<hr/><hr/><strong>Katyin Deadcaste</strong><br/>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a5/4ERgdXbsmall.jpg)<br/><br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Meeting Volpen's gaze, she blinks slowly, the fog seeming to lift slowly as she makes out faces in the meager light.  "Katyin Deadcaste... once of the Akir."  She raises her chin a bit, staring through half-lidded eyes and speaking the words easily, one of many rote exercises, simple as making a fist.  "Once House of the Order, once blessed of Fa'ael."  The words are dark and simple, like her peoples' black towers on the desert horizon... their remote cities, their strange customs, their vainglorious honor that carries death within.<br/><br/>When Akilu begins to scream, Katyin knows better than to get too close.  "Don't try to calm him down," she says steadily, watching the powerful man's fighting his chains like a demon.  "He'll either wear himself out or he'll break the iron from the stone... but he won't quit until one of them is broken."