Damascus heard the voice from inside the shop and chanced a glance out the window, his ears perked and his attention fixed momentarily on the priestess. Her words did little to stir him- travelling as much as he had, faith was something that he had found was a very personal thing- but her confidence intrigued him. It wasn't often that he had seen anyone actually give a sermon in the square. In fact, the last person to do so had been his half-sister, and that had been more of an angry reproach to the people of their city than a call for faith. Judging from the response Tarin was beginning to get, however, it was obvious that she must have known somewhat what she was talking about. And in actuality, Damascus knew that she did. After all, this WAS Tarin. A small grin came to his face as he watched her. She was so amusing at times.
"Damascus?" the shop-keeper questioned, holding out the ranger's change to him, an inquiring expression crossing is features.
The sound of his name brought Damascus out of his trance and he snapped his attention back to the old man. "Sorry, Smitty," he said, taking the small pouch being offered him. "I must have spaced out."
The old man laughed. "Spaced out nothing, youthful Master. You know I know you better than that. There's something about Miss Tarin that you-"
Damascus flashed him a grin as he picked up his pack to leave the shop as he interrupted the old man. "Aye, you do. But you don't know ALL that goes on in this head. And alas, I haven't time to share it with you. I have places to be and people to meet." With that, the elf left the shop and stepped out into the street, watching the girl with growing interest as he meandered through the crowd. For years he had watched the Order become more and more prevalent in the lands, and at first he had hated it. But as he had wandered and talked with more of the priests, he had come to understand them a little better. Meeting Tarin had only served to improve that- a little. Although in truth, it was the priestess herself that the ranger found his interest in, more so than her doctrines and principles. The same could be said of any of the group, in fact. Though he had spent YEARS wandering alone, in the short time that he had known this small group he involved himself in, he found that he had become attached to them, and that in itself was saying something.
Thinking of the other members, he chanced a glance around, looking for Chalgrish. "Where in the name of the Powers HAS he gotten to?" he wondered aloud as he gazed around the crowd for the figure in question. He was careful, however to keep one eye on Tarin, just in case something should happen. Like in the last town... Damascus shuddered to think of that crowd, pitchforks and all. Just to be sure, though, he mad his way closer to the front and stood a couple of rows back from the priestess. You keep up with those gestures and people are going to begin to wonder if you're preaching or giving a shadow puppet show. he mind-linked to the girl, chuckling a bit. When you've finished, however, we DO need to go meet Chalgrish.
_________________ "And these children that you spit upon
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultation
They're quite aware of what they're going through"
--- David Bowie
Last edited by Dragyness on Sun Nov 20, 2005 10:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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