Snippet #2538322

The air of this small batch of civilization was confounding for a moment, so many smells and taste in the air that could pull Dumah's attention off from his current path. After moving through the gate, the event playing out in front of him was a reason for why he sensed such magic.

Though such shows of illusion were common among the northern tribes, though he had to admit this woman's flair for the show was rather impressive. She told the story so well and with an eye for detail in all of her activities. He moves on however right as the cataclysm began to rain down on the world. He knew the stories all too well from living among his people and more so for its other variants as well. He just walked on until he found a stall not far from the corner, a trader with light brown eyes and several years in the fields on his face. Shown by the lines made from the sun as it graced his skin every day.

Dumah would look much the same were it not for his heritage, then again it could just be the way his body is permeated by such rejuvenating energies. It was something that he never really gave serious thought about.
He traded for several minutes with the older man, wares changing hands and items along with them. Dumah was able to acquire some loafs of bread for his satchel, something that was not easy to come about with in the wilds. He also got his hands on a small laminated wooden pipe, something that he had gone without for some time seeing as he broke his last one.

Those find their way into his bag, along with a few silver pieces for the herbs that he collected. Then again he could be out with it and speak of how someone like him, could come by such nice specimens.

As the last of the silver struck down the hair on the back of Dumah's neck bristled. He could feel an intense wave of magic in the air, being pulled towards the center of the square from where he walked and turned, breaking into a long strides. He comes around the corner just in time to see flames course through the air, only for the flickering flames to peter out in mid flight as they closed in on their target.

Many of the gathered crowed gasped in response as if at a loss for all words, but Dumah only stared on at the attacker. A man of advanced years who still bore small flickers of ember light on his fingers. His garish robes of dark red silk and silver brimming made him a deep contrast to the dirt of the small city.

To his knowledge, this man must be one of the Guardians that he has heard of in the past few years. Though places where he hails from have no real need for such individuals, for a community is its own defense.

He places a hand on the mans shoulder, a small tremble could be felt coursing through him as he looked up to Dumah. He was speechless for some reason but Dumah still felt the need to inform him with a point of his finger. That the woman he intended to immolate was still surrounded by innocent woman and children. The man is somewhat dumbstruck with that realization, though a look of anger is still running across his face.

He shrugs off the hand and steps away, disappearing from view in a huff.
The crowd begins to disperse as well seeing as what just happened, many not wanting to get caught in the uproar of what has just transpired.

Dumah approaches the woman, who was the source of his ire, stopping at only a few feet away.

"Quite a site to see if I do say so myself, though he could have been more cautious of the people... Did I hear the word heresy?" He asked with a lean to his head, evident of the question.