The following meeting takes place on Sunday afternoon, on the 15th in this first month of our year.

The entreaties had been sent, the conscripts had been gathered. The afternoon was crisp, but sunny. And as the rays of the day came streaming into the room, splintered by the window panes, Isuelt turned to look at those who where present: all of her Sisters and closest and most trusted allies of the Scathachians. A few of the volunteers from the Temple's hospice back when the Rhydin Bengu Fever had been a threat, were present to see to any refreshment needs that their guests needed before those care givers retreated for the formal meeting. The last of the volunteers, an older nurse who had seen the childhoods of several of Rhydin's more elite members in her days as a governess, turned to nod to Isuelt as she shut the double arched doors to the vast meeting hall of the Sanctuary.

"First off, I would like to give all of you my eternal thanks for your presence this afternoon," the tall brunette said with a clear voice as the doors closed upon the private congregation. "Each of you are ready to give of yourselves for this fair city and its citizens. And it is because of actions like yours that Rhydin, while it has its challenges and crises, is a city that is inhabited by good people. Men, women, children that rely on your virtue and integrity." From the time Isuelt had been writing the letters of invite to this parlay, she had been mulling over her words. What she would say, how she would ask. Her long legs took a few slow steps to her left, she had been standing since the arrivals began. And while there were standers and sitters, Isuelt's nerves had her moving constantly. To be sure, their had been no shortage of catastrophes as of late. Renna, Ravenlock, the murdered children in the Old Temple District, as well as the every day crimes of a city of this size. But this, this was something different. And this was something that was aimed prejudicially at the Scathachians. "It is because of both your reputations within our community, as well as your close proximity to the Scathachian Nation that we...my Sisters and I, and indeed our esteemed High Priestess back home...we...we implore you." Before she could continue, she took a breath. Isuelt had never been used to asking for aid, she was usually the one dispensing it. "We...we are in need of your assistance."

Her espresso gaze took a moment to look over their faces. What she had said was true. She would trust her own life to the hands of every person gathered here, without hesitation and without reservation. Isuelt's smooth inhale drew in a breath that lifted her shoulders and let her continue, "Our great and our oldest enemy, Temple Bhaal, as reared its head once more. The Scathachian Sisterhood is not only under attack here in Rhydin, but it seems that they have been festering among and around us for some time. What they have done, is..." Her words were swallowed before they were uttered. The warrior pressed herself to continue, "They have been victorious in doing the unthinkable. And we need your help."

Isuelt's teeth gripped her tongue, she wanted to see their reactions before she continued. She wanted to read their expressions and hear their words before she offered any more.

The speedster stood with his back to a wall, one arm crossed across his chest. He had pulled his mask up, exposing a stubbled jaw, to make conversation a bit easier and, more importantly, to let him sip from the cup of coffee he held in his other hand. He was still as he listened to Isuelt's introduction to the matter at hand, then shifted his weight as his eyes - one notably paler than the other under his tinted lenses, though that could have been a trick of the light - moved to Ebon while the man spoke.

He nodded in agreement with Ebon's words and turned his attention back to Isuelt, expression somber. "You know you just have to ask." His tone was more casual than was typical when he wore the mask, likely due to the company. "What do you need?"

Perceval had spent most of his day prior to the meeting walking the grounds of the Temple. It was a habitual thing for him; to get to know the land where he'd make his home, albeit temporarily. He became familiar with the Temple itself, at least the portions he could access, as well as the surrounding grounds and the perimeter. While outside, he couldn't help but admire how well the landscape was maintained. Every shrub and tree was pruned, flower beds where tidy and free of weeds; besides, ornamental trees were his forte. He appreciated the sisters" attention to detail.

The other overwhelming sensation he had as he wandered the Temple and its surrounding acreage was a feeling of serenity. The Sisters were kind and soft spoken when exchanging pleasantries with him. There were no raised voices to be heard. (with the exception of some of the more boisterous Sisters during their practice sessions.) Words were always passed with a gentle tone. The Temple was neat and orderly; everything you would expect from a Temple. This one, however, was different. Perceval couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He had arrived early to the meeting. Percy had taken up a location near the main doors where he could observe the comings and goings of those involved. He was also anxious to hear more about the situation at hand and why the Sisters had felt it to be as desperate as it seemed. He had heard scuttlebutt here and there among the women as he walked the grounds, but nothing concrete.

When the meeting began, Perceval listened to Isuelt's words. It was no wonder she was one of the more prominent women of the Order. She spoke eloquently; Motivational and emotional. A true leader. She sounded much like she had when she spoke to him at his farm. Perceval decided she was quite good at inspirational speeches. Very persuasive"much to his chagrin.

When Isuelt paused, he listened to the others in the room. As expected, they all had offered their devoted assistance. When her eyes finally fell upon him, Percy chose not to speak. Sometimes words were unnecessary, and this, he felt was one of those times. Isuelt received an approving nod. No more. She didn't need it. She already knew.

It was a sobering experience to hear one such as Issy ask for aid from others. While he knew her tendancy to stand as a mountain for friends and allies alike, the Mogul recognized the importance of this moment. In the brief period if their growing friendship he had seen her struggle against inner and outter demons, even assisted in combatting them. For it all to culminate to this extent made him worry, just a little.

As Ebon, Red, and Belial voiced their support his keen gaze moved from person to person. He recognized most from both personal interaction and reputation. His scan didn't judge or hold any preconcieved notions on the roles they all would play. He took each at their surface value. Those he hadn't worked with before would prove their themselves as allies in this through their actions and that was always good enough in his way of thinking.

Despite the portents of Renna's condition, seeing her incercerated gave him a temporary relief towards the path the whole city was creeping down. Now came an enemy just as dark as the Betrayer, if not of a darker shade. He'd told Issy once before she didn't have to ask things of him. They'd fought, trained, and laughed together. As far as the Mogul was concerned, the Scathach Priestess was family.

She had been late of course, but hatchlings and her own well being had come first.

Soon the dragoness was gliding towards the sanctuary. Soaring above the clouds so it was least likely she'd be seen.

Back winging as soon as the building came into view...a study from above told her that it was indeed quiet so far, and she had not been followed.

Circling once, she landed in the courtyard, and carefully nudged her way inside. Nodding to those who were already there.

You have my assistance.

Daniel had slipped in just before the meeting started. Sent by his father (who was unable to come to the meeting himself due to the location), he settled at the back, arms folding as he listened to Issy's beginning words. As he did so his gaze flitted about those gathered.

There were some he knew, if by reputation only. The one's that were unfamiliar he paid a bit more attention to, so he would be able to describe them later to his father. At last he looked back up front just as Issy finished her small speech, and nodded slightly at the weight of her request.

He remained silent as the others began to speak in turn giving their support to the Sisterhood. it should be easy enough for Issy to see that she and her order did have friends. However, in this he had no authority to say yea or nay for the family, though he personally would help against this Bhaal.

He stood near the back wall of the Sanctuary meeting hall with one hand in his pocket. A furrow was firmly etched on his brow, lips pressed to a thin line beneath the beard, fixing a sober expression upon the barrister's features. Ice blues moved over those gathered, over faces familiar and new to the man. When the message from the Judge arrived, he had been at the townhouse packing up a few things to take to the manor. As he stood in his office, vague memories of that fateful, stormy evening had rushed back, threatening to take his legs out from beneath him, filling his vision with a blinding red and his hearing with an incessant humming. It had nearly made him hurl.

Lucien drew a deep breath to stay those memories and nodded to the Judge when she spoke. Finger tapped unseen in his pocket as his attention turned to the Scathachian who Issy introduced.

Valkyrie flushed. Her lips parted to say something, but nothing came out as eyes settled on Chi. For a few moments she studied the woman before shaking her head and proceeding.

"A year ago' well, a little over a year ago' I was entrusted with a mission of grave importance." She fidgeted, her hands closing into fists before flexing and stretching open. So many strangers, she wasn't sure why she was doing this, but Issy had faith in them, so must she.

"The Den was attacked by demons of Bhaal around the same time a storm raged here. In many ways we think they were connected." At least she thought they were. "As the storm raged over the Den our numbers were forced deeper and deeper within its chambers by ghouls and countless undead. Even Bhaal." Eyes flickered to Issy, the only one who knew the truth of that night. "The Den was destroyed that night and only a hand full of Scathachain Warriors survived to escape, one mission weighing down their shoulders."

Valkyrie turned her gaze over each face among them before swallowing painfully. That news would come as shock to her sisters now that it was common knowledge. "The Goddess was weakened by the battle and forced to take a human host, yet after each passing day the host grew weaker, despite our haste with the mission." She frowned. "The human host died, my friend Neetha gave her life for the goddess, and the goddess took a stronger host. For a year I traveled throughout the lands of the ancients in search of Relics, for they alone can restore our Goddess to her corporeal state." With the mention of relics her dark eyes settled on Lucian, recalling him mention he collected them.

"It will also save the life of the host who carries her." Perhaps that was too much information, but it was out. Valkyrie paused to let it sink in before continuing. "I have gathered ten of sixteen relics, and lost one to the forces of Bhaal upon my arrival in this city. The rest are hidden in the mountains, but will not remain so. They must be reacquired safely and brought to the temple along with the remaining seven. I know three are hidden among Rhy'din, but I have no worldly idea where to begin my search. One is in the confines of Bhaal's temple, possibly being misused as we speak. The other three are on the Isle of Shadow, which is no longer safe. I have heard word that there are Bhaal insiders searching for the temple on the Isle for the three, it is only a matter of time before they find them and destroy the temple." She shook her head at the thought.

"This is a dangerous mission, I am aware of that. Asking you for help isn't something I consider doing lightly. It is the faith of Isuelt that has brought me to do so. She trusts all that are in this room very deeply and so I must place my trust in you as well." She swallowed. "In my travels I have encountered thieves and Bhaalites that have sworn allegiance to the Goddess, yet all have murdered my companions for the treasures we sought. I left the Den with ten talented Sisters. None survived where I had." Painful as the memories were, she endured and closed herself off to the joys life had given her. "I do not ask you to risk your lives and if you do not feel that you can do so in this task, I thank you for your time to hear my and my sister's call."

As Valkyrie finished, Isuelt rendered a slight nod of her dark head. This was the information that those who had been implored to gather here needed to hear. And, while Isuelt knew that there was more information that would need to be flushed out, she was proud of Valkyrie's summation of the outlined facts.

The masculine throat clearing snagged the Judge's attention from her Sister. Her espresso gaze ardently fell upon Perceval. For a brief moment, the shadow of a smile rested against her features. Isuelt observed him in the same manner she always did: with a marked notation of admiration. Of course he would present these questions. He was the superlative soldier, the consummate commander.

The answers he was seeking, however, were not entirely Isuelt's to give. Her strong shoulders rose and fell silently with a deep breath as those dark lashes transferred her eyes temporarily to the floor. The experience and wisdom in her gaze soon lifted and was offered to Valkyrie. With a slight arch of her shaped brows, she conveyed the notion of "It's your call" to her Sister.

Though, truth be told, these very same questions had been nagging at her logic and faith since she had spoken privately with Valkyrie not long ago. She was curious what her Sister would let be known by figures outside of their creed.

Perceval's questions forced a knot to tighten in her gut. Dark walnut eyes studied the man's face before she regarded her sister Isuelt. The gesture between them, the moment when trust was placed in her hands was here. She swallowed, trying to force the doubt, which a year had shaped, down. It was Isuelt's faith that gave her faith, she did not consider it lightly, however.

Finally, lips parted after a deep breath, "I am." Her eyes locked on Perceval's face. Fingers fumbled on her linen shirt while she pondered how this news would affect the sisterhood. Her mind scrambled to form the words, but nothing came except repetition, as though someone else was telling her what to say.

"Without the relics the goddess" state is unpredictable. As long as the host is strong of mind and will survival nothing to worry about. However, each time the host uses strength from the goddess, the host must surrender some of her strength." She paused, her brows furrowing to listen to silence. "I've used the goddess" power twice since I became her host almost a year ago. I was lucky to have been warned about doing so, Nee wasn't."

However," Val continued," Considering that I have used her strength and hoping that I don't use it in the future, we have until she is weakest to accomplish our goal. It is when she is weakest, that she will draw strength from me." In essence sucking her dry.

"With the relics, all of them, the host is no longer needed to maintain her stability. She would be able to restore her natural form and do as she pleases without her host's aid." She left out certain parts, parts which she had yet come to terms with. Valkyrie studied each face, looking for doubt or deterrence. "Without them, when the host is dying she will seek out a new host and the cycle will restart.?

Through it all, the Mogul had remained silent and still as stone to let the scene play out. With Issy's final question he got to his feet and rolled his shoulders to losen up a bit from sitting for that length of time. He cast a look about the others. "You've answered the what and why. All that remains now I think...is the where and how. As in where do we find these relics, and how do we go about getting to them before these Bhaalites. You can count me in for this treasure hunt, just hope I have an appropriate hat."

Putting hands into the middle of his back to stretch his attention went back to Issy and Valkyrie. "There's also the who. Who will go to which location, or are we just going from one relic to the other as a large caravan?"

A large caravan would draw much too much attention, wouldn't you think" Echoing the Flash's sentiment. Horned head canting. She had been listening intently.

As for decoys...There may have been a bit of a smirk upon the dragoness's snout. I could perhaps be of use, yes"

He met the dark gaze of the Scathachian when she looked his way, his expression remaining in its sober set. That he collected relics, scrolls, and artifacts alike was not a well known fact, but not one that was hidden. The extent of his collection, why he collected them"and where he kept his collection'that was entirely another story.

Lucien's thoughts slipped back to the night of the storm once more, thinly pressed lips turning down further beneath the man's beard. Finger continued to tap unseen in his pocket and his attention moved from the Sisters to Tucker when he heard the man voice his queries. Ice blue gaze moved over the faces of those gathered to the Sisters' aid, then returned to Issy. Attention snapped to Valkyrie at her admission to Tucker's query. There was a flicker along his jaw and his tapping finger stilled in his pocket. His gaze ticked over to Arts before returning to the Sister.

Lips remained pressed to a thin line as the Barrister remained silent, listening to the discussions and exchanges. There was little other emotion, little other thought his expression betrayed. Nevertheless, beneath the stoic facade, his mind was racing about in several directions. He finally let out a deep breath and he turned his attention back to the Scathachians. "What do the relics look like?" he queried, breaking his silence. "What are we looking for?"

Goddess-damned Bhaalites! Cray hated those twisted bastards with every fiber of her colossal form. She utterly loathed them in fact. As she sat tall near her sister Valkyire, Cray listened intently to all of the details as these talks unfolded and more information came to light.

This was the most eclectic meeting Cray had ever attended in her twenty five years. No doubt on that. So be it, she thought, desperate times and such. But just what had she learned thus far" Well, Val...little Val...was a chosen consecrated host of their revered goddess. The Sisterhood's most holy relics, thought even by some of her own kin to be nothing more than guarded myths, were now the subject of discussion amongst believers and non-Scathachians alike. And once again, the depraved disciples of that horned-headed demon bastard who had violently claimed members of both of her families...Bhaal...were back for vengeance.

This was getting more mountainous by the minute, and big Cray quite frankly wanted to snap some well deserving necks. So many back-biting snakes and immoral killers lurking about in this city. Judgment must be doled out; it was inevitable.

This was a solid group of allies here, yes. Issy trusted them after all, so that was more than enough for her. She did want to find out more about those gathered here, however, just to ensure that was no "conflict of interest" between the ultimate end game and other's personal ventures. Afterall, nothing was too far fetched when dealing with the forces of the god of murder and deceit.

While her chiseled facial expression may have betrayed that sentiment, Cray knew there was enough time to figure that "minor detail" out later when it was just her and her Sisters gathered for prayer. For now, the holy relics of the Island of Shadow must be safeguarded against the groping, deceitful hands which were stained with blood and the warlords of darkness who would corrupt the items" righteous enchantments for their own abominable ends. It was bad enough that the mighty ?Gavel of Scathach' was brashly stolen in the Red Dragon Inn by that pack of homicidal wolves so arrogantly emblazoned with Bhaal's ram skull.

No more of their precious relics would fall to these baneful creatures and the immoral humans who served them. No more...not again.

Cray clenched her thick fist as Lucien spoke; quickly glancing at Issy, Mirage, Chi, and then Valkyrie. Her pale green eyes finally settled on the mantle as she quietly exhaled. During this time Cray gathered her racing thoughts, attempting to subside the swelling anger within. That same anger which so often guided the Scathachian's intense mindset during warfare's horrific and majestic drama.

As her gaze shifted from Valkyrie to Perceval and then to Lucien, she paused, her eyes on the barrister. She knew well of his love of antiques. Lucien, perhaps more than any other person gathered (save for some of the Scathachians) might know of the tales of Scathachian mythology. Isuelt's strong shoulders lifted as she inhaled and stood up. Again, her eyes roamed the room, over every person gathered: men and women alike. These were her Sisters. These were her friends. This was her family.

"There are many pieces of our Goddess's story that have found their way into our world. These pieces of Scathach's great tale are the relics of our faith." Isuelt knew that these stories were told to young women as they wound their way through their training; their physical skills and their spiritual skills were interwoven. As the Island of Shadow and its trainers and priestesses worked together to turn out Scathachians, these stories were taken by most initiates to be myth and nothing more.

However, now that Isuelt was older, she found it nearly ludicrous that the ground beneath her faithful feet was being shaken. Not only were the myths real, but the pieces of these myths were tangible and some of them were here in and about Rhydin and its surrounding areas. "There was a time long ago when our Patroness walked the world, when her trials were real. There are pieces of her left behind, before she assumed her position in the heavens. Of these pieces, all Scathachians are told as if they were bedtime tales for children, her twin blades, her bow, and her chakram are the most recognizable, as we carry these with us today. However, there are other items which also possess her powers. The first of which is her gavel. The Hammer of Scathach." Isuelt's eyes flickered to Valkyrie for a moment, "This, of course, is the relic that has recently been stolen by the Temple of Bhaal's minions. We must get this great weapon back.

"Most of the other relics are in their rightful place: on the Island of Shadow, as far as we know: A chalice that brings healing and long life, the garnet jewel that bestows wisdom, the shroud that possesses healing powers for the wounds it may bind, the mirror that divines future visions, the cauldron that issues strength and courage, the conch shell that binds our existence to our island home and calls for divine protection, the anvil of Scathach, which all of our weapons have been forged upon.

"However, in addition to the Hammer of Scathach, there are some relics that are not on the Island. A locket containing a strand of Scathach's hair, as well as the holy armor which guards its wearer with divine defense," Isuelt's eyes once more found Valkyrie, who was wearing both of these items. Her long legs moved as she began to pace. "There are three other relics that are unaccounted for. These are the Quiver of Scathach, which every arrow within shall always hit its mark. An Icon of Scathach, a small statue that was carried from village to village in the early days of our faith and practice. And a compass." Upon this relic, she paused. The panic welling within her illuminated her expression for an instant. "This compass will show the location of the Island of Shadow, no matter the hand that holds it.

"This is the one relic that cannot...cannot...fall into the hands of Temple Bhaal. If they should learn the location of our Island, we can be sure that an all out war will be headed to our beloved shores. The other relics: the quiver, the icon and the hammer must also be recovered, lest they be used against us.

"I agree that we should not set out en masse for these items, it will call attention to our purpose and our location. There are agents of Temple Bhaal here, and they are watching. As we are able to discern the exact locations of the items, smaller groups will go in to secure them. There is also an additional item that we know of right now. It does not belong to our temple, but to the god of murder: the Horn of Bhaal. This is reputed to be his horn, struck by Scathach in their heavenly battle. It fell to earth and has been searched for ever since." Her eyes fell over the room and settled on Lucien, "As near as we can tell, the Scathachian relics are accounted for in number, but it is the Bhaalite relics that intrigue us. It is very possible that there are other evil relics that are out there; those that we do not know of. We will require your expertise in these matters, Lucien."

With that, her hands fell softly on the back of Lucien's chair and her dark gaze rose to meet the many sets of eyes that watched her. "Together, we would be able to secure these holy items and carry out the ceremony that will restore our blessed Patroness to her rightful place in the heavens. And save our Sister." An ardent nod was offered to Valkyrie.

The allies of Scathach had answered her call. Isuelt lowered her gaze and for a moment looked as if time had paused. With her thick lashes shut and her chin nearly to her chest, the brunette took a moment from the course of sands feeling as if they were winding down to give a silent prayer of gratitude and ask for illumination. After a moment, she opened her eyes and lifted her gaze about the room; Isuelt's focus paused on each and every member gathered here. With a deep, slow breath, the divisions had come to her.

"Valkyrie, you will head up the group going after the icon." For the others gathered, she submitted a brief description of the relic, "The small icon, a wooden statue of Scathach, is said to be among the first carvings of her likeness. It was carried with the first of her followers before recorded history and has survived wars and natural destruction alike. The wood is said to be Crythiloris, which is found nowhere on this earth any longer. The icon is part of who we are, just as Scathach herself is." She licked her lips and continued, "Take with you Daniel DeAuster, Lucien Mallorek and our Sister Athena."

"Mirage," Isuelt looked to the hardened-jawed Sister who was her other second, "You will take up the charge of recovering The Quiver of Scathach. It is said that every arrow from this quiver is strengthened by her grace and never, never misses its mark. It is made from hardened leather and rimmed in crimson-dyed kidskin. Perceval Tucker, Ebon Ilnaren and M'Lady Belial, I would like you to follow Mirage."

"Cray, with you we charge the recovery of what was stolen from us. The Gavel of Scathach, the hammer, is here and was taken by the agents of Bhaal. We will be supplying you with Master Kruger's armor and with Mr. Batten's protective gear as we know that one of these Bhaalites was a fire dancer. Joining her were a Death Knight and another woman whose face was nearly completely painted. Use Leonidas Heracleides, Icer Shimmerscale and Race to regain our rightful property from the maw of Bhaal. And in doing so, finding out more information about how many are here and where they are."

"As for me, I will take Flash, Tasselhofl Momus and Camilla. We will search for the Compass." She swallowed, her blood was rushing in her ears causing her head to ache. If this relic ended up in the wrong hands, disaster would surely follow. "For it is this compass that directs its holder solely unto the Island of Shadow, rendering our anonymity powerless." It took Isuelt a moment's breath to assert the composure that she so admired in leaders; for she herself was not one. Isuelt was a soldier and had been thrust into this role of leader without much say or alternative. This took some getting used to, but time, unfortunately was something that they did not have. "Once you have found these relics, return them here, to the Scathachian Sanctuary. It is holy ground and we have a vessel waiting to receive them." Deep chocolate eyes blinked and looked quickly to Valkyrie. "Use whatever force you must, and whatever means. I trust that any that aid you, will know nothing of what is at stake here as I trust each one of you with the secrets of my life." She nodded to each of her allies and Sisters gathered, rendering her point home.

Secrecy was at a premium and time was of the essence.