Agathe had always been taught that the stories her grandmother told were simple metaphor. Silly stories of tradition and senility. But when the temple of Uulom had been found it was a strange feeling that should couldn't shake from her guts. For generations the cave entrance had been shut tight and forgotten. Only when the venerated spider Queens sent their mindless larvae to the surface was it uncovered, discovered, unlocked, then looted and desecrated. Her anger was wrathful, she would show the Temple of Uulom the respect it deserved it seemed her birthright. This Josiah Havel seemed to think it a vault to be pillaged. She knew of a camp west of Britain, one that held discontent with the crown. Maybe if confronted with a large enough crowd the Royal Archaeologist would relinquish the temple keys to her, allowing her to protect and respect it. Agathe's speech began to draw a crowd. The crowd hung on her every word, however soon her words reached too deep into the world and soon others showed up with blood on their mind. Surely these people, these 'heroes' would not strike out at an unarmed crowd peacefully assembled? Alas all it took was a single misguided paladin to tip the uneasy balance toward violence. First the gypsies rose up against the violent aggressors, driving them back out of the makeshift fort. It seemed to be going their way, maybe this was the best of outcomes, with an army at her back surely the Queen would be forced to give over a temple of a god she neither knew, nor cared about. But then the crowd outside swelled and her angry gypsy brothers and sisters were driven back and defeated. It was then that Agathe scared herself, but only for a moment, with a thought her anger manifested itself into form and continued the fight. The words coming from her mouth were not her own, she sounded like her own grandmother, speaking of an ancient spider god named Uulom. Hideous her Manifestations of Anger pushed the crowd back, but again the opposing side swelled and ratcheted forward against her. Agathe closed her eyes again, allowing the powers in her mind to grow and lurch forward. She was no longer angry, her anger had faded into a mindless seething hate. This hate again took form and brought itself to bare against the murderers of her kin. The Manifestations of Hate battled well, but too in time were defeated. Agathe could feel the power inside her growing, something deep within her mind pushed her forward. This was not the gypsy way, this was something else. Agathe knew she much escape this army that had come against her and her people. Again she closed her eyes and thought only of revenge, for a third time her feelings took form and flooded the walls of the makeshift fort. It was then Agathe made her escape, with the 'heroes' occupied Agathe took to the forest, she ran and ran, and kept running. Another day and things would be different.