[IRP] Return to the Dread Isle

[Alusq]

Renata didn't believe for a second that this man, making a living on an unliveable rock populated by walking aberrations, was a bishop. That is, it took merely a second for her to realise how much sense it made. This was the last place anyone would look for an important member of the old Order of the Saint, and clearly the higher-ups knew something about the Dragon's Gate that the common clergy did not. Something important enough to make it worth either destroying or preserving. And even if the man was lying, perhaps she could get on his good side with a proper display of respect...

"We beg Your Excellency's mercy!" Renata shouted the words, standing rigid and clasping her hands in a salute as all her etiquette came flooding back into her memory. "We are unfit to behold your..." She trailed off as the man invited them to breakfast. Something told her that the man, though he seemed no older than middle-aged if even that, was too old to have any affinity for the combination of groveling and militarism etched into Renata's head by the Church of the Preservation. The carefree way he carried himself hinted at some sort of enlightenment, enough that he could rise above the oppressive atmosphere of the Dread Isle. If he was telling the truth about his identity, it was a true hermit-sage that stood before the ragged quartet. Or a hermit-bishop.