Secluded in one of the rear chambers of the Sanctuary, far from the boisterous dormitories that held the private chambers of the warriors of Scathach, was a small conservatory. This lush little room was the home to some of the plants that Jenai had procured from the Island; herbs and flowers that would not bloom in the harsher Rhydinian winters. The chamber included two small couches and low lying table, which is where Isuelt and Valkyrie had sequestered themselves for their private talk this afternoon. Isuelt's dark hair was back and braided, her clothing was simple and loose this day, owing to her rare moment of relaxation from duties. She lifted her dark lashes and looked at her Sister, knowing that this topic weighed heavily upon her.

"We were attacked roughly a year or so ago by Bhaal forces." She looked at Isuelt, a deep sorrow in her eyes. "Me and my sister were the first to report the forces we were up against. It was unrealistic the animals and beasts that came at us. Undead wave after wave. We were hovelled in the Den for days before they broke through the front door....Even then the storm raged like a monster....A dragon who had just lost it's favored trinket." Her head shook.

A year ago, Isuelt's troubles had found her clawing back to Rhydin after a difficult and dangerous journey. She hung her head, her braid swinging past her shoulder. She should have been here. Or at the very least, she should have been home, on the Island. She should have heard of this. She should have done something. "And the contents of the Den..." She already knew the answer, but she wanted to understand in full.

"They knew what they were looking for Isuelt. Of that I have no doubt." She paused to look down at her hands. "Bit by bit we fell back, defending what we could and what was important to the Goddess. She fought bravely." She gave a proud smile at that fact. "Seven stayed behind as we raced through the tunnel when our Goddess was injured. Ten took what relics were at the temple and the dying body of Scath through the tunnel until we reached its end seven miles down the mountain." She swallowed, hands balling into fists as rage filled her. "I watched my home burn to cinder and ash.." The words were true. The Den was no more.

Her dazed gaze held Valkyrie's face as Isuelt was nearly hypnotized by the story. As the words washed over her ears, realization began to set in. Not only were the Scathachians being targeted, but their most holy objects were being pinpointed and their Goddess, Scathach herself, was coming under fire. Isuelt sat still for a long moment before an involuntary shutter forced her shoulders to move back further into the couch's support. She drew a long breath of the sweetened air of the conservatory, reminded of home for the briefest of moments. Her black lashes closed and for a long instant she remained still, without a word. When her dark eyes finally opened, she let her attention pour fully over her Sister. Isuelt's voice was stoic, "And then it is done. What they have wanted for centuries, they have achieved."

Her form curled in on itself, hands moving to close over her face as she gave a small sob. "We let them walk right in and burn it to ash." Dark hair spilled over her face as she shuddered and trembled. "My home and my sisters, the ones I've known for centuries, gone.."

The skin between Isuelt's brows wrinkled as she watched Valkyrie's catharsis. Her own lips pursed, she leaned forward and stood up, moving between the two couches to sit back down next to the diminutive warrior. A muscled arm lifted and draped around Valkyrie's shoulders. Isuelt had been in battle many times, had lost Sisters, had lost friends, had lost a husband. She knew of the guilt and remorse that was very possibly coursing through Valkyrie's veins and the rancid taste of it. Isuelt swallowed as she tried to fathom the loss that was just disclosed. It seemed impossible, as if a fairytale land one had read of in a book was discovered to be destroyed. The fabled Den of Scathach was a stronghold, and for many Scathachians it was a place of holy reverence that they would never see. The idea of it being not only destroyed, but defiled was enough to make Isuelt want to retch.

"We were sworn to the duty as children. Raised and preened to be what we so desperately were trained to be. It was our duty given to us by the Goddess who blessed us with long life and we never questioned it." She looked up, her hands moving over her face to hide the tears. As she looked to Issy she spoke. "After Nee died the rest began to doubt their duties and their purposes. They had never had the freedoms others had. We never took on lives other than our services. None savored love or the kiss of a man. None savored what life had to offer." She sucked in a hallow breath and lulled her head back. "Then we stopped at this Inn, weeks later. Several men were drinking, rejoycing in a victory. Our sisters sought peace, savored the drink and the dance." Brows hardened. "It was a trap. Servents of Bhaal had set it there for them. One after the other were strung up like puppets on the rafters in search of the relics. But I refused to let them stay so near to other's grasp and escaped with only two of my nine remaining sisters."

Almost too much to bear, her ears revolted. They wanted to hear nothing save for the pounding of blood in her head. Scathachian priestesses of the highest order, strung up like common cattle. "How....wh.." her tongue struggled for control as her voice wavered only slightly. "How did they know you were coming?"

She wrinkled her nose at that question. "Larane." The name was delivered with the coldest of tones, hate seeping into every ounce. "She was a servant of Bhaal. Told them where we would be every step of the way." She clenched her fists, her lips pursing. "Once it was just us two she sought it fit to try and kill me in my sleep. That was when I was first aware that the Goddess could control me." She looked to Issy. "I woke up to a statue of silver. A woman screaming in agony, her hands shielding her face." Valkyrie shook her head. "Then she told me to run. Take the relics and run, here..."

Traitors were the razor that did the most damage in a blade fight. Unseen until it was too late, Larane had crumbled their beloved Den from the inside and cost the lives of so many Scathachians. Isuelt's lips tightened until their color blanched. Her hand on Valkyrie's shoulder tightened instinctively, "You are here, among the loyal. Among the faithful now." What else could she say' What else could she ask" Except, perhaps...."Larane. Is she still alive?"

"If she is then she's a mere shadow of what she was before." She said with a shrug. Her gaze flickered to Issy. "I don't know about loyal. Faithful." The very thought had her mouth sour. "I keep wondering if there aren't Bhaalites everywhere. How well do you know the newer of your sisters" How much faith can be put in them now that they are on the inside" We accepted Larane with open arms when we found her. We trained her and not once suspected her."

It was a fair question, and one that gnawed at the heart of this warrior. It was true, there were those Sisters present in Rhydin that Isuelt would vouch for without a hesitation. Women that she had known for years like Trixie, Delphinea, Athena and Derinoe. But there were also many newcomers. Women she had neither trained with, nor trained. She took them on their word, their ceremonial markings and their knowledge of tradition. Isuelt blinked and looked to Valkyrie as she released her shoulder and sat back against the couch. "I...I've been away from the Island a long time. I've not...I don't know all of the women under this roof like I should." It was perhaps a confession of her own.

"I know one thing, and I know it well." She drew in a small breath, her lips turning to a frown. Fingers trailed through her dark locks as she pondered how to state what was running through her mind. Her dark gaze locked with Isuelt's. "It took one woman to deliver the weaknesses of the Den to Bhaal himself. It took one woman to steal our hearts and crush our home in one raging storm. It took one woman to destroy what we had worked to preserve for centuries in a week. It took one, fucking woman, to take what was holy and spit on it." Rage burned in her eyes as she sat there. "How many will it take to reduce our order to a mere memory?"

It was as if Valkyrie's words had pierced Isuelt's bones. The chill that her judgment held hung in the air like an echo of thunder. "One to bring down the many." She shook her head, it didn't seem possible. "How shall we proceed, Val?"

"Faith and trust is something that cannot be earned in a night Isuelt." She frowned at the reality of what she had learned in the year or so that had passed. "I have faith in you because she does. I can't say I trust you entirely, but that's because each step of the way a friend or ally has come to my aid and found due reason to betray it."

Her gaze turned up, eyes burning as she stared at the over head light. "Bhaal is searching for the Isle of Shadow, eventually we will have to get there first and recover the relics in its depths." Still she stared, her gaze dark and intense. "The day will come where the Fangs of Bhaal will sink their teeth into the temples of Rhy'din."

She finally looked to Isuelt. "We either stay as we are, or we grow stronger. We take what we have learned and benefit from it." Studying the taller woman she sighed. "It is time that your sisters stop dawning themselves as mere judges and priestesses. There is a war about to rage. There is no simple way to put this..." She uncovered the brand upon her wrist, showing her the emblazoned blades and the black and silver flag of Scath behind them. "You, those you trust with your life, those the Goddess trusts whole heartedly, have the power to take up the numbers lost and reforge a new Den for our sisterhood."

Isuelt was almost absent mindedly nodding in conjunction with Valkyrie's words, until the last few finally sunk past her empathy and into her consciousness. Her posture immediately tightened as she looked to her Sister, those dark eyes focused beyond the honed edge of her blade. While no words could be evoked, her obvious dubious sentiments were seen all over her facial features.

Silence swept over them like death in a crypt. She drew in a frail breath before lowering her head, hands moving to cup at her face. "It is not something to take lightly or accept on a whim. I know you must think and I understand that."

"A Keeper. Their status is legendary; entrusted to them are the most lofty of positions." Her voice rang like a far away chime, she was mesmerized by the notion of her oft-fabled Sisters. "Incredible that they...they have been killed..."

"All but one..." She reminded as she sat there. "We were overwhelmed Isuelt. Over matched. We were fighting a hundred to one, perhaps more." Shaking her head she locked dark eyes on her friend. "No human being could handle that kind of power against them hand to hand, let alone blade to blade."

"Human being..." her voice echoed nearly without volume as the warrior sat in stunned silence. "That is the problem, Val. I feel....sometimes I feel that we are fighting supernatural forces. Forces that the gods should be dealing with. And yet here we are, mere mortals protecting the gods. It...it seems so backwards. Doesn't it?" Her dark eyes lifted and looked upon Valkyrie. There was a measure of panic and woe in her gaze.

"Never asked for it to be balanced did we" If we did then maybe they wouldn't have asked for our help in the first place." She grinned a little. "Sometimes I wonder why the hell they need our help in the first place than I remember that I have one sharing my body. They can be just as frail and weak as us, its sometimes because we hold them in such a heavy light that they're gods."

Isuelt pondered this for a long moment, her hand cradling her head. Finally, her eyes looked to the floor and she nodded, "The gods are only as strong as we make them to be, as our faith in them allows them to be. Gods do not grow more powerful if there is no one to believe in them, to have faith in them. Perhaps we need to focus our worship on the deity herself, and not just run through motions of daily temple devotions." It was an observation, but it played the dual role of a confession.

"Sometimes a god is nothing more than mortal." She shifted to pluck something wrapped at her side. She lifted it to her lap before unraveling it slowly. It was something that seemed to burn with evil. A horn similar to a sheep's sat on her lap.

The horn seemed to give off a negative energy, indeed. Isuelt sat back a bit, though her back drew up straighter as she watched Valkyrie reveal the object. "What...what is that?" Her dark eyes squinted lightly as her brow wrinkled.

"The horn of Bhaal." She said softly. "Cut from his very head." She covered it back up, the energy fading as she swallowed. Her eyes closed. "I was there the day it was severed. It was the first day I realized that he was mortal....or at least killable. Or breakable."

A visible shiver ran up Isuelt's spine, "That's..." Her voice lowered to a whisper, as if Bhaal himself would hear them and rain down like thunder to retrieve what was his. "That's real" We were always taught that that was legend, a story to scare young Scathachians into following the correct path." Then as if something suddenly occured to her, her lash rimmed eyes fell upon Valkyrie. "How old are you?"

"I lost count as the years passed." She smiled to Isuelt warmly. "I suppose older than many would dare remember in their family histories." She looked up at the light. "Once blessed with the mark and as long as a Scath remains dilegent to their path....I can live as long as the Goddess blesses me to do so."

The awe and wonder she once beheld for the topic of their conversation and the mythological-turned-real Horn of Bhaal, was now focused on the woman who sat near to her. Her lips parted as she simply stared at Valkyrie. "I...I don't know what to say," the very fact that Valkyrie could be well older than Isuelt's dead great-grandmother was a sobering thought.

Mila, the Seer back on the Island of Shadow, aged much in the same way that Valkyrie was describing. In fact, in all of Isuelt's years on the Island, she never knew Mila to change. And anyone on that island, including the High Priestess herself, never knew the Island to be without Mila. Scathach chose her vessels, and blessed them accordingly it would seem.

"A guardian of the Den does not get skilled as a warrior in a mere life time Isuelt." She lowered her head. "Which means that the attack on the temple was not planned within this life time. She had been at our temple for at least four generations before that stormy night." Her hands clutched at the horn. "It sickens me to think of such a thing."

"Then how are we, who are merely infant mortals to defend against such a threat' If Bhaal and his minons have been forming this onslaught for longer than I've been alive, I have no recourse but to draw from my less than limited experience?" It was a slight peek into what had been the impetuous, rebellious adolescence of Isuelt Blwythe. Before war and widowhood had sobered her exuberance, before self-hatred had taken hold of her soul, she was spirited and vivacious. Perhaps there was a sliver of that young girl still within, somewhere.

She shrugged her shoulders slightly, her eyes flickering to lock on Isuelt. "If it's one thing the young have taught me is that they always have new tricks up their sleeves. It's how Nee got me out of some hairy situations. She was nearly your age. Perhaps a generation older." She grinned and set the horn at her side.

New tricks up their sleeves. Valkyrie could very well have been on to something there. Isuelt just didn't know what yet. Yet. She welcomed the parallel to Nee. From what she had heard of the woman from Valkyrie, Nee seemed to be a proud and mighty warrior for the Goddess, Scathach. Her chocolate-hued head dipped in acknowledgement of the compliment. "Perhaps you are right, we will find ways that the Bhaalites have not even dreamt up yet. The young are so very rash." Said with a side smirk.

"The old are rash as well. I remember when I first met your Vixen. She is half elf you know" Lived quite a few years herself." She chuckled. "Smarter than I could be. Perhaps it's wise to consult her when the young work out their plans."

She nodded her head, "Yes, I think you are right. Trixie as well has lived beyond the years of a mortal." Isuelt glanced down at her hands, noting the rugged wrinkles that had formed over the past few years and envying several of her Sisters' bloodlines. She worried that she would not live to see her endeavor completed. She would have to do her best and leave her legacy in the hands of those who would bury her.

"The goddess has a liking for you." She mused as she leaned back. "You were the only name she mentioned in my search for those to trust." Her hands moved to pat her shoulder gently.

Those espresso eyes swung to Valkyrie, almost afraid to believe in her words. The flocculation in her expression asked the question, truly' Though not a word was spoken. Her faith had swung the gamut of fanatisicm in her lifetime. From furvent believer and priestess of the utmost purity, to her dark downward spiral of rejection of her Goddess, and back to a petrified follower who saw herself as the most unworthy of subjects, doomed to fail.

She nodded softly, her eyes flickering back to that light. Her fingers linked on her lap while she dangled her feet over the edge of the couch she had settled on. She leaned against Issy as she whispered. "We all have times of doubt and fear. It's just a matter of how we handle the here and now." Her head lowered. "I had hoped someday when my duty was over, the godess would grant me a life time to have a family and children. But it seems this mission will be the death of me and all my dreams."

A swell of pity and empathy took Isuelt's heart. For she herself had often hoped for a life of hearth and home, of peace and quiet, of love and happiness. And perhaps it was to herself that her next words were uttered, not just for Valkyrie alone, "Scathach can offer many things, not the least of which is a fresh start if She so chooses to bestow it." Her lips turned a smile for her Sister, whose sacrifices she could never begin to dream of.

"I am an old woman Isuelt." She laughed warmly, her eyes a light with mirth. "There is one thing I know in my time of service. A warrior's duty is never finished." She nodded sagely as she sat there, hands clasping behind her head while she stretched and leaned back. Toes curled against the mat and slowly she rose to her feet. "My life has been watching over you children like a brooding mother, you all wear me out." She waggled her fingers. "If it's one thing I know, your energy knows no limits." She paused as a thought crossed her mind, her nose wrinkled. "And you children never listen when told."

For some reason she couldn't explain, Isuelt felt as if she wanted to burst into tears as she watched Valkyrie and heard her words. Instead, she simply bit her lip and nodded, lowering her eyes.

"I told Chi to move that day I saw Brian drawing closer to her." She folded her arms over her chest, eyes growing dark. "She sat there like some love sick puppy."

Still staring at the floor tiles, she simply echoed Valkyrie's notion, "Yeah." She laced her fingers between her knees as she studied the pattern on the ground. "I...I don't really know what that's all about, but I don't like it."

She nudged Issy softly. "Next time we see that man, we have to tie him to a rope or something." Valkyrie paused in thought before she punched the woman's arm playfully. "And get you girls in some proper armor. No wonder you drop like flies."

A weak guffaw shook her shoulders as she looked up to Valkyrie, "We're working on that. The armor anyway. As far as Ravenlock goes, the next time I see him, I'll be hard pressed to 'do the right thing' and not shred him to ribbons right there."

She smirked a little and pointed to her discarded chest plate and shoulder armor. "I think you'll look good in silver." She winked and stretched a little, her frame shifting as she spoke. "Perhaps youth and what not has forgotten that sometimes new dogs need to learn new tricks."

Isuelt matched Valkyrie's smirk as she nodded and leaned back into the couch, "Seems so. Seems that sometimes we're too busy trying to hang on to traditions and teachings to see that the world is changing." She sighed and right then and there relinquished her hold on the dogma that Scathachians should never wear armor. Times were changing, as were their enemies. It was time to meet them with the proper weapons.

Valkyrie studied Issy for a few moments and sighed. "Once this whole ordeal is over you can go back to the old ways. Promise." Her fingers tapped on Issy's head. "But for the sake of my dear friend and hers I would like it if we kept deaths to a minimum." She nodded again, a smile growing on her lips. She had just admitted that in all the matters and the situations she had encountered, she had found a friend.

The allusion was not lost on Isuelt. And as she looked up to her elder, which was a curious thing in and of itself, she shut her eyes and bowed her head. It was a gesture draped in humility, appreciation and obediance. "I'll have Kruger's work ups for the shields and armor pieces within the week. Batten has pledged to aid us in outfitting our weaknesses as well." In truth, she was thankful for these men who had seen to it to aid the proud cult of women warriors, even if some of her Sisters deemed them beneath worthy.

"Then we will have no more injuries over shards of ice." It was spoke as fingers traced over her marking on her wrist. She lifted up the marking and smirked. "Someday our marks may very well be the same Isuelt."

"True," she answered to the ice comment. And she would be entirely and eternally grateful for the healing that she had received at the hands of this vessel. A smirk touched her lips as she bowed her head, still the feeling of inadequacy amazed her, "We shall see, my Sister."

(Live rp between Issy and Val, thanks Isuelt!)