Hazamir ended his prayer by planting a kiss on his thumb, then pressing it to the symbol freshly etched on the wall, then got back to his feet. Tossing his long, raven hair back over his shoulder, he turned his eyes onto the druid.<br/><br/>"With me if you will, Druid. I think I know what the deadtalker is planning, and you look like the kind of beast I'd want to bring to a fight."<br/><br/>Hazamir did not hide his disdain for humans. In his eyes, only the Orcs surpassed them in brutality and ignorance. Dwarves have the decency to keep to themselves, and Halflings could have potential were they not still bound to the will of their human masters. Humans, however, just take and take with no regard for the repercussions of their actions. Their history is rife with crimes and atrocities, yet they have the gall to act offended when another race chooses to protect their own interests. That is why Hazamir hasn't even yet bothered to look in the direction of the Paladin. That level of righteousness infuriates him. He'd have killed her already if he wasn't soul-bound to work with her.<br/><br/>Druids were a different matter. Hazamir considered them to be truly enlightened, elevated past their limitations. It took true understanding with the natural order to channel power from it, and with it came knowledge that humans seemed to so conveniently ignore. That's why he held no ill will toward this human in particular. In fact, the man's lack of memories would likely make him even easier to deal with.<br/><br/>He pushed through the wooden door in the back of the temple where the village priest once made his home. It was a predictably simple room; small, with four stone walls. There was a single bed with a night table beside it, a well-read book of scripture sitting on it with a burnt out candle. Across from the bed was the bookcase that Streban had mention, littered with various religious texts and icons of faith. Sunshadow flapped its wings restlessly as the elf took slow steps across the dark room. He'd been inside this building too long, and was losing his patience.<br/><br/>"Just a little longer now, friend, and you will have the skies of Whitewillow as your own."<br/><br/>He ran a finger along the underside of the Hawk's neck gently, but it just took a sideways step on his shoulder, away from his touch. "Impertinent." Hazamir scoffed, then turned his attention to examine the bookcase in front of him.<br/><br/>"Now where would a man of faith hide the means of their salvation?"