Closed A Breath of Fresh Air [Rachel]

[Oriah]

Spring, Day 8, 514AV

Somewhere not too far off from the Wall, a lone figure took a deep breath, held it in for a moment to savor Spring's sweet scent, and released with a slow smile as she opened her eyes to take in the budding scenery before her. Lady Winter had returned to her icy domain at last to make way for a new year to bloom amongst the once frozen and barren landscape.

It came as no surprise that this was Mora's favorite season of all. The reclusive knight enjoyed watching life poke through the most unlikely of places. A testament to the resilience of Caiyha's vast and endlessly diverse domain, she would always say, and to which Oriah could not help but agree.

Though the deserts could sometimes be lonesome on a rare trek for errands or tracking down a lost member of her herd, the Benshira had always been surrounded by people. By noise, rowdiness, singing, laughter, and restless bodies. But now, under the patronage of Sera Mora and their frequent trips to the quiet, undisturbed woods, Oriah had grown used to the solitude. The only times it chafed against her nerves was when she was out too long on her own, thinking of a certain, pale eyed squire only some distance away at the outpost. They saw each other much more often, now that she had joined the Green Company, but not enough to sate the terrible aching that always worsened during her dutiful hermitude.

"The strength you find when you are on your own is the one thing that will never fail you, Little Bird," the Chaktawe liked to say. She had taken to using the nickname due to the wings that spanned on Oriah's back, the irony of which was not lost on the young squire. Birds, birds, birds...it seemed the gods and goddesses had something avian planned for her every step of her journey. "And try not to think so much of your blue eyed raven," Mora scolded every now and then, much to her squire's embarrassment. "Remember your duties, and to only rely on yourself."

Oriah liked to mouth along to these words when her patron wasn't looking, though she swore the Chaktawe had eyes on the back of her head. It tended to dampen her spirits a little to be reprimanded like a child, but it made sense. She could not afford to be distracted. Yahal had guided her here, and she would see his will through if it was the last thing she did.

The girl took a breath and raised her shortbow, aiming with her dominant eye as she pulled the string back. She was still dreadful with the thing, but Mora assured her that anything could be achieved with enough practice. So, here Oriah was, in the relative solitude of the fringes of the forest, pointing a wobbly arrow at the makeshift target she had set up with nothing but some hay and a burlap sack.

She held the bow with her left hand and pointed her left shoulder to the target, while her right hand pulled at the arrow and string. Placing her feet shoulder-width apart so that they formed a straight line pointing towards the target, she made sure to stand upright as relaxed as she could and took another slow breath. Easy does it, steady, concentrate...Oriah coached herself as she readied the bow, trying to remember all the basics she had tried to pick up a season ago amongst younger squires who lived at the dormitories. It was cursedly difficult, more so than anything she had done in her entire life. But the squire stuck with it, limbs coursing with determination as she let go of the arrow.

Plunk. It landed in the dirt some few feet beside the dummy. "Blessed Yahal," Oriah sighed as she withdrew another arrow from her quiver.

It was going to be a long, long time before she was allowed to go home today.

[Rachel Messer]

Ah, Spring, the season where the woods were reborn anew after Morwen's cold reign, as Tavasi walked upon the realm, mammals woke up from hibernation, flowers bloomed, green leaves grew, and birds chirping. Of course, nature was beautiful and deserved utmost respect whether it was in Winter or Spring, but by Priskil, how Rachel preferred warm Spring that the cold days of Winter. The season was just beginning, some patches of snow could still be seen strewn her and there, Morwen's last legacy before the next Winter. In this lovely day, the blond-haired instructor found herself walking to the Main Gates, heading outside into the Wilderness.

The instructor was wearing her usual training equipment, a studded leather armor complete with their gauntlets, a sharp steel longsword with its sheath strapped to her back, and finally, a light crossbow complete with its quiver. She wanted to hone her skills in the Woods, taking a day off from her usual teaching job in the Fighter's Pit. She could train there, but she wished for a change in scenery once in a while, the sweaty and dusty smell of the Pit would get to her from time to time. Idly, Rachel wondered about how her favorite student fared, a bright young swordsman named 'Jon Wakefield', the pair met back in Winter and they had a healthy mentor-student relationship ever since. They boy had talents and with effort, Rachel was confident he would achieve his dreams of being a knight someday.

After greeting the two knights guarding the main gates, the instructor picked up her pace as she paced forward into the looming wilderness. Chirps of birds filled her ears, boosting her spirit, her jog slightly increased in speed as a bright smile plastered itself upon her face, "Hello world!" She shouted to no one in particular, shaking off the thought of embarrassment, how could one not appreciate a beautiful day such as this? Of course, she didn't forget to greet her most precious friend, facing upwards to the sky, Rachel put her right hand to shelter her sky as she spoke, "You too, Goddess Priskil, my friend and guardian." As she spoke the divine's name, a warm golden light shone from her right palm through her gauntlets, filling her with courage. "Alright!" She gave a confident fist pump then trekked further into the woods.

Not long after that though, just when she was barely entering the famous Bronze Woods, she heard a thunking sound, Is that...? Rachel had very little experience in the arts of archery, but she did use her crossbow for practice occasionally, the sound was faint though so the instructor shrugged it off, but her curiosity was piqued once again when her eyes found a woman with olive skin, brown hair, and wearing the signature light armor of the Order. By Priskil, it was a knight or a squire, by default, Rachel assumed the former. The instructor greatly respected the knights and this one seemed to be practicing with her bow, Rachel remembered on how both Kreig, her brother, and Markus, a knight, both trained with her. She wanted to relive those experiences, to feel the thrill of practicing with her most respected group. She didn't notice about the Chaktawe Knight's presence though.

Her feet took her to approach the olive-skinned woman, as Rachel got closer, she could see the woman was slightly shorter than herself, and had a healthy build, fitting for a knight. The instructor accentuated her footsteps as she made herself known, "Excuse me, Sera," when the woman turned to her, Rachel would slightly bow down in respect, "My name is Rachel Messer, I'm a Combat Instructor in the Anthonius Fighter's Pit. May I practice together with you? I use a light crossbow, not much of a shooter, but I'm getting there." Rachel offered the woman a smile, "If I may ask, Sera, what is your name so I may address you as appropriate?"

OOCSince Oriah's with her patron, I'm assuming she's wearing her knight uniform, PM me if you want me to change anything.

[Oriah]

oocgood catch, would've completely forgotten myself

The squire was still staring forlornly at her scattered arrows, all lying on the ground in wide berth of her burlap target, when a voice cut through the thick miasma of her misery. Oriah had heard the footsteps first, but the former dancer was not her patron. She could neither slink away into the shadows unseen, nor could she knock and aim an arrow fast enough to guard against potential danger. Instead, the girl simply turned to meet her unexpected visitor, one hand gripping her bow, the other the shortsword at her side.

One look at the newcomer, however, led Oriah to visibly relax. Whether it was because of the stranger's fair complexion, the fact that she was a woman, or something else, the Benshira wasn't sure. But she felt no ill will from the blonde haired, green eyed figure now standing before her. Trusting her instincts, the squire let her sword hand fall to rest beside her thigh. It brought a measure of comfort to know Mora was likely nearby, lurking somewhere in the shadows. Though it was equally nerve wracking as well. If this was another test, Oriah decided not to care; she would act as if it wasn't, which was a strategy she'd taken many, many failures and emarassments to grasp.

To her complete surprise, the woman gave a small bow and addressed Oriah as Sera. The Benshira felt her cheeks grow a bit warm at the assumption. She was already imagining all the ways her patron might choose to tease her later on, but the squire kept her gaze steady as a show of respect. Rachel Messer...that name sounded familiar. Ah, an instructor at the Pits! No wonder.

Before Oriah had left the city to train, she had gotten to know a few of the younger squires, who were up to their eyeballs with rumors, tall tales, and the occasional nugget of truth. They had mentioned the Pits and some of its instructors one day, with a little coaxing on her part. "We go there sometimes, dressed as regular blokes, to test our mettle with the common folk," one boy had proudly explained. Based on their descriptions, however, the Benshira suspected such acts of courage had more to do with a pretty face than commitment to their training. Nonetheless, it was knowledge worth having.

And now, here they were. "Your reputation precedes you, Lady Messer," Oriah greeted in turn, offering smile for smile. "And you certainly may. It gets too quiet out here sometimes, and I would appreciate the company."

She held out a hand in the traditional gesture of those north of the Eyktol, always eager to practice these newly learned customs. "My name is Oriah Azari, and alas, I am but a humble squire to Sera Mora, though I am honored to be considered otherwise."

With a sheepish look, she flapped her bow in the general direction of her earth-bound arrows. "As you can see, I'm not quite good enough to be a knight yet."

[Rachel Messer]

Rachel half-expected the woman to act with caution, just like Markus told her that proper warriors often ready themselves into combat position when startled, so she wasn't offended when the olive-skinned woman's hands gripped both of her weapons. She gave a smile when the woman relaxed, the instructor relaxed herself, huffing as she closed their distance so they could socialize without unnecessarily raising their voices. If there was one thing Rachel noted about Order people was that some of them were squires and politely refused to be called "Sera", it seemed the title was reserved for full-fledged Knights, Rachel could understand them, a title should only be used on someone that deserved it.

The instructor truly didn't expect the first words that the woman would spoke were regarding her reputation, as far as she knew, she was just one of the many instructors in the Fighter's Pit, not well renowned or exceptional in that matter, well save for the radiant golden light from her right palm, there was nothing extraordinary about her abilities. Nevertheless, the woman complimented her their very first meeting, she would appreciate it, "I thank you, Sera, it brings me honor to position myself as a helpful citizen of Syliras." It wasn't formality or empty talk, she truly felt dignified at the woman's compliment. The woman accepted her proposal, Rachel nodded in kind, "Thank you, Sera, I hope my abysmal performance in archery will not discomfort you." She walked to a nearby tree, put down her backpack and longsword, but left her crossbow and quiver equipped.

"An honor to meet you," So she was a squire, so technically, she wasn't a squire yet, "I see, give my greetings to Sera Mora, would you like me to keep the title or shall I call you 'Madame' or 'Miss' instead? You can call me Rachel." She held out her hand for Oriah to shake and would call Oriah in whatever title - or lack thereof - she preferred. Rachel chuckled as she examined Oriah's arrows, they both required much training it seemed, "Alright, shall we begin? But please give me a moment, I wish to pray to my patron, Priskil." In a city guarded by justice, Rachel wasn't afraid to fondly speak of her patron Goddess, she was the Goddess of Hope and Vigilance, with knightly virtues, the Order would actually support her for worshiping Priskil.

Rachel clasped both of her hands in front of her chest as golden light shone from her right palm, "Dear Priskil, please bless me in my training today, though I'm still unskilled, I shall strive to hone myself, worthy to defend your name and vanquish all those that transgresses against you..." The light dimmed then Rachel promptly held the crossbow with her left hand while her right reached her back to procure a bolt from the quiver, she placed the bolt into the stirrup, pulled the bow irons, then readied it for firing. Muttering a short prayer, Rachel raised her light crossbow, using the simple sight to help her aim, she was facing a particular tree, intending to at least hit its bark, her aim was shaky at best, she licked her lips then pulled the trigger.

The bolt launched from the weapon, waltzed through the air and... whizzed cleanly pass the tree, she horribly missed. "Well," Rachel rubbed the back of her head with right hand, her cheeks blushing in embarrassment, "That went awful..." She would continue notching her bolts while Oriah practiced with her own, "So, I've been wondering, what kind of Gods do the Knight worship? Well, other than the famous Sylir that is, is Priskil one of them?" If they were going to train together, might as well do some light chit-chat.

[Oriah]

It was relief when she heard the combat instructor offer to address her by a different title. As glorious as it was to imagine herself in full armor and ready to face all that the city's virtue and well being, the squire was still a long way off from deserving such a title.

"No need for such formalities," she shook her head, still smiling. "You can just call me Ori." The nickname sounded fitting for a squire, the former dancer decided as she took Rachel's hand and shook with a warm, firm grip.

Something was strange...Oriah looked down in time to see a peculiar glow from one of Rachel's palms before the instructor released the handshake. And then the answer more or less came. A devout worshipper of Priskil, it seemed her new acquaintance was. The Benshira watched in respectful silence as Rachel clasped both hands before her chest and uttered a humble, reverent prayer.

It was unexpectedly refreshing, to see someone so committed to a faith of purity and righteousness. Of course, all of the knights of the order lived by a creed of humility and justice, and were marked by none other than Sylir. But to see someone display their devotion without inhibition, without grandiose acts of showmanship or hurried gestures of impatience, was something Oriah had not witnessed since she first left her Tent. To commemorate such an honor, she whispered a small prayer to Yahal herself that ended just as the light on Rachel's palm dimmed.

"Blessed Yahal, you have my thanks, as always, for the wisdom with which you guide my faith and path."

Both women readied for the task awaiting them, the squire knocked another arrow from her quiver as Rachel readied her crossbow, aimed, and fired. The instructor missed her target wildly, Oriah had to assume, as the bolt sped past anything noticeably solid.

Her companion flushed with embarrassment, to which the Benshira only laughed good-naturedly and patted the woman on the shoulder. "Not to worry, my friend. Watch this, I'm just as bad."

She pulled back the string and tried to steady her aim, but released too soon as her fingers slipped and the arrow went wobbling into the air before it fell about three feet from them. "See? Oriah retrieved the arrow and sighed, preparing herself for another shot. "We shall be horrid together, and no one will be the wiser for it. Who knows, maybe by the time we're done we might not be as terrible!"

The squire went slower this time, grinding her feet into the ground to get a solid feel for her center as she took a breath and pulled back once more. She let the world fade away for a moment, azure eyes squinting just a little to focus on her burlap target, and then released the air with a woosh of breath. For a moment, it seemed it might actually make it somewhere onto the target.

Then it dove down into the ground, right in front of the dummy.

Fortunately, Rachel posed a question at that moment and spared her the embarrassment of having to explain that one."Well," Oriah began, thinking for a moment, "I don't know too many of the knights myself yet, but Sera Mora worships Caiyha. That is why she cares so much for the forest. It is something of a responsibility for her. A duty if you will. As for myself, I worship Yahal, like the rest of my people out in the Eyktol."

She paused and fingered the fletching on one of her arrows, wracking her memory. "There might have been one who worships Priskil, now that I think about it. But I'm afraid I know next to nothing of your goddess. Tell me, what is she like?"

[Rachel Messer]

OOCSorry it took so long, finally getting back to Rachel as I have an AS now.

"Ahaha, I see..." Rachel gave a concerned look, driven by kinship of fellowship of abysmal archers, the instructor was no archer, very much not, but even she could see how awful Oriah aim was, almost as bad as hers, Rachel was sure she was worse though. However, she found herself liking Oriah more and more, the woman was very polite and fun to talk with, the proverbial ice broke just chimes after their initial banter. "I hope it is so, Miss, I hope it is so." Rachel gave a determined smile, by the time they were done, Rachel hopefully could aim, not hit, but at least aim right.

Rachel picked up another bolt then notched it, checking her weapon for any flaws, as far as her novice knowledge could notice, then she aimed again, licking her lips. The instructor then fired her weapon, the bolt whizzed through the air, heading straight to a... tree bark far left from the 'target'. "Hehe..." Rachel merely gave an awkward chuckle, no matter how used she was to her ineptitude, it was rather always embarrassing, especially since she was a Combat instructor, she should have called herself a Melee Combat Instructor instead.

As Rachel notched another bolt, she listened to Orion, "I see, ah, Sera Mora, your patron, sounds like a lovely woman indeed." Rachel smiled, though she didn't know much about Caiyha, at least the instructor knew she was a Goddess of Nature, Nature was literally everywhere and to be frank, Caiyha was famous. "Hmmm..." The instructor was intrigued by this 'Yahal', who was he? Oriah worshipped him, so he must be a benevolent god, "If I may ask, could you tell me more about Yahal?" The blonde asked politely.

Her face then brightened up, her palm too, literally as Oriah asked about her patron Goddess, without further ado, Rachel lowered her crossbow to explain Priskil in detail, "Priskil is the Goddess of Hope and Vigilance, she is both my Goddess and my friend, her light will be always there to those who accepted it, she came to me when I was but a mere girl, giving me hope and willpower to survive my times in Sunberth. I was an orphan." Rachel explained, tilting her head up to reminiscence, "She is... what she wants to appear to be, but usually female, she appeared to me as a wise old woman."

If Oriah had further questions, Rachel would answer them, how fun, training together and exchanging information about each other's patron God, the instructor hummed happily as she notched another bolt then aimed again, hopefully with lifted spirits, she could at least hit her mark.

[Oriah]

oocno worries, wb!

Oriah laughed with her new partner in atrocious aim, clapping a friendly hand on the woman's shoulder to ease any chagrin. They were in the privacy and sanctity of Caiyha's domain. Plenty of trees all around, not another soul besides themselves in sight. That was largely why the squire had come out on her own to practice; she knew how it could be sometimes within practice rings. Even though other participants were friendly enough, the self consciousness still stung from time to time, especially for a weapon she was so unfamiliar with.

"I think we're getting better already!" the Benshira encouraged before nocking another arrow to her bow.

She could start to feel the strain in her arm now, having already lost count of how many times she had drawn in. Oriah rolled her muscles a little in an attempt to provide them some relief. Then she took another slow breath, squinted against the sight of their makeshift target, and let the arrow loose.

It pierced one flap of the burlap sack before disappearing amongst the budding grass. "Well...maybe getting, um, close."

To Oriah's surprise, the instructor asked of Yahal. It took the squire a moment to find her bearings and provide an adequate answer; most people weren't too keen on hearing long winded and zealous preaching about the God of Faith and Purity.

"Yahal is..." she began, groping for the right words in Common, "...is the light that shines on the impure. He wishes to remove corruption from the land, and those who follow him help however they can." The squire raised her bow a little to stretch, feeling the weight of it pressing against two subtle, inked wings spread across her back.

"When we sacrifice ourselves for another, hold onto our faith in the darkest of trials, or speak the truth even when it is much harder than lying, Yahal smiles upon us with approval. If we fall, he will help us stand. If we are alone, he will remind us with the warmth of his faith in our ability to overcome." Then Oriah's expression grew a shade more serious, just for a tick. "But when we lie, steal, or betray, our god shows no mercy. "

A small shrug and smile. "I only learned of the Order's shared respect for my god when I became Sera Mora's squire. It comforts me sometimes. Feels a little bit like home."

In turn, Rachel spoke of her god as well: Priskil. The Benshira stood still and attentive, absorbing as much information as she could. It was always both interesting and valuable to learn of the other powers that ruled these lands. Not to mention that faint, warm glow emitting from the instructor's hand was more than a little incredible to the squire's magic-ignorant eyes.

As her new friend spoke of how Priskil had come to the instructor when she was but a young orphan, the story triggered a few sorrowful pieces of Oriah's past as well. "Ah, it seems you and I are not so different..."

She looked down at the vibrant shoots of green poking from between her boots. "My god came to me in my time of great need as well. I would be nothing but small bones buried beneath hot sand right now if it had not been for his guidance. My sister...she was not so lucky."

Finding the old memories still too painful to speak of so freely, Oriah quickly changed subject. "Is Priskil the one who, ah, helped your hand glow like that?" It was a bit jarring in terms of transitions, but it was the best she could do in the moment.

[Rachel Messer]

Rachel listened tentatively as Oriah explained about her patron God, Yahal, God of Faith ahd Purity. Of course, his embodiments were connected with Priskil's, which were Hope and Vigilance, hope and faith went hand-in-hand, as well as purity and vigilance. To know that Yahal was one of the Knighthood's patron Gods didn't surprise Rachel at all, in fact, she was greatly comforted and her interest in finally joining the Knighthood someday in the future only cemented further.

"I see, Oriah," Rachel started calling the squire by her name, which signaled her growing affection for the Benshira, "Yahal is most noble indeed, I would be very honored to take him as my God as well, I am sure Priskil wouldn't mind," The instructor was sure the Hope Goddess would definitely consent her worshiping Yahal. With both of these Gods by her side, she would never fear despair or helplessness, she would always stay strong even in the face of overwhelming odds, no evil, taint, or corruption shall worm their way into her soul. Of course, smiting evil and rebuking chaos came as a last resort to those who did evil.

Rachel nodded as she notched another bolt to her crossbow, giving herself a daunting task in splitting her attention between conversing with Oriah and aiming for her target, the instructor licked her lips again as she faced her elusive unmoving target which seemed to just refuse to accept her bolts, how rude, she would teach it a lesson, with pull of her finger, the trigger released the bolt, it soared beautifully... into a tree branch, somehow someway. Priskil and Yahal, help me...

"Ahaha, well..." Deciding to cover up for her embarrassment by banters, Rachel began explaining about Priskil again, "Yes, my hand was marked by her luminance, the power to give hope and courage, and ease away fears," The instructor smiled then showed her right hand to Oriah as she held the light crossbow with her left hand, "Go ahead, remove my gauntlet..." If Oriah did so, the Benshira would see a glowing vortex, seemingly alive, giving off a warm torch-like golden glow, "Of course, the mundane use of always having a torch in your palm also helps," Rachel chuckled, "I can go stroll in the dark without carrying one."

Covering her hand up again - it was a cold Winter day after all - Rachel's tone took a rather somber one, "I see... my words might not mean much, but I give my condolences to your sister," She didn't want to linger on the topic, so Rachel notched another bolt again, "So, I'm curious, in what way did Yahal mark his followers? Priskil usually kiss our palms." Rachel didn't see any obvious markings on Oriah's features so it must not be on the face or hands, or perhaps Yahal didn't give any 'visible' mark, each God was different after all.

[Oriah]

It was a pleasant surprise to hear that the instructor wished to take Yahal as her god as well; at least half the people Oriah had met during her journeys were reverent to the gods and goddesses, but not all of them exercised active worship. And even fewer sought to include more religion in their lives. That they were having this conversation at all was telling enough.

Rachel was certainly an interesting one. Though the Benshira had never given much thought to worshiping others, as Yahal was known to have a jealous streak in him, she did so now. Just a little. What would it be like, to accept another goddess into her life? To have both Yahal and Priskil's favor by her side?

For now, though, the squire tucked away this idea for future speculation. She had enough trouble focusing on hitting her burlap target just once today.

Together the two women practiced with their respective weapons in the midst of conversation that was somehow light and weighty all at once. Oriah had lost count long ago of how many arrows she had sent to their earthly demise. She contented herself with thinking only of hitting her target, no matter how many arrows it took and how fatigued her arms became.

The squire allowed herself to succumb to a moment of respite, though, when Rachel urged her to remove the gauntlet covering Priskil's luminescent favor. Lowering her bow until it hung loosely at her side, Oriah gave Rachel a hesitant look before pulling off the armor with a gentle tug. What she saw prompted a small gasp of surprise from the Benshira. She gazed upon the glowing vortex with wide eyes, warm light reflecting off azure as Rachel's mark swirled as if it had a life of its own.

"I have never seen anything like it," Oriah confessed freely and not without a trace of awe. Growing up in the deserts had imparted with her many things, one of which was a healthy suspicions of all magic. But the mark of the gods was different, she was slowly coming to understand in full, and as varied as the life that roamed these lands itself.

"It is quite beautiful," she remarked once the instructor had explained the practical aspects of possessing such a favor, "and useful as well! It is always a good sign when these two things go together."

When Rachel gave her condolences, Oriah waved a hand to ensure the instructor had nothing to be sorry about. "It was, as some often say, the will of the gods. My sister made a mistake, and she paid with her life. I cannot say I agree with how her story ended. But in many ways I can understand." Which were harsh words for a subject once so tender. But the former dancer had traveled long and far since the day Priah had died, and not just in the physical sense. While some days she found herself missing her sister immeasurably, haunted at every turn by her hollowed gaze and cracking lips, others she could almost accept in full what had happened as just and deserved.

Almost. But not completely.

Rachel's question concerning Yahal's mark was a welcome distraction and Oriah eagerly complied. Setting down her bow and arrows, she shrugged around in her leather armor for a bit before pulling on side of her collar low and wide enough for her new friend to see. Only the very tips of the simple wings inked her back could be seen, but it was enough to give a general idea. She couldn't very well strip in the middle of the forest so it was the best she could offer in the moment.

"It is not quite as bright to behold," the squire explained, craning her neck back so she could still address the instructor while showing her mark, "but it keeps me safe from those who wish me and my friends harm through dark magic and doings. It is supposed to look like a pair of wings, but mine is only the very beginning of the final piece."

She shrugged her collar back into place and picked up her weapon once more. "I hope one day to bear the full glory of Yahal's faithful wings. But for now, I must master this difficult weapon."

Oriah gave her practicing partner a wry look. "Do you feel like you are improving? Because I am still horrible."

[Rachel Messer]

Rachel read the situation, it was better to put Oriah's dark past to rest, both women had struggles of their own but it was in the past, they were here now, safe and sound in the Fortress City of Peace, and that was the important part. As Oriah revealed a part of Yahal's mark on her back, Rachel became very curious to see its beauty in all its winged glory, even the tips looked enticingly pretty. Also, the favor granted by Yahal was very useful, not to mention honorable, the power to stave off evil and dark magic, oh how she wished to have those so she could never be tempted by them. Being a Sunberthian by birth, Rachel knew how low a man could fall. "I shall be honest, I wish Yahal would notice me... Priskil knows how I need the boon granted by him, I am from Sunberth, the lawless... scum of a city, where a man could murder others over a simple loaf of bread."

"That we will, Miss, that we will..." Rachel chuckled as she raised her crossbow back then aimed at her target once more, "Mmm... I don't know for sure, I feel..." She fired, this time, the bolt luckily hit the target, though not a bulls-eye but a good enough shot for a novice, "I think I am, not by much, but it will come in time." Rachel was about to notch another bolt when a presence made themselves known to them.

"I see, keep practicing, ladies, I struggle with the crossbow once..." It was a middle-aged man in full plate armor, a Knight of Sylir, Rachel's eyes widened then about to speak but the Knight interrupted her, "The name is Wade Brock, Sergeant Knight, Red Company, 1st Regiment, Gold Quadron. I was just patrolling and heard you both talking about Yahal, well, I sensed Squire Oriah here is marked by the great god." Wade gave a nod of respect at the fellow Ennervist, "How is Sera Mora doing, Squire?" He asked then turned his attention to Rachel, "And you, miss, are a devoted of Priskil, Goddess of Hope, I see..."

Rachel then straightened her back as she gave him a humble nod, "Y-yes, Ser Wade! I am one of her friends."[/b] She tried hard not to be awed at his authoritative presence, but it wasn't working. Before she could make a fool out of herself, Wade assisted her, the Knight pointed to the bolts and arrows marring the ground, "I think I am interrupting your practice, do carry on, I will be around here if you need me."

"O-of course, Ser! Have a good day, Ser!" Rachel acted with exaggeration which earned her a chuckle from Wade, she turned back to continue with her crossbow practice but... her hands were shaking, trembling, gosh Oriah must be horribly amused seeing her like this, gulping to herself, Rachel flared her gnosis to ease down her nervousness as she reloaded her crossbow then pulled the trigger, the bolt missing the target by a large margin, "I... I'm a silly woman..." She sighed, it was always like this when she was in the presence of a Knight.

OOCI figured bringing Ser Wade into the fray would make things interesting.

Now, if only Sera Mora is here...