Miscellaneous RP stuff

It was not a case of something not feeling right this time. No. This time nothing felt right! Abandor struggled to focus his mind on the hear and now, and not dwell on the problems with this mission. He succeeded only in managing a more clinical dissection instead of his previous, more whiny mental tone.

First was the matter of the Angel. Abandor'd worked with Celestial beings many times-- preferred it to mortals, truth to tell--but he knew from experience the nature of the missions each type was generally tasked with.

He mentally reviewed his knowledge,

Saraphim-The largest and most powerful of the Angels, the Saraphim are the priests and ministers of Heaven.
Laraphim-Laraphim the mages of Heaven. Extremely powerful and knowledgeable in matters of mysticism, though not terribly imaginative in practice. More repositories of magical knowledge than originators.
Garaphim-mid-sized Angels. They are the craftsmen of Heaven.
Alaraphim-scouts and special forces of Heaven. They make many excursions into Hell and the Mortal realm.
Caraphim-are the smallest Angels (they merely tower over Humans) and the lowest rank. They are by far the most numerous. They are foot soldiers of God and messengers.

Abandor had worked with Alaraphim, usually, and to merely bring him word from God, a Caraphim would have sufficed, and many times had. So. Why had it been, Miroliel, a powerful specimen of the Laraphim, who had approached him and told him that he was to be transported out into the wretched, fallen wild lands to 'scout for divinely inspired mortals in trouble'.?

Sure, he could understand that all the Angels were too busy to look for some lost mortals, but why would a member of the Laraphim be involved with the mission, or even more improbable, with him! He knew all the angels avoided him because of the subtle taint of his mixed heritage; to the divine, he smelled of infernal taint, though he did not actually qualify as being one of the tainted, and even possessed a modest spark of the divine due to his tireless service to God from his youth.

A Caraphim should have been sent, would have been unless magical instruction were needed, or at least the mission were crucial, and complex.

And if a Laraphim were to be sent, why not more detailed words than merely, "Go into the darkness, where I will take you, and search for lost mortals in peril. On your life, you must do your utmost to preserve any mortal life which you encounter!" Not much to go on. "All heat and no light", as the saying goes.

So here he was, in a deep, dark forest far, far away from the formal battle lines, moving as quietly as he can, and trying to listen keenly for 'mortals in danger' while trying not to think of all the corrupted, tainted monsters that lurk in such places. And why him, a human! In one of the few dark places in heaven, in deep woods or deep underground, where elves or dwarves should be tasked!

It was all wrong. Abandor kept the small enclosed lantern further hidden under his cloak, so that he could see, but hopefully not be seen.

Then he heard the roars of ferocious beasts--big cats if he heard right--and then, what he most prayed not to hear, the cries of shock and dismay from mortal throats! It sounded like he'd have to run to get there in time to do any good at all...