"Since they've left Besten they walked south west then disappeared until they were seen passing through Flinnd on horseback. Now they had entered Pomperaque, apparently to stay!" continued Orren while he tried to find fault with the two strangers from Besten. "Fine, Orren. I agree that we should not trust these men but I can't understand why we have to be this fearful of them. How can two men pose us a threat?" In his typical way Manguino had once again failed to see a potential danger. As in any nation, the greatest threat, almost always, seems to be from strangers. Since they were not known ... so Orren also believed. These two strangers were not known. Except for their names; Boyce Loebh and Lloyd, and also the fact that each man carries with him a substantial wealth, without the slightest fear of being robbed, no one really knows who they were. Then there was the crow that was the younger man's pet. It was a strange pet that, to Orren, seemed to be as great a threat to Phoride, as the two men were. Yet, for all their feelings, neither man could quite understand why they felt uneasy with these two men's presence. They gave no indication of being treasonous and they had even taken up a peaceful residency within the city. They heard the story of their wanting to set up an academy of arts and philosophy, to be run as a part of the Phoridene Blaisaman; but the fact that the Blue Mansion was bought, had both monastic men worried. Orren had been studying Jessuum Benitar's prophesy, made for Manguino, but it was odd and open to innumerable interpretations. Manguino himself had been wrong many times about the prophesy, seeing the doom of Halls, and the rest of Pomperaque, through natural elemental causes: fire, water, earth and air. Yet, with the several natural disasters that befell Pomperaque since the executions of Brook and Dearborne; the earthquakes tidal waves, the three-day hail storm and the great fire of four years ago -- that almost burned half of Phoride -- before the rebuilding, the great city had always seemed to survive. Cardinal Orren refused to believe in whatever the Benitar prophesy had to say. Like his father, years ago, he only believed and trusted in what he could see, feel, hear and smell, and touch. Anything that was beyond those senses were just illusions. Orren had seen the Angels of Mons several nights ago, and he knew that they meant an impending doom, but he believed that the doom would not be that great since the Mons did not ride through the main streets of Pomperaque. Since time immemorial; from the first time that vision had foretold doom, in the years before the nonexistent holocaust which ravaged the world, the mons had been an accurate omen that warned those who saw them, of incalculable disaster.