The meeting before the fight

[Aden Vigil]

Aden sat down, his muscles about to give out on him. Looking at him he sighed softly. He had stopped the count down, being almost unable to stand any longer. He bent over and said softly, "You are welcome to join this side. I'll not kill you if you stay and you'll be kept safe. Going back to Osiris would provoke your own death. We're not so stupid as Osiris has made us out to be. Though you will be watched over just to make sure of the safety we have here." He said forcing himself to sit up straight. "Azazeal...A little help...I'm about to faint..." He managed to get out softly to the Prophet's aid.

[Prophet Bassette]

Azazeal, whom had been on such a tight guard closed his eyes for a moment, his hands going to his side in a resting position before giving a relieved sigh. He slowly opened his eyes to look at all of the occupants of the room. It smelled strongly of blood and vomit now, it was making him sick. But now, all was depending on him.

He glanced at Dulcimer who had finally stopped retching and had been rendered unconscious from the bout with the vomiting to the Prophet who had been praying and crying the entire fight. Her face was streaked with tears, her hands over her eyes as she struggled to stifle her cries. As Aden beckoned to him, Azazeal stood from his crouched position and made his way to the General all the while glaring at the assailant with distrust. Azazeal then knelt by Aden and with strength hidden by his soft features, lifted the General by his arm and helped him to the Prophet's bed where he lay the General across the foot of the bed. Immediately, Bassette flung herself over Aden in a gentle grasp and a cry of relief.

"Oh Aden! Oh thank Lumen! Oh Aden...Aden..." She couldn't help the new wave of tears that slammed into her as she stroked Aden's hair while looking over his body quickly for his injuries. Azazeal then turned to the assailant, his eyes as cold as ice. He walked up to the assassin with a cruel look on his face.

"Dirt..." Azazeal muttered. Bassette looked to him for a moment.
"Azazeal...please, do not-,"
"Dirt...he's got dirt in his wounds..." Azazeal muttered. Bassette looked to Draken, her gentle face giving him a look of trust.
"What Aden said is true...you do not have to return to your horrible King...we can keep you safe here if you wish...Please consider our offer. But for now...won't you let us heal your wounds?" Bassette asked. Azazeal stared at Draken, his face stiff.

[Draken]

Draken flinched and avoided Azazeal's gaze as he strode up. He glanced up at the Prophet, slightly calmed by her expression and tone of her voice. He nodded in response to her question. "But...why?"

[Aden Vigil]

Once Aden was on the bed and the Prophet was done looking at his wounds he pushed himself into a sitting position. He always felt more comfortable that way. "Why? Because we are humane. You may have tried to kill a person, but you can always change. That's what I'm..." He paused as a burning pain flared in his chest and forced him to bend over holding his still bleeding chest. He took a few breaths to steady himself, "...here. I want people to see......other then Osiris's view.....people can change." He stopped talking so that he was able to keep himself from fainting.

"What do you say?" Aden said looking at him with a weak smile. He was at the limit of his control over his body. After all, the cut had been deep enough to keep bleeding steadily through this whole fight. A lot deeper then he had expected it to be. Aden wasn't a healer or any thing to do with medicine either way so it didn't really matter. His hand was over the deeper part of the wound, trying to keep pressure on it.

[Prophet Bassette]

"Yes...here with the Order...we celebrate life...not power. That's what we're fighting for. We're fighting for the young children born in this town and their right to life their life free of war and pain...We don't want to be known as a faction by counting headstones...we want to be victors by counting the amount of people with smiles..." Bassette said. He looked worriedly to Aden as he seized in pain. Her face returned to being worried as she placed her hands on him to help him keep stable.

"Please Aden, you mustn't push yourself..." She said calmly. She then looked at Draken with a gentle smile on her face again. Although, she looked sad. She felt for Draken and his choice. He had worked for Osirus so hard only to have victory taken again. Not only would he be deemed as a failure by the King, but now he would be considered a burden to Osirus. Surely, Osirus will want him killed. More pressure for the Order, but that did not matter to Bassette. Instead she looked at him kindly.

"We have need for many more hands in the Order...and you'll be safe here as long as you have faith in the people around you..." She said. Azazeal gave an irritable sigh and flicked his wrist out. A tightly woven grass mat zipped out from under the Prophet's bed and fluttered next to Dulcimer's. Azazeal did not like the fact of having to deal with so many people this close to the Prophet, but it seemed that he was pretty much the only one in the hut not bleeding and able to move. Without a warning, Azazeal grabbed Draken's arm and dragged him to the grass mat. He pointed at Draken, lifting his chin slightly.

"Stay there and don't move," Azazeal growled. "I've got too much stuff to do to have you suddenly jumping up to kill anyone else and I will knock you out before you get a chance to do so..." Azazeal said before he turned and walked up to Aden. He looked him over for a moment before he snapped his fingers and what remained of Aden's blouse and armor was removed from his chest.

[Draken]

Draken took his time considering this offer but finally said, "I'll have to think about it..."

(That's...All I got for that one >.<)

[Aden Vigil]

He gave a weak smile at the Prophet, "If I don't push myself then what example I am going to make when it comes to fight. I've always been taught that I need to..." Again pain flared up, but he didn't react as badly as before, "...push through it." He said continuing to smile at the Prophet. He knew he was in good hands though. It was just a matter of how long he could keep himself awake, "You're a pretty good fighter. I didn't....realize...how deep this was..." Again, broken up speech. Aden was fighting this as hard as he could.

Once his bare chest was fully visible it was obvious how deep the cut was. It was still bleedy strongly and the dark cut against his pale skin seemed to make it seem worse then it was, even though it was bad. Aden forced his body to remain still. He would be training past this no matter what other's said. He gave a brief look to Dulcimer and was relaxed to see that he wasn't too bad. Unconsious, but not dead. That just made dealing with this wound easier.

[Prophet Bassette]

Azazeal glanced over his shoulder at the assassin for a moment and snorted at his reply.
"I'll think about it... as if you've got much to think about. Let's see go back to Osirus and be killed or stay here and resume living life...yeah, seems like a difficult choice if you ask me..." Azazeal grumbled as he flicked a hand overhead. As several needles and thread came from Dulcimer's bedside to Azazeal's hand, he moved close to Aden, breaking obvious personal bubbles as he gently traced his fingers over the wound. He stared at it for a moment, then stood up.

"Please Azazeal...do not talk to our guest in such a manner!" Bassette begged. Azazeal looked at her for a moment, then gave a sharp nod.
"I'm sorry my lady..." He made a beckoning motion with his hand and another cup flipped itself upright and over to the small bowl that held the pain reducing paste that Dulcimer had been forced to drink earlier. Then it flew to Draken and another refilled itself, coming to Aden.

"You best drink this...it will tone down the pain a bit..." Azazeal said. He then grabbed an extra white strip of linen and stuffed it next to Aden. He surely didn't need Aden bleeding on the Prophet's bed, although, he would be making sure to wash everything anyway.

"I can't put a salve into a wound this deep. We'll have to stitch it in order to close it. You're certainly going to have quite a time leading an army with this wound..." Azazeal muttered to Aden as he prepared the needle and thread. He followed Aden's glance to Dulcimer, but silently looked back to his work.

"Hmph...he should be fine...unless our assassin has information on this poison that we should know about..." Azazeal muttered as he pressed a searing hot wet cloth against Aden's wound.

[Draken]

"My life isn't worth living, most of the time," He muttered. Draken's clothing was absorbing most of the blood from his own wounds. He ignored the medicine offered for now, allowing his mind to dwell on nothing else but the pain so he wouldn't concentrate on other things- like the smell of elven blood that sent him into a frenzy. He rested his head on his knees and absentmindedly watched Azazeal work.

[Aden Vigil]

Aden watched the needles and thread near him. "Azazeal...You really expect me to make leading this army easy? Or even want it that way?" He asked with a shaking laugh before letting out a hiss as as the hot clothe was pressed again his chest. He was on the verge of passing out. Aden didn't drink the thing for the pain though. He had never been one for that kind of medicine. "Every life is worth living assassin. It's how you live it that matters." Aden said looking over at the other.

He almost wanted to pass out so that he didn't need to deal with the needle, but it was better if he stayed awake in case anything else happened. He stared up at the ceiling for a little before smiling at Azazeal, "I truly am sorry about this mess. Didn't expect anything like this to happen today." He felt the need to apologize even though he was short of breath just because the hut was covered in blood and human flesh (Aden and Dulcimer) and now held an injured assassin who thought that his life was worthless.

Aden closed his eyes for a moment, but kept himself awake. That was the struggle at the moment, but he would be moving as soon as these stitches were done...He hoped...

[Draken]

Draken barely listened to Aden's words. One arm lay folded across his knees propping his head up slightly. The other was at his side, absentmindedly tracing demonic runes in the dirt. Just as he was about to fall into a light slumber, the small amount of poison began to take affect. His hands balled into fists and winced as the burning sensation progressed painfully slow through his veins.

[Prophet Bassette]

Azazeal snorted at Draken's reply as he began to stitch Aden's wound.
"He's right though, Aden. His life isn't worth living if he's living under Osirus' foul rule...Nothing but a pack of blood sucking insects..." Azazeal grumbled. He glanced back as Draken winced in pain as he continued to work on Aden. He made quick work of the stitches and pointed at his abdomen as a wrap of bandages flew from Dulcimer's table and began to busy itself by wrapping tightly around Aden's chest. Azazeal then walked up to Draken, his fingers stained in Aden's blood. He lifted his chin and looked down at Draken.

"You're not worth saving if you won't save yourself. Everyone in this world is born with choice. You chose your assassin path, you chose to work for Osirus, you chose to live your life as a dog. But you can choose to lead a better life. Well, here it is assassin...you have two choices and now is the time to make them. Will you chose life and live free of Osirus' rule or will I simply allow you to turn into a fleshy soup as the poison eats at your insides? I'd say you made the first choice already be not committing suicide upon your failure...but then again you could save me a load of time and supplies by offing yourself now...what do you say?" Azazeal stood in front of him, his hands folded over his chest now.

"Aza...zeal...stop...being such a prick...leave him alone...to make his decision..." Dulcimer muttered from his bedside. Azazeal turned to look at him, then snorted.

"Forgive him already?" Azazeal asked. Dulcimer weakly turned his head to look at the assassin.

"Just...heal him...and give him time...please..." Dulcimer begged. Azazeal snorted. But a stern breath of air from Bassette made Azazeal cringe with the prospect of what he was about to do. He knelt in front of the assassin.

"Let me see the wound..."

[Draken]

Draken's eyes filled with both anger and fear as Azazeal spoke to him, as if he just should have taken his chances wounded in the desert. Then he couldn't believe what he was hearing from who he originally intended to kill, or who he almost killed- or the Prophet he threatened to kill. They were all so...nice. He didn't expect this at all from the Order, who Osirus ordered him to kill weekly because they were the leeches of this world...

His head snapped up as Azazeal kneeled in front of him, flinching, then quickly obliged by peeling his blood-soaked clothes from wherever he was wounded revealing the cursed markings on his chest and scars from a beating administered about a year ago. His wounds weren't too serious, except the poison the worst was a deep slice in his upper leg, unless left untreated.

[Aden Vigil]

Aden let Azazeal finish and then after the bandages finished wrapping around his chest he sat up before standing. He looked at Dulcimer and chuckled, "Good to see you are responsive Dulcimer. You worried me I was going to lose one of my best spies there." He looked at his friend before back to Azazeal. He chuckled as the Prophet's intake of air made him cringe. Looking at the Prophet he gave her a bow, "Thank you Lady Bassette. Once again I owe a lot to you." He was big on respect. Looking over at Azazeal he flashed a smile, "I'm going to get out of your hair now. With two poisoned spies/assassins in here you don't need to worry about me."

He stretched and having forgotten about the sitches for a moment he had stretched a little too far and winced. "Being used to wounds like this never helps you in the first few days." He said giving a curt bow to the others before moving towards the door. He stopped by Draken and said softly so that only the assassin and if Azazeal listened then him as well, "Choose what you think is best. I just want you to know both ends of the deal before you pick. A blind choice isn't always the best one." He looked outside and nodded again at the other's. He walked right out the door and towards his own hut. Maybe he would take a day off from training just so he could heal.

{Aden's officially relaxing. He's gone. Have fun guys.}

[Prophet Bassette]

As Aden walked out, Azazeal glanced back at the assassin and smirked cruelly.
"Hmph...you're lucky you failed your assassination here..." Azazeal said before looking back at the wound. So, a wound on the upper leg huh? This would be fun. Azazeal was not usually one for revenge or even contemplating purposeful pain for someone. But the assassin had made the Prophet cry. Azazeal was not above teaching someone to never make the Prophet uncomfortable. He examined the wound for a moment longer, then stood.

"Well, guess its time to work..." Azazeal said.
"Stop being such...a prick...I'm still...watching you..." Dulcimer muttered. Azazeal glanced at him and smirked.

"Don't worry...I won't put him in too much pain..." Azazeal then beckoned a small cup over and filled it with the same putrid smelling paste he had made Dulcimer drink. It would force anyone to retch until the poison was moved out of the system. He handed it to Draken and nodded.

"Drink it." He then grabbed his bucket of hot water and needle ands thread again. He grabbed the hot cloth and pressed it tightly against his leg wound. Without wasting another second, Azazeal took the cloth away and began to stitch the wound. Looking up at Draken for a moment, he halted the stitching.

"What would make anyone want to work for Osirus?"