Dara stirred absently at the herb mix in the pot, now broken down into something like a gritty soup. She looked at Andy when he spoke but otherwise focused on the fire.

"I don't really know" she said when asked who the others were. "I found one of them injured when crossing through Thermopylae. He said his name was John, but the man in the brown coat called him Michael." She shrugged. "The man in the brown coat, he says his name is Lev, but he is also a demon the others call Na'lsa. I'm not really sure what to make of them." She continued stirring and looking at the fire. The other three are Dante, Feenai, and the old man is Shealtiel. I don't know who anyone else around here is. We just arrived. I was foraging while the others investigated the settlement here."

Changing position, she took the small pot off the fire and poured some into a cup, putting the cup off to the side and the pot back in the fire. She looked back to Andy. "I'm not sure how to fix a hoof, but a shoe would probably keep it together until the crack grows out."

She tested the outside of the cup, and when it was cool enough to hold, she passed it to Andy.

"It won't kill you. It probably wont taste all that good either, but it might help with the poison."

Andy took the proffered cup lightly, and sipped at it. She was right. It didn't taste good. It tasted terrible. But he was long since used to eating and drinking things he found revolting. And THIS particular foul concoction was supposed to be good for him. Maybe it would ease the dizziness.

When Dara introduced the others to the best of her ability, he nodded at each description in turn, his mind working out a few things completely on its own.

At least two of the people in this party are lying about who they are. The rest are probably well-rooted to the group. No one I have to be wary of. Yet. Except maybe that... whatever she is. That power is staggering, and not something I want to be on the wrong side of.

He continued drinking the herbal mixture, feeling some of the dizziness and nausea abating. Whatever else Dara was, she was a decent apothecary. Andy gave her marks for that.

"I apologize for my sudden appearance..." he said, tail flicking behind him lightly. "If there is something I can do to help you, or the others, in my current condition, I would be happy to oblige... just tell me."

A shoe on his hoof? He'd decide about that later. It didn't sound all that comfortable... then again, neither did a split hoof. Which, judging by the pain, was exactly what he had.

"Pfft. Fine." Dante shook his arm gently out of Feenai's grasp and flopped over reluctantly, then slowly stood up.

...Hm? he wondered, glancing backwards. Where'd everyone go...? Not bothering to brush off anything below his waist, he walked forward a few paces after replacing the gun. A slight tilt of his head betrayed his curiosity towards the newcomer, at whom he was doing his best to focus his "sight" on.

Not exactly human...?

Not sure about herself's or Dante's balance, Feenai put her arm around his waist and walked them to where Dara was. She was fine, tending a pot of foul smelling broth, but the real surprise was the man she was tending to. Feenai tried her best to contain her shock at his appearance, but immediately dropped it as she felt the pain from him. She surmised that he would only be a danger if someone attacked him and he felt in danger.

"Dante, the man with Dara is hurt and probably won't do anything to us," she whispered to him. "Please only act in defense but try to keep watch for any dangers around us?"

Feenai released Dante and slowly approached the man. "My name is Feenai." As she spoke, she bowed slightly while keeping her gaze steady. She sent her mind out to him and felt some psychic powers and shuddered slightly, the psychic assault still fresh in her memory. His felt different though, so she remained calm and waited to see what would happen.

Andy felt the tentative probe of his mind. Instead of retaliating, he paused, calmed his thoughts, and formed them into what essentially would be an extended hand. An invite, as it were. He had nothing to hide, so he would let her into his mind if she wanted to delve into it.

"My name is Andarel." he said with a light smile, canting his head toward her. "I mean you no harm. And even if I did, I doubt I would be able to act on it."

He took the last little bit of the herbal medicine, shuddered, and handed the cup back to Dara.

"I am sorry if my presence is causing you fright or alarm." he said, again apologizing... He must have been used to it. "Again... I wish to help."

Dara nods to acknowlsge Feenai's presence, and then -half forgetting that Dante technically couldn't see, she cleared her thoat softy and asked them "where have the others gone?"

Dante gave a sigh of exasperation. Did he look as if he was about to lunge at the man's throat and tear it out for no apparent reason?

...Maybe I do. Oops. He turned halfway towards Dara as she coughed quietly.

"I was...wondering about that, myself. Far enough that I can't...see...them. I mean, I suppose that very, very faint purple blue should mean something," he added, waving a hand in the general direction of Shealtiel while trying to rid his ears of an incessant buzz that could only be explained by his recent headache.

"I was..." Feenai started, then stopped for a breath before continuing, "unconscious for a time, and I think they decided to check on something Na'lsa found irresistible." While speaking she gave a sort of mental nod to Andarel and withdrew her mind from his. "There was a tremendous psychic assault and I believe the nephilim was involved. I have no desire to be anywhere near something like that, so I wished to find you Dara. I couldn't walk well after my fainting spell, but Dante was kind enough to help me come to where you were." She blushed briefly at remembering how he had helped.

Feenai walked to where Andarel was and knelt before him, extending her hand. "Your presence may have caused me slight alarm but your words and actions make me want to be your friend. If I can help you I would be happy to accept your help in return."

Dara was a little surprised that Feenai should come looking for her in particular, or maybe it was only because Dara happened to be the absent member of the group. "Did you need something?" She adds a little more by way of conversation.

"I'm still not sure what a nephilim is supposed to be. But I suppose it doesn't matter. It is what it is, and what it's up to is more important then what created it."

Na'lsa laughed under his breath, not seeming to care what exactly lay shrouded inside. He stepped forward, follow Asasiah.

"Then we shall murder the Murderer."

In the back of his mind, Na'lsa felt a slight stirring of fear. Whether it was his or Lev's was to be decided, but he stifled it quickly. Within this shrine, this unknown temple lay something extraordinary. And if he could have just one taste of the forbidden meat that sprung forth from the consumers of the forbidden fruit, well...he salivated at the thought. He had been surviving on meat that served to only fuel his need for consumption. Something like this...would be a spectacular boon.

There was no room for fear. Only hunger. Only desire. He would devour or die. He mentally prepared himself for what lay ahead, and crossed the threshold of the shrine.

The interior of the Basillica is shadowed by the fractured daylight breaking through the cracks and gaps in the roof. Several feet off from the entrance, a body lies motionless, crumpled in a heap, limbs bent at impossible angles -- Kasdeja.

Of his attacker, there is no visible sign, though a... stain seems to hang in the air near the center of the sanctuary, amid fallen columns and shattered statuary. It radiates an abysmal power, ancient, alien, and sublimely, horribly aware.

From the motionless form of the Nephilim, a pathetic plea is breathed on a sigh of anguish. "Kill... him."

Before any of them can respond, however, a hollow, chasmal voice fills the chamber, the very sound of it seeming to slay the sunlight and cast them into darkness.



THAT IS ILL ADVISED, AS YOUR PATHETIC, ABOMINABLE COMPANION MAY ATTEST.

YOU STAND IN THE PRESENCE OF A SINNER OLDER THAN HELL.

WHY HAVE YOU COME?

She knew who the stranger was immediately, if she was still the mindless follower of god, she may care about the father of sin being here. But, she did not care, she wanted to kill him, but only because the notion seemed fun.

"Ah, so you are the cause of the disturbance here, I had wondered...but I had hoped for something more interesting. Killing you might be a suitable farewell to this dismal island, a good memory to entertain myself with in the future" Asasiah was nothing but cocky, perhaps a fault, but the flaming sword that slid out from her hand, and the power that seeped in waves from her could be rather intimidating.

"The nephilim..."

Na'lsa whispered, eyes fixated on the broken figure. Deep within him he felt the lust of hunger for that body. The twisted figure that had imposed himself on them. The sweet nectar that coursed through its veins. The meat was a treasure, but the power that filled that body was the real prize.

He cleared the distance between him and the crumpled figure, falling to his knees before it. His pupils grew as his bloodlust began to consume him. With ill intent in his voice, he spoke loudly for those present to hear.

"Nephilim, your flesh is forfeit!"

Andy shook his head quietly, and smiled at Feenai. He tail twitched back and forth as he sat there, but that was really the only part of him that wasn't in pain right at present.

"I do not believe what help I need is worth taking up your precious time." he murmured. "But if there is anything I can do to alleviate your own situation... please, do not hesitate to ask. I will do what I can... although I fear if it requires fighting, you may find me in poor practice."

He set down the tea, and reached toward his ankle to rub it. Probably twisted it. So he could add a twisted ankle to the myriad of things that were wrong with him. It seemed as though he was becoming more of a burden, with the more things he discovered about himself. But... he supposed that was the way of it, wasn't it?

For now, he was content to sit there and attempt some sort of recovery. The herbal infusion he was drinking was indeed helping the pain a great deal.

"As to becoming friends? I would absolutely love to. Where I come from..." he trailed off for a moment, voice going softer. "I have never had a friend."

AND LO, THE LORD SAID, "GO TO THE BASTARDS, TO THE REPROBATES, TO THE OFFSPRING OF IMMORALITY, AND DESTROY THEM!" AND THE NEPHILIM WERE TERRIFIED, SEIZED WITH FEAR AND TREMBLING.

The demon's maw descends, slavering, smiling in a holy ecstasy. Na'lsa falls upon the Nephilim, and the Nephilim screams.

The sound is a javelin of anguish hurled into the ether, piercing to the core of every mind on the Isle. Kasdeja's broken body flails in impotence, his broken mind hurls pitiful blows against the demon's crazed psyche to no avail. Eventually, his efforts cease, his cries dwindle to whimpers, and then to silence.

And Cain watches all, impassive, a gaping wound in this moment, untouched by feeling or empathy of any kind, bleeding out the apathy of the aeons-dead.

In the interminable quiet that follows, broken only by the sounds of gnawing, of blood-oozing swallows, the apparition speaks once more.

TO THE DEMON WITHIN YOU, HYBRID, I SAY THIS: I HAVE ENDURED FAR TOO MANY WINTERS IN THE WASTES OF SHEOL TO REMEMBER WHAT IT IS TO FEAR. YOU WILL TAKE NOTHING FROM ME.

AND TO YOU, URIEL, CRIPPLED AND DEFILED, MUTANT HOUND OF METATON'S MAD CONCEPTION, I WILL REMIND YOU, I HAVE KNOWN YOUR FIRE BEFORE. I STOOD FROM AFAR AND LUSTED AT THE GATES OF EDEN, DRIVEN TO WONDER BY THE GLAMOUR OF YOUR SWORD. I WAS A CHILD, ONCE, BORN BENEATH A BRIGHTER SUN. AND WE MET AGAIN ATOP THE INFINITE STAIR, BEFORE HEAVEN'S ADAMANTINE GATES. OH, HOW YOU SNAPPED AT THE LEASH OF THE LORD, SO EAGER TO SPILL MY MURDEROUS BLOOD. YOU HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN, HAVE YOU?

I STILL BEAR THE MARK, BUT IT CAN NO LONGER PRETEND TO MEANING IN THIS, OUR FALLEN WORLD. THE GOD OF ADAM MY FATHER CAN NO LONGER STAY YOUR HAND. SO BE IT. IF WHAT BEGAN THAT DAY WHEN I DROVE MY SPEAR THROUGH ABEL'S BACK HAS LED TO THIS...

LET US END IT NOW.

The threat in the spirit's words is manifest, and yet, for all the deadly resolution there, he seems content to let Asasiah strike the first blow....

'and you still ought to wonder why east of Eden would lead west of the apple...suspicious that he would reside here...nonetheless' Michael drew both his shield and the new psychic gun. If Asasiah were to move, there would be little time to react. This was not his fight. He needed to observe.