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<blockquote data-quote="Nonlethal Force" data-source="post: 2928877" data-attributes="member: 35788"><p>As the ring of unclean and plague rang out across the gated entrance to the city of Fingerdale, even the two tower guards that had started down the stairs upon seeing Charis fall to the ground had stopped and reeled back. There was simply no messing with anyone that had a plague. Sure, they probably had come to the town to find healing from one of the temple priests or priestesses. But there was no need to involve a non-priestly healthy body with a plagued victim until they had been cleansed by the proper healing power. To make matters worse, most of the people who were watching Charis were at least vaguely aware that this was now the second time that she had collapsed in a matter of minutes. It would seem that her condition was grave.</p><p></p><p>This didn’t particularly stop people from entering or exiting Fingerdale, however. Instead, it was as if a magical traffic circle had been formed in the center of the gate directly under the tower. People entering the town veered to their right and crowded together so as to give the fallen woman as wide of a berth as possible. People exiting also veered to their right as they passed under the gateway. Neither Ischarus nor Semeion felt in any particular danger once the crowd had been made aware that messing with them would not be very wise. Of course, the people had no way of knowing that the cry from Ischarus had simply been an improvisation. The crowd didn’t need to know that little bit of information, after all.</p><p></p><p>Rhema looked up from Charis and said quietly, <span style="color: PaleGreen">“She’s not moving. She doesn’t seem to be in any particular danger because she is still breathing and all. But she is completely unconscious and just laying upon the ground.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus looked to Semeion and said, <span style="color: LightBlue">“I’ll carry her to the nearest temple where they will at least be able to revive her. I don’t know if a simple healing can cure her of whatever is wrong. If she did heal herself and still fell victim to the sickness again so quickly, perhaps healing magic is not the answer.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion smiled grimly as Ischarus spoke of carrying her to the temple. <span style="color: Plum">“Well, whether or not she can be cured, I think it is possible to make your trip a bit more convincing.</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema noticed his smile and smiled back. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“Semeion, I don’t know what exactly you are thinking, but that smile at least makes me want to find out. Are you thinking of adding onto the belief that Charis is a victim of some kind of plague?”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded and replied, <span style="color: Plum">“Precisely. That is exactly what I had in mind.”</span> He lifted his hand up from the ground as he crouched nearby her body and slowly extended it toward Charis. <span style="color: Plum">“Par Ah-sahn.”</span> </p><p></p><p>As his magically charged finger touched her skin, the slight blue aura discharged across her body. It was visible to anyone that had been paying close attention but among the chaos and fear of the plague it was unlikely that anyone really saw what Semeion had done. However, immediately Charis’ skin broke out into small boils about the size of small chicken pox scars. Ischarus and Rhema also pulled back away from Charis out of instinct. </p><p></p><p>As he pulled back, Ischarus proclaimed his displeasure. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Ugh! Did you do the smell, too?”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion only responded with a near diabolical smile. The smell reminded Ischarus of rotting flesh mixed with stale blood. Of course, Ischarus knew that the smell was perfect for a leper or a plague victim. In spite of this knowledge his face did not seem highly interested in having to carry that smell halfway across town to the temple. Given his familiarity with Fingerdale and the religious nature of the common person anyway, Ischarus knew that the temples would be located near the center of town in the places of honor and in the locations for the greatest protection should invading armies ever come against the city.</p><p></p><p>Rhema also commented on the effects of the spell as she pulled back. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“Did you seriously have to make it quite so pungent, Semeion?”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion replied. <span style="color: Plum">“If you are going to make an illusion that is designed to fool the people you’d best make it believable by all. Master Sathwright taught me that as one of my first arcane lessons.”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus rolled Charis’ body over so that she was lying on her back and scooped her up in both arms. <span style="color: LightBlue">“If your master could see you now, he’d be proud of this one.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion’s smile vanished into sorrow. <span style="color: Plum">“If…”</span> His voice trailed into nothingness as his mind raced back to the encounter with the green dragon in which his clumsiness had gotten his master killed.</p><p></p><p>Rhema noticed Semeion’s sudden sadness. As Ischarus rose to his feet with Charis she looked to Semeion and directed his action. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“Now stay in the back and make sure that we are not followed. We’ve no idea what is causing this effect in Charis and the last thing we need is a tail. I’ll go to the front and make sure Ischarus has a clear path to the temple.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded. His mind was still miles away from this city. He had mentally retreated back to the hilltop above the forest. He had not been there for months, and it had been a while since he had even given it a passing thought.</p><p></p><p>Rhema charged ahead of Ischarus and yelled to the crowd. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“We’re carrying a plague victim, people! Move it or plan on visiting a priest. It’s a simple choice!”</span> It was really much more than was necessary to get people to get out of the way, but it effectively moved the people more quickly. Even a few of the cart and carriage drivers worked hard to jerk their horses away from Ischarus’ path as their horses trotted down the central street into the temple district.</p><p></p><p>Soon Rhema found the temple she was looking for. It was also the temple that Ischarus had first introduced her to. The edifice was huge and completely made of marble on the outside. The entire temple was over one hundred feet wide and well over two hundred and fifty feet long. Columns ran the entire front of the building, each column over five feet in diameter. There were two varieties of columns. The far right and far left columns as well as the central column were carved in order to depict the same figure. The columns were in the shape of a man in full armor holding a long lance and a shield that rose from the ground to his chin. The shield was a perfect rectangle, although it had obviously been rounded to fit the curvature of the column. This image was not engraved into the column; the column had been sculpted to so that the entire column was the image of the warrior. The remaining columns along the front were tributes to what had to be the most powerful creature native to Enigmatica: the dragon. As Ischarus viewed the temple, he noted that each of the dragons he revered for their purity of heart and benevolence were all represented in the columns.</p><p></p><p>Above the columns, the temple roof rose on a relatively flat pitch. Just below the crest of the roof was a simple seal. The seal depicted the sun watching over all the actions of all the figures represented among the columns. Of course, the sun also watched over all who approached the temple by ascending either of the two central staircases. Each staircase ran between the central column of the man and the column of the dragon immediately beside it.</p><p></p><p>Rhema charged for the temple, screaming louder as she approached. One woman was exiting the temple as she heard Rhema’s cries. Not wanting to immediately soil her purity having just come from the temple herself, the woman hurriedly descended the stairs – leaping over the last five marble steps to ensure she would be well clear before Rhema got to the steps. Rhema charged up the steps and approached the central door. Once she had reached the door she paused and waited for Ischarus and Semeion. She had enjoyed the rouse of getting people to move out of the way; but she knew that there was no great need to alarm the temple staff themselves. Charis’ apparent condition was simply a rouse. The real cause of her illness was not the plague. It was more likely something much more difficult to diagnose.</p><p></p><p>Ischarus climbed the steps one at a time. He made it appear as though he was being delicate on the steps in order to avoid tripping. He was unable to see each step do to Charis lying in his arms before him. However, in reality his eyes focused on the dragon column to the left of the central stone column shaped as the warrior. Although the column was to the left to someone viewing the series of columns, it was in truth to the right hand side of the figure depicted in the central column. Ischarus paused as he approached the columns and the top of the steps. He thought about setting Charis down on the steps, but considering that the people on the street thought that she had the plague he quickly considered this a poor idea. Instead he merely bowed slightly to the central human column and bowed a little more deeply to the dragon column that had caught his attention. It certainly was not a direct image of his father dragon, but it clearly was the right type of dragon. The central neck frill and regal stance told Ischarus that it was the same type of beautiful dragon being depicted. Once he had bowed to the columns Ischarus finished ascending the stairs to meet up with Rhema.</p><p></p><p>Semeion ascended the stairs slowly, continually turning to view the crowd that had easily parted for them to pass. He still couldn’t see anyone directly following their trail. As he passed between the columns without giving them a single notice he realized that their trail would not be difficult to follow in the least. Should someone desire to follow them all they need do is let them get out of sight and ask which temple the plague victim entered. It would not be a difficult trail to follow. Even still, he found nobody who demonstrated much less than a passing curiosity or fear of catching the plague.</p><p></p><p>At the top of the stairs, Rhema looked to Ischarus and Semeion. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“We’ve no clue what we are going to ask of the priests, you know.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion glanced to the doors and began to think out loud. <span style="color: Plum">“Well, we could simply ask for healing.”</span></p><p></p><p><span style="color: LightBlue">“We could, but that might be pointless and a waste of time and resources. I say we enter as is and see what they diagnose on their own.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded in agreement and Rhema opened the large door to let Ischarus pass. They were immediately greeted at the door by an acolyte who timidly kept his distance. <span style="color: Lime">“Forgive me, sirs and madam. My actions seem a bit unwelcoming, but I would prefer to…”</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema shrugged and interrupted the acolyte. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“Yes, yes. You don’t want what she’s got. Very well, then. Tell us where a healing room is and fetch us a fine priest.”</span></p><p></p><p>The acolyte pointed down the hallway. <span style="color: Lime">“Third door on your right should be open. I’ll send a healing priest right in.”</span></p><p></p><p>Inside the room, Rhema fumbled nervously with her thumbs as she waited for the priest. After a few moments Ischarus had enough and grabbed each of her thumbs with his own hands. <span style="color: LightBlue">“Something is on your mind, Rhema. Tell us. Let us all worry together rather than keeping it to yourself.”</span></p><p></p><p>Rhema looked to the floor and then spoke. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“Well, what if we were too late in rescuing her from her dragon father? What if she isn’t sick, but rather …”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion rose as if to defend Charis’ honor as she lay unconscious across the table in the center of the room. <span style="color: Plum">“No!”</span> he screamed at Rhema, clearly indicating that she had not only caught him off guard but that she had touched a nerve. <span style="color: Plum">“That is not an option. Not for Charis. She’s been through enough already and has come so far!”</span></p><p></p><p>Ischarus placed a hand upon Semeion’s shoulder. Semeion brushed it off violently and quickly out of his internal eruption of outrage. The gesture was nothing personal against Ischarus; it was an act of rebellion against Rhema’s possibility.</p><p></p><p>Rhema smiled again. <span style="color: PaleGreen">“She may not have had a choice. Think about it, Semeion. How could she have just learned a new magic trick? And her sickness every time she tried to use it – it would make sense if her body was gaining new powers because she was…”</span></p><p></p><p>Much to Semeion’s relief the door opened and the noise drowned out the final word of Rhema’s thought. Semeion didn’t want to hear it anyway.</p><p></p><p>The three sat in silence as the priest entered the room and immediately began a silent inspection of the girl on the table before him. After several long silent moments the priest looked up. <span style="color: Lime">“Well, one of you can drop the rouse. She’s not the victim of a plague. I can tell you that much.”</span></p><p></p><p>Semeion glared at the priest. His internal fire still burned. <span style="color: Plum">“No, really.”</span> Semeion said full of sarcastic venom as he mentally dismissed his spell that was governing Charis’ appearance. Charis returned to normal immediately and the smell vanished from the room. Even the smell lingering in Ischarus’ clothing vanished with the dismissal of the spell. As Charis returned to normal, Semeion continued in his own sarcastic tone. <span style="color: Plum">“Tell us something we don’t already know.”</span> His voice betrayed that he had been emotionally wounded recently and was torn between anger and personal injury.</p><p></p><p>[Sblock=Color Free Speech Section]</p><p>As the ring of unclean and plague rang out across the gated entrance to the city of Fingerdale, even the two tower guards that had started down the stairs upon seeing Charis fall to the ground had stopped and reeled back. There was simply no messing with anyone that had a plague. Sure, they probably had come to the town to find healing from one of the temple priests or priestesses. But there was no need to involve a non-priestly healthy body with a plagued victim until they had been cleansed by the proper healing power. To make matters worse, most of the people who were watching Charis were at least vaguely aware that this was now the second time that she had collapsed in a matter of minutes. It would seem that her condition was grave.</p><p></p><p>This didn’t particularly stop people from entering or exiting Fingerdale, however. Instead, it was as if a magical traffic circle had been formed in the center of the gate directly under the tower. People entering the town veered to their right and crowded together so as to give the fallen woman as wide of a berth as possible. People exiting also veered to their right as they passed under the gateway. Neither Ischarus nor Semeion felt in any particular danger once the crowd had been made aware that messing with them would not be very wise. Of course, the people had no way of knowing that the cry from Ischarus had simply been an improvisation. The crowd didn’t need to know that little bit of information, after all.</p><p></p><p>Rhema looked up from Charis and said quietly, “She’s not moving. She doesn’t seem to be in any particular danger because she is still breathing and all. But she is completely unconscious and just laying upon the ground.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus looked to Semeion and said, “I’ll carry her to the nearest temple where they will at least be able to revive her. I don’t know if a simple healing can cure her of whatever is wrong. If she did heal herself and still fell victim to the sickness again so quickly, perhaps healing magic is not the answer.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion smiled grimly as Ischarus spoke of carrying her to the temple. “Well, whether or not she can be cured, I think it is possible to make your trip a bit more convincing.</p><p></p><p>Rhema noticed his smile and smiled back. “Semeion, I don’t know what exactly you are thinking, but that smile at least makes me want to find out. Are you thinking of adding onto the belief that Charis is a victim of some kind of plague?”</p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded and replied, “Precisely. That is exactly what I had in mind.” He lifted his hand up from the ground as he crouched nearby her body and slowly extended it toward Charis. “Par Ah-sahn.” </p><p></p><p>As his magically charged finger touched her skin, the slight blue aura discharged across her body. It was visible to anyone that had been paying close attention but among the chaos and fear of the plague it was unlikely that anyone really saw what Semeion had done. However, immediately Charis’ skin broke out into small boils about the size of small chicken pox scars. Ischarus and Rhema also pulled back away from Charis out of instinct. </p><p></p><p>As he pulled back, Ischarus proclaimed his displeasure. “Ugh! Did you do the smell, too?”</p><p></p><p>Semeion only responded with a near diabolical smile. The smell reminded Ischarus of rotting flesh mixed with stale blood. Of course, Ischarus knew that the smell was perfect for a leper or a plague victim. In spite of this knowledge his face did not seem highly interested in having to carry that smell halfway across town to the temple. Given his familiarity with Fingerdale and the religious nature of the common person anyway, Ischarus knew that the temples would be located near the center of town in the places of honor and in the locations for the greatest protection should invading armies ever come against the city.</p><p></p><p>Rhema also commented on the effects of the spell as she pulled back. “Did you seriously have to make it quite so pungent, Semeion?”</p><p></p><p>Semeion replied. “If you are going to make an illusion that is designed to fool the people you’d best make it believable by all. Master Sathwright taught me that as one of my first arcane lessons.”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus rolled Charis’ body over so that she was lying on her back and scooped her up in both arms. “If your master could see you now, he’d be proud of this one.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion’s smile vanished into sorrow. “If…” His voice trailed into nothingness as his mind raced back to the encounter with the green dragon in which his clumsiness had gotten his master killed.</p><p></p><p>Rhema noticed Semeion’s sudden sadness. As Ischarus rose to his feet with Charis she looked to Semeion and directed his action. “Now stay in the back and make sure that we are not followed. We’ve no idea what is causing this effect in Charis and the last thing we need is a tail. I’ll go to the front and make sure Ischarus has a clear path to the temple.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded. His mind was still miles away from this city. He had mentally retreated back to the hilltop above the forest. He had not been there for months, and it had been a while since he had even given it a passing thought.</p><p></p><p>Rhema charged ahead of Ischarus and yelled to the crowd. “We’re carrying a plague victim, people! Move it or plan on visiting a priest. It’s a simple choice!” It was really much more than was necessary to get people to get out of the way, but it effectively moved the people more quickly. Even a few of the cart and carriage drivers worked hard to jerk their horses away from Ischarus’ path as their horses trotted down the central street into the temple district.</p><p></p><p>Soon Rhema found the temple she was looking for. It was also the temple that Ischarus had first introduced her to. The edifice was huge and completely made of marble on the outside. The entire temple was over one hundred feet wide and well over two hundred and fifty feet long. Columns ran the entire front of the building, each column over five feet in diameter. There were two varieties of columns. The far right and far left columns as well as the central column were carved in order to depict the same figure. The columns were in the shape of a man in full armor holding a long lance and a shield that rose from the ground to his chin. The shield was a perfect rectangle, although it had obviously been rounded to fit the curvature of the column. This image was not engraved into the column; the column had been sculpted to so that the entire column was the image of the warrior. The remaining columns along the front were tributes to what had to be the most powerful creature native to Enigmatica: the dragon. As Ischarus viewed the temple, he noted that each of the dragons he revered for their purity of heart and benevolence were all represented in the columns.</p><p></p><p>Above the columns, the temple roof rose on a relatively flat pitch. Just below the crest of the roof was a simple seal. The seal depicted the sun watching over all the actions of all the figures represented among the columns. Of course, the sun also watched over all who approached the temple by ascending either of the two central staircases. Each staircase ran between the central column of the man and the column of the dragon immediately beside it.</p><p></p><p>Rhema charged for the temple, screaming louder as she approached. One woman was exiting the temple as she heard Rhema’s cries. Not wanting to immediately soil her purity having just come from the temple herself, the woman hurriedly descended the stairs – leaping over the last five marble steps to ensure she would be well clear before Rhema got to the steps. Rhema charged up the steps and approached the central door. Once she had reached the door she paused and waited for Ischarus and Semeion. She had enjoyed the rouse of getting people to move out of the way; but she knew that there was no great need to alarm the temple staff themselves. Charis’ apparent condition was simply a rouse. The real cause of her illness was not the plague. It was more likely something much more difficult to diagnose.</p><p></p><p>Ischarus climbed the steps one at a time. He made it appear as though he was being delicate on the steps in order to avoid tripping. He was unable to see each step do to Charis lying in his arms before him. However, in reality his eyes focused on the dragon column to the left of the central stone column shaped as the warrior. Although the column was to the left to someone viewing the series of columns, it was in truth to the right hand side of the figure depicted in the central column. Ischarus paused as he approached the columns and the top of the steps. He thought about setting Charis down on the steps, but considering that the people on the street thought that she had the plague he quickly considered this a poor idea. Instead he merely bowed slightly to the central human column and bowed a little more deeply to the dragon column that had caught his attention. It certainly was not a direct image of his father dragon, but it clearly was the right type of dragon. The central neck frill and regal stance told Ischarus that it was the same type of beautiful dragon being depicted. Once he had bowed to the columns Ischarus finished ascending the stairs to meet up with Rhema.</p><p></p><p>Semeion ascended the stairs slowly, continually turning to view the crowd that had easily parted for them to pass. He still couldn’t see anyone directly following their trail. As he passed between the columns without giving them a single notice he realized that their trail would not be difficult to follow in the least. Should someone desire to follow them all they need do is let them get out of sight and ask which temple the plague victim entered. It would not be a difficult trail to follow. Even still, he found nobody who demonstrated much less than a passing curiosity or fear of catching the plague.</p><p></p><p>At the top of the stairs, Rhema looked to Ischarus and Semeion. “We’ve no clue what we are going to ask of the priests, you know.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion glanced to the doors and began to think out loud. “Well, we could simply ask for healing.”</p><p></p><p>“We could, but that might be pointless and a waste of time and resources. I say we enter as is and see what they diagnose on their own.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion nodded in agreement and Rhema opened the large door to let Ischarus pass. They were immediately greeted at the door by an acolyte who timidly kept his distance. “Forgive me, sirs and madam. My actions seem a bit unwelcoming, but I would prefer to…”</p><p></p><p>Rhema shrugged and interrupted the acolyte. “Yes, yes. You don’t want what she’s got. Very well, then. Tell us where a healing room is and fetch us a fine priest.”</p><p></p><p>The acolyte pointed down the hallway. “Third door on your right should be open. I’ll send a healing priest right in.”</p><p></p><p>Inside the room, Rhema fumbled nervously with her thumbs as she waited for the priest. After a few moments Ischarus had enough and grabbed each of her thumbs with his own hands. “Something is on your mind, Rhema. Tell us. Let us all worry together rather than keeping it to yourself.”</p><p></p><p>Rhema looked to the floor and then spoke. “Well, what if we were too late in rescuing her from her dragon father? What if she isn’t sick, but rather …”</p><p></p><p>Semeion rose as if to defend Charis’ honor as she lay unconscious across the table in the center of the room. “No!” he screamed at Rhema, clearly indicating that she had not only caught him off guard but that she had touched a nerve. “That is not an option. Not for Charis. She’s been through enough already and has come so far!”</p><p></p><p>Ischarus placed a hand upon Semeion’s shoulder. Semeion brushed it off violently and quickly out of his internal eruption of outrage. The gesture was nothing personal against Ischarus; it was an act of rebellion against Rhema’s possibility.</p><p></p><p>Rhema smiled again. “She may not have had a choice. Think about it, Semeion. How could she have just learned a new magic trick? And her sickness every time she tried to use it – it would make sense if her body was gaining new powers because she was…”</p><p></p><p>Much to Semeion’s relief the door opened and the noise drowned out the final word of Rhema’s thought. Semeion didn’t want to hear it anyway.</p><p></p><p>The three sat in silence as the priest entered the room and immediately began a silent inspection of the girl on the table before him. After several long silent moments the priest looked up. “Well, one of you can drop the rouse. She’s not the victim of a plague. I can tell you that much.”</p><p></p><p>Semeion glared at the priest. His internal fire still burned. “No, really.” Semeion said full of sarcastic venom as he mentally dismissed his spell that was governing Charis’ appearance. Charis returned to normal immediately and the smell vanished from the room. Even the smell lingering in Ischarus’ clothing vanished with the dismissal of the spell. As Charis returned to normal, Semeion continued in his own sarcastic tone. “Tell us something we don’t already know.” His voice betrayed that he had been emotionally wounded recently and was torn between anger and personal injury.</p><p>[/Sblock]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Nonlethal Force, post: 2928877, member: 35788"] As the ring of unclean and plague rang out across the gated entrance to the city of Fingerdale, even the two tower guards that had started down the stairs upon seeing Charis fall to the ground had stopped and reeled back. There was simply no messing with anyone that had a plague. Sure, they probably had come to the town to find healing from one of the temple priests or priestesses. But there was no need to involve a non-priestly healthy body with a plagued victim until they had been cleansed by the proper healing power. To make matters worse, most of the people who were watching Charis were at least vaguely aware that this was now the second time that she had collapsed in a matter of minutes. It would seem that her condition was grave. This didn’t particularly stop people from entering or exiting Fingerdale, however. Instead, it was as if a magical traffic circle had been formed in the center of the gate directly under the tower. People entering the town veered to their right and crowded together so as to give the fallen woman as wide of a berth as possible. People exiting also veered to their right as they passed under the gateway. Neither Ischarus nor Semeion felt in any particular danger once the crowd had been made aware that messing with them would not be very wise. Of course, the people had no way of knowing that the cry from Ischarus had simply been an improvisation. The crowd didn’t need to know that little bit of information, after all. Rhema looked up from Charis and said quietly, [Color=PaleGreen]“She’s not moving. She doesn’t seem to be in any particular danger because she is still breathing and all. But she is completely unconscious and just laying upon the ground.”[/Color] Ischarus looked to Semeion and said, [Color=LightBlue]“I’ll carry her to the nearest temple where they will at least be able to revive her. I don’t know if a simple healing can cure her of whatever is wrong. If she did heal herself and still fell victim to the sickness again so quickly, perhaps healing magic is not the answer.”[/Color] Semeion smiled grimly as Ischarus spoke of carrying her to the temple. [Color=Plum]“Well, whether or not she can be cured, I think it is possible to make your trip a bit more convincing.[/Color] Rhema noticed his smile and smiled back. [Color=PaleGreen]“Semeion, I don’t know what exactly you are thinking, but that smile at least makes me want to find out. Are you thinking of adding onto the belief that Charis is a victim of some kind of plague?”[/Color] Semeion nodded and replied, [Color=Plum]“Precisely. That is exactly what I had in mind.”[/Color] He lifted his hand up from the ground as he crouched nearby her body and slowly extended it toward Charis. [Color=Plum]“Par Ah-sahn.”[/Color] As his magically charged finger touched her skin, the slight blue aura discharged across her body. It was visible to anyone that had been paying close attention but among the chaos and fear of the plague it was unlikely that anyone really saw what Semeion had done. However, immediately Charis’ skin broke out into small boils about the size of small chicken pox scars. Ischarus and Rhema also pulled back away from Charis out of instinct. As he pulled back, Ischarus proclaimed his displeasure. [Color=LightBlue]“Ugh! Did you do the smell, too?”[/Color] Semeion only responded with a near diabolical smile. The smell reminded Ischarus of rotting flesh mixed with stale blood. Of course, Ischarus knew that the smell was perfect for a leper or a plague victim. In spite of this knowledge his face did not seem highly interested in having to carry that smell halfway across town to the temple. Given his familiarity with Fingerdale and the religious nature of the common person anyway, Ischarus knew that the temples would be located near the center of town in the places of honor and in the locations for the greatest protection should invading armies ever come against the city. Rhema also commented on the effects of the spell as she pulled back. [Color=PaleGreen]“Did you seriously have to make it quite so pungent, Semeion?”[/Color] Semeion replied. [Color=Plum]“If you are going to make an illusion that is designed to fool the people you’d best make it believable by all. Master Sathwright taught me that as one of my first arcane lessons.”[/Color] Ischarus rolled Charis’ body over so that she was lying on her back and scooped her up in both arms. [Color=LightBlue]“If your master could see you now, he’d be proud of this one.”[/Color] Semeion’s smile vanished into sorrow. [Color=Plum]“If…”[/Color] His voice trailed into nothingness as his mind raced back to the encounter with the green dragon in which his clumsiness had gotten his master killed. Rhema noticed Semeion’s sudden sadness. As Ischarus rose to his feet with Charis she looked to Semeion and directed his action. [Color=PaleGreen]“Now stay in the back and make sure that we are not followed. We’ve no idea what is causing this effect in Charis and the last thing we need is a tail. I’ll go to the front and make sure Ischarus has a clear path to the temple.”[/Color] Semeion nodded. His mind was still miles away from this city. He had mentally retreated back to the hilltop above the forest. He had not been there for months, and it had been a while since he had even given it a passing thought. Rhema charged ahead of Ischarus and yelled to the crowd. [Color=PaleGreen]“We’re carrying a plague victim, people! Move it or plan on visiting a priest. It’s a simple choice!”[/Color] It was really much more than was necessary to get people to get out of the way, but it effectively moved the people more quickly. Even a few of the cart and carriage drivers worked hard to jerk their horses away from Ischarus’ path as their horses trotted down the central street into the temple district. Soon Rhema found the temple she was looking for. It was also the temple that Ischarus had first introduced her to. The edifice was huge and completely made of marble on the outside. The entire temple was over one hundred feet wide and well over two hundred and fifty feet long. Columns ran the entire front of the building, each column over five feet in diameter. There were two varieties of columns. The far right and far left columns as well as the central column were carved in order to depict the same figure. The columns were in the shape of a man in full armor holding a long lance and a shield that rose from the ground to his chin. The shield was a perfect rectangle, although it had obviously been rounded to fit the curvature of the column. This image was not engraved into the column; the column had been sculpted to so that the entire column was the image of the warrior. The remaining columns along the front were tributes to what had to be the most powerful creature native to Enigmatica: the dragon. As Ischarus viewed the temple, he noted that each of the dragons he revered for their purity of heart and benevolence were all represented in the columns. Above the columns, the temple roof rose on a relatively flat pitch. Just below the crest of the roof was a simple seal. The seal depicted the sun watching over all the actions of all the figures represented among the columns. Of course, the sun also watched over all who approached the temple by ascending either of the two central staircases. Each staircase ran between the central column of the man and the column of the dragon immediately beside it. Rhema charged for the temple, screaming louder as she approached. One woman was exiting the temple as she heard Rhema’s cries. Not wanting to immediately soil her purity having just come from the temple herself, the woman hurriedly descended the stairs – leaping over the last five marble steps to ensure she would be well clear before Rhema got to the steps. Rhema charged up the steps and approached the central door. Once she had reached the door she paused and waited for Ischarus and Semeion. She had enjoyed the rouse of getting people to move out of the way; but she knew that there was no great need to alarm the temple staff themselves. Charis’ apparent condition was simply a rouse. The real cause of her illness was not the plague. It was more likely something much more difficult to diagnose. Ischarus climbed the steps one at a time. He made it appear as though he was being delicate on the steps in order to avoid tripping. He was unable to see each step do to Charis lying in his arms before him. However, in reality his eyes focused on the dragon column to the left of the central stone column shaped as the warrior. Although the column was to the left to someone viewing the series of columns, it was in truth to the right hand side of the figure depicted in the central column. Ischarus paused as he approached the columns and the top of the steps. He thought about setting Charis down on the steps, but considering that the people on the street thought that she had the plague he quickly considered this a poor idea. Instead he merely bowed slightly to the central human column and bowed a little more deeply to the dragon column that had caught his attention. It certainly was not a direct image of his father dragon, but it clearly was the right type of dragon. The central neck frill and regal stance told Ischarus that it was the same type of beautiful dragon being depicted. Once he had bowed to the columns Ischarus finished ascending the stairs to meet up with Rhema. Semeion ascended the stairs slowly, continually turning to view the crowd that had easily parted for them to pass. He still couldn’t see anyone directly following their trail. As he passed between the columns without giving them a single notice he realized that their trail would not be difficult to follow in the least. Should someone desire to follow them all they need do is let them get out of sight and ask which temple the plague victim entered. It would not be a difficult trail to follow. Even still, he found nobody who demonstrated much less than a passing curiosity or fear of catching the plague. At the top of the stairs, Rhema looked to Ischarus and Semeion. [Color=PaleGreen]“We’ve no clue what we are going to ask of the priests, you know.”[/Color] Semeion glanced to the doors and began to think out loud. [Color=Plum]“Well, we could simply ask for healing.”[/Color] [Color=LightBlue]“We could, but that might be pointless and a waste of time and resources. I say we enter as is and see what they diagnose on their own.”[/Color] Semeion nodded in agreement and Rhema opened the large door to let Ischarus pass. They were immediately greeted at the door by an acolyte who timidly kept his distance. [Color=Lime]“Forgive me, sirs and madam. My actions seem a bit unwelcoming, but I would prefer to…”[/Color] Rhema shrugged and interrupted the acolyte. [Color=PaleGreen]“Yes, yes. You don’t want what she’s got. Very well, then. Tell us where a healing room is and fetch us a fine priest.”[/Color] The acolyte pointed down the hallway. [Color=Lime]“Third door on your right should be open. I’ll send a healing priest right in.”[/Color] Inside the room, Rhema fumbled nervously with her thumbs as she waited for the priest. After a few moments Ischarus had enough and grabbed each of her thumbs with his own hands. [Color=LightBlue]“Something is on your mind, Rhema. Tell us. Let us all worry together rather than keeping it to yourself.”[/Color] Rhema looked to the floor and then spoke. [Color=PaleGreen]“Well, what if we were too late in rescuing her from her dragon father? What if she isn’t sick, but rather …”[/Color] Semeion rose as if to defend Charis’ honor as she lay unconscious across the table in the center of the room. [Color=Plum]“No!”[/Color] he screamed at Rhema, clearly indicating that she had not only caught him off guard but that she had touched a nerve. [Color=Plum]“That is not an option. Not for Charis. She’s been through enough already and has come so far!”[/Color] Ischarus placed a hand upon Semeion’s shoulder. Semeion brushed it off violently and quickly out of his internal eruption of outrage. The gesture was nothing personal against Ischarus; it was an act of rebellion against Rhema’s possibility. Rhema smiled again. [Color=PaleGreen]“She may not have had a choice. Think about it, Semeion. How could she have just learned a new magic trick? And her sickness every time she tried to use it – it would make sense if her body was gaining new powers because she was…”[/Color] Much to Semeion’s relief the door opened and the noise drowned out the final word of Rhema’s thought. Semeion didn’t want to hear it anyway. The three sat in silence as the priest entered the room and immediately began a silent inspection of the girl on the table before him. After several long silent moments the priest looked up. [Color=Lime]“Well, one of you can drop the rouse. She’s not the victim of a plague. I can tell you that much.”[/Color] Semeion glared at the priest. His internal fire still burned. [Color=Plum]“No, really.”[/Color] Semeion said full of sarcastic venom as he mentally dismissed his spell that was governing Charis’ appearance. Charis returned to normal immediately and the smell vanished from the room. Even the smell lingering in Ischarus’ clothing vanished with the dismissal of the spell. As Charis returned to normal, Semeion continued in his own sarcastic tone. [Color=Plum]“Tell us something we don’t already know.”[/Color] His voice betrayed that he had been emotionally wounded recently and was torn between anger and personal injury. [Sblock=Color Free Speech Section] As the ring of unclean and plague rang out across the gated entrance to the city of Fingerdale, even the two tower guards that had started down the stairs upon seeing Charis fall to the ground had stopped and reeled back. There was simply no messing with anyone that had a plague. Sure, they probably had come to the town to find healing from one of the temple priests or priestesses. But there was no need to involve a non-priestly healthy body with a plagued victim until they had been cleansed by the proper healing power. To make matters worse, most of the people who were watching Charis were at least vaguely aware that this was now the second time that she had collapsed in a matter of minutes. It would seem that her condition was grave. This didn’t particularly stop people from entering or exiting Fingerdale, however. Instead, it was as if a magical traffic circle had been formed in the center of the gate directly under the tower. People entering the town veered to their right and crowded together so as to give the fallen woman as wide of a berth as possible. People exiting also veered to their right as they passed under the gateway. Neither Ischarus nor Semeion felt in any particular danger once the crowd had been made aware that messing with them would not be very wise. Of course, the people had no way of knowing that the cry from Ischarus had simply been an improvisation. The crowd didn’t need to know that little bit of information, after all. Rhema looked up from Charis and said quietly, “She’s not moving. She doesn’t seem to be in any particular danger because she is still breathing and all. But she is completely unconscious and just laying upon the ground.” Ischarus looked to Semeion and said, “I’ll carry her to the nearest temple where they will at least be able to revive her. I don’t know if a simple healing can cure her of whatever is wrong. If she did heal herself and still fell victim to the sickness again so quickly, perhaps healing magic is not the answer.” Semeion smiled grimly as Ischarus spoke of carrying her to the temple. “Well, whether or not she can be cured, I think it is possible to make your trip a bit more convincing. Rhema noticed his smile and smiled back. “Semeion, I don’t know what exactly you are thinking, but that smile at least makes me want to find out. Are you thinking of adding onto the belief that Charis is a victim of some kind of plague?” Semeion nodded and replied, “Precisely. That is exactly what I had in mind.” He lifted his hand up from the ground as he crouched nearby her body and slowly extended it toward Charis. “Par Ah-sahn.” As his magically charged finger touched her skin, the slight blue aura discharged across her body. It was visible to anyone that had been paying close attention but among the chaos and fear of the plague it was unlikely that anyone really saw what Semeion had done. However, immediately Charis’ skin broke out into small boils about the size of small chicken pox scars. Ischarus and Rhema also pulled back away from Charis out of instinct. As he pulled back, Ischarus proclaimed his displeasure. “Ugh! Did you do the smell, too?” Semeion only responded with a near diabolical smile. The smell reminded Ischarus of rotting flesh mixed with stale blood. Of course, Ischarus knew that the smell was perfect for a leper or a plague victim. In spite of this knowledge his face did not seem highly interested in having to carry that smell halfway across town to the temple. Given his familiarity with Fingerdale and the religious nature of the common person anyway, Ischarus knew that the temples would be located near the center of town in the places of honor and in the locations for the greatest protection should invading armies ever come against the city. Rhema also commented on the effects of the spell as she pulled back. “Did you seriously have to make it quite so pungent, Semeion?” Semeion replied. “If you are going to make an illusion that is designed to fool the people you’d best make it believable by all. Master Sathwright taught me that as one of my first arcane lessons.” Ischarus rolled Charis’ body over so that she was lying on her back and scooped her up in both arms. “If your master could see you now, he’d be proud of this one.” Semeion’s smile vanished into sorrow. “If…” His voice trailed into nothingness as his mind raced back to the encounter with the green dragon in which his clumsiness had gotten his master killed. Rhema noticed Semeion’s sudden sadness. As Ischarus rose to his feet with Charis she looked to Semeion and directed his action. “Now stay in the back and make sure that we are not followed. We’ve no idea what is causing this effect in Charis and the last thing we need is a tail. I’ll go to the front and make sure Ischarus has a clear path to the temple.” Semeion nodded. His mind was still miles away from this city. He had mentally retreated back to the hilltop above the forest. He had not been there for months, and it had been a while since he had even given it a passing thought. Rhema charged ahead of Ischarus and yelled to the crowd. “We’re carrying a plague victim, people! Move it or plan on visiting a priest. It’s a simple choice!” It was really much more than was necessary to get people to get out of the way, but it effectively moved the people more quickly. Even a few of the cart and carriage drivers worked hard to jerk their horses away from Ischarus’ path as their horses trotted down the central street into the temple district. Soon Rhema found the temple she was looking for. It was also the temple that Ischarus had first introduced her to. The edifice was huge and completely made of marble on the outside. The entire temple was over one hundred feet wide and well over two hundred and fifty feet long. Columns ran the entire front of the building, each column over five feet in diameter. There were two varieties of columns. The far right and far left columns as well as the central column were carved in order to depict the same figure. The columns were in the shape of a man in full armor holding a long lance and a shield that rose from the ground to his chin. The shield was a perfect rectangle, although it had obviously been rounded to fit the curvature of the column. This image was not engraved into the column; the column had been sculpted to so that the entire column was the image of the warrior. The remaining columns along the front were tributes to what had to be the most powerful creature native to Enigmatica: the dragon. As Ischarus viewed the temple, he noted that each of the dragons he revered for their purity of heart and benevolence were all represented in the columns. Above the columns, the temple roof rose on a relatively flat pitch. Just below the crest of the roof was a simple seal. The seal depicted the sun watching over all the actions of all the figures represented among the columns. Of course, the sun also watched over all who approached the temple by ascending either of the two central staircases. Each staircase ran between the central column of the man and the column of the dragon immediately beside it. Rhema charged for the temple, screaming louder as she approached. One woman was exiting the temple as she heard Rhema’s cries. Not wanting to immediately soil her purity having just come from the temple herself, the woman hurriedly descended the stairs – leaping over the last five marble steps to ensure she would be well clear before Rhema got to the steps. Rhema charged up the steps and approached the central door. Once she had reached the door she paused and waited for Ischarus and Semeion. She had enjoyed the rouse of getting people to move out of the way; but she knew that there was no great need to alarm the temple staff themselves. Charis’ apparent condition was simply a rouse. The real cause of her illness was not the plague. It was more likely something much more difficult to diagnose. Ischarus climbed the steps one at a time. He made it appear as though he was being delicate on the steps in order to avoid tripping. He was unable to see each step do to Charis lying in his arms before him. However, in reality his eyes focused on the dragon column to the left of the central stone column shaped as the warrior. Although the column was to the left to someone viewing the series of columns, it was in truth to the right hand side of the figure depicted in the central column. Ischarus paused as he approached the columns and the top of the steps. He thought about setting Charis down on the steps, but considering that the people on the street thought that she had the plague he quickly considered this a poor idea. Instead he merely bowed slightly to the central human column and bowed a little more deeply to the dragon column that had caught his attention. It certainly was not a direct image of his father dragon, but it clearly was the right type of dragon. The central neck frill and regal stance told Ischarus that it was the same type of beautiful dragon being depicted. Once he had bowed to the columns Ischarus finished ascending the stairs to meet up with Rhema. Semeion ascended the stairs slowly, continually turning to view the crowd that had easily parted for them to pass. He still couldn’t see anyone directly following their trail. As he passed between the columns without giving them a single notice he realized that their trail would not be difficult to follow in the least. Should someone desire to follow them all they need do is let them get out of sight and ask which temple the plague victim entered. It would not be a difficult trail to follow. Even still, he found nobody who demonstrated much less than a passing curiosity or fear of catching the plague. At the top of the stairs, Rhema looked to Ischarus and Semeion. “We’ve no clue what we are going to ask of the priests, you know.” Semeion glanced to the doors and began to think out loud. “Well, we could simply ask for healing.” “We could, but that might be pointless and a waste of time and resources. I say we enter as is and see what they diagnose on their own.” Semeion nodded in agreement and Rhema opened the large door to let Ischarus pass. They were immediately greeted at the door by an acolyte who timidly kept his distance. “Forgive me, sirs and madam. My actions seem a bit unwelcoming, but I would prefer to…” Rhema shrugged and interrupted the acolyte. “Yes, yes. You don’t want what she’s got. Very well, then. Tell us where a healing room is and fetch us a fine priest.” The acolyte pointed down the hallway. “Third door on your right should be open. I’ll send a healing priest right in.” Inside the room, Rhema fumbled nervously with her thumbs as she waited for the priest. After a few moments Ischarus had enough and grabbed each of her thumbs with his own hands. “Something is on your mind, Rhema. Tell us. Let us all worry together rather than keeping it to yourself.” Rhema looked to the floor and then spoke. “Well, what if we were too late in rescuing her from her dragon father? What if she isn’t sick, but rather …” Semeion rose as if to defend Charis’ honor as she lay unconscious across the table in the center of the room. “No!” he screamed at Rhema, clearly indicating that she had not only caught him off guard but that she had touched a nerve. “That is not an option. Not for Charis. She’s been through enough already and has come so far!” Ischarus placed a hand upon Semeion’s shoulder. Semeion brushed it off violently and quickly out of his internal eruption of outrage. The gesture was nothing personal against Ischarus; it was an act of rebellion against Rhema’s possibility. Rhema smiled again. “She may not have had a choice. Think about it, Semeion. How could she have just learned a new magic trick? And her sickness every time she tried to use it – it would make sense if her body was gaining new powers because she was…” Much to Semeion’s relief the door opened and the noise drowned out the final word of Rhema’s thought. Semeion didn’t want to hear it anyway. The three sat in silence as the priest entered the room and immediately began a silent inspection of the girl on the table before him. After several long silent moments the priest looked up. “Well, one of you can drop the rouse. She’s not the victim of a plague. I can tell you that much.” Semeion glared at the priest. His internal fire still burned. “No, really.” Semeion said full of sarcastic venom as he mentally dismissed his spell that was governing Charis’ appearance. Charis returned to normal immediately and the smell vanished from the room. Even the smell lingering in Ischarus’ clothing vanished with the dismissal of the spell. As Charis returned to normal, Semeion continued in his own sarcastic tone. “Tell us something we don’t already know.” His voice betrayed that he had been emotionally wounded recently and was torn between anger and personal injury. [/Sblock] [/QUOTE]
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