Chronicles of the Brotherhood: Genesis

Act III: Trading Wings for Fangs

 The cold night was quiet and for the most part still. All of the shadows cast by the moon were well defined and dark enough to hide almost all brightness from view. Shadows moved through the streets of the small fishing town set on the River Sacra that ran through the western kingdom of Mundara. An average sized town, shutting down after another long day. Going dark except for the lanterns and lamps posted on the streets.

Stretching from the quiet town were low rolling hills perched on which were various crops and wooded area for game. The roads coming from all directions were dirt and worn down to a fine powder. Grains and forage waved in the light wind. The fog from the river began to roll over the terrain, covering no higher than the knee of an average person.

Across the dirt road strode a cloaked figure, a hood shrouding his face. Silver hair fell through the mouth of the hood in long, unkept strands that caught the moon light. His cloak was tinted black and hid his body in almost completely. The brisk pace of his stride parted the fog gently, only to close up quickly behind him.. Large black boots protruded from the hem with every step he took.

The figure entered the town. So as to not attract attention, he kept pace, searching for a stopping place that he could disappear. When his eyes fell upon a small cathedral in the center of town, his destination was clear.. Hesitantly he strode into the town square, making for the doors. The figure paused to look up at the gallows that stood just off center of the town square.

Three bodies, choked to death by the ropes tied around their necks hung there. Blood seeped from their pale lips. Their bodies were defiled and badly branded with signs of torture. A sign hung from the ledge of the gallows reading: "Beware ye who defy the House of Narsik."

The cloaked figure chuckled at the sign, then looked back up to the bodies. His blue eyes glinted in the dim street lights. He fell to his knees and folded his hands in prayer. He recited a prayer for each of the deceased. His eyes fell open and drifted around the square, realizing this may draw unwanted attention. He stood and walked to the large wooden doors of the cathedral. As he passed the bodies he glanced once more at them and saw something that intrigued him. The bodies all had two puncture wounds on their necks

The cloaked figure shuddered at the thought and came to the doors. He knocked twice, then stepped back and waited for a moment. There came no answer. He knocked again and the door was immediately opened by a young girl, dressed in simple robes of the clergy; a red and white, high collared robe with a hood that slumped over her head. A rope was tied around her waist fastening the trappings to her waist. Around her neck she wore a ruby amulet, dangling rom a long silver chain.

"Yes, sir?" she asked quietly, holding up a lantern to illuminate his face. "How may we be of service to you?"

"My name is Seganeous Arillius," the figure spoke in a hushed voice. "I have been traveling for weeks and I was searching for asylum for the night."

"I'm sorry Mr. Seganeous Arillius," the priest girl began, "I am not allowed to accept pilgrims at this hour."

"Who is at the door of our parish, Genevieve?" came a womanly voice.

The girl, Genevieve, quickly spun around letting the door open even further and gave a low bow holding there as a woman stepped into the light. Seganeous lowed his gaze to show a breath of humility.

"A pilgrim, madam," Genevieve replied still bent. "But I informed him that I was not allowed to accept him into the confines of the parish after dark."

The woman gazed at Seganeous with dark eyes hidden barely behind a veil. She was dressed otherwise in a fitted gown that reached down to her feet, elegantly ornamented with golden threads on top or the base red. Her cowl was of a similar style only gold with red thread work. She wore the same medallion as Genevieve with the addition of a sash of hanging trinkets across her hip.