The Orb And The Onslaught {COMPLETE}

!ogniB

    Florence didn't answer his question, instead she led the way down the street and made sure to keep out of sight of the rebels ransacking the houses nearby. It would take them some time to get through the sheer size of them all, but Florence was heading for one building in particular.

    She'd noticed it on the way in, it was the only one out of all eleven that had embellishments of the closed eye covering the cross; the symbol on the brooches they'd bought in Grimwell. It had to be the home of the leader of the church, if not it was an important building to the church-cult and was exactly where they needed to be. When they neared the building, the cats took the lead and found a way in up a set of stairs and through a side door.

    The rebels still hadn't got very far yet, but it was clear the minute they got inside that the inhabitants knew something was happening in the town. Panicked shouting could be heard from somewhere in the building, there was nobody in sight however, and Florence's assumption about the amount of people living in these houses was confirmed. They passed many empty rooms, elegant and expensively decorated but they looked to have never had inhabitants.

    Florence could have cried at the waste of money she saw around her, it could have all gone to feeding, clothing and treating the poor and sick. It fueled her anger and eagerness to play her part in this revolution, she quickly told Quentin of her plan but it was mostly reliant on quick thinking and improvisation.

    Florence peered at the cats, "It also means I need to hide you three, just for a little while."

They didn't seem to mind and jumped into her bag the minute she opened it.

She sighed and raised a brow to Quentin, "Ready?"

    He nodded and grabbed what he needed from his bag before he held out an arm to her, Florence took it and leaned heavily over her walking stick. They walked to the end of the first corridor and when they opened the door, they were met by four people clothed in identical brown robes, their hoods down and their faces clearly visible.

    Two men and two women, all of differing ages and appearances, and all looking angry and concerned. They appeared to be packing when Quentin and Florence entered the room, they must have been getting ready to escape the rebels coming their way. They quickly stopped however, when they noticed the two of them.

    "Excuse me, this is a private area. What do you think you are doing here?" A man with grey hair and dark eyes spoke to them.

"I'm sorry, did we take a wrong turn?" Florence asked Quentin in her feeblest old lady voice.

   Quentin's face crinkled into a sympathetic expression. "I'm sorry ma'am, I must have the wrong place. I was told we could see the leaders of our magnificent church in this building..."

He sounded like he was pleading with her and Florence was proud of his performance.

    "I want to see their holiness, it's my last request." Florence responded with tears in her eyes, holding the bronze brooch to her lips as though in prayer.

Quentin stared in bemusement, which he hid when the four strangers walked closer.

    "If it is your last request then we would be happy to accommodate such a devout follower. We have a predicament right now, it shouldn't take long to straighten out and then we will be honoured to host you."

Florence smirked internally, "That means you are their holiness', the priests of our magnanimous church?"

    She had echoed some of the words she'd heard on their travels, she knew it would make her more credible and from the looks on their faces, it worked.