The Auvani Kingdom nad its mother continent. For thousands of years, it endured. Nations rose and fell around it but the Auvani stood strong. They claim to trace their history back to a ti of tribes and barbarians and found unity in the worship of their deity. Once considered a pagan divinity or just so apostasy to the true Pantheon, for more than two millennia the Great White One is considered as a primitive aspect of the Matriarch.
After the destruction of Windere during the Cataclysm, the seat of the [Pope] moved south, to the capital. A mighty cathedral was built in honor of the Goddess, and now Auvani is the heart of the worldwide Church. All the important figures of the Church are here, from many [Cardinals], [Bishops], the current [Pope] herself, and for the last century, this age's [Saintess].
The orphan kitsune girl was found bringing forth miracles in the slums of a small kingdom. The local King promptly tried to use her to further his expansionist agenda, but the Church had other plans for the blessed child. A war ensued, and the zealots "freed" the young girl in the na of the Matriarch. Of the Kingdom where she was born, not much was left after the cities were pillaged and razed. Now it is a breeding ground for monsters and unsavory brigands, but that's not relevant now.
She lived in luxury, in a gilded cage, in the mighty cathedral, in the everlasting Kingdom. Many tried to use her to further their own cause, but she proved a hard puppet to manipulate. Eventually, She joined the dying faction of [Bishop] Wolfbane the Faithless, breathing new life into that militant group. The werewolf [Bishop] was called "Faithless" because his Faith score never rose above twenty-five. Yet the Goddess granted him the Class evolution nonetheless. Much was speculated on the deity motives, but the [Saintess] joining his faction silenced all dissent.
Why the kitsune woman decided to throw her lot with the [Bishop], it was a secret known only to the two of them and the Goddess. Many tried to persuade the [Saintess] to change factions, but she remained adamant. So even question the young lady's sanity or tastes in man, the latter never in public.
But as she lounged in her chambers high up on one of the cathedral's nine towers, the [Saintess]' heart was calm. Her reasons were one of convenience and ticulously calculated risks.
The room could make many Royal chambers look like a stable boy's quarters. Gold and platinum decorated the marble walls and pillars, tapestries, and works of art that would srize a lesser person out of their sheer beauty and emotion. A view like no other to the city below. Enchantnts and glamours ease out any hardship in life, from temperature to lighting to ambient sounds.
Yet the gorgeous blonde woman, her long and wavy locks contrasting with the bright orange of her long ears mounted on top of her head, adorned by a circlet covered in the most precious gems cared not a single bit about the lavish ambiance. She would gladly trade everything in that room for a hovel if it ant she could be next to the ones she yearned for.
Despite being a century old, she looked fresh out of her teens. Her body was slender but lacked not in the womanly charms. Six tails waved behind her, orange, green, dark blue, and deep brown for the four basic elents, then a silvery for Divination and a golden one matching her hair for Divine magic.
Clad in overlaid silk robes, six of them matching her tails' colors and the seventh covering all others pure white with gold thread embroidery. She wore a splendid long braid ticulously styled by her maids. Doing her hair alone took more than half an hour out of every morning, even with the aid of magic.
She sensed her partner in cri's arrival before the [Bishop] burst through the door. And burst he did. The woman narrowed her eyes as she stared at the fuming werewolf. Her attendants jumped out of the angry ecclesiastic's way while a few brave ones thought of defending their Lady. The [Saintess] sighed, and with a minor effort of will, triggered a minor miracle that let all her servants and guards know she wished them out of the room.
> Level 77 male Werewolf [Bishop]. Physical > ntal > Spiritual.
The slavering [Bishop] was no danger to her. Not only could she easily defend herself against him with her miracles, damaging but a single eyelash of hers would an a death sentence for his faction if not for his person. The werewolf zealot had no want for antagonists inside their very organization. True to her expectations, the hulking mass of fur, rage, and muscle stopped a few ters from her and huffed like he wished to deprive a piglet of his poorly-built abode. Too bad neither knew the fairy tale. Or in the [Saintess] case, didn't rember.
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"Bishop Wolfbane," She greeted him with a mischievous grin as she shifted her torso a bit straighter. "I would ask why the sudden visit, but that would be a disservice to your Mind score."
He raised a clawed and furry hand, revealing a crumpled piece of paper. "Tell this is a joke," he growled. "You did not request a trip to Pekothas."
Her peals of laughter echoed in the chamber. To the cantankerous [Bishop], it felt like a hundred fox-won were mocking him. After venting her mirth, she narrowed her eyes and spoke seriously. "I will, once I pen another request. The first one is in tatters, it seems."
"I need you here," he confessed with a lot of discomforts.
She let silence reign as she stared at a particular interesting smudge on the stained glass murals adorning the arched ceiling. Then she turned her head to face him again. "You had my absolute support for free for more than a century, Wolfsbane. It's not my fault that you failed to solidify your faction's position. Too many crusades, too little prayers or politics. That might be the reason why your Faith score suffers after all this ti. Now the ti has co for you to fulfill your end of our bargain. Do you rember our deal?"
She knew he did when his ears drooped slightly, followed by his anger deflating like a sli with a torn mbrane.
"The people I yearned to et for a century are finally born," she continued after he failed to utter anything coherent. "My heart and mind are no longer in this cathedral. I'm going to Pekothas whether you like it or not. I hope you see the benefits of keeping your side of our bargain and seeing off with our friendship intact. I don't have to remind you what the wolves in habits will do to you and your precious zealot faction if you don't."
The tips of the [Bishop]'s ears finished their trip to the top of his scalp. "Milady [Saintess], I need more ti," he humbly stated.
"I have to go, or I'll miss them. Even with my magic, it takes a lot of ti to travel to the other side of the world. Feel free to use my na as you have, I have no use for my political power but to make this trip happen. Don't dare deny that."
"The [Pope]..."
"... Is your problem," she bluntly interrupted him. "Solve the long-lasting dilemma of the church, who really sits on the Goddess' right side, if or her. I know on whom I'd bet."
He t her eyes. "The Church will not let you go. Even if you remove your support to my faction, I will not approve this trip. Hallstatt to the west is building up their army, they'll try to conquer the Evergold Plains next sumr. The King will not let all that grain fall to their hands, and you are needed here. The troops need your blessing."
The woman stood, her silk robes graciously falling around to cover her long legs as if they had a will of their own. The golden tail shone, causing the gold frieze on the walls and columns to light up as they reflected the light. With an effort of will, the [Saintess] cast a mighty spell. Then another one. [Bishop] Wolfsbane gasped and fell to his knees.
"What have you done?" Feeling betrayed, he stared at her.
"? Asked my beloved for a ride, no more, no less. Everything the [Saintess] does is the will of the Goddess," She replied as she sauntered around the werewolf and walked to the balcony. She willed doors open, letting the cold early Spring air into the room.
"The Goddess has spoken, Wolfsbane. You betrayed your vows before Her and She found you wanting. A sha, really," she suspired with disappointnt and turned around to et his eyes. "What She may grant, she may also take. Look at it from the bright side. You were never [Priest] material."
> Level 34 male Werewolf [Soldier]. Physical >> ntal >> Spiritual
"And maybe you shouldn't have neglected your second Path so," she continued. "Alas, neglect is a word that defines you so well, old friend."
They heard wings flapping, and a brunette halfling woman landed on the balcony. Wearing mage robes, she looked like one of the northern Halflings, a sturdy forest folk that raised the best war hounds. Behind her, two large draconic wings.
"You called for a ride?" The halfling smiled.
"An aspect!" Wolfsbane gasped but was duly ignored by the won.
The kitsune bowed and knelt to stand at the sa height as the newcor. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you, Rosewise. I know how important your work was at Uroko Bay."
"Bah," she scoffed and went to hug the [Saintess]. "I'd always make ti for you. How are you doing? It's been two thousand years since we last saw each other."
The blonde girl sniffled and sobbed, "I rember almost nothing. Just this feeling that I lost sothing."
"You lost nothing," Rosewise caressed the back of her head and cooed. "All in due ti. We will all be together once again. She hadn't forgotten you, otherwise, she wouldn't anoint you, miss [Saintess]. Now, why did you teleport all over the continent?"
"I need a ride to Pekothas," the [Saintess] begged with all her hopes and wishes, causing her voice to shake. "It is ti to et my long-estranged sister."
Rosewise sputtered and grunted as she slapped her own forehead. "Yeah, of course, you would. It seems you rember more than you let in. Unfortunately, you summoned the wrong one. You need Arista or Snowdrop to take you across continents fast. Sorry, old model," Rose finished with a self-derisive tone.
She giggled, "No, I think I got the right one. A damsel locked in the tallest tower like needs a knight in shining armor."
Both kitsune and golem laughed. Rose bowed and winked as she offered the [Saintess] the crook of her elbow. As she took it, Rose boasted, "Well, consider yourself rescued, my Lady. Off we go."
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