Giorgio, Sachiro, Charles, and Fredrick
Sachiro sighs. "Perhaps you should show me what it is you found. Pardon me if I sound rude, but you two seem rather indecisive about the whole thing...and you barely talk," he motions to Shaun.
"Now, what exactly have you found in there?"
As Charles approaches the group, Sachiro nods, "Ah, another to our group."
When Charles asks the question, Sachiro begins to contemplate, "Hmmm...actually he left a while ago. He didn't say anything really, just something about not being needed or such. I imagine he is outside playing his guitar somewhere for money."
Zala's group
Mother Superior laughs as she watches them go in. It would not matter if they kept the secret of the saint, no one believed the stories, except for those who lived with her, of course.
The church seems a great deal more cramped as they head inside. It would seem that the nuns live a cramped and simple life. The hallways are thin, and some people will find they have to duck through the tunnel. It is a long and twisted way to the Saint, and soon you realize that you may not be able to find your way out on your own. The crumbling edifice is a labyrinth of very old-fashioned and poor design. Soon, the group arrives at the door, where the young nun knocks meekly.
She turns apologetically, "She doesn't usually get visitor's, and only Mother Superior spends much time with her, so this is a warning to make her a bit more comfortable."
There is no response from within, to which the nun nods, and opens the door to the tiny cell. Within is what looks at first like another young nun rocking in a rocking chair. She does not regard the intruders, and continues rocking steadily in her chair. There is only a simple, small bed with wool sheets, a single nightstand and a candle to light the windowless room.
Something about her, especially to the older members of the group, seems distinctly out of place. Her frame is very small, and her skin is a fair deal darker than that of the local people, though not as dark as Zala. She is beautiful, but in a slightly exotic way. Her nose is slightly flattened and her jaw-line is strong. Her eyebrow ridge is curved into deep set, sparkling gray eyes. The suggestion of wispy hairs around her head suggests something lighter than her skin She does not look like any race you have seen before.
The nun begins her genuflection to the saint.
Njord
Njord wakes up in a cell underground...somewhere. The florescent lights blink uncomfortably above his aching head. Several guards mill about outside his cell, chatting idly about their families. You realize you hear a knocking from the next cell over, and you hear someone whisper through a small hole in the right wall, "Oi, you awake?"
