As he peered through the trees, he finally came into sight of his destination.

Finally! He exclaimed, coming up to the waters edge. The moon reflected brightly in the middle of the calm lake, as if it had an unnatural serenity. The falls nearby provided a peaceful drum as Corinton stood there studying the beauty of the spectacle. He frowned as he remembered his most recent dream, in which some of his past came back to haunt him. He stared once again at the calmness of the lake and decided to focus on other things than dwell on the past. He took out his dagger and carefully studied the blade. There were two nicks in it and each of them had their own story.

He took a seat and pondered on the memories yet again. Gah, will they ever leave me? He asked the lake. As if in reply, a ripple appeared on the surface. A fish jumped and disturbed the peaceful water. You're right, not worth dwelling on. He said to himself, putting the dagger away. He took a seat and stared up at the stars, basking in the beauty of the lake and his surroundings.

Romanus was riding through the countryside, determined now that Imythess had gone mad. That ordeal back at The Broken Strings Tavern had left him scarred and bloodied, and so he had head out for Richimon Lake to clean up and heal. That being had been quite odd, but he determined that he would just avoid Cascadia when possible. He arrived at the lake, dismounted Guerriero, and tied him to a tree. He then walked over to the lake, and began to clean his wounds, not seeing the other person there at all.

He heard footsteps and the breaking of twigs. He turned to see the path and was surprised to find a tree blocking his sight. Sighing, he stood up and went to the tree. A horse was tied to it. Curiously, he looked around for the rider and found him a few meters away by the waters edge. A dark pool surrounded where the man touched the water.

He seemed unaware he was being watched, and felt the need to keep it that way. He turned around and walked back to where he previously was. Thinking to himself again, Corinton pulled out his dagger in case that man had heard him.

Looks like this night won't be so boring after all. He muttered to the waters edge, watching the moon reflected in the water.

Romanus looked into the water with his tired eyes, watching the blood mix in and disappear into the lake. He smiled slightly, remembering the other times he had been in the same situation. He frowned however as he began to count all the times he had escaped death. He led a dangerous life it seemed, too dangerous fro any normal man to survive, yet somehow he managed. He didn't understand that, but it was a fact, and he was determined to find the answer. He then remembered his surroundings, and looked up across the lake. He saw nothing but water and trees. Then he looked around, and saw someone to his left, holding a dagger. He smiled, wondering how long the other had actually been there.

He stood, and walked over to the other. He wasn't sure what he was exactly, but he definitely wasn't human. "Lovely night, huh?" He said this in a quiet, gruff voice, as though he should be talking louder, but couldn't due to some old wound or memory.

Corinton's ears twitched as he heard the man speak to him. He turned his silver eyes to the man, noting that his voice matched his look. The man had scars everywhere.

"That it is, that it is." He replied, sheathing his dagger. He looked back up to the moon. "The moon's not usually this bright, nor is the lake so peaceful." He commented and looked back at the stranger. Corinton stood up, his tunic travel-worn and ripped in many places, and his shoulder length hair shining from the moon.

Unsure of what to say, he just stood there, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger.

Romanus smiled slightly. "It is always so after a battle, no matter how great or small, it would seem. After war comes peace. Of course, it is only followed by more war, so we must enjoy the peace while it is ours." He looked out at the lake again, enjoying the peacefulness of this moment. He could remember few times of peace in his life, he spent too much of it on the go or in battle. He looked at his left arm, where a huge gash had been torn at the tavern. He put his hand on it, whispered a word, and his hand came away revealing only a scar, to add to the many others all over him. He then looked back at the stranger. "What brings you to the lake so late at night, if I may ask?"

After watching the man heal himself, he replied to his question. "A peace of mind and an interview with the stars, for only in the dead of night can mental peace really come. This calm is best for the soul, for if you have no peace, your sanity will become nonexistent." He answered. He looked up and the stars lit up his vision. "You look like you've been in a rough place of late, what brings you out this late?" He asked, not taking his eyes from the stars. He thought of his past, and the times he'd come out of a battle looking similar to this man. He smiled to himself as he remembered the healers who once accompanied him. He awaited the man's reply to see if this was such a case.

He laughed at the other's remark, so true it was. Perhaps Romanus was a bit insane, with his lack of peace. Maybe he should settle down. No, that was nonsense. "Oh, I came here to wash my wounds. I was a fool, and mistook a dangerous situation. Barely made it out for my stupidity, but I did at least. Live to fight another day." He smiled, remembering days long past when he had made such mistakes. However, magic was nonexistant in his old world. Mistakes here could be more deadly. "So tell me, sir, what is your name, and race for that matter. I'm slightly curious, and curiosity killed the cat, as they say." He always wondered who 'they' were, but that was not a topic to bring up.

Corinton's smile broadened as he listened to the man. He knew what had walked across his path. This man was like him after all.

"Around these areas I am called Corinton, Corinton Scorpionis of the kin of Aasimar." He explained, taking his gaze from the stars and turning it to the man. He looked at the mans eyes to see what he could tell from them, because the eyes are indeed a window to the soul. Sighing and relaxing, sensing no danger whatsoever, he took his hand from the hilt. "And what are you known as?" He asked in a nonthreatening tone.

He had never seen an Aasimar before, but had of course heard of them. He wondered what they were all like, but decided not to pry further into the workings of another race. "I am Romanus Maximus, of the race of Man. My kin, or nation, whatever you prefer to call it, are far from this land, and dead for all I know. Or care." He looked up at the moon, remembering his land, the fields and the cities, and mostly his dead wife. He grew saddened by the thought of her, it had been many years sincce she had come to mind. He pushed her out again though, determined to move on in life and live his own. She was gone, and he was here. That was what mattered. "So then, Corinton, where are you from, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

"Romanus, a strong solid name." He said after the unnatural silence. "Boldness is a high trait of man. I am from a land far in the south that is now forgotten by many in this world. It's name, if I were to speak it, would cause havok everywhere and another war would start between the heretics and religious ones." He told Romanus in more detail than he had hoped. He looked back at the surface of the lake, his memories stirring in the calm confines of the water. He saw before his eyes the once green field before the war long long ago, and the colorful flowers dancing on it. He blinked and shook his head. His sight once again showed the peaceful lake reflecting the moon.

"No matter, for now a homeland is unnecessary in times of turmoil. Lands change, people change, races and nations. All of them become one with the crowd, alone in a grain of sand in this desert we call life."

He smiled at the comments of Corinton. "I believe you are wrong, Corinton. A homeland is the most necessary of all in times of turmoil. Lands and people and races may change. But the nations only disappear when people let them, and people are fiercly loyal to their nation. What else would someone abandon their home and family for besides their nation? It provides them a sense of belonging, of fitting in with others like them. A nation is the most powerful of all beings in this world. It is when the nation falters that the people lose hope." He sighed, remembering his nation, long ago, conquered. Forced to fight for another nation, another army. He had gotten his revenge.

Corinton scoffed quietly at Romanus's remarks. "A nation lives just by a mere memory you say?" He said just loud enough for Romanus to hear. He remembered the nation he once 'belonged' to, and his life before it was changed for him. His homeplace became wherever his clan went, a clan that weren't even family, just those with a common purpose. He looked back up at the moon. "A nation is something to be revered, something that is put together by the people who believe in it, those who remember it's true purpose. What if there is but one member left, where only he and the moon remember the nation? Tell me, is that too a nation?" He asked, not taking his gaze off the moon. It kept him calm, for now his memories started stirring and thoughts of his nightmares began their haunting.

He smiled at the remarks. "I said nothing of a nation being a memory. A nation is an idea, an ideal of some sort. People bond together for ideas, even nomadic tribes are a nation, because they hold a common idea, else they wouldn't be together in the first place. As to whether one man can uphold the nation, yes he can, if he resolves to uphold the idea behind which the nation was built behind." He smiled, realizing that he had abandoned his nation long ago for a new ideal. He hadn't realized that until just now.

Corinton dropped his gaze from the moon. "So as long as there is one left to believe, that nation will still exist and remain?" He asked, thinking to himself the time he spent alone, wandering from place to place. He realized that he was the only one left of his kin, not his blood kin, but of another kind. "A resolve, and the faith in oneself to achieve peace as you say, are becoming less and less common these days. In old times, one would need a resolve to merely live, now there are races who throw away their lives with no resolve, nor a purpose in mind." He said, mostly thinking aloud.

He looked at Romanus again. "I see a resolve in your eyes. I care not what it entails, nor what is to be gained from it, but it is there nonetheless. You are indeed of a proud race." He paused and walked to the waters edge. "Without resolve," He unsheathed his dagger and dipped the tip in the water. He made a sudden slash with it, disturbing the water with waves. "The once proud and powerful nations become like a ripple. With enough followers with resolve, it would be like an impenetrable wall, but without resolve, the nation will begin spreading thinner and thinner, until it ceases to be or merges with others, as this ripple has done." He sheathed his dagger and turned to Romanus.

He nodded, smiling ever so slightly. "Those who throw their lives away without purpose do not deserve the glorious death others sometimes attribute to them. Life without purpose is not life at all, but a mere waste of flesh and blood. The mind placed into that body was undeserving of a body to begin with it." When Corinton spoke of a resolve in his eyes, he looked away, thinking. What did he believe in? He wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that there was something that he fought and sweated and bled for. He looked back at Corinton. "Nations of today have become weak. Have you not heard what became of the great city Taras only days ago? Burned to the ground, destroyed by the Goddess Veronna. And now, divine power has been lost in this land."

Corinton's eyes opened wide at this news. "As it seems, I have heard nothing from these lands in countless days." He said, his eyes betraying a sense of sorrow. He now understood why it was so peaceful and the moon seemed so sad. "So you say this town of Taras has fallen? And the Goddess Veronna is the power who destroyed it?" Corinton looked at Romanus, his eyes already back to the cool silver they were, betraying no thought whatsoever. He remembered the name Veronna being given to a maiden in his past, though she was young and of his race, he learned of what she truly was. And that the body of the maiden was only a sacrifice.

He took in what he had learned, and made a comment to Romanus's previous statement. "A mind of no resolve, respect, nor chivalry of a sort is like a poison being fed into an open wound. However, though undeserving they may be, they were once as we are. And this divine power that you speak of, if there are those left alive who still believe in Maiden Veronna's, and in divine power, it is not truly lost. A common trait among each race is hope, and hope can do wondrous things given the opportunity." He sighed. He felt sorrow for the people of Taras. It brought back memories of what happened to him, and how he couldn't stop it like those of Taras couldn't stop the wrath of the Goddess.

He nodded slightly. "Taras is no more, it's people dead or scattered. As for Veronna, she led the forces that destroyed it, but for the most part it is her fault. I am unsure of why though, I only returned to this land a few days ago." He thought of Taras, and of some interesting things that had happened there years ago. He smiled to remember it. Then frowned to realize the city was gone. Never again would he walk its streets.

"The question now is whether or not the races of Imythess can band together to protect their lands from her fury, or if they will be forced to migrate to new lands. That is what truly matters. The poison of this land may ruin it for the rest. Hope is wondrous, true, but hope may not be enough to save this land."

Corinton stood there and listened to Romanus's account. "It is true that hope alone cannot bring things to how they were, and the races of this nation need to find a common purpose. But as fear has found a place in their hearts, they will not come, for Veronna has paralyzed their pride and crushed their resolve. I have seen this happen many times in the years of my travels."

He looked at his silver hands, remembering the days of his youth when times were simpler. "A time of new beginnings is upon us." He said, looking back at Romanus.

(OOC: Crap, I used the wrong account. Oh well, pretend this is Romanus)

He nodded. "But then, for all I know, she was perfectly justified in her action, for I don't know what has been going on much around this land of late. I just heard in passing that Taras had been destroyed, and that she had a part in it. But who knows, except for her. And I doubt anyone will get the chance to ask her without dying for that very question."

He smiled sadly at the thought of a new time. "It would seem an age of chaos has come upon the land of Imythess, one which may not go away anytime soon. The Gods and Goddesses kept the Order in place, but without them, who knows what may happen....."

Corinton smiled at that. "That's the thing though, if it's left in the hands of mere mortals, things are bound to go wrong." He said in a different tone than he had been using all night. He caught himself and looked up at the stars.

He turned his attention back to Romanus. "So Romanus, where are you headed now that you've escaped the peril you had just encountered?" He asked, still noting the wounds.

Romanus nodded slighty. Mortals did tend to ruin things. "The mortals have their moments of greatness however, and all it takes is one to change the way the world works. One man can change the fate of the entire race." He almost laughed at the thought of one person being responsible for the well-being of everyone. But the, wasn't that the Gods' jobs? But they were gone now. So now it was up to the mortal races to shape the world.

He looked at the scar on his arm, then back at Conrinton. "More stupidity on my part than any peril. But as for where I'm headed, I honestly have no idea. I was thinking of possibly checkin' out what's left of Taras. Other than that, who knows really. How about yourself?"