it like wolves with prey. For decades, the church had remained standing even through the earthquakes and the calamities which struck Nadska. It was a sanctuary for the lost, but as the undead began to scale its stone parapets, Ren saw visions of a Nadska overrun with no chance of fighting back.

They had to save as much fighting force as possible. There was no point in wasting a precious life to a never-ending spawn of hell. Noticing Devlin, he raised his hands to her. How he wanted to express his gratitude to her, and for a moment, he felt the urge to wrap his arms around her, but these feelings could wait. What was more important was to save the lives that could still be wrenched from the jaws of magics beyond men.

'We need to escape with them. No point to fight without chance of win.' He gestured to the three entities clashing with the army sieging the church. 'Worry not about me. I cannot be killed easy. Worry for them. We help them escape.'

Ren dashed towards one of the men loosing arrows upon the skeletons. The mute lad flailed his arms to catch his attention, hoping to Heren that this guy could understand him. He began to sign, communicating with them to start retreating as all the kids had already fled from the church. No glory could be wrought from salvaging a hollow temple whose only denizens were stone-cold gods and flickering candles. They could not win today, but there was still hope tomorrow.

All they could do was to gather their strength together and rage against the dying of the light.

Defiance

@Hokum

Et onske om Herren
Av kjer od nyd satn
Vi boyar in ikke
Pa grun syner oike

Ren nodded with a toothy grin before taking the slice of bread and biting down on the soft pastry. He peered down at Devlin, wondering what kind of bubbling emotion he felt stabbing at his core whenever he laid eyes on her. Not to mention, that damned smile curving her lips at the most unexpected of times which caused a constricting feeling down his chest. Ren could not help but laugh silently at her expense when she bungled in attempting to buy bread from a fruit stand. There was something refreshing from the break she provided from all the absurd routines of Nadska. At this time, Ren would have been sitting down on one of the rugs back at the temple, chanting the reshud with the monks. He almost forgot that he, as a person, was allowed to just be happy and uncaring of the world around him, even for just a brief respite. With the cool air blowing around them and the sun's first rays climbing on the horizon, Ren had never felt lighter than he did now. Memories of Alayan disappearing behind two sliding doors in the arms of a horrid client or reminders of how his guardian swung from the gallows amidst a brutal downpour all vanished as he reached up to sweep a lone strand of hair out of Devlin's face.

It was strange, really, how one woman's helping hand make someone like him believe that there was still good in the world.

Then, for a split-second, the visage of Devlin was replaced by that of Alayan's which caused Ren's breathing to hitch for the briefest of eternities. His throat ran dry as the bread scraped against the roof of his mouth. How long has it been since he made that promise to her, and for that same vow to be broken like glass against stone? As the ghost of a girl long gone slowly faded away, the lad's fingers danced over Devlin's cheek in a futile attempt to revive the warmth he already lost. Tears trickled from his eyes before sliding down in warm rivulets which the musician was able to quickly wipe away as soon as he was able to rein in his thoughts.

Ah, yeah, poor Queno got his sides cut. Yeah, probably at the same time when Tavas got killed as well.

Ren's eyes turned to the two merchants nonchalantly conversing about Queno's demise. While the man was undoubtedly using Ren for his own benefits, the lad felt that he still owed something to the former barkeep. When Ren had arrived in Nadska, it was Queno who opened his doors to the drifter with nowhere to rest his head. It only took a few hours before Queno realized Ren's profession, and soon after,they had already struck a deal. If it wasn't for Queno, he would have been forced to find another village where the undead could have struck. It was a weird sense of gratitude, but for someone whose only memory of kindness was when he was a child rolling upon the snow of Aryali, it was like a drop of water in an unforgiving Akropolian desert.

A slight numbing sensation crept around Ren's heart, his lips trembling in misplaced gratitude. Ren despised death; the thought of someone ending a unique human life was unbearable, because who knew what good things could have happened if that life was left to grow. But, oddly enough, at the darkest recesses of his heart, he felt a grin trying to claw its way up at a monster's end.

Perhaps, with the death of one, more would live.

He wondered about the identity of the slayer, and as his mind formulated possible identities, his eyes drew towards Devlin and the heroic act she performed that night. However, before he could put two and two together, a crash of shattered stone walls made Ren's neck snap in the direction of the noise like a prey sensing a predator. His eyes picked up fragments of rocks hurtling through the air just in time for a chorus of terrified screams to fill the air.

Et reid os afras sraf
Fra bran os dod voldaf

The reshud echoing from the church stopped, only to be replaced by the frantic knells of the large bronze bell housed inside the tower. From the distance of the town center overlooking the lower areas of Nadska, Ren's worst fears came into existence in the form of writhing ghouls and festering cadavers rampaging through the village. The force of the undead tore to bits a good number of guards and militias who nobly threw themselves in the path of the damned. However, what made Ren's blood run cold was the horrific sight of the temple in line for destruction as the scourge advanced towards the stone structure. Since the reshud had already been prayed, it meant that the orphaned children had already entered the temple for their morning meals, and to imagine the dismembered and mauled remains of the children he had come to love brought a snarl on Ren's lips.

His mouth parted in a voiceless scream. No, not again.

But, Ren knew he could not do it alone. A dying spark of hope forced Ren to turn to his friend, trembling and cold hands gripping at hers as he signed in jumbled, desperate gestures.

'The children! We need to help the children at the church!'

The danger of the situation fell on Ren's deaf ears as he bowed his head until it came to rest on Devlin's hands. Warm rivulets of tears stained her hand before Ren looked up on her, teeth grinding against each other in desperation. He wanted to say a thousand things, a thousand reasons why he needed to get a few worthless children out of there, but among the million things that stormed his mind, the only thing he was able to express was a clasp of his hands before putting his right fist over his heart, followed by an open-palmed gesture towards Devlin.

'Please.'

Defiance

@Hokum
A sigh of relief escaped from Ren's lips as his shoulders slackened and the grim look in his eyes vanished. While Ren was also a traveler himself, he never really made it a point to traverse the woodlands or the more secretive parts of Akripola. Since Devlin seemed to be confident in her knowledge, Ren resigned his worries to the winds. He nodded with her idea of just going down to the stalls, and while it was still an hour early for the merchants to start unpacking their goods, Ren decided that there was no harm in giving her a tour around the village. Sure, they would need to watch out for some of the guards, but ultimately, there was little to fear. However, Ren would need to come back to the temple after the reshud is finished in order for him to assist in feeding the children.

They could be quite antsy if their food was delayed.

Ren walked towards the door before going down the spiral staircase which led to the main assembly hall of the temple. In the assembly hall, crimson-colored rugs sit on both sides of a central isle paved with a white cloth. It ultimately led to a towering statue of the God of Life and the Harvest, Heren. With his arms outstretched, the god of the harvest was believed to have been merciful when it comes to the crops and to the safety of all who deserved it.

The lad walked to the center before falling down to his knees and bowing to the earth. After a while, Ren stood up before going over to Devlin once more. With scarred hands tucked inside the sleeves of his habit, the lad took one last look at Heren before nodding to Devlin to follow him. The outside of the temple housed a rickety stone fencing with some of its parts falling to rubbles. A lone tree stands in the middle of the church courtyard with a few stone blocks keeping the loam soil within the tree's boundaries. The tree itself looked desolate with all its leaves except for one dangling at the top all but withered with no hope of flowering once more. The legend of the tree goes that when the last leaf falls to the ground, a great evil would fall upon Nadska.

Ren laid a gentle hand on the tree before backing off and sauntering towards the general direction of the stalls. He purposely took the long way towards the conclave of vendors who were just starting to prepare their goods for the day. Amidst the chilly breeze of dawn, the lad introduced her to the Town Hall while informing her of the recent case of a bank burglar due to dangle from the gallows for stealing a chest of gold pieces from the town treasury. However, the chest remains unfound to this day. Ren shook his head at the denial of the accused thief since there should be no case without evidence.

As they arrived at the town square, the lad took off the hood as he relished in the soothing winds sweeping around them. Scarred hands ruffled at his hair before combing it back with his fingers for him to get a better view of the merchants of whom he knew some well. A few guards came about from time to time in their daily patrols, and Ren tried for normal though unnecessary. However, as the last minutes ticked by, he grinned at Devlin before motioning towards the stalls. There were still some merchants bickering and even threatening each other over the spots of their goods. Still, his thunderous companion would have to make due with the limited (albeit highly competed upon) selection since tomorrow would still be the primary marketing day. A few merchants still vying to earn more opted to open business in order to garner as minimal competition as possible, though at the expense of fewer buyers.

'Well, most of the merchants are ready, but the townsfolk will be coming soon.' Ren signed to her with a boyish smirk alongside bouts of suppressed chuckles. 'Believe me, the underworld has no fury like a townsfolk hunting for bargains, or a merchant fighting for a spot.'

Defiance

@Hokum
A tinge of dread shot through Ren upon catching sight of the bumbling thief who managed to bump into another person before vanishing into the shadows of the village outskirts. Anything that went out of Nadska's routine almost always spelled disaster for more than just one reason. There was something sacred with the daily rote of everyone's task in the village: the bakers heated their ovens at five in the morning; the guards changed their shifts at six; and the monks chanted their Reshud at seven. This synchrony of activities meant that everything was going fine, that nothing was wrong. Thus, once something is out of place, like random theft at dawn, meant that everything else in the town was going to follow (like the murder committed in the tavern, for one). With the guards too busy investigating the tavern, no one was there to catch the thief, and it was only a matter of time before this things escalated.

However, all of these doubts somewhat melted when the woman beside him held his arm and met his gaze with hers. At that moment, Ren wondered how can pale lavenders be so comforting when there were so many questions dangling in the air with regard to the future of his village. When the jolt of purple electricity ran through the nerves of his skin, Ren's eyes widened as his mouth opened in a look of pleasant of surprise. The tiny violent fork mesmerized the musician who began to laugh in a voiceless fascination before looking at the woman again.

She had already begun talking about the town hall, and Ren only nodded in agreement. The town hall stored a lot of information with regard to the village's status. If anything, they might contain records of any sightings in the area. But, Ren gulped in doubt when he realized that Devlin had the social communication skill of a babe. Her choice of words were not exactly friendly or... normal, should he dare place it. She also had that righteous temper she needed to keep track of. Diplomacy was important in the field of politics, and, perhaps, he can help her out in that area should she decide on it. After all, he certainly did not want her reducing another person to an ashen heap with those purple electric surges of hers.

But, that can be topic for another day (or, a few hours later).

He placed a reassuring hand on top of hers which gripped his forearm. He then began to weave a series of signs which expressed the message of 'you can always expect my help; and this church will be your home as well'. A heavy silence already curtained the temple which served as the sign that the monks of Heren already slumbered on after an exhaustive night of prayers.

When Devlin expressed her intention to rest as well, Ren lit up as he began to lead her down the stairs where they could retire to his quarters for some well-earned rest. But, the dreary quiet made the surroundings of the village all the more clearer. The winds carried with them an ominous sound, almost like a cacophony of roars reverberating in the forest opposite of Nadska. Another breach of routine. Ren's neck snapped in the seeming direction of the noise like a prey sensing a predator. His gaze hardened as it swept over the blanket of darkness shrouding the woodlands, and his teeth bit at his bottom lip in worry.

He opted to turn his sights on Devlin before giving her a worried smile. He began to create his signs again.

'Did you hear that, too? I heard a roar.'

The musician turned his sights up to the night sky slowly being pierced with dawn's light. The red streaks of the sun forking out in wispy streams as it illuminated the shadows. He breathed in a fresh scent of air as if relishing the last few sights and scents of normalcy before everything goes into madness. He really wished that he was wrong, but with the trend of things, the world just wanted to keep proving him wrong.

'That is not what you are looking for, right?' Ren signed.

After a moment, Ren shook his head before offering a weak grin. He raised his hands again.

'My apologies-- burdening you with such thoughts when we should be resting, right?'

Defiance

@Hokum

A quick hand tugged at the rogue's cloak as an attempt to hold her in her tracks. Even now, the warmth from the unexpected kiss tingled at the suture marks lining his lips. He really never thought this action through, but now, staring at the woman once more who was no older than he was, Ren felt that he should express something. People, even the monks flinched at the sight of the memories which stitched his past together-- the twisting scars always made men avert their eyes in misplaced politeness. They never asked about the scars for anyone knew the horrors behind it. But, Devlin was different. This was the first time that someone looked at his wounds without disgust; this was the first time that someone laid their hands upon the tapestries of torment which shaped Ren into who he was now.

Then, there were those sudden yet small smiles which clenched his insides. He could still see the rabid restraints she yanked upon these split-second bits of joy. How he wished to just express that she should let go of her hesitations, but he knew that the scars which littered her life at the massacre at Despiun would continue to haunt her forever. In the eyes of most, she deserved no happiness as she would carry the bloodied remnants of an entire village with no real chance at redemption. But, Ren questioned, was she not allowed a moment of respite from the nightmares which might torment her forever?

Meanwhile, a peculiar sense of happiness washed over him in a very long time, and a burst of hope swelled inside Ren as he believed that after years of helping people, maybe he also needed a little bit of help himself. The sudden awkwardness of the situation dawned on him, and Ren let go of her cloak as if something scorched his fingers. Under the lone drops of moonlight floating down from the stained-glass windows above them, after a long time, Ren found it difficult to look someone in the eye. Ren prided himself for his honesty and lack of deception when it came to interacting with others. If someone asked him for the truth, he found no problem in telling them how it is. But, at this moment, he wondered what kind of prickling secret his heart hid within him which made this woman before him so hard to deal with.

He held up his hands, motioning for her to wait a while as he went over to his cabinet. He opened a drawer, pulling out a small brown pouch which jingled with a mixture of silver and gold pieces. He held her hand before placing the pouch on it, and then, enclosing her fingers over the small wealth he had. Before she could do anything else, Ren backed off before raising his hands again. He pointed at her, and then, grinded his fists together before holding up a lone index finger.

'You choose to work alone,'

He opened his palm to her and then wagged his finger before making a slicing motion down his hand while a lifting motion followed. A gentle smile accompanied his actions as he tried to express that while she chose to shoulder the world's shadows on her own, there was nothing wrong with getting a little help from time to time. This was his village, too, after all. If what Devlin said was true that her 'nemesis' (whatever in Heren's name that meant) skulked around here, then, perhaps Ren could also defend the village. The lad had no idea where this newfound courage stemmed from, but this different perspective of being willing to fight for something and... not just escaping from the storm... felt refreshing.

Perhaps, he had run away too many times now. The Warmth House. The Merchant Union. Ren's gaze fell on Devlin once more, and he sent a silent prayer to Heren in gratitude for the bravery this woman instilled in him. With the plethora of emotions welling inside him, Ren picked out one that stood out the most: impending gloom. At the thought of her imminent departure, the lad felt something akin to sadness. A certain sting of worry also stabbed at him when he thought about her getting caught (not that she would be caught easily, if Tavas had anything to say about it). So, he did what he knew was best

He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, rapidly writing on it before giving it to Devlin.

'It's late. Guards are alert due to incident. If you want, stay the night here. You saved my life. This the least I do for you.'

However, he became flustered at the idea that probably he was forcing too much on her. What if she did not like sleeping? What if she was not even tired in the first place? As such, he quickly wrote another note to amend what he thought was an error in his logic.

'But, if you no intent to rest, then, we can stay at Bell Tower. The stars be beautiful there. It also gives good view of village if it helps your mission.'

Defiance

@Hokum
Devlin...

Her name echoed inside his head before his mind began to digest the fact that this girl was a living legend. As a musician, he knew of the dirge dedicated to the massacre at Despiun. Its forlorn lyrics and heavy tune could never express the tragedy which fell on that civilization in the past. For some, the song was used as a warning to anyone who spoke of dark arcana and magical gambits. It was the song parents used to scare their children into a troubled sleep when they spoke too much about magic and fiction. To think that this was the girl behind the legends was quite difficult to process. But, if the songs of minstrels were true, then, this girl carried a burden that toppled most men.

Ren slowly got to his feet as he turned to face Devlin with a faint grin. His hands rose before moving to his chest and, then, gesturing to her as if to say 'it's great to meet you'. The musician prodded over to the cabinet before pulling out a ragged monk habit. The brown, somewhat moldy robe helped Ren to blend in with his companions. Though not really a member of their order, the monks were generous enough to lend him their attires to help him stave off the cold tendrils of night. Ren lifted the habit over his head before letting it cascade down his body, hiding the horrid scars which forked all over the plains of his skin. After he fastened the white cotton cord around his waist and donned on the hood over his head, he also handed another habit to the woman.

In order to explain his actions, Ren grabbed one of the parchments on top of the altar as he scribbled his thoughts on it. He then showed it to Devlin with a straight face.

'With the incident back at the tavern, they will look for you. Wear this to help disguise.'

Ren went over to the altar as he sat with his legs crossed in front of it. His purple eyes observed the dancing flames upon the candle's wick as he found himself lost in thought. Devlin was by no means a good omen. A person stained in so much death was bound to afflict the current locale of her residence with her malefic energy. She was a daughter of death, so to speak. Her arrival in Nadska only confirmed Ren's fears that the undead and monster attacks around the villages surrounding Nadska already started enclosing upon them. He shuddered at the thought of broken walls and splintered gates should the claws of the dead rake through their lands. The most logical decision for anyone would be to drive her out of Nadska's walls; she should be left in the forests where no one will ever suffer the omen of death that she carried everywhere.

'Almighty Heren of a thousand stars anew
Bestow on us your mercy and compassion true,'

But, when he dared to meet her stoic gaze once more, Ren found all fears and all doubts melted from his psyche. How could he drive out someone who trusted him enough to share this kind of information? How could he force out a person who only wanted to help in her own little ways? Sure, her methods bordered on shocking, but if the heart behind it was pure, then, was there really an issue? She did not have to help him; she had no reason to help him, but she did. She had no reason to care for a village grown mundane with the absurd routines from morn 'til night.

But, she did.

'Of every sinner and every sin
Comes a heart full of regret and love
With a righteous act, penance does begin
A call to men from you up above,'

The monks' chants echoed softly around the church, and the voices of his companions caused to Ren let out a silent chuckle at what the monks might say if they knew he brought in a murderer. However, Ren argued that they could not really complain since they did also adopt a harlot who drank from the cups of different people. He almost grinned at the thought: both of them sinners yet here they were inside what was supposed to be the holiest of sanctums.

His thoughts went back to what Devlin said back at the tavern-- what she was looking for might kill her. Judging from the faint rays of light seeping through the stained glass window inside his quarters, they still had a lot of hours to burn. It was best that he ask her now to make sure that her schemes would not shatter the lives of others. Not to mention that the power she demonstrated fell under the term of 'horrific'. Her battle-hardened stance and rough hands served as proofs that she was bred for battle and bringing death. They differed greatly on that note, though. Ren disliked the idea of hurting, let alone killing someone while she had no problems in taking a life.

Queno would have liked her attitude. Probably, tomorrow, he'd speak to Queno about her.

For now, Ren faced Devlin once more as he began with a bow of his head. Then, he mouthed the words 'thank you' to her with regard to her timely intervention back at the tavern. Then, he shook his hands from side to side before doing the lifting motion again and then gesturing to himself. Finally, he raised his thumb and swung it backwards.

'No one has ever helped me before during those times,'

His hands shook again from side to side before placing a closed fist over his heart.

'No one really cared enough,'

He could not help it, though. As the memories replayed in his head, Ren gave Devlin a bright smile which curved his lips. Years of fending off for himself, and now, he discovered that someone deemed him worthy enough to be cared for.

'But, I'm glad you did,' He added silently in his head.

However, there were more pressing things to be discussed. Ren proved terrible in being subtle; he wanted the truth straight from the horse's mouth, no matter how painful it was. He scribbled down something on a parchment before handing it to Devlin once more. Ren held a breath, knowing that he was breaking his promise not to pry. The mysteries surrounding her sparked a certain unease within the musician. How did her story tie into all of the madness biding their time within the shadows surrounding Nadska? What did the Daughter of Death seek within the margins of this lonely village?

'I asked you what you were looking for back at tavern. I want to know the truth. Just the two of us.'

Defiance

Oh, I think I overlooked that. Thanks for the heads up XD Uhm, I'm just going to add in a bit about his trousers still on.

Defiance

@Hokum

I definitely loved your post :D Sorry for the delay as I got caught up :3

Do tell me if you don't like the way I sequenced it :) I'll make changes if need be.