If

[Der Fuhrer Dyszel]

Time stood still as Edea watched the small wilting flower slowly wither and die in the bright high noon sun. She listened intently to the subtle flow of water trickle down the small bubbling creek, hearing the soft murmurs of the water and a few insects and birds chattering and chirping nearby. What remained of this small creek was once rumored to be one of the original rivers of water....oh how time had reduced it to such a pitiful state. She knew time had a way of changing the very world and all that lived within it. The waters always flowed, shifted, lapped, eroding away the land and creating new ones, all the while sustaining the life encapsulated within this planet. These were the subtle miracles of Keiga, always changing a drop at a time, always sustaining with an ever replenishing source of life.

Feeling the cold water despite the heat of the dry hot day, Edea dipped her hand into the trickling waters. It was still unnaturally cold as if coming from another realm of existence and springing to life in that very place. Many times Edea tried to find the start of this creek but was unable. There appeared to be neither beginning nor end. It was just there, in that very spot, traveling the length of the eye in both directions and disappearing into the wilderness surrounding it. The whole atmosphere with its untainted wilderness and fertile grounds gave off an otherworldly appearance. To say the least, it was not entirely unbelievable that this was a river of Keiga. After all, what better could design such a perfect metaphor of existence through water?

Stirred from her thoughts, Edea heard the footsteps of an approaching person. She turned to see her long haired delicate assistant nearing; carrying with her a folder filled with journals, magazine articles, and newspaper clippings...the raw materials forming many of their points for the upcoming conference. "It is time," the soft voice barely sounded above the murmuring of the creek, "shall we go?"

Edea smiled her sad smile as she looked to her assistant. Leaning towards the creek, she scooped up a handful of water and trickled it over the soil of the small flower. It was not much, but it another day, a day more of life to fight against the inevitable. It was the least she could do under the circumstances. Looking back to the far distance, Edea took in the beauty of the fading lush life around her. So much had changed over the years, the creek now a dwindling trickle through the land. What would the following year bring to this land? She hesitated as she turned to depart, enjoying the last look around. A deep sadness filled her....never again would see this land with the beauty she had at that moment. With that thought, she departed, leaving behind the land to Keiga.


Several hours passed by many means of transportation. As honored guests, Edea and her assistant were attending the exclusive Conference Religio. They traveled alone despite the security protocols concerning this conference. With an increase in hostility towards religious affairs during these troubled times, measures to ensure the safety of the attendees was of the utmost importance. Despite this knowledge, Edea sat calmly in the car staring at the window. She had little to fear from others; for even if they inflicted bodily harm, she still had her belief. Sadly watching people rush about her, Edea could not help but appreciate the uniqueness and individual importance each person had in Keiga's calling. Little did they know how important every single person would end up becoming.

As they rounded the corner to the conference hall, the press was already awaiting. Word had seeped out and reporters ascended upon the attendees like vultures drawn to a fresh kill. Even now, protestors and supporters were forming their respective lines around the building, a simple gesture Edea admired. She had always welcomed diversity of thought and contradiction....for faith was born of these. Stepping out of the car, Edea's elegant long black dress hugged her tall regal frame. For one of the most influential members of Keiganism, she certainly did not look the part. One would easily assume she had gotten lost on her way to a "black tie" event. Joining the conference, Edea took her seat among the most renowned leaders, theologians, scholars, and believers. They all were gathered for a single purpose to unite together in thought and being to fight a much more fearsome and troubling common enemy. The fate of the world counted on them; she just needed to make them see this.


OOC: For those unfamiliar with my RP's, I run open RP's....all are welcome to join! Please contact me if you have questions or concerns about how to join! ^_^ I do not discourage anyone from joining, but I do ask you follow some simple rules. My RP's follow NS etiquette, found elsewhere on these forums. All RP'ers, as expected, are upheld to this etiquette. As RP host, I also maintain the right to oversee the direction of this RP. This seldom becomes an issue in my RP's unless someone attempts to hijack my threads. I do my own hijacking and do a fine job....I don't need much help there.

As of the direction of this specific RP, this is a religious RP. Yes, I am daring to go there. This is also a "RP" and I need not explain that the views expressed here in are NOT the views of the players and rather just responses of characters. This is not a General topic....so if you are uncomfortable dealing with religion, please keep your opinions outside of this thread. I will not tolerate OOC comments about the beliefs expressed within this thread. I trust those who join to be adults about the issue and respond IC'ly within the contexts of the RP.

The thread itself is introducing a made-up NS religion of Keiganism, rooted elsewhere throughout the game. The purpose is to explore this religion while also bringing other RP materials together. There may be times where IC debates take place, but keep in mind that they are not OOC personal views and they do not reflect RL belief systems. Feel free to join as you see fit, but right now I am specifically looking for conference attendees. I can really use a few RP'ers to take the reigns as an attendee.

I hope this helps clear some things up. TG me with questions or concerns and welcome to "If!"

^_^

[Almajoya]

A small rented car ferried Sewen Kawabata and her detail to the conference site. Sewen was not entirely sure why her Empress had bade her attend. Almaiya was not a religion per se, but a spirituality. Neither was Sewen a Cardinal or High Priestess or anything, as Almaiya did not have a leader of any sort. Sewen was merely considered a very good theologist, in Christianity and other religions worldwide.

Sewen's form slid gracefully out of the car and into the paparazzi outside. She was flanked by her assistant, Amelia, on her right, and an Imperial Guardswoman, Sara, on her left. Sewen and Amelia had chosen to wear simple blouses and skirts, all cotton, to keep within Almaiya guidelines and to keep them from sticking out too much. Sara was dressed in her Guard uniform- mostly black, with touches of purple and green at her shoulders.

Amelia carried a small portfolio bag containing dossiers on the representatives expected to attend. Already she had recognized the Keigan representative, dressed elegantly in a black dress. She nodded to Sewen, and the three took seats as near to the woman as possible.

[Midlonia]

The figure was a surprisingly young man for what he was wearing. The man was only 31 yet his robes denoted he was a bishop in the Church of Midlonia, or CoM. He had cropped blonde hair and pale green eyes leaning on the seat of the large car next to him was his staff. It was long and had at it's head the church's symbol, the Star of David with a cross superimposed over the top.

Sat next to this staff was a plain clothed priest even younger than the Bishop. He was fidgeting nervously and seemed to be flicking back and forth through a wrist computer, staring at the words that floated in front of him. His mouth was moving very slightly as he read the scriptures as well as financial reports.

The Church of Midlonia had capitalized out of the chaos of what was often mistakenly refereed to as the Third Moonstone War. A war against a semi-demonic enemy that had resulted in the deaths of tens of thousands of soldiers as well as civilians. This included a number of prominent church going businessmen who's companies the Church had inherited. They now had to keep those running, but it did keep a constant revenue stream into the church coffers itself, which permitted them to maintain their remaining holy sites and to actually form a semi-private militia force.

Two such members of this force were sat on the opposite side of the vehicle's rear seating, with a further two in the front driving the car and generally monitoring the area. With a nod the figure on the right, an Angelis complete with neatly folded white wings pushed the earpiece in a little more as she listened. “We're nearly there, Bishop Hartley.” She stated simply before starting to check the pistol and sword, known as a Midlonian-Pattern Cleaver which was smaller and thinner than it's Freestian counterpart. The other figure, a human being did the same The Bishop also adjusted the staff next to him a little. It could, at a push, be used like a quarterstaff to defend himself with.

The car, a Midlonian Astin Super Seventy hissed as it came to a gentle stop, it was a Hydrogen powered machine and thus silent aside from the quiet occasional hum of the electric motor.

Slowly, to the thump and crash of photographers flashes and clamouring calls from the media personalities, he spotteded a couple of camera from MBC and it's associated subidiaries and simply waved, before giving a blessing.

Stepping inside the conference room itself the Bishop frowned slightly. “So.” He said finally to his nervous aide next to him, named Bratcher. “Why are we here?”

[Ultaron]

The vehicle to pull up next was a Omacon Z400, a dark metallic hovering armored vehicle which served as the ground transport for Ultaron delegates. when the vehicle stopped, a tall, young, woman with natural dark blue hair stepped out. She was wearing a long hooded flowing velvet red cloak. This was Zana, the High priestess of the religion of Xanacorot, the official religion of Ultaron. Behind her walked 2 armed men and a somewhat smaller man who looked a little out of place among the towering guards and priestess.

"Priestess, why have you agreed to attend this summit?"

"I told you Korma, Lord Darconos wants me to spread our religion."

"Forgive my impatence, but I feel this trip is a waste of time."

"To challenge me, Korma, is to challenge Lord Darconos."

"Forgive me m'lady."

With that Korma, Zana and the 2 guards make there way to the assembly hall.

[Cats Keep]

No vehicle's arrival heralded the coming of the next personage intent on attending the convocation, this Conference Religio, none was really needed. Shalamar, the Lady of Cats Keep simply Stepped herself and her Bonds, Smug and MBC to a pool of shadow near the conference hall. She and the Flap cats were noticed by few, but even those shrugged her arrival off, under her subtle and skilled influence. The Tenerista, the formal title that a Keeperess of a Tower held, had a decided preference for being unmolested by the media.

Her personal aide, and adopted daughter, Valkidris de la Mar, Stepped in a moment later. Both women moved with regal grace as they glided into the Delegates Chamber on soft slippered feet, the silk of their deep crimson formal robes making a muted surrus. Lady Shalamar paused a moment, stepping aside so as to not block the aisle, as she took in the chamber and those already arrived.

She recognized,from the dossiers she had studied, the Lady Edea in an elegant formal gown and Sewen Kawabata of Almajoya in comfortable looking cotton outfit. Their delegations had already seated themselves.

A very young looking bishop, if she read the vestments correctly, of the Church of Midlonia – Hartley his name was she recalled. The Tenerista also noted the presence of the High priestess of Xanacorot, Zana. Neither the Bishop or the Hight Priestess had chosens seats yet she noticed as well. Thankfully her dossiers had been thorough, for she had never met any of these before.

Lady Shalamar moved past those still standing with a respectful nod but did not stop to speak to any. The tall, auburn haired Keeperess, though her hair was completely hidden by the formal veils, with only bright amber eyes visible - went directly to the unclaimed seats next to the Almajoyan delegates and that put her very close – within comfortable speaking distance in fact – to the Lady Edea.

The thirteen thousand year old Tenerista looked about with intently observant eyes as she sat. Once her robes and veils were settled about her, Smug and MBC leapt up to divide her lap between them, their wings rustling faintly as they made themselves comfortable. Valkidris hid a smile, as she usually did, at their antics and took the next plus one over. The two flap cats would move to the empty seat once the conference started and their interest engaged. They were highly intelligent, more so than many humans, and their observations would be of benefit later when they were in private.

[Ultaron]

"Thats her." said Korma pointing to the newly arrived Shalamar

"I am aware, i read the files as well Korma." said Zana with a tinge of anger in her voice.

"Shall i secure the seats directly be...." Korma trailed off noticing that Zana, had already made towards the seats directly behind the Lady of Cats. Korma rushed foward to sit next to the High Priestess.

"Hello, Lady Shalamar, my name is Zana. I am the High Priestess of Xanacort. It is an honor to meet you, and your pets. They are adorable."

[Cats Keep]

"Hello, Lady Shalamar, my name is Zana. I am the High Priestess of Xanacort. It is an honor to meet you, and your pets. They are adorable."

Lady Shalamar's lips were hidden by her face veil, but her lips twitched momentarily in as small cats grin and the Tenerista replied with a twinkle in her hot amber eyes. Lively, sharp eyes - that while they may not have shown any trace of the weight of years - held a wealth of experience "It is my great honor and pleasure to meet you too High Priestess Zana, though I fear you mistake Smug and MBC."

MBC, his velvet soft, furless skin matching the leather of his wings, flowed from Lady Shalamar's lap into the empty seat beside, growing as he did so, becoming a much larger - fully human sized - and that was not the fullest extent that he could resize himself. His voice was growly with annoyance "Why humans tend to presume that just because a being doesn't look like a human doesn't mean that the being is not sentient. Honoured Priestess, I can speak for both Smug and myself. We are not pets by any stretch of the common imagination."

His words automatically translated into each listeners 'signal' language - he'd long ago cast a 'babel' working upon himself and made it permanent. He was a far more skilled Mage than his Lady Bond, for Shalamar would admit to being able to work only the most minor of castings.

"However, little is known of us outside the Keep, and your briefings in all likelihood, contained no notes concerning our abilities and intelligence." He added, his annoyance fading. But we both" He again looked over at Smug who nodded in solemn eyed agreement "are pleased to meet you. Perhaps we can discuss our various observations over dinner this evening."

Lady Shalamar nodded "That would be most pleasant, I'd love to be your hostess tonight Zana, if that is possible,”

[Ultaron]

"Oh, how rude of me. Smug and MBC was it? I am very sorry to have offended you. Lady Shalamar I would be greatly honored to dine with you and your fellow beings. I have heard of the many miracles that you have preformed over the years. You are an inspiration to all who live a religious life. I do ask that my advisor Korma be able to attend."

While the exchange between Lady Shalamar and The High Priestess Zana continued, Korma marveled at how easy Lady Shalamar was being coxed, Korma made a large effort to hide his thoughts, as well as the thoughts of Zana. While Korma looked like a human, albet a very short human, he was in fact the last of an ancient race of beings that are spoken of only as legend. Using the higher powers that his race naturally possessed he was able to scan the minds and thoughts of every creature, except two:
MBC and Smug
This troubled Korma greatly for there was only one known race that could block the powers of his race. This race was as ancient as Korma's, they were shape shifters of high intelligence. They fed off of fear, destruction, pain and death. Korma hoped to God above that the creatures sitting with Lady Shalamar where not them, cause there arrival here would only mean one thing:

They where all gonna die.

[Cats Keep]

MBC settled his wings and began to shringk. "Oh please, no insult. You didn't know and we do look cuddly, a trait we kept when aeons ago in our native realm we evolved from winged feline like beings. Looking harmless is very useful you hve to admit" That brought a low chuckle from the tuxedo patterned Smug and he flicked on irridescently feathered wing as his lips turned up in a grin.

Though, actually as Korma tried to enter Lady Shalamar's and Valkidris's mind all he would find were nested, perfectly constructed shields, that while some of those many layers would allow him the illusion he had entered their minds, in reality he hadn't. The ancient Tenerista looked over at the small being and shook her head, but she broadcast no anger or malice. Shalamar was not being cozened, or coaxed, and accepted flattery with a small shrug of discomfort. She had never agrandised herself or her abilities, she had paid a heavy price to earn them and her skill with them. Nor was she interested in reading minds 'just to be reading minds' a notion that many had - that all of those with Gifts wanted to delve into their minds - and nothing could be further than the truth. Mental privacy was indictrinated in asll of Cats Keeps Citizens, and besides the vast majority of minds were unpleasant in the extreme for some one Gifted to look into. Casual mind reading? ah...not gonna happed -But it was one of the greatest fears. And Lady Shalamar respected that fear.

Shalamar enjoyed meeting new people and had no problem discussing the Divine, and how others perceived such.

The crimson of their silk robes was a warning - they were active psionics. That they were silk - it was the natural insulator -that in Valkidris's case was meant to protect her from inadvertent contact - both Leroni also wore gloves.

However in Lady Shalamar's case it was to protect the rest of the world from her. With the enhancement of the silk wrapped, fist sized Matrix - the crystal, silver, blue and gold, quasi living Starstone - at her throat she could, should she choose, crack the world, and though she had not done so here she had elsewhere. While she was not normally aggressive, but there were those unGifted unknowingly sensitive who were often -inadvertently, unintentionally -over whelmed. She sincerely preferred for that not to happen.

The Lady had spent close to thirteen thousand years learning her craft and her Donas, her Mind Gifts. She was a Keeperess, the living conductor of the joined psionic energies of a Circle. Her personal working Circle was made up of over one hundred and fifty of the most advanced of Cats Keep highly trained adepts. She often acted as the Keeper for multi circle workings as well. A normal working Circle was limited to a dozen maybe fifteen. Her thoughts and person were her own.

For Cats Keep was a nation populated entirely by those with at least latent psionics, and all - active or latent- were trained - for the world’s safety.

Flapats bore most humans no malice, bore most races none either. They chose voluntarily to live among them, Bonding with those that matched closely with them, offering aide, companionship and love that needed nothing in return. Bonding was rare and very special.. And they far preferred to feast on fish, hare and only the best cuts of beef…when their Bond could be coaxed in to it.

[Ultaron]

OOC: i think its time to kill this thread, only 2 ppl are using it >.<

[Midlonia]

ooc: Or, maybe, it's because it's Christmas/New Year time? Bit of paitence...

[Ultaron]

OOC: Very true lol

[Der Fuhrer Dyszel]

Silently sitting, Edea watched the others interact with the intended purpose of understanding each other through their interactions. While there was no masking it, she was fairly simple in comparison to the others. There was no hiding that she was very much human and additionally very delicate and fragile....the intrinsic glass figurine teetering at the edge of a high shelf. Faith alone was all she had to defend herself.

As she remained silent, she appeared sullen, a sadness in her eyes that all she had loved had or was about to be painfully torn from her world. And even though her face remained motionless as a beautiful statue carved in marble, it was difficult to miss the almost palpable sadness of her eyes. With a subtle gesture made beneath the table, her assistant took the lead without missing a beat, as if timing was amply prepared for in advance.

"Hello my fellow friends and welcome. I am sure you have many questions and concerns, which we will get to momentarily, but I would like to first introduce myself. My name is Tessera Un and I am my Lady's personal assistant. My lady, Edea, and I come to you from sacred lands in the great East which we simply call Alluvion. We come to you today with the hope of uniting our magnificent and diverse religions against a common fearsome foe. This alone I know to be difficult. Such varying thoughts and practices have divided us and over the years we have become more separated and less cohesive. Perhaps it is time that we change this, that we can begin to work together. But to do this, I realize we must work through so many hundreds to thousands of years of exclusion."

Tessera paused a moment as she looked over the group of collected individuals. Her long blond hair was tied back with a soft light pink ribbon while her white dress suit seemed only a fair shade lighter than her skin. She caught Edea, transfixed upon the attendee sitting before, as if trying to read into the person's soul. She only smiled simply, knowing this to be a custom of Edea's to watch people around her closely.

Resuming her speech, she extended her small dainty hands, "With that said, I feel it is best to go ahead with our introductions. It would be very pleasant to learn more about each of you and the religions you represent." Extending her hand, she vaguely motioned to the next taker, "please begin?"


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OOC: Please refrain from making unnecessary OOC comments unless accompanied with a post. I feel they detract from the thread and it looks cluttered. If you think it will help, I will start an OOC comment thread. I tend only to start those when the need arises. Should you feel more comfortable with one, I will gladly start one. Just TG or MSN me and let me know. Thank you! ^_^

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[Xirnium]

In the mists before the Beginning, Fortune and Destiny cast lots to decide whose the Game should be.

And She that won walked through the mists to the Halls of the Elegant Isles and said, ‘Now make Gods and Worlds for Me, for I have won the cast and the Game is to be Mine.’

Who it was that won the cast, and whether it was Fortune or whether Destiny that went through the mists before the Beginning to the Halls of the Elegant Isles - none knoweth.

The Book of Sighing Silence, vii, 11-13

Fillide z’Allenàya turned, opened her eyes, closed them. A curiously reptillian gesture. She nearly drowsed, for it was well past the hour for some dandelion tea and a slice of seed-cake, or perhaps a piece of toast spread with Marmite.

Her bloody crimson hood, lined in yarn-dyed taffeta, had been thrown back to expose sharp features and a high brow suited to stern sensibility, up-curving lips that might have given an impression of amiability if not for the sober calmness of her large, grey-blue eyes. She was a tall, thin, chalk-white cloaked figure, owlish and sagacious behind gigantic iron-rimmed glasses, her long hair silver-white and wound in an elaborate knot on top of her head.

In her arms a cornucopia, an enormous, curved billy-goat’s horn filled to overflowing with pale poppies and white roses, plums, apricots and the fruit of the blackthorn bush, and ears of millet and corn.

Fillide z’Allenàya was a sibyl, skilled in the healing arts, in soothsaying and in practical magic. But even she did not know what sent her forth. It might be the whisper of Our Lady or, if this was too bold a thought, another Grey Lord. Perhaps it was the suggestion of one of the Home Gods that sat before the hearth and minded the fire.

‘My name is Fillide,’ she murmured in introduction, ‘and I am a sister in the temple in Fängänyn of all the Grey Lords save One, for none may pray to Our Lady. I utter the secret words and perform the mystic rites of each of the Gods in the temple as is my wont.’

Eyes closed, the sibyl nodded. ‘I have often pondered on the Natural Order of Things and the Wheel of Fortune and the works of all the Gods.’ She had relaxed into a thinking posture, her hands concealed in the sleeves and long, draping folds of her woollen cloak. ‘And it seems that the Natural Order of Things is right and the Gods benignant Gods, yet there is sorrow in the world. It seems that Life is bountiful, that Death calms all who suffer, that Time deals not too harshly with the hours, and that all the Gods are good, yet there is sorrow in the world.’

She once again opened her eyes, her voice measuring out controlled calmness. ‘That is why I have come. Learning is a sacrament I must receive, over and over, until I am purified and may know the Truth.’

[Midlonia]

Hartley had sat down by now after coming into the conference room proper and finding a spot with a small plaque marked "Church of Midlonia Delegation" after listening to the first pair of introductions he finally handed his staff to the Angelis to his side who took it with a revered bow to her head.

"I am Bishop Hartley of the Ashby diocese, President of the Greater Kingdom Ecumenical Council as well as a member of the House of Lords.” He paused for a moment as he aide whispered into his ear.

“Having faced demons already within the last decade it seems highly concerning to myself and the Church that something similar should be occurring again so soon.” He leant forward and steeped his hands. “The immediate question that comes to mind is... Is this is a physical threat, or a spiritual one?”

[Ultaron]

"M'lady I must excuse myself." whispered Korma

"Hurry back Korma, I will need your sharp mind for this." said Lady Zana

Korma rushed out of the hall into the night air {Whats wrong with me} he thought. As he recapped his brief journey in the minds of all the attendents. Of couse he focused on the indivduals from Cat's Keep. {hmm i felt no malious so perhaps i am wrong} Suddenly without warning Korma was hit with a flash of very strong images

The council building burning
Delegetes dying
Wars in Alluvion
his own death
destrucion of planets

And then he heard a voice in his head
{Ahh, Korma} said the voice {I should have known you where here} the Voice sounded of death, destrucion and nothing but pure evil. It was a Voice he heard once before.
{I thought we banished you} responded Korma

{Koorrmmaa i am eternal, you cant banish me, you cant banish evil}

With that Korma fell to the ground screaming in pain, and grasping his head in agoney.

"THE VOICE!" he shouted "THE VOICE!" then he collapsed in a heap in front of the assembily hall.

From inside then 2 Ultaron guards heard Korma and ran outside to find him on the ground, he was dead.

[Cats Keep]

Shalamar waited as Bishop Hartley and the others introduced themselves, glancing at the one who attempted to break through her shields as that one left the room. She hoped that his inability to penetrate her mind had not harmed him - but if it had thast was his dificulty not hers. Breaching into others minds without permission was a killing offence in her books.

She began to introduce herself but stopped as a great scream echoed in from outside - attenuated by the distance and interveining walls, it shill shuddered through the room in an ominous manner, accompanied by the palpable presence of evil. Cocking one eyebrow behind her veil she watched as some of the High Priestess Zana's guard rushed out, as one hand went lightly to her throat, readying her own defenses should trouble seek the convocation out more directly.

[Xirnium]

Fillide glanced after the hurrying men with a small, worried smile, wondering what might have happened. It had been a convincingly bloodcurdling scream, a prolonged screech of horror straight out of penny dreadfuls and gothic romance.

‘Goodness. What was that?’ asked the sibyl, in a loud whisper. She looked at Shalamar with an expression showing amusement at her own confusion.

[Almajoya]

The scream had not missed Sewen's consciousness. She shrugged it off as an overreaction to something- spirits knew, with these sort of people, overreactions were wont to happen. She was unfamiliar with Xanacort, but she knew a bit too much about the Church of Midlonia.

Amelia had assumed the worst, as had Sara, who immediately stood up, both hands on the hilt of her sword.

Sewen raised a hand. The Spirits were stirring, rallying around her. "We are in no immediate danger," she said, mostly to Sara, "yet. Perhaps Priestess Zana can tell us more."

[Midlonia]

Both of the Crusaders also stood up, hands going to swords and pistols. Hartley glanced to his aide who shrugged and looked worried. Hartley recovered his staff from the Angelis Knight next to him and held it as he stood up slightly. “It seems to me the security of this place is not as apt as first though.”

Hartley frowned. “I must say I am... disappointed that there are no anti-magic or psychic defences set up here that allows for such unstable beings to run off screaming like animals.” The bishop shook his head. “If I may be so bold as to suggest we permit a small dampening field using technology we have developed upon this room to stop such further effects threatening the rest of us assembled here?”

[Ultaron]

Zana rushed outside pushing past the crowd of people that where already out there. When she made her way to the front and saw Korma, she stopped cold. The body was clearly Korma's but it had been ravaghed. His skin was falling off his body and turing to dust, while his organs were slowly liquifiying into puddles. The only thing that remained unharmed was his head. One of the guards picked it up and handed it to Zana. A quick examination of his head confirmed her fears.

"Can i get your attention please?" said Zana tenativly "I don't know what did this to Korma, but I do know that it was a strong psychic force. Korma was part on a long dead civilization called Geishmorns. They keep there bodies together simply by thought. Although I have never seen a dead Geishmon before Korma told me that this rapid decomposing is normal. However for some reason Korma focused his energy enough to keep his head in one peace. Unfortunatly i have no psychic power. I would request that someone enters whats left of his mind so we can find out what or who did this." After she made the announcement she remebered something, a story that Korma had once told her when she was growing up, a story about something he called the Voice. Zana feared that the story might be coming true.

[Xirnium]

Fillide started back in fright at the severed head before her, murmuring something in a tone of mingled curiosity and surprise as she adjusted a button at her throat. She was pale, she drew away. ‘How is it possible?’ Normally her conscience would sharply rule out such obvious tricks, but she had been thwarted. ‘A human head!’

Then recovering her self-possession, she cleared her throat, lowered her voice a fraction. She spoke crisply, she was firm. ‘Now see here, Zana,’ she demanded, and she became suspicious of the priestess of Xanacorot. Fillide pulled her shawl and cloak about her. ‘Just what is the meaning of all this? Briefly, mind. Nothing fancy. Your mysteries cease to entertain!’

Her heart beat faster, at last unchecked. Fillide cast about for potential allies in this disturbing conclave and turned, almost with relief, from the severed head to meet the look of Bishop Hartley. His pale green eyes were friendly. ‘You bewilder us with this talk of mind reading.’ She glared distastefully at Zana. ‘Illusions and traps. You conceal yourself deliberately.’

[Ultaron]

Zana was taken back by the sharp tongue of the Xirnium deleagete. "Please forgive my hesitation but i truly dont know what exactly is going on. As i told you before, Korma wasn't human his abliities far exceed any humans. I shared everything I know."

With that said Zana lost her calm composer and started to cry. One of the Ultaron guards stepped forth.

"Forgive the Priestess, she will be taking to her chambers for the rest of the evening." The guard then opened the door and Zana, still clutching on to Korma's head, climbed into the vehicle which then took off.

[Midlonia]

Hartley shook his head again as the priestess vanished from the conference almost as soon as she'd arrived clutching a head of some sort. He frowned deeply again and finally straightened out his suit and sat down, handing his staff once again to the Angelis next to him. He placed his hands together in a quick murmur of prayer for the dead being, he wasn't of the church but that didn't matter. Finally Hartley leant towards his aide who had joined him in the prayer and spoke quietly.

"See if you can contact the Department of Occult Warfare, use my name. Ask if they have any of their psychics nearby or available to travel here, see what on earth was going on there. It's worth investigating if nothing else." Hartley then licked his lips softly and sat forward, clearing his throat. "I hope now that this matter is solved we can actually get onto the reason why we are here. Lady Edea, would you care to enlighten those gathered here as to what this threat is you speak of?"

[Cats Keep]

Fillide said "Just what is the meaning of all this? Briefly, mind. Nothing fancy. Your mysteries cease to entertain!’...Illusions and traps. You conceal yourself deliberately.

’

Shalamar's eyes grew distinctly unfriendly, holding a barely restrained frost and fire, but she let Hartley speak while she gave a small nod to Valkidris who quietly without fanfare, followed the Priestess Zana from the room. The second in command of Cats Keep was certainly well trained enough to do as the Priestess requested.

"Hartley spoke "I hope now that this matter is solved we can actually get onto the reason why we are here. Lady Edea, would you care to enlighten those gathered here as to what this threat is you speak of?"

Before Lady Edea could speak, Shalamar stood, bowing with grace and great dignity, speaking in a respectful but unapologetic tone “Forgive me Lady Edea, Bishop Hartley, but I must speak.”

She looked over at Fillide z’Allenàya and her words were cold and clear “You claim to speak for your Deities, act as their interface with the mortal, the mundane, and yet you have the temerity to claim that another’s request is some sort of smoke and mirrors. If the engrams of his mind retain enough energy they are, given the proper skills, quite possibly readable. That is why I sent my daughter.”

“Your intolerance disgraces you. You wield the powers Arcane and yet in your mind the Mind Gifts are someone’s con game, someone’s illusion and fakery.”

“Well let me introduce myself. I am Shalamar Thorskald, Tenerista of Cats Keep and I have trained in, and wielded, the Donas, the psionic abilities, for more turning of the millennia than most nations have existed. And I was an initiated priestess ere that. And I well believe that your Lady would be sorely disappointed in your actions and unpleasantness just now”

She turned to Harley. "I can tell you, without you having to resort to your Department of Occult Warfare, somewhat of what happened. "The being, the one named Korma, was precognitive, perhaps accurately, perhaps not. I know not what he saw in specifics, but it seems that part of it is the apparent reemergence of an ancient evil. An evil that so stressed his being that it brought about his discorporation. Will it affect us here? I know not, but it cost one of us some one she held dear, a trusted councilor, and her grief was met by profound unkindness" Shalamar believed in driving a less on home, and her glance, on those last words were , was directed at Fillide

"How can we hope to discourse and find common ground when we treat each other as fakirs, cheats and frauds? There are as many faces to the Divine as there are people and as many paths back to the Divine. Just because her's is not yours does not mean hers is lesser than yours."