The Father of Waters

Game Master Fighting Chicken

Galton Tyrill approaches and stands on the other side of Oios, next to Imix. His hand grips a javelin, his eyes are focused on Sarre. "That is right," he says looking around to the quickly growing crowd. "Oios speaks through me."

Aktuk moves to the gate, and with a screech, they open, the guardsmen pushing them just wide enough for the engineers to slide through.

Sarre, meanwhile, pales and lowers her gaze to the ground for a good minute, before looking up to Oios again, her eyes hard. "It is your responsibility, then, outsider. This is no time for strangers to move among us, eat our food, spy our weaknesses."

Her thoughts spoken, Sarre puts her arrow back in its quiver, and turns her back on Oios, looking back out into the rain.

Reserve your hate and your anger for the barbarians who wish us murdered. Not for the people who have lived and died with you to protect Shadeholme. Oios says harshly before turning to the three newcomers. You three. Follow me. Drazan. Isitel. Keep them under close watch. The now acting leader of the embattled settlement turns around and strides back to where the meeting that appointed him 'leader' was held without bothering to see if his orders were followed.

Istiel looks over to Oios. "When did you begin speaking for all of Shadeholme?" Her voice was both inquisitive and riddled with skepticism.

Regsrdless, she moves to the gate, standing close by and watching the refugees as they enter. Naira would pass under the six foot monk's withering stare, Istiel's hands and two-toned red and white mask covered in dried blood.

When the three newcomers are through the gate she takes up position behind them during their journey towards inner Eel's mound.

Since yesterday. Oios says shortly. Where is your Master? I would have words with him.

The monk isn't quite convinced, casting her voice over the newcomers. "Has Gilders failed in his duties?"

A slow, deep inhale of breath is heard, followed by a shallow exhale. "Domhnall is dead." Istiel says with the flatness of a finely paved Cornucopian street. "He took his second Journey and ascended. He witnessed a few prophetic visions I will share later."

Naira nodded, following Oios. The engineer was small, especially in comparison to those around her. The monk was built sturdier and stood more than a full head taller than Naira. The engineer trailed directly behind Oios, not turning back to meet the masked gaze of Istiel. She wanted to whisper condolences, but it wasn't the time.

She addressed Oios: "Our thanks, kind one," the Undine let out as she gave a bow. "I am Naira of the Fox Mound, Engineer of Te-Moak, Sorceress of the Stream and Storm." Apachana hated when Naira listed her titles, and so the Undine kept it brief this time.

Her glance frequently fell on the large Suli. She was familiar with many elemental-blooded individuals, but was always intrigued when she found another. She never voiced it, but she tended to find such people more interesting than most humans. She stopped herself from looking at him, not wanting to seem like she was staring.

The Suriname rises like a storm from the crowd. "Gilders is dead. Oios is leader now by acclaim. He has irreplaceable skill in ferreting out deceit. You said your master had prophetic visions before he Ascended?" The tone of his voice is unmistakable for anything other than suspicion.

"Oios, with your permission I would hear the story of this engineer. I studied the basics myself - I'm sure I could verify their abilities."

Oios' expression becomes grave at the news of a loss of a desperately needed leader. He then gives Isitel an appraising look. Then you are the Master of the Monks of Shadeholme now he says flatly. After all, what other candidates were there? The half crazed girl they brought back in? The nearly killed boy they dragged to safety?

Not waiting for an answer he continues When we get to privacy there are two things that need to be done. First, Isitel must be updated on the situation. Second, these three newcomers must be investigated. We must be satisfied that these three are not some new ploy from the enemy to infiltrate us. Both for their safety and ours. Sarre may have been out of turn but her sentiment is sure to be widespread and must be assuaged somehow. Drazan, keep these three safe in a separate room while Imix and I inform Isitel of what has happened and be informed in turn.

Istiel has nothing to say to the engineer at the moment, looking over her head at Imix.

She shakes her head in unfortunate acceptance when Imix says Gilders is dead, but the rest of his proclaimations are odd. Her eyes turns turn to glowering spheres. He is agitated and trying to talk up Oios. What is this? "Acclaim by whom, Suriname? Oios is not next in line for command. I will not tolerate some schism or strong-arm takover of Shadeholme."

The monk looks to Oios, noticing he is also being strange. Something has happened, and she intends to find out what. "I am no Master until the other Masters say I am. But I am the most senior here. I will tell you of the visions when we are alone."

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Istiel stands in one of the few meeting rooms that are in high hall, arms crossed over her chest. Once the door is closed, she immediately speaks. "What is going on? You look at me like a channel cat eyes bug meal on a hook, Suriname."

Oios crosses his arms as he replies.
Imix probably knows better than I do, but even I am aware that when Monks take their second journey they are comatose. What you say happened to Domnhall does not make sense. Visions? When have Monks dabbled in Prophesy?

"Istiel: What kind of Suriname did you think I was?" the tension in Imix's voice reveals this is not the simple question it might appear. His hand is close enough to his weapon - perhaps coincidentally - to draw it easily. He is distanced enough from Oios that a fight in here could be ugly.

Istiel opens her mouth to respond to Oios when Imix suddenly presents himself as a threat in body language and voice. The monk tenses, her feet subtly shifting into the beginning of her favored fighting style. "What? You are a crocodile like the others before you. This is not impor-" The following escalation of Imix's tenseness makes her quickly rethink her answer.

"Wait. When I first saw you I hoped you were a great warrior Suriname. But you are the magical kind. Why?"

She keeps an eye on Imix while addressing Oios. "You are correct. You may not know that Domhnall dedicated his life to modifying the Journey. He discovered through self experimentation a combination of acid and mate allows the user to stay conscious. It allowed him to see time as a forked river. Domhnall saw what could have been, what is, and what may be simultaneously.

I believe she is who she says she is. Oios says. Are you satisfied Imix?

If he is Oios fills Isitel in quickly.

The mayor is dead. Imix discovered that it is at the hand of a skinwalker that is still on the loose. I proposed, and the other leaders accepted, that I masquerade as the new leader of Shadeholme in an attempt to draw it in. I am the bait.

Imix breathes a deep sigh of relief. 'Logically it ouldn't matter what skin it was wearing, but Istiel's has a certain intimidation factor.
"I am satisfied Oios. Istiel, I congragtulate Domhnall He glances towards heaven "for having achieved his Purpose. There is no greater honour. My desire that we still had him with us is selfish."
He pauses "It seemed the kind of incredibly subtle mistake which might expose the Skinstealer - we believe that it does not have the ability to copy memories. I would not normally treat you with such disrespect."
"We believe - perhaps hope is a better word - that there is only one of them. It killed five guards - elites - when it took Gilders. A feather remained at the site, but it may have been from an ally. It later took the skin of a guard when I trapped it in a granary, using the confusion to escape. The fact it sought escape rather than to fight makes me believe that it may have a weakness to Suriname magic - or perhaps is simply not as confident of its ability to fight."

"Perhaps we should investigate these newcomers, now Istiel is verified? If they have intelligence on the area outside Shadeholme, they could be invaluable."

The Suriname scrubbed a hand against his face, uncharacteristically marred by a trace of stubble.
"I think one of you two should take the lead with the Engineers. While I can certainly put together an exam any real engineer would be able to pass, I just do not seem to be able to wake up properly this morning. My speech is imprecise, my judgement impaired."
He hesitates and continues "Please consider this to be in confidence: it is possible I overextended myself yesterday. Overuse of sympathetic links can lead to changes in the user." he shrugs, and continues grimly "That said, I do not think taking it easy is an option over the next few days."

Istiel relaxes as the situation is explained to her, leaning against the wall in a more casual manner. "I see." She mutters, disturbed that they have enemies on the unsure as well as out. "I understand your suspicion. Had you attscked me a demonstration of my art would have comvinced you too I hope. These were strange circumstances. I will act as your bodyguard, Oios. We will draw out and eliminate this monster."

The monk gives Imix a slight nod, obviously trying to be positive to cover up the gaping hole of loss hollowed out in her gut. "Thank you, Suriname. I too selfishly wish he were still here. But it was truly his time. Domhnall is more powerful than ever now. A great ally in the heavens. Istiel's voice is slightly choked as the knot in her throat returns. She clears it with a heavy cough before straightening her back against the wall, looking down and thinking for a moment. "While Domhnall was tranced i asked him questions about our future. We should heed his last guidance. Though it is cryptic."

"I asked him what would happen if we sent a message to Cornacopia. He said- "A broken bird has fallen on Father's mound. The city rages against the dying light. No message will reach the king."

"A great fire still burns on Monk's mound. I believe it holds a black scaled bird creature we saw before. I considered we could attack their leadership there. Domhnall said "Men can be killed but the Flame is much harder. We do not fight the mountain men but what controls them. Fire is a fearsome thing. Drazen knows this."

"When I asked if we should flee he replied- "Under the mounds and through the woods. It is not the path that is dangerous but how it is travled."

Istiel considers the next portion carefully, still unsure when it would occur or if the engineer had anything to do with it. "I asked Domhnall if the Frozen would parley. He seemed surprised and said- "A woman comes with comfort and a demon's deal." I do not know if our new arrival is that womam."

"I would have given a great deal to have these prophecies - cryptic though they are. Simply knowing not to send a message to the king has probably saved a number of lives already." Imix nods "Domhnall's timing was better than I thought."

Drazan nods and points in the direction he wants the three to go before they begin discussing the sensitive matters, "This way." he growls.

Drazan is used to the stares, and the Frozen's incursion hasnt changed it for the better. He pays no mind to Naira's near stare as he brings them to a room with only one exit, large enough to be comfortable, and large enough to wield his rare metal axe should anyone try something.

"Here." Drazan waves them in.

This is a time of wonders and terrors both. Mayhaps the wonder of Donmhall's visions will light a way through the terrors that inflict us Oios says softly. He seemed a great man in the little time that I knew him Isitel. I have no doubt that he is greater still now that he has passed through the crossroads. But it is left for us living to make the decisions that we must.

I... shudder to think that Cornucopia could really be gone. All the strength of the valley flowed to the city so the city could send back the law and order that protects us. Without that... and I would be blind to say that what we left behind at the time of the Excise was in any way a healthy city... holding out for help is foolishness. The only option that remains is to run.... or fall to the temptation of surrender. Oios tone changes to a musing one Comfort and a demon's deal... The newcomers seem incapable of offering either. But let us see to them and quickly. So we can go ahead and address the people. So we can bring them some order and bait our trap.

Naira entered the room, feigning a smile at Drazan as she passed the door. While she wanted to sit, she didn't want to appear too cozy. Instead the Undine stood still, taking the wet bag off of her back and placing it to the ground.

The engineer held her silence for as long as she could bear, little over minutes within the room. She looked to her fellow architects before, taking a slow, calm step towards Drazan. "They must think highly of you, a single guard for three of us. Have you a name I may call you, warrior?"

"Drazan." he said placing the axe in between the three strangers and himself for him to lean on with both his hands on the pommel of the upside down weapon. "All mountain people are to them is 'Frozen.' You are familiar with the slur just as you're aware Shadeholme only tolerates mountain men only so long as they are useful. They think highly so long as it only takes one mountain man to keep you three in check."

"What is it you do that they didn't leave you outside?"

"The three of us are Engineers. When you drink from the streams and canals, when you step foot upon the roads, when you cross a bridge of any size, you have us to thank." Naira gestures to each engineer as she calls their name. "This is Apachana, and Tetchuix. I am Naira."

She smiles, looking up to Drazan. "Shadeholme must have low standards. Guarding two young women and Tetchuix is hardly a feat. Are you being under utilized, Drazan, or do all engineers receive such welcoming parties?"

Tetchuix, always dour, gives Naira a sideways glance. She knows him well enough to know what it means. Don't poke the savage.

"Well then," the engineer says, his voice sounding like gravel being scraped underfoot. "The Chief Engineer is dead, so your archer says. Who is the next ranking engineer in Shadeholme? We've got a report to give."

The monk nods her head at Oios, in agreement with his assessment. " First we kill this monster. Then we retreat. We must escape with as many people as possible. These newcomers can tell us about the surrounding area. I agree they do not seem threatening."

Her eyes shift to Imix as she makes for the door. "Consider the matter private. We all push our limits now. Rest these few moments while you can."

Pushing the door open, Istiel, in a sudden bout of paranoia, looks around carefully before stepping out into the open. She moves to the room Drazen entered and taps her knuckles against it.

Rap Rap Rap

"Drazen. It is Istiel. We seek audience with the newcomers."

Imix takes a few moments to compose himself, then follows Istiel.

Once inside he inclines his head to Oios, deferentially, then taking a moment's silence as assent begins.
"I am the Suriname, Imix. As you must know, we are under siege. What you would not know is that there have also been attempts at infiltration."
He looks out at the engineers, speaking slowly and clearly.
"Our first priority must be to determine that you are who you say you are, and to determine why you are here. Of those two questions the first is the easiest."
The Suriname hands out a few worn chalk-sticks and some wooden boards. "While I am not an engineer as you claim, I have had some training in the art. Naira, let us start with you. If I have a half-circular pipe channel twenty paces long and four paces wide at the top, write down how many gallons of water..." The Suriname's tests are detailed and tricky, easily the level of a journeyman engineer's entrance exam.

Oios nods at Imix slowly getting used to the Suriname's fundamental need for a hierarchy.

Proceed with the examination, Imix.

Istiel moves into the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Frankly, the newcomers did not look threatening and she is fairly certain she could take them all on at once. Not exactly the type the forces of the Flame would send to undermine them.

The monk was paying close attention to the newcomers at first, but Imix's maths test causes her to lose some focus.

She briefly closes her eyes without much conscious effort- the long night with Domhnall weighs down her eyelids like stones. Her unhealed wounds throb dully, along with a pressure behind her eyes. I should make some fennel tea before this headache gets worse.

When Imix's Exam is complete Istiel opens her eyes and speaks without moving. "Could To-moak recieve our people?"

"There've been many of your kind within our numbers. I can't think of a more noble Purpose than to guide these waters." The Undine reaches into her bag, removing a gridded slate board and several pieces of multi-colored chalk. Next, she removes an abacus.

The engineer begins to write, first jotting down the variables given to her by Imix. She can do the initial calculations in her mind, but for multiplying the circle's constant, and converting paces to gallons, she relies on the chalk and the abacus.

After around thirty seconds, she drops the chalk. Her gaze flickers up at her examiner, and she smiles lightly. Had it been different circumstances, she would provide a false answer, and turn the examination into a test of her own. Naira reminds herself of Sarre's words, these were "dire times." "Nearly fourteen thousand seven hundred gallons," she asserts, "check the numbers yourself, Suriname."

After her test, she turns to the monk. "I don't know your numbers, but I believe they could, yes. Should they, though, is a matter above me."

Apachana coughs, politely, the woman sitting squat and slumped in her chair, before leaning forward, pointing to the slate board. "Naira's right, of course. She's always had an almost intuitive grasp of mathematics. But, she's assuming that this pipe is fed by water running at 'full speed' so to speak. Which, like now, with the spring rise on the Cheya River, such a pipe would be. In the winter, not so much. We'd be lucky to get half the current, if the river isn't iced over, and of course any canal would have to be dredged. But that's neither here nor there. Let's assume winter, for the sake of argument. We still need to take into account grade. Is the pipe flowing at or below waterline, or is it tasked with taking water above the waterline, as some of our feeder canals do? Such a pipe would be used to dump the water in a canal traveling over the river itself - quite the feat, yes!"

The woman's voice and features become more animated as she talks, her hands grasp at Naira's slate board. "Let's assume that yes, it is winter on the Cheya River, and we need to move the water in the pipe at a twenty-three degree incline. You can't put the pipe too low in the water - there's no current there. And you can't put it too high - you'll be left high and dry as the water level drops or freezes-"

Tetchuix interjects - no interrupts - rolling his eyes. "Redundancy. That is why we have redundancy!"

A sideways glance, and a little rolling of her own eyes, Apachana continues, scribbling furiously. "Redundancy, yes. So let's assume that this pipe is the pipe at a level most favorable to the current conditions. And let's assume, Tetchuix, that it is in good repair, to avoid any further talking over others, Tetchuix, and our hypothetical pipe can easily carry enough water - 9,472 gallons - to fill the feeder canal stretching over the Cheya Riv-"

Slamming his hands on the table, Tetchuix practically shouts and points one long finger at Apachana. "Wrong! You're wrong!" There's a reason why you're a structural engineer, Apachana, and not a riverine one! It is 9,217 gallons. Still enough to carry the water, though." Tetchuix finishes, somewhat abruptly, clearing his throat and looking around the room.

Oios waves his hands irritably. Yes, they are engineers. That much is certain.

Istiel stares at the strange argument occuring before her. She has never seen anything quite like this before. The passion, yes, but the subject... Well, she understands why the roads are so level and the canals always full.

The monk pushes off of the wall and walks forward, snatching the chalk board out of Apachana's hands and lifting it out of reach- like a caregiver removing a toy that had become the source of strife between children. "Enough. Your point has been made." She looks back to Imix and Oios. "If these are agents of the Flame the worse they can do is dry up our wells."

The masked woman returns to the, wall, leaning against it- she still has the chalkboard. "You saw the hordes outside. Our people must flee. How are the canals to To-Moak? Are the Frozen watching them?"

"As organized as they are? Don't be surprised if they have eyes on it. Time is on their side."

Imix turns to Oios, inclining his head slightly. "As you say, Oios. A problem cannot be solved until it is understood." he says, quoting one of the engineering maxims.
He turns back to the engineers.

”Ladies and gentlemen. As of twenty hours ago we are in a state of war with the First Flame. Enemy forces have, in that time, captured most of our town, killed three quarters of our population - including most of our warriors - and destroyed the supplies we would need to survive a siege.”

”We have every reason to believe that there will be no help forthcoming from the capital. In addition to the fact that they have stated a refusal to assist, we believe the capital itself is also under attack and may already have fallen.”

”Our enemy is the First Flame. The barbarian hordes we have seen so far are only part of its forces. The enemy outnumbers us. It is at least as technologically advanced as we are. It is magically capable. It contains supernatural flying entities. It employs mind control and at least one shapeshifter.”

”The First Flame is not unknown to us. There have been previous outbreaks, primarily in Wo’tah territories, but also in our own. History describes the First Flame as an infection, though a wildfire is a better metaphor. It devastates all in its path, then dies out.”

”We cannot save Shadeholme. What we can do is get the heart of Shadeholme - its people - to a safer place. Our goal, now, must be the preservation of civilisation itself.”

”We have one, great hope. Serendipity beyond circumstance has given us what we need to survive. The Gods are with us. Your presence, engineers and a sorceror, against all odds, is therefore part of that serendipity. We now need to work out why.”

Naira smiles as the others weigh in on their answers. She'd defend her answer further if it were a formal exam, or even if it was just the three of them.

"And it would take months to do so,“ the Undine adds to the monk. "I'd wager it would be much easier to drown you.“ She jests, though their is some truth to her words.

"Though my talents aside, the channels to Te-Moak are littered with debris and bodies. We spotted a troop of, um, Mountain Men at Lonlan's Ford. They may be razing the area for supplies, or gathering their numbers."

Naira is silent during the briefing. War was not her domain, despite some training she received at the College for managing small militias. She nods as each enemy force is listed off, face stark and emotionless.

"Where are the other engineers? They are more familiar with the region, we require their expertise should you want the most of our services."

I believe Chukix confirmed that you three are the only engineers living in the town. Oios says shortly.

There is another problem now. You three newcomers know more of what is happening in Shadeholme than the people of Shadeholme. Oios continues glancing at Imix I do not know exactly how much of the situation we are in I will reveal to the people but I will NOT have panic spreading amongst the populace and see them turning on each other in search of a shapeshifter. You three will stay with at least one of the four of us to ensure that you do not have loose lips in this. This is for your own protection as well. There is enough suspicion of newcomers as is.

"I suppose I can stay with them." offers Imix. "As engineers they will have been trained in defences and managing small militias. They are also likely to be highly intelligent problem solvers. Finally, I believe they were sent to us. They need 'to know the terrain to build the bridge'."

Istiel doesn't think Naira's joke is funny, casting her a dour glance.

She is clearly concerned about the additional invaders- this may not be an isolated attack. "So To-moak may be under attack. We may be forced to hide in the great forests." Is simply stated, unfolding her arms.

"We have talked long enough here. When are you addressing Shadeholme, Oios?"

Turning her body to Imix, she returns his chalkboard. "Suriname, please bless us with your healing presence before we leave?"

"Of course, Istiel."
Imix bows his head, and the mystic healing radiance of the Suriname fills the room. Energy - life - suffuses all the wounded therein.
channel: 1d6 ⇒ 2
"Perhaps we could start the day with a visit to the triage? I dealt with everyone last night, but there may be more wounded, and many in need of religious support."

Oios words hits Naira hard. The last engineers. Who was in charge then? Did the three remaining need to choose an interim chief? Could the three of them perform without the assistance of senior architects. The rest of Oios speech floats past the Undine. She repeats back some words mindlessly, still dwelling on her thoughts. Yes, yes, for our protection."

Naira glances up at the monk, face curled in shock when she announces Te-Moak may be in danger. The engineer snags back her slate, wiping away the colorful markings on her clothes. "Te-Moak will be fine. Our position is more sound, and our forces are greater. It is of the utmost essence that we warn them of what occurred here. Barbarians can be held back, though we are not prepared for a shifter."

Naira looks to the other engineers. Tetchuix wasn't any good at speaking to those outside his craft, hardly capable of remaining civil with those who could understand him. It was between Naira and Apachana to lead the three man crew.

The engineer bows to Imix. "We have passed your test, have we not? I ask for some time to allow the three of us to converse. As your town has appointed new leaders, so must we."

Be quick about it. Meanwhile I must prepare. Where is Rigel? She may be useful to help calm the people.

"I sent her to get help last night. I have not seen her since then. She was distraught. If you can find her, she may be better joining Istiel as a guard - her experience as an..." Imix cuts off, looks at the huddled group of engineers and changes topic.
"We need to have Texikuk report the inventory. I had asked Rigel to look after her previously; maybe they are together."

The young girl she protects. She may know where Rigel is. Let us try to find her quickly. Word is already spreading from the gate that I am now in charge and it would be best to get in front of the rumours. If we cannot find her soon then I will go ahead soon with just Telowo.

Oios heads out of the room to find the head priest and asks him to prepare the Pavillion for an announcement. It would have been best to have both Rigel and Telowo to help bring some measure of calm and hope to Shadeholme but Telowo alone might be enough.

It was odd but Telowo's enthusiasm and expertise at putting on festivals might actually turn out to have a practical use. Oios shakes his head. Of all the wondrous and terrible things the old inquisitor had witnessed in the last few days this might be the most flabbergasting.

Naira calls the other two engineers close, huddling together. She speaks in whispers.

The monk places her palms together and tips her head forward- bowing her thanks to the Suriname for healing.

Istiel looks to Oios. "The cripple? Rigel calls her Issy. She was at the Coywolf last night helping the triage."

She follows Oios out, glancing back at the huddled engineers. I hope they are right that Te-moak stands firm. It will be the first place we try to go.

--------

When they find Telowo the monk has two requests of her own- "Domhnall took his second Jourmey last night. Please send men to the top of the north warehouse to retrieve his vessel for burning. A personal request- please look for Domhnall's new influence in your prayers. I am sure he succeeded in ascending. He was connected to the passage of time during his second journey. I believe it will be his domain of influence."

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Naira
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After the Meeting
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As you leave the meeting room, Telowo turns the corner, head down, lost in thought. Looking up as he hears the door open, a momentary flash of surprise crosses his face, before the priest smiles. "No one is dead, I see. The engineers are just that, then?"

Nodding as Oios fills him in, the old priest lays a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Of course, I'll help. The best thing, when speaking at any sort of event, is to be sincere. I have no doubt that you'll be so. I'll stand beside you and aid you in any way I can. In fact, that is what I've come to speak with you all about. It seems the news of the engineers' arrival has spread. A crowd gathers outside of High Hall. Nearly everyone on Eel Mound is there, near as I can tell."

Turning to Istiel, Telowo nods, his face solemn. "Of course, warrior-monk. I will look for his influence everywhere. And we will give him a hero's send off. The pavilion in front of the High Hall is probably the safest place for a burning."

The priest pauses, his face showing hesitation. "I have... advice I seek from you all. We have twenty-five dead in the Mayor's penthouse. They need their rights as well. But, we cannot put them into the canal and risk they'll be desecrated by the Frozen. Religious doctrine calls for their spiritual journey to the crossroads to be accompanied by water. Even a jug would do, in a pinch, but I feel we can't risk the health of those of us that are alive. Our well will run dry eventually, if this siege lasts long enough. What should I do?"

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Engineer Huddle
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After the Meeting
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Naira is quiet as the priest addresses the Oios and the others. She interrupts as Telowo asks her last question. "Call upon the engineers." The Undine stretches her arms as she lists off more titles. "Naira of the Fox Mound, The Lady of the Lake, Sorceress of Rain and Rime. If your rites require water, than merely speak my name and I shall provide it. Be it neath the earth, amidst the sky, or flowing in the rivers, if there is water, it is mine to control."

Naira blinks. She nearly forgot she was speaking to a priest. She smiles nervously, speaking flustered. "By the, um, will of Damballah, of course."

Istiel bows her head to Telowo, grateful for his assistance with seeing Domhnall's remains are treated properly.

She is taken aback by the number of dead in the Mayor's penthouse. This skin-stealer must be incredibly strong. A glorious and purposeful fight. I will kill it for the safety of Shadeholme.