Tyr rebalanced himself, returning to his original stature, and turned to the man who he bumped into. The man was dressed in a fashion seen rarely on the western coast. As a matter of fact, he had seen traders before with similar clothing, but that was merely a trivial anecdote. There was no need to strike up a conversation with the stranger, and Tyr retreated to the façade of the bookstore, resting his fingers on his chin, now with bits of stubble sprouting forth. The main issue at hand was what Sera had explained. Had God really desired to kill all of them without a second thought? Did this mean that their prayers did not reach him and he really ignored them all this time?
He grimaced at that very thought.
__________
"Ah well, mistress, there are several reasons I have been provided with. First off, they are being killed because of their eyes, but it runs much deeper than just iris pigments," Djehuti began, his single eye scanning the documents before him with precision.

"It is an ethnic issue at the heart. The 'yellow eyes' in the north are surprisingly different than those here. The ones that live around our country dress like any other and most likely, any rituals they perform are done in secret. In Jenogh, it is said that the 'yellow eyes' are 'uncivilized.' They dress much differently than those in the cities, wearing himations. Now, mistress, you know that a himation is a cloak worn over a tunic, yes? They do not wear tunics, just the himation, so it's a simple white cloak over the naked body. Female 'yellow eyes' often travel with their breasts exposed. They also worship their on divine figure, but unlike the 'yellow eyes' here, they perform 'strange rituals' around fire pits, praying their divine figure through a collective chant. These acts are shunned by the cultural leaders of Jenogh. They originally issued a decree that stated the 'yellow eyes' must assimilate, but the growing dissent from them caused Jenogh to begin a cultural and ethnic cleansing."

The vagrant who had been knocked to the side by the figure's large stature slowly climbed to his feet brushing off his his tunic his eyes slowly rose to the sign above him. With soft steps he moved towards the door, his ears instantly pricked up at the gentle noise of conversation inside. Stopping he took a moment to listen has he stepped to the side of the door.

Qalim mulled over the revelations of the messenger. War and strife it seemed, was the source of all of God's disgust. But such things can never be completely eradicated, only deferred to one's advantage. It would seem that they were doomed, but then a thought struck him. He was a believer, one whose faith had never wavered, would God be able to forgive his transgressions? Or forgive anyone who sought repentance? Perhaps the messenger would know.

"Messenger of our Father, will He spare anyone? Will He accept anyone back in to his fold? Or will He wash away this world regardless of the faithful that inhabit it?"

That was all he wanted to know. Whether God decided to spare a select few, or not Qalim would have felt more at ease knowing that at least Bahaa, the most innocent of his acquaintances would at least be spared. He looked down on the boy, whose sobs had died down somewhat.

By the store front, Mahmoud could feel the presence of a wanderer wandering in to his store. It carried with him the scent of a seasoned traveller, no doubt well armed and attentive to any noise. Mahmoud already knew about what Qalim and his guests were talking about, anything the book store could not escape his notice, but it seemed the arrival did not. A curious, uninvited guest who was also probably armed. Rather than let him listen in on anything, Mahmoud greeted him.

"Greetings traveller," he spoke in his old rusty voice, "what books have caught your attention?"

The traveler stood silent for a moment before his emerald eyes shifted to meet his questioner's.

"Sadly, I'm not taken by any of your literature." His hand slowly rose to his face as he rested his chin in his palm, placing his other hand around his elbow to support it.

"I'm more interested in this 'Messenger of our Father'" His voice was stern but it carried with it a tranquil undertone.

"You don't really need to know" Tyr explained, entering the shop after the vagrant.
"It's mindless babble and you should really only take it with a grain of salt."
At this moment he let his arm drift below his belt, where his backup blade rested. Though it was short, he had enough range to efficiently threaten the vagrant depending on the following situation. However, he really should not have made the motion, as it really would have provoked a violent response, and most likely there would have been nothing to provoke him otherwise.

Sera was about to answer Qalim, but turned her head to the conversation outside. Tyr was assuming a confrontational stance, and she immediately shut the door leading to the main storefront and feverishly searched for a lock on it. She did not want to be caught in the middle of any confrontation. If she died, God would annihilate the surface immediately and she did not want to risk anything.

Mahmoud could feel the tension increase by an amount in the store. Silly children's games he thought to himself, reaching under the counter. He spoke as he did so,

"Just so happens, dear customer, that we do have a copy of 'Messenger of our Father', though it is a bit of a rare item," he spoke as he pulled the book from under the counter.

It was an embellished retelling of the history of their kind, but for those not in the know, passed off as a religious text of little significance. Indeed it was named 'Messenger of our Father' but other than its thickness, there was no other defining characteristic about it. Mahmoud bid the patron closer, slowly trying to urge the rowdy guest back towards Qalim. No doubt it seemed more than just mere coincidence but that he could divert attention of the patron and avoid trouble was more worth it. Not that he was covering for Qalim, Mahmoud just wanted to do business.

The ruckus outside the room had gotten Sera worked up as she tried to barricade the entrance. Her life was undoubtedly important to her mission concluded Qalim. Silently ushering Bahaa to bed, he walked to the door as she vainly tried to find a lock. The store only had one lock on the front door. If anyone had breached that, then Qalim would have already breached their skulls with a blade, as the lock was designed to be loud when handled in any manner. He moved his coarse hands over Seras', lightly brushing them aside as he re-opened the door all the while reassuring her,

"Do not fear for your safety, this is the house of a hired blade."

He looked for any potential trouble before once again, resting his palm on Tyr's shoulder and shaking his head, trying to confirm the eye colour of the new arrival.

With a careful pause his eyes shifted down towards Tyr's arm which rested beside a hilt. "I wouldn't." He spoke in a more stern tone as he turned towards the slamming of a door. But before he could project his next thoughts, he was interrupted by who he presumed to be the owner of the store.

"Really now? A rare item?" He questioned as a slight smile crossed his face.

"Might I ask who exactly was talking about this book before I entered the store? I could have sworn I heard the voice of a young women.." He inquired in a smug voice.
"And why is this guy here so touchy about it?" He continued pointing back to Tyr.

Elednor Maynakeh watches from afar at the store. He only hears two words that interest him "rare item". He tries to keep himself from bursting in at that moment yet fails. Two unknown people now stare at his sudden entrance. "oops, wrong store" he says quickly and tries to leave...

OOC: Wait, did you just auto reply for me?

sorry didnt mean to do that

Aranida rubbed her temples, just what she needed, even more disruption to a city that was already turned on its head following the disappearance of magic. "Genocides....always over the most trivial of things" she murmured to herself coldly. "Very well, Djehuti, now what is our role in all of this? To bring an end to this genocide deadly and swiftly, or perhaps should we deal with the root of the problem found in the cultural leaders." she paused "Though I am curious, where do these yellow eyes come from? I feel like they've just always been...there."

Tyr fell back into a relaxed position against the wall. He talker no further about the message that the stranger inquired of, hoping to not escalate his interest in it. The reaction from the news could either be blown off as s*** by the people, or could cause an adverse reaction that could lead to much more destruction at a faster rate.

Sera entered the main room.
"Yes, that was my voice? What is the matter?" she began to ask as she probed his face from a distance, deciding whether to trust him or not.
__________

Dhejuti sighed as she asked.
"The capital wants us out there to quell it in any way, so that peace may continue to flourish on the continent. He chose your troops and a couple others, mainly those from Marin and Scuttleburg. We are to head out immediately and complete this mission."
He closed the report and stared at the sky above.
"As for the yellow eyes, they've been around for... ages. All of them are just an isolated trait, as far as out body sciences can explain it. They are no different than us with exception of their culture."

Elednor followed the strange man whose name was Tyr to a random building he walked into. "Great, now how am I supposed to go see what he is doing" he muttered to himself. As he sighed, he walked to the front of the building. He found a vent and crawled inside to find Tyr leaning against a wall. He breaks the door blocking his path and falls smoothly into the unfamiliar room. Now he stares into those relaxed eyes of the one named Tyr.

There was hole in the roof no doubt, Qalim thought as an interloper managed to land in the store quite gracefully in to the midst of their gathering. He moved first, roughly shoving Tyr aside, blade in hand as he swung at the man before finally thinking of the thief and trespasser foolish enough to step inside. His other hand was hidden from the trespasser and it was there that his second blade slid out from his sleeve. His intent was not that of killing. Qalim just wanted to at least punish the fool at the very least for coming in uninvited and through the ceiling no less.

Closing his eyes softly he smiled as he took a step towards the young girl.

"I was told you were coming, but... I never believed I wo-" Before his sentence could end a stranger busted into the room behind him via the ceiling causing a short burst of confusion.