There was a strangely thudding, awkward knock on the door to Pia's bedchamber.
Puzzled, Pia went to investigate, then smiled warmly. "Come in!" she invited.

Fel stood there, carrying a tray--a heavy one, from the way she sighs as she sets it down. "Truly, I ought to have taken them up on having one of the brawny boys carry this for me. Tch. Hindsight…" She smiles slightly, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear, indicating the tray with her other hand. "Tea, cups, and…I asked for cookies, but I have no idea what kind they are."

"Doesn't matter; cakes, pies, and cookies are always a treat," Pia replied, setting the small table and drawing up the straight-backed, delicate dining chairs. "Is your room as pretty as this one? I feel positively hedonistic living here just like a grand lady, waited on hand and foot." Pia chuckled, "I know it won't last, but enjoy the moment, eh?"

"Indeed." Fel's smile is warm, honest. "My room is…almost the same." She deftly sets cups, saucers, and tea things out, after a rather different arrangement. She lifts the lid, examining the arrangement of cookies, somewhat warily. "I only hope…ah. No. Safe. No chocolate."

"Don't care for it, or is it that chocolate doesn't like you?" Pia grinned. "I like onions, but don't dare touch them."

For a moment, Fel looks surprised, then she shakes her head. "I forget, after what we have been through, that you are, for a human, very young. No. Chocolate and I get along well. I prefer, however, to share it with men." She shrugs. "Or a trusted friend, for a few hours idle pleasure…" Her tone picks up a low, sensual purr for a moment, then she smiles. "But that was not what I came to talk to you about. Tea?"

"Oh, yes, please. A pleasure long denied," Pia agreed, eyeing the steaming pot with eager anticipation. "Is there something special about sharing chocolate with men?"

Tea is serious business, at least for Fel, and there seems to be some sort of careful ritual in the way she arranges the cups, and carefully pours out the steaming, fragrant liquid. She doesn't answer until she's finished and set the pot back down, again with that same careful sense of ritual, and turned each cup so the handle faces precisely the right way.
Then she sits down, and considers the question. "Special…? Mm…I suppose that depends on the man, and how skilled he is in bed."

Pia grimaced, barely repressing a shudder. When she regained her composure, she said haltingly, "Before I discovered my vocation, my mother would speak of the joys of matrimony. She said they included the connubial bed, and that she was blessed to have a husband both strong and gentle. He was always very tender and particular in his attentions to her, so I…I suppose intellectually I can understand how one might wish for…uh…I'm not sure…making private time even nicer? Is that what you mean?"

"Yes." Fel considers that reaction for a long moment before things click together, and for a moment, Pia sees the ruthless warrior-priestess under the silver-soft façade of the healer, and she nods, slowly. "Men can be very nice. Some of them are little better than animals. Put an animal in a position of power, and…" For a moment, her smile has edges. "Well. Part of our new mission is to see that such animals have us for their last sight, is it not?"

"Yes." Suddenly Pia's eyes blazed with hatred, her voice grew hoarse, and her smile became feral and frightening, despite her diminutive size. "I killed them, you know, but even with my personal vendetta satisfied, I realised there was so much more god wanted me to do." It took her a moment to calm herself again.

Fel nods, and takes a deep breath. "It is said the hells have no fury to match that of a woman wronged. I believe the false priests are about to learn what that truly means." She sips tea, gathering serenity about herself like a cloak. "Which brings me around to my real concern. Pia, little sister… you are reckless." She looks up, setting the cup down carefully. "I understand hatred. How easy it is to allow that hot rage, that need for vengeance, for blood to avenge that which has been lost; how easy to let that take over." There is a thread of it in Fel's soft voice. "I have been there."

"Reckless? How so?" Pia asked, taking no umbrage whatsoever at the criticism, but curious to know what had prompted it.

Fel considers how best to answer this. "Attacking the guard, when Blackerly came for you in Branderscar." She says, finally. "Reckless. A fine strike, but too soon--and had he not been charmed, possibly a fatal error on your part."

Pia smiled and shook her head. "Actually I weighed my options quite carefully. My sister--my family--believes I am dead, and I am content to have it so. That way I will bring no shame upon the kin I love so dearly. Father Massie outsmarted himself with that lie…in any event, I had no reason to expect aid from any quarter, and I thought his tale of a sister a mere ruse, that I would tamely go to my death, trusting as a lamb trotting behind the shepherd. But I am no lamb, I am the Lion of Mitra, dedicated to destroying the corrupt and evil clergy and their minions that bring shame to his name. I had merely hoped to go out fighting, in service to my Lord."

Fel smiles, accepting Pia's logic. "Yes. However, dead, you can do none of that." She sits back a little. "Patience, little sister. Patience will show you their weaknesses, the best place to strike and the right tools to use to bring down every last one of those faithless animals. It may also show you allies where you might not have seen them--men and women like you, with true faith." She looks thoughtful. "At least, so it has been for me."

The little religious bowed her head contritely, "You are right. In truth I am guilty of sin, for I doubted my Lord. I had been praying for deliverance if it was his will…and he sent me Tiadora. My doubt in his power was almost my undoing."

Fel nods. "We are none of us perfect, little sister. Older I may be, and perhaps wiser, but I have put my feet wrong too. Learn from your mistakes, and do not allow your shame to prevent you from that learning." That has the air of a quote, something Fel herself has been told often.

"I am penitent, not ashamed. Shame paralyses, true repentance energises, strengthens the will to go forth and do better. I will rely on his grace," Pia corrected gently, not arguing, just explaining, then added impulsively, "I'm so glad you stopped by! I've missed having a friend I could really talk to…a sister by bond if not by blood!"

Felosii nods. "That was something my old mentor told me--often. He was very wise, and quite clever," she says, taking no offence. "He also said that everyone falls sometimes. Not everyone has the strength to get up." Fel looks wistful for a long moment. Clearly, whoever her mentor was, she cared a great deal for him. Pia's impulsive words earn her a little grin, and a twitch of the ears that she'll eventually learn to read as agreement. "Yes. It is good." Fel thinks a moment, considering very carefully. "If you need someone to talk to--about anything, yes?--you can come to me. I may not be able to help, but I can listen."

"I am grateful for that." Pia grinned and reached over to lightly and briefly touch Fel's hand. "And likewise. If I can help you in any way, you need but ask."

Fel nods. While she certainly doesn't expect trust to come that fast, they'll be working together in the days that will follow, and if she is certain of anything, it is that the faithless ones will regret rousing their ire. "Whatever comes, we will not be alone. That will count for something."

The two women drank in silence for a moment, enjoying the camaraderie, then Pia asked, "Fel, why did you seem disgusted when I suggested Grumblejack eat the guard back in the prison? The guard was dead, and I've always heard ogres do relish human meat--it wasn't cannibalism or anything. Are you vegetarian?"

Fel sips tea, considering that question. "I am not, but that does not have much to do with it. I am an elf, and while I do not encourage waste, I do not lightly consider eating the flesh of sapient beings." She slowly and carefully runs a fingertip around the edge of the cup. "I have also heard that ogres relish human flesh. Given Grumblejack's reaction to the suggestion, if that is true--and I have not had a chance to ask him--it may be an exaggeration, or he has a personal preference for cleaner meat."

"The guards were almost as dirty as the prisoners," Pia conceded. She pondered Fel's words and nodded, "Lightly, no, but I hesitate to completely rule it out, if it were necessary, and that poor ogre looked to be starving. If he needed food to continue…well, better the guard than he collapse from hunger." She paused, debating whether to tell a secret, finally continuing, "I've always rather hoped to be eaten by something other than worms and maggots after I'm gone. Large cats or wolves, first choice, but birds of prey would be nice too."

Fel's long ears twitch--surprise, or just interest--and she eventually nods. "Not that we can choose what happens to the mortal frame when we are done with it," she murmurs, after a moment or two of thought, then she shakes her head a little. "From the looks, Grumblejack's state was not mere hunger. I believe he was poisoned, and I know he was tortured.

"The torture was tragically obvious, and I wonder if his 'crime' was more than being what he is," Pia commented sadly. "You say what I mistook for hunger was poison? What sort, and why? On the weapons when he was captured or since?"

"Ogres are generally considered--along with every other breed of goblin-kin and 'monster'--to be … how did he put it…ah." Fel's ears flatten. "A blight in the eyes of Mitra. Such filthy beasts should be wiped from existence, that our shining lord should be well pleased with all that meets his gaze." She delivers the quote in a flat, emotionless voice. "I believe his fervour misdirected. But that is a common mindset, where people like Grumblejack and his kin are concerned." She sighs. "From the looks of him, I suspect they dosed his food with a concoction intended to weaken him. There are a good many options. Which one of them was used, I don't know."

Pia's eyes flashed. "What absurdity…or it would be, if it weren't so vicious, so evil. Mitra made them; they already are pleasing to him; if not, he would change them. I hate the hierarchy who try to shape Mitra to their blighted and bigoted image, and hide their wickedness in the light of his glory."

Felosii grins at that. "I suspect their own gods might disagree. I remember a time when Mitra's voice was one of many, part of a rich harmony. Many temples and shrines, and all were welcome, from the least to the greatest. Talingarde is a poor shadow now, of what it was under the rule of the Barcan line." She sighs a little. "I suppose some might prefer it as it is, but I have seen the fear, the poverty, and the cruelty, and I am not sure it is as good as they claim."

Pia shook her head. "Oh, no! Mitra is the creator! That's what he does! That doesn't mean the other gods are not important, or don't have their own vital domains; no one sensible ever proclaimed that any of them are omnipotent!" the little nun declared with earnest fervour. She bit her lower lip, searching for an analogy; inspiration or grace struck and she triumphantly explained, "Like a master builder! He made the barn, but how it's used is up to the god it belongs to. I think he loves all the things he makes--most master craftsmen do--but he doesn't own them! Ogres are right to worship their own gods, yet I still believe Mitra made them…perhaps to the exact specifications of the ogre gods."

Fel rolls her shoulders back in a shrug. She's not really there to talk theology. Still… "Perhaps. Not all will agree--it is a thing that differs amongst a good many teachings, and I am not sure any of them are 'wrong'." She thinks a moment. "My mother was a druid--a woman of deep faith, but not one of Mitra's. She was taught something quite different." For a moment, there is a deep sadness in Felosii's low voice. "If there is a right way--and I am not going to claim I know it--accepting that all have their place is probably a good beginning, yes?"

"Well, of course they do!" Pia said as if stating a truism. "There can be no doubt about that. Take magic; I know that is the domain of Asmodeus. Mitra doesn't have a thing to say about it. Or Erastil…Mitra has oversight in a general way--it is creation--but not in the guidance, the practicalities, of ploughing a straight furrow, or when to sow your seed. That's all on Erastil, and it's vital!"

Fel looks thoughtful, one ear flattened slightly, but she only nods. A good start, for one so young. It wasn't all that long ago that she was that naive, was it? "You are…mostly correct. But magic is not Asmodeus' domain. Like Abadar, Asmodeus values order. But where Abadar is content to allow his followers a certain amount of leeway, as long as they contribute to society and civilisation as a whole, Asmodeus insists on the following of certain rules, and enforces them as you have seen, via contracts; which are Mephistopheles' major area of interest. It is all woven together, intricately bound in a strange and wonderful tapestry." While Felosii herself is no teacher, she has the long-missed expertise of her old mentor to draw on, at least. "Mm. I beg your pardon--I had not meant for this to turn into a discussion of theology, as interesting as that is."

"Oh, I love discussing religion!" Pia reassured the elf, and thirstily returned to the topic. "Wait. Every reference I've been able to find says that Asmodeus is the supreme god of magic. Also, that he and Mitra share the domain of Law…which only makes sense, for else how can there be justice? It's like…the light is never so beautiful as when it's spangled across a midnight sky, and conversely, the darkness is sweetest when it comes as deep shade to shield against a brazen sun."

"Interesting. I was taught that magic is Nethys' domain--for the bane and benefits of the arcane arts stem from his teaching." Felosii looks thoughtful. "That Asmodeus and Mitra share the domain of Law is certainly true… I wonder if it is a result of the reluctance to admit that there are other gods. Many of the books used to teach now are sorely lacking in information on those subjects."

"Well, the modern corruption and debasement of his word is like that, but Mitra, in the old texts, certainly knows, and respects, other gods. He was thought to feel compersion, not jealousy, and was cooperative with his peers. I think my experience proves that he--and Asmodeus--still are; I am convinced that Tiadora, a servant of Asmodeus, was sent by Mitra to rescue us," Pia said refilling her cup. "More tea?" Conversation so animated was drying to the throat.

"Please." Felosii considered that. "I…am not so sure. But I am not willing to even guess at the will of the gods, my own or anyone else's. Trying to do so has paralysed far better than I with indecision, and that is a trap I am keen to avoid."

"I can see that," Pia nodded sagely, an expression almost comical on so young and ardent a face, and refilled Fel's cup before taking a sip of her own. "But I can honestly say, for me it has been energising, empowering…a gift of grace, if you will. I knew I was called to serve Mitra, to be his Lion and cast down his false priests, but…when I was captured I was near despair, not least because I believed I had failed him. Mitra has shown me a path--no! an avenue laid out before me--and in so doing has allowed me a glimpse of his ways. Just as we are comrades, I think he and Asmodeus have this goal in common."

"That, I cannot refute," Fel agrees, with a rather amused look. "Although I suspect that, had anyone told me, a month ago, that this would happen--even had Mephistopheles himself come to tell me!--I would have had a hard time concealing my disbelief."

"Likewise, I assure you!" Pia agreed, nodding so vigorously her hair bounced around her face. "That is, I mean if…oh, Saint Pia or another of Mitra's sacred messengers had appeared. But I will not deny the compelling proof before me."

That gets a giggle, a brief one, from Fel. "Quite. I suspect we will make a most interesting team. I hope, an effective one, considering the blend of influences."

"Well, if two gods had a hand in bringing us together…" Pia replied archly, letting the implications fall where they may, and grinned at Fel, ear-to-ear.

Felosii quirks an eyebrow, then nods, ears perking up like…well, like a cat that's well and gone pleased with itself. "Since we appear to be covering considerable ground, was there anything else you wanted to know? If I have an answer, that is--I only look like I know everything."

"Only a very rude and personal one," Pia replied, riding on the cresting wave of giddy good feeling and anticipation. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but--" she lowered and deepened her voice to a self-mocking jail-house whisper, thumbed in the general direction of Branderscar, and asked, "What wuz you in fer?" She let her tone return to normal and added, "You strike me as too clever to be easily caught."

Felosii raised an eyebrow, then she grinned. "Are you really sure you want to know? You might not like it." She's not especially ashamed of it--but she clearly doesn't want to upset Pia..

"Look, you have my back and I have yours. Yes, I truly want to know you--and all of our bound siblings--the good and the bad. Fewer surprises mean greater success," Pia assured Fel pragmatically.

"Fair enough." She can't really say she wasn't warned. "I consecrated the High Temple for them." Fel's slight smile turns feline, and more than a little evil. "The night before Solaramasse. Somehow, I doubt they would have got it cleaned up in time to hold the ceremony. Anyway, I got caught because there was a novice somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. I noticed him when he threw up--not neatly--in one of the flower pots."

"What…what did you sacrifice?" Pia asked in a small voice, trying very hard, and very obviously, to be nonchalant.

Fel considers her for a moment. "I take it you are familiar with Father Bennes? He has--had, I should say--an illegitimate daughter. A rather pretty child, with some very nasty habits. Naive, and in a fashion, innocent; she had no idea of the real consequences of her little games." Fel's lip curls slightly--her father's daughter, if it turns out Pia isn't familiar with the man. "A shame in a way, but for my purposes, perfect. A shame Bennes wasn't around for the trial, I might have found a reason to mention that little tidbit, had he been."

"What happened?" Pia's curiosity far outweighed any reluctance or revulsion she might have felt. "Uh…I have never heard of Father Bennes."

"You would not have liked him." Felosii assures her, with a dry sort of surety. "He…was unpleasant. Fortunately, not terribly fecund, although I understand at least a couple of his brats have found places, some of them fairly high. I believe the girl…mmh…what was her name… Ah. Charity…" A very tiny snort. "She was being groomed to advance his position. Might have been her idea--she was ambitious, as well as cruel. I had very little trouble convincing her that I could help her with that. She understood her folly when she woke up on the altar, I think, with the knife-point at her belly…" Felosii's smile is quite cold. "Far too late, of course."

Pia nodded, reassured. "No, they would not have been able to hold the ceremony," she said coolly, parenthetically. "The rites of purification begin on Wintermasse and must continue unbroken, building to a crescendo, that culminates on Solaramasse. For a High Temple…they might have had to rase the building to cleanse it. Well done!" She paused, frowning a little, and admitted, "I have one scruple that I hold sacred above all others. I will not, and will fight to prevent, spilling the blood of the innocent. Your sacrifice clearly did not qualify. In my eyes, that's an important consideration."

"A true innocent would not have been a proper offering for such a thing anyway," Fel points out, dryly. "If I am going to make an offering, it is going to be one that can be used, not one that will simply go fluttering off to somewhere else."

Cocking a brow, intrigued, Pia requested, "Explain? How was it used?"

"Cannon fodder? Entertainment?" Fel looks thoughtful. "I am not entirely certain what sort of use her soul would be, once bound to the nine hells. On the other hand, I am not a deity, either." She wrinkles her nose. "Nor do I wish to be."

"Oh, I see! Yes, the devils would have little use for the innocent, nor could pure souls be so bound. As you said, there are rules that must be followed!" Pia smiled, pleased to have grown in understanding.

Felosii nods. "Precisely. And devils are nothing if not lawful." Evil, but…they follow the rules. "Although they will find the loopholes, if you leave them any." That has the air of a warning, albeit a casual one.

"Doesn't everyone?" Pia countered, giving Fel an impish grin.

"Usually not in a fashion that will get you into more trouble, admittedly." Felosii shakes her head, chuckling. "Why do you think I checked that contract so carefully?"

"Because you are intelligent," Pia replied, amused. "I did the same, to the best of my ability, and I do think the accommodation Master Thorn granted was generous, and fairly straightforward, don't you?"

"His Grace," Felosii corrects gently. "Cardinal Thorn is deserving of that respect." She thinks a moment. "I have heard of some others who have tried similar uprisings--the remains of the Barcas, I believe, tried it once, just before I returned to Talingarde." She looks thoughtful. "I think. No one much wanted to talk about it."

"Does he prefer that?" Pia asked, surprised but in no wise abashed. "Well, I will call him so willingly in all due honour, if it pleases him, but such a title has grown so tainted by false clergymen that I thought he had distanced himself therefrom. He styled himself Master in the contract."

"The language of such contracts is often--if not always--bound by tradition. Either way…he deserves the respect due his rank, as both Cardinal, and…the man who gives us our orders." Felosii has to think a moment how to phrase that. "I will have to do some reading--I am familiar with the order of St. Marcarius. That order is not so much a martial one, though…"

"Of course," Pia agreed compliantly. "I was attempting to offer him greater honour, not lesser, for that very cause. After all, are not Master and Father the names we use to address our gods?"

"Amongst them, yes," Felosii agrees. "I am not certain of the exact quirks--I do not know His Grace, what he might consider appropriate, or not."

"We will have to ask. I imagine Tiadora will know," Pia agreed, then frowned in thought as she continued, "You mentioned the Barcas. Do you know if any remain alive? I think, if 'twere known an alternative is yet quick, that many in Talingarde would…not rally to our cause, but stand and delay, seeming to act whilst failing to act. The House of Darius is feared, not loved."

"Could be some from the elven line still live. I suspect all their human kin have been wiped out--it will be hard to find a true heir now." Felosii looks thoughtful. "Still, there might be one or two, well-hidden--half-elves are long-lived."

"Perhaps, as part of our mission, we--or some others, better qualified--will be permitted to seek them out. Provided it can be done without endangering them, of course," Pia speculated.

Fel nods. "I have--on the quiet--before I was caught, done a little research into the bloodlines. I didn't find much, but there was a great deal that I was not allowed to access, and I had little luck finding loopholes." She shakes her head slowly.

"Almost certainly Cardinal Thorn has better sources," Pia suggested. "My master--the one who found me after--" her face crumpled; she was hard-put to continue for several moments, and that only by veering sharply away from the still-open wound she'd unthinkingly touched. Her voice was constrained, roughened with emotion, as she said, "the one who taught me what I know is unimaginably wise and knowledgeable. He too belike has ways of finding them. Not all the old books and records, nor those who are living libraries, have been found and destroyed."

"Likely he does." Felosii's voice is soft. "And most likely, you're correct--they can't have found everything." She doesn't say anything, but her ears twitch in sympathy--she did catch that.

Pia nodded, then fell still and silent, head bowed, a grief-carven statue. It took an elf's patience to wait until she again found her centre, but when she did and looked up her eyes were full of adamantine purpose. "The House of Darius and their false priests will pay for the harm they have done, for the ignominy they have brought upon the fair name of Mitra. They will pay."

"Oh, most assuredly they will." Felosii's soft voice holds a web of adamantine, no matter she speaks quietly. "I doubt you are the only one who's lost someone--in fact, I am certain of it."

"No, I am very sure I am not. If I had been, then there would have been recourse, and evil as he was, as his accomplices were, their wicked ways could have been seen as a singular aberration in an otherwise just system. In truth, justice and virtue are abnormous," Pia declared stoutly.

Fel nods. "My turn for an uncomfortable question, I think. You don't have to answer, if you are not ready, but…how did you end up in Branderscar?"

Pia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Short answer, I'm a murderess. Do you want to hear the long answer?"

Felosii considers that. "For the same reasons you had…yes." She sits back--she has a suspicion, a concern, even, that she knows what kind of tale is going to result--if Pia can tell it yet.

Pia folded her hands and bowed her head, suddenly a little girl confessing her sins to her parish priest. In a small voice she began, "I had a vocation to serve Mitra as a religious. My family is very devout, in the ways that used to mean--piety, kindness, charity, compassion--and I wanted to devote my life to those principles of prayer and service. The day after my fourteenth birthday I entered the convent of the the Sisters of the Sacred Flame. It was…harder than I expected. Less devotion, more rules, with harsh penances for any infraction. Still, I persevered, believing that somehow the strict discipline, the unquestioning obedience, would teach me to better please my Lord. It taught me, all right…" She swallowed hard, and her voice grew less steady.

"Father Massie, our chaplain, summoned me one day, and naturally I complied, not even curious about what he wanted, expecting either to perform a task or to be reprimanded and punished for some unwitting sin. I knelt before him, as we'd been taught, and waited, eyes downcast. I was caught wholly off-guard when he grabbed me by the throat and choked me until I lost consciousness. I awoke naked and bound spread-eagled on a bench. He whipped my…my womanhood and inner thighs until I was raw and crying, and then he raped me. Repeatedly. When he was done he locked me in a cell." Her breath came in harsh sobs and she was trembling, but she continued, eyes staring, some inner compulsion driving her to confess now that she'd started.

"That…became the pattern of my days. One of his servants, Bettino by name, was charged with giving me food and water, and with bathing me when he wanted to use me. When he did I was bound and beaten until he became aroused, and then…penetrated. Often his servants would watch and rub themselves to fulfilment, excited by my pain. He impregnated me, but didn't notice until my belly started to swell and…inconvenience him.

"When I grew too large he stopped his violations. I was locked in my cell and ignored. Perhaps I was supposed to die of starvation. I don't know. In any event Bettino continued to give me food and water and sometimes fire when it was very cold. Other luxuries too--blankets, soap and water, clean clothes. He would fondle me, but he wasn't…he didn't…I was grateful. I let him."

Her words came in anguished gasps, almost incomprehensible through her tears. "Bettino helped deliver my baby. It was…I thought I was dying. I expected to hate his child, but somehow…he was mine too. And he was so beautiful…so beautiful. In the following days I learned to care for him…love him…" Suddenly aware that she was crying, she blew her nose on her napkin and dried her eyes. It helped for a moment. "I named him Solace. He had my father's nose and a dimple in his chin like my mother's. He was so good…he was smiling by the time he was four weeks old!

"Eight weeks after he was born Father Massie came back, accompanied by the Mother Superior. I had trusted her implicitly and was shocked to see her, but then thought for a joyful moment that she was there to rescue me. I…I…he looked at his son with revulsion and said, 'We can't have this,' and took out a dagger. I held my son tight, but Mother Superior snatched him from me by his feet, and cracked him, like crack-the-whip, the way you kill a chicken. And she laughed! She laughed and said, 'No blood to clean up my way.' I…grabbed the dagger and--I'm not quite sure how--I killed them. I killed them both. I slit Mother Superior's throat, but he I had gut stabbed. He was flailing and trying to rise, to scream, so I stabbed him again and again and again until he stopped breathing."

Pia was wringing her hands and rocking back and forth, her eyes wild, but as hard as her tale was to tell, remaining silent was harder. "I picked up my boy and ran, ran as fast and far as I could. I finally stopped in an orchard, several miles from the convent. There were new plantings, so the ground was soft and disturbed. I dug up one of the baby saplings, kissed Solace goodbye, and laid him there in the hole, then put the tree back, a marker and a protector for him…"

She fell silent for several long moments, but she wasn't done, finally resuming her saga a bit more calmly. "That's where Master found me. He…I know him by no other name. He said…something, but I was too distraught to comprehend, so he picked me up and carried me to a house. He…I was spent, and wanted to die. He could have done anything to me." An unexpected giggle bubbled to the surface, seemingly out of nowhere. "For a few minutes I did think he had no good intentions! He took my blood-boltered clothes, washed me all over, and began to suck my breasts. I…didn't care. At least he was gentle! But once I was completely drained he wiped his mouth, grinned at me, said, 'Waste not, want not,' and bound my breasts flat to my chest so my milk would dry up." She drifted into less painful reminiscence, weary and dreamy after so much intensity.

"Once I had recovered he began to teach me, not only how to fight, but why we must fight. We travelled together, eliminating those whited sepulchres pretending to be holy priests, men as villainous as Father Massie. We killed five before mischance befell us. I was captured, but I believe--I pray--he escaped." She sighed heavily, as one setting down a weight borne too long, and managed a flicker of a smile. "And that is why I do what I do, and why I was in Branderscar."

Felosii listens to this tale, at first calmly. As it progresses, her eyes turn to blue fire, and her ears slowly flatten until the overall impression is that of a very offended cat. They lift a little, as Pia nears the end of her tale, her ears almost look normal again, but her eyes still blaze. "I would not call that murder, little sister." Her voice is calm--the quiet of a breaking storm. "I would call it a very good start."

"A start, anyway, but there's so much more to do," Pia replied, smiling at her new-found friend, but with wistfulness in her eyes.

"Of course. But a start, nevertheless." Felosii extends a hand, wrapping her fingers gently around Pia's, if she doesn't flinch.

She doesn't; instead Pia's hand rotates, allowing her to return the soft pressure. Fel doesn't know it, but she (and far moreso Pia) have the Master to thank for healing that permits comfortable touch…and for so much more.

Felosii's grip is gentle, her hand cool and calloused. "Little sister, as far as I am able, I know I've said this…but if you need anything, I am here."

"A hug?" Pia asked meekly.

"I can do that." Felosii gets up, moving into reach. She doesn't move closer, allowing Pia to close the distance.

At a full foot shorter, Pia barely came up to the elf's collar bone, but she smiled endearingly up at Fel as she shyly wrapped her arms around her waist.

Fel just smiles slightly, almost sadly, and wraps an arm around her, aiming for comforting. She's trembling a little herself, shaking with suppressed anger and protective instincts. How anyone could do something like that to a sheltered little girl, an innocent…there won't be a faithless priest left standing in Felosii's wake after this.