The Southside Docks in the dead of night were not the quiet place one would expect. It was waxing on towards three a.m.; Isuelt had been keeping vigil over a few piers from her rooftop vantage point. She was watching cargo being hauled, loaded and unloaded. And she couldn't help but spy a transaction of another sort between several water-logged sailors and a few of RhyDin's finest working women.
Shrugging her shoulders higher, almost in an attempt to help keep her ears warm within the folds of her hood, Isuelt's mind once again left on a sojourn of its own accord.
Scathachians....Priestesses of Scathach. Yes, She was the Goddess of War. But it was righteous warfare; war to pursue a just cause. Her daughters were vindicators of those who would enlist Her aid. And while the Scathachians were trained for the multifaceted employment of Judge, Jury and Executioner, they were not to invoke those skills unless on the field of active battle.
And while the city of RhyDin often could feel like a battlefield, it was not.
Bringing a criminal to justice simply meant just that...delivering him or her to the authorities. It did not mean executing every purse snatcher, adulterer, or even murderer as a Scathachian saw fit. Instead, the Warrior-Priestesses strained to keep their opinions, both political and personal, separate from their work.
Battling to keep a neutral sense of judgment, however, was often easier said than done. Especially now, when the crimes being committed in the WestEnd were so blatantly an attack on the Scathachian Nation. And what if the Sisters, or any of their allies did catch the culprits? Isuelt knew there would be no neutrality shown...or even invited. Personal feelings would be impossible to banish this time. The sting of injustice had been felt by the Judges...and they would be out for blood.
Isuelt drew a breath of the cold night air and knew she would need to descend from the rooftop soon, as a fog was beginning to settle. She would be on patrol until after daylight, when Serena and Reeni were to take over; and she would retreat to a much needed rest, however hampered with nightmares it might be.
Shrugging her shoulders higher, almost in an attempt to help keep her ears warm within the folds of her hood, Isuelt's mind once again left on a sojourn of its own accord.
Scathachians....Priestesses of Scathach. Yes, She was the Goddess of War. But it was righteous warfare; war to pursue a just cause. Her daughters were vindicators of those who would enlist Her aid. And while the Scathachians were trained for the multifaceted employment of Judge, Jury and Executioner, they were not to invoke those skills unless on the field of active battle.
And while the city of RhyDin often could feel like a battlefield, it was not.
Bringing a criminal to justice simply meant just that...delivering him or her to the authorities. It did not mean executing every purse snatcher, adulterer, or even murderer as a Scathachian saw fit. Instead, the Warrior-Priestesses strained to keep their opinions, both political and personal, separate from their work.
Battling to keep a neutral sense of judgment, however, was often easier said than done. Especially now, when the crimes being committed in the WestEnd were so blatantly an attack on the Scathachian Nation. And what if the Sisters, or any of their allies did catch the culprits? Isuelt knew there would be no neutrality shown...or even invited. Personal feelings would be impossible to banish this time. The sting of injustice had been felt by the Judges...and they would be out for blood.
Isuelt drew a breath of the cold night air and knew she would need to descend from the rooftop soon, as a fog was beginning to settle. She would be on patrol until after daylight, when Serena and Reeni were to take over; and she would retreat to a much needed rest, however hampered with nightmares it might be.