Remaining on the periphery of the grove, Agnarr finds himself a spot to watch the gathering from, thumbs tucking into his swordbelt.

Lianne, southerner all in dark silk and a heavy cloak to fend off even the most delicate of autumn breezes, doesn't quite look like she belongs here, but she moves with ease and purpose which might tell otherwise. Wide green eyes take in the gathering and quickly find what they seek, guiding her steps toward Sigurd. Fingers touch at the back of his elbow in subtle notification of her arrival, even as her head dips in wordless greeting to Mydas nearby.

Merek's kind gaze seems to watch those that come around, and he settles in at the bench he is at. He takes out a small flask and pulls some water from it, before he places it back. He watches on with curiosity.

Signe's slippers crunch over dried, dead leaves and thirsty black earth on the way to a suitable spot for the gathering. Seeing both Sigurd and Mydas present, she shifts to land where both are, or at least in their middle and closer to one or the other. No animals come with her. Probably as a precaution of the condition of this place recently.

    Julea's expression is grim as she pushes hair from her face and takes in her surroundings, and in particular that large crack. It's enough to cause her to draw in a quick breath and her eyes eventually close. Her right hand falls to her side, fingers touching at the blade there. When her eyes open, it is to look towards the altar.

Sigurd turns his head slightly to Lianne, giving her a brief, fond smile at the touch and brushing a hand across her arm for a moment before his gaze moves back toward the circle, dipping a nod to Signe and gesturing her close, the Nightgold's standing firm outside of the circle and watching attentively with Lianne at his side. He doesn't speak, however, leaving them to their breathing and ritual.

Mydas turns to nod to his brother, wordless, quiet. He sees Lianne approaches and he gives her a respectful nod. Perhaps a hint of amusement in his eyes before the seriousness of the situation makes that fade. He nods to Signe too in silent welcome, and motions to the gathered circle in a silent query. Does she intend to join them?

Brahm, a large iridescent plumed raven arrives, following Morrighan.

Drea smiles faintly, "More people come and more energy fills this space." She breathes in and out quietly, then she speaks, "I called this gathering, a gathering for fellowship, a gathering for we the follwers of the old ways to convene." Her brow furrows and she speaks a little louder, "But then, something happened here, something that is happening all over. I wanted people to see, to know what it is we are facing, so first let me tell you about this grove and why it is such a sacred place, why it means something to all."

Tristram listens to the words spoken reverently and quietly.

Khanne opens her eyes on one more slow inhalation of breath. She lifts a hand to gently push back the hood that has kept her in shadows, and turns to watch and listen to Drea. Her demeanor is one of a steady calm, her eyes intensely focused and her body almost still. Lowering her hand to her thigh, she gives a nod to Drea in support and in interest. She remains seated on the dead earth, the cloak keeping her from touching it fully as she rests between the seated Drea and the standing Rowan.

Jasher strides toward the grove, steps only slowing as he gets close enough to start making out faces. Coming to a halt, he looks down at the barren ground a moment before gazing around at the stone monoliths. Drea's words slowly get his attention and he takes a few paces closer to listen and study those assembled.

Anze enters the Stone Grove late, just in time to catch Drea begining to speak and as he looks around and catches sight of him Anze get's a look of pure disgust at Rowan. "Blasphemer" he mutters under his breath though not so low people around couldn't hear. He moves to stand next to Freja, keeping his eyes focused and narrow on Rowan the whole time.

Muiryn eyes opened about the time Drea started speaking, leant up against one of the cirling great-stones of the Grove. Storming blue eyes watch on from his place.

Muiryn turns his head quick towards Anze, a sneer pulling at his top lip.

Diddanwch the Pine Marten arrives, following Asger.

    Julea draws towards the edge of her seat, her hand lifting up to wave towards Anze at the sight of him, but instead, the gesture faulters and she follows his look over towards Rowan, and then Muiryn, and back to Anze, brow arching.

Merek frowns as he looks towards Anze after a moment, his kind gaze gaining a momentary glint in it that seems to wash away after a moment. He shifts his leather clad hands to fold together, while he listens to Drea.

Taking off his hat, then bowing his head in an attempt to show respect, Agnarr remains right where he is, merely listening. Anze draws a glance, though, when he passes.

Freja laughs girlishly, the sound ringing like bells in the valley when she catches sight of Anze. "Calm, calm, we are to be! Though grass wilts, and dead the tree. We come to mend and to make peace, to make his blight finally cease." The typically cold princess is all mirth, giving her brother a hug before she turns her eyes back to Drea.

Thankfully it appears that Morrighan isn't the only individual who has arrived late, trailing in shortly behind Anze with a particularly large raven gliding after her. Her brows subtly lift at the gathered crowd, finding many familiar, and others less so. She pauses at the entrance, eyes shifting left, then right, assessing those present before she steps off, moving to linger with those at the back.

Monique offers a lifted brow towards Anze and his comment, then quickly reaches up to wrap an arm around Muiryn's. Giving the big man's arm a gentle squeeze, she leans into him briefly before straightening to focus on Drea once more.

Sigurd just waits with his family and Lianne, watching attentively as Drea speaks. Anze's comments get something of a long-suffering eyeroll, but nothing more lasting. All the new arrivals get a nod of greeting, and a faint smile for Morrighan as he spots her, but he keeps his position, eyes mostly for Drea and those participatring in the ritual.

Signe offers both her brothers the conservative tight-lipped smile and nod she gives the rest of the participants, albeit with a pinch more worry in her eyes. The laughter from Freja has her chuckling airily, though it doesn't last long enough to be heard by anyone else. Seating herself between Sigurd and Mydas in one position or the other, she levies a nod toward Lianne before pulling her legs in, crossing one over the other.

Lianne keeps still and quiet at Sigurd's side, her fingers hooked on his elbow, a small smile curling her lips which brightens a touch as Signe settles in nearby then dims again at the little din Anze's remark inspires. For the most part, though, she keeps her attention on Drea, taking in the story with open curiosity.

Muiryn doesn't watches Anze, only cutting away to Freja briefly for her laugh. The sneer doesn't settle any but at least Ryn keeps his mouth shut, leaning away from the stone when Monique takes his arm and steps in to stand behind Khanne and Rowan beside Monique.

Drea continues, "So you see, this is a special place a holy place, not just to we the followers of the old ways, but to us all." Her eyes open and she looks up to the cracked stone, "Though the blessing is gone, we seek to restore it, that is what this gathering has become; a gathering in the very place it has attacked--befouled. We will push back against it." She looks over at Rowan, "It is some of us that have tried to fight already and though it looks like the worst, this turns out for the best for the thing has revealed itself. Lord Rowan will tell you all what he knows."

Rowan looks up when he's called upon, and steps away from where he was standing, to a more central location to the gathered. To say he looks weary is a vast understatement, but despite it there's an energetic tense energy about him. He brushes one palm across another and clears is throat before trying to speak, to ensure what comes out is clear words rather than beastial sounds.

"For those who somehow do not yet know, I am Rowan Greenmarch, a shaman of the Greenwood. I was here." He nods to the earth and then continues again, "I was here and it was my energy and my focus that drew the attention of that thing which attacked this grove. I came here with a bowl of water and incense and I meditated on the nature of the storm and the nature of magic, the thing which is being gutted from our world, and which we will all - not only the spirits and the Old Gods - die without. I used the same methods I have in peering out through my spirit's eyes, or Walking as shamans do, the same method that I have used to take my spirit self into the Realm of Spirits and witness it. Meditation, and focus. No runes, no words. No blood."

He takes a moment to pause and recollect his thoughts before he continues, "Something took notice of me and it came. A green mist rose and withered all that lived around me before it took the shape of a great maw. It came at me, and it bit the stone. It laughed like thunder and rained blood over the Grove before it left. Later, when I slept, it visited my dream to taunt me."

There is another short pause before he makes a gesture towards Khanne and Monique. "Some few days past, I rode with others, Lady Khanne and Lady Monique, Lady Aislin and Lord Percephon and Princess Lou, to a grove that is healthy, that is home to a great spirit, an Old God, to where there are shav shamans who knew something of the Poison killing the Old Gods and the spirits. They called it a malevolent spirit, but there may be a break in translation, and we should not take for granted that it is, strictly speaking, a spirit. They called it the Great Poison, the Dark Eater, the Devourer, and I am certain it has more names than even that. They described it as a cloud that travels by its own wind around Arvum and makes frequent visits to Arx. It is this thing that came here and wrought this damage, I am all but certain, and it is this thing that we must put an end to."

Asger slips into the grove, looking over its state with a small frown. Crossing his arms over his chest, the man remains towards the back of the crowd watching the scene in silence.

Merek looks to Freja when she laughs, and then his gaze is back upon Rowan with his usual kindness. He then seems to quirk his brow at the words spoken, as if recognizing something within the words, he tilts his head. "... So that's..." He looks down, then back up.

Sigurd listens to all and sundry from Rowan and Drea, and there is a harsh, judgmental cast to his features at the talk of attracting the creature's attention. But he stays quiet, his own expression a dark, roiling cloud of anger and a touch of anxiety at the suggested action. he keeps an elbow for Lianne, but the other is hooked into his belt, fingering the cold steel of his long knife and taking deep breaths. He doesn't look well pleased, but keeps his peace for now with only a glance aside to his brother breaking his concentration for the scene before him.

Freja is speaking softly to Anze, though those nearby will hear at the very least a lilt in her voice, singsong intonation that rises and falls between hums and spoken melody.

Khanne watches Rowan as he moves towards the center, listens closely as he speaks, though she has heard the tale, and lived the tale herself. When he speaks of the maw biting the stone, her grey gaze slides towards the broken and scarred victim of such. She nods to him in agreement of his words on their recent travels.

Monique keeps hold of her uncle's arm, though not out of any delusion that she could stop the man if he wanted to move. She gives a solemn nod towards Drea for her words, then looks to her cousin for his. Her free hand reaches up to rest on Muiryn's forearm.

Frowning as he listens to Rowan, Jasher idly reaches up to run a hand over his hair as he considers what was said. At the conclusion, he looks around at the others to see their reactions to the tale.

Signe watches Rowan with silent intensity, nose twitching initially. As he goes along explaining all of his truth, her brows draw together and she nibbles on the inside of her cheek as she fiddles with the fabric of her kirtle.

Drea looks up at Freja curiously at her sing-songing during this and her expression says, "Stop!"

Mydas' own features remain unchanged upon hearing Rowan's explanations, though perhaps there is a slight tensing of his jaw. No matter, it's soon gone, and only intense focus remains. Only to arch a brow at Drea and Freja, and whatever's going on there.

Finally, Muiryn's eyes turn off from Anze and Freja once Drea called an end to it. Ryn watches Rowan with a lift of his head to his nephew.

2 House Wyrmguard Guards arrives, following Bianca.

Staring at the rock with a studious eye, Agnarr frowns, scratching gauntleted fingers into his beard.

Bianca quietly stepped between stones, having informed the diligent guards in her wake to remain at the very entrance to the Grove. She soon found a seat beside Merek.

Bianca has joined the benches.

Merek looks aside to Bianca when she comes, and whispers to her.

If Anze notices the return sneer from Muiryn, he doesn't let on, too busy glaring at Rowan, though at least his sister's words are heeded and he remains quiet besides Freja, listening to Drea's story and then Rowans. The glare doesn't end as Rowan tells his story. He grunts at the words spoken by Freja and then speaks up in return to Rowans speech.
"Selfishly, you snuck into this sacred place alone. Telling no one of your plans, an you claim you attempted to what? Summon a storm? Talk to tha spirits? I have prayed here as have a thousand other shaman, an none of them ever cursed this place to destruction. An yet you claim that some beast came an attacked you. If I believe your story on your face, then you're a selfish fool, an if I don't believe your story you're somethin far worse."

Muiryn checked composure against difficulty 15, resulting in 12, 3 lower than the difficulty.

Freja glances aside to Drea, eyes still unfocused but with a smile never waning. "He speaks the truth and now we know, the source for the pain to sow. I do not chide him nor wish him ill, but wonder now what is its will? Simply to devour and see us in despair? Or is there another purpose, to which we remain unaware?" She turns to Rowan then. "What did it say in your dream?"

Freja places a hand on Anze's shoulder, "Please, not here in this sacred place."

Muiryn goes pulling his arm away from Monique and goes to step towards Anze. "Not the time or the fucking place to go throwing that sort of shit around mate."

Lianne casts a look askance at Mydas not long after Sigurd, though her own expression shows nothing more than wide-eyed curiosity. That interest doesn't linger, gaze returning quickly to the rest of Rowan's words... and, in turn, to the one who challenges them. Her lips press thin as she listens, watches.

Monique doesn't let go quite so easily, dodging around to bodily step in front of Muiryn, wrapping her arms tight around his waist and stretching up to murmur into her uncle's ear.

Head tilting, peering at Anze and Muiryn sidelong, Agnarr briefly gives his gauntlets a check-over, posture a little more erect.

Merek looks to Muiryn even as Anze had spoken his speech, then the cussing had come, and he rubs his face a small bit, "Not much, just a lot of bickering," he tells Bianca. He then seems to debate whether or not to speak up. And he does, not that he thought he would, "Whether or not he speaks it out, the ill intent dripping from the words are still in his heart. I doubt, that after what has been said here, anyone is doing the place, nor the spirits, any good to keep it in or let it out, if there's that much hatred in some of you." For the first time in well, forever, he sounds /angry/ for some reason.

Whether he felt the attention or not, Mydas' gaze turns to Lianne as the others argue. He steps back and leans over to murmur something to her ear, his face still serious. His golden eyes stray from the proceedings, however, when he looks for his sibling and whispers something to her in turn.

Sigurd calls out, his voice tense and stern. "Negative emotions are only going to make this /harder/, both of you! Do you want this to be fixed, or not? Whatever Rowan did or did not do can be discussed later." He sighs, emphasizing the word 'later' firmly. "So let them proceed?" He doesn't look angry, just exasperated.

Drea stops looking at Freja, to nod at Rowan, "Thank you. This place was blessed, blessed by Petrichor himself. A blessing that may have been long gone, a blessing that we want to restore. That it would be best for us all to restore."

She looks to Anze and his sudden outburst, "We spoke of things and simple solutions, the simplest solution is to stop this thing."

She looks about her into the crowd, "Does anyone have any knowledge of this thing, this eater? Any information or knowledge would be helpful."

    Julea sits up all the more straighter following Anze's words, her right hand still resting on the edge of the bench and along side her thigh. Her gaze sweeps towards Rowan and those about him, clearly checking for their reaction. "The people of Arx have been manipulated and played so many times before. People wield us like puppets. And we so easily follow those tugs. How do we know that this is not some ruse, again? The demand to purify and kill the poison sounds an awful lot like the message the White Stewards were using too."

Rowan lifts his brow and considers Anze a long moment before remarking, "Your mind is clearly made, and no words I have will change it or do lessen your anger," with as much restraint as he can muster, which does leave a faint edge of growl to his words. He starts to move to reclaim his spot, to leave the meeting back to Drea's words, before looking towards Freja. He considers her for a long moment again before answering, "It told me that my ancestral spirits were delicious," with a cold detachment from the phrase. "The Old God of the Greenwood is dead, and nearly all the spirits are gone from it as well."

From her spot of observation towards the back, it doesn't prove overly difficult for the servant to spy Anze and Muiryn or note the tension between the two. She begins to ease her way through the crowd, weaving about the people as a streak of red, though her steps hasten whenever Greenmarch Lord moves forward. With her hand on the hilt of her blade, Morrighan sidles up to the man, eyes slanted up at him warningly, moving to position herself protectively between Anze and Muiryn. "Don't."

Bianca's brow lifted slightly as attention drifted from the whispers of Merek aside to the quickly growing tensions. Concern soon painted her features as Monique leapt between the two huge men. Then gaze went to Merek at his words... followed by a swerve to Julea. Her lips parted to speak in response, only to halt herself as the Greenmarch shaman spoke up.

Signe has both her hands full of her skirt, crumpled in her white-boned fists. Something startles her and she hastily looks up, releasing a sigh only when she sees that it is Mydas. She leans in to murmur something back to him, her expression troubled, blue eyes never fixed in one place.

When Morrighan makes her intervention, Agnarr grunts quietly to himself, right hand finding the grip of his own sword to ensure it's loose in the scabbard, though he does not draw it. On edge, he moves a little closer - but not really much.

Sigurd pats Lianne's hand and then squeezes Signe's shoulder gently where she sits in a reassuring fashion, slowly freeing himself from Lianne's grip on his arm in an unobtrusive fashion. He adjusts his belt, fully armored and moving a bit closer to the scene himself, but saying nothing else at the moment.

Khanne turns from watching Rowan to look then to Anze, to Muiryn, to all the others who begin to show their anger. She then stands, rising up fluidly from the spot on which she sits. She looks first to Julea and takes a deep breath, her eyes briefly going wide. And then, she says, loudly, "Stop! All of you. This is not the place for anger, for bickering, or for wild accusations. We are here to heal. All this animosity only creates deeper, more painful scars. Focus on the task at hand, at restoring that which was stolen from us, stolen from the poison that the Old Spirit spoke of in the grove we visited. Stop. Mind your emotions and put the fury to use for -good-!"

Lianne dips a deliberate nod to Mydas at whatever he murmurs, her own expression inscrutable. She offers no words of her own, but casts a concerned look down at Signe, studying the woman while the others work out their differences. The contact from Sigurd draws her attention back up his way, and she leans in a little closer to the man, her hand wrapping more securely about his arm.

Jasher's attention moves between Anze and Rowan as they spar verbally. Though when Merek speaks up, he looks over and spots Bianca sitting there. Walking over, he touches her shoulder briefly to get her attention but doesn't say anything, listening to the arguing instead.

Rowan plants a hand to Muiryn's chest and presses back against the man, rumbling some low word at the giant's shoulder.

Mydas remains by Signe's side, focused on their conversation rather than the conflict.

Muiryn's gaze keeps on Anze, teeth bared but for the beard his lip is hidden; a low growl ebbing in his throat still half a step to keep forward when Monique wraps herself into him. Then there's Morrighan, and somewhere in his peripheral are others. Ryn's only set to stop when Rowan pushes back with a hand planted on his chest. There's near wince and the old Stag draws up, keeping feet rooted where they are.

Tristram looks as if he's about to step up to Anze and say something fierce--but Khanne's words stop him. He takes a breath and says, "The enemies' eyes are upon us and it was not Rowan's singular act that caused this, but rather, it is the culmination of -many- things that the faithful have done to secure our survival and the enemy's reaction to that. You should apologize to him, Anze Redrain, for you have given insult where none should have been laid. Bring peace, if you're strong enough to do that."

Anze is still ignoring everything around him, staring at Rowan for a reply, and there it is. There is a snort. And then a look to Khanne "I -am- here for healin. But I wont let things go unadressed. Is his response to this really I wont say anythin? I think its a fair question to ask why he was here, why he didn't consult any other shamans, why he came to tha stone grove an not somewhere else. I ain goin to lift a finger to fight anyone in this place, an nor should anyone else, but if we want to talk about healin? THis place stood for a thousand years through generations, was holy to both tha spirits an tha southern gods, and its shattered. So we should ask these questions an not ignore them. I think askin what someone was here for is a fair question. I think ask tha purpose of what he was doin is a fair question."

Signe returns something under her breath to Mydas, gaze only landing on him a second before it wanders around the dead grove again, searching restlessly.

Freja makes no further effort to restrain nor calm her brother, seeing how Morrighan has interceded. The Redrain Shaman keeps speaking to Rowan. "Then it must be stopped, and I am sorry to hear of it." Her eyes are coming back slowly, and she blinks here and there as if re-focusing on what is right in front of her. "Do we have any further information of anything under those aforementioned titles?" She asks, her voice carrying out over the crowd, an apologetic look shot to her aunt.

Tristram adds, "You know, Anze, it *IS* possible to ask questions without being a dick."

    Having said her bit, Julea returns back to her silence, both her hands coming together over the tricorn hat in her lap. She toys with the braided leather trim, wearing at it as her eyes go towards Anze.

Whatever Signe has told him, Mydas freezes a moment, before leaning closer and whispering further, his full attention now on his sister, his eyes barely blinking.

Merek looks to Bianca, and takes a moment to nudge her.

Signe meets Mydas' eyes now, staring right into them before her lips move again, the colour drained from her face.

"Maybe if you kept your mouth shut mate, you might fucking hear what's being said and not go digging yourself a deeper hole. Didn't just start the night that sickness came and tore this place up." Muiryn barks at Anze.

Drea holds her hand up, "This is not a trial, but it is a fair question." She doesn't stand and appears to be trying to remain calm, "I only ask that this is discussed rationally so that we may move forward."

Bianca's attention lifted at Jasher's touch, a small nod granted to him in acknowledgment before gaze then turned to Merek after his nudge.

Sigurd pauses at Lianne's hand on his arm, stopping in his trek toward the confrontation, but turning to her curiously and murmuring something to her with a harsh cant to his words, although it doesn't seemed aimed at the southern woman. He doesn't advance any further, and soon his attention is taken by his sibling's behavior as well, eyes narrowing in suspicion as they flicker from Mydas to Signe.

Making his advance this time, Agnarr stops a fair distance away on the side Muiryn is on, forgetting about his blade as his pale eyes flick from the faces of those speaking, glancing upwards with a deep siiigh.

Khanne looks towards Anze and says, "it has stood, longer than Arx itself, but it had lost its power. The Spirits would not come, long before this evil took a bite out of stone. If you want answers, save them for the right time, the right place. This is not it. Not here, not now when we want to restore what was disappearing long before it was killed entirely." Her words are urgent, but her tone still fairly calm.

Sighing, Monique steps away from her uncle, leaving it to Rowan to hold the giant back. She sidles over to Tristram instead and leans up, murmuring something into his ear before looking at him with a raised brow.

The tense scene is probably not what Fiachra expected to to find when he enters the grove. His green eyes sweep around, and Muiryn's bark draws his immediate attention. He moves towards the members of his family, slipping around behind his uncle after making sure the other man sees him, and lays a hand on his shoulder. Sure, that won't physically stop the angry stag if he really wants to move, but that may not be the point of the gesture.

Asger still stands at the back, watching the arguments with a rather impassive expression nodding at the odd point Anze makes.

Freja sways a little and moves to stand beside the broken stone, grabbing her flask from her boot and slumping down against the pillar to sit. She drinks deeply but keeps a close eye on things, her eyes wavering between being present and not wholly there.

Mydas sighs, shoulders slumping slightly before he responds to Signe. He looks away, to his brother. He doesn't speak, his expression doesn't change, except for the momentary sadness that fills his eyes. Before it fades, once more hidden. He turns his attention back to Signe.

Merek makes a motion outwards to all the people, and lifts his brow, but does not speak much to Bianca, instead he turns around, and lets out a small exhausted sigh. He stands up in any case, and walks over to where the people are, mainly Anze, Muiryn, and those between, and he takes a moment to shake his head, before he looks to Khanne, then he speaks, loud and clear, "The woman is right. All this cursing and back and forthing will solve nothing, if anything, it might very well bring something worse upon us. Please, I implore you all, to at least sit and listen, not let tension take you over. We are all men here, we bleed the same red blood. No one's mistakes should follow them a lifetime. He meant well, whatever the case? We're in the here and now, and we must do what we can to protect the people."

Freja has joined the altar.

Merek checked charm + diplomacy against difficulty 15, resulting in 34, 19 higher than the difficulty.

Signe shakes her head at Mydas and tries to give him a reassuring smile, even if it comes out more sad with its intention. Her lips move again as she finds Drea and the others with her gaze once more.

Lianne's reply to sigurd is soft by comparison, calm and composed, only the faint lift of her chin suggesting there's any oomph behind them at all. Her attention follows his to Signe and Mydas, the pair watched with more concern than the more vociferous disagreement taking center stage. Her eyebrows draw together as she studies them, a frown shaping at that flicker of sorrow in those golden eyes.

"I came here because I have been meditating here since I arrived in Arx, because I have worked here with fellow shamans, because even if the spirits have long since been driven away or killed here, it is still a powerful symbol, and an aid in meditation. I did not -sneak- anywhere. I walked into this place as I have every other time I have visited, I have come and spoken with those seeking solace. You can dig, andyou can pry, but you will find no malicious reason or cause to my actions that is not born out of anything but your own pain and anger, because it simply is not there," Rowan returns. "I have served the Old Ways since I could speak and everything I do, it is done towards the singular goal of seeing them revitalized, strengthened, and raised again to protect us as they once did."

Jasher sits down on the bench next to Bianca, letting things play out in front of him without comment. While curiosity brought him, he's learning more than he originally expected that he would. And on more topics as well.

Jasher has joined the benches.

Somewhere during all of this, Sophie emerges from the periphery and makes her way to Drea's side, her expression disappointed (but not surprised) at the turn of events. "Mother Bear, my apologies for being late. I was unexpectedly detained at the House of Solace." Sighing a little, as she takes in everything, she quietly asides, "We might just need to send them to the wrestling pit to work out the aggression before they are capable of working out anything else."

Tristram meanders over to Drea, and Sophie, and mutters something to the older shaman.

Sophie's eyes alight on Anze, in particular. Be cool, Moose. Be cool.

Mydas shakes his head at Signe and whispers something else to her, eyes now fierce. "He won't have you." he speaks, louder than he intended. But he calms nigh immediately after, and adds something else, his eyes softening as he looks at Signe.

At least Muiryn saw Fiachra first, else he might have swung what with all the people about with weapons and not so impressed looks. Instead Muiryn looks back to Fiachra, a low rumbled sound from his chest heard, but no coherent words behind it. It's then, with a snort, the old Stag draws back a step looking between his family around him -- even Khanne and quiets. Hopefully.

"I was not tha only one to call for blood when this happened." Anze says in return to Rowan, looking around to the people here "some people right here in fact were with me in actively callin for tha death of what did this. This place was sacred, nah, is still sacred" There is a look to Tristram "an your right, I coulda been not a dick bout it" and a look over to Muiryn "an I coulda spoken somewhere else" and then a look once more to Rowan "but here, a gatherin of shamans and people who follow tha old ways? This ain a trial, you're walkin round free, tha high lords decided what they decided, but if I'm gonna trust tha ways things work in tha Greenmarch lands I had to hear it. An I ain tha only one who had to hear it either. Other people are nicer bout it, but I ain ever claimed to be nice. So, thats what this is. I wanted to hear you myself say it."

Drea speaks calmly, nodding in agreement with Khanne, "The point we are trying to make is this place is not as powerful as it once was. Something has been sapping the pwer from it for quite sometime." She looks around, "Restoring a blessing has nothing to do with the White Wardens, nor is it a call for any such thing. Something took the power away from this place a long time before Rowan came along and honestly, I have felt the absence of the spirits here for quite some time and they have told me that there is something within Arx that poisons them." Now she does stand and her voice rises, "This is not a trial of Rowan Greenmarch, this is ME calling you all to help." Her eyes move to Anze, "This is the simplest way and the best way, to deal with this "Eater."

Sigurd glances at Mydas, and the flicker of emotion in his brother's eyes causes an almost panicked reaction from the man. He tenses, now most attention on Mydas and Signe than on anything else. He doesn't relax at whatever Lianne is whispering, although he grunts in what might be agreeement. Nope, all focus on his siblings, slowly making his way over there unless restrained by Lianne after they have wandered off slightly.

Signe levies Mydas a faint lopsided smile before her gaze drops to her hands. She extends one to place over her brother's, gently squeezing it but without saying anything more to the man.

Khanne looks steadily at Anze and says, "then help us end the poison that did this. Rowan is not that poison. Help us end The Devourer, or the million other names it is called. That, is what we have to do to restore this place to what it was, to revitalize the world and to allow the Spirits to grow stronger once more."

Valencia arrives late and pauses, eyes scanning the crowd. She frowns as the tension of the gathering prickles her skin. Her eyes dart to Anze and then Asger, eyebrow slightly raised.

Lianne straightens a touch at those clearer words from Mydas, the confusion which had etched her features dissipating all too quickly. When Sigurd starts back toward his siblings, she follows close at hand, denying him much distance, keeping her focus on the pair despite the more compelling distractions behind them.

There's a slight smile to be found on Mydas' face and he squeezes Signe's hand in return. Just in time to see Sigurd and Lianne's approach. He speaks quietly again, once they've come close enough.

Bianca inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils, glancing aside to Jasher briefly before attention returned to the bellowing though gaze mostly settled on Khanne as the woman spoke. She nodded in agreement with her. GO FIG!

With the demanded answer made, the return absorbed, Rowan falls to standing quietly, turning his attention forward, listening for any word that there might be any more information floating around about the Eater.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Julea before departing.

Muiryn's hands wrap into fists and his jaw works left to right to stop himself doing anything else. He looks aside and and listens, like the others, for any more knowledge from the others gathered.

Tristram stands next to Drea and nods his thanks, then addresses the crowd: "The enemy grows bold. It strikes at us everywhere. King Alaric. Queen Genevive. The Tragedy at Sanctum. The armies. The blight. The destruction of ancient lands. And this," he gestures to the Grove, "this is the enemy throwing down the gauntlet as never before. Consider. In THIS place, OUR people called forth an elemental against the horde, many hundreds of years ago." He pauses. "*THIS* attack was its petty revenge! It taunts, it besmirches, it destroys! It turns us against each other with greed; it prays upon our faiths and turns them against each other! But why, ask yourself, WHY does it attack HERE?" He makes a pregnant pause. "BECAUSE IT IS AFRAID OF WHAT WE MIGHT DO AGAIN! It KNOWS the pain that came to it from this place, at the hands of our ancestors, working together against it! Don't waste your breath questioning or insulting Rowan; this would have happened without him. LISTEN to Lady Drea, draw together your spirits and rededicate yourself, because it is US--*ALL* of us--that will make that enemy which sows so much fear, feel that fear again!"

Tristram checked command + leadership against difficulty 15, resulting in 20, 5 higher than the difficulty.

Muiryn doesn't seem to be continuing on the path of breaking into a rage, so Agnarr withdraws a few paces to the side, turning to listen to those speaking once more.

Sigurd listens quietly to Mydas, and there is a scowl harsh on his face, although it is softened to worry as he glances from him to Signe. He sighs, seeming to deflate slightly. Tristram's words and speech cause him to glance back toward the gathering. He smiles faintly, clearly approving of the message conveyed and turning some attention back to the larger events at hand, although he now places a hand on Signe's shoulder, squeezing gently and showing his support to his sibling as he listens.

Drea checked composure + leadership against difficulty 15, resulting in 47, 32 higher than the difficulty.

Khanne looks at Tristram in a bit of surprise, but nods to him. "Precisely. That is precisely what I have been saying. This happened, because the things we have been doing to try to stop it, to reverse the damage already done elsewhere, is -working-."

1 Redrain novice guards arrives, following Kieran.

Signe places her other hand on Sigurd's to give it a couple of encouraging pats. She looks up at him with a fond smile before turning back to the gathering, watching Tristram convey his opinion of recent events. A hopeful light remains upon her features as she listens to those who speak.

Smiling faintly at Tristram, Monique gives a firm nod to what's said. She glances back to Muiryn and gives another, smaller nod. Drawing in a breath and letting it out slowly, she looks back to Dreea for the next step.

Lianne again nods her agreement to Mydas, shallow and sharp. She, too, returns her attention forward as Drea and Tristram call for order, for order. The words from Khanne which follow inspire a faint smile which doesn't linger long. She does, however, have her focus back on the proceedings, once more settled in still and quiet at Sigurd's side.

Drea nods in agreement with Khanne and Tristram, "So let us refocus, and win! We can't look on this as a thing to divide us. Let us look on this as a thing to _unite_ us! That is what we are here for, that is why the spirits brought you all here this day."

After murmuring something to Muiryn, Fiachra listens to the response from the older man, and a faint smile touches his lips. Giving his uncle a nod, he steps away then, and finds a place to settle, turning his attention towards Drea, but offering small nods to Khanne and Tristram for their words.

Asger clears his throat and calls out a tad gruffly towards the shamans assembled, "So how do we fuckin' kill it then." the man gestures towards the chomped altar, "Because if that's what its bite is like then I'm going to need a bigger axe."

Tristram moves away from Drea, quietly, to rejoin the crowds, parking himself near Monique.

Anze looks at Rowan one last time and then seems to accept the answer and then nods at Khanne "aye. You're right, he ain seem to be tha poison. This is bout tha enemy. It was with Fiachra an Niamh of tha Greenmarch we went to slay tha beast of Sanctum, an while there are bringers an pirates an whatever tha fuck else, it seems to be tha thing workin in tha background thats our real enemy." He looks to Tristram as the man speaks then, folding his arms accross his chest and saying nothing. And then looks to Drea and nods "aye. You're right. Time to refocus. I can say I was pissed tha fuck off when everythin that happens, an when I heard what happened, but in this place its easy to see who our real enemy is. An it ain each other" a look to Rowan then "thanks for answerin my question, even if I am a prick."

Flicking a glance up to Tristram when he reappears near her, she leans in briefly to offer a whispered word, then straightens again and puts a smile back on her face.

Khanne is overheard praising Drea for: Mother Bear is a true inspiration and a strong example of what it is to be a shaman.

Valencia simply looks tired suddenly. Face otherwise unreadable, she drifts to the back of the crowd to listen and observe.

Drea nods to Anze, "It's alright Anze, you got it all out. That's what's important, we got it out and we can move on and heal." She looks to Asger, "That's what we need to figure out. We know what it is and what it does. It made a mistake in attacking and gloating, it's not working in secret now."

Kieran arrives late to the party and lingers near the back as he tries to catch up.

Rowan nods a single time to Anze, acknowledging his words and leaving the subject to rest. In the wake of the agreement of most , it seemed, to continue froward, he speaks up, "One of the first things we must do are uncover all the lost answers we can. If there is anyone who has nothing they are currently researching, I have a lengthy list of subjects that would be helpful to dig into."

Sigurd snickers a bit at Anze's admission of prickishness, but doesn't comment, most of his mood dour and tense as he occasionally glances at his siblings, keeping one hand on Signe's shoulder and another tucked into his belt. He looks to the speaking people and tilts his head to the side before calling out to Rowan, "What subjects? Some of them are dangerous to delve too deeply into these days, mind."

As Rowan speaks Anze hrms and looks to Julea "I dunno if Julea wants to talk at all bout tha black stone. SHe has been lookin into it, an it seems a little relivent here an now."

Bianca turned her glance to Merek nodding her chin from him to Rowan in emphasis to the dark haired man. Otherwise she turned attentively back to the discussion at hand now that tensions had lowered.

    "I can talk about it, if people wish to learn about the reasons why the use of it has been prohibited." Julea speaks up once Anze's directs attention to her, fingers pulling inky black locks forward over right eye.

Khanne looks to Sigurd and asks, "and why are they dangerous? Again, I say, because they are working."

At the mention of black stone, Mydas glances towards where Julea stands, arching a brow. "By all means." he says.

Freja pinches the bridge of her nose, "Please, please do, Julea. There is a lot to that and I think we would all benefit to know."

Muiryn tips up his chin looking to Julea.

Sigurd huffs a bit at Khanne, nodding firmly. "I am not averse to knowing, but simply being here could bring the attention of various...Things upon the listeners. Such things should be known, before more words be spoken." He doesn't seem about to move or leave himself, turning slightly as Lianne speaks to him and nodding once, apparently in firm agreement.

Drea turns her attention to Julea, "Julea, please. Anything you know that would be helpful in dealing with this "eater" would work to our benefit."

"If we are to take 'spirit' at literal translation - then any information about the hierarchy of the spirits and ways of binding them will be useful. If it is an Abyssal entity, information on binding that as well will be useful, to try and gather what we will nee to know to trap this thing. Any information to be found of anything that is named by a desire to devour. Look into the Old Laws, for those existed for a reason, and most have been lost, forgotten, and their loss is felt in the many shav'arvani tribes and their being tricked by teh demonic. And no, none of these subjects are to be considered safe, and if you undertake their study, you should be aware that you are assuming a risk," Rowan answers to Sigurd, before peering towards Julea.

What Rowan invites has Signe looking between both Sigurd and Mydas, the former with his Lianne and the latter with his... well, Aurum. After her brother speaks, she speaks up, "I'd like to help any way I can." Only after this does she glance back at Lianne, her teeth scraping over her lower lip in a moment's hesitation come after.

Merek seems curious a moment as he looks to Bianca, but then people seem to be listening to Julea, so he listens to that as well for now, while he moves to settle back down.

    Julea pushes up from her bench, and then steps up to stand directly on it, borrowing a few inches of extra height. She then pulls out her journal, and referring to notes there, starts to read. "Many of you would have seen the onyx used in the Mausoleum, or would of heard of the obsidian that was gouged with claw marks that was discovered at the Legate's final rest." She takes a moment to flick through the pages, and then refers to a more recent entry. "When we went beneath Arx, we discovered similiar obsidian, gouged with claw marks, and also with runes marking them. And the similiarities were noted. And that's what drove me to further investigate."

Brows perking up, Agnarr turns his gaze to Julea. The news of what lies below Arx, however, doesn't seem to be exactly news to him.

None that things have calmed some, Sophie parts from Drea's side and makes her way to Rowan, leaning in to murmur something before her attention shifts to Julea.

Remaining silent, Fiachra's attention moves from one person to another as they speak, taking in the information offered. As the tension seems to have been pushed back, he also offers small nods of greeting to those he recognizes.

Muiryn's moving again, while Julea looks through her journal; fear not Greenmarchers! It's not with closed fists that he approaches the altar where Freja is sat back, but rather, an open hand towards the tall northern woman. After the flask she's toting perhaps.

Tristram beckons to Fiachra from where he stands talking to Monique, silently requesting the man join him.

Rowan leans down to hear the words at his ear though his eye lingers on Julea, paying mind to what she has to say. When he straightens up he nods to Sophie and reaches over to squeeze her arm gently near the elbow.

Freja turns her somber eyes to Julea then, pensive as she takes one last swig from her flask and holds it out to Muiryn when he approaches.

    "The shavs made use of it in their rituals, and even in Eurus, it is said that they have entire structures built out of obsidian to honor their gods. But it is also used to ease travel between worlds. To open up portals into other places, such as the abyss, and to allow demonic creatures to pass through." Julea continues on, a few more pages flicked through and then she reads further down the page. "But, not just to the Abyss, also to the Shining Lands. Or it can also be used to imbue blood magic with abyssal energy."

Lianne turns a look directly to Sigurd at something he mutters, something hard within her features. Very quietly, she clips something back at the man, her attention lingering on those closest to her for the moment. With a shake of her head, she adds something softer. It might be an apology.

Warlord Abbas Thrax had arrived at one point to listen and observe. He does so quietly. The armored man decorated in his austere serpent steel. The dreads of the man spill from under the helm and his beard is tied with three leather cords. He watches Julea speak and makes no expression one way or another about the information. The grim-faced Thraxian looms.

Anze is content to listen as others speak now, looking between the exchange of information thats happening now that he's done being an asshole.

When he catches the beckoning gestures from Tristram, Fiachra moves over towards him and Monique, though most of his attention remains on Julea and the information being offered.

Drea taps her lip as she listens to Julea, "Could it be that this altar has been tainted in some way to strengthen blood magic?" She cocks her head, "The spirits have long since told me that there is a corruption in the city that is poisoning them, could this be the source of corruption?" she finishes, "Or am I misunderstanding what you are saying?"

Merek listens to what Julea voices, then looks aside to Bianca. After a bit he stands up and moves over to where Rowan is, before he leans to talk to the man, if he allows. Still he's attentive.

Muiryn crouches, forearms rested on his knees leaving his hands hanging between, one holding the flask a moment as he listens. Looking between each person as they speak, lingering on Drea and her words before he takes a long draught from the flask. Ahh.

    "And this is particularly interesting because of the amount of black rock beneath Arx, and it is here in Arx that it is where the barrier between our world and the Shining Lands is at its thinnest. Which is likely related to the obsidian.." Julea's words fade off, and she briefly follows Abbas' arrival before her focus shifts over to Drea. "I do not know. I think the obsidian has been there for a while. And I think there was some ritual done there, a long time ago.. and that is what may be causing the hoardes of unliving."

Tristram gets Deliverance, a purplish-red rubicund composite reflex recurve bow with ivory-inlaid dragon engravings from an ebony leather satchel.

Tristram says something quietly to Fiachra, and hands him a bow.

Rowan leans his head to Merek when he comes up to whisper to him, and nods a single time to the man, before looking back towards Julea. "She speaks the truth about the proximity between here and the other realm. When Lady Khanne and I meditated here for insight on the realm, it was so loose it seemed we peered right through and slipped across for a moment, and it is more clear, more focused, here in Arx than I have seen it anywhere else."

Sigurd listens to those speaking and nods firmly to Rowan and Julea. "Our own research has shown that this city is the thinnest point in the realm. And that our enemy /knows/ this. Including the Bringers." He grimaces, shuffling and murmuring quietly to his family and to Lianne close by.

Khanne nods to Rowan solemnly. "But it was not the sight I expected it to be... it bore a morbid feel toit."

Drea nods to Julea, "I see, I had suspected there was a connection between the things happening below the city and the things above." She rubs her chin thoughfully, "But there are still connections to be made." Shaking her finger, as she starts pacing around, "So the veil is thinnest here in Arx, so if someone is summoning demons and making offerings, why can't we do the same? Fight fire with fire so to speak?"

A surprised expression crosses Fiachra's face when he's handed the bow, but he listens to Tristram's words before responding, softly, his expression solemn. Then he inclines his head to the other man, and returns his attention to the speakers, for the most part, interest flickering to life as he follows what's being said.

Signe nods some to Lianne and the two men with her before the discussion draws her attention back. In two beats, she's standing up, stepping forward and leaving her brothers behind to speak out a question of "If I may ask, are these dark stones ones that thin the barrier or the very things that keep it from breaking entirely? Perhaps it is the reflective quality in the very stone that changes it and thus makes it more possible for the darkness to seep through? It was specifically reflective obsidian found in the case of the Legate."

Rowan nods to Khanne when she mentions the morbid feeling of it, and goes on to explain how they experienced the place.

Sigurd blanches a bit at what Drea says, and calls out in a louder tone, "The problem with using fire is that it burns /everything/ it touches, Drea. Such things are not to be undertaken lightly, or even considered lightly."

    "If it wasn't like trying to find a needle in a hay stack, we could, in theory, bring Alaric back. But we need a way to focus on his soul." Julea says, still standing atop of the bench and the journal in her hands having come back to her side as she looks across towards Rowan. "And that's, well, a touch outside my area of expertise. But I imagine that there are scholars that could probably advise on that." There's another nod towards Sigurd, and she tucks her free hand into the front pocket of her pants. "The question is, if the Horned God is out there commanding Shav's who wield obsidian daggers, to sacrifice all that blood, they must be pulling a lot of power.. but for what? To bring back Shaivassa? Or something worse?" And then she adds to Drea. "I think we have seen in the past the corruption that comes from drawing abyssal energy."

"Because it is not only dangerous," Lianne answer Drea's potentially rhetorical question, "but lethal, careless, and we know exceedingly little about how to do it in a manner which will not bring even further destruction and despair upon our people. If you've a means of doing so effectively, safely? Without loss of life or damage to our own souls?"

Tristram pauses, wincing as Julea mentions a Name. "Careful what you speak of and where at this time, please, Julea. Please."

A blunt pearly-white flash of teeth breaks the shallows of the Thraxian's beard as Abbas shifts to rest a hand on one of his pair of one-handed axes that is tucked into his belt. His stance lingers in a stiff s-curve from a very statue like contraspposto position. As he grips the wig-splitter lightly the other hand lifts to undo the strap of his helm. He loosens the steel and then slides it into the crook of his left. Caliginous eyes stare with a malice born of a hard life. He's got resting Thrax-face fo' sho'. He continues to watch and listen in silence.

Tristram smiles at Fiachra's reply and claps the man on his shoulder. "Good!" He then turns to the crowd, and says: "What I want to know is this: we know that the holy water and holy fire of the Pantheon hurt the enemy a great deal. We know that Alaricite and Diamondplate do the same thing. Yet the shrines and temples of the Pantheon are, if anything, *secondary* targets to the enemy. They are destroying natural lands and blighting the world. This indicates to me that there is *something* that the Shamans have the key to that the Pantheon does not...which they gear greatly."

    "That name isn't one that I need to worry about uttering." Julea points out to Tristram. "He is not an Archfiend, nor is it his real name."

Khanne looks between Drea, Julea, and Sigurd and just when she is about to speak, she silences and instead approaches Drea quietly.

Kieran blinks a bit, "What is the horned god and shaivassa?"

Sigurd gestures to Khanne and the other shamans, calling out to Tristram, "It was made clear from recent efforts that Shamanism has the potential to reverse Blight and cure the world of this demonic corruption. Perhaps this is what they fear."

Freja adds in agreement with Tristram, "Let us please, do, be careful with specific names - particulary in this place."

"There is a figure known as the White Reaper which is also targeting shamans," Rowan nods to Tristram. "They have been quietly leeching the magic away from the world and weakening the spirits and Old Gods, and I believe it is because they pose a very real threat to the enemy. I believe they have been covertly weakening us for centuries to make for a quick, decisive win."

Merek looks to Tristram, then he looks back to the the proceedings, then blinks blinks blinks at Drea. "That sounds like a /very/ bad idea," he states. "However something interests me... They mentioned blood magic, being fueled by abyssal energies. Does this mean that blood magic, is in fact, /not/ inherantly abyssal?" he asks them all.

Tristram says, "If there is -one thing- that should convince you not to fool about with blood magic, especially *this* crowd, it's this: the spirits of the land utterly and completely abhor it."

Drea shakes her head at Lianne, "No, that's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is we may have to find a way to -DO- that. I think we are on the same page there."

    "The Horned God, or the Minstrel, is of the Metallic Order. He betrayed Platinum and Copper and is now out there, commanding Shav's .. against their will to commit blood sacrifices." Julea explains, looking to Kieran as she does so. "And that, would be the great beast of midnight, defeated by GoldenPyre. Also of the Metallic Order, but now dead, his armor fused to his body."

"This White Reaper figure is also the leader of the Bringers of Silence, and very much interested in coming here. However, I don't think he's concerned with this, specifically." Mydas motions to the dead ground and broken stone. "Something else to worry about, certainly."

Listening on with growing puzzlement worn into his face, Agnarr glances briefly Freja's way, then moves to stand by her, fetching his own flask to sip.

Left blinking in the midst of all the voices overlapping, Signe turns back to one that she hears closest to her. She gives Mydas a little smirk and a light poke in the ribs as Sigurd makes his attack, all as she retakes her place beside him, evidently staying on the side opposite where Aurum might be.

Khanne turns her gaze to Merek then, the grey turned icy, the look narrowed. "Blood magic -is- abyssal! No shaman in their right mind condones its use."

Tristram looks pretty nervous as several things are being spoken about openly. He keeps looking up in the sky, and then to the ground, and then behind other people, to see if the world is suddenly going to go explodey.

Kieran just blinks more. "Metallic order. That sounds familiar but you have totally lost me."

"... I didn't speak a word about Shamans using it, I was just asking," Merek tells Khanne, lifting his brow at her sudden turn on him for what seems no reason.

As Agnarr starts over, Muiryn is pushing to his feet and handing the (empty) flask to Freja. Something said to Freja in a rumble before Ryn moves back to stand by Khanne and Rowan; with a look off to Monique and Fiachra with Tristram.

Sigurd reaches up to cuff his brother on the head about /something/ he muttered a few moments past, then calling out to those nearby, "All rather brazen talk for such a sacred place. Also, blood magic and summoning of any sort goes against the natural order at present. We need to focus on cleansing first, and locating the source of this corruption."

    "Most of the Metallic Order are now dead. I think there's only three left? Platinum, Copper and Orichalcum. The latter being the Horned God. Copper is here in Arx, and has supposedly put together and is recruiting for the Red Wardens. Platinum I believe is to the north." Julea lifts her journal up a touch from her hip, adding a touch quieter. "I have notes, and should anyone have more questions, happy to share what I know on things."

Rowan sighs with a shake of his head. "Blood magic, alone, is not abyssal, but it is a rare soul that takes that route that does not succumb to corruption. It is ferquently used alongside the Abyssal. Easy, quick, and dangerous paths to power. And yes, the spirits revile a blood offering. They have told me this - they do not desire blood, demons do." Glancing towards Sigurd, he nods to the man and goes on, "The Old God described the Devourer as the wellspring of the poison in Arvum. It travels, adn it returns to Arx. It may still be here now, it may have moved on. We need to end it, if we are going to end the poison. We might call on the Great Spirit of the Wild to try and cleanse in the meantime. Rituals and prayers have worked so far to repair the demonic corruption."

Tristram frowns, deeply, at Julea, and heads over towards her.

Shifting his weight, Agnarr sips a little more from his flask, gaze flicking to Julea, though he decides to remain as he is, listening next to Rowan.

"What concerns me most is if we are all going to forget what we were told, as fast as we learned it... All reports seem to indicate that happens. Quite often," Merek opines after a moment.

"STOP!" Monique lets her voice carry as she calls out. "STOP NOW BEFORE YOU CALL THE WRONG ATTENTION TO EVERY PERSON HERE!" Stepping forward, the young Greenmarch woman shows exasperastion, with everyone, it would seem. "Stop before you start forgetting! Before your precious book there erases itself in front of you! Do you even have any idea WHAT it is that will come for you?!?!"

Freja mutters something to Muiryn as he departs and then says to Agnarr, "I hope you're keeping your sword sharp." And then Monique is shouting and she arches her brow.

"Nique, that fuck girl?" Muiryn grunts stopped in his tracks for Monique's shouting.

"Always," Agnarr replies to Freja. He might elaborate further, but Monique also draws his attention, nostrils flaring with a breath.

Anze arches a brow at Monique along with Freja, glancing to Julea to see what her response is going to be to that outburst.

Rowan glances towards Monique's outburst, and then moves aside, stepping over to Drea, whispering quietly at her shoulder.

Merek looks to Monique, "... She has a point, as I said. So often this stuff is remembered, and forgotten fast, I think it's time we stop talking so deeply about it," he admits.

Lianne's attention lingers intently on Rowan at his words of blood offerings and the spirits, but some of the other chatter has her eyes drifting closed and words murmured softly toward the nearby Nightgolds. She draws a deep breath, opens her eyes and glances toward the exit. It seems the safer option.

Signe glances to Lianne with an apologetic twist of her lips. She takes a step forward and calls out, "We should do what we came here for. A reconsecration of the Stone Grove. Lingering in this place in its current condition only causes us more strife."

Sigurd sighs, grunting and giving a faint nod to something Lianne says. "Oh, I can think of /exactly/ what would be coming for us. And unless there is a stop to the naming of specific things, I am afraid I myself am going to be leaving, and I would recommend the same." He rubs at his face. "All of us together, speaking of it? It's like a beacon to such things." He looks a little surprised at the shouting, but goes along with it, apparently in agreement. He nods to his sister firmly.

Drea holds up her hand, "I think we don't need to use names at this point. Merely to focus on the task at hand. The task seems to be to decide if we have common goals, which at this point I think we do and how to best deal with it."

    The shouting has Julea bringing her right hand up to cover her ears, grimacing. "I did not speak any names of things I ought not to of."

Fiachra rubs a hand over his face. He certainly doesn't seem to be in disagreement with Monique... or with Sigurd, for that matter, as he nods to him. There's tension in his body, and he moves towards the edge of the gathering.

Tristram says, "Further conversation should be, I think, directed not at delving into the darkness of the 'truth' and the scraps of knowledge regarding what we know, and more towards aiding the Shamans. I personally, have been hoping that the shamans would join together in an organization--perhaps a confederation--that represents your faith much as the Faith of the Pantheon is organized to represent the Pantheonic faith; something where you can share information amongst yourselves and deliberate and connect with others. I had spoken about this with Rowan once, in the distant past.""

Mydas frowns as the discussion goes on, and does not seem to mind the shouting when it begins. "True names don't need to be uttered to get the wrong kind of attention. Now for all our sakes, let us move on to what we came here to do. Heal this most sacred of places, and erase the damage done by this arrogant intruder." he adds in favour to what his siblings have said.

"It /doesn't matter/, Julea. The effect is cumulative. The more you know, the more attention you draw. The more you share, the more likely you are to spread it to someone else. You don't need say its name to gain its attention!" Monique throws her hands up into the air and lets out a groan.

Merek gets Petrichor's Uncommon Prayer Book from a backpack made with black linen.

Merek takes a moment, and reaches into his backpack. After all is said and done, he moves up towards where Drea is, and holds up a copy of an Uncommon Prayer Book, "... Perhaps, we should all pray the Prayer of Dominion together in this place, with our hearts and soul in it?" he asks.

Anze blinks at Merek "you want us to pray to southern gods at a gatherin of shamans?" Anze asks incredulously

"Merek.. this is not the place to impose beliefs of the Faith." Bianca immediately, though softly scolded.

Merek states after a moment to Bianca, "There was some evidence presented, I believe, that he is much similar, if not the /same/, as the spirit or spirits that consecrated the place," he opines, "But perhaps you are right."

"The Grove was originally blessed BY Petrichor... Drea said as much herself, "Monique motions towards the elder shaman woman.

    "I was asked to speak on topics and share what I know. So I did. The exact same topics that have been discussed in groups of similar size, elsewhere. A lot of what I spoke of is even etched in a plaque in the Hall of Heroes and is common knowledge." Julea hops off of the bench and grabs up her pack from where it had been laid to rest. "But sure, if it is preferred that I don't speak a word of anything I know to anyone ever again. By all means. Let's reamin ignorant. That's always worked so well for us before." And with that, she's heading off.

Asger says over to Anze, "The man is obviously a simpleton, first asking about blood magic and now expectin' us to go praying to the southern gods at a shaman gathering."

"I believe...that we should reconvene for a proper ritual to try and cleanse this place, and let everyone digest everything in the time between now and then," Rowan suggests. "We would nto be able to come to it with our whole will right now anyway, not with the distraction of thoughts and information and emotions still piqued."

Drea nods to Merek, "I think that's something that we should discuss at another time. I certainly don't have the where withall to put out another fire this night." She looks around, "I'll call this gathering to a close and ask that all of my fellow shaman stay behind for a while for a word." She raises her hand, "Thank you all for coming! Spirits guide!"

Merek puts Petrichor's Uncommon Prayer Book in a backpack made with black linen.

Julea has left the benches.

Sigurd shakes his head quietly, turning to his siblings and Lianne and gesturing for them to follow. "We have things we need to speak on," he says tersely, almost glaring at all and sundry before softening a bit to bow his head to Drea and the others. "Thank you for your time, Drea, Khanne, Rowan. It was most...Illuminating." Then he's off, hopefully with others in tow.

Anze is still looking at Merek like he grew two heads and then turns it to Asger "right?" Anze says and sighs before nodding to Drea "aye, I've caused enough f'an trouble for one day. I'm glad you called this aunt, glad we could get together an talk." He bows his head and heads out of the stone grove.

"... Yes, insulting people that wish to make a difference or learn is how we all come together," Merek states, after Anze and Asger speak up, and he shakes his head a bit. "As was said much earlier," Monique then outright states what /he/ stated, who is quoting Drea in her statement, and he just makes a dramatic motion to her, then to Drea, while he shakes his head. He looks to Drea afterwards for a moment, "Whatever you plan to do... If you have need, just send for me, and I'll help as I can."

Signe nods wordlessly to Mydas and casts gauging eyes upon Sigurd and Lianne before turning to the gathering at large. "Spirits guide," she affirms for the rest of those departing from this place. Sigurd's words have her brows hitching, however. "We're going now? But--" And she looks back to Drea, since it was she who wished the shamans to remain, anyway.

Sigurd pauses for a moment, looking to Signe, then to the shamans. "You can stay if you wish, Signe. I think you'd be safe with them."

"By the Gods and spirits both..." Mydas shakes his head. He looks over to Signe, Sigurd and Lianne. "Yes, we do. I hope you're willing to accompany us, milady." he says to Lianne before addressing the others. "Thank you for the information, though I am sorry we could not do what we came here for. Hopefully the next attempt will be more successful." He bows before following along, pausing when Signe speaks. "Go ahead. We can talk later."

Valencia takes another look at the faces present, her own expression pensive, and then drifts off like a shadow.

With an incline of his head to Drea, Fiachra offers, "Safe paths." to the others, before slipping back out of the grove quietly.

Brahm, a large iridescent plumed raven leaves, following Morrighan.

Drea smiles warmly at Merek, "Thank you, that is very much appreciated. I believe this grove has as much importance to your faith as it does ours."

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Sigurd before departing.

Brahm, a large iridescent plumed raven arrives, delivering a message to Sigurd before departing.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Mydas before departing.

Signe bobs her head towards Sigurd, Mydas and Lianne before hurrying towards Drea and the other shamans. She waves at them over her shoulder, "I'll come straight home after!"

Muiryn looks to Asger briefly and shakes his head, before he leans near Rowan for a quiet word. The old Stag seems to be packing it in for now, moving off with a word to his other family members, as well as Drea before he makes his way out of the Grove.

Lianne offers a nod for Mydas and a smile for Signe. She looks toward the shamans remaining and considers the lot of them for a moment longer before moving to follow the pair with whom she's leaving.

Aurum leaves, following Mydas.

Lianne, Mydas leave, following Sigurd.

Rowan reaches over to take Muiryn by the forearm and claps a hand to the other mand's hand, nodding to his uncle's words with a wry snicker. "Good night, Ryn. I'll speak with you tomorrow."

Monique moves towards Drea, tipping her head forward and offering a tired smile, "My apologies for the outburst, my lady. But she was toeing dangerously close to a line that shouldn't be crossed. Not here, not with so many gathered. Spirits only know what that would have called down... a group this size, in this place... better she pout and sulk than the alternative."

Jasher has left the benches.

Merek seems to be deep in pensive thought, then he turns back to Drea. "You know, I follow the Pantheon, but that does not mean I don't respect other faiths as well. I somehow think it's all... Connected, in some way, like you said earlier about Petrichor." He looks to Monique, and seems curious a moment, "... What should we do, for us that carry much knowledge already?"

Tristram looks to Merek, and says: "Pray. Be careful. And hope that we can find a way to end -it- before -it- ends -us."

Jasher stands, stretches and looks over at Bianca. "Talk to you tomorrow." he says to her, giving her a quick smile before turning to leave. Then pausing as he catches sight of the unmistakable form of Abbas. Interesting. Giving his cousin a nod, he heads out of the grove.

Freja pushes up from her seat and moves over to Anze and then Drea, giving them both a hug in farewell before moving for the exit herself. She pauses near Rowan on her way out to say, "Thank you." and leaving it at that.

Freja has left the altar.

A smirk breaks the lips of the Thraxian Reaver Prince. The dark circles from war-dye that stains around his eyes moves left and right as he takes in the conversation, "The lands of Eurus are fat with blood magic. And the world has not come crashing down." He states with a smirk, "You are fools not to put axe to mitt and openly share all there is to know. You get innocents murdered by not dropping your balls and sailing into the the wind." And with that Abbas takes his leave.

Drea nods to Monique with a smile, "I understand, and you're right. I think what I've done is fly in the face of some very bad things. But someone has to, but I don't want any harm to come to anyone else."

She nods to Merek, "I agree and we'll definitely have to have a nice talk about that in the near future! I look forward to speaking with you!"

She nods to Rowan, "We'll just give everyone a moment to file out."

"Thank you all for coming. If you have questions, feel free to seek any of us out in the coming days. If we can use your assistance, we will be sure to let you know." Khanne states to the crowd. "If you could now leave this space to the shamans again so that we may commune amongst each other and close out the evening in calm... May Spirits guide your paths to truth, as always." She dips her head then.

Listening briefly to words exchanged between shamans, Agnarr glances around briefly before he too takes his leave.

Now that the meeting is over, Asger dons a wide easy going grin and walks up to the shamans, "Thank you friends, for sharing you knowledge." Clapping his hands together he lets out a hearty laugh, "Now we just have to find an antidote for this poison, and axe that is big enough to cut a spirit cloud with teeth that can chomp through stone." still chuckling to himself the man strolls for the exit, "Gonna need an axe worthy of legend."

Merek dips a small incline towards Drea, while he settles up further. He then moves back and pulls his cloak about his form hood up. He then moves to where Bianca is after a moment, "m'Lady, shall I escort you, or are you staying?" he asks kindly, his gaze kind as it often is once more.