In the brief respite from their outings battling with darkness across the land, Lostariel takes a moment of peace as once again, she takes up aiding in the chores of the church. There is soothing stillness in the acts in the house of light, her mind wandering as she runs a cloth over one of the church's many windows. At the end of the day, all arguing aside and tension now between the, due to unwise actions, she saw not one, but two of the band turn away from clear wickedness. Edmund was reluctantly and required her, Cecil, and even one of the heathens to encourage him, which was troubling. Her once teammate in the hunt for Pholtus was showing a particular inclination towards being lead astray. After so many years in service, it was almost mind blowing that he would wander towards the dark side like a lamb frolicking up to a wolves den and bleating in greeting. Cecil however, was a pleasant surprise. Whatever the case proves to be regarding the man's history here, seeing him turn away from what appeared to be a greeting between him and that god awful statue was a comfort. Though still concerned with his involvement in a place like this, for now she'd like to believe even if Cecil was the reason they were lead here, perhaps it was unintentional. Rather than malicious, it could be that he was somehow freed from this place, but the place itself was hungry and had lured him back once more years later when he had been close enough for it to sense? They were with him simply due to the nature of the foe and their service to the Lord of Light. In which case, the true victims of the dark were actually the heathens. With Edmund, Cecil and her, there was the reasoning of the fight of Dark versus Light. The druid and barbarian though were innocent pawns caught in the middle, and more and more, these two proved to be some of the unbias allies she'd had. Turi, despite his stubborn faith to the old gods, did fight the same battle often as her. And with Sinful, there was a calm rationality that transcends simple black and white but more a ruling of spirit. Anak's staff and brush off about confidentiality bring her pause, her lips pursed slightly. She was considering the man a potential ally, and confidentiality she could understand, except when it put all of them at potential risk. He knew about the blade, that it was constantly asking to strike out, and kept it from them at Edmund's request. The fact that Edmund sought to keep secrets from Cecil and her specifically meant the man must have had some idea of the wickedness and willfully sought to use it in spite of his previous alliances. Even resolved, the issue of his choices leaves Lost doubtful of trusting a former comrade. As for the staff... She shudders violently as she recalls the way the sword's handle felt in her hand, at the sound of it's hungry keening forced in her mind. If the staff was anything like that, it too would have to be dealt with eventually. They couldn't have hidden foes amongst their own rank if they were going to make it out of this land alive. A task that was seeming more and more difficult. Though she had utter faith that Pholtus would present her the direction and tools to fight against this wicked foe, it also appeared she would be fighting against the temptations the rest of the group was facing as well. And in the meantime, the Devil of this land appeared quite eager to begin their encounter anew. As she looked through the glass, her thoughts drift back to earlier in the wee morning hours, standing stock still and watching this creature restlessly pace outside the Corely house just yards away. Him, or one of his many minions, either way it was unnerving to see the behavior. Like a cat having chased mice into a hole, it had waited and sought a way in. Surely there must have been other prey out that night, easier marks. They were safe now though, aside from the questionable nature of that writhing stick, and still more or less banded together against a common goal. And with that realization firmly gripped, the wood elf pursues far more favorable musings. My Lord. I appreciate Your attempt to give me guidance today in dealing with the blade and understand not everything is simple when fighting against these desperate situations. In the end, I was able with aid to remove it from one of Your many loyal followers. I hope that with it gone, the light You've bestowed in him can again rekindle and grow with Your presence, that he will turn to face the warmth You've given all of us. The blade feels like a needed but somewhat minor victory today, compared to how it felt when that unnatural tree creature was being faced. I've no doubt that You were there guiding my shots when that thing arose from the druids grove. It was everything You stand against, heavenly Lord Pholtus, and slaying it was an honor to Your name and Your will. I look forward to the next target brought down before Your will, and await Your direction. Once more, My Lord, I must thank you. Feeling You here, with me, with us, gives me the drive each midnight dark evening to prepare for the tasks the next day's brilliant dawn. As the chill of night and of the Devil Strahd settles over this confusing land again, it's into Your warmth that I turn. Blessings to You, my Lord, many of them.
