Seeking of the Butcher

[Mariana Xiechai]

Daggers have pitifully short range, get a longsword and maybe people will start worrying!

Shoulda been clearer...that was a reference to Barsidious, not Teeleh. Teeleh doesn't need petty things like weapons...

That was the point... I was mentioning barsidious. >.< (C->E mari. We've worked on this!)

Apparently not enough.

[Mariana Xiechai]

The reek was nauseating. A foul odor that poured out of the statuary's maw and flooded the air around it as though the face was exhaling in rank, festering breaths. And like a hound on a scent trail, Teeleh had followed this odor to its source with eager and ready intent. A simple drugged drink had rendered its guardian rather incapacitated, which left him more than free to slide down the makeshift throat into the corpse infested bowels below.

It was ripe for the plucking. Already he could see the fresher bodies piled near the front of the labyrinthine tunnels, fingers curled in rigor mortis, eyes wide open and gazing up at the stalactites above. The lurking grendols were no issue either, he could sense them from miles away, layered in rotted flesh as they were, and with a twist of a finger he could bend them unerringly to his own will. Setting them up in the darker corners was a simple endeavor, and pushing them towards the front to waylay any would-be travelers was equally less than labor intensive.

Not that he expected visitors. From what he understood of the place, one was not meant to traverse these necrotic streets if they wanted to be welcomed back into any city on this level. Banishment was the punishment. It made no sense to him, really. Respect for the dead. The dead were little more than hollow husks, the stuff that was important was long since evacuated. It was the soul that was so much more difficult to bend, or draw back into the body, as it were. Countless years of study had not yet been enough to perfect the finer points of such an endeavor. Permanent resuscitation was such a tricky, tricky thing, and compared to his ultimate goal the petty raising of an undead groaning hunk of flesh seemed useless at best.

Teeleh passed the sizable burden of his pack off to one of his lumbering minions after coaxing the creature out of the mud. Its fingers were less than nimble, but doing such menial grunt-work was still within its capacity. Deeper he walked, his voluminous cloak held clenched in his fists to keep it clear of the muck that was coating his boots. He would have to wash everything thoroughly later. There was no telling what diseases lay incubating in this ripe atmosphere, and even he was not immune to such occurrences. Far more resistant, yes, but certainly not immune.

It didn't take long to find a place to set up camp. When he was a considerable distance inside, he began unpacking his belongings carefully, setting up what would be necessary for his stay. Other niceties like sleeping places and recreation could easily be purchased with coin, but the loyalty required for keeping a secret such as this was far more pricey. For the moment he would have to keep it carefully stowed away, out of sight and mind, until he could slowly and carefully construct the type of loyalty he required. It was a rigorous and tedious process, but the rewards were always quite fruitful. He'd come to regard it as an art form, and while he was intelligent enough to acknowledge he hadn't quite mastered it himself, he was at least quite good at it. Many things were required for the perfect formula; the individual selected must believe he had something they desperately want or need. They must believe that he also felt personally attached to them, that he had much compassion for their situation and that he desired to help. He must provide that solution, after having promised it, and deliver it without any strings or promise of payment. Then he must make a show of leaving it at that, as though nothing more at all was required, and that out of the goodness of his own person, he'd gifted them with a small salvation.

That was it. A very deliberate dance, a play of cards. Worming ones way into the heart of another was not so much difficult, it was merely a thing that took time, and careful planning. A deft hand and gentle touch, as it were. They had to believe, with every fiber of their being, that he cared for them, and that he was in essence, good.

Goodness. A strange notion, really. Like a thing that people seek ravenously so that they can leech off of it. Yet it doesn't truly exist. A give and take system is the best one can get out of the idea. No one is really inherently good. White splatters on the black canvas of a terribly lost soul.

“I'm merely no exception,” he intoned aloud. The lumbering grendol beside him grunted and eyed him with rotting corneas that oozed some strange yellow substance. He would have to make certain he didn't actually physically touch the stuff; certainly some of the bodies that had died of the plague resided here, and while he wasn't at risk to contract that specific disease, he certainly didn't want to bring it into the cities. He had no desire to experience an outbreak again.

Teeleh's hand wandered towards the concealed pocked in his vest, covering it, thinking of the words scrawled between its binding. Another priceless relic: knowledge. An account of all he had garnered in many century's time. He'd purchased the thing off of a merchant years and years and countless years before. A wonder in itself; an uttered word could open trigger the book to transform what was inside. In essence it could never be entirely used up.

Tonight, he decided he needed a reminder of the reasons why he was doing what he was. He leaned over the book as he sat down upon a carefully smoothed mat, and let his breath ghost over the stylized letters on its cover:

“Fantarà.”

His work would have to start on the morrow.

[Mariana Xiechai]

[The following is a tangible book in the game, that one might feasibly get their hands on, but which is rather difficult to crack. I'm posting it here so that I can put the pictures one would find inside the book in this thread, and so that if there's no time to read what's entered, people can find a permanent post for the entry. In game, rules are written inside the book to tell you what you'll see depending on what you do with it. I ask that you cordially follow these rules, and that you must make an effort to find out the words ICly, before information can be gleaned from the book.]

[If you say Fantarà (home):]

I recall it as though it ocurred yesterday, not centuries ago. I suppose that can either render credability to the sharpness of my memory, or perhaps truth to the potency of the event. Or maybe it is merely the disillusionment of the flow of time, which to me has always seemed a slippery and unpredictable thing, like trying to wrap your fingers around a wriggling trout.

The first one to catch the illness was dead long before we realized what it was he had contracted. We didn't recognize the yellowish curd in his eyes, dripping foamy from their corners and carving paths down his cheeks. We didn't understand the way his skin turned pale and then began to rot, the circulation first to his extremities eliminated so that he could not handle food, or walk correctly. It took his vitals next, and it was a slow, slow death. He couldn't eat, could barely drink, his body unable to handle the taxing efforts of digestion. I was told he was a blind, blubbering fool during the last few limbless weeks of his life, and I suppose that means in the end it takes your mind as well. I wouldn't know. The younger ones weren't allowed into his tent.

His caretakers were the ones to fall ill next. These were finally quarinteened, but by the time the order was issued and carried out it was far, far too late. People began dropping like stones sent skipping across water. Some of them came up more times than others, some fought harder, but the result was always the same: a six foot hole dug in the ground.

We didn't realize that the water supply was contaminated from the location of the bodies until the illness had been ever so thoroughly contracted. That was of course when the burning began. Massive holes dug in the earth just outside the village, into which the corpses of the unfortunate were tossed and then layered in various flammable liquids. The scent of burnt hair and flesh loomed in the air long after the flames had died, and after a while it created an ever-present smaug in the valley, hovering over our heads day in and day out like some perverse omen.

Once, when I was out watching the burnings, I saw a man run screaming out of the pit. His arms were flailing above his head, and he spun in circles many times as though he were a bird attempting to take flight. No one rose to help him. He was diseased, of course, mistaken for dead. They merely watched him as the fire consumed his raw and ruddy flesh. I watched too, rooted to the ground, lips parted in morid fascination. I wondered for the first time then what it must be like to die.

Most of the village turned to religion. The dakkruists were the first to bend the knee and pray for salvation, pleading with their goddess to take these souls into her Realm and then allow them to find their way back to the surface. The Laanx-followers believed of course that this was all some terrible act of retribution for a crime commited, and they pleaded with their condemning god that we might all be freed from the burden of judgement. The Xiosians were by far the worst, however. Their warbling cries filled the air all hours of the day and night, as though they were trying to outdo the groans of the sick and the dying. They burned incense meant to erradicate the smell of the rotting flesh, but somehow it only managed to enhance to cloying odor, make it sickly-sweet, so that soon everyone had to wonder around with cloths over their mouths and noses if they wanted to breathe at all.

As a mere child of only twelve cycles, most of these rituals seemed vague and pointless to me. No matter how many slits in the flesh were made, no matter how many laments up to a grey and cloudless sky, there was no response. I began to think that it was somewhat less surprising that there were those who didn't believe in the gods at all. Except in my case, while I acknowledged their existance, I learned from the experience just how distant and useless they all were. Sitting somewhere up beyond the dome on bejeweled chairs and scratching their fat, devine asses.

My younger sister was the first to catch it. She was five, and one day she fell over while bringing wood in for the hearth. I watched her. She didn't stumble; she merely fell, the strength in her legs failing her as she ended up face down in the snow surrounded by scattered bits of bark. I carried her inside, and in the dim lighting for the first time my parents and I saw it: the yellowish tinge around her irises. Funny, that it might have been quite pretty if it didn't signal death. The way it made her bright green eyes stand out even more than they had before.

It only took her two weeks to die. She was too young to fight it any longer than that.

The death of my parents was much, much slower. My days became routine; I would carry through the chores mechanically, do my best to keep the reek out of the walls and floorboards by thoroughly washing their festering skin with warm, damp pieces of fabric. I'd wash these, too, when I was finished, and store them away for the next day, before I set about tidying the house and clearing away waste matter. I brought in spring flowers when the season was right to try to brighten the place, though all it managed to do was attract a few bees to leak in from the broken windowpanes. I'd feed them, or at least as much as I could, though they frequently couldn't keep it down and I ended up cleaning that too. Then one day, my mother simply didn't wake up. I tried to jostle her, shook her shoulder, smoothed her cheek with my hands. But her eyes remained shut, her hands half-curled in sleep, her face a myraid patchwork of unnatural brusing and oozing sores.

My father died precisely one week later. I burned the bodies myself, along with the house. It was a suitable funeral pyre.

I think the greatest retribution from the gods somehow found its way to my shoulders. I was immune. In the many years following the incident I've never figured out why, but I was. An entire village, hundreds of people, desicrated and ravaged by disease, and there I stood at the center of the quiet ghost-town, untouched. I imagine the gods laughed at the irony of it; they kill off everyone and leave an almost entirely helpless little boy alone to fend for himself. Orphaned. Hollow. Walking dead.

I did walk. Blank faced and chap-lipped, I walked for days, until I'd used up all my water and collapsed beside a dusty road. I cried precious tears into the dirt until I had no more moisture left in me to leak into the ground. And, when I thought that surely death would claim me, in the distance I heard the clomp of horses hooves. Another divine cruelty. I was saved.

Years later I write these words so that I will not forget. So that no matter how many months go dragging past, I will always remember this misdeed that has passed far out of the minds of others. No matter how long it takes, I shall bring them back. I shall bring them all back. This I solemnly vow, upon the tainted soul that no god nor demon would dare lay claim to. I will right the wrongs that the gods have permitted upon this land, and unlock the key to immortality.

I am Teeleh Daleth, and this is my blood-pledge.

[Below this entry is a fingerprint, the color a faded brown.]

[If you say xup (die):]

[Below are diagrams and drawings of an incredibly arcane nature. They are all written in dermorian, but if deciphered, will translate to lists of blood samples, recipes, and encantations that allow for a great number of things. They are labeled very neatly in alphabetical order, from the raising of a corpse to the animation of pieces of a corpse; to the manipulation of a still-living grendel. There are formulations for the prolonging of one's own life, and the lives of others, most of them involving a sacrifice of one life for another, and chemical formulas listed below these as examples of how such a sacrifice must be prepared. One large diagram is beneath these notes in particular, a convoluted design that appears to be a collection of interwoven vines and painted braiding, clealry meant to be drawn out over the surface of a floor. One side has abundant foliage, and the other has dead, necrotic leaves.

Overall the notes seem to be incredibly complicated, and certainly not something a novice should be attempting. But ultimately one could glean this fact: Teeleh is practicing necromancy, and doing it both intensively and successfully.]

[Cairn]

I saw deh Teeleh!

[Mariana Xiechai]

I saw deh Teeleh!

Well considering his peacock-esq fashion sense he is rather hard to miss 

[Phantomboy86]

No burial wells? Isnt it ochtarchal order than plague victims especially get stuffed down the well?

[Mariana Xiechai]

No burial wells? Isnt it ochtarchal order than plague victims especially get stuffed down the well?

Well I should certainly hope that they would!

[Mariana Xiechai]

[To explain jewelry that may be popping up quite soon around Hydlaa. Instructions will be provided. Also, apologies for the rather extensive trimming I had to do of the text, but the original dialogue was over thirty pages in length, and potentially a tad overwhelming to post here ]

Citira strides into the tavern and then looks at Teeleh, smirking slightly "Here we are."

Aramara nods to those who've entered the Den, offering a pleasant and relieved smile to Citira when she recognizes her

Teeleh looks around at the establishment, with what is apparently approval, a quiet smile marking his lips as he steps fluidly down the stairs and cranes his head to examine the room further. "A nice place indeed. Who is the proprietor, I wonder?"

Citira looks at Armara and smiles softly at the Fenki, walking towards her "Hello there." she said softly before glancing at Teeleh "it is owned by Dannae, though a few of us have keys." as she strode towards the bar

Marishe smiles shyly as she walks in and slips into one of the chairs, taking out a book she begins writing in.

Teeleh sidles up to the bar to look towards Aramara. He notes her state of pregnancy with a paternal, charming twinkle of the eye. Reaching out slowly, his fingers hovering reverently over her bump, he asks with cordial politeness, "May I?"

Citira watches Teeleh with a raised brow a hint of unease crossing her features as she notices the state of her pregnancy before she looks at the bar and says softly "mind if I help myself?"

Aramara starts to greet Citira, "Hello Cit..." but she stops and looks past the Ynnwn to the dark haired elf behind her. Suddenly she shivers and her paws come to rest over her belly in a somewhat defensive gesture. Her eyes grow wide at teeleh's request and she takes a nervous step back, "umm... what... what can I get for you?'

Pentrian enters the tavern, slowly looking around, and smiling at the warm welcoming accommodations, before he moves to the line, looking at the menu with interest.

Teeleh allows a thoroughly perplexed frown to adorn his face. He puts his hand up, palm outwards, in a sign of submission, and then drops it loosely back down to his side, the motion sending a ripple through the supple fabric of his cloak. "I apologize, ma'am, I certainly meant no offense."

Aramara throws Citira a quick glance and a nod in answer. Her eyes remain wide and transfixed on Teeleh as she very timidly tries to rush through the transaction, as polite as can be, of course, "Umm... none taken sir, it's just... ummm.. wine did you say?"

Citira slips past the bar and picks out a bottle of nice red, of a good vintage, dropping a few coins n the shelf before turning from the shelves and walking back past the bar, pausing as she spots Morghain and smiling slightly "Ah! Morghain." she said, tilting her head a little "I need a word..."

Morghain nods, a slight grin lighting her face up. "Eh, Citira!" she walks over, "I'll sit down, somewhere, I guess. you look busy."

Teeleh eyes Aramara for a prolonged moment. To anyone watching, there is nothing but a kind, warm expression, a faint smile, crinkled eyes. Yet his glance is nearly palpable to the one he aims it at, an intensity that seems to transcend a simple look. His smile gives the barest of twitches, corners curving even further upwards in the look of a pleased cat who's just cornered a succulent mouse. Yet his speech, articulated perfectly, smooth and suave, comes out undaunted. "Wine would be fabulous. Aramara, was it?"

Citira laughs sofly and shakes her head, walking over to morghain with the wine "The drink is for me..." she said softly, grabbing two mostly clean glasses from the bar and glancing at Teeleh, deciding that he is sufficently busy. She walks over to Morghain and places the bottle and glasses on the table "How are you?" she began, opening with small talk

Morghain claps with a hint of delight. "Oooh! A bit of wine, perhaps?" she asks, a brow raising. "Doing good, actually. Excellent day. Some rot going on at the table, but that's all."

Marishe watches the interaction between Teeleh and Aramara with interest though she tries to hide it by holding the book in front of her face.

Aramara takes another step back, backing into the shelf of wine behind her. The bottles clink as they rock and bump into each other. The sound has her turn suddenly, her belly bumping into them again. She stammers as she reaches for the nearest one before it falls over, "y...yes... Aramara... p..pleased to meet you...umm..."

Teeleh rests his hands lightly upon the counter's top. Now the man expertly molds his features into the perfect facade of concern and perhaps even offense, as Aramara's fear of him grows increasingly apparent. He lets both emotions ring true in his voice as he slips from one persona to the next, smooth as a snake shedding its skin. "I apologize again that I seem to have startled you so gravely, miss Aramara. I can assure you it was never my intention to do so." Eying the bottle in her hand thirstily, he adds, "How much tria will that be?"

Aramara takes her eyes off of Teeleh just long enough to bow her head at Dharah's entrance. The presence of her sister in faith helps to calm her nerves somewhat, but her paw is still unsteady as she pours a glass of wine for Teeleh, "That'll be 25 tria for the wine" she answers, unable to maintain eye contact with the Dermorian

Dharah says: Is everything alright, Ara?

Teeleh fishes out the tria from an intricate felt pouch, the golden threads clearly pricey, before he slips it back into the confines of his copious clothing. He offers them to the fenki woman, but rather than slide them across the counter, the rest glimmering in the creases of the palm of his hand, awaiting her fingers to brush by and collect them. His eyes are still fixed upon the akkaio, giving nothing at all malicious away, yet holding in them a vague sense of foreboding that one could only begin to guess at. "I thank you," he murmurs quietly. "You may keep the change if you so wish."

Aramara nods quickly to Dharah with a less than reassuring, "Mhmm.." She eyes the coins in teeleh's palm with trepidation, but eventually suffers the pretenses of polite business transaction, nervously reaching out to take the coins, her eyes closed, head bowed.

Dharah frowns in concern

Pentrian taps his foot silently against the floor, watching Aramara's exchange with the stranger, with deep interest. His face is void of emotion, but a flicker of concern, perhaps not for her, flashes through his eyes.

Teeleh allows the fenki's soft touch to caress across his palm. Outwardly, he's still smiling. As if frozen in place and time, he does nothing but smile, and even laugh quietly at her over abundant show of humility. The glimmer in his eyes can even be skewed towards something akin to a delighted fondness, as though he not only approves of her demeanor, but finds her quite charming. Inwardly...
Teeleh's skin is like ice. His eyes bore into yours, and something briefly interjects into your mind, not so much like an actual invasion, but an aura, a power that hisses one simple message: "I see you, one who watches the fire." As quickly as it comes, it is gone, leaving nothing but a strange ringing of the ears.

Aramara becomes frozen in fright suddenly as she makes even the slightest contact with Teelah. Her eyes open wide, pupils dilated to fill her irises. She remains petrified as her fears become fully realized before her. She is only able to utter a soft, "No..." as she quickly withdraws her paw, holding it with her other as if it were wounded

Dharah looks from Aramara to Teelah and back again, chewing on her lip, uncertain if she should interfere when she isn't sure what the problem is.

Teeleh allows his hand to linger in the dead space between them, before dropping it idly back to his side. Again, his expression is merely one of concern, as he raises the other to cover his chest slightly in a gesture of being utterly perplexed. "Apologies again. I see I should retire before I upset you any further, ma'am." Grasping the bottle with long, pale fingers, Teeleh turns to find himself a seat, quietly.

Pentrian steps back from behind Teeleh, the concern on his face now unhidded... He too is unsure if he should interfere, but his hands instinctively drop to his daggers, and he gives an inquisitive glance to Aramara

Dharah leans in towards Aramara, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Marishe watches Teeleh walk to the table and sit. Her curiosity apparent on her face even though she tries to hide it.

Aramara clutches her paw to herself, eyes still wide in fear as they follow teeleh to his seat. Dharah's question of concern pulls her out of her shock and she quickly motions to the Nolthrir, whispering in a hushed tone, "Sister... quick, behind the counter, stay away from that man."

Pentrian removes his hands from the daggers, and moves closer to the counter "Greetings Hostess"

Dharah hastens to do as Aramara bids.
Dharah places a hand on Ara's shoulder, "What is it?"

Morghain looks over from Citira at Teeleh with some sort of curiosity, and stands, making a motion to press her hand lightly against Citira's as she does so, "I'll be right back..." she murmurs, and strides purposefully towards the man. "What did you do?"

Teeleh is pulling a book from his travelsack, opening it, scrawling a simple line of numbers, when he hears Aramara's remark. He looks back up again, the shock apparent on his features as he turns back to face the counter where the frightened akkaio and nolthrir are seeking refuse from...him. "Ma'am. I really do think you're taking this a bit too far. I can assure you that I'm no danger to you." He swings his arm outwards, indicating Citira, and Pentrian, in the gesture. "I've already conversed with some present in this place, they hardly look any worse for the wear." His book still held idly in his opposite hand, the quill clutched between ink-stained knuckles, he regards the cowering woman with a mournful glance, before turning that glance back to Morghain. "I've done nothing at all!"

Morghain leans over the table, disbelieving eyes looking Teeleh up and down. "Oh, haven't you?" she says, softly. "I don't think they'd be that worried over a little bit of nothing."

Citira inclines her head at Acon as well before looking at Morghain and saying in a voice loud enough to be heard "He is harmless Morghain... Just a jewelry merchant."

Aramara places her paw on Dharah's back and pulls the Nolthrir close in a protective manner, her attention still locked on Teeleh, "Just stay close," she says, despite his claims of innocence. Finally she turns her head to Pentrian with a nod, "I'm sorry sir... you were about to order?"

Teeleh crooks a brow slowly at Morghain, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips as he stands up once more. He sets the book down on the table and puts up his hands in yet another sign of submission, before saying with a somewhat grudging tone, "If you would allow me to...disrobe enough to reveal I'm not carrying with me any weaponry or glyphs, would that satisfy your concerns, miss...?" The fact that he finds the very idea incredibly distasteful is more than obvious in the way he speaks.

Pentrian looks at Aramara, the visage of concern still evident in his face, more so, as he glaces to her belly. "Uh.. Yes.. Though it seems, you are pre-occupied?"

Morghain smirks a little bit, and takes a hand off the table to adjust her hair as she does so, looking Teeleh over with moribund curiosity. "Well, as much as it'd entertain me, no, I'll pass. Unless you offer again later." she says, a single brow arching. She straightens after this, brushing the small of her back off with a few quick motions of her hands. "I suppose you're vouched for 'n all." she smirks, and rolls her eyes. "Just don't go scaring babies, or anything."

Pentrian lays 25 tria on the counter, having now memorized the list of prices behind the two. "If you would be so kind, I would appreciate a non-alcoholic cider", he states, in a low, but friendly non the less, voice.

Teeleh nods his head deeply to Citira to show his thanks to the woman, his brows pinched together with clear worry as he reclaims his seat, his glance deviating back towards the counter and the bar that is still occupied by Aramara and Dharah. Wearily, he places his head in one hand, eyes roving over the open book that graces the table's surface, and begins idly flipping through the pages, apparently finding what he was searching for before he puts quill to parchment and resumes his writing.

Aramara shakes her head in answer to Pentrian, but her eyes betray her as they keep glancing in teeleh's direction. She nods at the order and takes the coin from the counter and a mug towards the keg, filling it with cider as per the klyros's request.

Pentrian picks up the mug, without a smile, his eyes now cautiously turning to Teeleh as well. He sniffs it, loftily, and then takes a sip, nodding his thanks.

Dharah turns to Aramara again now that her customer is dealt with. "Is...what's the matter? I was hoping to maybe play a little up on stage, but if you don't think it's safe...?"

Teeleh doesn't appear to be doing anything. Actually, to be honest, the man is moping. Not stooping so low as to pout, per say, but he certainly doesn't look very pleased about having nearly been strip-searched. He's still writing, the only noise from his own corner the dry-paper-scratch against the tip of his finely feathered quill, its end drifting lazily over his shoulder. One of his fingers is gently massaging the side of his face, kneading the furrow between his brows every time it reappears, which is becoming increasingly frequent.

Pentrian slowly backs away, then moves to Teeleh's chair, indicating the seat across from him, he asks in Gadermara "May I sit, Barn-elf?"

Marishe keeps staring at Teeleh from over her book, a look of curiosity on her face as she tries to discern anything about him.

Aramara returns to Dharah's side as dictated by her rising maternal instinct. Cautiously she watches as others approach and deal with the frightening elf until she nods to her Dharah, "Go ahead Sister... just be careful... please."

Teeleh's features are fairly flat and indiscernible as it were, unfortunately. He does look up, however, pentip making a well of seeping ink as it continues in its contact with the still blank portion of a white page of paper. "Well I'm not entirely certain, sir. It appears I've been deemed a viper, but if you feel so brave as to sit beside me you are welcome to it." Strangely, he is speaking in common.

Dharah pulls out her lute and tunes it quickly

Morghain looks up and over, raising her voice at Teeleh. "A baby scarer, get it right." she teases, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And don't seem so low about it...barnelf. You're alright."

Dharah smiles out at the crowd, "Any requests?"

Citira makes a face and murmers under her breath "I do not like children..."

Teeleh waves a hand towards Morghain, generating a splatter of dark, iridescent ink that hovers in the air for only a moment before pattering uselessly to the floor. "My apologies. I frighten infants." He gives the nolthrir an appreciative smile.

Pentrian glances down at the book trying to he is writing. he speaks again in common, his words are cautiously formed, guarded. "Well, it seems I am at the right table, for I too am a scaled being, it would seem"

Teeleh gestures cordially towards the chair that Pentrian sits before, and then, as if showing good faith, he turns the book around and flashes a list of numerals and numbers upon the still-wetly inked page he's currently utilizing. "Plans to take over the world," he observes with mock sobriety.

Aramara casts one more cautious glance towards Teeleh's table before nodding to Qile, her smile now diminished. Her paws rest over her extended belly, "I've been well enough tabei. It hasn't all been easy, for certain, but i feel the time is near... the worst over." Her last words carry a dark tone to them as she glances at Teeleh once more.

Pentrian does not react to the jest, only nods, though by the slight scowl that crosses his face, he does not find it funny at all. He quickly hides the scowl, however, and takes the seat, looking over Teeleh with masked interest "So you are a merchant you say?"

Teeleh is either oblivious to Aramara's indicative glances, or he is making a point to avoid even looking in her direction. Lest he frighten her into hiding beneath the counter. After a few moments, he takes the book back, scritching away with occasional glances upwards at the klyros that has just joined him. "Apologies, perhaps a poor joke, she seems genuinely distressed." Heaving a sigh, he replies, "That's accurate, sir, I am a merchant. I sell many various types of wares. I'm here on holiday, taking a break from my usual work on the barn level, and tying up some loose bartering ends."

Citira glances at Morghain and shakes her head, saying in a low voice "I-..." she shook her head and glanced at Qile again, pushing her chair out and looking at the others and saying more clearly "I can't be here....I...just can't..." Citira throwing another look at Qile, her hand shaking slightly before she turns around, in an attempt to leave the den

Morghain pushes herself up to follow, heaving a sigh at Acon as she does so. She pats the table a few times, and walks after the woman. "I'll be back." she says, morosely.

Teeleh's eyes rove from Pentrian towards Citira. True sorrow lances across his face, and it appears he's about to stand up to go after her, but he hesitates as she and Morghain walk through the door together, appearing uncertain.

Pentrian nods, his gaze remaining on Teeleh, "Jewelry, If I heard correctly.. Do you by chance, have any samples of your wares? I..." His voice cuts off as the Dermorian abruptly stands, and he glances to the door

Teeleh purses his lips and looks back to Pentrian. One hand is on the table, the other hangs out in the air, as though he's caught between trying to decide upon a clear course of action. After a moment's hesitation, he seats himself once more, murmuring something about needing to speak with the ynnwn at a later time. At Pentrian's request, the elf plucks a parcel from a pocket in his robes and tosses it upon the table, waving a dismissive hand, clearly indicating that this is the answer to his query.

Pentrian breaks his gaze on Teeleh to look at the parcel. "may I?" He says, half concerned with it "I.. find myself, looking to purchase a present for... " his voice trails off before he continues "And, your arrival here is opportune"

Qile shakes her head and picks a few coins from her pocket, sliding them onto the counter before raising the mug and taking a deep gulp. She hardly seem phased by it as she immediately speaks in a clear, but rather dark tone, "Care to play the typical role of a bartender and hear about how I spent my week? Then we can justify me quitting my quitting drinking."

Teeleh groans, his eyes giving a brief roll. His hand drifts lazily forward, but the motion is incredibly sluggish, the palm facing upwards to show he's showing nothing at all. Drawing his sleeve back from his forearm to reveal pale, perfect skin and show that even in THIS way, he conceals nothing, his fingers grope at the packaging and then draw away the tanned-hide fabric to reveal...jewels. Marvelous jewels. Shimmering like specs of dome-light upon the table, they range from rings to necklaces to tiaras, all sparkling bits of gold silver and various faux metals presumably meant for ynnwn customers. Every gem imaginable bedecks their surfaces, some gaudy, others more asture and appealing to the senses. "Watch out," he mutters. "They might bite you."

[Mariana Xiechai]

Aramara takes another cautious glance towards Teeleh before looking back at Qile, seemingly simultaneously impressed and worried at the amount of lacka so quickly consumed, "umm... of course tabei, but... I do recommend you sip that drink."

Dharah pauses in her playing to admire the sparkling wares
Dharah moves unconsciously closer to look, "Oh, how lovely!"

Pentrian gasps at the radiance of the parcel, his eyes transfixed on them... He, almost misses, what he thinks is unbridled disdain in the elves tone. "Truly, they are amazing!"

Teeleh's face softens, and his eyes flit towards Aramara. They linger back again, and for all intents and purposes the man clearly looks put out. "Take one," he offers. "For that friend you half-mentioned. I assure you they aren't poisoned or anything, I'll put it on first if you want to check." He leans forward, intending to murmur something to the klyros."Any idea what the fenki might appreciate? I do feel badly I upset her so much. A pregnant woman, no less."

Pentrian is still transfixed by the jewels, though a slight frown creases his brows, before Teeleh leans over to him. He looks thoughtful for a moment, before murmuring a soft reply, "I truly do not know her well... but.. any of those fine pieces, would be graciously received by her I think"

Qile holds her drink close to her chest in both hands as she releases a short sigh. "Let's see. I sought out and joined the Sempetor, and that very day the woman that recruited me was attacked by a group of assassins." She nods once to drive in the truth of the story, "Oh yes, and I was there and in the crossfire. Of course she died, and they fled, leaving me alone. The next day I met Sempetor's Azure master." This statement gives Qile enough reason to pause to sip her drink. "Who psychically attacked me immediately upon seeing me. And then there was whatever happened to Jezzi - and the investigations and plans going into that. Oh, and Citira apparently falling in love with me and THAT didn't end well yesterday either. AND some crazy asshole I met yesterday said he loved me too! And then promptly went into some rant about how the Black Flame killed his family. Then he slapped me. Then he killed himself. Then he came back from Dakkru's realm and did it AGAIN. And today, I spent two hundred thousand - yes - two hundred thousand tria on iron ingots to donate to the Laanx temple."
Qile says: I earned my damned drink.
Qile punctuates her rant with another deep gulp of her lacka.

Dharah looks sideways at Qile, taken a bit aback by the flow of words

Marishe puts her book away and stares directly at the jewels in admiration. She seems to want a closer look but stays in her seat. He gaze glancing cautiously at Pentrian.

Pentrian cannot help but laugh at Qile's rant "You... Donated two hundred thousand tria, to those..."He says the next word with some scorn "Priests?"

Qile says: Yyyyyep.

Teeleh's attention deviates to the rambling fenki in wide-eyed astonishment, as one would of course react to the relaying of such a horrendously eventful day. After he collects his fallen jaw, he nods to Pentrian's answer, and his fingers wander without touching over the jewels, until he reaches a necklace that is dotted with fiery feathers, all shades of red and orange and yellow, growing in size from the ends of the golden chord and forming a zenith at the largest feather in the center. He selects this and moves with slow, deliberate steps towards the counter, placing it at the very edge, and then backing away once more, his hands held limply at his sides.

Qile says: Oooh. Gems.


Teeleh laughs softly at Qile. "You're welcome to help yourself."

Qile interrupts herself to down a bit more of that lacka. "The tribute was to Laanx. To bid her come home. And show devotion."

Pentrian watches Teeleh with a slight trace of amusement, but his glance falls inquisitively to Aramara, to study any reaction she may have to Teeleh's sudden generosity

Morghain turns to the counter, lazily setting her small hands on it, and raises a hand at the pregnant fenki, "Got any Fyran?" she says, lowly, and then turns towards Qile, nodding. "Good of you to do, miss."

Teeleh turns back to his table and seats himself, looking up again at the akkaio curiously. "Miss? It sounds like you've had a rough day as well." He passes his hand over the items. "Would you care for something? On me."

Qile nods to Morghain, though her reaction is a bit slower than those few in the group familiar with the warrior fenki might be used to. "I am Sempetor. It is my duty," she answers before spinning to Teeleh. "And I do not take strange things from strangers! Not after all that cursed whatnots floating around town."

Morghain looks a bit downcast, but waves it off with a happy smile that replaces the previous emotion. "Ah, well. Pity." she steps lightly around the people in the crowd, making her way to Teeleh on the other end of the bar. She lowers her voice, pressing her lips together, and sighing. "Sorry 'bout earlier."

Morghain smiles brightly at Qile. "Well, good to have you with us then!" she says, tilting her head around the Klyros to peer at Qile. "I'm an Enforcer within the Sempetor. Morghain is the name."

Teeleh gives a light chuckle to Qile and picks up a bracelet, dotted with silver etching, designs flowing across its surface. He claps it onto his own wrist, and...nothing happens at all. Nothing. No glazed over eyes, no flashes of light. Turning to look at Morghain, he shakes his head slowly. "No, no, something tells me I preached decorum, it's I who should apologize. Don't trouble yourself over it."

Pentrian looks over to Qile and offers a smile "Qile, have you met... Teelah here" He... Is a merchant, like you."

Qile grins to Morghain. "Long enough to see combat with 'em! I am new, though. A week..maybe two." She then in turn answers Pentrian. "I heard. Nice to meet you, Teeleh. Hah. Our names rhyme."

Morghain shrugs. "Oh, no. I just assumed from the way the preggers fenki was glaring daggers at you you'd put some sort of spell on her or something." she looks the elf up and down, "But you don't look the type."

Teeleh pops some tiny button on the piece of jewelry and slips it from his wrist, tossing it idly into the glittering pile. "I thank you for that, at least, ma'am," says the elf, turning to offer one shimmering, ring-encrusted hand to the nolthrir. "Teeleh Daleth. Good to meet you.
Teeleh gives Qile an amused smile. "Indeed they do rhyme. What an honor for me."

Qile suddenly pauses. "Oh! Right." Sip. "Qile! Qile Yszir. Brawler, protectorate, merchant of anything that sells." She dips a low bow, careful not to spill the little that remained in her cup, in introduction to both Morghain and Teeleh.

Morghain smiles widely. "Qile! I like it. Well, you have my welcome. And obviously Lani's, since you're not wandering around the temple looking for nothing." she smirks, and walks around the table to offer the fenki her hand, "Morghain Tynth, th'Morghain you may already know, but I am a protectorwot, excellent knife artist, and purveyor of fine....eh. Who'm I kidding. I'm a paid priestess."

Teeleh's eyes crinkle, laugh lines radiating from their corners as he gently thrums his fingers along the table's surface. Contended now, probably because no one is looking at him intending to point fingers or accuse him of being terribly nefarious, he finally pops the cork on that bottle he bought and sips delicately from it, letting it placate his pallet. He focuses on the bottle in his hand and begins to swirl the scarlet liquid slowly, sloshing it into a tiny whirlwind within the confines of the glass. His thoughts are clearly elsewhere now, as he languishes back against his seat, swinging his legs up to balance two perfectly polished boots upon the table's corner. Occasionally he sips, and a smile, reminiscent of someone who may or may not be a tad bit tipsy, is spreading steadily across his face. Yet oddly, his eyes do not have the haze of drunken stupor. They remain sharp, and keen, as he listens idly to the words being spoken.

Qile shamelessly, perhaps quite purposely, finds her way into Pentrian's seat and finishes the last of he lacka. She dips her head, quite obviously now feeling the effects of the alcohol creeping into more than just her speech. "So you're a merchant of fine jewelry, huh?" she asks Teeleh directly. "Here from the Barn level. I don't suppose you're familiar with a man named Deeps, huh?"

Morghain nods with satisfaction, her face returning to normal. With a mild sway to her walk and a bit of disorientation, she meanders to a seat near Teeleh as well, and drops her elbows to the table, and palms upwards, rests her chin in the cup her hands make. She stares at Teeleh, and smiles widely. "Oh, a Barn merchant! With Jewelry!" she says, drawling the words out. She shifts in her seat, arching her back mildly, and settles her chin more comfortably into her hands. "Was that the book you were writing in, too?" she questions, and then swivels her eyes to peer at Qile. "And was this Deeps the slave man you were talking about?

Teeleh directs his attention to Qile. His speech is somewhat less...pristine, as the words begin to slur together in an odd fashion, though they're certainly not quite difficult to understand yet. "I'm a jewelry merchant, that's correct." Pondering in silent thoughtfulness at the woman's inquiry, he frowns when he doesn't come up with anything, and licks some of the wine still stuck in the creases of his mouth before helping himself to another hearty quaff, dribbling some of it unintentionally to the floor but miraculously missing his clothing. "I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name. But then I don't get out much, mainly hire people to do the traveling before me." He gives Morghain a dreamy, liquored smile as she advances.

Pentrian picks up the mugs, and with a nod turns around to rejoin the table.
Pentrian moves back to the table and plops into the free table, plopping the mugs down
Pentrian is about to take a sip from his, when a foul odor crosses his nose, and he almost gags... He switches their location, looking to Qile "This must be yours"

Morghain returns the smile, her own lips pressing together and moving upwards with a sense of amusement in the forethought action. "I s'pose it's a good trade, jewelry?" she laughs, hiccups, and then waves over at Teeleh. "Er, I guess it is. I mean, after all, look at ya."

Qile lifts a finger, pointing to Morghain but keeping her now-distanced eyes on Teeleh, "Yep, that's the one. Leave it to Qile to be knee deep in the slave trade at all times..." She heaves a sigh, "That's too bad. It might be worth a few circles to someone to get to know Mister Deeps a bit better." She then turns to Pentrian. Chatty Qile was chatty. "Yes! It must be." She drops her empty mug and swipes up the new one, offering Pentrian a wide grin. "Not a drinker, huh?"

Teeleh wiggles his expensively ringed hands and gives his cloak a suave toss over his shoulder, all with a stoically straight face, before erupting in a fit of bubbly chortling. "Yes, yes, though it's mostly about appearances." A finger raises to point at Morghain, and he sway somewhat as he leans forward, "I'm not really all this ga....gaudy all the time, but you know, success. Gets the point across." He directs his attention back to Qile, and again that thoroughly baffled look of someone trying to get half-wine-drowned cogs turning overtakes his face. "Ah, ah, sorry. When I get back, I shall ask around for your friend, yes?"

Pentrian looks to Qile "Not of late no.. Especially, when it seems that near every night, a brawl breaks out in Kadas, due to some drunken insult or another"

Morghain sprawls her little arms against the back and sides of her chair, inner elbows propped up by the corners. She looks at Qile and shrugs, "Oh, I don't know of him, kinda just putting two and two together." at Teeleh's exuberance, she leans forward, pressing her lips together and giving the man a quick wink, the curvature of her mouth slipping up in forcedly flirtatious curve. She raises her brows, appearing naively interested, "If I were to buy jewelry, you -would- be the man to sell it to me, right?" she says, "Although, friend, you may be askin' for a beating from th'people around this town, dressing all rich and the like."

Aramara glances around the room, and seeing that everyone has been served she nods, "I could use a moment off my feet.

Qile offers Teeleh a deep nod. "Remember the name - Qile Yszir. Send a groffel when you find anything out. Anything and everything is good information." Pentrian next, Qile's eyes slide lazily to look to him. "She pauses long enough to take a sip of her drink. "Thank you, by the way, for the drink. Does this make us friends now? After Kada-El's yesterday, I'm not sure where we stand." Morghain's turn, "You know, Morghain, there's an interesting thing about slaves."

Pentrian looks to Qile, missing most of the conversation, he finds himself asking "Are you saying that you are a slave yourself, only to the constructs of your own mind?"

Qile downs another long swig of her drink. "No, no, see, Pentrian, that is the problem. We fight and struggle every day to find happiness and contentment with ourselves and the world. We guess and throw darts at the ideas of love, of righteousness, of what it means to be happy and how to do it. A slave can have something none of us ever can - the answers to those questions. That is what I am saying."

Teeleh draws his hand and the extent of his arm along the table, collecting the pile of tantalizing gemstones and silver-gold filigree and sliding it to set before the nolthrir. "I am indeed the merchant for such things, but considering recent events I'm giving out samples of the merchandise. Call it good public relations if you will. Help yourself if you so desire." His vernacular slips into a business tone, despite his current state of being, and he takes another healthy swig of the superior brand of wine he's imbibing before looking back to Qile. "I'll be sure to...*hic* remember that, your pardon ma'am." Fingering a kerchief in his pocket, he dabs politely at his mouth.

Morghain smirks a bit, eyes wandering over the pile of jewelry. She waves it off, "Oh, no, I couldn't. This is all so fine!"

Teeleh gives an encouraging wave in return, but beyond that doesn't press. "Consider it my thanks for the fine company!"

Marishe glances back quickly as Teeleh mentions free samples, looking longfully at the jewels.

Qile waves dismissively to Teeleh, "Pardon? None needed. You are not among nobility here as far as I know."

Morghain looks at the jewelry for a few mor moments, then selects a shiny, meaningless bauble, slipping it into her tria pouch. "Well, this'n will do. I don't need to be a vain woman."

Teeleh's pile of jewelry includes various items, varying from gold to silver, essentially anything a girl could possibly want to decorate herself with. There is a necklace with the masked image of Laanx dangling from it that might catch the woman's eye, wrought in finely crafted, superb detail. There are also various bracelets, simple by comparison to many equally details effigies of the gods, speckled twice over their thick, precious-metal bands with gemstones that catch the light on their multi-faceted surfaces.

Morghain selects one of the simpler, albeit gaudy bracelets

Marishe finally finds the courage to make her way to the table as she glances shyly at Teelah. "Good day sir. Did you say free?"

Teeleh laughs amicably at Qile's statement, and turns his attention to the conversation at hand, a keen intent quite clear upon his face as he attempts to get past his drunken stupor in order to understand what's being spoken of. He nods to Marishe, and again, runs his fingers over the proffered keepsakes.

Marishe starts to reach out but then draws her hand back nervously. "But they are so beautiful. You are sure they are free?"

Teeleh dips his head wearily. "Indeed, I am certain. Call it a thank you for not throwing me in the brig."

Marishe finally reaches out and picks out a nice piece. She admires it approvingly. "Thank you so much kind sir."
Teeleh nods his head once kindly and replies, "You are most welcome."

Marishe glares angrily at Pentrian "Why do you keep following me? Don't think I didn't notice you slinking in right after me. You...you evil klyros you!"

Teeleh's eyes drift lazily back to Pentrian as he resumes his speaking. Then to Qile, as she makes her admonitions, admiring the way the alcohol has loosened her tongue. Frowning, the elf looks back to Marishe and states: "It's a tavern, miss. No one is barred from using it. And the man is merely sitting here, enjoying a good conversation with the lady. There is no harm in that."

Pentrian looks to Qile "Another one?" then to Marishe "I... am sorry.. but It is mere coincidence that you and I seem to locale the... only two drinking esablishments"

Qile says: No yelling, please...no fighting. I'm not in the mood. I've done quite enough of that lately. Have a drink. Pentrian is a nice guy. He's even gonna get me another drink!
Qile says: You might like him.

Marishe frowns at him "This crazy klyros has tried to kill me twice and now acts as if he never did it. If I turn my back he will probably try to slit my throat again."

Teeleh says: "I highly doubt he'll do it in a place such as this. Calm yourself, claim a seat."

Qile's eyes slide slowly to look at Pentrian for a long moment. "Perhaps now is a good time to settled your diffferences then?" she turned a smile to Marishe. "I promise on my honor I will make sure you come to no harm here."

Marishe looks back to Teeleh and smiles "Ah yes...most likely not. Thank you for offering me a chair." She goes around to the chair next to Teeleh and sits down.

Marishe nods to Qile "Thank you dear fenki. He keeps muttering on about that cursed book and all.."

Teeleh opens his mouth perhaps to state that he was in fact indicating she should reclaim HER chair, over at HER table, but decorum dictates his remaining polite. Instead of doing this, he appears to be content with the time the jewels have been offered, and he packs them carefully away and tucks them into the confines of his cloak.

Qile says: I want to hear nothing about curses or fighting or broken hearts tonight!

Marishe nods "Okay..."

Pentrian turns around and returns to his seat, looking wearily at the Klyros who has now twice accused him of assault tonight

Marishe scowls angrily at Pentrian but doesn't say anything else.

Teeleh stands up, wavering at the knees as he does so, grasping his bottle of wine and taking it with him as he manages to, by sheer force of will, claim his feet. With a dip of his head to each of the occupants in the room (which he probably sees two or three of in some cases,) he meanders his way drunkenly to the door, and exits for the evening.

[Mariana Xiechai]

Travosh says: Aramara.

Aramara bowed her head, "travosh... how pleasant to see you."

Travosh laughed. "You don't need to lie."

Aramara tilted her head, wearing a friendly smile, "I have no reason to lie to you Travosh."

Travosh says: Everyone has reason to lie to everyone.
Travosh says: Its how the world keeps hanging.

Aramara shrugged softly, blinking her eyes, "I try only to be honest. I was honest with you before... I gave you a warning and you did not listen."

Travosh says: Seemed to have worked out just fine.

Aramara spotted Teeleh coming down the stairs, "has it now?"

Teeleh dusted something off of his shoulder distastefully. Letting the lint-esq debris fall to the ground at his feet, he glanced at Travosh and Aramara, nodded to each, and then continued walking.

Travosh says: Well nobody else is strung up

Aramara watched Teeleh pass by with scrutiny and waited for him to be out of hearing distance before addressing Travosh once more, "I only hope you are ready and willing to make up for your mistake. Have you seen that girl Evirea around?'

Travosh says: Haven't seen her as of late, and if more idiots come around I've got all the fire in the world for them.

Aramara sent Travosh a nod, a simple symbol of understanding, "keep your fire stoked Travosh, we may need it soon enough."

Travosh says: It always is.
Travosh says: After all, can't be too prepared for your tentacled horror and years of blackness

Aramara shook her head and turned, facing the plaza and the direction the extravagantly dressed elf made off to, "no... no you can't.." she said absently

Travosh says: He catch your eye then?

Aramara crossed her arms over her chest and they come to rest on top of her belly, "Yes... I think it'd be smart to keep an eye on him. I sensed the darkness in him last night."

Travosh says: Oh you sense the darkness in everybody.
Travosh says: Its part of being insane you see.

Aramara shook her head, her tone of voice saddened by his statement, "That's not true.... I've tried... my entire life to love as Xiosia loves, to see the light within everyone.... even you."

Travosh shrugged. "And every other day its a new tide of blackness washing over us."

Aramara nodded and looked over her shoulder at Travosh, "That's it you see... the light is within... the darkness comes from without. It can cover you completely if you let it, but deep down, in your core, there will always be the light."

Travosh says: Sounds like the ravings of a mad person to me.
Travosh says: Probably because I’ve heard lunatics say it.
Travosh says: Right as they carve through somebodies stomach looking for it.

Aramara turned her head back to the plaza, stating firmly, "I'm not going to carve through anyone's stomach..."

Travosh says: Tell that to your sister.

Aramara hung her head for a moment, her eyes closed, before lifting it again in determination, simply walking away from Travosh without any further communication.

Travosh chuckled "The liars always hate that one.”

Teeleh was reading something by the fiery light of the torches, fingers trailing sentences lovingly, a haze present in his eyes. Hearing footsteps approaching, however, he turned, slapping the book shut audibly and sliding it into some compartment between shirt and cloak. He fixed Aramara with what was a surprisingly impassive stare. Waiting for the impending threats of 'I'm going to bring you to your knees,' or at least, what he presumed will pour from her muzzle.

Aramara marched up to Teeleh, her head held high in confidence until she reached a comfortable distance behind him. After he turned to face her she folds her paws together and bowed her head, still treating him with the same dignity and politeness she did everyone else, the fear she displayed the night before apparently gone. "I know who you are..." she began, "...and i know you know who I am... so we don't have to go through those formalities... I only wish to speak to you and offer a warning, if i may."

Teeleh pulled his long-fingered hands back into his robes, his jewels shimmering in the faintly cast fire's light, his eyes reflecting their livid intensity. Yet strangely there was neither anger, nor fear, evident upon his face. It was smooth as an untouched canvas, and nearly as pale, though that could merely be a trick of the fading crystalshine. If anything, the man looked intrigued by this heavily pregnant woman, bearing an omen and signs of respect rather than the pitchforks and torches he had been so readily prepared for. There's a silence, and then slowly, with a grace and dignity to parallel her own, Teeleh bent his torso and returned her bow to her, though his body was indistinguishable as the abundant fabric of his cloak covered it inadvertently. He straightened, and merely watched her.

Aramara blinked once, licked her nose and continued, "You should leave... If you value your life and your continued existence, you should leave. Go back to whereever it is you came from. Eventually they will catch on, and when they do, they won't be as easily to forgive as I. .." She blinked again and hung her head in a prolonged bow, a diminutive gesture, "I do apologize for my behavior last night... I was caught off guard. I have no reason to fear you."

Teeleh's face cracked. It wasn't a smile, was like a fissure in a timeless, expertly constructed mask. The man was shocked. He had the dignity not to let his jaw drop, but his lips were parted slightly, and the whites of his eyes were slightly more visible than was natural. This was a passing state of being for him; he collected himself with the ease of snapping two fingers together. And once he'd regained that control, the elf began to walk towards Aramara, gait oddly not threatening, merely slow and soundless against the cobbles at his feet. His left arm slipped back out and he cast his cloak to the side, the fabric rippling like an artificial waterfall over his shoulder. Graciously, he offered the akkaio his arm. "Perhaps you would be wiling to speak with me further on this matter in a more appropriate location?" It wasn't a veiled threat or a command. It appeared to be nothing more than honest offer and inquiry.

Masaro scratched his left ear as he walked up to the two, giving a slight nod to the one he knows

Aramara caught sight of Masaro and nodded in his direction, an attempt to reassure him. Her gaze lingered on the masked kore, her eyes narrow slightly as if she's searching him for something, but she wasn't one to let Teeleh's gesture hang for too long and she took up his arm with a polite smile, "Yes... that will be fine." As they parted she cast one last look at Masaro over her shoulder.

Teeleh managed this time to contain his shock. In its place was a pleasant smile, amiable in every way and from every angle. He held his arm at the appropriate degree to give the expecting woman his support, before he began to walk towards whatever destination he had chosen, oddly not looking back at the kore observing them as he does, as though not to invoke any suspicion.

Teeleh curled his legs in and seats himself upon the fountain, watching the spray from its spout silently. "I figured this place might put you more at ease." His lips twitched and his glance flitted towards the Xiosian amulet on the fenki's neck. "Your goddess can strike me dead in the case of an emergency, I presume her power is most potent here."

Aramara eventually shuffled up onto the edge of the pool, slowly kneeling down beside it with an audible grunt. She dipped her paw in the water as she said, "Indeed," drawing it out and lifting it to her mouth for a sip. "I know not your exact purpose coming here... but I know what brought you.... your taint of death sullies this most sacred place, but you can be cleaned of it if you wish."

Teeleh laughed. It wasn't a bitter laugh, or a mocking one, it was merely one of pure amusement. "My dear, dear fenki. What you see as taint is a far more complicated circumstance. But be at ease. I will give you one statement to lay your mind to rest. Upon my oath," the elf leaned forward and dipped the tip of one finger into the sacred water, a grimace flashing and then dissipating on his face. He brought the fingertip to his brow, and pressed it in an odd gesture directly upon its center. "No more shall die from me. Not truly."

Aramara watched Teeleh's odd act of self anointment with a telltale curious tilt of her head. His words though had her looking into the waters in solemn contemplation, "True death... is not something to fear. It is a release from fear... only in life can there be fear and pain..." Her words were distant and familiar to anyone who knows her sister well. She placed her paws over her belly and looked down upon it, her solemn expression remaining, "I'm about to bring new life into this world... I can not allow it to be a world consumed in such darkness. Is that what you wish? To paint the world in fear?"

Teeleh rubbed his damp fingers together slowly, in tight, circular motions. His skin began to emit a stream of white smoke, and rather than be concerned, he rather appeared curious about this strange occurrence. He wiped a sleeve across his brows to prevent a similar event occurring there, but already his fingers were bright red, as though he touched a harmful ivy. "Paint it in fear? No. Not precisely. What I want is a long, complicated story, miss Aramara. I'm no deranged serial killer...though I suppose that his creation was partially my doing. I'm aware of who died. I am glad none of them had family." The healthy palm of his opposite hand passed over the water-singed joints, and he gave a slight wince and a hiss. "As for the release of death...once I have contrived what I need, then I will allow myself to die." Dreamily he peered across the water. "There is nothing more for me after my goals are complete."

Aramara closed her eyes and bowed her head, and thus failing to take notice of the reaction between the waters of the sacred pool and Teeleh's bodily makeup. Her voice was soft and sincere, as if she found and related to a deep nobility in his statement, "I understand completely... I myself know I have one last purpose to serve..." her eyes opened up to look upon her belly and the life contained within, "My time is drawing fast... but perhaps I can help you attain your goal, perhaps we can find a way for you to gain what you need without the suffering of others."

Teeleh continued to massage his fingers. At the akkaio's furthered statements, he glanced back up again and examined her, so full of life, pondering no doubt why she was speaking of such things. Eyes resting on her belly, he froze for a prolonged instant, considering something, weighing some sort of answer to his internal query. But that moment passed, and he replied with a cool tone, "I'm afraid it will take some suffering. There is simply no way to avoid it. But in the end it will be no different than their usual daily lives. They'll be free to get up. And they'll move on."

Aramara closed her eyes again, turning her head slightly to the waters and away from Teeleh. Her demeanor was placid, accepting, but when her eyes opened it was apparent the wheels in her head were turning, "I could tell them, you know... I could tell them all... they may not believe me but some may, and the result won't be pleasant for you. You will meet your end without attaining your goal. But I won't... I do not possess such cruelty.... a balance must be preserved, and the way you speak of it, it will be..." She turned to look at teeleh fully, her brow furrowed in perplexion, her head tilted askew, "but why... why do I sense only darkness from you? Where is the light?"

Teeleh didn't appear to be fazed by the beginnings of a threat, and certainly seemed less so as the fenki continued with her statement. Reaching down towards his booted foot, he removed the supple, custom-made leather and slowly lowered his naked skin into the fountain. Hissing and bubbling resulted, and the elf's face twitched, his eyes tightening and his skin flushing with a faint, sickly green. Enough pain to instill nausea. He endured it for a full thirty seconds, before he jerked his foot back out noiselessly, letting the ruddy, bleeding flesh hover just over the water's surface. His smile suggested he found it funny. The sorrow in his eyes stated this is not truly the case. Turning his head back to the woman, he inquired with a bluntness that was startling, "What makes you so certain there is any?"
 
Aramara's eyes were wide, and if an orange furred akkaio fenki could look green, she certainly did as she stared at Teeleh's foot and the reaction it undertook. She gulped and looked him in the eye, trying to keep the suddenly growing fear at bay. The only weapons she had against it were a lifetime of training in the ways of Xiosia, love and understanding, empathy and compassion. Still, she stammered, "What... what exactly are you after?"

Teeleh reached a hand up towards his hair, fingers sorting through the smooth and flawless strands, all to aware of the waves of fear wafting towards him from the akkaio. His left hand was hidden in his cloak, but it shifted, causing the fabric to bulge for a moment before settling again. There was the faintest of glows, but other than that, nothing happened. Teeleh was thinking, as though having difficulty forming the words he wished to speak, difficulty trying to deduce precisely what he could relay without giving everything over to the woman. Finally, his free hand escaping the confines of his robes and touching his chest, only to fly outwards in a skyward gesture, the elf said simply, "Life."

Aramara's gaze followed Teeleh's gesture upward but then returned quickly to the elf, her eyes still wide as she realized the source of her fear and unease, she simply did not understand what sort of creature or construct sat before her. She stood to her feet, a movement made awkward and clumsy by her girth and the weight she carried, but after she made it she stood with a regal poise. Again she subdued her fear and bowed her head respectfully to the Dermorian, "I think... I think I understand now.... what you are after and how you wish to obtain it.... I only ask that you... be honest with your approach. If people knew... that your only wish is for life, they may help you willingly. You won't have to... take it from them by force."

Dannae says: Hi Ara. I saw you walk past when I was with that group at the plaza fountain

Dannae says: Dharah was with me

Teeleh did not look at Aramara as she spoke. His hand hovered in space for a moment, and then drew downwards as he pulled on his boot. His flesh was already knitting together even as he did this, healing over the gaping wounds and lesions left by the water. There was surely pain, agitation at the rubbing from the still-healing injuries. But he didn't even have the grace to limp as he hopped down the small step separating him from the fenki. There was no malice in the words he spoke, despite his cadence, which was considerably cold. His face showed a strange form of what most surely must be pity. "Poor, poor akkaio. So young. So young and ready to die, still believing in the delusion that there is so much selfless goodness in the lives of others." No mockery edged his tone, and as he finished the statement, he whispered quietly, "I thank you for your time and your words, miss Aramara." Teeleh reached out his hands, meaning to grasp her paw, and bring it up towards his lips to graze the tips of her knuckles.

Dannae stopped speechless in her tracks observing the actions of Teeleh

Aramara turned to Dannae, a little shocked as Teeleh took her paw. Her arm remained limp in his gentle grasp and she didn't seem aware of it until the reverent kiss. She bowed her head again to the elf before withdrawing her paw, "Xiosia's blessings upon you sir..." it was then she realized she did not know his proper name.

Dannae glanced toward Estaga as she approached and offered a smile

Estaga knelt near Dannae

Dannae backed away leaving the two more privacy feeling she'd interrupted and turned to Estaga, "Nice to see you again so soon"

Estaga says: thank you Mistress

Dannae says: I'd preferred to have spoken more earlier, but with the crowd, it was difficult to say the least

Estaga nodded

Estaga says: How can I serve you?

Teeleh didn't notice Dannae, or for the moment, put off looking at her. His eyes remained pointed towards the ground, and he collected himself as he straightened his spine, his cool hands dropping back to his sides. He reacted to Aramara's bow by dipping his head with respect, and he jumped down from the fountain, moving with swift motions out of the garden.

Dannae glanced once more quickly toward Aramara and Teeleh before setting eyes on Estaga and offering a hand to help the dermorian stand, "Please, come and speak with me by the tree?"

Estaga knelt by the tree bows her head and said short prayer

Dannae bowed her head deeply toward the tree respectfully before taking a seat in the grass

Aramara's eyes followed Teeleh momentarily before drawing her attention to Dannae and Estaga. She lowered herself carefully from the fountains edge and followed the tow towards the tree, finding herself relieved a bit to be in the presence of the sacred effigy and away from the dark haired Dermorian.

Estaga looks toward Dannae, Dharah has spoken of me to you?

Dannae smiled at Estaga once more before tentatively speaking, "Um... so... sister Dharah seems to have taken a liking to you"

Estaga blushes

Aramara bowed her head, "My apologies Sister... I was only trying to... save a soul."

[Mariana Xiechai]

(19:43:05) Teeleh hums to himself quietly as he straightens his tunic, smoothing out all of its wrinkles. He makes his way towards the bench and considers it for a moment, perhaps trying to figure out if it would be comfortable enough for him.

(19:45:46) Shadowy figure lets out a harsh whisper from the ledge of the alley he is standing in, as spots Teeleh "Psssst! Teeleh, over here!" He allows his shadowed form to be visible for a moment, before retreating off the ledge and around a corner, making sure to linger enough as he moves to be easily spotted.

(19:46:33) Teeleh whirls around at the sound of his name, his brow furrowing. He takes a few steps forward, chasing what he saw as only a fleeting figure, his footsteps marred and stumbling with uncertainty. "Yes?" He calls out. "Hello? May I help you?"

(19:48:20) Shadowy calls out behind him "I bring word from the lower levels! But it is not safe, we must speak in private!" Before hastily moving down the street, and into another alley, behind a building

(19:50:22) Teeleh follows, the perfect image of the term 'gullible.' "Sir, I believe you may have the wrong person." Beyond the hood, he's not yet noticed the thief's cloaked form, and has no need to be frightened it would seem.

(19:53:04) Shadowy figure, as soon as Teeleh enters the alley behind him, launches himself onto the wall, using it to bolster his momentum, and push him over the elf, hopefully to the other side, blocking his exit.

(19:53:46) Teeleh whirls with the motion, eyes widening, and stumbles against the stone wall of the building to his left. He begins to back instinctively away as he notices, finally, the visage. "Now...now...wait just a moment. I don't want any trouble..."

(19:56:32) Shadowy figure scowls in a harsh voice, a near scream, if it were not whispered, allowing his orange tinted eyes to become visible through the shadows around his face, as he withdraws his sabres "Thats... A mighty fine... and heavy pouch of tria you carry with you.. And all those cumbersome jewels!" He offers a shrill but muted laugh "I would hate to see such a petite form overburdened by such weight, if trouble were to come." At this he brandishes his weapons threateningly towards Teeleh "Perhaps you should... allow me to... relieve you of them... for your saftey of course"

(19:59:07) Teeleh's face pales at the sight of the blade, but his eyes make a show of hardening as he grips his robes closer to his body and turns about, starting to flee. Of course the move of an idiot, this leaves his back exposed to stabbing, or his head exposed to a blunt blow, as the motion of his feet is unpracticed and very much less than instinctive or appropriately reactionary. He clearly has no fighting skill, but only an idiot would give up such copulent wealth so easily. Or perhaps that's simply the impression he hopes to leave...

(20:02:49) Shadowy figure flips his blade around in his hand, so the hilt is facing outwards, and with a snarl brings it smashing down towards where the spine and skull meet.
(20:03:14) Shadowy figure growls "they always try to run"

(20:04:28) Teeleh is struck easily by the blow. If the thief is incredibly observant, he will possibly note that the blow strikes on something that seems almost harder than the average spine, not eliciting the satisfying crunch that it might on others. However, it appears to have the desired effect as the man merely slumps down to the ground, totally out cold, his forehead suffering from a blow as well as it thunks against the cobbles.


(20:08:42) Shadowy figure gives a quick glance around, and a strange almost confused look at Teeleh as he crumples, before hastily moving to search the Dermorian for any valuable he may have on him

(20:11:43) Teeleh's clothing, now dusty from the streets, would be shown to hold various packages full of jewelry, all beautiful and of unparalleled craftsmanship. They jingle tellingly when touched, though they are in compartments of his cloak and some of the pockets might have to be torn open. There is also something knitted into his tunic, but this is far less noticeable, especially in the wake of such wealth.

(20:14:13) Shadowy figure quickly moves his hands up and down Teeleh almost as a lover feeling one long lost. Using his hands, not his eyes to search him. He removes any jewerly he finds, and stops momentarily, as he feels something hard, with seemingly no pocket nearby.

(20:16:00) Teeleh lets out a quiet groan, his eyes giving a slight flutter, long black lashes briefly exposing the irises beneath and the dilated pupils that might suggest damage from the recent head injuries. The compartment is quite clearly meant to keep something...perhaps more valuable concealed, but it's clear as well that Teeleh is coming to.

(20:17:44) Shadowy figure strips Teeleh of any jewels he finds, placing them into a pouch, then quickly withdraws a dagger, and moves to cut his tunic around the strange area, perhaps out of curiousity, perhaps thinking that there may be a more valuable prize, hidden under the so obvious wealth. As Teeleh begins to come to, he curses, and again flipping a weapon in his hand, attempts to knock him over the head with the hilt. though this seems almost half hearted, and even as he is doing so, he is preparing to grab the pouch and run

(20:19:38) Teeleh's head jerks to the side at the blow, but so does the rest of his body as he rolls over, the thing in his pocket dropping out into the dust, open to reveal that it's quite clearly nothing but a simple collection of merchant's business numbers. The man cowers unwittingly over it, putting his arms over his head protectively, and calling out to his accoster for mercy: "Please, please don't kill me! You have what you want! Please, I don't want to be lost in the labyrinth!"

(20:22:09) Shadowy figure hesitates almost immediately as his words. His eyes flicker over the book, and he reaches for it, though changes his mind. Plucking up the sack, he tosses a peice of parchement on the ground before Teeleh, aiming one last kick towards him, before feeling the alley hastily

(20:24:50) Teeleh grunts as the blow hits his side, flopping over limply to his left like a ragdoll. He lays there for a long period of time, listening to the thief's fleeing footsteps as they disappear. Once he can no longer hear them, he looks up with a smile curling his bruised face. He stands, and bends his back, popping it with a chilling nonchalance. Then, stooping, he picks up the note and reads it, laughing aloud as he also gathers his own book and looks at it lovingly. A haughty smirk curls his face, and he leans casually against the building as though all of the blows didn't do anything to him at all. "Took damn long enough," he mutters. "Hmhmhmhm....knight to pawn...."

[Mariana Xiechai]

[Time to roll out the jewelry! It'll be popping up throughout Hydlaa and other places as well. Instructions are found in the book, so I won't post them here. Have fun, kids!]

[Mariana Xiechai]

Gathering the help. It was always a necessary part of the entire process, so much easier than the menial task of deciding upon targets. Total randomization, after all, was always rather complicated and bothersome. He let fate decide, as it were, which minds he would pry the oh so necessary information out. From there it was a simple matter of triggering the emotional cascade, and reaping the benefits of those actions. Already he'd lobbed off a woman's hand and sent her home with a scathing note to her lover...that had earned him quite the sample of unrestricted rage, though he had to note that the man actually hid it quite well. And two accomplices were secured safely under his thumb, a powerful azure mage and another fellow, some odd, cloaked figure with delusions of political grandeur. But no matter. They would suit his purposes well, and when push came to shove, he could simply leave them in the open, hanging high and dry while he slithered back into the shadows. Loyalty was a thing for people who hadn't lived as long as he had, and who hadn't lost the pangs that came both from betraying and being betrayed.

Figure One

Teeleh stares at figure from behind his mask, his arms folded idly over his chest, the grendol nearby suddenly snapping out of its idiotic drooling state and dutifully stepping towards him to stand behind him in an ominous fashion. "Losing our way are we?" The man rasps out.

Figure chuckles darkly, and responds in a hoarse voice "It depends upon what I have found just now."

Teeleh studies his hands, looking down at where they are cupped around his left bicep, his eyes keen and sharp as they flick back up again. "Well, I'm not one for mincing words. What is it you are searching for?"

Figure chuckles again, his eyes glinting madly from between the strips of cloth "Their creator." he says simply, hoarsely

Teeleh heaves a heavy sigh, shaking his head to and fro, back and forth, slowly. "And what do you want with a necromancer, hm? I can assure you they really are a dime a dozen if you look closely enough."

Figure's eyes til glint madly, and he laughs, a horrid sound, like rocks falling down a pipe, and then says coldly "I have reason to believe you might get better. And if so..I would truly appreciate you joining my cause."

Teeleh's eyes glitter with amusement at figure, even behind his own ominous mask. He doesn't give a laugh, or posture. The massive hulk of rotting flesh standing behind him presumably is already doing that for him, though it does serve the purpose of being an imposing body guard. "I suppose that would depend on what your goals are, precisely. And how much joy they would bring you if they were accomplished."

Figure shakes his head slightly, and says with a cold chuckle "Everything." he says, wrapping up his entire life in one word

Teeleh turns around suddenly, the heel of his boot kicking up dust into the air as he clucks his tongue like a man disapproving of a child's answer. "Specifics, oh foreboding omen of a man. Specifics or we are finished here." The monstrosity follows along behind him, stumbling along.

Figure hoarsely speaks "You are in such a hurry, when I was just getting started."

Teeleh gives a strange-sounding chuckle, devoid of mirth. "Life is a hurry. I've got endless amounts of time, and no time at all. Be frank. What is it you want of me, and how does it benefit me, or I'll simply let you follow your nose to the exit."

Figure chuckles slightly "I'm planing on taking down the octarchy. In the process, removing some of the more powerful guilds with it. I would like an undead army to help with thees. You make powerful creatures indeed. Its benefit to you..success allows you to show your glorious creations, and no longer hide." his voice becomes more and more hoarse during his speech, and he stops, coughing dryly

Teeleh turns around fully, his voice pouring from his lips in a tired way, speaking like a man who's known far too many cycles, and who hasn't enjoyed the majority of them. "Governments rise and fall. Guilds, too, the natural ebb and flow of a timeless tide. Things will continue to move in this cycle until the day we perish, and only one thing remains certain: that, at some point, we all die, and fade away into the dust, and become one with legend or trampled underfoot and entirely disregarded. Dust to dust, as it were. So try again. Tell me, why is it that your plan is so different than what this man has seen countless times before? What makes you special, you who would follow my rotted corpse of a minion to these levels, just to find me? And what makes you think, with the power you think I possess, that you could coax me to agree to these terms just to glorify your name?"

Figure breathes in and out slowly, watching the Elf for a short time "Indeed, they do..but with the help of catalysts. And it would not to be to glorify my name, but yours. I could not claim to create such beings. And should I question you whether others before have followed them? And you must be slightly intrigued, else you would not have spoken to me at all..with as little time as you have." watches with his eyes, glinting cold and mad "and plus. I could be of equal use to you."


Teeleh stoops slightly, his frame lithe, but considerably tall. He lets his arm finally drop to his sides, silken black material giving a glimmer like moving water. "I've no interest in power at all, really. The gods have that, and look at what they do with it. Squander it. Waste it. Let petty little disagreements make them turn people into animals and don't lift a finger to help a dying city in its time of need. Power is corruption, really. I suppose you could say the same of myself, I'm no real exception, though I do like to believe that I am. You want power, I can see that in your eyes, and hilariously you have decided that I must be something capable of manipulation, but I will placate you so that you leave me in peace, and you can traipse off into your realm of insanity. Yes, I will raise bodies for you, when you have something more than a simple broad, over-arching goal, and more of a step by step process through which you hope to become the catalyst you crave to be."

Figure quietly speaks, his entire demeanor changing slightly "Indeed, power..but not the kind most want. You are right. It does corrupt. But, what is in place right now is truly not what we need. We need a system of order, one that will deal with problems, not postpone them...And I can tell you my plans. You..I.."he suddenly faults for words "I know my better." he forces out quietly

Teeleh's eyes give the same glitter as he observes the elf's struggling. He begins to suddenly walk towards him, clothing ashimmer, stride long and slow, gracefully poised even as it kicks up the dust about his feet. "It failed you, somehow. The government. So really it all comes down to revenge, the ultimate catalyst, the thing that drives man and animal to acts of obscene madness. Don't lie to these eyes, or to me. Don't dance around this proverbial bush. You cannot win with me that way, tyke." He's past figure now, walking gradually enough to be easily followed. "I'm better to none and superior to all."

Figure quietly follows behind Teeleh, and speaks quietly "I am not mad. I just know when enough is enough. my plans, however....there is a collective, a group who thinks they can overthrow the Octarchy themselves. And there's an alliance, who is preparing to stop them. If enough on both sides become unable to fight, the alliance cannot defend the octarch, and the collective cannot maintain it. Thus, it is within grasp."

Teeleh turns slightly to peer at figure, though he hardly seems intrigued by his plans. "Politics hold no interest for me. I had my fill of them long, long ago, them and their convoluted ways, their tinged and corrupted pasts. My patience for it wore thin with the last stroke of a gavel sentencing the wrong man to death. Oh, no. This does not intrigue me. But as I stated, I will raise my dead for you, but in return I will call upon you when I need of you, and you will do as you are told to do. Is this a bargain, or is it not?"

Figure breathes slowly, and his eyes peer at the man above him "My plan is to remove the corruption." and then he nods "I can do this. Despite me not knowing what it is you will have me do."

Teeleh gives a slight chuckle. "Ah, but that is the fun of things. You've told all of yourself, yet you know nothing of me. I do wonder what, in that head of yours, you ponder me to be?"

Figure grunts, and says "I tried at the start to manipulate you. I do it to others, just as you are to me. I know who I can and cannot succeed with. If I want your help, you need to know what you are committing to."

Teeleh spreads his arms in a vague, shrugging sort of gesture. "I've put myself on the lines before, though over the eons I've learned that it is wiser to remain concealed on more ways than one. I've been truthful. I've no need to overthrow any government, my goals are higher, even loftier. What I will accomplish shall change the course of history forever. But such things you need not trouble your cracked mind with." Amusement once more forges to the surface as he adds, "Now. Can you find your way out. Or shall I have to lead you?"

Figure narrows his eyes, in what could almost be seen as disappointment "no, I can manage." and he turns around to leave, takes a step, and quietly says "I hope your plans at immortality work. You will need it once I am done." and he strides off, his tattered cloak no longer held close

[Mariana Xiechai]

Figure Two

Teeleh attempts to use the bracelet to access your mind. It's a rather subtle presence, ghosting over rather than blatant or intrusive, and rather anonymously constructed, a mere thread of thought connecting it to a small, translucent orb he holds in the cusp of his palms.

Figure actually doesn't try to resist and allows the mind to enter...though if he is smart he may sense something isn't right.

Teeleh notices the lack of resistance. It could mean he's been undetected, or it could mean something else. Fingers still curled around the orb, he leans back against the rough wood of the door behind him, and then probes slightly more, sliding over memories and thoughts and seeking out anything that might lead to the information he seeks: A great fear, or a deep desire.

Figure waits until he is far enough into her mind, then with a wicked grin on her face she makes sure others around her cannot see, she springs the trap. With her full azure magic she uses her mind as a steel trap, surrounding him so he cannot escape. Her goal isn't to hurt him or disable him though so there is no pain or actual attack. Instead she puts up powerful barriers he will have to try to break through.

Teeleh doesn't even seem to be terribly concerned about this turn of events, and there's an indication something similar to this has happened before. His presence is simply a wisp, a seemingly weak thing, perhaps because it's been mostly fabricated by something other than powerful magic. He hasn't personally invested, as it were. Amidst the trap, he touches idly at the walls, and then merely settles himself in the midst of it, some indecipherable collection of wisps and undulating waves of white, misty cloud. "That wasn't very nice," he says, the voice containing a quality both high and low, gender-neutral.

Figure laughs lightly in her mind "Sneaking into another mind isn't either. If I were you I would explain yourself before I begin either tearing what part of you mind is here into pieces or track whatever you used to find me back to the source, then have fun with your physical body as well."

Teeleh continues to fail to be concerned. There's something eerie about the calm he's exuding. He even seems borderline apathetic, as though he has nothing much invested in this endeavor at all. "Oh, curiosities and such. I'm afraid not much ripping can be gleaned from this...it's mostly an illusion. I could cut it off if I wanted to. I'm not much of a mage, myself. But this seems to work quite well despite that." He doesn't give indication of what 'this' is. He just drifts idly around the bars of his new prison. Fingers form out of the cloud and tap-tap lightly against the fabricated metal, but nothing else is decipherable.

Figure isn't necessarily impressed with the magic used since it seems not very powerful but she does like his courage and calmness. "So.....who are you? If you are curious about me I am the same of you."

Teeleh shifts, and though it's just a blob of slightly coagulated water droplets, it would appear the top half of the illusion is tilting its head at Figure. "Who am I?" He asks, and there's a strange echo to the words. "I am...old," he says. "I am...tired." The fingers slide along the bars, leaving damp trails. "I am...weak, and I am strong."

"Sounds the same as me...." Figure sends Teeleh a number of mostly incomprehensible images but one thing stands out he can see from them all. He can sense in the images the age of the amorphous figure in them who's face always changes. Apparently it is of Figure herself through different times of her life. Seems she is very old for a klyros, in fact far too old for it to be natural.

Teeleh watches this with a certain amount of interest, not unlike someone who is accustomed to examining the same kind of insect over and over again, and suddenly has found a vibrant luna moth. The form flickers at the images, as though the connection is weak enough that their barrage makes him fluctuate, and in reality Teeleh leans back with a mild version of a frown marring his lips, tap-tapping at the orb with a soft tinkering sound. He replies, "Old." He doubles back with a flash of images that are even less comprehensible, as though seen from the first person, the flash of hand or sword the only things seen of the main character. The rest unfolds as such: The hands fighting wars, writing papers, passing through portals, claiming lives and saving them in equal parts. The scenes are vast and nearly endless, and they pour out continually, like a flow of water uncorked.

"Hmmm interesting to meet another similar to me. I wish to know more about you...will you make it easy or challenging for me?"

Teeleh seems to find this amusing somehow, and his aura's color changes from muted gray to a brighter, tinged-orange hue. "Tell me what it is you most desire," he says, and the inflection in his voice.
 
"Hmmm....used to be people to play with. Now I am not so sure anymore. I am currently working with a group that I feel a part of. At least in this way I feel like the things I do have a purpose that isn't all bad."

Teeleh seems to consider this, again, his form drifting lazily over the bars. "Play," he repeats, as though this is the only relevant thing he noticed. "Play," he repeats. "Pain is...entertainment?" The voice holds no judgment, just subtle curiosity.

"It was entertainment before.....now not as much."

 "Now it is not entertaining? Why not? Guilt...or have you moved on to more purposeful hobbies?"

Figure sighs and Teeleh can sense the sigh echoing through Figure's mind "Guilt that was not my own. I consumed a person and he gave me his guild....so now I am changed."

Teeleh ponders this for a few moments, considering the information, weighing it. "I see. So you can no longer carry out the acts that brought you joy before...yet, joy you could still glean...if you were not the one committing?"

Figure ponders that statement for a moment "I do not get joy the same from hurting people anymore but I still can have fun playing with them to cause trouble. I had not thought finding job in others doing it."

Teeleh asks a final question, again pushing at the bars, as though trying to gently slip through them as a fish might through a dam. "And tell me, what was it you always wanted to get from the pain? The rage? The fear? The sorrow? The chaos?"

Figure laughs lightly "Amusement for me and control of others. But I did serve a higher cause as well...one I will not tell others about for fear of reprisals."

Teeleh continues to leak steadily from the bars, his presence still a wavering thing, weak, mostly uninteresting and nonthreatening. It makes a show of peering up, its "head" faceless, and asks, "I see. Perhaps, then, I can bring some joy for the both of us." There's a pause, and it asks, "May I go, now?"

Figure nods "I would like to meet you. Maybe we can work together. But yes you can go..." with those last words she releases him but he can sense her mind ready to smash down on him again if he tries to read anything else there.

Teeleh peers at the exit, and begins walking towards it. But the instant before he vanishes, he sends back a fleeting image, yet stark enough and clear enough to be understood: The Burial Well, its mouth stoney face solemn, its mouth held open in a forever voiceless cry.

><><><><><

Figure walks towards the sitting figure, the shadows in the cave seeming to come to life. The closer she gets the more ominous and threatening them seem.

Teeleh is carefully carving on a piece of wood, a simple, bright, well kept knife slowly chipping away at the bark to create a smoother, paler surface. He looks up slowly, green eyes shifting ever so slightly to peer directly at Figure, as though he can see her in the near-darkness. The shadows don't seem to bother him. He's cloaked in them, seems to blend with them as though he's perfectly at home. After a few moments of casual observation, he merely looks down again, the only sound the chip-chipping of the wood.

"So we meet in person."

Teeleh dusts some of the woodchips off of his black pants, sliding down the rock with the knife still in his hands. It's a tiny thing, nothing particularly threatening, and he lands with the smallest puff of dirt, light and nimble on his feet. Oddly enough his clothing seems to remain unchanged by this, clean as before, and he quickly stows the knife away with a flick of his fingers. "Hello," he says, simply.

Figure observes him with a smile on her face. It is hard to tell whether that smile is malicious or innocent but as she takes a step forward. "Hmm such a nice quiet place to play with a toy. No one to hear a thing."

Teeleh doesn't seem terribly concerned about this statement, nor about the woman's approach. "Toy?" He repeats, the word echoing along the roof, and back down again, seemingly magnified despite its originally quiet nature. He stands idle, simple, not even appearing to be terribly impressive in build or posture.

"Hmm or do you have something else in mind?"

Teeleh tilts his head in the opposite direction. Somewhere in the distance, a rustling is heard, a shuffle and a soft rasping of claws skidding across stone. In another location a similar sound is heard, feet scuffing the floor quietly, tracing the stone. In the darkness things can be seen behind him, darting about, their forms amorphous and undecipherable as of yet. "I've no intention of harming you, Figure," he answers, his voice hollow and without inflection. "I thought perhaps we could talk. Can we not speak cordially? We need not be animalistic."

Figure nods "Talk is good. I don't find the same fun in destroying minds as I used too. Or making puppets do my bidding."

Teeleh carefully folds his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing in thought, careful deliberation. "You are a powerful mage," he says. Not a question, merely a statement of fact. "Who enjoys pain, but can no longer cause such alone. Perhaps the idea of letting someone else tie the finishing knot on such things would bring you pleasure."

Figure says: "I could see the enjoyment is such an endeavor indeed. Maybe it would also help to kill this....emotion." She says the last word as if it's a curse word that completely disgusts her.

Teeleh looks at Figure with cold eyes, cold, chillingly green eyes, no remnant of life in the coloration. "Then you've not yet been alive long enough to feel True Cold," he murmurs, quietly. "But no matter. You'll feel it, in time. It'll numb you again. But emotion is a powerful thing. To use against. To use for. It's tangible, in a way. Or literally. Depends on circumstance." He draws a breath, and then raises one brow below the mask. "I wonder how well you can retrieve information from a mind?"

Figure laughs lightly "I know about that cold and about using emotions as tools to cause fear or other things you want. Maybe soon I will feel it again rather then this pathetic guild. And yes I am very good at drawing information from people. It is one of my specialties actually. Using that information against them."

Teeleh continues to gaze at the figure' face, his own expression inscrutable beneath the blackness of his mask. "So you know how to manipulate. Good. Then perhaps we can create a mutually beneficial circumstance. You don't have to hurt anyone, and feel no guilt, if you draw information from them and offer it to me. And I can cause the pain, to give you joy from it, knowing that you aided in its generation. It would be a simple thing for you, to get what it is I need."

Figure nods "Hmm that does sound appealing. And I didn't say I couldn't do anything to them at all. I do still love to place compulsions that control them...just nothing to bad."

Teeleh shrugs slightly. "Pain in a physical sense is fleeting and easily healed with the flick of a wrist. But to leave an emotional scar, with the knowledge that events are at least in part because of their own free will and volition, their actions. Ah, this is the stuff of a broken spirit."

Figure nods and sighs almost wistfully "And I was once so good at it....maybe will be again." She shakes her head, seemingly in an attempt to chase away those thoughts. "So who is this person? Or is it more then one?"

Teeleh answers with the odd ring of honesty in his voice, "I've no personal vendetta. I've no reason to inflict such harm. None that most would understand. Unlike you I get no pleasure from it. Mine is apathy, and nothing more. But inflict it I must, and shall. If you aid me in this endeavor, in time, perhaps you will relearn your won penchant for such things. Perhaps that is enough for such an agreement to be struck."

Figure remains silent for a moment as if coming to a decision before speaking again. "Yes....yes I think this is the path I wish to choose. I am curious though if you have no vested interest in causing suffering why do it then? What is your goal?"

Teeleh slowly dips his head forward, and answers cryptically, "A lofty one to be certain. One that would not serve your own purposes...but one that will not interfere with them either. Rest assured, they will mesh well enough."

Figure motions behind him "Do whatever those things behind you have anything to do with it?"

Teeleh turns his head slightly, his eyes roving to their corners as the creatures finally emerge from the shadows. They simply meander towards him, their flesh rotted, their eyes missing save for a few chords of connective tissue. Green glows from the hollow sockets, as well as on the tips of Teeleh's fingers. He turns back again, and says, "In a way. And in another way, no. Not really. But perhaps that revelation is for another time. I've kept you long enough."

Figure asks again patiently "So who is it that I am to glean information from?"

Teeleh waves his hand vaguely. "Anyone you wish. Anyone. Everyone. I've no qualms and no prejudice. I leave that within your jurisdiction."

"And the information?"

Teeleh makes another gesture with his arm, sweeping it out. "Give it to me. From there I can take it, and you can witness the evidence of the pain instilled throughout the city."

"So you do not care what the information is either?"

Teeleh sighs quietly. "The same I attempted to glean from you. The greatest desire, or a deepest fear. I suppose you would be interested in only the latter, but I need both. A fair trade, I'd wager. Can you do this discreetly?"

Figure nods "Yes of course. I will go in search of my first target then."

Teeleh dips himself forward in a slowly, graceful bow. "Fleet of foot and best of luck."

Figure smirks as she turns to leave "You as well."

Figure looks back as she remembers something "And how to contact you?"

Teeleh does nothing to stop the figure, a contemplative look on his face as he turns away, making to march onto the shadows. He turns his head slightly, and replies, "Leave this by the mouth of the well, and I will know that you wish to meet with me." He turns, walks slightly closer, and holds it out on the tips of his fingers.

Figure nods and slowly walks away, not looking back

[Mariana Xiechai]

It's been quite a while since I updated this, but I would like to make a call out!

Anyone that has a "thief" character, a pickpocket, a scoundral or ne'er do well, there's a part I need filled by such a "villain!" If you'd message me, or post here, I'd be most grateful, and give details then.

Thanks in advance!