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Chorus	Following the directions of the mortal monk Tranquil Lake proves easy enough: All Makara has to do is make his way uphill, towards the widely visible palace in the city's center, then keep an eye out for the familiar trappings of an Immaculate temple. Pasiap-Hews-the-Unyielding temple was erected by Orenzan's new prince, Sesus Asidru, only a handful of years ago, and it shows: Scarcely any bird droppings, no visible sings of age mar its stark white walls and majestic, steadfast marble columns. It is a large hexagonal structure with several smaller side buildings, all the more imposing by being the solitary building in the center of a great plaza. As a holy site of the Realm's Immaculate Order, the temple is strictly devoid of icons. Instead, sutras praising Pasiap's deeds (and those of the other four Immaculate Dragons) adorn the walls, the metal glyphs of the High Realm script probably indecipherable for the majority of Orenzan's population. As a Chosen of the Dragons, "Frigid Dread" is treated with great reverence by the monks in attendance, especially when if he mentions having been sent here by Tranquil Lake. Inside the main hall, he finds a great altar on a dais, and rows of stone benches for devotees to sit while they recite their prayers. A strong smell of incense wafts through the air. Several monks are busy within the hall, quietly attending to their duties. When they spot the "Dragon-Blooded" walking in, they bow deeply. "Behold! An Exalted lord graces our humble temple. How can we be of aid, oh Great One?"
Tepet Makara	Frigid Dread or in reality Makara, is heading to the Immaculate temple that had just been erected in Orenzan. Although his true source of exaltation is for Luna, he still prays to the dragons out of reverence for they are still the pillars of the world even if their children hunt them down like lions to impallas. Even if he was Lunar, the teachings did leave a marking on him especially as he was raised by his Earth Aspect uncle that's a wannabe monk....although he was a Melaist, resulting in him being distrusted. As he enters, his presence is as ice cold as his stern gaze as if the blizzard winds from the North itself arrived. Once he faces the abbot, he bows to him thanks to his status. "Sorry if I interrupted anything, abbot. I'm a mere lost egg bureaucrat currently on leave, but I use this opportunity to wander the lands of Creation and I always pray to any Immaculate temples I find." Then he shifts topics, this time concerning the ancestor cult. "I have heard that there are still those who heed to such blasphemous ghosts that refuse to return to the cycle of reincarnation in this city. Do you have any leads on where they are?"
Chorus	The head of the temple, a mortal monk of the Third Coil who doesn't seem to be much older than 40, goes by the humble name "Boulder". This turns out to be a bit of a misnomer, as he is wiry and rather small. He seems to take the asceticism demanded by his rank very seriously: When Makara enters the man's office, he finds a small, simple room with no ornaments, crammed with bookshelves and dominated by a low desk. Abbot Boulder, sitting cross-legged on the floor at his desk and apparently busy with paperwork, slowly sets his brush aside. His widened eyes appear transfixed by the Dragon's impeccable manners and imposing figure, and he bows as deeply as he can without slamming his shaved head on the desk. "You are not interrupting anything at all, o Exalted One. It is a great honor for our temple, to receive such an esteemed visitor", he proclaims, then frowns deeply when the "Dragon" mentions the ancester cultists. "Leads on the heretics? Oh, yes. In fact, several! But most of them turned out to be nothing but distractions, false evidence and rumors - no doubt planted by their surviving leader, and their co-conspirators among the citizens." He sighs heavily, then bows again. "But we will root them out eventually, that much I can assure you, Lord Frigid Dread."
Tepet Makara	"Frigid Dread" is pleased that the monk reveres him for he is a "Prince Of The Earth" after all and deserves some respect for his lineage from the dragons. "Interesting, I'd like to hear more about the possible verified rumors. I'm not sure when I'll travel out again but maybe I'll be on the look out in case I notice something off. I know you are close to stamping out this cult, but it won't hurt" He is amused and not surprised that the cult is still alive despite claims they are close to. If you want to oppress a religion, you must not do it violently For it will only increase their resolve and find a way to scurry in the darkness like cockroaches for they are very hardy insects. "And who is this surviving leader? I hear from rumors it was the Daughter Of Ashes was it or am I mistaken?" He seems intrigued by their leader, interested in how they managed to sustain the cult even under Immaculate persecution
Chorus	"Yes, that would be the one", confirms Abbot Boulder gravely, shoulders tensing. His face remains placid enough - he has good control over his expression, at least. "Rumors about the circumstances of her survival abound. I am not at all surprised that they found their way to your blessed ears as well, mylord." He thoroughly clears his throat before giving Frigid Dread a brief summary of the events after what must have been a brief and burtal conquest at Sesus Asidru's behest: "Shortly after the surrender of Orenzan, the Exalted Lady Asidru, who is blessed with the fiery passion of Hesiesh, offered the blessing of our Order to the local heretics. But their two leaders, the so-called Wise Twain, refused and could not be reasoned with." Ruefully, Boulder shakes his head. "They incited the populace to violent protest. Lady Asidru saw no other way - as the ancestor cultists could not be reasoned with, they had to be subdued. An example was made of the Wise Twain, and their inner circle driven into exile." The abbot's eyelids droop as he sorrowfully shakes his head, and for a moment, his gaze appears to trail off, far into the distance, even though the only window in his tiny office is no larger than his own head. "I personally oversaw the funeral proceedings. We burned their bodies, and send their souls on their way to their next, hopefully more enlightened incarnation. I can say with great confidence, mylord, that they were truly dead. And yet... only one of the two actually had the grace to stay that way." Now he looks up and meets Makara's eyes. "We are not quite certain if Daughter of Ashes simply faked her own death, perhaps with the help of a very devoted body double... or if sinister magics are at play here. So far, her ash and bones have not left her urn - and still, the people whisper among themselves: Daughter of Ashes lives! They see this as a sign of the ancestor's blessing, as a symbol of hope. I fear rebellion will rear it's ugly head, if we cannot find her soon." Abbot Boulder lifts his ink-stained bamboo brush and points at something behind Makara - a simple map of the valley, hung on the wall next to the door. "See, mylord, that city on the hill to the left of the map - that is Orenzan. Look to the right, and you will spot a second hill, covered in dense forest and ruins. That is Omari, the shadowland, Orenzan's sister city - or so it was, a long time ago. Daughter of Ashes has surely fled there, to gather her followers and coordinate the cult's resistance. So far, our efforts at finding her hideout have proven most unsuccessful."
Tepet Makara	Makara is amused that the abbot finally admitted they still are dealing with such a troublesome cult leader. But what raises his eyes more is that this leader was supposed to be truly dead....only to arise and show up. This intrigues him although wonders if they are truly undead or simply faked their demise. Even if he is a necromancer, Makara knows that the dead cannot truly come back as living. Only through the cycle of reincarnation can they find such resurrection. "Truly inauspicious and the implications are worrisome. They are like leg infected with a virulent uncurable disease that spreads through the body that must be cut off. May the dragons guide you to her and put a stop to such plans of secession. The seditious whispers can only end if she is silenced" Makara looks at the map as he takes a note about the possible location in where to locate the Daughter Of Ashes and her cult. "A shadowland aye? Hmm I'm unlikely to travel as my next route is different but if I do come across suspicious activity on the way, I shall report it to you and maybe I shall aid in dealing with such ancestor cultists myself. Other than that, anything I should know? Also I forgot but hopefully may Sesus Asidru's reign over Orenzan be peaceful and prosperous"
Chorus	"May the Dragons bless her with puissance and wisdom", says the abbot in response, bowing his head in reverence. However, he doesn't attempt to hide the troubled look on his face, and his brow furrows deeply. "The Exalted Lady has gone so far as to place a substantial reward on Daughter of Ashes' head. She also rewards anyone who aids in her continued efforts to improve safety for travelers along the roads and on the Lesser Rock River." His eyes once again flit over to the map behind Makara, albeit briefly. "A terrible demon is rumored to haunt these lands - a Lunar Anathema, stealing the faces of mighty heroes." Boulder wears a string of wooden prayer beads around his neck - now he reaches up to touch them, as if seeking reassurance in their solidity. "Perhaps you have heard those rumors as well, mylord? Even for a Prince of the Earth, such a monster can be a formidable foe. I urge you to be careful."
Tepet Makara	Deep down, Makara is a bit troubled by the rumors of the Lunar anathema. Who could have possibly spread that rumor? He made sure no dynast hears it. Is it that somehow someone heard about his other identity or a separate lunar. "A lunar anathema? How disturbing and I shall look out for any possible imposters. Even if I'm from a Northwestern satrapy, I have heard tales of anathema and some years ago, a golden anathema warlord who once almost conquered the North if not for the sacrifices of legions." "But for now, I shall leave but I'll make a quick prayer in the temple for the safety and Immaculate conversion of Orenzan." Although he is an anathema, he still respects the dragons in some way even if he reveres fickle Luna as well. He gracefully bows to the abbot before leaving. Who spread that rumor like wildfire? That's the sentence that rings in Makara's mind, wondering who might be responsible for it
Tepet Makara	Finally after his prayer is done to the five dragons and secretly Luna, "Frigid Dread" visits one of the city's packed and seedy taverns. He must keep himself in character in order for the Immaculates to not notice anything odd about the dragon. Finally once he enters, he has the noble majesty of a prince even if he is a mere "lost egg". Cold yet awe inspiring like the snowcrowned mountains of the North. As he talks to the bartender and whatever few socialites here. He does so with an sharp intellect when it comes to important topics such as geography especially the Hundred Kingdoms although he sometimes flirt with men he finds handsome as he winks at them as if it is ice sparkling under the light of shining celestial bodies such as the moon
Chorus	Makara finds a truly filthy establishment in the ruined parts of Orenzan, where denizens make do with rickety shacks and tents. The drinks served here taste like piss, but they are cheap and contain enough punch to help the patrons drown their sorrows. And what a sorrowful, distrustful lot they are. A Prince of the Earth, here? Unthinkable. At the arrival of "Frigid Dread", the constant low hum of chatter dies nearly instantly. People stare in disbelief, gape in awe, narrow their eyes in distrust. The bartender is no exception. And she certainly knows that the reasons for a Dragon-Blooded to show up in her establishment are finite. Despite everyone being aware of his search for information, Makara's good looks, charming intellect, and flirting skills quickly loosen tongues. It's neigh impossible to distrust such a man, and the alcohol loosens their tongues even further. As bottom feeders, they have much to gossip and complain about. All of them have heard about the miraculous survival (or resurrection?) of Daughter of Ashes, and how she continues to outwit and outmaneuver Asidru's "hounds", as they call her soldiers and the Immaculate monks harrassing citizens. Nobody can say for certain how she did it, or what kind of supernatural forces might have helped her, but they all agree on one thing: The most dangerous denizens of the shadowland are on her side now. And there are many of those. Not the ancestor ghosts - those were always benevolent, they assure Makara... although they are certainly angry now - but other, stranger things. They soon begin to entertain him with colorful horror stories. Thanks to his patience and a few strategically placed questions and smiles, the Lunar is able to coax the truth out between superstition and exaggeration. Apparently, the shadowland is infested by a horde of uncannily intelligent ape-like spirits, colloquially called "howlers", whose howls and cries can drive people mad, just by listening to them for too long. Plugging one's ears can buy some time, but only so much. A lone howler is not considered a threat, but hey are "never alone", according to the patrons. Another dangerous predator are the very trees themselves: Most are inert, but some - leafless and gnarled - are able to grab living prey with surprising speed and strength. Struggling against their grip only makes the situation worse. But the most gruesome creature, called only "The Whispering One", cannot be described... since nobody who encountered this thing lived to tell the tale. It prowls the shadowland's very heart, it walks through walls, sniffs out the living by the scent of their fear, and devours first their sanity, then their body and soul... or so the tale goes.
Tepet Makara	As Makara carefully converses with the bar's patrons, he seems even more intrigued when hearing about the Daughter Of Ashes especially the fact that the creatures of the shadowland now heed to her. Even if she's undead, he's certain he is no ordinary walking corpse or shade possessed body. She can either be a deadly enemy or....an ally when it comes to taking down Sesus Asidru as he has an elaborate plan he has yet to complete. Although he would have dismissed the stories about the shadowland monsters exaggerations, he already experienced such dark strangeness when he recovered the armor from his past life's tomb. The false dragon takes note of the trees, as it seems a winged form is preferable but he need to watch out if their branches can extend to the sky. The stories of monkey like spirits whose screams can bring madness concerns him more than even the trees. However the thing he really needs to watch out even if it's just an exaggerated tale about some hungry ghost is the whispering one. He should not underestimate what that thing is and prepare for it. However seeing as he needs to go, he puts his money in the bar counter to pay for the beer and winks at one of the men before leaving
Chorus	Quite a few of the patrons - male or otherwise - are visibly disappointed at seeing him leave, but they know better than to try and stop him. When he leaves, he feels quite a few pairs of eyes follow him. One of those, however, looks oddly familiar... a small, terribly thin middle-aged woman in an shaggy coat that looks like she lifted it off a much larger person. Where did he see her previously? He can't quite remember. The look in her eyes is anything but friendly, for a brief second at least... then she quickly looks away, and vanishes into the mass of sweaty drunken bodies. It's only half a day's walk to Omari, less when flying. Will Makara be able to find the cult, or encounter only ghosts and Underworld horrors? That remains to be seen...