Daxniss nods at Dainoth's words quickly moving back to her cot " Undercommon hmm it doesn't sound familier, I taught myself orcish by just listing to others speak it. Draconic I know because the others in the village spoke it besides mother and father."
" As to say what the next few days will bring us, well learning as much as we can will be fun. " Daxniss finishes with a smile finally finished with her shuffling of her Harrow cards. Wrapping the cards back into the cloth protector, a dark purple color, Daxniss starts to listen to the two apprentices speak.
Upon the declaration of divine intervention, Argon thinks, Fat chance the gods had a hand in that. But then he considers all that has happened, to him and to all the others, and wonders if there might actually be some truth to it. Still, his instinct is not to believe in such miracles, even small ones. He'd had some very negative experiences with people who were supposed to be holy, in his past, and sees them all now through a misshapen looking glass.
"I don't believe divine intervention happens. Not for kids. Not for me."
Upon hearing Wrathe's plan to practice the illegal, dangerous, and possibly evil arcane arts, he shakes his head and asserts, "That's so dangerous, my friend. They'll flay you for that. A priestess once told me you will sell your soul doing that, but I don't believe that part of it. The flaying, though..." He shakes his head.
He continues his intensive study of anatomy via tome, noting weaknesses and strengths, wondering if he can make use of the information while fighting with a sword, or with his late father's weapon, a falcata.
Lilith took a moment to stare coldly, yet sternly, at the man. Although her eyes, and indeed her entire demeanor, was entirely still, it wasn't tough to see that her mind was racing. Just when the silence edged on awkward, her mouth began to move.
"Fine." as she bluntly put it "I choose to believe what you say. Take me there."
She looked down away from him, searching the ground for information that wasn't there. As soon as he began walking, she was be right behind him.
"And uhh..." she quietly let out a moment later.
It was clear that Lilith chose to remain skeptical of the man's words, but she was smart. She knew that whatever protection she was being placed under was likely better than what she'd face out on the streets. If it was a trap, death was likely better too. However she felt about the stupidity of the divine, she had to appreciate the generosity of this stranger.
"If what you're saying turns out to be true, thank you."
Nothing that he had seen suggested that magic was anything more than a tool.
Wrathe accepts the, surprisingly, gentle rebuke of his chosen with stoicism, "I would posit that the arcane arts are akin to a falcata, aligned neither along the path of good or ill. In the hands of one such as the Lich Lord Azthoh it is little more than a tool of subjugation. In your hands Argon that same falcata would shield the innocent from the despoilers. The test of the man is how they react with the power that it imparts."
"I don't magic itself is evil. While it is very powerful, it's more like a usable force of nature. However, since magic is so powerful, holding said power over others does tend to breed corruption. I think it comes down to the individual that is shaping the magic," Ssilax speaks up, his sibilant voice is quiet. "I think the way humans treat mages, not to mention other races, is going to end up being really bad." Ssilax pauses, trying to find the right words for the idea in his head.
"It's...., like when your cooking something in a pot and the lid won't come off. The steam doesn't have any place to go and just builds up and up. Eventually, the pot explodes, and then you have metal and ruined food everywhere," Ssilax looks away from the others, glad his scales didn't turn red when he gets embarrassed. "That was kind of a silly explanation," Ssilax's admits.
Clearing his throat, the dragonkin pulls his knees up to his chest, looking even smaller, his tail dangling over the edge of the cot.
"So, I will be continuing my mage training under Dainoth. I was going to walk completely away from Nethys's service," Ssilax says slowly. "After He let everything I held dear be destroyed and I was almost burnt to death. After yesterday, when Rygear healed me..., I felt the touch of the divine once more, and the presence of my mother." Resting his muzzle on his knees, his sapphire eyes are distant. "I will most likely continue my calling. It's supposedly what I was born to do," the dragonkin says with a sigh. He doesn't really sound like he believes the last part.
Walking over to speak with the other guards, Rygear walks back over to Lilith as they continue with their investigation. Nodding to the elf, they begin walking. Stopping by a vendor, Rygear purchases a few fresh looking apples. He hands two over to the elf and starts to takes a bite from his own.
"Sorry, I'm famished. It's been a long night," the warrior priest says with a grin after swallowing a mouthful of apple. "So that your not walking into anything blind, I'm taking you to met someone who is skilled at keeping people safe." The humans voice lowers to a near whisper. "The wards he employees are sure to keep you protected, especially if that thing can close in on your exact location."
The guardsmen seems to be hinting at the fact that this person he is talking about is a mage of some sort. Lilith had been warned long before leaving her home village that humans feared magic, unless it was of a divine nature.
"Also, we're heading to the Puddles district, it's daytime so we should be fine. The Drowned Ones only roam at night. Just don't enter any dimly lit half sunk houses," Rygear cautions. "It should take us about an hour to walk there."
Lilith watches as the human touches a plain silver amulet that hangs underneath his holy symbol.
"I found the possible link to the Clawed one, we'll be by in about an hour or so," the human says speaking quietly to no one. He seems to hear a response, to which he nods. Glancing at the elf he grins. "I figured I should let him know we are going to be arriving."
After perhaps a quarter hour of walking, the buildings were becoming more run down.
"You know, I never asked for your name. Do you mind telling it to me? I'd rather not be shouting "hey you", or "elven lass" if we do get into trouble," Rygear says with a chuckle. Lilith notices that he is more on guard then he was back in the Dock ward.
Wrathe nods along, honestly surprised by the open-mindedness toward his chose profession; if truth be told he expected derision, or another beating.
"Argon, Daxniss, Dorian, what are you hoping to train in?"
A heartbeat later he asks the most important question to determine if they had a future, as he sought out likeminded individuals.
"For each of you a question: for what purpose do you seek out this training? What guides you?"
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Dorian straightens his muscular back.
The Art of Discipline
Looking slightly unabashed, Dorian thumps down on an empty cot.
I mean that I was training to become a monk of Irori. I have been given a grand gesture. Master Dainoth has blessed me with hope and redemption. I shall be trained in older, mysterious disciplines. I am humbled and honored to receive such wise instruction.
Argon nods at Dorian's statement, and says, "Monks are good at fighting, right? I plan to learn to use swords to fight. But from what I've heard the monk fighting style is pretty effective, and you don't use sword or armor."
He hasn't been too chatty up until now, but perhaps he's growing tired of reading, or maybe he just feels sociable. He turns to Wrathe and says, "I just want to be a knight, or a great warrior. After I saw the guards fighting the thing that attacked me, I just felt, just knew, that I could be like that. Plus, my father had a falcata and was good at fighting with it. He was able to fix it too, or even make a new one. I want to learn how to do all that."
He wonders how long it will take his wound to heal; and then get to start his training.
Daxniss shakes her head, she knew that training and fighting to save your life were too very different things. She wanted to be able to defend herself however, she would rather not be seen or heard until the last moment. It seemed like her brush with the Stalker had managed to rub off some of it's desires or, more likely seeing her kinfolk killed in front of her.
With a shiver Daxniss pushes off old memories that seemed to never lie down and allow her to move past them. It was due to the fact that she never had a chance to fully heal from her wounds from over a year ago.
" I seem to favor staying out of sight, it makes things very difficult when 'finding' coin from those that are passed out in the alley drunk. So I guess I'm looking for a way to move better in the shadows, finding secrets, maybe finding out what is behind locked doors, and protecting myself. "
" I'd also like to make a place where those that were different would have somewhere to go, besides begging in the streets. If magic would make that possible, I'd look into knowing about it, magic might be a primal force of creation but I think it's more of a tool, it can be used for good or ill, it depends on the person behind the finger wiggling." Daxniss finished using her father's favorite line.
Lilith happily ate the apple she was handed. Ignoring any sort of social standards on how a girl should eat, she ate the entire thing faster than one would expect she would be able too - including most of the core.
"Ugh..." she groaned for a moment, thinking she had made herself sick. Lilith was a small girl, almost stunted compared to other elves. It was clear that she hadn't eaten anything real in a long time.
It didn't take long for her to recover as she just nodded along with what the man was saying. The entire walk would have been silent had the choice been hers, but after a short bit into the walk the man addressed her.
"My name is Lilith." she said in a matter-of-fact way. She appreciated what the man was doing for her, but her callous nature was unmistakable. Knowing her life and her mind, though, it's doubtful anyone would blame her for it.
Nodding his thanks when Lilith spoke her name, the guardsmen continues leading the young elf further out of the Dock ward. The sign that they had entered the Puddles Ward was clear. After walking down a slight incline, the smell of the place washes over the two. The rank scent of rot, mildew, and sewage cooking in the sun is almost a physical barrier to the place.
"It's a hellhole, I'm not even going to lie about that. However the Puddles is one of the better districts to hide in," Rygear says, his nose wrinkled at the rancid smell. "And no, you never get used to the smell. Keep an eye out for anything pay ingmore attention to us than it should be."
Lilith didn't really see any foot traffic around them. Of course, giving that half of the cobblestone path was submerged, a lack of pedestrians to unusual. That's when the young elf realizes that she had seen anybody else for at least a half mile or so.
"Don't fall in the water either. It's filled with waste from the ruptured sewer, and the gods only know how many bodies," Rygear warns as he is now visible keeping an eye on their surrounds. Like Lilith needed an excuse to stay away from the black, motionless water. About to say something, Rygear pauses, touching the plain silver necklace. He listens to nothing for a few moments before cursing. Lilith hears him mutter something about a "Stalker hunting" and even that she wasn't totally sure of.
"Let's pick up the pace a bit Lilith. The Stalker is nearby and out in daylight, which is not a good thing," the human says before picking up the pace to a jog. It isn't long before he and Lilith are up to a run. Just when she has had about of running after the human, the edge of nearby roof collapses under the weight of something that can't be seen. Something was following them, and the guard's reaction seemed a very good clue as to what it had in store if it caught them.
Dainoth's home
"Boys?" Dainoth calls out. "Make up another cot, there is going to be another guest here shortly"
Outside Dainoth's home, perhaps 20 minutes later
Rygear skids to a stop, almost wiping out on the slick stones in front of a two storyish stone home. The stone looks as worn out and crumbling as the rest of the Puddles stone work. The only thing that seemed different was a very solid looking darkwood door. Breathing heavily after running in full gear, Rygear knocks out a code of some sort on the door and whispers to it. Faint lines of red appear for half a heartbeat and the door slides open silently.
"Inside, quickly! Rygear's hand is on the hilt of his morning star, and his eyes are on the nearby rooftops. Moving inside behind Lilith, the door swings silently closed. A few heartbeats later, something slams into the door with enough force to shake dust from the rafters. "Downstairs!" the guard points to an open trapdoor, the only thing that really stands out in the room. The chairs, desk, small table and cupboard where of poor, forgettable quality.
Trapdoor closing behind Rygear, there is a faint green light coming from some fungus that grows along the seams of the ceiling. The sound of panting from running for their lives was the only thing heard for a few minutes as they listen, waiting for the door to be smashed in. Nothing happens.
The stone stairs leading down are a bit damp, as are the walls, but is safe enough to move down quickly. Lilith is certain that the walk down is at least three times the distance one would expect a basement. Reaching an iron bound door, Rygear places his palm on the door for a few moments before it unlocks itself and swings open as silent as the first door.
Suddenly, it was as bright as daylight once more. Immediately visible is an old human sitting at a long battered table, accompanied my mismatched chairs. The human could only be discibed as ancient, leathery, wrinkled flesh wrapped tightly around creaking bones. Raggedly cut white hair still clings to his scalp. Sharp brown eyes that have seen far too much stare at the elven girl and Rygear. Faded brown robes hanging loosely off his frame.
Cloaked in black, hood pulled up, a figure sits silently, it's back to the open door. It seems to completely ignore the fact the door was open.
"Thank you for leading the Stalker to my home. It's comforting to have an invisible demon that kills with a touch outside," the old man says rather acidly to Rygear. Raising a age twisted hand to stop any argument he continues. "The wards will stop it form gaining entry. Now, this is the girl you mentioned? The one you think is linked to the newest abomination to walk the streets?" The old man turns his head to look at Lilith. There is a faint blue glow to his brown eyes as he observes the elf.
"Hmmm, you might actually be smarter than I give you credit for. Something is indeed tethered to your new charge," the old man says.
Thanks uncle, that means the world to me," Rygear shoots back sarcastically. "This is Lilith. If you remember the dream I mentioned to you a little over a tenday ago, she is the one I saw. I've already checked on the vessel she sailed in on. It had been destroyed, only one true survivor."
Turning his gaze back to the elf, the ancient human looks at her once more. Taking a few puffs from his pipe, he seem to mull something over. A grey furred rat with piercing blue eyes sits on his shoulder, looking at the newcomers.
"Lilith, is it? I, Dainoth, bid you welcome, and as a guest I offer you protection until you no longer require it," the old human says with a formal, serious tone, speaking in perfect elven. "Now, take a seat, have some breakfast," he gestures to the platters of mixed fruits, cheeses, dried meats, and sliced bread and jug of water. "Tell us a bit of what brought you to Caern, after you catch your breath. And, what do you think links you to this Clawed monster? Or do you think it's the talk of madmen?," the old man asks of the young elf.
Rygear goes and sits down, pouring himself a glass of water and downing it. He takes a few moments to get his breathing back under control, not wanting to choke on his next glass of water.
Walking by the figure in black, Lilith notes that the masculine figure's face is cowled as well. Covering in black leather armor, not a trace of skin was visible.
Peeking his head out when Dainoth calls, Ssilax nods and turns to the cabinet in the corner of the sleeping area. Maneuvering through the cots, he opens it up and gets out another sturdy folding cot. Holding the compact cot above his head, he turns and looks at the layout of the room. His sapphire eyes flicker around organizing the room in his mind.
"Umm, would every mind giving me a quick hand? It will only take a few seconds. I just need everyone to shift their cots a little bit," the brilliantly scaled dragonkin points with his tail to show them where to move their cots. "Thanks!" Ssilax smiles happily, revealing lots of very sharp looking teeth.
Surprisingly strong for how small framed the dragonkin boy looks, he moves down the path to set up the cot. He looks over at the cots, noting it was much easier to walk around. Admittedly, it was a little bit tighter, but still serviceable.
At the sound of the newcomers and Dainoth speaking Elven, Ssilax looks at Wrathe and runs over to peek around the corner of the screen.
Glancing about, Wrathe wonders how many bodies will encompass the space before the end of the day. Perhaps some will be relegated to the floor in short order.
Climbing to his feet he falls into the familiar routine of preparing a nest for another.
Elven drifted to his ears, a melodious language reminiscent of the Wyld, and bringing forth an easy smile. Quirking that smile towards the dragonkin he races Ssilax to the screen to mischievously glean more.
|
|
Dorian looks to Argon.
Aye, I shall be trained to defend myself, along with those with me. More importantly, I shall learn how to not fight.Discipline is the monks weapon.
At the sound of voices from the dining room, Dorian easily picks up on the introduction of another lost soul.
A strange collection of the souls to be sure!
After helping Ssilax move the small beds about, Argon sits on the edge of his 'own'; the one he slept in last night. "I wonder if I should pee on it, so that nobody steals it from me..." He laughs at his own joke, hoping the others would see the humor in it.
To Dorian he says, "I saw a fine example of how not to fight when the city guards tried to take on the stalker creature. It killed all eight" of them. The second group was much better. They had discipline, yes, and speed and strength. And magic too, though I'm not sure if it was divine or arcane."
He stands and looks thoughtful for a moment, then goes out to see the new person, and to ask Rygear a question. Seeing that Rygear is resting, Argon approaches him and says, "Hi. I have a question for you.." He glances at Dainoth and the other newcomers.
Daxniss quickly moves to help out the other's with moving the cots around, letting the other's move over to the new guest and listen in. Shaking her head at at Argon's joke, wondering briefly who else showed up at and with the news that the Stalker had managed to track down this safe home.
Lilith was startled by the slam of the door behind her, but she quickly regained her composure before glancing around the room to take in as much of her new environment as she could. When asked about her name, she merely looked over at the old man and nodded.
Then she was offered the food. It had been so long since she'd had a chance at food like that. As quickly as the old man had finished his sentence her mouth was full. Taking a moment to swallow and get her mouth clear after his question had been addressed to her she responded;
"I'm here to learn." she took a small drink of water to clear her throat "... and I currently have little reason to believe that my having a link to any creature is anything more than the talk of a madman."
Lilith began putting more food onto her plate from various sources, almost too excited about it to be bothered with focusing on much else.
"Thanks for the hospitality though!"
"Coming to Caern to learn. It must important indeed to risk the dangers of travel. You don't behave like an elf raised within Caern, so I'm guessing you've traveled from on of the hidden elven enclaves," the old man takes a few drags from his pipe, exhaling through his nostrils. "And what knowledge brought you out to the human lands?" Dainoth doesn't seem to be one for beating around a subject. Looking at the elven girl he takes a drink of coffee. "Also, what details that might have seemed off about the travel by ship seemed off?"
Lilith can note that within the 100 foot chamber, rooms had been sectioned off with wooden framed cloth screens. A few of the screens have beautiful tapestry work. Others are just simple colors and shapes, and there are some that are just a solid color.
From one of the nearby by sectioned off rooms, the elf can spot a few heads poking around the corner, staring her way. One of the larger boys walks over to speak in quiet tones with the warrior priest.
"Yes, young Argon, what can I do for you?" Rygear asks of the young almost human.
"Why would he pee on his cot?" Ssilax mutters to himself, his muzzle wrinkling as Argon goes to speak with Rygear. Having not been summoned by Dainoth, the dragonkin was content with peeking around the corner.
The black and white scaled mask peeks out from around the corner, sapphire eyes wide with curiosity.
Argon asks Rygear directly, "Those spell that were used on that creature... Were they wizard spells or priest spells?"
He scratches the scratches on his back.
Wrathe looks confused, "Perhaps he hopes that his urine will weigh his bed down?" He considers that and a few other hypotheses, "I will have to assure him that my cot is fine as it is before his bladder fills anew."
Argon had acted contrary to a directive from Dainoth, which was an important moment to see how the old man dealt with those that flouted his authority, even if it was a minor indiscretion.
Realizing that Lilith and Dainoth could see past their clever attempt at obfuscation he ducks back behind the barrier and instead cranes his ear to overhear what was transpiring yonder.
He immediately demonstrates that he is unaware of Daxniss' gender by muttering, "A girl? I didn't think they'd let girls in with the boys."
"I used a little of both, the advantage to being a follower of the God of Magic," Rygear says with a distant look, recalling the fight. "It was more resistant to the magic than I was expecting, I ended up having to Dismiss the creature, the only thing that seems to work. Which only gets rid of it for a single day. When you Dismiss or Banish a planer creature, they tend to be banishment for a hundred years or more." The warrior priest pauses for several moments, looking at Argon.
"Make no mistake, it was fortunate that my group happened to making rounds. I believe the creature was toying with us at first, until I acually harmed it with Divine fire, and further enhanced my comrades arms with magic," Rygear pauses for a moment to take a drink of water. "It's also possible it remembers that I was the one that hurt it yesterday night, and it's looking to get even. Right now though, I'm much more concerned by the Stalker."
Dainoth seems to be ignoring Argon, his concertration is almost singly focused on the newcomer. Of course, seeing as how Argon is a guest, while Wrathe is one of the mages apprentice, the results might be different.
"That doesn't make much sense, urine doesn't really weigh that much," the dragonkin scratches the base of a horn in confusion. Fleshy peoples where a bit odd, he was beginning to realize.
"That's a girl? I've never seen an elf before, let alone a female one, Ssilax whispers back to Wrathe. "I though nonscaled females had flesh milk sacks.., err.., teats? What are those called?" Ssilax makes a cupping gesture at breast level.
"Wait a second, Daxniss, you're a girl aren't you? I thought I heard you talking with Argon about that. What are the milk sacks called?" the dragonkin boy turns to look over at the young thief to be. He doesn't seem to out to cause hurt feelings, just seems to be curious.
Sounding a tad too self-congratulatory the inexperienced Xthian reveals the depths of his ignorance by musing, "It's a girl. You can tell the difference as girls are always mad about something....and they always have a confused look on their faces."
He was unaware that he had turned his back on an estrogen creature in their midst that was looking to learn the fine art of slaughter from the shadows.
Wrathe snorts with the thought of milking human woman as one would a bovine, " Some udders are larger than others."
Standing stock still, he slowly turns around to offer Daxniss a sheepish smile. "Ahem, as I meant to add..." Wrathe glances out looking for something to save him, "I feel that girls are wonderful, and a great addition to any team."
Daxniss starts to pad forward, glad that her disguise managed to throw the two maglings for a moment that they thought Daxniss was a boy.
Although Dorian was worrying Daxniss as she moved; keeping an eye on him out of habit upon reaching the other's at the screen she whispers " Oh and is there something wrong with being a girl... boys? "
Enjoying the fact that Wrathe had started to dig himself in a verbal hole and giving him a chance to bury himself deeper.
Lilith, as she continued to stuff her face with food at first only responded to the man's question with a shake of her head. She spoke only after clearing her cheeks enough to clearly speak.
"I'm a curious girl, sir. A century and a still can't figure out..." her words drifted off for a moment before finally and suddenly she snapped back to reality.
"The ship? Not much. Our luck with the weather was terrible." She took a drink of water as she thought about the question a bit longer "Oh, and we were stowing a coffin. I thought it was a bit weird, but I've heard of stranger cargo."
At the appearance of another young person as herself, she continued to eat, but did give him a grin and a nod. It wasn't a welcoming grin, perhaps more likely to send shivers down one's spine.
Being hunkered down behind the cloth screen affords a perfect vantage point to view the sleeping area and its occupants, which is why he is so startled when a shadow explodes from his periphery and takes a handful of years from his shortened life.
Coiled legs spring up, throwing the mageling up and backwards through the cloth barrier. The whole thing tips with him and collapses, entangling him.
It is a ruckus that no one could miss, especially the fearful "EEEEARGHl!" that unconsciously is uttered in mid-air.
A slight crimson of embarrassment paints itself upon his cheeks. His hand upon his chest attempting to soothe the rapid staccato of his heart. Breaths coming ragged after he learns how to breathe once more.
His voice addresses no one in particular a handful of heartbeats later, "Then again I could be wrong." Under his breath he mutters, "Though I should have mentioned that girls are also sneaky as f*&*."
Wrathe works to extricate himself, sheepishly considering the damage he had wrought to the screen, and pick his way back over to the others, initially giving Daxniss a wide berth. The distraction to his master's meeting had not gone unnoticed, and he doubted it would go unpunished.
He looks defeated and sorrowful as he approaches Daxniss with apology in his eyes. At the last moment he throws the future rogue a wink and then plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek and runs away screaming in merriment.
Wrathe never was much for rules.
Argon thanks Rygear for his answer. He appreciates that Rygear is very open and honest with him, and treats him more like an adult than as a child. He recalls an adult mentioning that to him once - that if you talk to children that age (9) as if they were an adults, they tend to appreciate it. It makes sense to Argon.
Soon the screen behind him explodes, with a screech, and he looks back to see Wrathe on the floor mixed up with the screen. He laughs a hearty laugh - the first time he has done that in a long time. "Girls may be scary, especially teenaged ones. But not that scary, Wrathe!"
Wrathe is met by a sea of staring eyes as he untangles himself from the cloth screen. The panel itself had torn had been torn, oddly, several inches away from where his head had been. The man garbed in black calmly gets up and walks past the children into the sleeping area and retrieves his thrown dagger from the wooden frame of another screen.
Dainoth stares coldly at the man as he walks back and sits down. His gaze turns to the children, and while is softer then the look he had pieced the man in black with, it is stern. Rygear is sitting back down, shaking his head and trying not to laugh at the sudden disturbance.
"Guests and, especially apprentices, generally don't wreck their host's home. I'm beginning to see a number of new tasks in both your and Ssilax's very near future. For starter's pick up the screen and replace it," the old man's voice is calm, as he sits back down. The crash of the screen had shot the old wizard to his fee. "Then, I do believe the kitchen is overdue for a scrubbing, that should keep the two of you occupied for a bit." The old man take a puff off of his pipe and shakes his head slightly, a slight grin visible. "Couldn't just be content with simply eavesdropping."
"All of you introduce yourselves to our newest guest, since you were so eager to met her. Then boys, get to work," Dainoth says, turning his attention to the Man in Black.
"And what in the Hells are you thinking throwing knives around?! the old mage demands after the children had completed introductions.
"I thought we where under attack. Besides, I didn't hit any of them," replies the gravel voiced man with a faint shrug of cloaked shoulders. "We should be dealing with the Stalker since we know where it is." The man pointedly changes the subject.
"Do you think me senile? Of course we have to deal with the Stalker. It's not like it's going to lose interest, since it all but herded half of you here..," Dainoth pauses mid rant, looking as though something just occurred to him. His gaze turns to Lilith as he puffs his pipe. "What did this coffin look like? I'm going to hazard a guess that it was onyx, with a golden trim. He looks at the young elven girl.
Getting up with a grunt followed by creaks from his knees, Dainoth slides a cloth panel open to another room filled with all manner of arcane objects. The cloth panel slides closed behind the panel. Several minutes later the ancient mage returns and sits down. He carries something covered by a silken black cloth.
"This is an Elven Soul Mirror. For those with Elven blood, it reflects the image of the onlookers soul. For anyone else, it is a normal mirror," the old man pulls the cloth off and sets in down, looking into the mirror. He turns it around so that Lilith can see her reflection.
There is a sharp intake of breath from Rygear as he catches glimpse of the reflection. Argon screams at the sight of the reflection.
Looking out of the mirror from underneath a faint ghostly outline Lilith, is the black leather strap covered "face" of the Clawed monster.
"Ever hear tale of Possessor Demons?"
Letting out a high pitched hiss of surprise, Ssilax froze in place. He would have sworn that the sneaky girl was no where near the two when he had turned his head to asks his question. The next thing the young dragonking knew the wooden framed screen where on the ground, resulting in a tremendous crash. Clawed hands clutched into fist held up near his muzzle as if to keep a surprised scream in, the dragonkin remains still.
Wincing at Dainoth's gentle rebuff, he is amazed that the punishment is only more cleaning. He was expecting something more. Not that it mattered, Ssilax felt bad enough that he had help to cause the disturbance. Had he not been peeking around the screen the others wouldn't have either. He hangs his head in shame. He repayed Dainoth;s kindness poorly.
At the mention of introduction, Ssilax lifts his head to look at the elf briefly. The rich platinum scales warmly reflect the magical light within the room. His clawed hands and feet are covered with scales like shining gold, as though they had been dipped up to the mid-forearm and up to his shins. Four ivory tusk grown from near the top of his head, angle back at about a 45 degree angle. His tail moves sinuously for a dragonkin as he walked forward. The face and muzzle of the dragonkin boy where curiously colored. The scales on the left side of his face look as are blackened as if by a great fire. The scale upon the right side of his snouted face are of the purest white. Brilliant sapphire eyes glance at Lilith, and the boy nods to the elf.
"I'm Ssilax. Sorry to have caused so much noise," he aays with little bow to Dainoth. Turning he heads back to start righting the cloth screen.
At Argon's scream he runs over to see what's wrong. Catching sight of the mirror's reflection, he skids to a stop and starts back pedaling away, scurring to get away from the table in general. He peeks out from behind the kitchen screen.
Argon glances casually in the mirror, expecting to see the elven girl looking back at him.
Instead, he sees it. This thing of his nightmares, now he recalls from last night; this horror that had killed him, almost, less than a day ago; that had carved up the hapless town guards like they were fish being gutted, and laughed the whole time.
Argon, laughing a few seconds earlier at Wrathe's surprised yelp as he was startled by a girl, screams so loud that eardrums must be covered lest they rupture. A smell reminiscent of the Puddles just outside performs an olfactory ambush on the noses of all smelling beings in the vicinity, as Argon performs a multiple sacrifice to the patron deity of bodily excretions.
Assuming Wis and Courageous bonuses apply? As if it matters...
Blood oozes from an abrasion upon the boy's cheek. It is deep and will leave a scar, which he will look on with fondness for years to come. The scar reminds him of a time laced with unlimited possibilities and simple joys.
A smear of blood stains Daxniss' cheek, and though the Xthian had seen it he was laughing too hard to speak. He is rather agile as he runs for his life, but nothing compared to the future rogue, who is more akin to a hunting cat than a child.
Hearing Argon's words stiffens his backbone, and he starts to turn around to plant his feet and defend his honour, but then decides that discretion is the better part of valor and continues running, this time squealing, "I think you're incorrect, she's as scary as a dragon...and has the breath to match. Stop her... Before she gets to the children!"
Peals of laughter are interrupted by his masters words, and he stops to respectfully accept his punishment with downcast eyes and silence. If truth be told he was stunned by the fairness of the punishment, so much so that he found it difficult to trust that he understood the truth of what was being asked of him.
The skin of his emaciated back told the tale of his punishments in scar tissue. Wrathe had spent his entire young life as a slave toiling under the whip of cruel master, seeking to satisfy any malicious whim, generally by ravaging the bo'ys supple flesh, or defiling his body, mind, and spirit.
He was completely oblivious to how close he had come to being skewered by the least sociable creature on Sel Torin.
Glints of dull sterling peer out from 'neath the depths of a simple burlap cowl. Tiny petals of light carve their way through the threadbare fabric revealing gaunt flesh riding over angular cheekbones, one stained with his blood. His arms remain behind his back as he stands and awaits his turn to introduce himself.
"I am Wrathe Jor Sepai. It is a pleasure to make your acquai..."
Argon's scream shakes him from his reverie, and cuts him off in mid-sentence as he rushes over to discern what was attacking the largest boy.
Glancing at the mirror, then Lilith, and back again, he back peddles and looks to Dainoth for direction.
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The scent! I can....my Irori, please...
Dorian backs away from Wrathe as far as he can. Shaking, staggering, silently squirming with appetite, Dorian silently excuses himself from the room. He quickly moves into another screened area, sits on the bare flooring, and begins to attempt an exercise to calm himself....
Lilith nodded exaggeratedly at the description of the coffin while continuing to eat. She waved at the children as they introduce themselves. She was finally starting to get full - well, it hadn't actually been that long since she'd started eating, but it had been a long time since she'd last been full.
"My name is Lilith." she finally got out "As I'm sure you've gathered."
After the mirror had been placed in front of her, she looked curiously into into. She was startled, naturally, but it would be hard to tell. She looked less like she wanted to run away from her reflection and more like she wanted to run tests on it.
"What is--"
She jumped a little as the boy screamed. Her surprise quickly turned into a smirk as she looked up at him, her cold eyes staring right into him.
"What is it I see here? A possessor demon? I certainly don't feel possessed." she said still watching the boy who screamed. She glanced back down at the mirror and leaned down to get a close look at it after she finished asking her question.
At Lilith leaning closer to the mirror, Dainoth snatches up the cloth and drapes it over the mirror.
"Don't touch, it might be able to manifest itself if you do," Dainoth warns as he lays the mirror down. Looking at Argon, the old man glances around the chamber. "Ssilax, take Argon and draw a bath for him, get him cleaned up. Wrathe, in my alchemy chamber, red cabinet, second drawer from the bottom are vials. Bring me the small orange vial," Dainoth orders. The old man leans back in his chair as the apprentices start moving.
"Possessor Demons are spiritual parasites. They cling to a host, slowly eating away at the host's soul and spiritual energies. Like a leech draining blood, you wouldn't feel anything amiss, right up until your body dies and it takes over," Dainoth speaks loud enough for his apprentices to hear. "At night, they manifest themselves upon this plane and revel in nothing but slaughter." The old man pauses to look at Lilith. "They are a left over abomination from when your people warred with the dwarven folk. They seek out all but dwarves, delighting in possessing elf's, at least that what I remember from what little lore there is on the subject."
Glancing at Wrathe, Drainoth frowns momentarily, looking at the cut on the almost human's cheek. His brown eyes flicker around the chamber, noting one of the children is missing.
"Wrathe, clean your cut, and throw the cloth away in the white ceramic jug in the alchemy room," he catches the boys arm as he walks by. "The blood drinkers always hungers for more blood, they are never truly sated. Be aware of that." Dainoth whispers to the apprentice before releasing his arm.
At Dainoth's instructions, Ssilax almost wants to refuse the order. If would mean getting closer to the Possessed elf. Looking over at Argon gripped by fear, the dragonkin knew what he had to do.
Slipping over to Argon, get gently guides the other almost human to the bath chamber. He does his best to block the sight of the elf and the mirror with mixed results. He speaks calmly and softly as he approached and proceeds to the bathroom.
"It will be okay. It was just a mirror, Dainoth wouldn't let that thing harm you again," Ssilax quietly reassures Argon. "Nothing is going to get you, your safe here. That was just a nasty surprise, that's all."
The dragonkin makes it a point to ignore the smell rolling off of Argon's clothes.
Argon recovers. His embarrassment is palpable, and his pride is wounded as he stands and addresses Ssilax. "Yes, you're right - I was just surprised. I felt so safe here, but the reality is there are things out to get us. And that elf is possessed. Thanks, I can bathe myself."
As he undresses, angrily preparing his soiled clothes for washing, Ssilax can hear Argon mumble, "Almans are supposed to be unshakable..."
Returning from the alchemy chamber with the requested vial, he stands close and listens intently to what Dainoth had relayed about Possessor Daemons. The horrific image of the Clawed monster was emblazoned into his mind.
Nodding he moves off to tend to his wound, and wipe the blood from Daxniss' face, and dispose of the remnants. Wrathe pads off to find Dorian and assure him that there was no more blood flowing freely, and then sets to the cleaning tasks that had been assigned to the apprentices.
There was much to ponder, and the automatic nature of cleaning was a wonderful catalyst for deep thought.
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Sitting on the floor, legs crossed, eyes closed, breathing even and steady, Dorian appears relaxed as Wrathe assures him that everything is fine.
Opening his ice blue eyes, Dorian nods to Wrathe.
Apologies, my friend, but I am still learning to....deal with my urges. I am trying by Irori! It seems to be more difficult at certain times more than others. I appreciate your concern.
Rising to his feet, Dorian leaves with Wrathe, returning to the main chamber.
Master Daiinoth, my apologies.
Dorian bows to Lilith.
Greetings, I am called Dorian.
" Um, okay sorry I didn't think that Wrathe was so easilt spooked, I'm Daxniss Sassith, I'll get started on the kitchen work unless there was something else you wanted me to do? " Daxniss asks, her body already moving into a crouching position from Argon's scream of terror. Not looking at the mirror if Dainoth was correct, the last thing that she wanted to have happen to her is the same kind of 'spirit'.
Helping out Wrathe, she glances at Lilith's direction, she barely avoids glaring at the elf child, she still wants to find something to lash out at, quelling the anger and the response to attack what had scared her. There really was nothing that she felt would help out and not to mention, she really didn't have any target.
"Hello to you, children." Lilith bowed her head to the various children who had introduced themselves to her.
She smiled - or grinned as it were - at the children for a moment before realizing that some of them had likely missed her previous introduction. "In case you hadn't heard, my name is just Lilith." she said, her words slithering out of her mouth now.
Even as the equivalent of a teenage elf, Lilith had a certain aura about her. It was cold and with little emotion, something much easier to sense after her reaction to the possessor demon she saw. Daxniss caught this feeling when she glanced over, Lilith's calculating eyes looking into hers.
Finally looking back toward the old man, Lilith's curiosity came bounding back; "Is there a way to rid me of the demon? Is there a way to meet it or speak to it?"
"Speaking with it would be a waste of time, the parasites are barely sentient. More cunning than anything. And unless your looking for a quick path to the afterlife, you don't want to meet it," Dainoth says with a shake of his head.
"The coffin was the manner in which they were transported. Whomever they infected was allowed to die, then sealed in the coffin. One of the few ways to keep it in one place," the old man pauses, taking a drag from his pipe. "It's a bit dangerous, but yes, I believe there is a way to get rid of it without sacrificing another to be it's host." The old man holds up a small orange vial.
"First, drink this, it will make your mind a little cloudy feeling, but will prevent the parasite from listening in on your thoughts. I don't want it trying to stop us. From what little was left of your image on the mirror, you don't have much time left," the old man says rather grimly.
Lilith has a sudden irrational urge to knock the vial from the old mans hands. It makes her hand twitch slightly, as if the limb thought it might not be that bad of an idea. She doesn't feel any more need to act on the impulse.
At Dorian's arrival, Dainoth looks over at the half-living boy. He acknowledges the apology with a brief smile and nod of his head.
Fetching a bucket for the dirty clothes he sets it down near the tub. Realizing that Argon might be uncomfortable with the dragonkin watching him remove his clothing, he politely turns around and walks back to the entrance. Hearing the near human mutter, Ssilax turns his head slightly.
"Not to intrude, but who are the Alman's?" the young dragonkin asks, curiosity peeked by the mention of a race of people he didn't know about. "If you don't mind talking about it, that is." adds the shy reptilian boy.
Wrathe lovingly retrieves 'Amongst the Begrimed Masses' by Duvalle and carries it with him into the kitchen area to be propped open so he can peruse it while he scrubs the floor.
He reads the seminal text on the races of Sel Torin aloud, "Unlike most races, gnomes do not generally organize themselves within classic societal structures. Gnome cities are unusual and gnome kingdoms almost unknown. Further, gnomes have no particular tendency to gather in specific neighborhoods even when a large number of them live among other races. While specific laws meant to contain the potential impact of gnomes on a society may require a 'gnome quarter,' and societal pressure sometimes causes all non-gnomes to move away from areas with high gnome populations, left to their own devices, gnomes tend to spread evenly throughout communities that allow them."
He wipes his hands on the threadbare burlap of his garb and then makes a few notes in his travel journal before returning to his toil.
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Just as a point of interest, that demon you are speaking of, does it live in her blood? If so, perhaps, I could actually be of assistance?
Dorian smiles at Lillith. His ice blue eyes sparkle as he pointedly shows his fangs.
Admittedly, I am unlearned as to these things, but if something helpful can be had...?
"It's no intrusion," says Argon.
"I come from the Isle of Alman. It's a place that's almost impossible for sailors to find, but those who live there, like my family did, can leave easily. My sister still lives there, I guess. There's a huge volcano in the center of the isle, and everyone who is born there becomes like me - blessed... um, affected by magma. My da told me that makes us stronger and faster, and able to see in the dark. It's supposed to make us braver too, but as you saw, that may not be true. I... I couldn't help myself..."
After cleaning off the vast majority of the... feculence, Argon climbs into the hot bath and soaks for a bit before he starts to scrub.
Getting to his feet with the sound of creaking joints, Dainoth stops in his tracks and looks at the young dhampire. The old man's expression is both serious and sad.
"No, the parasite lives within her soul, which makes it extremely hard to detect and remove. You feeding on her would, in effect, cause the demon parasite to reproduce. There would be one of it living in Lilith, and one living in a dhampire," a visible shudder runs down his spine. "And I don't want to think about what one of these demons could do once it consumes your soul and takes over your body."
Looking critically at the young monkling, it looks like Dainoth is mulling whether or not to tell him something. Taking a puff from his pipe, the old mage speaks his mind.
"I would be very cautious about feeding, if I where you, young man. I've known several dhampire's over the course of my life, thanks to the vampire invasion thirty years ago. Every time they feed off the blood of sentient's they would..., lose part of themselves. Eventually, they regressed into feral beasts that had to be slain. I would keep that very firmly in your thoughts." Dainoth's expression softens slightly. "Which is why I'm having you go to one of the most powerful monks in Caern. I'm not going to lie to you boy. Sabavet will either forge you into a being of incredible power and will. Or you will not survive his training, there isn't much middle ground with that one. I believe some of the blessings of your half-dead nature will give you the edge you need to survive. I'm not in the habit of throwing young peoples lives away." He says with a look aimed at the gravel voiced man.
The man in black has less than subtly turned his chair towards Lilith. Other than that, he is motionless. It's hard to tell if he is even breathing underneath his garb.
Letting that settle in the mind of the half-living child, Dainoth calls for his apprentices. The two follow him to the alchemical area and become mobile shelves that breathe. Wrathe does end up with the lighter items, an oddly curved knife, the metal seems dull, greyish-black, almost flat, it weighs practically nothing. Several different metal vials, with no labels, but different colored metal stoppers. A mortar and pestle are added to the boys hands. Ssilax receives the bulkier load out. Dainoth has him carry a travel box of some sort. It's about three feet long and a foot wide and a foot deep. The dragonkin grunts slightly under it's weight as he carefully carries it out to the table.
"Alright, clear the table," the old man instructs the apprentices where to place the items. They are all set up close the mysterious mahogany box. He looks at Lilith. "Having a little trouble convincing yourself? That's the Possessor. The vial is nothing more than extract of halfling weed. Works wonders on mind flayer's. They stand around talking about the colors in the air," the old man snorts with amusement, his eyes far away within a memory. Blinking a few times to clear his thoughts, he looks at the young elf expectantly.
Rygear patiently waits, while questions where visible on his face, the realization that a demon could be listening in kept him muzzled.