A tale of Oscura: That smelly Bastard.
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[[color=red:cf01e7385e]Warning: These tales are rated R for strong language, suggestive themes and violence.]
Narfell presents a tale of Oscura;
The lunatic Elf._It was just another ordinairy day in the city beneath the ground, just another ordinairy day until I meet the one elf that was about to fuck it up. Fuck it up good, too.
I was having a drink at the Shiney Coppers, keeping my eyes out for that hot waitress that usually tends the tables there. She's got blonde hair and a nervous attitude, which is just fine by me as long as I can enjoy the view. Anyways, my drink's warm and it's beginning to taste as shitty as the town's water supply. I glance towards the door, then to my drink, and back to the exit again. It's looking mighty tempting now, I got no reason to stay in here, might as well go see of Chaevre's finished with her little brats she teaches and test out more spells with her.
I make sure my mask is on snug, pull my cowl up and take my leave towards the door. The bouncer gives me a glare like the pompous piece of shit he is, I ignor him.
As I walk outside, I see Chaevre, some elf, and that Drelan guy on the ground panting for air, Chaevre's got her greatsword out. The elf, I hadn't met him before, I glide up next to him, looking down at that Drelan, then up to Chaevre who seems to have some sadistic spark in her eye that instantly sets me off.
"Cheavre. Something wrong?" I ask, more focused on that look in her eye than anything else. "I'll explain later, Von." She glances to me, her skin still as white as snow, those endless dark eyes still amused. She was enjoying this Drelan guy's pain. Enjoying it alot.
I lower my voice to the elf beside me, only noticing him then. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Von. The new tribunal member for the Order of Discord." The elf keeps his deathless, dull gaze on the dear-dead guy on the ground. He's wearing a mask, too. One of those really scary ones that'd give a kid nightmares for the rest of his life. Those are my favorites.
"I know you are. And well met, I'm Scyth." He responds; he's got one of those dull, emotionless voices that somehow seem to brim with confidence. Scyth and I look down and watch as the guy struggles a bit more, then I notice Chaevre's brats are there, too. Shala and Ela, I think their names are. They're little kids from the surface, not that I give a damn about them. If Chaevre's teaching them, they've got to have some talent, if any.
It doesn't take me long to decide who to help. Chaevre's given me a hand a bunch of times before; removing that annoying light from my amulet, testing negative energy spells with me. Yeah, she's the one I choose to channel her healing into. I brush my way past the kids, lowering my voice to a whisper near Chaevre's ear, still keeping my grey pupils locked on Drelan, who's clutching a wound and looking pretty fucking bad.
"Your wounds, Chaevre?" She flicks her eyes to me, I can still see the joy that she's having from watching the guy suffer. "Yes." She whispers back, turning her full focus back on the near dear guy. I figure she must be one of those sadists, or maybe a loviatorite, to take so much damn pleasure into other people's hurt. Not like I give a damn. I hear her wounds wiht the usual pitch black light, while Scyth just loses interest, bored, heading to the well.
One of her little brats speak up, with a clichéd kid's voice, all unsure and doubtfull. "Um.. Teacher.. We'll be upstairs." Chaevre looks to them and nods. While I'm walking past, I watch them go into the coppers and wonder if there's some lunatic serial killer with a knife sitting at a table that'd just be brimming with excitement at seeing two helpless kids walk into the bar. So excited he'd follow them up to their rooms and sharpen his knife on their bones. Wouldn't surprise me to hear the news tomarrow with the town crier shouting his usual 'hear ye hear ye' garbage.
"I'll be at the well with Scyth." I glance back to Chaevre, making my way towards that elf I had met earlier. In case you arent wondering, that elf I mentioned that's going to fuck my day up good? Scyth's the one. I didn't know it at the time, but he's got to be one screwed up son-of-a-bitch to have done what he did. You'll find that out soon enough.
"Studying the well?" I ask, using the same melodic fake voice I've been using all my life in Oscura. "Yes… it's fascinating, Von." He responds, his mask locked onto it, captivated. "Don't study too hard, if you catch my drift." He gives me a look. I continue, "A woman went near insane looking at that well, once. I was told she murdered her entire familey." And it was true, too. A woman had killed her loved ones out of a brink of madness just because she was looking at some sparkly light filled well.
He just shook his head, hinting a grin on his emotionless mask. "I'm going to the coppers, gonna invite Chaevre along, too. Care want to join us?" He nods, glancing towards the entry door that I had just left some hour or so ago. "I'll be along in a moment, Chaevre, Von." He states, turning his attention back to the thousand-or-so souls that are flowing through the diabolic device we know as the Soul Well. "Sure. We'll save a seat for you."
I walk back towards the Coppers, Chaevre was standing near a bench watching Scyth and I as we chatted. She follows me into the Coppers, Scyth joins us soon after just like he said he would. We have a few drinks. I spot Drelan out of the corner of my eye, having a drink alone at one of the opposite tables. He must of gathered himself and dragged himself into the bar for a try at relaxation after the beat-down Chae handed him.
Scyth, Chaevre and I find a nice table with three spots. We begin talking, and after a while we invite Drelan over. After a winded conversation about 'good' and 'bad' and all the same shit that I usually get from fanatic paladins, who enjoy shoveling it right into my ears, Scyth has to take a piss. Chaevre and I figure the conversation's lasted long enough, tell him we'll wait for him outside, and beat it on out of the door into the city. "Care to help me test those negative energy spells some more, Chaevre?" I ask, while we walk. "Sure. The temple?"
Before I can answere, I spot the biggest slice of female pie I'd ever seen across the bench from me. Something isn't right with this one, though, I quickly realise. She's got sort of pointed ears and it's almost as if her lip curvs upward a bit too much… sort of looking a bit like a half demon, but not really. "A new face." Chaevre says, looking her over. "...Indeed." I reply.
We both make our way towards her, ignoring our plans to test negative energy. I watch her for a moment, before saying the usual crap I say to people I meet for the first time in Oscura, which goes something along the lines of: "Greetings. I don't believe we've met, you must be new to the city. My name is Von Du'Sharr. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." She smiles back. Why the hells is she so at ease? "Pleasure's mine. My name is Shawnna."
Shawnna. That's the demon witch that two-bit bard Elor told Chaevre and I about a few days back. I glance to Chaevre, checking her reaction. She glances back to me with the same intent. I look back to her, watching her breath, watching her smile and watch me. I don't know whether or not I want to make sure she doesn't try anything, (that Elor guy gave us a good warning about this one) or if I just want to look at her and have my fill of her sight. All I know is that I'm watching her._
Chaevre looks to Von as he glares at the woman with some saturation and vidness in his grey eyes, behind his usual mask, before looking back to Shawnna herself.
Something happens. She smiles back at me, yeah. But that smile, that look in her eye, something is urking me. Then I feel it; I feel my eyes itch, a tickle in the back of my head. What's happening to me?
Von stumbles slightly backward, holding his masked visage, taking a panted breath, gritting his teeth and wincing briefly.
_'What the fuck is she doing to me?' I wonder to myself calmly, trying to gather myself. Soon the pain stops, I didn't let it show too much; you'd be surprised what sheer force of will can do. I stand up straight again, taking one last breath to put out the fire in my burning lungs. Shawnna, Chaevre and I continue conversing for a little while, just some casual bored conversation. If you ask me about Shawnna, I'd probobly tell you she's one of those ladies who're so full of themselves that they think they can talk down to anyone. Sort of like that sailor chump from Peltarch, Deacon Sterr, I think his name was. Yeah, just one of those ladies.
And that's when my day takes a turn for the worse.
Slimy footsteps run across the Oscuran dirt, charging Shawnna, Chaevre and I. I glance, glaring at it and reaching for the longsword at my side. Chaevre utters an incantaion, focusing herself on it's muscles and making them rot. It's a ghoul, a green and disgusting humanoid with no face and clawed fingers. Chaevre's spell does most of the damage, I glide back, letting it come to me before I swing across it's chest to cut into it's guts. Shawnna, like Chaevre, wiggles her fingers and murmurs a small keyphrase, shimmering projectiles appearing and slamming unto the thing.
Yeah we killed it, killed it good. "What the hells was that?" Chaevre asks, frowning in annoyance. I lean down, pressing my boot into it's neck to make sure it stays still, watching it's facial expression. "A ghoul." Shawnna looks around nervously, probobly trying to pull a scared little girl act. I push my weight off the thing, and finally notice that the well is glowing a little brighter than usual.
"Chaevre, look." I pointed my sword towards it, she glances, and simply says: "Shit." Scyth finally comes out from the coppers tavern, walking calmly across the commons to Chaevre and I, looking to the well. "Scyth! It's acting up again." I call towards him, his mask almost seems to be smiling. "Mmm.. beautifull."
I had almost forgot about Scyth's fetish for that thing. He seems to enjoy looking at it, and trying ti find out what makes it tic. Chaevre and I stand back, glaring around and looking for more demons. Scyth keeps tossing magic in it, his eyes wide as he watches the well's reaction to the various energies. At one point, my mind just blanked and all I wanted to do was touch it. Chaevre, Scyth and I were standing mighty near it, too, until we blinked out of it. "Get back!" That crazy elf shouted, gripping my robe and tossing me further from the well. Chaevre threw herself after me, spotting the black tentacles sprouting from the well and reaching over. And Scyth… Scyth just stood there.
"I need to find a place to eat, and gather my magic." Chaevre growls, on guard and trying to make sure no more demonic fucks trying to blindside us. "Let's look. Scyth! Hurry up with that well!" I call over, figuring he's trying to find a way to close it. He just steps a little closer, and I make the biggest mistake of the night -- I don't give it a second thought. I leave Scyth with his well, and follow Chaevre to look for a calm spot around town. By now the well has it shaking, all bright with crazy lights. Disgusting, if you ask me.
After a few minutes of searching; the grim bottle, kerol's steel, that stupud kid and her corner shop -- We realise none of them have any food and we make our way back to see if Scyth's succeeded in closing the well. When we get back, we see a hin shivering in the corner, and Shawnna's gone. Scyth's standing two feet from the well, clutching some amulet and holding it into the light. He's chanting harsh prayers, you could of seen his rib cage expand and retract with each word, mouth gritted and wide with every articulation.
"What the fuck is he doing?" Exclaims Chaevre, while I glared towards him. "Scyth!" Noxious gases quickly erupt from the ground below us. It burned my eyes, and stung my throat. I could barely even see through the sour tears it caused, I was coughing madly and so was Chaevre. "Scyth!" I called, through coughs.
The entire place was shaking perpetually, now. That fucking elf had gone and messed with something he shouldn't of, I'm thinking. "Scyth! Scyth!" I call out through the mist, gas and smoke, but I can only see his shadow, an outline of his body stepping into the well. What the hells was he doing? What the hells was he thinking?
"Screw it; focus on staying alive, Von. Fuck Scyth, he'll be fine. Focus on staying alive." I keep thinking to myself, bringing the cloth of my robe to try and prevent the smoke from entering my already fiery lungs. Chaevre is next to me, on the ground, holding a rag to her mouth.
After a few moments of struggling, the well stops unleashing it's shit-gas and we can finally stand up again. I look to Chaevre, barely gathered myself. She's fine, that hin we had spotted is fine, as well. Shawnna's pretty much beat it, and Scyth is nowhere to be found._
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Narfell presents a tale of Oscura;
That smelly Bastard._Just another ordinairy night in Oscura, just another ordinairy, normal smelling night. No way in the hells did I suspect it would wind up the way it did by dawn. If you've just joined us, you don't yet know about me or any of Oscura's local citizens. Alot of shit happens in Oscura, alot more shit than anywhere else. Some of it's pretty fucking gross, too. And what happened that night was just that.
I'm sitting in the center of the city, relaxing and staring into the soul well, wondering if at any given moment that lunatic elf, Scyth, is gonna pop on out and say 'hello' from whatever pit of the hells he's in, when I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. I glance up, seeing it's Corde, the high Templar. I ask him if everything's alright, he answeres 'yes' and takes a seat beside me, breathing in the well's pain.
The soul well's a pretty funny thing; if you find devils, demons and shit like that humorous. Just the other day this guy faught off an Eryiness, which in lamen's terms means "devil slut who almost cut our fucking guts out," and we barely made it out alive. Anyway, Corde and I are sitting at the soul well, and we get to talking. Eventually we decide we're bored, and consider heading down south to that barbarian dirt-town and explore it's forest. One thing you've got to remember about Norwick's forest, the Rawlins I mean, is that it's infested with pimple popping, revolting little pieces of shit known as Goblins.
Corde and I figured we'd do the barbarians a favor by slaughtering a few if the little bastards and maybe even grabbing some of their stuff; not that any goblin has ever had anything of real value. So we travel south and after an hour or two, finally arrive to you-know-where. Norwick doesn't allow masks so we make like we're avoiding the cold and we both pull our cowls up tight. Not like I'm giving any of these stupid dirt-farmers a chance at my face.
We stride through without a sound, and refasten our masks when we get to the other side of the walls, at the forest's border near some lake and shoddy dock. I take a moment to kneel and pray on a flat spot of the forest's shadowed snow, feeling my lady's power flow within me. When I finally open my eyes from the prayer, Corde asks if I'm ready. I give him an icy smile and we both know it's time.
Time to get some killing done, that is. Keeping the robe over my suit of armor to make sure no one spots it, I follow Corde past the dock into the forest. It doesn't take us long to spot a few of the little green bastards, my sword feels cold and stiff in my hand with the cold and the first thing I do when one runs up to me sneering with that little face of his is warm it up with it's blood. It's barely matured, one of the smaller ones – why it's charging me I have no clue, only one thing's for sure: it's dead now.
I take a small step back, swinging my longsword horizontally across the Goblin's chest to spew cherry pie over the snow behind it. Corde smirks behind his helm at the dead thing. "Nice swing," He says, "Thanks," I reply. We continue walking deeper into the forest, massacring each and every last one we lay our eyes on.
We're only around ten minutes into the slaughter when the ground starts shaking. "Shit..." I whisper under my breath, glancing to Corde who just put one of the little-green-men out cold with his club, he glances back. "Von, behind you!" I turn around, grey pupils widening behind my purple and black mask. An umberhulk's standing their, right behind me, sneering with that big blue jaw of his. It's tentacles slithering from it's mouth, almost dropping some saliva on my mask, until I finally decide it's better to put some distance between me and big-ugly here.
It swings a blow into the ground, I barely manage to jump and slide backward in the snow. "Corde, blind it!" I shout, avoiding another swing of it's massive arms. My partner runs up behind it, moving his hands along the air and uttering something. "Fuck, his spell didn't work," I tell myself. It must of heard him incant, because now it's turning it's all too unwanted attention his way. It's way too strong, the ground shivers and shutters with each hit it misses.
"Von," Corde says, as he moves left and right in his defensive stance to make sure he isn't hit by the damn thing's claws, "We run. Are you ready?" I utter a shield spell for good measure, then glare his way, sheathing my sword and reaching towards my chest into my robe. "On my mark..." The amulet's saved my ass more than once. I clutch it tight and utter the keyword under my breath. "NOW!"
Corde, the hulk and I are surrounded by a magical shadow. Not one of us can see a damn thing, but we're used to it, the hulk isn't. We charge east, leaving the over-sized bug in the dark, our feet stepping heavily through the snow. After a few moments of running, we finally reach the lake and dock; the ones near the forest's entrance. I glance back to make sure the fucker didn't dare follow us, and all I see is trees. I can't help but smirk at the thought of it stumbling around blindly in the dark we left it in.
"That was fairly unsuccesfull." I murmur under my breath, resting an elbow on the cold wood of the dock's fence. Corde presses a hand into one of his wounds, sealing it in a pitch black light before looking my way with a neutral expression. "She did not want us to succeed." He states, calmly. I give him a look, then think about it briefly. "That's possible. Our goal wasn't exactly noble to Her cause. We might of been destined to a better result should we of done something more suiting to Her needs."
He nods, considering, "Perhaps." Making sure we still have all our pieces, we make our way towards Norwick's gates. We're just about safe-and-sound in the city's walls when we both hear a small 'clank' on Corde's armor. We stop dead in our tracks, looking down at the sound. It's a pebble; a rock about the size of a fist. We glance back to the gate, glaring at it, wondering who would dare throw a rock at a dark robed guy who just went for a stroll deep within the spooky forest for a casual stroll and massacre in the middle of the night.
We then glance at eachother. "Whoever messes with Her clergy is clearly misguided." I mention coolly. We both make our way to the gate. My grey eyes look around with a cold stare, Corde's green ones do the same. And then we spot him.
He's standing near the dock, giggling and pointing at Corde. A goblin, snickering hissingly, almost rolling on the ground with laughter. A real fucking psycho goblin. "The hells do you think you are..?" Corde asks, calmly, tilting his head at the goblin. "My powers are faded, She isn't with me right now." I whisper to Corde, my hand inching towards my sword. "Mine either, we'll deal with this one accordingly, though." He replies in a hushed tone, we both nod discretely, eyes locked on the little green freak in front of us.
It gets a certain glint in it's eye, and charges me with a spell. We dig our feet into the ground, snorts as it incants, trying to hit me with a disease spell. No thanks, no dice, I grit my teeth, knowing that kind of magic won't work on me, swinging at the fucker with my sword. I hit him square in the chest -- It's eyes widen, it turns right around and starts running. Good; we got it scared, now we can proceed with killing the damn thing. Always funner when they run.
Corde and I both have none of the powers we usually pray for, granted by our goddess, but we don't hesitate at chasing it. My eyes are narrowed, focused on keeping one foot in front of another, keeping a balance. We must of chased it for a good few minutes, before it finally dissapeared behind a few trees. Catching our breath, evening it out. "We don't press further into the forest. Not without Her powers with us." Corde speaks, and I couldn't agree more. There's no way we're going to chase that little yellow fuck right into whatever trap it's probobly set for us.
We start walking back towards the town, considering the matter dealt with. We arrive at the lake, and guess who we see? Psycho goblin waiting for us at the dock, pointing and laughing some more, smacking it's fist up and down on the wood. My eyes narrow, so do Corde's because he probobly notices the same thing I do: The object the goblin's holding in it's left hand.
"Kill it." He growl under my breath, I'm growing pretty pissed at being laughed at so much, especially by the likes of a goblin. The goblin stops laughing and freezes, it's beedy eyes darting around before finally waving whatever toy it had in it's hand around. A mass of shadows sprout from the ground and conceal it, as well as the entire dock. "What the fuck?" I think to myself.
"No, wait." Corde extends his hand across my chest and stops me from charging it. The darkness evaporates, and the goblin starts laughing hysterically and loudly, barely able to wave it's toy around again. An obscure patch of grease appears on the ground between us and the goblin. "Slowly now, Von..." I nod calmly, we both start walking through the dark patch towards the Goblin, hands near our weapons. I figure we won't kill it just yet, maybe just get close enough to grab it and take it's toy away.
It backs up to the edge of the dock, that stupid little grin on it's face. I couldn't wait to feel my cold steel press into it's brains so I could twist the hilt and give it hell. We're almost there, Corde extends his hand out in friendship, maybe trying to buy us some time, I don't know. It throws itself forward and rolls past us, waving it's toy around and surrounding Corde and I with shadows.
"Real fucking smart, like the dark scares us." I roll my eyes, thinking and sighing mentally. "Corde, let's just kill it." We turn around, squinting through the dark cloud, trying to spot where it went. "No, something is odd about this goblin, Von. It's a trickster... it enjoys other people's humiliation."
"Yeah, so?" I sigh annoyedly. "Watch out, Von. There's a trap ahead of you." Too late, I feel the wire against my leg in the dark, and soon the noxious gas fill my now burning lungs. "Urgh!" Corde curses under his breath, and finally steps out from the darkness. Waving the gas from my face, I move to follow him but I freeze. There's something at my shin.
I lean down to check it out, I feel cold steel press the back of my knee. "No move, dagger sharps." A goblin's voice whispers from the shadows. Just my fucking luck, there's two of them. The darkness clears, and I'm perfectly still, whispering back. "You don't know who your messing with, do you?" It doesn't respond.
I watch Corde across the snowy feild, trying to talk to the giggling psycho. "Look, what's this? A coin behind your ear?" He's trying to amuse it long enough so he can snatch the toy it's got, obviously.
This is the part of the story that I mentioned in the beginning. This is the part that gets "pretty fucking gross." The goblin throws itself on the coin. While it's on the ground, it grits it's teeth, extends it's neck and farts a big fucking cloud of green, covering Corde in one hell of a stink. "Gah!" He exclaims, waving the air from his face. "The HELLS?"
I shift my eyes back to check if the goblin's still there, it's distracted or disinterested, now. I shove my way past and draw my sword, glaring around for the other goblin. "Corde, you alright?" He stumbles towards me, gritting his teeth at the stink. "Fine. Where the hells did he go?" We both look around, I lower my voice to whisper: "There's two of them." He nods discretely, responding. "I know, I spotted the other one earlier."
"Heheheheh!" We hear a familiar hissing giggle from behind a tree, and then another "Pfsftsh!" sound. "Oh fuck no," I think to myself, spotting another big green aura of stink. "Did he just fart!?" I shout out, holding the cloth of my robe to cover the stench. Corde waves his way through, an annoyed twitch in his eye. "Kill it." He finally decides.
I draw steel, looking around. I still don't have the time to focus on praying for powers. There's noise, it's pretty damn bright and worst of all; it smells worse than a corpse. That goblin is running around, farting it's ass off and giggling in the process. Every inch of me wants to get some killing done.
"What the heck is this?" I glance to my right, seeing that barbarian guy, Jarek, and some girl he's with. Corde grabs my shoulder and pulls me behind a tree, lowering his voice. "Cover me while I pray for powers, the barbarian will distract him long enough while I do." I nod, keeping my sword balanced at my side, pressing my back against the tree to eye the goblin, the barbarian and the girl.
That smelly bastard runs around, farting, picking it's nose and tossing its snots around. Don't say I didn't warn you this one was gonna get damn gross. Corde finally steps out from the shadows he prayed in, looking around with stern eyes behind his mask. "Your turn."
I shift my way between the trees towards the dark spot Corde chose, kneel and close my eyes. Murmuring my nightly prayers. Opening my eye to glance west, it's almost dawn. I quickly finish the prayer and murmur my thanks, while I feel the usual wave of power flow through my body.
Corde's back with the barbarian and the girl, dealing with the psycho goblin. The other sneak is probobly still around here somewhere. I utter the usual keyphrases, my longsword swirls with shadows and magical energy. I'm ready for him, that smelly bastard. When I step out from the woods, I spot Corde who's gripping the Goblin's arm and trying to pry it's toy loose. Take away the toy, and the he becomes just another goblin, I think, with a smirk.
I charge in close to help him, ignoring the stench of all the fucking farts it let rip during the course of our tale. Soon after I start helping Corde with a second grip, it starts shuddering and shivering. "Oh no..." It squeels and farts another big wet stinker.
"Gods damn it! Not more bloody farts!" I growl, tightening my grip, the stench scratching at my nose. "Kill it!" I keep my grip on it's hair with one hand, Corde's still trying to pry the toy loose. Reaching for my sword, drawing it from it's sheath, I'm pretty damn relieved it's still got the shadows and fire I charged it with earlier, and I swing for the goblin's neck, hitting it dead on.
Nothing. No damage, no effect. My sword's at it's maximum efficiency and not even a fucking scratch. "Damn it!" Corde growls as well. The barbarian and the girl are stumbling around, avoiding the big green puff of fart that's in the air. "To hells with this, we take our leave now," Corde continues, in a growled whisper, "Let the barbarian deal with him."
"Your sure?" I ask, holding it's hair and pressing my sword into it's neck, whispering across the crying goblin to Corde, who's gripping it's arm. "Would I say it if I wasn't? It's protected by some sort of magic, we can't kill it, not at this moment." He replies quickly. We let the goblin loose, and it scurries over to continue to run around and fart.
Ignoring it entirely, we make our way to the Norwick gate, push it open and walk inside, leaving the smelly piece of shit to it's stench and Jarek. We make haste through Norwick, not giving the chaos we left behind us a second glance. Corde had gotten ahold of the Goblin's warhammer, he and I are going to scry that later on and maybe indulge ourselves in a little revenge, but for now, we had to focus on another problem...
All the way through the nars, all the way into Oscura, the same smell, the same fucking stench followed us. Bandits we're coughing like crazy, birds were flying into trees, some we're fainting mid-air and dropping to the ground with a thud. The wind must of picked up, because the whole damn nars was smelling bad then. Bandits kept asking "what the hells is that smell?"
That disgusting shit-bag of a goblin even had lice, I had to wash my hair eight times after that fucking fiasco. Even the Oscura guards covered their noses, probobly wanting to ask the same thing. "Don't even start." Corde murmurs at the guard. "Not a word about the smell." I mutter annoyedly.
We werent able to get rid of the smell, and had to burn our robes._
