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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Ruined" data-source="post: 1240657" data-attributes="member: 113">11th of Chardot, yr. 150 A.V. “So you’ll be leaving us this day?” Tréan looked up at Madame Sonja, the aging priestess of Madriel. The woman had been kind enough to allow the three companions to stay in her house for the night. She had plenty of room, as her children had moved on and she herself was a widow. In turn, they had helped as they could with chores around the house. “Yes, ma’am.” Tréan was packing the satchel she had acquired in Quelsk. It was a symbol of her flight from her former life, and one she would gladly rid herself of. “A shame,” Sonja said thoughtfully. “I was enjoying the company.” Tréan felt the same way. It was comforting to be in a calm town like this, with people she felt she could trust. But who knew how far behind the various soldiers, assassins and bounty hunters were? Surielle, Gerad and she had arranged to travel to Oakdale with petitioners that had come to the church in Three Moons. Sonja had told them that some of the faithful would travel every week to worship at this particular temple. A temple should probably be established in Oakdale, but Sonja joked that it kept her spirits lively to see so many parishioners. “I would not want to pry, Tréan, but you seem troubled. How long has it been since you’ve spoken with another priestess?” “A good while.” Tréan said, and slowly sat upon the bed. Her willpower and resolve shattered that easily. She told Sonja everything from the assassination of the Satrap to their flight along the Broadreach River. Tréan stressed that she and her friends had no part in the murder of the Satrap, no matter what rumors rose from the South. It was a relief to confide in Sonja. Trean knew the healing power of the Alcunari, a different yet effective kind of confession employed by the church of Madriel. Sonja was silent for a minute, absorbing Tréan’s words. “At times, I wish my calling was simpler, such as what you have here,” Tréan said. “Simpler?” Sonja chuckled. “Think of where Three Moons lies, child. This is one of the closest villages to Glivid-Autel.” Tréan sat back. The name of the renegade city of necromancers was reviled among the Order of the Morning Sky. Stories always emerged of victims stolen from within the Hornsaw Forest and taken for eternal servitude in that foul city. Among the people of Ghelspad, many thought the horrors to be tales meant to scare children, but those who served Madriel knew the truth. Glivid-Autel was an abomination. “I must watch everything that transpires in this countryside and report it to my superiors. It is not nearly as simple as you would believe.” “I meant no offense…” Sonja’s hand was quick to move and comfort Tréan. “Of course not dear, and none was taken. I just want you to know that your burden may seem too heavy at times, but the calling is just. No matter how much it pains you at the time. We serve the people, and they must rely on us. “Thank you,” Tréan said. She thought for a moment, then turned to question Sonja. “How did you know that I held so many secrets? I know I’m no accomplished liar, but I can ill afford to appear so obvious to others…” Sonja smiled. “Your friend Surielle told me. She was worried for your conscience.”</blockquote>

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