"That's one of them there!" A man pushes his way towards Shiran, and the people around him spread out to form a circle - including Seth, who quickly disappears. Only three of the field workers remain who despite apparently not having any idea what this about, had already formed a dislike for the youth. The man who had pointed out Shiran is a fat man of the merchant caste. He wears rich clothing of a bright red color with a matching cap, is fringed and ringed, and has a curly beard and mustache.
"He's a thief! I saw them earlier, stalking around the edge of the crowd! Three of them there were, this big lout standing out for the bull he is! I found my gold missing, and I knew it must be them! I saw another one, a woman, rushing away to the west."
Murmurs pass through the throng, and people begin to crowd toward the circle, pushing Lev and Mel back towards that spot unless they actively resist. Shiran stands with his hands hanging limply by his sides, dumbfounded. He begins to stammer some kind of response, a defense, anything.
"Quiet, you!" One of the field workers snaps at him. They had heard all they needed to hear, and fan out, approaching Shiran with arms spread and legs planted in wrestler's fashion. Shiran moves his hand towards his back, perhaps to reach for a weapon, then apparently thinks better of it, and turns away from the field workers to sprint into the crowd. Before he takes a step, the nearest of the workers springs forward and catches him by the waist. The other two are on him in an instant, wrestling him to the ground.
Shiran shouts in frustration, "I didn't do anything! I didn't!"
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From their vantage point, Alon and Ashur see the ring form near the southeast fringe. Four, or perhaps five people stand alone in a circle of about 12 yards in diameter.
"There!" Ashur points to the circle, and after a few moment, city guards begin to push into the crowd from the west.
"The Temple Guardians should provide what help they can. Alon, you stay here in case..." his voice trails off without finishing his sentence, which is instead punctuated by a gasp of astonishment. "The Prophet..." Ashur trails off again.
Without his having noticed it, due to the commotion in the crowd, Alon suddenly becomes aware of a cool breeze that is quickly becoming a gale, pushing down the temple steps to the south, bringing with it the scent the incense, and something more. Mist. The sense of power emanating from the Prophet has increased by an order of magnitude - it is almost palpable now. The Prophet stands, his mantle whipping around his body in the wind. He is a slight figure, with a grey head - looking much older than his age. Between his two raised hands, the mist gathers in a pillar, a column of cloud slowly raising towards the heavens.
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OOC: I'm gonna stop here in case anyone wants to act. Lev and Mel have not yet noticed the pillar of cloud. For the moment, Alon is transfixed - unable to act - so Bre, you don't have to post for the moment. I'm sorry I keep leaving you without anything really to do - it won't be long

Also, if anyone wants to leave feedback or ask questions, go for it in the OOC thread.