Religious Intolerance

Misendeavor: The causeway gave the small band cause for concern, the lead man, a hulking figure whose monastic garbs did little to decrease his menacing aura. Steely brown eyes reflected the calm waters but revealed nothing of his thoughts as he looked over the distant dojo. With that he turned back to the rest of the group, all garbed similarly, ranging from the thin and weedy bald headed vicar to a tall sallow man who walked with a limp. 'Well she can't run from the Island at least, we have finally found the infidel.' A confidence to his booming voice, a smug righteousness.

Misendeavor: The first steps onto the causeway were cautious, the band leaving mounts and pack mules free-reined near the shore. They all appeared weaponless, the shapeless cassocks blowing about thick booted ankles as sea spray and wind whipped at the hems. Slick stones little problem for them though, cautious men, powerful men who knew not of fear, especially after one lone girl, who they'd already half crippled into blindness, her escape an oversight they couldn't permit, in the name of the Gods the accursed must be cleansed.

FlashGuardian13: In the distance, plodding along with feet bared against wave-kisses sands, a lone figure continues on his regular patrols. Though today he happens to make the island loop in a direction opposing that of his usual, just to be different. As Flash gazes to the distant land bridge, he can make out the outlines of several figures making their way along the slippery rocks against the sea of blue behind them. His eyes narrow in suspicion. "Odd ..." He stands there for a moment, surveying his new visitors for a time before resuming his previous course to the land bridge's end, trading his pleasant strides for inquisitive haste.

Misendeavor: The figures are striding now, unopposed by the narrow expanse of slick cobbles, balance perfect in each of the composed figures. A hawkish featured man near the back picks out the moving figure first, clear ice eyes narrowing as he watches the man move 'Looks like it's inhabited, and it's not the quarry.' His voice harsh as he speaks, yet they don't stop moving, soft smiles on their faces, prepared for greeting the man. They were after all the people of the gods, and were doing his bidding 'Good day!' Booms the towering lead man, hand held out in welcome as he comes closer.

FlashGuardian13: As the 'merry' band of walkers nears the end of the bridge, Flash slows his pace to stand and wait, eyes moving over their obviously religious garb, his fears somewhat alieved, though suspicion not fully quelled. "Good day, gentle sirs. Welcome to Redfang Island," he begins, bowing his head and chest forward slightly. "What brings your humble troupe to our fair island this day?" Flash's arms rest relaxed at his sides, sunlight dancing off the twin golden bracers that wrap about his wrists and along his arm almost to the elbows.

Misendeavor: There's an obvious hierarchy at play, the tall jovial leader, rotund yet muscular the one to step forward, the small patrition gentleman, and the hawknosed fellow behind him. Men of gods, by the beautific smiles offered, righteous men 'Well met, this Redfang Island we find ourselves fortuitously upon, it has a Lord? We would be honoured to speak with him, a matter most grieveous weighs heavy on our minds and added swiftness to our tired feet''

FlashGuardian13: A soft chuckle is heard from Flash, amused by the notion of Redfang having any kind of supreme ruler. It did come to his attention, however, that Redfang needed somebody to be the leading force behind what will become of this place, and many thought such a task should naturally fall to Flash. And so he accepted. Yet never in his wildest dreams had he thought he would be called 'Lord' ... he doesn't even look the part, what with his humble martial artist's garb. Gods know the spiky red hair plays the part as well. "Y-yes," he begins, doing his best to hide his amusement for formality's sake. "You may certainly speak with him. But for now, since you seek rest, we shall provide. Redfang is a home for all who are weary or troubled, so long as they do not cause further trouble for others. This place is sanctuary, and is governed as such by myself as well as others."

FlashGuardian13: His speech is a friendly warning, his words well practiced and much the same as he has given to countless other visitors. "If you'll follow me," he says quickly, turning to lead them all down the path that winds through the woods to the dojo at the heart of the island.

Misendeavor: They don't follow at first, studying the red haired gentleman intently, the several pairs of eyes all upon him at once, all with the piercing intensity famed 'Before we accept your welcome hospitality, MiLord, there is a reason for our unheralded arrival, we follow a dangerous criminal. Crimes of which still blacken the lands of our homeplace, a dangerous heretic who has killed, Milord, it is vital she be bought to justice' Fingers steeple in prayer, the men all looking troubled. 'Your Island is a beautiful place though, such wonderous environs for a sanctuary, I am sure it will be good for the soul.'

FlashGuardian13: At the leader's words, his eyes go wide. A criminal? Which 'she' might they be referring to? His mind courses over the list of women who have chosen to make their home here, in Redfang's protective grasps, and there is indeed a handful. Aislinn, Anwyn, Serielle, Jaia, Ishara, and more recently Sam. Flash's mind halts, blinking. 'Sam.' Of course, why wouldn't the church be after her, as a practicer of witchcraft? His posture straightens, trying to give as much diplomatic credibility to his words as he can. "A criminal? Well, that's a shame. Naturally, a sanctuary has rules of its own, and cannot abide by outside laws and jurisdiction. If justice is what you seek, then you will definitely need to speak with the 'Lord' of the island before any sort of inquisition is performed." Flash's gaze softens for the moment, though now his suspicious nature is on full alert. "If you'll follow me, please."

Misendeavor: 'A criminal, yes, though she may have changed her name and appearance.' A series of nods amongst the men, certainty a wonderful thing as they begin to travel after Flash, steps soft, the confidence of posture though undiminished 'There is no end to the jurisdiction of the Gods, Milord, and I am sure that any Lord would see the same, one guilty of such accursed crimes must stand before the alter of the Faithful and be tried. We know she has found respite here, and wish to peacibly seek permission to take her back to our Homeland.' Convincing words, sermonising with the zeal of a believer. 'We wish not ot make enemies, Milord, this Island is already offering us more peace than our months of travel in the creature's wake have afforded.' FlashGuardian13: Flash's eyes narrow and dart to their corners towards the three zealous individuals, yet unseen by the three at his back as he moves casually along towards the dojo. "Your case will not be easily heard, I am sure," he warns them. "If this one whom you seek desires amnesty and respite here, it is not likely she will be released to you. Unless, of course, you bring new information against such a person that will give sufficient cause to have her amnesty revoked. But that is for our wise and handsome leader to decide." Flash smirks to himself, finding at least some enjoyment from this delicate situation. "And I doubt she will be allowed off the island in any case. Justice will either be performed here or sent away. Redfang is neutral. As such, outside disputes are, for the most part, left outside. We do not wish to make enemies, but those who come here must realize that neutrality often requires comprimise."

Misendeavor: 'You are the leader, aren't you. Milord?' The lead man again speaks first, the two others having split away into the forest beyond. 'Neutrality is all well and good, and we of course respect it as your way of life, but we cannot allow this girl to hide here when in our homeland the land still lays scorched and many still die from her curses.' That zealotry sparking in his dark eyes again, glinting as jet in a bed of soil. 'This dispute is brought here by necessity, not choice, we would have caught the scoundrel if she had not managed to find those to fool with her innocence.' Convinced, by the sounds of it, his men having silently faded away into the greenery. FlashGuardian13: Flash continues along, hiding the fact that he's been caught red-handed behind a casual shrug, pretending that he hasn't yet heard the man's accusations. "Like I said, it'll have to wait until you all reach the dojo. It matters not how she got here - she is here now, and therefore falls under Redfang's jurisdiction. The discussion shall wait until we have reached the dojo, where your partners can be attended to." Flash speaks of three men, yet hears only two sets of footsteps ... his and the other man's. And swiftly do the sounds of his own footsteps cease, whirling back to look behind him. Seeing only one man gives Flash cause for alarm, his gaze whipping about before sternly addressing the tall man. "Where are your companions?"

Misendeavor: 'They do not enjoy discussion as I do, and seek a quiet place to pray, it has been many days since they have been able to pray in solitude, most taxing for them, more so than the arduos travel' His voice holding the grave intonement of sufferance, head bowed sadly before he glances back to the Lord of Redfang 'They will join us at the Dojo fpr food and rest I am sure, they will know where I am, we always know where are Brother's are. It is a gift from the Lords for our work in their name.' Fingers steepling together a moment. 'There will of course be tea? I have so longed for a hot mug of tea all this time.' The man unconcerned for the other's alarm, his calmness soothing.

FlashGuardian13: "They seek solace for prayer so urgently, when we are only a few steps from a shrine where their prayers may be heard in peace? Your god must not believe in patience ... nor in the hospitality of others." Flash scowls, clearly displeased by this, and not taking another step until he is satisfied. "I cannot abide this affront to our generosity. Either give me a better reason for their departure, or I suggest you call them back now so we may all make our way to the dojo and welcome you as guests properly." By the displeased look on Flash's face, it is hardly a suggestion. Fists clench nervously at his sides, those golden bracers seeming to glint slightly even without the aid of sunlight, archaic patterns etched upon and around their surfaces and plain for any to see.

Misendeavor: Just at that moment a thin trailing wail of surprise breaks the tense silence, a cat, only a very angry and perhaps even hurt feline could make that sort of death-defying racket, the sound a warning for the sudden slam of Anwyn's consciousness hammering against his like a raised fist to a locked door. Panic, horror and revulsion flashing in bright, migrane colours, too much fear to clearly pinpoint the girl, her psyche's scream blanketing the whole of the Island. All the while, the tall witch hunter stands impassively, fingers steepled at his front as if in prayer 'They pray with action, Milord, by the doing of good works, as they carry out now in his name.' Dark eyes catching the glints from the braces, to become gilded and clear.

FlashGuardian13: Flash winces at the emotional burst, yet he knows its source and of course allows it entrance. Between what he now feels the sound of the cat, how could he not? He concentrates, trying to send words back to the troubled soul and seeking clues amidst the chaos as to what is happening. 'Anwyn? Where are you?' Eyes half lidded briefly alight on the other individual, malcontent lit like a fire between the two of them reflected dangerously in his eyes. "I believe you and your companions have just outworn your welcome," he says quickly and clearly. "If your companions do not return to my sight immediately, I will be forced to remove them from the island."

Misendeavor: 'I believe, Milord' The man, still a pillar of Dogma and calm, bowing a little to the form of Flash 'That any welcome we may or may not have is immaterial. 'Sense for them, as I know you are able...' His expression, the barely veiled hatred he holds for the psionic powers of the red haired Lord, and the man himself 'Think yourself lucky I have chosen to overlook your own devilry, Milord.' Spite spat in the vitriol of his righteous voice. There's only silence from the Island now, the wail of the cat cut off suddenly, to leave only the beat of the waves on the shore. All is silence, even across the flaming links between the lovers, static as fierce as any scream. FlashGuardian13: Fear rises in Flash at the lingering silence, something between the stillness surrounding him and the oppressive words of the eloquent man of God before him seeming to push in at him from all sides. Even his false accusations of Flash's abilities seem to bear down upon him. Flash takes a moment to steady himself, eyes closing slightly as he brings his arms up to fold about his chest ... only to disappear into thin air with the sound of a brief burst of wind, a sound that is echoed directly to the side of the priest, Flash's foot lashing out in a debilitating snap kick, intent on knocking the priest unconscious rather than truly causing him harm.

Misendeavor: The Priest, or at least, the Witch Hunter falls to his knees, head bowed towards the dirt of the trail 'The actions of a heretic, of he who does not understand what he does. May you be forgiven for sheltering the Witch, and for striking a man of god.' Groggy voiced now, rocking on his knees before falling flat forward onto the trail. The resounding thud echoing in the silence as the round man causes a small puff of dust. A baleful mewl cutting through the silence again, reedy and upset from the expressive beast somewhere on the Island, not too far from the closeness of the sound. FlashGuardian13: Flash pays no heed to the zealous words of the priest - he knows precisely what he is doing, and it's something that he swore he'd never do. For in the training of the martial artist lies a dark and secret power, one which lies between the strands of life that keep a person's heart beating and lungs breathing ... only the masters of the art learn to master this terrible power, and fewer still use it. But Flash is desperate and outnumbered. He kneels over the unconscious form of the priest, laying a hand upon his back briefly and closing his eyes, focussing his ki and imprinting his intentions upon the psyche of the still form of the cleric. It is, of course, possible to resist the subtle vibrations of the spirit caused by Flash, though this would be more difficult without conscious thought to oppose him by.

FlashGuardian13: If Flash is successful, the vibrations should linger within the priest for twenty days and twenty nights, and at any time within that span he may invoke the dreaded power of the Touch of Death. That done, Flash opens his eyes, ears, and senses once more to search for the one whom he cares for, the real object of the men's animosity. "Anwyn ..." His voice is pained and silent as he speaks the name.

Misendeavor: The pure white so often associated with Flash is not in sight today, no, from his hand comes writing spectral serpants of black and red that chew their way through his aura and can literally be felt to chord about his lungs and heart, constricting a little to keep in place, lingering in the hot pit of his chest, waiting for a word, a thought, no opposition from the soul of the misguided Witch hunter who still lays prone and unconscious. There's still no reply from the woman, from the source of love and vibrancy that's so readily shared with the man now dicing with death in the name of her life. 'Fvlash...' Almost as silent as his own voice, lost on the breeze that carries that baleful cry of the silver grey tabby that now limps from the treeline to face Flash, her voice in spirit...

FlashGuardian13: Flash can see the cat, at least. "Smoke!" he calls, rising and moving over to place the injured feline within his reach, yet only touching. A darker touch quickly turns to light, and as Flash focusses there can be seen several rainbow tendrils snaking forth through the air, reaching comfortingly for the cat as he channels his spirit again, this time to heal whatever wounds Anwyn's feline companion has withstained as he wraps it in his own, short ranged rainbow blanket of warmth and comfort. His voice reaches back across the connection where his spirit touches with the cat's. "Where is Anwyn? Show me, please ..."

Misendeavor: The cat, it's distress tangible, wraps itself around and around in a figure of 8 about the tall man's legs, the friendly face so wanted. Even with a bloody coat though the beast purrs loudly the moment those familar rainbow tendrils touch, basking in the warmth known so from his Mistress. Tail flicks to the communication, the cat, stepping into the treeline, a silver flash in the darkness as it takes off at a run towards the shore...Reguardless of the lingering injuries. Anwyn. Her presence was close, weak and thready, like a candle in a black box.... FlashGuardian13: Flash dashes after the cat, able to keep pace with the nimble little beast only with the best of agility as he ducks and dodges the thick foliage in his way, actually leaping over a small wild hedge as he goes. He is guided not just by the cat, but by a presence he can feel close at hand just weakly. Fear rises in him as he searches madly for any sign of Anwyn, mindful that the other two 'holy' men are still somewhere nearby.

Misendeavor: The loam of the forestfloor soon gives way to the rolling dunes of the beach Anwyn loves so much, the roll of the waves audible above the softer sounds of forestlife now. The silverdash of the cat not letting up...Leading the desperate man following closer to the shore, where two figures can be seen, one cowled and tall, one on their knees, a vivid fall of fiery hair hanging over their bent head to pool on the sand. Arms twisted cruelly behind it's back, a heavily booted foot clamping wrists at it's spine to prevent movement, from the slump of the figure, dressed loosely in practise robes, consciousness seems to be an ebbing thing, ranbow tendrils to give her away as feint as sunlight through stormcloud, timid little ribbons clinging to her as a sheild, though the 'Holy' man towering over her seems to be...breathing...them in. FlashGuardian13: Flash watches the pair from a concealed spot, hidden in the underbrush, eyes narrowing as he tries his best to fight back the ire rising in him at the sight of this crook, this despoiler of the sanctuary. But then, on a sudden whim, he changes his mind. No, he watches and continues to watch, letting his rage build up within him, welling up like a ferocious beast crouching before the pounce, until at last the tension is too much to contain ... and promptly explodes forth from his forward thrusted palms in a burst of concussive force directed straight for the foul minion. "Kaaaahh!!!" Should the blast connect, it should strike with roughly the force of a wrecking ball at half swing.

Misendeavor: There's a burst of sound and colour, pure white light and the sudden crystal spectrum that meets the rippling force of Flash's burst and wars between the two groups, only...from the tensing of concentration on the tall man's face it isn't Anwyn who controls her power, no, indeed, from the further slump towards the sand, the way those pure, powerful tendrils of hers are breathed in through the nose of this 'Holy'man and out like a shout through his mouth to fight with Flash's energies it seems she's not in control at all. A tapped battery leaking fluid. FlashGuardian13: Flash feels the force of his raging spirit breaking over an equally opposing force, like two poweful bursts of wind colliding in a swirl of power before dispersing. This startles Flash to no end, his attack slowly subsiding as he rolls to one side, hoping to escape whatever backlash may be caused by the reaction, stumbling to his feet and hands raised in defensive posture. Something definitely isn't right here, a fact which is making Flash very uncomfortable. "Release her," he orders, though by his raised palms it is more of a warning. Yet his heart hopes to sneak words of hope to his love even in his fierceness. 'Anwyn, please hold on!'

Misendeavor: The booted foot of the monklike figure removes itself, the bruised wrists of the flaming haired young woman sliding forward to impact into the sand, limp as the girl slumps forward after them, released like a puppet with the strings cut. The barest flash of a dark collar seen about her neck, hematite from the glint of it, the tendrils of her spirit seeming to curl about the metal ring as if pulled by a magnet, bleeding out towards the towering figure to be breathed in, sampled like fine wine. The rolling storms of fighting spirits roll on between them, a wall of impenitrable force, the sight of energies that should be combined so at odds almost painful. 'Well, well...Look what we have, her valiant Lord Protector failing already.' His smug words smokey with her power. Misendeavor: Though, from somewhere, no where, everywhere the wind about Flash drops to nothing, just so the whisper of her voice, speaking his name as a mantra, as the only thing to hold to 'Flash.'

FlashGuardian13: Flash is far from intimidated, holding his defensive posture. "I have not yet begun to fight," he explains to the unaware, a further warning of the hurt that is in store should he fail to cooperate. "You'll need more than stolen power to keep the likes of me at bay. Now, I asked you nicely. Let her go, or things will get ugly. Very ugly." His senses are still tuned to all that is going on around him, not wanting to miss a step or beat. His eyes fall back to the place where Anwyn's cat rests, as eager to defend her master as he is. And, Flash thinks, perhaps the noble creature deserves such a chance after all.

FlashGuardian13: Flash calls to the cat with calming words and beckoning spirit. "Come, Smoke ... I need your help."

Misendeavor: The cat's amber eyes gleam up at Flash torn away from the prone body of his Mistress by the words spoken so earnestly. Silver furr rises on edge as it spits distaste to the would by Cleric, taking slinking steps closer to the man he already begins to think of as a worthy Master. 'So...' Comes the purring voice of the cat into Flash's mind, cultured and genteel 'What must be done, and how must I do it?' Waiting calmly, even as those attuned senses of Flash's will pick up a movement off in the trees, like radar pinging. The hostage-taker though still looks unimpressed by the bravado of the red headed man, his togue clicking against polised teeth 'You would not hurt me, as I will just defer the pain...And you don't want her to suffer...do you?' A matching hematite ring can be seen on the ring finger of the man's left hand 'A demonstration, perhaps?' Misendeavor: A thin stilleto blade fed out from his wristholster, then a slow line cut down the back of his hand, the wound healing as it cuts...Only to appear on the back of the hand of the slumped form of Anwyn, a tiny little mewl of pain bringing the spark of awareness with the flow of blood. 'Ugly, eh? Milord.'

FlashGuardian13: Flash's eyes dart behind him briefly, scooping up the cat once it comes close enough and carrying it away to one side, slowly stroking his fur in a calming manner, rainbow tendrils of his own brushing up against the cat ... and all the while lacing his potent magical energies around its body in preparation for some sort of reaction. Mentally he speaks back to the cat, explaining, 'I will give you a gift ... in return, I'll need you to help me fight this man, but do so with care. Whatever you do, do not kill him ... just disable him.' His speech to the cat helps distract him from the painful show that is put on with blade and hand, Flash closing his eyes and steeling his nerves. "I thought such parlor tricks were blasphemous against your god. You worship hypocrisy. Again we are even ... if you kill her, your leader dies as well," Flash retorts.

FlashGuardian13: "Even now he is bound to me, and I may end his life at a whim. Be smart. Let her go, and leave. This is your last warning." And then, a change of plans. 'On second thought ... there is one other in the woods nearby. I'm sure you can smell him. Keep him occupied for me.'

Misendeavor: 'It is not a parlour trick...I have bound the witch, she is powerless until the judgement is made, and I will use her blasphemous power to see she is brought to justice for her crimes, give some good use to powers summoned of evil. ' The blade has vanished again, but the cut on the back of the girls hand still seeps blood that trickles to stain the sand. 'To die for the cause of good is a valiant death, I will not deny him that if it is the will of the Gods, he will be rewarded at the right hand of the table of the justice's for his sacrifice, I will not bend to evil to save myself or to save him.' An empassioned speach, even as he manipulates tendrils of Anwyn's rainbow to hoist her aloft, suspending her like a trussed carcass in midair. Misendeavor: Meanwhile, the purring, or is that growling, cat that strokes his cheek against Flash's chest as if trying to offer support seems to nod, stretching out in the man's arms under the warmth of the magical energies '>As you say, So will be done, I know where the hawkface is in hiding, I can scent him as sure as if were day old salmon>' A purring confidence again as amber eyes pinpoint a tree off to the distance. FlashGuardian13: Flash tosses the cat back to the earth as the reaction slowly begins to trigger, slowly transforming what was once a cute housecat into a fearsome predator of substantial size, with a sleek muscular form and vicious claws and teeth. That done, Flash can now focus on the man standing before him, sighing and shaking his head as his gaze falls to the earth. "Tell me, sir ... what do you know of this witch? What evils have you seen her do?" Even as he asks this, brief flashes of memory belonging to a life not his own light up in his mind, of Anwyn's tortured past.

Misendeavor: The cat's purr becomes a growl as it lopes off, sleek musculature making not a sound as the roar of the now silver tiger booms across the forest, an issuing squark from the missing Priest as he's located, then the laughing chatter of a rookery of birds as a tree shakes, obviously being climbed. Another roar, followed by another squeal...One man occupied it would seem. Back to the matter at hand though, Anwyn. She's still suspended limp, arms trailing to drip blood from her injured hand. Curling stands ofher hand hanging like a curtain to pool crimson in the sand. As Flash accesses those bitter memories a jolt goes through her, electricity throbbing to curl her fingers, before she goes limp again...All those memories surging along with the tide. Then comes the voice of the Priest, his face torn into horror 'The witch? What did she do...Ruined out country, brought plagues..Summoned demons...I saw it...'

Misendeavor: ... Creatures began to speak and flames burned blue...Everywhere she stepped chaos befell the world. Everything she looked upon burned or crumbled...We had no choice, she is a witch, a spawn of the devil himself. Her mother disowned her, claiming she was taken against her will by Satan to plant this child as his seed...' The 'Holy man' rants a little, spinning the prone form with the force of his words, his vitriol dripping like bile. 'She must face trial.'

FlashGuardian13: Flash counters. "She was a frightened child. Frightened by the likes of you and your short-sighted religion! Gifted with tremendous potential, yet unable to control it. And why shouldn't she have feared, with all the talk of damnation and devilry you placed into her head? You filled her head with talk of hell and nightmares ... and so her fear brought her nightmares into reality." Flash opens his arms wide, encompassing the stillness of the island in a grand gesture. "Look around you! Do you see any such taint of destruction upon this place? Where is this curse that she should bring to plague this island? Show me if you can, for I do not see it!" Flash lowers his arms, staring back to the man and awaiting his answer.

Misendeavor: There's another chorus of roars and squeals, the little cat turned big seeming to prove more than cat enough for the task charged him, though it distracts neither man from the locking of eyes, Flash's words hitting his resolve as a tidal wave to a flood barrier 'She has tainted your heart, by the sound of it, her witchcraft woven you about her finger...Is that not destruction of it's own kind...You defend a murderess. Yet you stand there and speak of her as if a Saint. Is that not witchcraft?' He seems confused though, less certain, eyes darting about the beauty of Redfang.

FlashGuardian13: Flash's demeanor calms just a bit, catching the faintest hint of the man's doubt. "I too have killed countless times to defend myself and those I hold dear? Would you not do the same, even as I do so now?" He speaks now with compassion for the man's task at hand. "I understand your desire to uphold your god's will ... to take and eye for an eye, and put an end to the destruction that has plagued your homeland." Flash again looks behind him. "Anwyn has been with me here for months now, and this island is just as beautiful and prosperous as the day I found it. Is that not evidence enough that the curse of fear that plagues her is no more?"

FlashGuardian13: He continues. "I have touched her heart, and I have seen her past. She wasn't just afraid of all of you back then ... she was afraid of herself. She felt guilt at the destruction she caused. She felt sorrow for those she hurt, knowing it was her but not being able to stop it."

Misendeavor: The man yet again pauses, grief spilling over his features, turning from the imploring man to the girl suspended by her own power, the guilt she still feels trapping her easily enough. Gently, she is laid to the sand, the man it seems not deaf to the words, or the emotions shown him, nor to the blind fear of the child earlier, she knew the faces that loomed from the dark 'She did not strike us down...' He realises it now, that she did not fight back when he took her power. Misendeavor: He had seen the ferocious might she was able to bring down with not even an action, yet she had let him bind her without a word. 'I do not know what to do, now, Milord. All the words you speak hold true, yet I am charged to uphold the laws of our land, I am charged to bring her for trial and for crimes she did commit.' From the girl there's movement, eyes flaring open, heat pouring from her form in rolling waves of fear and confusion, fingers clenching and unclenching...Yet the collar seems to still have the control.

FlashGuardian13: Flash cannot help but stray his eyes to where Anwyn lays upon the sands so helplessly. He unconsciously takes a step in her direction as a single short rainbow ribbon makes forth from his body in attempt to reach her, to lend her strength from the connection they both know so well. He remembers, however, the other gentleman that now stands between them, like a knife plunged into a unified heart and cleaving it in twain once more. As such, he stops, and continues with more words. "Perhaps a trial ... would be the best course of action. Let the others see what she has become. Let her make amends. I have calmed the demons of her heart ... and now, as much as I regret admitting and wish it were not so, it seems she must also face the demons ofher past." Flash looks now to the man bearing the ring.

FlashGuardian13: "But if we are truly to be civil, then the laws of your land as well as mine must be respected. There will need to be give and take from both sides. As I said before ... comprimise. Redfang is willing to make sacrifices in the name of this woman's well being."

Misendeavor: He shakes his head, grief carving his features waxen as he looks from one to the other 'They would not understand, not as I do, I have...touched her power by the means of control and I know she loves you, Milord. I know now, you have made me see it, that she is...Not the same woman. But others will not care, blame must be placed as is human nature.' Flash's words calm the man yet more, silence descending for a moment as he thinks, as he runs through his options. In the meantime, the girl splayed in an ungraceful heap on the sand stirs again, her head turning to look directly at Flash, right into his eyes, the vibrant green spilling with tears but as her lips try to form words only rasping air comes out, the collar visibly tightening. Now though comes the tiger..dragging a struggling, wimpering man by the cassock, the cat looks mightily proud of himself if truth be told as he deposits the man as if a mouse by Flash's feet.

Misendeavor: A bolt from the blue comes to the now leader, the man stood between the lovers, a single word 'Banishment...' Waiting for the reaction as well as watching the hawkfaced monk cower from the tiger...muttering about not letting it eat him.

FlashGuardian13: Flash seems pained by the other man's beginning words. "People will always fear that which they do not understand, just as one is afraid to walk through a dark alley at night. But light can be brought to even the darkest of places, provided those there have the faith to trust in it." Flash takes another step or two forward, eyes upon Anwyn and pained for what she must be going through, even while feeling his own pain as that of a limb which has been severed, a numbness where once there was such life and vibrance. His hand reaches out as he kneels at her side, his spirit reaching out and almost finding her, lips trembling as he watches her suffer. The comical display from Smoke distracts him but briefly, Flash sparing the proud hunter a brief grin of satisfaction before looking back to Anwyn's captor with a sudden smile, though he wonders if Anwyn would also agree to such.

FlashGuardian13: "Banishment," he echoes, looking deeply into Anwyn's eyes and searching for her feelings.

Misendeavor: Her dry lips are parted again, still trying for that voice of hers, rasping as she smiles, the smile for Flash, for her lover. For fighting for each other, after all nothing else truly mattered. The depths of her eyes convey more than words anyway, pools of crystal tears shed not for loss, but for gain. Tendrils of that warm, familiar spirit of hers flaring deep in her gaze, a deep, gasping breath as the magic of control loses power over love 'I am home...' Her voice soft, but there, hand trembling as she reaches for his. The Cleric looks..dumbstruck, the ring upon his finger crumbling from rock hard to dust, picked up by the wind and tossed about to fall harmless to the sand, a prayer slips from his lips, matched by that of the Tiger's mouse. 'Gods have spoken. It is done, punishment will be banishment, Milord.' With that...he moves to help his friend up. FlashGuardian13: What's done is done, and Flash no longer cares for anything that the others might do, his spirit leaping forth even as he pounces upon Anwyn's weak and fragile frame, pulling her up into his arms as cloven spirits again find union, their strength overcoming all odds and obstacles to find one another once again. "Oh, Anwyn!" he whispers, clinging to her, his relief knowing no bounds as his longing for her safety washes over her spirit, his lips flittering all over her head and face like silken moth's wings to her flame, hands cradling her head against him.

Misendeavor: The girl is still wearing the shining black mercury neck collar, but she doesn't even seem to care, nothing holds a match to the completion of just being held. The blissful joy of kisses, a hiccup that falls between a laugh and a sob breaking from her lips as her arms fly about his neck, clinging to him, the overwhelming warmth, the pristine brightness of her spirit swarming his to merge and mold and tower about them in a flash of golden light. Her skin tastes of salt, moist from tears, the moisure giving the seeds of hope water to root and grow and now unfurl as she sobs into his shoulder. The rest doesn't matter, the men can stay, or go, or go to hell for what is mattered to her at this moment. Flash. There was only Flash.

FlashGuardian13: And to Flash, there is only Anwyn. All the rest just seems to fade away in the midst of the overwhelming torrent of emotions felt by Flash and Anwyn together, both of their fears chased with reassurance that things would be alright, their hope shining outward brilliantly as a nimbus of light that shines like the sun. A last thought of fear made known to her, 'I thought I was going to lose you ... I was so scared ...' A tear or two winds down Flash's own cheek to merge with hers, even as his spirit merges and finds its place among her own. And as the storm subsides, a certain calm is reached, the once raging waters of their turmoil now as serene as glass.

Misendeavor: Peace, perfect peace, a gift it seems now, the bloom of their love ever brighter, ever stronger under the trials of life. The girl curling herself deeper into his arms, even as it is now her turn to feather his cheeks with angelwings of kisses, reassurance even as she is reassured. Unafraid to give voice 'You'll never lose me, we are together, always.' And they were, spirits irrevocably tied in ribbons and bows, and beneath bonded with the unbrakable ever bending ties of love. Nothing else needed, or wanted, or longed for save what they have refound. Any fears of her own faded under the sunlight of his touch. Darkness would come and go, but Flash and Anwyn seemed set to endure.