Bags of Clues

JP with White_Caribou and Cindy

Islana watched with interest the bags and how careful Shaila handled them.

When the dark haired witch asked, "May I?" The responses from the redhead was a nod, "Of course."

Hopefully the contents of the bags would prove some use.

Shalia elected to start small with the book pack.

"I intend to study everything I show you. They may offer insight on our enemy and what they arm themselves with." She left out the reader's and historian's curiosity that also drew her in.
First she pulled out the codex, holding it a moment before setting it closer to the Prophetess. She would do this with all of the objects after allowing some time for comment if any came.

"This is the Noctua Inquisition Combat Codex Hoping it provides further background on their tactics."

Then came the old journal which she still handled gingerly. "This one is a very old field journal called The Road to Salvation. It offers historical accounts from Saint Iker Pahadron, a legendary figure to their holy order."

She set the ivory cards atop the old book with the Arcadian map open. "Some pretty playing cards. The map is hand drawn."

As Shalia picked up the last item, she paused to look at the cover. This was the personal journal that belonged to the holy woman, poem edges still poking out. There was something coming back to her now as she recalled the gleaming blade under moonlight outstretched toward her chest, the sound of Voah's voice commanding the fight to stop in Mizaran...

She blurted out the new memory before she could even build up to it.

"She knew your name, Islana." The witch looked toward the Prophetess after saying. "The Sword of Vastad woman--the Arbiter--whatever she is. She asked me why I betrayed you. But I never hurt you, never left you..."
The memory and implication of Voah's words stung and Shalia found her eyes watering with a waver of her voice. She shook them off quickly. The tone of the warrior felt genuinely angry; more than a taunt aimed to throw off the witch. Or maybe Shalia was not focused enough to see past the illusion then. Caught up in the high of the hunt.

"This is her personal journal," the witch pushed it toward the pile. She spoke sternly afterward. "I think you know each other."

The Noctua Inquisition Combat Codex, could prove of use but being it was clear Shaila already understood that it didn't seem like a necessary comment.

The Prophetesses opened the book, out of curiosity, lightly and carefully looked it over before closing it again. "I look forward to finding out what you learn from this one."

The Road to Salvationmight offer more insight into why the Inquisition detested witches. Islana didn't bother much with it as the other Sister's were far more interested in the first book. Still, her green eyes gave it a cursory glance out of a slight curiosity.

The cards remained untouched for the moment.

Before Islana could explore more, Shaila blurted out the the Arbitrator knew the redhead.

"Voah," More mouthing the words, but if the Arbitrator that met Shaila with her blade was Voah, where was Gonyaul?

At which point, Sister Locust looked at the Journal. "Is this Mizaran?" Islana had no idea how to read that language but it looked similar to what would be expected by it.

The hurt, anger in Shalia was noticeable and Islana lightly touched the dark haired witches hand for a moment. "You rescued me."

So, much was running through Islana's mind, at the moment, that she needed a moment before continuing.

"I think the Arbitrator was Voah, the one that helped save me from the Creed. If its her, I highly suspect Alcuin lied to her about you and me and what actually happened."

At this point, the journal was put aside in favor of the playing cards, not really expecting to find any clues as to what happened to the man she considered to be like a brother.

The surprise on the woman's face was noticeable as the card revealed writing on it. The script was similar to the tattoos that covered her friend's body.

So, maybe he was here. Maybe, Alexis had been the tall woman with the sword. Maybe... the single strand of hope of seeing either of her friends dissolved as the reality set in. Islana was now, likely, one of the most recognized people in all of Gra'akast. She would, inadvertently, lead the guards straight to them if the redhead tried to get to them. So close, yet so far away.

Then came the voices of the others reminding her that Helians were now the enemy. Her friends were Helian but thinking of them as the enemy was far too painful to deal with right now. A wipe of her emerald eyes and a long silence gave away an internal pain.

Not wanting to know the answer but needing to, "I hate to make you relive it, but the man that touched you, did he have tattoos covering his body?"

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