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"No, it's just a trait that we inherited throughout the generations." said Raedou, "It's how we tell the desert dwellers from the island dwellers... I'm actually not sure if it has anything to do with climate, but that's an interesting question... I'll be sure to look into that."

He looked around the dull, drippy caverns, and then back at Farfarello.

"Believe it or not, there is actually bitterness between the two tribes... I hold no part of it, but Telgove did... He was very... enthuiastic about his tribe... I suppose you could say that he was a nationalist."

Raedou blinked, surprised at Farfarello's comment. It was very... noble for a demon.

"It just... happened. Right after the first Prime Alchemist, Torbgeita Ganzi, died in an accident during an experiment..."

He looked down in remorse.

"After that, the two tribes just kind of... fell apart, I suppose."

Raedou chuckled and shook his head.

"I doubt that. In our religion, there is no Heaven or Hell." he said, "When we die, we become forces of nature, like trees, mountains or clouds... Our actions in life effect what we will become when we die."

They then reached another door. Raedou bashed it open and continued forward, hoping to continue their conversation.

((I have to go; today was fun! See you on Monday, Hayato. Right? RIGHT?! *Mall Cop*))

(guys're crazy posters...)

Hashmal looked back at the elf, "Because enchanting something to unleash a spell was Draon magic... although every one I knew exploded when used... we used them for carving out tunnels..." The guard fumbled with his keys before Hashmal kicked down the door in impatience, "It interests me that you studied that kind of thing. My people only studied that if they planned to be miners. We never dove into magic like the Ganzi. certainly we could use it, but we cared more for styles that didn't need concentration... I doubt you heard of the Sandscale war... The only conflict between Ganzi and Draon, long before my birth. It boiled to a standstill before the pact was formed. Horrifying war. Rantuinne was a forest when it started, and a desert when it ended." Hashmal said.

(Now I'll make up history)

((O_O Intrstng.))

"I don't." Came Helena's reply. Although her expression was stoic, smugness seemed to radiate off of her in waves. It could be easily discerned Helena's dislike of the Council Members. She was actually making her own, internal schemes, but at the moment they required no aid from or to the Council Members. It was interesting, the ways the war could resolve itself. The Storm was the only true problem; were it to be stopped, somehow, all tension would absolve itself as the Baeltians retreated to their home territory.

"My best solution would be to call aid from Eopia," Helena replied, but that would be a poor and iffy solution at best. She did not really think that was a feasible choice, not at the present, anyway.

"Baelta is so strong because of its numbers. The people will not fight; but if you had the true heir, with the royal artifacts, crowned, the people would rally and unite. And Favraes could deal with Favraen problems, without involving outsiders," Helena continued to think aloud, conscious that this suggestion was usurping Elmire's authority, foreseeing that it would not be accepted by the Duke, and choosing to ignore the Council Members' dismissal of the importance of the common folk. They outnumbered the armies of Favraes four to one.

"I suspect you'll do what you want, regardless of my opinion," Helena said slowly, before any could reply. "Regardless of the people you claim to rule. So go ahead, sell away our land. But I won't be here when the people raze the capital to the ground."

~

Ephlas took the concoction and drank it, but apparently, the effects did not kick in straight away. "Th-the Horde are impervious to the elements," the Magus said shakily, slowly, still supporting himself on the friendly beetle. "Heat, wind, sand, light--they are hardy beasts, and cannot be vanquished by those elements. Water and ice... sh-should drive them away. The cold. Make them cold. S-sodium carbonate and dilute s-sulfuric acid," Ephlas mumbled, looking at Clem. "Or whatever you carry around...?"

((So, about Dakon: What? I don't understand the reply.))

Ephlas was in no shape to use the chemicals.

~

Dakon boarded the sand-skiff, not waiting to see if Diine would follow or not. If he wanted to come as much as he truly seemed to, he would board before they left. Which should be momentarily.

"I must thank you two once again," Dakon said, although he couldn't remember if he had thanked them already or not. And he was ready to go.

((Bump))