Under a Thunder Dome


"Y...yeas I am.. I'm fine." she struggled to make sense of her words. "I do apologize for running into you like that." she said reaching a hand out for help up, using the other to fix her glasses back in place.

Rhys pulled the girl onto her feet, taking time to grab her fabrics afterward. He brushed off what he could that hadn't been muddied. "Nonsense, you were hauling quite the load. Might I ask what you were doing with them?" A clap of thunder up above and the sky began to cry, pitter patter on the rooftops. He looked up and let the droplets touch his face. "More over, where were you taking them, and if we could hurry inside before further damage is done?" He smiled at the flush in her cheeks.

[Warfall, Temple of Warfall]

Darai took the letters swiftly and examined with her eyes, almost fiery as every nook and crevice of the wax seal lit her gaze.

"Yes..." the gnome muttered. "A great storm rolls in. Let us wait no more."

With that the trio had entered Warfall and the Black Priestess made her departure, sinking off into the rain. Priestess Lyra and the Prophet approached the temple and Darai dismounted her steed. Whitetail huffed as Lyra entered, though the Prophet looked upon the stone work with awe. Comfort. Relief. She was where the root of her greatness began. Home. Or at least home until the High Church thought her deserving enough to be among them...she'd carried out every one of their orders without hesitation. They had to admire what she'd accomplished, right?

Time to read these letters and drift into a much needed sleep, much needed thought. Let's hope the young priestess still knows how to work her drowsy little charms...

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