A slight breeze, so faint that the gnats flying lackadaisically over the heads of the villagers barely felt it, meandered through the town, carrying with it small bits of debris from the outside world. Most was dust, useless except to clog the lungs of villagers and give an earthy taste to the world around them. One gust, however, more powerful than the next, brought with it an item of unknown importance. The simple page of a journal. This page was retrieved by a curious child, the son of a literate man, one of the few ones within the small village. On the sheet of paper in question lay a message that was perhaps, deliberately placed on the gust of wind. The contents of the page that were legible are as follows:

Fourth Week....Day

Within.....of the next village. Encountered.....orms, many inches of rain, strong gusts of....supply of food is....low. Hoping to make....to....inn by next....

The remainder of the page was rendered illegible due to water damage. Most of the words written were a blurs, their original meanings at best obscure, and at worst, unintelligible. The page was stiff, and smelled of musk and mold. It had obviously dried in the sun after it was torn from the page of whatever book is originated in. It was the son who spoke first. "What should we do Pa?". The literate man shook his head, brooding over whether to head out and search for whoever was lost, or to burn the page and forgot that all of this happened. His quiet contemplation was interrupted twice by his son, whom he sent out after the second time to check up on his mother. The third interruption was both unexpected, and unwelcome.

Another villager, a young lad around the age of 15, rushed to the door of the man's house. "Sir! I'm sorry for disturbing you, but there is a visitor in the town square that you must see! He just wandered into town an hour ago!" A large smile had taken control of the boy's face, his eyes bright. The man got up slowly from the wooden chair, which creaked with an awful moaning sound as he arose. "I shall be at the square soon, you go run along now." Kindly in his old age, he ruffled the hair of the teen, before giving him a gentle nudge that meant leave. To the town square the man walked, slow in his ever advancing age, but still nimble compared to the elders of the village. He reached the center of town quickly, and found to his amusement, practically the entire population. Nearly all of the townspeople were seated in a rough circle around the new stranger, a hooded man carrying a small, leather bound book, and speaking in a forceful, commanding tone. The literate man leaned against the pillar of the house, his relatively keen eyes observing the stranger with a mixture of wonder and distrust.

"And so I found myself alone in the desert, no water, no food." exclaims the newcomer, limping in a circle as to address all of those gathered around him. "In this desperate state, I succumb to a deep sleep, passing into a dream after I had fallen into one of the sand drifts. It was in this dream that Sha'zul came to me, and taught me the Seven Eminent Truths." The hooded man held up his staff, casting a small shadow over those in front of him. "I was given this staff, and the instructions to go and preach these truths to all that would listen, and so enlighten them. I have been cast out of village, beaten off by savage nations, and betrayed by my allies, but in the face of all of this, I have remained strong, because I know the Seven Truths. And the first is this! Men are good, and kindness to your fellow man will only result in kindness back. This is the first of eminent truths."

"But what does this teach us? In a town such as this, surely you take care of those who are in need? Surely you help your neighbor when his trade is floundering, when his livestock have been stolen, when his house burned? If so, you have realized too this Eminent Truth. Thy neighbor is thy strength, for with thy neighbor as thy ally, no being on this planet can break you. For without thy neighbor, one cannot function. It is this new code that we must live by if we are to achieve enlightenment." He concluded with a bow, and closed his book. The audience, some confused, a few offended, but most moved, applauded the orator. Even the literate man, still distrusting, found himself applauding this new addition to the town. The crowds parted as he walked off, away from the center, and towards a family who had beckoned for him. They held their baby before him, which he blessed in the name of Sha'zul.

And yet, thought the literate man, this same man would be going homeless and hungry tonight. There is something dreadfully wrong with the world when one who achieves enlightenment must sacrifice his body, stated the man's mind. Of course, there is always something wrong with the world.

Arthur had been in the Estold inn when the commotion started. The people left the inn in a hurry to see this new comer. To think that an a retired dragonslayers stories was not enough for them. He grumbled a bit taking in his drink of mead. He had just gotten to one of his favorite parts when someone came in to tellabout the strange man. HE imediately smelled something funny about it the moment the door was opened.

There was nothign to it except to see what it was all about. He finished his drink and threw a coin on the table and got and buckled on his two swords and hsi shield. HE never took off his armor anymore the only thing he did was take off the swords and the sheild. Still it was good to be cautious. HE stretched casually not reaching the cieling as he might have done in dragon form. He stepped out into the ligth and saw the crowd around the center of town. HE walked up and listened to the odd man speak. The man was indeed odd he had a strange gate, and an odd familar smell yet mixed with something.

Even though not in his dragon form his smell was ten times better than any dogs or wolves. THe man was obviosuly winning over the crowd but not Arthur he knew what this man said was lies. There was no Sha'zul or Seven Emminet Truths" Oddly though the name of the being did sound familar almost draconic. He was a servant of Life,Light, the Balance and Truth. HE would wait and then he would denounce the man. He could not stand people who put false truths forth, Lothlomendil put him on this world for such a purpose to serve truth.

When the crowd parted he noticed the man takign the child and blessing him and Arthru came forward and the coupel noticed him and he said," LEt me see the child". THey handed the child to him afraid, they did not know what he was, but they knew who he was. THat was enough for him. HE took it and spoke in draconic," Carok Denostillo, Arkanas Mistara, Lothkomen arin kava". THe childs demenor changed as he awoek and smiled and he said," Here is your child, mine was the real blessing, Lothlomendil will be its real protection". HE then turned to the priest and said," Be gone from here, the world does not need any more false prophets, my job is to make sure that Lifes true word is spoken so begone before I teach you Lifes first rule".

The preacher, rather than taking offense at the strangers interaction, smiled gently. "Now, my children, is an excellent time to teach you the second Eminent Truth." He decidedly ignored the threats of the warrior. "It is interesting," thought the Priest,"that he speaks like one of those fire-lizards. Yet, he has the appearance of a man. Perhaps, a cross-breed?" "The second of the Eminent Truths that Sha'zul revealed to me was this. In order to achieve true Enlightenment, one must keep their minds open. Let thy ideas flow like the great rivers of this world, intermixing in the great ocean of conciousness, for it is within these oceans that we discover our humanity." A few steps towards his spiritual opponent revealed his severe limp in the Priests leg.

"Ask yourselves, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, why is it that we suffer? Is it because of those that rule us?" A small mumur of agreement rose from the crowd, which the man quickly supressed with a gesture. "No! Those that lead us lead us with the grace of Sha'zul behind them. Sha'zul lends them a guiding hand, working forever towards the benefit of us! No, we suffer because we do not care enough for our fellow man! All men must contribute towards the common good, to work towards helping not themselves, but their fellow man!" There was a slight mumur in the town square, the working of the collective mind of that section of the town. It was the literate man, the one who had recieved the page from his diary, who started to clap first. What followed was at first the clapping of a select few, which in turn became the clapping of many, and soon after the clapping of all.

The newcomer raised his hand, motioning for silence among the proletariate. "Friends, I am myself poor and needy. I am fit not to be one who enlightens, but one who is enlightened. As you have seen, I am crippled, but, what you have not seen is that." Ending on that final word, he raised his hands to his hood, and removed it from atop his head, revealing a relatively clean white bandage covering his eyes. "You see, my friends, I am a blind. I am fit only to be a beggar, and yet Sha'zul has taken care of me, educated me, and now I have the privelage of teaching others to benefit from what I have learned!" His spiritual opponent was unable to intrude upon what was quickly becoming a monologue.

Large, white teeth were revealed to the public. "Excellent. I have their ears, and their eyes." thought the Preaching Man, "With these, I shall control their hearts, and after that I shall control their minds. The smile was obvious to the people surrounding him, but the intentions behind the smile and the reasoning for it were not. He was quick to disguise his motive, and removed a small pouch from his robe. Metal jangled inside. "Friends, Comrades, Brothers and Sisters. You have welcomed me with such warmth and kindness, the likes of which I have never before experienced. It fills my heart with great joy to know that I am enlightening such wonderful people. Please," he opened the bag, and removed a few of the coins, "Send forth your poor and your weak. Give me the starving children, give me your sick and the doctors who would treat them. Allow me to help them!" He waited, the benevolence radiating off him towards the crowd.

It was a boy, no more than fourteen, and a baby, wrapped in cloth and terribly skinny, who first approached him. Many of the town held their breath, still half-defensive towards the newcomer. But he did nothing, nothing except extend three gold pieces towards the children. "Here you are son. This will be enough to last you the month. And remeber, you will always carry the blessing of Sha'zul with you." The older child had tears in his eyes, while the baby was far to young to understand the significance of what was happening. As they walked off, they bowed politely and revenantly to the priest, who groped for the boys head. He ruffled the rascals hair, and sent him on his way, accompanied by the cheers of the crowd.

"Excellent. Now, let me see how my newfound friend reacts to my generosity. It is obvious that these people are suffering. It is always the proletariate who suffers. I have shown the kindness, and even a blind cripple understands that when you have shown those who suffer that you are like them, and that they can be like you, and then show them kindness, they will follow you to the end of this world, and off the edge, into oblivion. But will he graciously accept defeat, or will he pointlessly continue this? No matter. Their hearts are mine, and all within a few hours. People certainly are maleable."

[OOC: When in italics, they are thoughts, and therefore cannot be heard or read by your character without a mind reading spell.]

Selvanosilos was annoyed. A religious debate wasn't really his thing. The problem was, he wasn't sure who's side he was on. Normaly, it was easy enough to take the good side, but this was different. On one hand, you had a guy talking about some new god and some new enlightenment. Sure, there probably wasn't any god, but this guy had some good ideas about how to treat others. Also, unlike many people who were charlitens, and this guy had seemed at first to fit the part, he didn't denounce the government to gain control of an angry easy to manage rabble. He also didn't demand gold, but spoke of peace and equality, and gave away money to those in need. Selvanosilos walked up to the religois protestor, a person who proclaimed faith in life but wore armor of chaos, and put a hand on his shoulder. "I really don't see the problem. Sure, he seems to be a bit of a loon, what with a non-exxistant god and all, but he seems nice and harmless enough. Plus, what he's saying IS true, about government and how people need to work together. So it's not a real god, doesn't mean it can't be a good way of thinking." Selvanosilos paused for a second, scratching his armscales a bit as he colected his next few thoughts. "I have to admit the guy might be loony, but if he is, the rest of the world should try it for a while. Mightdo more good than all you cloth men yacking about serving some deity that sits on their but all day."

Will had lived in Estolad for his whole life and had been accustomed to the life style that had been bestowed upon him. He was hear to broaden his mind and spirit, to learn the ways of nature and to grasp a better understanding of what happened every day in front of his very nose.

Apparently a stranger had wandered into the small village and every one was rushing out to see this man. Will wandered out of the inn and made his way to the front of the crowd. This man was speaking of a being that Will had heard of, but only in a story tale. This man was telling false truths and was obviously winning the crowd over.

Will smiled as someone spoke up, it was another man who had left the inn to attend this man's speach. The priest only ignored him and continued on with his abnormal speach. The man spoke very intelligently and a spark of deviousnous struck obvious about this man.

He was a very kind man indeed but Will was a bit skeptical, this man had given gold to one of the poor families that lived among the other villagers. Will thought about the family he had at the moment, he lived with a young fifteen year old and a toddler not but 3 years old.

Will stepped fourth and stared at the man, he was blind but no matter. Will assumed that this man would know that Will was standing directly in front of the man. He heard a gasp from one of the villagers, as if he had commited a crime.

You speak wisely but I know your kind, this is but a lie. He said loudly so the whole town could hear him. I have heard of this Sha'Zul, in a story tale. A god that grants a boy wisdom through seven sayings, and nothing more. Will turned and beckoned for his son to come near. He took his son and held him close then spoke to everyone. I have lived here for all my life and know these people well. I have worked hard and cared for the people of this town and I say to you that you lie and you tell hokas pokas.

Will turned back towards the crowd. Do not listen to this man's lies, he will only bring you sorrow and pain. Will smiled as the crowd began to nod their agreement, he had won their trust from care and from life living among them. They would not trust this man over a fellow villagers who they have known since he was born and they too were born.

[OOC: For all future references, Sha'zul has not been heard of outside of my character until this topic. He's my creation, and is to be treated as such. Also, I beg of you, please. Many of the things you do are bordering on metagaming. If you do not have the feat that allows it, do not instantly know what he is doing or his intentions. And no, he is not a religious protester. Still, I will incorporate all of this into my post anyway, because I can.]

"It seems that there is a liar amongst the sheep." The blind man smiled. From the direction of the voice, he could tell that the man, for it was obviously a man, was standing in front of him. He gripped the man's shoulder, and smiled at him gently. Beneath the false smile, he gathered up his latent magical ability, and tapped into the mind of the man who had attempted to reveal him as a false priest. Terror filled the man, filling his mind with a mild fear, one not so great as to send him fleeing, but enough to make any man cower and shake. "Brother, it appears that you are frightened. My new ideas must make you uncomfortable. It is alright. I bring nothing but a message of peace and enlightenment. Allow me to bless you." He pressed his index and middle finger to the empty sockets where his eyes belonged, then to his heart, and finally to his forehead. He pressed the two fingers to the doubting man's forehead, and uttered a small, inaudible phrase. Beneath the act, he removed fear from the man's mind, allowing him once more to feel comfortable.

Turning from the one that he had just comforted, and yet at the same time caused discomfort to, he once more addressed the crowd. "Sha'zul is a god that goes by many names. In many ways, we all follow Sha'zul currently. But we are misguided. Sha'zul has spoken to me many times since the occurrence in the desert, and has revealed much of his wisdom to me. I am glad," he groped for the man next to him who had supported his points, "That there is one here who is as wise as myself. Sha'zul is a kind god. He wishes only that you follow devoutly his Seven Eminent Truths, and cares not for what name you worship. Open your hearts to him, and Sha'zul shall in turn show you kindness and bring nothing but joy into your lives. And your joy shall overflow, and then you too shall realize the Great Truth. Once you have realized the Great Truth, then you shall also become enlightened, and Sha'zul will commune directly with you. You will become wise, and through Sha'zul, all shall be provided for you." He finished his speech and, no longer wishing to be disturbed by the nonbelievers in the town, walked into the crowd, which parted obediently away from his presence.

"An excellent first day. It was actually quite fortunate that the second doubting man came up next to me. Now, in their eyes, the blessing holds a magical quality to comfort those in doubt, and to relieve fears. Interesting." He stopped abruptly, and, turning towards the villagers, bowed before speaking. "If you wish to speak to me, please look for a camp outside of town. I will be inside of the tent, which is surrounded by torches. Call out the name 'Dionysius', and I shall listen to whatever you have to say. "Now that I have at least some grip on them, it is time to establish myself within the village. Allow them to come to me, and soon I shall own each individual mind. How very interesting...."

((OOC: Speakign of which, I beleive I have an evil detector built into my charecter head. And he has magic combat experience. Ergo...))

Selvanosilos smirked. He hadn't actually lied. The guy 'seemed' cracked. But after listening to him for a bit, he'd revised his opinion, especialy after that 'blessing'. He'd seen enough fear spells in battle to recodnize a mild dose, even at that distance. He didn't know what the game was, but he had always had a nack for reading people. When the 'preist' staretd to leave, Selvanosilos made certain that he was close enough on the path to check something. A little focus, and a little glow of the eyes later, and he had his answer. It would be very interesting to visit the man's tent. Very interesting indeed. Selvanosilos couldn't help but let a grin escape across his face, as he thought of how mutch he could get out of a guy like this for his sillence. After all, magic doesn't lie. If it says he's evil, he's evil, and no amount of donated gold changes that.

Especialy, now that he thought on it, it was one small donation to one poor fammily in exchange for a lot of interest and loyalty from a whole villaige. This guy, whoever he was, was good. He'd even fooled Selvanosilos for a bit, which stung his pride a bit. Selvanosilos had to deal with people all the time with verbal contracts and always managed to avoid being fooled. He was usualy good at this sort of thing, so just how good did that make this man at lieing. Sure, you got a defensive preist and some learned guy making a protest, but nothing damning, just a diference of opinion.

Selvanosilos made up his mind. Dionysius huh? I'll wait till nightfall, then ask for hush money. A blind man can't do too mutch to defend himself against a solder with a dagger now can he? I can almost hear my money putch jingling with the new loot. And it doesn't matter if I don't expose him. The preist and the learned man will make sure he doesn't last long, so I'll strike while th iron's hot. Smirking, he went back to the bar. All this plannign made him thirsty.

Will gave a fake smile after the man had comforted the minor fear that had been bestowed upon him. Will bowed and turned away, a light stomp to his feet. Village meeting. He yelled across the town, making sure every single townsfolk could hear him.

Will smiled as everyone gathered into the church, which they also considered their town hall. Will walked up to one of the guards standing in front of the door. Whatever you do, do not let that man into this building. If you can... escort him out of town, do something to remove him from here.

Will walked into the quant chappel and looked around, everyone began taking seats and quietly chatted amongst each other. Will noticed a small podium where he had stood many times before, as one of the respected members of the village he was always talking about something at these meetings. Once again he would be talking about something of importance, this time possibly huge.

Will walked up and stood near the podium, waiting in the light of the stain glassed windows for everyone to quiet down. Welcome to the village meeting everyone, as you all know we have a visitor who believes in god that we have never heard of. As you also know I said that I heard of this character Sha'Zul... in a book, but that was a lie. Will frowned as he began to hear protest. But I have a feeling that this man has no good intentions, why should we believe in stuff that our gods expect from us. No offense to this priest but he does not have the right to come into our village and try to convert our religion. If you ask me its an invasion, an assault and an insult to come into our village and tell us these false lies. If you believe in this so called Sha'zul then you can leave right now and go with this man and forfeit your place here in the village. Will may have sounded harsh but he was only doing what was best for the village. Will smiled as the people began to cry and yell their loyalty to all the gods they believed in.

A tear came into Will's eye and he bowed his head and stepped down from his place. Everyone began clapping and smiled as Will passed by. Will saw a young boy and his family standing nearby towards the back, one of the poor families. He smiled and took a few of his hard earned coins and put it in the boys hands and closed his hands and smiled. Thank you for understanding. he wispered as the family began to cry for joy.

Selvanosilos saw a potential meal ticket burnign in his minds eye. But there was a chance or two left. Time to try option one. "So, conform to what you say or leave the villaige. Who died and made you king?" The comment cut the air like a knife, the cheering died as if it had been stabbed in teh ehart. "Are you sayign you decide what's right and what's not? You already lied to these people about having read about this God before in a children's book. Why should they believe you now? Do you have any proof that a man who comes into a village talking about peace and understanding and who gives money to the poor is evil? Are you calling a blind old cripple a threat that could wreck the village?" There was a lot of disquited muttering from a good number of patrons, coutnered by other muttersings, which were in turn countered. Arguments broke out,a bout hwo the man was harmless versus him being a corruptor, tradition versus change, kind acts versus the word of a man they'd know for years. The arguments raged backa nd forth, and it seemed liek a few woudl break out into fights.

Not a perminent solution, but as logn as I can keep the people arguing, he'll still have somebody I need to hush to with the money. I probbly souldn't wait though. Tiem to see that tent now rather than tonight, before this situation deteriorates more. Getting up quietly, Selvanosilos quietly sliped out the back, and headed for the tent outside of town.

Perched like a shadow in darkness, Sinitar had eyed the goings-on in the centre of the village with an air of slight amusement and a promising tinge of expectation. Although his robes were white, and his stature not at all unintimidating, the barn of the lumber mill offered enough of a refuge not to be seen by the townsfolk. Then again, the magehunter doubted that they would have noticed him even if he had been standing naked in the pale glare of the sunlight that reigned outside. Their eyes were fixated on the newcomer and those few that challenged the views he brought to disturb the tranquillity of their village. His lips curled into a smirk beneath his hood, where the gesture was covered by shade before it could breach into visibility. It was like watching angry farmers arguing about which of the cattle was theirs.

At the same time, he realized that the stakes were much higher than that - they always were, when it came to religion. In fact, that the proprietor of this lumber corporation, the most influential in Estolad, had invited him over to discuss business as soon as this stranger had begun preaching, was most unusual. Even in a backwater village such as this, his services were known to be quite expensive. That the man would be willing to invest such a sum told Sinitar that this priest of Sha'zul was of greater importance than he would have imagined, and though it had proved lethal to many of his predecessors, he could not help but be curious about the contract he would be offered.

He averted his gaze as the crowd began to disperse, but not before making a mental note of where the preacher could be found. He had a strong feeling that he would be needing that information later today. Clumps of people made their way in the wake of the young man that had called for a village gathering. Most were talking rather inspiredly, gesturing with wide arms and glittering eyes; an ignorant passion to follow this newest zeal as set forth by the newest trendsetter - a priest named Dionysius, today. He turned away from the scene as he heard the door behind him click, and he was beckoned inside by the sawmill master's obese hand.

The badly lit office smelled old and musty, and Sinitar rather doubted that this was where his contractor usually accommodated his less shady guests; he payed no heed to it. Estolad was known for its laidback culture, and criminals were few and far between. Assassins and spies were the stuff of stories, to be told when the woodland surrounding the village wasn't scary enough to keep the children in line. The thought that an inhabitant of the peaceful hamlet would pay for the services of one did not fit in the mindset of the easily impressed townsfolk. Especially when the contractor turned out to be good old Gene, the proprietor of the town's greatest sawmill, revered by many for his appetite and his apparently endless supply of amity.

At the moment, however, Gene seemed much less the benevolent businessman; his presence was more like a pale, overinflated scarecrow. Sinitar could nearly feel the fear oozing out of the man. It was quite obvious that he had never asked for services of this kind before; he tried hard to repress a grin, but failed, and he silently thanked his hood for concealing his amusement. Moments of silence passed between them. As if wishing to be over with the deal as quickly as possible, Gene grabbed into a pocket of his oversized overcoat and retrieved a sizeable pouch filled with gold pieces, fumbling it onto the desk in front of him - the only piece of furniture present in the small chamber - and Sinitar had to hide his surprise. That was a lot of money, even for his standards.

"You have my ear," he said coldly as he reached out with one of his crimson gloves, letting his fingers run along the edges of coins through the thin fabric that held them together.

"It's that Sha'zul fellow..." Gene's voice was hasty, but quickly trailed away, as though he were looking for the right words to describe what he wished in exchange for this gratuitous sum.

"Want him dead?" Sinitar gruffly assisted, but contrary to his expectations, Gene turned pale at the mere mention of murder, and his thick fingers sweeped the bag of money out of the mercenary's reach. Even in the sparse light that the room's single window offered, Sinitar could see the man shiver with indignation. So naive... he could not help but think in the seconds of silence that followed.

"No! No, no!" Gene shook his head so vigorously that the magehunter expected it to make a full spin, but then he seemed to regain his composure. His voice decreased in volume as he divulged the nature of his plan, reaping bewilderment from Sinitar's side the more he told: "No, I wish you to..."



Investigate?

The word left a sour trail of query lingering in his mind as he trudged through the duskfallen streets. The number of people still outside had considerably thinned out since earlier this afternoon. Most of them kept out of his business, or at least pretended to do so, causing his jaunt over to Dionysus's tent to be rather uneventful. Still, it gave him the time to think about Gene's strange request. He could understand that the man was too soft-hearted to be involved in murder or the like, but to pay such a superfluous amount of gold simply to acquire some insights into the emissary's motives unnerved him, particularly because he wasn't the most eloquent or persuasive when it came to debate - unless debating involved a silent knife in the dark, or extracting valuable information through torture.

Which left him with the second, even more puzzling condition that his fearful contractor had made all too clear: there was to be no violence. Honestly, he knew these Estoladians were a peaceful folk, but this fear of causing hurt even when it came to potential threats such as this priest was driving him to the edge of edginess. Although he'd never much liked the wilds, he felt a little bit relieved as he exited through the weak palissade that the lumberjacks called 'protection'. The sky above the treetops gleamed with gold and orange; the sun was only half visible above the canopies. Even in the shimmer of twilight, it was easy to make out the familiar flicker of torchlight in the distance. Sinitar remembered the priest's words. A camp surrounded by torches. With a sigh, he strolled in its direction at a leisurely pace.

All things considered, this is a pretty easy way to be making money, he thought as the sounds of village activity faded behind him, and the tranquil chirps and chatters of the woods became more prominent. It took longer than expected; by the time that the torchlight of the mysterious preacher's camp washed over his cloaked contours, his mind had already rejected many a premise as to why the head lumberjack would be so interested in this emissary's motives. In Estolad's relative terms, he could of course be called a powerful man - and Sinitar had long since learned that those with power would fight to the last to retain it. Now, as he stood in front of the rather unassuming tent, the light within clearly visible through the canvas, he put the matter to rest with the rather shallow conclusion that Gene, too, was afraid of a zealous revolution in the name of this Sha'zul. Foolish, of course. Estolad's villagers were far too docile and neighbor-loving to commit any such coupe.

When he discerned no movement within the tent, he supposed that his arrival had gone unnoticed, and as such he heaved his voice slowly to the ever-darkening twilight. "Dionysius!" It was all the priest had requested, and he would get no less or more than that.

(( OOC: I give Nani permission to bunny my character entering the tent, getting settled, the usual stuff that would suck if left to time inconsistencies. I'd like control back when the important dialogue (i.e., debate concerning the priest's motives) starts, though. ))

Selvanosilos pressed himself even tighter against the great oak he hid behind. He was sweating, and tryign hard to control his breath. Sinitar Moorcrest, here? This was not something Selvanosilos had expected. This guy was a major league hunter, well out of Selvanosilos's own class. If Sinitar was here after the priest, then there wasn't anything he could do. Still, it couldn't hurt to stick around. Leaning in a bit closer, here heard the famed magehunet say a single word. "Dionysius!" Selvanosilos almost let out a gasp of surprise. He then collected himself in tiem to stifle such a foolish idea. Sinitar was no convert. If he was after the old man......well, maybe he could loot the remains before the authorities arrived. There were always oportunities available to those that knew how to look.

[OOC: Well, tried to edit it earlier today, but my internet gave out and I lost my post....I am t3h pissed at my internet now, but hey! Whatever!]

It was a quiet night for the preacher. Silence had fallen as the dark curtain of night weighed upon the eyelids of the town. Dionysius was bent over his desk, his bandage removed as he scribbled words into his journal. He was not always a blind man. His eyes had been lost during his time in the desert, but he had learned to read and write long before that. A smile cracked across his otherwise hard face; reading was worthless to him now. "Dionysius!" came a voice from outside his tent, interrupting his current task of recording both the events from the day and more of the seven eminent truths.

Before he responded, Dionysius began to wonder what the visitor was doing near his abode. "Have they come to spy on me? Perhaps I should hide my journal?" speculated the priest. He left the journal on his desk, however, after recalling that the only thing in it was a collection of very dry descriptions of events. He turned around in his stool, and called out in the general direction of the door. "Enter, brother!" he exclaimed. His voice rang through the camp like a deep bell, but the echoes did not carry far into the town. The houses, relatively concentrated, did not prove beneficial to sound waves and so provided a natural barrier for echoes. All for the best, as the sounds of nature were louder than most of the villagers imagined, and often terrifying.

The man, one that Dionysius had not heard from at all during his sermon, entered very quickly. He sat in a second wooden stool by the opening flap of the tent, which creaked, alerting Dionysius of his presence. It was the priest who spoke first. "What is it that you require tonight brother?" inquired the blind man.

(That is what we call spam but I won't tell.)

Arthur watched the ongoings quietly he needed to think he was angery and he could not think straught when angery. THe reason for his anger was this false prophet he disliekd them with the utmost intensity. They spoek words to bring hope but when the went what they promised to their listeners never came. He made sure they never got the chance he had seen them at work he kenw what the ycould do. THese fools were falling victim to lifes first rule and they didn't know it. HE couldn't make them see it. HE had the wit and the wisdom but maybe not the ability to get them to listen. HE then said," Maybe we should let him speak his words of what he thinks is wisdom, there can not be much harm in it, then we wil let Lothomendils will be done".

(Sorry so short but Im real busy)

He was rather surprised by the furnishing inside the priest's shelter. For someone who profferred the pretense of being an emissary who travels far and wide, the tent's furnishing was remarkably permanent. True, the chair legs supporting his weight shrieked scornfully every time he shifted his weight around, but still, it was not something he would expect a weathered traveller to carry around the countryside. Maybe the man had journeyed here in the company of a caravan? Or had some of Estolad's residents already seen fit to supply the blind cripple with some basic movables? Most likely the latter; combined with the skilled tongue of a handicapped orator, Sha'zul's alleged 'love thy neighbor' law had probably proven quite effective in bargaining for such goods.

As was in his nature, the magehunter attempted to infer how fast he could exit the tent in case of unexpected violence before anything else. Experience had taught him the habit, and though he was not counting on a confrontation, it had saved him often enough never to skip it. Only then did he lay eyes upon the strange priest, who had turned around in his stool. Judging from the half-written parchment on the desk behind the man, Sinitar had interrupted whatever he had been jotting down, but unfortunately, he was sitting too far away to make anything useful of it. Hiding disappointment, he returned the man's soothing greeting with a barely noticeable nod, taking his time to observe what he had not been able to discern from the safety of the lumber mill's barn. His eyes immediately fell upon the deformation of the priest's right hand. Seems like he hasn't been lying about going through hardships...

"Require?" he responded curiously, weighing the word at the tip of his tongue. "I require naught that you could provide me with," he completed the answer. He was not here to feast on the zealot's purported generosity. "The reason I am here is simple curiosity. A battered priest steps into a backwater lumber village to bring word of a new god. Why?" He let the question hover between them before elaborating. "I mean, why convert a bunch of illiterate lumberjacks and farmers? It would seem to me that convincing the higher echelons of society would be far more beneficial to the spread of Sha'zul's worship, and yet, in Lómëdor, in Ondolond - never have I heard mention of the truths you preach."

That was true; indeed, had he not carefully listened to some of the passersby after the crippled emissary's speech, he probably would have pronounced the name of his proposed deity wrongly just now. Little that he knew of Arda's geography, Sinitar was certain that Estolad was not the first sign of civilization after the Anfauglir, and most definitely not the biggest fish to catch in the net of a new religion. His mind raced through the words he had spoken. It was a fine question; the truth would tell him just as much as an evasive answer. After all, if the priest had reasons not to be seen publicly in larger cities, that would do much to darken his motives in Sinitar's eyes. He moved his weight forward, placing his elbows on his knees, as though he were truly interested in the priest's words, making a mental note that if the preacher had somehow heard of him, he could be expecting a lot of lies.

"Odd. It's very rare that people enter my tent asking me what my motives are, unless they have some sort of weapon at my throat." came the bemused thoughts of Dionysius. It was rare that people came to the priest for anything except for money or advice, and on the occasions that they came for other, less benevolent reasons, they were usually threatening him. So far, in fact, none had actually come to inquire about his motives. The blind man cleared his throat, and groped around for a flask. "My apologies, I believe that I left it somewhere around here." stated the monotone voice, the apology, or lack thereof, heavy in his speech. His hands felt about until he had found his true target; the face of his new visitor.

The sensitive nerves within his skin compensated for his site. It was obvious that the man was not comfortable with a deformed, blind man feeling up his face, but Dionysius was quick in his examination. The flask was, in fact, under the stool, placed there incase the priest needed an excuse to identify a villager. He removed it from it's resting place, and placed it next to him on the table. He chuckled ever so slightly. "I don't need a drink anymore." he stated in a voice that was possibly even more monotone than before. "Now then," he began, "This town is important because of what it is. Many preachers go directly to the center of the country, for the reasons that you stated. But that is only a place to go if you are to become a fad. What I am working for here is establishment. The country does not change as fast as the city. It's much better for the spread of Sha'zul's message."