Arandur grew restless himself as he waited around for the announcement to be made. It was for a different reason than many in the crowd,  but it helped him blend him; something he has grown quite accustomed to.  It was just as he was about to leave--for the accursed thoughts, like a tar pit, had started to bubble up once more-- that the High Priest finally made himself known.<br/><br/>What he had to say did nothing less than absolutely stun Arandur. Oh, by the Gods. Was this man serious? He must be mad to be advocating genocide...<em>The only one that should die is him.</em>Came one of those thoughts, pounding against his psyche.<em>Self defense! Self defense. He'll get you killed, unless you kill him first...take the head from the serpent, and it will all fall apart...</em>It urged him, tried to appeal to his most basic of instincts: his own continued survival.<br/><br/>He could even visualize himself shooting an arrow through the High Priest's head...and that's how he knew he'd had far, far too much excitement today. He needed to get away from here, get somewhere quiet and calm, where he'd better be able to withstand the psychic assault of the accursed Stone he carried.<br/><br/>Once the announcement was over, and others were beginning to disperse, Arandur found himself doing the exact same thing.  He'd have to find an inn to stay at tonight.  Trying to leave the gates now would likely alarm the gate guards, and beyond all that, he was both hungry and thirsty...though he did remind himself to take it easy on the ale. The cloud of drunkenness could make it much harder for him to stave off the Stone's desire.