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Zaire

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Zaire frowned, looking over at Houri like a puppy tied to a post that couldn’t go off and play with it’s favorite toy. Regardless, she was right. While Delilah and Vasha seemed intent on helping the orc, Zaire wondered if maybe this could be a good way to learn more about the doll maker and all the rumors.

He just couldn’t imagine the doll maker going after a Yakaz orc. Even the young ones should be massive giants in their own rights, full of muscles and rage and whatever else made an orc… well, an orc.

Fine, we’ll help this guy out and then find you all back at the inn.” Zaire mumbled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and slouching even more than usual. Was he pouting? Sure, despite being an initiate and a soon to be weapon for Vel Anir, he was still a teen.

You heard her, the blonde needs something to smell.” He prompted, causing the Yakaz orc to brighten up immensely.

“Oh thank you, thank you,” they gushed and immediately began to dig into their pockets frantically. “Ah, this! Will this work?” They asked, pulling out their money bag. “He’s carried this around a few times. If it won’t work we’ll need to go back to my home…”

Vasha Drurcius Delilah Bryndel
 
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There was a faint cracking and tearing noise coming from beneath Vasha's cloak now, and with a nod, the hooded initiate reached out with a hand now covered with scales and tipped with dark claws to take the bag and hold it close to her face for a moment. Nostrils flared and her tongue flickered out as she breathed deep, trying to split the scent of the parent away from the child, and then passed the bag back. Knowing the scent of the parent would be useful, however, to help her avoid following their likely dozens of trails through the city when they had tried searching for him.

"I can thrack him somewha' as I am righ' now, bu' if we wanth this tho be fasth, we may thraw some atthen'ion." Vasha murmured lowly toward Zaire. She was definetly taller now- close to six feet. "Especially since I have to thry and thecipher his scen' from thozens of others." With that, however, she raised her head to look to the orc. "Where was he las' seen?"

Zaire | Delilah Bryndel
 
Oh, this was definitely getting interesting. A display from the lizard? There was no way this wouldn't end terribly. The tiny girl's nigh-perpetual smirk widened slightly at the thought, and she finally spoke up again, her one eye glinting with violet malice as her dry voice cut through the air in tones luckily soft enough to remain within the ears of her fellow initiates.

"Draw some attention, eh? Go for it, lizard. Sooner this dollmaker knows we're 'ere, the sooner 'e can come lookin' for us." Delilah took a particularly long pull from the roll in her mouth, letting wisps of sickly-sweet lavender smoke plume out from the corners of her lips and circle around her head. The fumes were gradually beginning to gather around her in a translucent, swirling cloud, filling the air with a distinctively cloying, heady odor not unlike that of rotting fruit—the signature reek of dried witherbalm. That smell would cling irremovably to whatever it touched for days. "An' the sooner we can be outta this shithole, an' back to the other shithole back home."

Zaire | Vasha Drurcius
 
Zaire frowned at Vasha’s words, partly because he had to give extra thought to what she was possibly saying but also because after he figured out her lisping words that what she was saying wasn’t a good idea. Despite Dornoch being nothing like the overbearing xenophobic Vel Anir, their first and foremost goal was to complete the mission: finding the doll maker, dead or alive, and bringing back whatever twisted magic he was using to steal faces.

They had little information to go off of, and more importantly, Zael didn’t want the doll maker to know they were here. Would make finding them much harder, especially if they decided to stay low while dreadlord initiates were here. He was already that a group of six teenagers walking around freely was making such a commotion already— in truth, they all stuck out like a sore thumb.

No,” Zaire said firmly, glancing at Delilah with narrowed eyes. Of course, he’d be stuck with an instigator like Delilah and a… beast of a human like Vasha. Why couldn’t he have gone off with the cute girls like Marci and Houri and Lumen? “We keep a low-profile.” He paused and then added with more confidence than he felt, “I’m in charge until we get back with the others.” Yeah, there ya go, Zaire, asserting dominance despite being the shortest man in the academy!

The Yakaz orc looked between the three initiates and then rubbed the back of their neck. It seemed they were acting how kids always acted at this age; and it only made them think of their own son.

“He said he would be with a group of friends,” the orc began to explain, “they usually would spend time here when hungry. But if they weren’t hungry… well, I’m certain they went to Beak Ridge. It’s where all the kids go to have a bit of fun. But it’s been closed off since the kidnappings.” Zaire nodded. Just because something was closed didn’t mean that teenagers would stay away.

Where’s Beak Ridge?” He asked, and as the orc gave them instructions, Zaire looked to Vasha and Delilah. “We’ll try there first, see if you pick anything up along the way.” And without saying anything else, he began to stalk to Beak Ridge. When they were out of earshot from the orc, he whispered to the other initiates: “if we find him, great, if not, who cares? World is probably better with one less orc. We got a mission to complete.”

Vasha Drurcius Delilah Bryndel
 
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Broad shoulders rose for a moment and fell in a nonchalant shrug. If they cared so much about subtlety then sure, they could keep it. And getting no reaction out of her was the best way to annoy Delilah she'd come to learn. Vasha could take her own notes in the meantime with any stray scents.

Turning away from the orc, Vasha bit into the skewer that Lumen had given her earlier again, and with a jerk of her head ripped the meat off and swallowed it before pocketing the pointed stick. Lumen was right- it did taste good. She'd have to snag another one before they left.

As they strode away from the crowds and presumably toward 'Beak Ridge', Vasha couldn't help but snort softly at Zaire's comment. She remained silent however despite the implication of anyone caring about an orc. But if he wanted to play leader, then sure. Less stress for her to deal with. It was going to be fun to watch Zaire try and make Delilah do anything useful.
 
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We keep a low-profile.” He paused and then added with more confidence than he felt, “I’m in charge until we get back with the others.”

Oh, that was cute, he actually thought he had a say in what she decided to do. The tiny girl rolled the stick of witherbalm from one side of her mouth to the other, that infuriating smirk twisting itself across her lips to accommodate it. She didn't even bother saying anything in response to Zaire's claim to authority—her derisive expression alone said more than enough as she turned away slightly, taking another long puff and expelling yet more of the sickly-sweet fumes. To all appearances, she had more or less dismissed the others from her attention; but as directions to Beak Ridge were given, the younger Initiate internalized them with care and attentiveness belied entirely by her outwardly languid appearance.

When they were out of earshot from the orc, he whispered to the other initiates: “if we find him, great, if not, who cares? World is probably better with one less orc. We got a mission to complete.”

Oh, that she had to respond to. "Who cares, y'ask? Cert'ly seems like you do." The smirk briefly widened into something almost approaching a grin. "Or why'd'ya be protestin' an' harpin' on about it so much?"

Zaire | Vasha Drurcius
 
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He couldn’t help but to huff. Zaire saw both Vasha’s and Delilah’s face— sure they hadn’t outright rejected his words, but the only thing that was missing was a roll of their eyes and voicing their doubts in his ability to lead. How on Arethil did he get stuck with the two… two… two!!

I only care,” Zaire said, not turning his head to look back at Delilah. They were heading up a steep hill, causing all three of them to lean their head forward and hike their knees high up in the air. “Because it seems like the best lead for us in finding the Doll Maker.” His tone was exasperated, but whereas Vasha and Delilah had held back their eyerolls, Zaire freely did his.

Almost saw the back of his head with that one.

I’m just trying to warn us that we can’t worry about saving Rorik, if we do great, but our focus is the doll maker and getting some leads. Let’s beat Houri’s team.” Not that he wanted to beat Houri, but if he could impress her by getting to the Doll Maker first?

They crested up the final few steps of the hill. A park of sorts, although nothing neat and tidy like the ones in Vel Anir. Far more rustic and exotic, hedges were a bit unkept, like the trees around the edges but that only added to its appeal. As far as Zaire could tell, they were the only ones here. The lanterns hardly gave enough light, even with the sky covered in glittering stars and the alabaster moon.

So Vasha, what now?

Vasha Drurcius Delilah Bryndel
 
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"Having his scenth is all I nee'. I thon' care if ith is a corpse we are thracking. Fin'ing where the Tholl Maker brough' him is the goal. An' if we neeth tho waith for another kithnapping to happen..." Vasha shrugged. "Fresh scenth is betther than olth scenth." she commented as they looked around for a moment, her tone completely neutral.

"Thry to fin' any places tha' look like acthivi'y happeneth recenthly. I can then thrace any scenths." The girl sat down and worked to take her boots off. As Vasha stood, she let her body change further- the cloak rustling around her and her feet changing from rather small pale human ones to bone-white scaled reptilian claws.

This done, the apprentice Dreadlord wordlessly began to pace around the park, her jaws opening as she breathed deeply. Tongue flickering out in the still night air, anyone in front of her at that moment would have been privy to a rather horrifying visage of pearly fangs gleaming just under her hood.

Zaire Delilah Bryndel
 
I’m just trying to warn us that we can’t worry about saving Rorik, if we do great, but our focus is the doll maker and getting some leads. Let’s beat Houri’s team.

"Oh, so that's what's got your dick in a knot t'day, you're tryin'a look good." Her voice was like a wasp, buzzing ever closer about the head as it chose the perfect place to sting. Delilah tilted her head, indigo smoke eddying and swirling about her at the motion, her single eye and empty socket widening in mock sympathy. "Well, this might come as a shock, but some of us don't really care if you look cool for whoserface and whatsername."

As they finally arrived at the park, the tiny girl fell silent, the roll of witherbalm finally burning out. Carelessly, she tossed it over her shoulder to lie discarded on the ground behind them as Vasha and Zaire discussed back and forth.

Once Vasha had commanded full attention by going into Lizard Mode(TM), Delilah fell back from the others somewhat, lurking behind them at a distance, almost swallowed up by the gathering shadows of the evening. At this range, she was barely within easy earshot; certainly not close enough to come to the other's aid (or have them come to theirs) in the event of an immediate crisis.

Zaire | Vasha Drurcius
 
For the first time, Zaire was happy he could read lips. Just listening to Vasha would have put him in a serious disadvantage, filled with him trying to unsuccessfully piece her words together and that embarrassing moment to repeatedly ask ‘what?’ Or ‘can you repeat that again?’

Of course, he got distracted the moment Delilah mentioned the real reason why Zaire was showing more than his usual malaise to the mission they were on. He made sure to ignore her comment— he was a grower not a shower and his height had little to do with it!— and continued to just look at Vasha.

Fresh scent, okay, got it.” He said, shoving his hands back in his pockets before looking around. If he was a teenager, where would he hide? Probably a place that allowed him to hide and smoke a bit of grass without anyone noticing right away. Academy rooftops were perfect for such a thing. But this place had no rooftops. But there were some trees though, so he went off over to there.

Looking around the base of the trunk and the gnarled roots, but finding nothing particular. He sighed, long and weary. This was going to be a long night.

Vasha Drurcius Delilah Bryndel
 
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With Delilah and that noxious smoke finally not around, Vasha let out a sneeze, grunting a bit before finding relief from the stench. Fresh scent and a clear nose... now she had one of the two at least.

Tailing after Zaire a bit to be nearby if he found something, the cloaked girl scanned their surroundings warily. There was a lot of cover for things both good and bad here. She was surprised that the people that lived here didn't think to just trim the damn place. Maybe then half of the victims would still be around.

Pupils dilating and contracting, then dilating again, her tongue flicked out for a moment to catch the trace scents of small animals and a few things she couldn't quite interpret. Zaire sighed nearby, and she glanced his way briefly, but said nothing upon noting his slumped shoulders.

Where would a gang of normal kids hang out if they wanted to avoid attention...? Eyes narrowing in thought, Vasha tipped her head to one side and tried to look around for any smaller clearings at the edges of the main park. Her tongue flicked out again, and an uglier thought rose in her head. Where would she position herself, if she was hunting someone here?

...likely the same place.

"The fringes maybe?" she murmured lowly- choosing words that wouldn't trigger her lisp.
 
He glanced over at Vasha, eyebrows raising up in surprise. He could understand her even in her low voice— where was the lisp?

Zaire had little time to think much about her lisp when he tripped over one of the roots. He caught himself just in time, righting himself up as he placed a hand out onto a tree to help steady him. Sheepishly he looked over at Vasha, seeing if she had seen.

Vasha?” Zaire called out, looking around and seeing no one. When did all this mist get here? It was rolling in pale blue and gray waves that were somehow thick yet shallow at once. “Delilah?” He shouted, hearing nothing but the echo of his voice. He turned back around, began walking to where his classmates should have been.

Counting his steps, he stopped at thirty.

Oh fuck me.” Zaire cursed, groaning before sitting down. He plopped down, supine, and stared up at the gray mist still swirling around him. “It’s a fucking trap.” Because of course it was. They must have triggered something without knowing it. Had there been anything out of the ordinary? No matter how much Zaire thought about it, he couldn’t come up with anything.

Nothing seemed strange about the park.

The only thing he could do was wait for someone or something to break him out of this illusion. He could try himself, but Zaire wasn’t the most studious when it came to college magic. Knew a couple of spells here and there, but nothing strong enough to break a illusion like this.

So he may as well enjoy the moment and take a nap—

Zaire sat up, gooseflesh covering his arms. Straining his ears, he could hear it…

The sound of dogs.

Delilah Bryndel Vasha Drurcius
 
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In the span of a blink, Vasha paused, noticing a chill in the air. Head snapping around, tongue flickering, the girl realized too little, too late that a thick mist had rolled in. Where were the others?

Voices echoed in the trees, indistinct and muffled. Her scales started to itch, and prickled like a cat's spine. Vasha went dead silent, slowly turning her head side to side, and as the seconds passed, noticed a pattern in the swirling mist. It didn't react the same way natural mist would to the faint breeze, and it had come on far too suddenly. A trap of some kind- more than she had expected.

This wasn't just some petty killer stealing faces. They were dealing with a mage of a much higher caliber who was capable of disarming entire groups.

Now was not the time to hold back. If she got ambushed, anything short of the highest level of defense could spell her doom. Bones cracked and scales rattled as Vasha shifted- placing her hands on the ground as she felt her spine ripple and grow, her jaws lengthen and fill with sharp teeth, and her fingers dig into the soil and rock as they curved into talons harder than iron. A low groan of pain resonated through her lungs as her muscles and ligaments stretched to accommodate the change, before it finally faded and dulled.

She wasn't able to break this. She wasn't a mage in any sense of the usual term. But she had one tool that most mages did not: a strong sense of smell.

Vasha sifted carefully through her own training and recalled one of her combat magic classes. An illusionist relied on being able to deceive the perception of the victim, and drew upon their own perception to make their magic convincing. If the illusionist was human or even humanoid in nature, then perhaps Vasha would be able to bypass these tricks of vision and sound, and focus everything on her nose- something they were not able to match.

Inhaling slowly, and deeply, the silhouette of a beast close to thirty feet long began to prowl through the mist, head down and eyes closed as she tried to pinpoint Zaire's location. He had been the closest- so he had to be somewhere nearby...
 
It took Delilah far longer than she would ever outwardly admit to realize what was going on. The thick, blue-white mists of the mind that so swiftly encircled the others were for her but a distant wall of spectral smog; a fitting nighttime backdrop to the scene.

It wasn't until she glanced back ahead at the others—Zaire slumped limply against the roots of a tree, Vasha stumbling away into the night as if in a daze—that it finally registered on her that something was wrong.

"Well, shit."

Why the risk of illusion magic hadn't occurred to them, she hadn't the slightest idea; in hindsight, it explained far, far too much. She could feel it as well now that she was actually looking for it: a gentle chill; an encroaching haze of bleary delirium that lurked about the fringes of her mind, repeatedly advancing its probing tendrils before recoiling as if singed by the angry agony of the fire within.

This made things more complicated ... the entire point of proffering herself as bait by backing off so far from the other two had been to avoid getting them involved. After all, they'd only have gotten in the way.

On the flip side ...

... the dollmaker probably expected helpless victims. Slumbering children. Children that, in their slumber, would be easy to transport to a base of operations. And children that, thanks to their slumber, would likely not be watched with the greatest of attention upon arrival.

Perhaps her little plan need not be altered after all.

With the slightest smirk to herself, the devious little initiate made her way to the nearest tree and sat down against it comfortably, letting her frail body relax its perpetual tension as much as she was able and closing her one eye down to the narrowest slit, just barely enough to see. Illusionists always took forever to actually do anything; too used to illusions doing the work for them. Might as well make herself comfortable for the wait ...

Zaire | Vasha Drurcius
 
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