The Quest
You push open the door and walk in, closing it in Sarin's face, cutting him off from you. You don't feel relieved just yet, though. The High Priestess *has* summoned you, of course, and you *did* choose to keep her waiting.
The High Priestess, Clarise, reclines on a soft couch. Her black hair is braided through with strings of jewels, a symbol of how high she is in the temple. Her white robe is made of the finest silk, and belted round the waist with a cloth belt.
Next to her, you are uncomfortably aware of how you must look in your brown, hooded cloak with your hair tumbling untidly around your face.
"*So* good of you to finally come here," Clarise purrs. "I trust your duties were not too strenuous in the temple?"
You flush at the barbed words. Clarise always manages to get under your skin, and she enjoys it, too. That much is obvious. You feel even more awkward when you see the two other people in the room.
One is clearly recognisable as the King. He is dressed in his robes of state, clothes which look like they must be making him extremely uncomfortable. He is also wearing his crown, which looks as though it might be too heavy for him. His golden hair and beard have clearly recently been plaited.
Feeling your face grow even hotter, you hurriedly curtsy to the King. But your attention is mainly held by the man standing beside the King.
His ruggedly handsome face is framed by wavy black hair which seems to keep on falling into his hazel eyes, which are staring disconcertingly at you. Briefly, you feel something tug at the corner of your mind, but it flees when you try to study it closer.
Clarise waves one hand lazily. "Sharon, may I present to you His Royal Majesty, and the traveller Aril?" Her eyes are shooting daggers at you, and you briefly wonder what you have done wrong now.
"Have you heard of the disease that has been attacking my subjects?" the King asks you. Without waiting for an answer, he plunges on, "Many are dying. A cure *must* be found. I have asked Aril to do so, and he has specifically requested *your* presence."
-Why would he do that?- you wonder. -I am sure I have never seen him before in my life.- But you don't say anything out loud. It does explain why Clarise seems to be so annoyed with you. She would probably have preferred one of the priestesses loyal to her to go with Aril.
It is perhaps Clarise more than anything else which prompts you to reply, "As my King commands, so will I do."
"Why don't you stay the night here?" Clarise suggests in a deceptively sweet tone which immediately sets off warning bells in your head.
Aril glances at you, clearly expecting you to make the decision.
What do you want to do?
The High Priestess, Clarise, reclines on a soft couch. Her black hair is braided through with strings of jewels, a symbol of how high she is in the temple. Her white robe is made of the finest silk, and belted round the waist with a cloth belt.
Next to her, you are uncomfortably aware of how you must look in your brown, hooded cloak with your hair tumbling untidly around your face.
"*So* good of you to finally come here," Clarise purrs. "I trust your duties were not too strenuous in the temple?"
You flush at the barbed words. Clarise always manages to get under your skin, and she enjoys it, too. That much is obvious. You feel even more awkward when you see the two other people in the room.
One is clearly recognisable as the King. He is dressed in his robes of state, clothes which look like they must be making him extremely uncomfortable. He is also wearing his crown, which looks as though it might be too heavy for him. His golden hair and beard have clearly recently been plaited.
Feeling your face grow even hotter, you hurriedly curtsy to the King. But your attention is mainly held by the man standing beside the King.
His ruggedly handsome face is framed by wavy black hair which seems to keep on falling into his hazel eyes, which are staring disconcertingly at you. Briefly, you feel something tug at the corner of your mind, but it flees when you try to study it closer.
Clarise waves one hand lazily. "Sharon, may I present to you His Royal Majesty, and the traveller Aril?" Her eyes are shooting daggers at you, and you briefly wonder what you have done wrong now.
"Have you heard of the disease that has been attacking my subjects?" the King asks you. Without waiting for an answer, he plunges on, "Many are dying. A cure *must* be found. I have asked Aril to do so, and he has specifically requested *your* presence."
-Why would he do that?- you wonder. -I am sure I have never seen him before in my life.- But you don't say anything out loud. It does explain why Clarise seems to be so annoyed with you. She would probably have preferred one of the priestesses loyal to her to go with Aril.
It is perhaps Clarise more than anything else which prompts you to reply, "As my King commands, so will I do."
"Why don't you stay the night here?" Clarise suggests in a deceptively sweet tone which immediately sets off warning bells in your head.
Aril glances at you, clearly expecting you to make the decision.
What do you want to do?