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TRIBUNAL

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Grey

Dialectical Hermeticist
ACT ONE - All Songs Ended

Six days ago, someone murdered one of The Beloved. A priest of Death, not merely murdered, but her spirit denied to her Goddess. And yet the killer evades all the powers of the city.
One day ago, a murdered Priest of Whale was found near her home at the edge of the bay, her throat torn out, but the Beloved who investigated found she had been dead for at least two days already.
This morning, a mere night after you were convened as Tribunal, you have been informed the killer has struck again - this time killing a priest of Jade Cicada, the god of gambling, just an hour ago.
You were woken from slumber and charged to begin your investigation immediately.

The marketplace on Tselder’s Way bustles in the morning light, vendors crying their wares, rich scents of spice and fish wafting from the stalls. Bright fabric adorns them all and the merchants are finely attired for the shade, a wealth of rings clicking on their fingers. On a plush cushion at the end of a fishmonger's counter, a fat ginger tomcat imperiously watches you pass. Of course the crowd parts for you - as far as he is concerned, they'd do the same for him.

The Temple of Jade Cicada rises from the southern end of the street, overgrown with branches and leaves which are now silent. An absence so palpable as to be disconcerting.
The tables at the foot of the steps have been abandoned, and Soil Caste Wardens stand in neat lines to keep out curious onlookers. Armed with wooden shields and finely made clubs, they stand to attention at your approach.
 
The high clear note of a silver bell rouses Ceda from her slumber as her canopied palanquin comes to a gentle halt before the temple. She yawns and stretches luxuriously, accepting an ornately carved whalebone cigarette holder almost the length of her forearm proffered through the palanquins diaphanous veils by a handmaiden. There are evening drugs and morning after drugs, and this is decidedly the time and place for the latter. She takes a deep drag, holding it long enough to feel the tingling rush of alertness before filling her shaded palanquin with a plume of faintly luminescent smoke. She observes it drifting lazily in the early morning light for a time - she can empathize - before slipping her feet into jewelled sandals placed on the street below and rising to meet the dawn.

She surveys the scene before her, eyes lingering on Anahita for what in anyone else might be considered an unprofessional amount of time but Ceda prefers to think of as sacred duty. She dismisses the crime scene - that is the province of Alluring Black Pearl and Meti. Her eyes instead settle on the monarch reigning resplendent over the fishmonger's cart.

"Isa, fetch a fillet of the finest the fishmonger is selling, a nice tray to bear it, and the dark purple satin pouch from the palanquin." She idly watches the other members of the Tribunal conduct their business until Isa returns bearing everything she requested. She smiles absently at Isa, draws a pinch of the catnip from the pouch, sprinkles it around the fish on the tray, and gestures for Isa to follow her as she approaches the tomcat. She bows low enough to indicate she is a visitor to another's court of equal rank and not a hair lower, and Isa reflexively prostrates herself, presenting the tray.

"Your grace, did you perchance spy a perfidious interloper in your esteemed court this night, or any sign of wicked spirits or witchcraft vile?"
 
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Meti takes the fastest path to the Jade Temple, which involves several back streets, climbing over a wooden barrier, and walking through two stone walls. She's the first one there, but not by much. Meti's post is almost on the other side of the city, which is one reason for her haste. That, and she's not entirely certain why she got chosen for such an important Tribunal. Honored, of course, and she doesn't doubt her capabilities, but Meti's never one to play the political game. Since she's gotten this chance, though, she plans on making her worth as flawless as she can.

She knows the sounds of the city, and the heightened murmurs—and the angry, silent god—scratch against her sense of normal. Meti climbs the steps of the temple, saying "At ease" to the wardens, and they shift positions for the few minutes before the next priest arrives.

Amahita arrives then, and Meti gives her a nod and a small smile that only she would notice. She doesn't go to greet her yet: duty comes first. But she's truly pleased that her friend was chosen also. They haven't commiserated over drinks and hashish yet, but with this new murder, they might get the chance to do so tonight, either. Meti scans the crime scene, lingering for a moment on the body. But Pearl would handle the corpse, so Meti changes her focus quickly.

Meti walks over with quick, purposeful strides to the warden who was in charge. "Report," she says, projecting calm confidence. Especially for crimes like these, making others feel like the situations been handled is almost as important as handling them.
 
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"Another one..." Pearl mumbled to herself as she worked her way through the streets towards the Jade Temple. She kept her gaze forward as if she was on a mission. Her pace was quick yet graceful and purposeful. Thoughts of how displeased the goddess would be with yet another murder raced through her mind. Her thin frame seamlessly passed the passerbyers on the street. Her long black hair flowing elegantly behind her as she moved.

As she stepped foot into the temple her chest felt heavy. A feeling a dread came flooding over her, her pace slowed to careful and meaningful steps. She looked ahead and saw the others. She gazed over to the crime scene and took a deep breath, pausing for a moment. She noticed Meti speaking with one of the wardens "I'll wait" she thought to herself as she turned her gaze and moved closer to the scene.

She approached the body and closed her eyes, taking a moment of silence to respect the soul that was brutally displaced. Sorrowfully, she uttered a short prayer for lost soul, wishing it a gracefully entry to the other side, and letting the intention be known that you can aide the soul in its journey. She opened her eyes and scanned the area to see if any ghosts were around that may have some insight into what happened...perhaps the poor soul would step forward to let you help her to the other side.
 
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For Ceda

Cats do not speak as women do. A complex pantomime of tail and paws and eyes, with a few eloquent meows instead suffice.
But first, the tom delicately devours the fish and nuzzles the catnip, before scraping it onto his cushion and rolling joyously in drugged satiety.
"Perfidy! Malfeasance! A dozen toms came to my territory to steal my fish and terrify my servant" - the tom here refers to the fishmonger and her wares. "But with my virile stench and mighty claws I chased them to the moon. As I returned, I spied a monster creeping out of my territory," the cat's disdain is palpable. "It offended my eyes, so I did not look long nor deign to remember it's ugly features."

Cats lie. Most likely this one scared off one rival at most, took a walk to the harbour, and came home. The monster is intriguing, though - perhaps a Spirit of some kind. A filth-spirit crawled up from the sewers, maybe.

For Meti

"Holiness," the guard bows. "An hour ago the novice of this temple came to our watchouse in tears, saying she found her mentor slain in the temple. She is no calmer now, but waits within. We have cleared supplicants away and kept out the curious, but we have not stepped inside."
That is typical and proper - wardens know better than to disturb a crime scene before a Guardian arrives.

For Pearl

As you mount the steps, you can hear her. Screaming in agony, trapped in the instant of her death.
The smell reaches you next, and you suspect what you will find.
The temple is normally filled with glittering treasures, carved beetles of jade, dice and knucklebones, sacrifices forfeit to the Rattling Lord.
The novice, training to be the next priest here, sits wrapped around herself and weeping silently just inside, and does no notice you in her grief.

The dead priest...

Her blood and viscera splatter the walls and desecrate the altar. Her corpse is torn and twisted.
As you focus, her ghost resolves into view - she screams, she cries, her chest opens in a welter of spectral blood as she falls to meet her corpse, and the cycle repeats.
You will need to exercise the grace of your Goddess to ease her suffering and compel her to speak before shepherding her to rest.
 
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Chaundra does not rush, nor worry about weaving around the early morning folk who take advantage of first pick of the day at the market. The body will still be there, the guards are capable of protecting the scene, the other members of the tribunal are as capable of seeing it and learning from it as she. Her distinctive and well known mask acts as well as a squadron of guards to part the bustle of the crowd ahead of her. Arriving at the scene a minute earlier will not make the Jade Cicada priest any less dead. Making herself frantic will not increase her ability to discern what had happened, and it is likely that they have three days before the next loss, given the brief pattern that is emerging. No, it does not do to scamper. There are more benefits from proceeding at her own pace.

Upon arrival, she continues at that same pace past the guards, up the shallow stairs, and on into the temple to convene with the tribunal. She does not so much as flinch at the sight of the carnage. It is wretched and sad. It appears to Chaundra that the killer either went out of their way to be especially violent. Simple predators don't make a mess like this, animals are generally tidier in their hunting. She does bring her robed hand to her face to shield herself somewhat from the stench of death, it's somewhat distracting. She does a slow, methodical turn in place to absorb the scene in as much detail as possible and commits what she can to memory.

Now to the bereaved novice. Chaundra does not get very close, she cannot disturb the scene yet, they still have much to learn from it.
"Child," she speaks, softly but still with a clear ring of authority. She doesn't intend to order the novice about, but she needs to get her attention and bring her back to the present.
 
Ceda smiles and steps forward to rub the tomcat's belly as he rolls in the catnip. It takes a small feat of will not to coo at the tomcat and tell him how cute he is, but she suspects Chaundra will want something slightly more substantive than, "There was a really cute cat at the crime scene," and so she resigns herself to putting a modicum of effort into her assigned task.

"Your grace, a terrible monster has been stalking the city these last few nights. Scarce few have the strength of spirit to stand in its presence; even great heroes can barely stand to look at it for more than a moment. I have heard of your great exploits, though, and when I learned it had passed through your court a faint hope was kindled in my heart that you might have succeeded in gleaning some important detail where so many failed. I will understand if it was beneath your august notice as you forced it to flee your streets, but I, nay the whole city, would be indebted should you recall anything of its nature."
 
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The sun shone down warm upon her skin as Anahita made her way through the marketplace towards the Temple of Jade. Normally, Anahita would have enjoyed the trip to the marketplace and smiled at the soothing sound and scent of the sea. But today there was no sense of such pleasantness. Only a sense of sorrow and a growing dread.

When word had reached her that yet another of her sisters had been murdered, Anahita could sigh with sadness. Being a Priest serving the Goddess of Fertility, Anahita naturally held a dislike for death even though she knew it was only another side to the same circle she served. But this death felt... unnatural. Someone was stealing life.

When Anahita arrived at the Temple, it didn't surprise her to find Meti, Pearl, and Chaundra already here. As she passed the wardens, Anahita patted one of the men on the shoulder and spared him a kind smile. His wife was expecting their first child and growing close to her time. Anahita might pay her a visit once this horrid business was dealt with.

"Was there any other visitors to the Temple before the Priest was found?" Anahita asked the warden Meti was speaking to. Anahita gave her dear friend a smile of greeting before turning back to the warden.
 
For Anahita & Meti

The warden offers a short bow to the Rain priest.
"Herald, we know of no others to have come before us."

For Chaundra

The girl looks up at you, surprised, her face flowing from the mild shock of interrupted thoughts to holy terror at potentially offending you.
"H-holy Spinner!" she shambles to her feet and makes signs of obeisance with shaking hands.
"F-forgive me, I was-" Her face is tear-stained and drawn. Brought back to the world, she glances at the ruin of her mentor without thinking, blanches, shudders in a fresh tide of weeping.

You can see the faint golden traceries of her Fate flowing from her body into the world, joining the web. An indelicate hand could push her closer to suicide. The wrong decisions, weeks from now, would shatter her faith. You can see the way and know your approach will be correct.

For Ceda

The cat purrs and writhes and regards you with one half-lidded eye. Reflexively one paw bats and curls against your wrist.
"It smelled of the ocean, and spirit-stuff - but it was not a spirit." he divulges, slowly, between luxuriating in your attentions.
 
Pearl takes a deep breath as she spots the novice visibly upset. Her chest grows heavy when she glances over and watches the priest's ghosts reliving her death over and over again. "Goddess help me....this never gets any easier" she thinks to herself as she places her right hand over her heart. Her eyes gaze upon the mess on the wall. She closes her eyes again as she senses the fear in the room, her chest getting heavier; one of the few burdens empathy brings.

She takes another deep breath as she opens her eyes and turns her head to try and make eye contact with Meti. She notices that Anahita has arrived and is also speaking with the warden. The smell of death begins to get overpowering and grabs pearls attention. She looks back down at the body and kneels next to it as the ghost continues its cycle. She reaches into a small black drawstring bag made of pressed velvet. The red satin strings were hanging from her belt. After some rummaging she pulls out a match, incense resin, and a small bowl. She breathes deeply as she places the resin in the bowl. She exhales slowly as she holds the bowl and sets a flame; waiting a moment before slowly blowing out the flame. She moves the bowl horizontally over the body from toe to head before setting the bowl down gently.

"You poor soul... I am here to set you at ease. What you have experienced here must have been dreadful..." Pearl starts softly as she gazes upon the ghost of the young priest. "..but it is over now.. and you have been separated from your physical being". She pauses and watches carefully with soft eyes.
 
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Her friend comes to join her, and Meti gives her a faint smile in return, hardly perceptible. Amanita has asked an interesting question, certainly; perhaps they could ask the same question to the novice inside. Chaundra appears to be talking to her right now, however. After she is done, Meti will talk to the Priestess of Fate (and perhaps the novice, if she had more questions). She'll also have to examine the crime scene.

"Have you seen any suspicious or odd individuals come to gawk at the scene?" says Meti to the warden. "Anyone who stood out in anyway?"

The methodology of this murderer (or murderers: this could be a group working towards some perverse goal) points towards someone who wanted their crimes to be noticed. Criminals like that have a habit of gloating about their crimes or taking trinkets from their victims to relive the crime. And the most foolish—or the most arrogant—occasionally return to the scene. Though, if an organization is behind these murders... their motivations are likely different.

Meti knows better than to fall too deep into speculation, however, and she tucks those thoughts into the back of her mind.
 
Chaundra removes her hand from her robes, then folds it around the novice's shoulder, gently clasping. "Peace," she intones, like the ring of a bell at prayer. She moves her hand to the novice's face, cupping her chin. She wets her thumb on her tears as she strokes it once across the ridge of her cheek. Her mask does not show her expression, but one might imagine it being tender and meaningful. "We mourn with you, we come to attend to your mentor here and bring justice," Chaundra tells the novice, her voice steady and meditative, nearly hypnotic. "Breathe, continue to mourn, but breathe and clear your mind for the time being so that you might aid us," she insists. "Knowing what you have seen will allow us to grow closer to bringing about justice for her," she continues to explain. She turns her head so the face of her mask appears to gaze unflinching upon the mutilated corpse, offering respect by facing the carnage without recoiling, showing the novice that she does care for the one for whom she mourns. Whether she actually does or not, she keeps to herself. "I know, well taught as you are, that you are capable of this feat of strength."
 
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"Thank you, your grace. I am in your debt," murmurs Ceda, thoughtful. "Oh, you're so handsome, aren't you? Yes you are." She plays with the cat idly while she considers her next course of action, then regretfully turns away to return to her duty.

She accepts the cigarette holder from an attendant and takes another long drag, admiring her monstrous shadow - studiously avoided by the passing crowds - in the early morning light as the pleasant tingling runs to the tips of her fingers and toes and her pupils dilate. The irony of how much more beautiful and terrible was her shadow by the stark light of day was oft remarked by the ignorant; it rarely occurred to them that by night her shadow overran the stifling boundaries imposed by the sun to encompass the entire city, and there was little so beautiful and terrible as Coral City by night. Still, the sun was not all powerful, and what sort of Priestess of the Night would she be if she could be so easily contained?

She crouches and exhales a vaguely feline cloud of thick luminous smoke, wrapping it in the inky black cloth of her shadow before it can dissipate. It nuzzles her outstretched hand and purrs, its eyes shining with silvery light, its smoky form curling around her fingers as she strokes it gently. "Find the trail of the thing of night and blood that smells of ocean and spirits, but is neither. Follow it as far as you can, then return to me. Night guide you," she whispers. Its form blurs and shifts, dissolving into a formless ball of smoke that darts across the sunlit road into the shadow of a nearby building where it reforms into something loosely approximating the shape of a cat, glances back at her once, and then darts off out of view.

Ceda stands and yawns, stretching her arms high over her head, and winks at passersby enjoying the view. She can't quite return to sleep yet. If she doesn't actually tell Chaundra what she's done all of her hard work this morning will have been for naught. Her shadow clears her a path, first through the market crowd and then the line of Guardians surrounding the temple as it slinks up the temple stairs. She reaches out with her shadow to playfully nip at their heels as it passes, prompting them to jump out of the way in a most amusing manner to avoid contact. Meti was going to chastise her for playing with the Guardians again, but they were so cute and mmm just look at the biceps on some of them. She could tell which of the young men and women were taking their training regimen seriously, and favoured them with appreciative smiles as she passed.

As she enters the temple she spares a brief glance for what remains of the corpse; someone was playing with their food. Chaundra was clearly busy, so Ceda stands a polite distance behind her, one hand on her hip and the other holding her cigarette. "Closed casket ceremony, do you think?" she asks Pearl, the ghost of a small smile threatening to form on her lips.
 
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For Pearl & Ceda

The ghost is, with effort, saved from her suffering.
Her screams fall silent; the spectral uncolour of her being blossoms into the shades of life. She stands over her corpse, so close to solid even Ceda can perceive her.
She was not young, but the signs of her age are all laughter-lines and the eyes of a habitual late-sleeper. Strangely, so strangely - her chest remains splayed and bleeding, as in the moment of her death.
Clearly something as terrible as the mutilation of her body was afflicted upon her very soul.

"Ah... BeloVEd..." she says, her voice crossing the veil as if from deep water. "So iT Is... Please SENd me TO Him..."
Always an odd sentiment, even though masculine gods do need their devoted priests, too. They are not, after all, men.

For Meti

"None, Peerless Guardian," the Warden replies. "Only ordinary citizens."

For Chaundra

The novice listens, rapt, and you can see your words instill in her the necessary fortitude to proceed.
"Th-thank you, Spinner. I will do what you require," she says, and draws herself to her feet. She even goes an entire second without resting any weight on the stonework, and she hardly trembles. She even tries to follow your gaze to her mentor but-
Well. At least you have her full attention.
 
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Anahita listened silently as the Warden answered her and Meti's questions. She gave a frustrated sigh, though not towards him. Only ordinary citizens. That meant any number of person could have seen anything. Or nothing. They'd have a better time finding a needle and a haystack.

Turning away from the Warden, Anahita turned to step closer to where their murdered sister lay. She didn't want to look at the body, but she understood that they needed to find out what had happened.

Anahita hung back slightly so that she didn't crowd the others. She suppressed a shudder as she looked upon the corpse. As her eyes moved over it, Anahita tried to recall how there others had been killed. If there was similarities in the wounds.
 
Pearl kept a determined and focused demeanor as she chose to ignore Ceda's untactful choice of words. This was not the time nor the place for those comments. "Wait..before you cross over.." the priest gently interjected. She took notice to the ghosts chest, still open. 'how is it that even her soul is wounded...' she thought to herself as she stood in order to be at eye level. "Is there anything you can tell me about what happened here? About what you saw?" the priest said with a look of concern. She hated this part as she didn't want to force the poor soul to relive her end even more than she already has, but maybe she had some information that could help track down the killer.
 
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"Well done," says Meti to the warden. "Alert me if anyone suspicious approaches. Carry on as you have."

She notices the ripple through the line of wardens as Ceda approaches, though her neutral regard turns into subdued annoyance when the priestess toys with them. The wardens has a job to do, difficult enough without flirtatious attention from one so high. (The pun, in this case, is genuinely unintentional.) Really, Meti wonders (marvels) at how little separation Ceda has between work and not.

After one last scan of the perimeter, Meti enters. It appears that she's the last one to do so. She slowly makes her way around the scene, using her training and experience to investigate. Meti tries to find any hints the killer or victim might have left behind, though the latter is, of course, more Pearl's domain. She overhears Ceda's wry, tasteless comment about the corpse, and though her face doesn't show irritation (Time and place, Ceda!), Meti can't help but glance to the novice to check if she's heard.

Meti will have to question the novice, of course. She's not looking forward to it, but for the moment, she occupies herself fully in gleaning what she can from the physical evidence.
 
"Well done," Chaundra murmurs to the novice. "Your efforts are seen and appreciated by myself and our good, governing gods. Take a moment to collect yourself, discipline your thoughts. There is time to mourn, but much less time to apprehend the one who has committed this heinous act before they bring this carnage upon another. For the sake of your sisters, compartmentalize your feelings and come before the tribunal to state your findings," she instructs, her tone steady and somewhat hypnotic. She returns her hand to the novice's shoulder and leads her to the gathering of her... equals. Yes, equals, at least in this situation, she reminds herself. She further reminds herself that the sooner this is brought to an end, the sooner she can return to her temple and resume her usual, preferable duties.
 
Spake the Ghost

"I sAw... noTHing. It attackeD me from behind," she says, becoming clearer and more certain. "I was making my morning prayers and lighting incense when I hear steps and smelled something like rotting fish. Stranger still, I heard whalesong - faint and distant, that I thought it was simply the priests of Whale at the waterside. And then..." she shakes her head. "It stabbed me in the back and struck my head, snuffed out the few candles in here. It was large, and I think it could have been a man, but I'm not sure. He was... wrong."

And Her Apprentice

The novice visibly tries to compose herself, but she's transfixed by the shimmering vision of her dead mentor. No doubt waiting, as old habits dictate, for her superior to finish speaking with you before she does anything more.
 
Meti's perusal of the room reveals two troubling details. First, nothing was stolen or even disturbed. Second, this was an intentional desecration of the altar. Troubling. Compared to what she saw of the previous murder, the details seem different. The injuries are similar, but the other was carelessly done, a crime of opportunity and perhaps passion.

This, however... it might still be a crime of opportunity or passion, but that passion has turned cold. Vindictive. Focused. A change in perpetrator, or more likely, a change in attitude. Troubling, especially considering the spirit's description of her death. Whalesong... the last victim had been a Priest of Whale. Coincidence? Meti had heard of twisted minds who took trophies from their kills, but she didn't see any missing organs. Not that she was the expert. (A strange thought came to mind: was it possible for... whatever this creature was to take a spiritual trophy? Could that explain the whalesong? No, this was mere conjencture and had no place in a proper Tribunal investigation.

Meti stayed where she was and continued to watch the spirit and her sisters.
 
"Wrong indeed...Thank you, that information is helpful. May you rest easy knowing we will do our best to track him down. Your lawless end shall not be in vain" Pearl said passionately as she placed her right hand over her heart to show compassion to the ghost. "If you require my aid to cross over, I am here for you". She watched the ghost for a moment and then glanced down at the body.

She glanced back over to the ghost before kneeling down to get a closer look. She continued to shift her glance back and forth comparing the wounds on both the physical and spiritual beings. She had never seen something like this before, but she has heard about it. "Whoever did this had great strength..a death spirit perhaps?" she thought to herself as she continued to look closer. She noticed that the body was missing a couple ribs and the organs have been removed. She stood and glanced at her sisters and looked around the room from where she stood; paying particular attention to the altar. She noticed all the organs were present except for one. "Where is the heart?" Pearl said aloud.
 
Chaundra thought it somewhat crass that they poke and prod right in front of the apprentice, who is clearly struggling through shock. She touches the novice's shoulder again.
"Come. You need not see what follows, but trust that it is to further our shared cause," she instructs. Then she turns and strides at a stately pace back toward the door of the temple. Her robes brushes the floor elegantly in her wake, flowing in such a way that suggests a path for the novice to follow to guide her away from the grim scene.
 
Anahita frowned at their fallen sister's words as she listened in uneasy silence. This wasn't just some random murder, there was something more to this. Something wrong. The scent of rotten fish was what bothered her the most. Anahita hated the thought that one of her charges had done this. Perhaps she should pay a visit to the fishery, see if any workers had been missing this morning.

Still deep in thought, Anahita stood and moved away from scene, allowing Pearl to finish her task of sending the Priest's ghost to rest. She glanced up as Chaundra turned to leave, the apprentice following behind.

"Wait," Anahita said, her voice soft yet urgent as she moved forward towards them. She took the girl's hand in her own and tried to offer her a comforting smile, though her eyes were sad. "I wanted to offer my condolences. Is there anything I can do for you?"
 
The novice grasps Anahita's hand tightly, reflexively -like a baby- and trembles. And then seems to find her resolve.
"Thank you, Herald," she says, "you really are doing enough."
Of course, you know it would be prudent to check again later, perhaps at her home. Or visit her family, or the priest's family.
A death never affects just the dead.

Outside the sun climbs into the vault of the sky and casts light from the east - your right - as you leave, and the market is now bustling at full volume.
Up here, by the door, it still seems so quiet.

The novice turns to Chaudra and waits to be addressed.
 

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