About an hour later, the Acidic Rainfall had finally abided making it safe for Team X-Ray, Leon, and Merizi to safely walk outside. The grey clouds above are loomed threateningly for the travelers however. It was David’s best hope that they could cozy up at the Visitor’s Center that Tomos mentioned before the next downpour forces them to tuck their tails again. In the event Gozreh decided to weep once again, Tutoria and Isaiah continued to wear their ponchos given to them by their merchant friend for the time being to be safe rather than be sorry.

“Seeing all of this… this city with my own eyes… I feel so… so cold…” Tutoria lamented of how this once beautiful center of commerce, faith and artistry became nothing more but a den for thievish dogs who feasted on Golden Katheer’s corpse.

Even the Temple of Dawn’s Grace, it's large but cracked dome that towered above the city permeated with a defilement that shook the faith within Tutoria’s resolve. It was as if the Gods perished alongside Nethys untimely departure. She could even feel it within her bones just how far away her Goddess is from the young Paladin. All she could really think about to keep her mind from doubt was to pray, for a plea to Sarenrae that her pilgrimage comes through to revive her and her brother’s broken canon now that they witness the broken world before them with their own eyes. It was much more staggering to witness it first-hand rather than hear it all from stories of passersby.

In stark contrast was David who looked at the scenery stoically, it was nothing that the old Ranger and even Isaiah had not seen before. City Ruins just like back from Colorado.

They approached the city from the North, being greeted by the solaric walls of Katheer, or at least what remained of them as they passed before the bastion’s ruined gate. The city’s interior had seen much better days with broken furniture that was half-built into barricades, battle-ridden houses and the occasional skeleton littering the sandy stoned streets. Signs of its riotous aftermath post-Cataclysm as the Twins described. The streets, at least the ones of lower elevations were half-flooded with murky green water that reeked of blood and dirt.

“If memory serves me right, the Visitor Center should be just over ----” Tomos hung out his finger around the labyrinthian streets of Katheer until he felt a swift gush of air suddenly pass by him.

“Gah!” Isaiah yelled as an arrow pierced the left side of his chest. “Mama-Mama! It fuckin’ ‘urts!” he gritted his teeth.

“Ambush!” David yelled as he leaped onto his feet his rifle at hand. He helped pull Isaiah from the driver’s seat into the cover of their wagon whilst carefully not aggregating the gaping arrow on his shoulder that sank nearly straight through his body with biting lethality.

“Quit yer yapping!” Tutoria hushed Isaiah to calm down as she observed his grievous wound.

“Heal’em up!” David ordered.

“I am trying! But my powers… they aren’t working!” the Paladin attempted to lay her hands on the injured Ranger but every attempt to conjure that same healing power she had with Merizi earlier simply fizzled out into unhelpful flickers around her palms.

“They are shooting at us from above!” Tomos leaped out of the Driver’s Seat and dashed for the cover of a nearby wall while dodging a peppering arrow fire aimed at him.

“We’re surrounded!” Leon radioed from the Walkie-Talkie as his Trailer that followed behind him began to receive a barrage of arrow fire. “My ride can’t take these hits!” The broad-headed arrows struck from above, however rained with such great weight, that they struck more like rocks that bludgeon his trailer rather than ordinary arrows. Every strike threatened to ram asunder Leon’s Trailer upside down.

“Stay there!” David ordered Merizi who hid below their cart. “Don’t do anything!”

“But I can help!” Merizi protested.

“I said stay there!” David repeated as he returned fire with his Rifle. “I need eyes! I need eyes!” he yelled as he tried to gain a bearing on where their attackers are.

“For the Sun and Fury! Smite the Outsiders!” yelled a voice above. “Burn these filthy heathens in the name of Sarenrae!”

A molten orb collided with the carriage from their right flank. The magical missile struck the left rear-end wheel of their carriage causing their wagon to kneecap. Their two horses neighed fearfully as the terrifying assault continued around them. Tutoria barely held on to Isaiah’s body as the wagon partly collapsed, tilting leftwards violently tossing Merizi and their meager caches of supplies to spill upon floor.

“Sarenites?” Tutoria gasped. That was the battle cry of her fellow brothers and sisters of Faith. She reached into her pocket and held out her Holy Symbol of Sarenrae.

Her crucifix at hand, she emerged from the half-damaged carriage with her hands held high.

“By the Sun’s Grace! You attack one of your sisters in blessed dawn’s new light!” Tutoria pleaded out in the open. She pulled out the Poncho she still wore and revealed her ecclesiastic robes and Sarenite couture to their unseen assailants.

The attacks upon them ceased for a tense moment as Tutoria and the rest of Team X-Ray held their breath.

“Sister… are you not with the Bandits?” a valorous voice bellowed beyond where she faced.

“What devilry you speak off? I would never!” the Paladin blenched her tongue.

“But you wear the cloak of…” the voice pass mentions nervously only to be interrupted by another much more reserved voice.

“Let her through, I recognize those robes. She is from Sunhill.” The reassuring voice alerted the other nearby attackers to lay down their arms. “We have so much to discuss with you Sister.”

“Very well Sister. We shall watch you closely. Especially that big behemoth you have brought with you!”

“The other Carriage behind me?” Tutoria pointed out to Leon’s Trailer. “He’s just a merchant.”

“Again, there we have so much to discuss with you fellow Sister.” The second, more reserved voice informed her. “I want you and your travel companions out of their carriages. My Mujahidin’s will escort you.”

“Yes and also please heal my idiot friend you just shot! We are very weary after our journey to come here. He is squeals like an idiot, but this idiot is unfortunately under my care.” Tutoria requested, scoffing at Isaiah’s swinish groans. “That and also we could use someone to help fix our carriage.”

“I ‘erd that!” Isaiah whined from the back.

From their hiding places above them, the Sarenite Warriors revealed themselves, dressed in black and white robes in contrast to Tutoria’s sky blue robes of their shared faith. A contingent of these ‘Mujahidin’ Warriors escorted in person the David, the Twins, Merizi and Leon from their caravan whilst another group of them confiscated their belongings for safe keeping. Stern stares from these fierce warriors in their lamellar brass armor bore down on them. However, it wasn’t unlike beforehand the last time David and Isaiah got waylaid by these Sun-Worshipping militants. At least Isaiah was taken into a stretcher as a Cleric attended to his wounds.

Wading through the half-flooded streets of Katheer eventually they reached dry land as David and his companions were greeted to a golden-and-white building in ornate Persian style likeness. He remembered the old history books he had browsed through of such Empires of Old in all of their colorful history and cultures upon ruins of many Libraries and gathering places of learning. It lay abundant with symbolic geometry such as circles and squares that formed its palatial exterior. The scent of dried fruit and salted meats titillated his nose whilst a faint strum coming from a stringed instrument soothed his ears.

“We are here.” The Mujahidin Warrior informed them.

“Outlander, this is the Visitor’s Center already.” Tomos whispered to David.

“Well, that’s… convenient already…” the Ranger amusingly acceded. He honestly was expecting another Dungeon Stay in another Sarenite Brig. Unless this branch of their heliocentric faith prefers open-aired imprisonments.

“The High Priestess Kamala shall know what to do with you.” One of their other Mujahidin escorts answered.

“Wait wha---” Tomos tongue became spaced out in confusion. The Neophyte Twins had thought they would meet the revered figure at her Temple. “I thought she normally doesn’t go out much? Especially at the Visitor’s Center where foreigners would be roaming about.” It was unusual for such a lady of her status to be outside of the holy ground to concern herself with the rifraf rabbles at the Visitor Center.

“My fellow brother and sisters bathed in her light!” the reserved voice from earlier rang forth.

The Mujahidin Warriors humbly bowed as a bronze woman resplendently descended upon the

“High Priestess Kamala? What are you doing here?” Tomos questioned.

“Please, please! It is relieving to see such friendly faces after so long. I am preparing some tea and dried dates for you. Tell me everything about your journey.” Kamala beckoned them to enter through the azure gate of the Visitor Center. “And your Outlander Friends, I have seen the likes of you before… and the only reason why I am not having your head cut off right now is because of this Sister’s word alone.” The High Priestess dubiously audited David and Isaiah.

“You can trust them your illustriousness, with me and my brother’s life.” Tutoria reassures the High Priestess, bowing submissively until her back was as flat as a table.

“I shall be the arbiter of that.” Kamala gestured to the newest arrivals to the Visitor Center.

Passing by its double-gated entrance made of wood and scavenged iron that deeply contrasted the Visitor Center’s luxuriant exterior. Unlocking each of their heaving bulwarks, they entered the building. Greeting them all was an overcrowded palace mish-mashed together with other sorts of niceties. On one hand, a makeshift ground dedicated to the bunk-housing for the destitute was built next to a small size bazaar that exchanged wares for necessities from merchants clad in weathered raiments. By their despondent smiles, their lives now were a far cry from their previous. They now sell mundane essentials such as food and clothes rather than rich carpets and exotic wares of greater years. These tradesmen and artisans vigilantly guarded their much-desired goods against those who dwelled within the bunk-housings who occasionally attempt to pick pocket what valuables they self for themselves. Dressed in shadowed rags these refugees huddled together for the warmth of what meager hope was left within them.

A ‘tavern’ whose bar the top of weakened thirst-quenchers of what folks manage to barely scrounge up into the minuscule water they were sold or in better terms: rationed off with. The Watering Hole was in a sorry state with overworked staff more busy servicing the rations of food and drink than making the trying to halt the decay of their hygiene. Ironically, at roughly the same shared area, bordered by a stern line of clerics was a hospice where the sick and injured such as Isaiah was taken in. The clerics try in vain to separate their territory from the Watering Hole’s customers who grew more restless with every diminishing scrap of sustenance left.

These depleted masses shared a suspicious eye towards David and Isaiah, resentment filling the air to all above the ceiling like a Nuka-Cola bottle readying to burst. The sight of their families, selves and what camaradic volitions these desperate folks have left kept these belligerent folks from tipping over the scales, if not barely. But what common ground they do hold was what is situated at the center of the pavilion. A circular altar that seemed to be held sacred by all of these factions. It was empty save for a lavender pillow that neatly lay below upon a glittering carpet filled with smallish gifts of copper, precious shining objects, and even a few scraps of rations.

“You do look awfully like brother and… oh don’t tell me, you are those Aasimar twins Anchorite Ebrahim spoke so highly about! You all grew up so fast! I can just embrace both of you all at once! Please tell me about what goes on back at the Monastery the both of you!” Kamala smiled as she escorted Tutoria and Tomos deeper and deeper into the Visitor’s Center.

“We have… so much to tell you of our story coming here…” Tomos awkwardly choked on his throat. He shared an stiff glance with his sister, clueless on how they break the grisly news of their untimely departure from Sunhill Monastery.

David shook his head at the twins. These kids are still not yet quite ready for the treacherous road ahead. Yet also he couldn’t bear both for sentimental and pragmatic reasons can’t bear to see perhaps his only two guides in this otherworld be separated from him. Not while he is here in Katheer with so many questions where to even begin searching for that damn Spherewalker.

“Only those of the Mujahidin are allowed any further, Outlander.” The Sarenite Militant forbade David from moving further beyond his post when the Ranger attempted to follow the Twins with the High Priestess. “You may entertain yourself within the pavilion with your… Outlander companions in the meantime.”

With no way further but just to stay put for now, David turned around. At least he could just listen in on some of the nice music and mingle with Isaiah, Leon and Merizi at the meantime. But the latter two options are immediately dismissed off. The Mexican Merchant they escorted wondered off to the Bazaar trying their wares whilst also tempting to persuade his leery Mujahidin escort to have him retrieve his merchandise back at his trailer. He wasn’t much of a knack for Barter himself unfortunately for the Elder Ranger. David was more content to scavenge what food his stomach had the constitution to digest from whatever ruins he encounters on his excursions. Merizi in the other hand dozed off at a nearby corner of the Pavilion drinking… or rather smothering the gills on the sides of her neck with what liquid beverages she could ask for before taking a restful nap from her entire ordeal on a avariciously claimed cushion she grabbed off from tavern patron. The Golarionite Native seemed to be getting way much better attention of the meager hospitality afforded than David has been making do of… or lack thereof.

“We better find this Spherewalker soon…” David mumbled to himself. “Can I get a glass of water here?” he asked one of the waiting servings staff in the tavern the Visitor Center housed.

But the servers ignored the Ranger’s request, focusing instead to serving the other patrons around him as he is left to hung to dry in his corner of the pavilion. He took his mind back to his junior, the young lad who had recently taken an arrow through his shoulder. Isaiah was made to lay with his stretcher on a sickbed which was given a charitable front row seating, or at least a lying down of near the Pavilion’s central stage.

“Hey Kid how are you---” the Elder Ranger scooted over to him.

“Pipe’t down!” Isaiah raised his hand. “She is about to be playing.” The Junior Ranger eyes locked on in an excited trance to the stage.

A richly dressed performer made their entrance through the crowds gathered in the pavilion, immediately silencing all of the folks from their day-to-day hustle and bustle. Their eyes lay captivated by the performer’s presence as a gong sounded off seven times off scene to officiate the performers arrival.

“Whose playing?” David lowered his voice carefully, sitting down onto the ground having seen no signifiable seating arrangement amidst the carpeted yet soft slumbered grounds of the Visitor Center.

“Navideh? The purple scarfed Bard that plays some of the most soothing of melodies. She is perhaps what is keeping all of us folks together despite all that has happened. Helps me out get these stitches to close on my patients too just listening to even a few notes off her songs. Plays that big lute that everyone calls a ‘Mandolin’.” the Sarenite Mujahidin Cleric assigned to Isaiah answered.

Purple Scarfed Bard with a Mandolin?

‘Could it be?’ David speculated.

“You would love her songs Outlander… if you had any damn respect with your shoes laying on this fine Osirioni Carpet.” The Healer complained, pointing down on David’s mud ridden shoes that desecrated the floor around the Pavilion ever since he had first stepped foot at the Visitor’s Center. “I am practice a CLEAN healing center here even if it was with you Outlanders!” he coldly scoffed.

The stage illuminated with Navideh’s arrival as she sat down crossed legged below her purple pillow and placed her Mandolin, adorned with starlight glitters that dreamed of the night sky. She tuned her instrument with several probing strikes from her flawless fingers before readying herself for her grand performance. With a flamboyantly bohemian raising of her hand the Bard signalled the start of her performance with the audiences bated breath.

You are an ocean of waves

Weaving a dream

Like thoughts become a river stream

Yet may the tide ever change

Flowing like time

To the path, ours to climb ~

Thou seek the light

With an outstretched hand

A divine blade lies before you

So command the wake of dreams

To restore the world, cut 'way the seams ~

The songstress plucked the eight-twinned strings of her mandolin that sat firmly on her lap. A sirenic melody hummed between her tongue. She sang so gracefully that her mouth almost didn’t move for each stanza of her invigorating performance. Like a maestro she captivated the crowd with her starry lilac eyes that irradiated a divine blessing only comparable with his foray into Elysium before arriving in Golarion. It was her. They had found her.

Join in my prayer, in my song

Of birthrights and love

Come the sun, illuminate the sky

Pray that we may quell the dark

Light take the throne

Lost in thoughts, all alone ~

Join in the tale, in the blight

Of conquest and lies

Come the sun, to tarnish in the sky

Vow that we shall tear the light

Dark seize the throne

Lost in thoughts, all alone ~

The tempo aggrandized with the strikes of her fingers picking up the pace. The audience hearts became excited tenfold. Now enraptured in her melodious spell, Navideh stood up the glow in her hair unfurling from beneath her glittering veil and began to twirl and whirl her flowing robes across the stage. She brought an inspirational focus to all eyes directed towards her. Her reserved demeanor phased away into a hypnotic act that even her unearthly blue hair slipped away from her head-wrapped lilac veil.

Each word she spoke soothed the darkest of hearts, each comforting lyric healed the most grievous of wounds. Each encouraging aria, inspiring greater deeds. David could feel all those painful memories of his time out and about in the Wastelands nearly melt away like sand washing ashore on untainted beach. Isaiah’s wounds miraculously healed thanks in both parts with the Hippocratic healer who despite his animosities restored his arm thanks to the melodies of Navideh that inspired competence to the calloused-handed Cleric.

Such allegro was enough to even dance the hearts of lesser creatures too. Such as David’s allergy-inducing butterfly companion from Desna who upon hearing such divine tunes fluttered towards Navideh like a moth towards a moonlit flame.

“Hey comeback damnit… I need you…” David reached out to the butterfly but the Desnan creature playfully weaved pass its grasp as the midnight winged insect glided towards the Bard.

It only took one elated glimpse of seeing the holy creature of her goddess that Navideh held out her left arm and allowed the little creature to gently land on her finger. A soft giggle escaped her lips as if she had crossed paths once again with an old friend. The butterfly glided off her finger and happily began to dance with its shimmering wings, urging her to continue her song. With a smile worth a Sultan’s Fortune, she continued her fawnlike pirouette.

Join in the tale, in the blight

Of conquest and lies

Come the sun, to tarnish in the sky

Vow that we shall tear the light

Dark seize the throne

Lost in thoughts, all alone ~

May thy chosen path lead way and grace you with virtue

But surely a balance awaits

So be it bliss or pain you gain

Beyond the route-way's end

You'll gain resilience and weakness

The trials, the thorn in your side

Becomes the greatest strength in you… ~

David’s lost himself to the music… or perhaps it was Desna guiding his steps as he slowly approached Navideh.

After the storm stills its wake

May we all be blessed

So the fate and fallen can find rest

Our will, the water reflects

So all will know

Our hands brought the morrow ~

Her song’s end came at sensational encore as the last notes from her Mandolin lingered from her performance. Navideh’s voice was nothing short of Angelic, it was almost as if a sliver of Desna’s grace came down to ease the suffering of the Qadirans upon this blighted Golarion. Speaking not through Navideh’s sirenic tongue but by the melody of her music.

“Just who do you think you are Outlander?” the husky and long-bearded proprietor of the Watering Hole intersected David just as he was about to approach Navideh. His breath simmered with burnt tea left to boil for too long as he resolutely shielded the beleaguered Bard from the Ranger.

“You are a Desnan Spherewalker aren’t you?” David asked the azure-haired Bard.

“Yeah, yer right!” Isaiah, now fully healed from his Arrow Puncture arose from his bed and exclaimed. “W-ee been lookin’ fo-r’er!”

“Even here! The Outlanders seek to take everything awa---” the Proprietor despaired but before he could lose heart any further… Navideh held onto his hand.

With one firm beam of her eyes and not any word more, she comforted the Qadiran man. The butterfly

“Your song… it was like if… Desna spoke through you.” David was caught in a rock and a hard place as he mustered what words to save, he and Isaiah’s face amongst the astonished crowd.

“An Outlander… Blessed by Desnan? How could this be?” one witness bore her cheeks in utter shock.

“Is this a sign? We have not been abandoned by the Gods?” another wondered.

Murmurs erupt around the pavilion as suspicion amongst the two Outlander visitors turned to blended soup frothed with skepticism garnished with a lingering promise that seeped within the hearts of these Qadirans. Even such Heliocentric folks, share a deep respect for the cold starry night.

Navideh slowly approached the Rangers. In an unerring silence, she beckoned the two Using by extending her robed arms, using her index fingers to stand forward. She then bent her arms with her elbows before rolling her arms. It was as if she wanted David and Isaiah to her follow by her side with those gestures.

“You want us to come with you?” David asked her. With what he could little remember of how society works; some folks would use their hands to ‘speak’ whether ill-fated to be deaf or mute. Quite ironic for someone whose career revolves around music either way.

Navideh nodded. Confirming David’s guess.

She then pointed towards the door where David was previously barred from entering with the Aasimar Twins earlier.

“You heard her sing… That is impossible… unless… but… you are…” the Tavernkeeper was at a loss for words but the Azure-Haired songstress held him by his arm and with doe-like eyes peered through the proprietor’s walnut irises. Vouching silently for the two Desert Rangers goodwill.

“I… but… If the Song of Spheres wills it…” the protective proprietor bowed.

“Please. Come on through.” The Mujahidin Paladin apologetically stepped aside and allowed the Rangers and Navideh safe passage to the previously restricted back rooms of the Visitor Center.

“Navideh, I got a whole lot of ques--- ACHOO!” David told the silenced songstress before the blue-winged Butterfly from Elysium tickled his nose once again.

The bard chuckled agreeably with a blush from her tanned cheeks. She didn’t need a word to say that she will answer what questions the Rangers have in store for the Spherewalker.