The priest regarded the two girls with a cautious, appraising eye.  They could almost see the tumblers rolling in his head, deciding whether to grant the two lodging or not.  Finally, he nodded.  "Follow me, younglings," he said.<br/><br/>He beckoned them into the stone edifice.  It was old, the girls realized.  Why, inside the architecture was actually pre-Counterstroke.  Built before the Hold crumbled.  The girls could tell because the masons of old had known how to cut stone and join it with barely a paper-thin gap, sealed by some long-forgotten method that may well have been geomancy.  The front of the building had been added on a century and a half ago, and was already showing cracks and other signs of age.<br/><br/>But not back here, in the corridor lit by unflickering sconces too bright and too bright-yellow to be normal torches.  The magic of Solus.  An acolyte passed the priest and the pair of newcomers, giving the hand-signal to the priest, who returned it almost by reflex.  Footsteps echoed down the stone corridor.<br/><br/>The smell of cooking mingled with sweat and other, vaguely less pleasant odors met the pair as the priest led them to a door.  The door was on the left side.  Ahead was another door, closed.  The door on the left was open, and in the large room were some bunk-beds.  Two of them were occupied by people already asleep.  On a third was a woman who was nursing an infant.  The more active twin noticed its skin was a greenish hue, and its nose too long...<br/><br/>"This is our guest room," the priest told the twins.  "A Lightbringer will be along shortly with a meal.  Through that curtain, you may draw a bath."