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[Bailos]

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On a list of things one would like to see a stream of sickly, purple energy barreling towards their face is not one of them.

It was a momentous day for Arch Bishop Mordrick. He and his caravan made a tour of Malas which was to conclude with an overnight stay in Luna after visiting several more cherished relics stored in the coffers of Luna's vaults. Unfortunately for Arch Bishop Mordrick he picked a poor time to drop in on the City of Light for in the woods nearby the edge of bridge lay in wait a snake-in-the-grass in the form of Bailos's long arm, Itullus.

A smattering of brigands, bribed for their services for the day, storms the road just as the caravan reaches sturdy ground! Flanking the party from behind the mercenaries have them totally surrounded. Previously watching from a safe distance, Itullus emerges from the woods with a distinct air of confidence about him, hands folded behind his back and chin up in the air.

Wading through his men he stands to confront the Arch Bishop whom preferred to remain on horseback.

I'm afraid you will have to be delayed today, Arch Bishop., barked Itullus.

What is the meaning of this harassment?! Have you no respect for Church?, retorted Mordrick.

Reaching his hands up about chest level, Itullus held his arms out, pointed his open palms at Mordrick and a rumble of thunder in the distance foreshadowed what spell Itullus was channeling. A brief crack of energy lept between Itullus's fingers before arcing bolt of sickly, purple energy charged forth and promptly removed Arch Bishop Mordrick from his post on horseback.

It would appear my faith is lacking... said Itullus, almost as an afterthought, returning his hands behind his back.

Signaling with his head, Itullus gave the order for the mercenaries to round up the rest of the troupe. Several of the brigands began disarming and undressing the Bishop's escort as they prepared for their masquerade.

Hurry up, men! We have an appointment to keep! barked Itullus.

Reaching into the pocket of his vest, he retrieved a thick, black pencil and a parchment with words scribbled on what looked to be an itinerary. With one left-to-right stroke he crossed off one of the items and tucked the papers back in.

Wiping the smile off of his face, they group began to process down the road.