05-07-2020, 02:48 PM
With the entire group in agreement, the four of them headed towards the cabin. There was a door, and a well-made quartered glass window. As they approached, Tiras made out a pole with a line of rope anchored to the cabin. As they got within fifty paces, Tiras had the suspicion that someone lived here. The area surrounding was well-maintained, and strewn about the place were tools and signs of life. This is very weird. Who would be living on the Dread Isle?
As if on cue, the door opened, and a seven-foot tall shirtless man carrying a laundry basket strolled out, whistling to himself as he set it down near the rope. The man pulled out bedsheets and hung them all along the rope. His green hair was well tended, and he maintained a clean-shaven appearance. Tiras dropped his jaw, dumbstruck at this odd, well-kept hermit living alone on a haunted island. He tilted his head, clinking some of the mail on the aventail.
The man whirled around, surprised at the sound. His dark eyes focused on them, and he brushed back some of his straight, sea green hair. Setting his hands upon his hips, the man looked the haggard group over, studying each of them. His eyes finally came to rest upon Raye, and his gaze softened somewhat.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here on Valor?" he asked, sternly, but without malice.
"I... uh... I'm Tiras. I was a squire to the late Adrian Verde," the youth answered. He gestured with his right arm, grimacing in pain as he did, "These are my companions, such as they are. Renata, formerly of the Church, Lennox Hyperion of Etruria, and Raye, who I know nothing of. We were sent here by... less than reputable people, with a less than reputable purpose. That purpose is moot, as our ship and its cargo are sunk. We seek the Dragon's Gate to try and find a way off the island."
The man continued looking at them, pondering, before replying, "And I am Bishop Renault, of Saint Elimine's church. I am here on hermitic pilgrimage. Come, lay down your arms and we can speak candidly over breakfast."
As if on cue, the door opened, and a seven-foot tall shirtless man carrying a laundry basket strolled out, whistling to himself as he set it down near the rope. The man pulled out bedsheets and hung them all along the rope. His green hair was well tended, and he maintained a clean-shaven appearance. Tiras dropped his jaw, dumbstruck at this odd, well-kept hermit living alone on a haunted island. He tilted his head, clinking some of the mail on the aventail.
The man whirled around, surprised at the sound. His dark eyes focused on them, and he brushed back some of his straight, sea green hair. Setting his hands upon his hips, the man looked the haggard group over, studying each of them. His eyes finally came to rest upon Raye, and his gaze softened somewhat.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here on Valor?" he asked, sternly, but without malice.
"I... uh... I'm Tiras. I was a squire to the late Adrian Verde," the youth answered. He gestured with his right arm, grimacing in pain as he did, "These are my companions, such as they are. Renata, formerly of the Church, Lennox Hyperion of Etruria, and Raye, who I know nothing of. We were sent here by... less than reputable people, with a less than reputable purpose. That purpose is moot, as our ship and its cargo are sunk. We seek the Dragon's Gate to try and find a way off the island."
The man continued looking at them, pondering, before replying, "And I am Bishop Renault, of Saint Elimine's church. I am here on hermitic pilgrimage. Come, lay down your arms and we can speak candidly over breakfast."
![[Image: 20c7YiV.png]](http://i.imgur.com/20c7YiV.png)
Thank you Destin, for the awesome mug of Ambrose.