Private Tales A Day on the Port [CLOSED]

[Faurosk]

The mage's tense expression seemed to relax, if only slightly.

"Forgive the interruption, ma'am, but the enhancements on that little trinket feel old and potent; Let's just say that without a closer look, it may be prudent to avoid making contact. Especially for the, ah... 'Magically inclined'." His smile became a bit lopsided, with the left side of his face drawing up into an uneasy smirk. "And as far as breaking the wards on the amulet goes, well... I wouldn't have offered if I didn't think myself capable of the job."

His voice began to take on the more noble, academic tone he'd learned throughout his time spent studying, conveying the idea that he knows what he's talking. After all, nobility's nobility, even if rigor mortis should've set in long before he was born. As such, he straightened himself out and brought a fist softly to his chest, taking a shallow bow and saying a formal greeting in the ancient language of the Elves. Once he rose, however, he shifted his weight back onto one foot, striking up a more casual stance and crossing his arms across his diaphragm. "As for payment, well, I'll need to know what I'm getting myself into before I start naming prices. Anything you know would be much appreciated, but I'm sure we can discuss later."

 

[Rainie]

Just as they seemed to be coming to a deal, Rainie became aware they were being approached. She looked swiftly to the new comer, who turned out to be Faurosk. Gone was the mild, kind expression. He looked serious, and something seemed to crackle around him. He was clutching his staff again, and warned them in a low voice to stay away from the amulet the elven lady now held.

"If you could use some assistance in figuring out exactly what it is, well, today may just be your lucky day."

Rainie raised her eyebrows, satisfied that her inkling before was in fact correct. "You have magic?" She whispered wondrously. Glancing back at the elf, she saw the lady suddenly looked murderous. Rainie frowned, looking wide eyed between the two of them nervously. If there was going to be some kind of fight, she'd politely see herself out.

But the lady seemed to reign in her rage and offered to pay Faurosk to unlock the amulet's power. The wizard offered a respectful bow, and agreed to look more closely into the amulet, which he was clearly tentative about.

Before anyone could get too carried away, Rainie interjected, "Perhaps we can have this conversation somewhere more private? Were you going to say you're staying somewhere in town, my lady?" She thought for a moment, then added, "And since I am to be retrieving something for you, it would be apt to know your name so that I may find you again?" It wasn't meant to sound a question, but that was indeed what came out.

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

Hm. Perhaps the human wasn't as unrefined as the majority of his species. How odd, to find two of these examples within this filthy place. Although, Eilasandree had to admit that in the female's case it wasn't so much her manners that impressed the elf. Inclining her head towards the man, the elven noble makes to stand up, chair scraping as quietly as she could manae to get it to against the smooth wooden flooring. "Yes, you're quite right." She says towards Rainie. "And I suppose you are correct." Her hand comes up to lay daintily across the centre of her chest as red eyes glance between the two people watching her. "My name is Eilasandree Ival, of the ancient and most noble elven house Faerachon, last of my name." It was a greeting she had performed countless times before, smooth and polished, although she found herself putting a little more effort into appearing regal in front of the two before her.

"Please, follow me back towards my current residence, and I shall tell you everything I know." A lie, for sure, but not completely. She would tell the mage what she deemed he needed to know regarding the enchantment, and no more. As for the thief... she had an idea for someone of her talents. Not just anyone could find and steal this many valuable artefacts, and judging by the fact that she was keeping her undergarments within the same bag as said precious items, it was obvious she could stand to gain a little more in terms of comfort. Really the only issue she found would be what the mage, a job title that was notorious for its eccentricity, would ask for in recompense. With this in mind, the noble made to step out of the tavern and begin guiding them up town, striding with purpose.

 

[Faurosk]

Faurosk watched for a moment as the elven noble woman went for the door, eyes narrowing for just a split second before he broke away once more. He turned around and looked across the table of scattered wares, deciding to help Rainie pack by carefully and clearly shuffling the various letters and manuscripts into easily transported piles, making it abundantly clear that he isn't trying to pocket any of the merchandise. A wry smile toyed across his features, and he cast a wayward glance up to the charming bard.

"I don't 'have' magic, by the way," he stated plainly, shuffling a small pile of letters into a neat stack and holding it out to her. "I am magic." With a wink and a grin, he gave one last look to make sure everything had been gathered up before turning to jog after the noble woman who had nearly left them behind.

 

[Rainie]

Rainie sighed in relief when it was agreed they would leave and go somewhere more private. She stood and began gathering her belongings and goods, but paid attention to the lady when she introduced herself. Her hands were frozen midair, cradling Animation of Corpses.

Eilasandree Ival, of the ancient and most noble elven house Faerachon, introduced herself as the last of her name. Rainie nearly dropped the book in her hands. She cradled it to her chest instead and tried not to look too taken aback. Schooling her expression into something blank and respectful, she nodded and watched Eilasandree glide out of the tavern.

After a second, she turned back to her things and stared down at the wood grain of the table. The house of Faerachon had died out... decades ago? She was fairly certain.

There was a tap of paper and she saw a pair of large hands organizing her things for her. "I don't 'have' magic, by the way," said Faurosk. He offered a neat stack of letters to her, which she took with a vacant blink.

"I am magic," he said with a wink and a grin.

She smiled tremulously back. With a sudden burst of energy, she hoisted her bag on her shoulders and snatched up her bow and quiver. She hurried after the two of them, mind racing and face curiously blank.

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

Making her way through the streets with an inbuilt grace few humans could hope to match, Eilasandree did her best to make sure the two following her could keep up, adding an exaggerated sway of her hips to each step just to slow down a little. While she wanted nothing more than to leave this filthy place, it wouldn't do for her to lose the people she was supposed to be guiding. Glancing behind her occasionally, the elf made her way through the main streets, purple parasol set up and casting shade across her face as it protected her skin from the rays of the sun. Swaying around a cart as it noisily went by with only a small sound of displeasure, the banshee decided to wait for the other twq to catch up in full before continuing off again.

She refused to say anything at all regarding their business along the busy streets, not even when rough cobblestone and dark windows found themselves replaced by smooth stand and grand, opulent buildings on either side, each one more extravagant and larger than the last. It wasn't as beautiful as Fal'Addas, and stank of humanity's constant need for validation, but Eilasandree at least thought it was far better than where the common rabble was kept. All it took was a glance towards one of the guards manning the gate into high society to let them through ad not question about the two behind her, and soon thee group found themselves stopping outside one of the fancier buildings. A large mansion that could have easily taken up an entire block or two down in the slums reared up before them, made of polished oak and burnished with a variety of different floral artworks Windows were shown every few metres along both stories of the building, towering and almost as large as a man as they allowed sunlight to flood in.

Walking up the small staircase at the very front of the house, EIlasandree makes sure her guests were in position behind her before reaching one porcelain hand out of the shade to grab hold of a leaf shaped knocker. Bam, she knocks just once, before waiting. Soon after an aged human in a butlers uniform answered the door with a "Good evening Madam", turning to look at Rainie and the mage for a moment before giving them a soft smile and adding "and friends". Holding the door open as he steps back to allow the group through, Eilasandree simply gives the man a wordless nod, before almost hastily leading the group through the large, expansive rooms until opening he door to a particularly dim bedroom near the end of the house, where upon entry she lets out a sigh of relief and quickly tucks her parasol away. The room was dominated by a large king sized bed, and around it stood a couple of small drawers, a closet, and at the far end of the room entrance into a bathroom. "I apologise for the informal setting, but I prefer darker areas and this is simply more tolerable for me. " She says, sitting down upon the plush bed. "Once you're comfortable, feel free to talk."

 

[Faurosk]

Faurosk followed along quietly, though he gradually became less comfortable as they ascended further and further into the elitist territory of Elbion. He had intended to keep a low profile in town, knowing full well that an Allirian mage wouldn't be welcomed with terribly open arms. This trek into the land of high society, however, was anything but subtle. And such, his nose stayed pointed towards the ground, and he only looked to their increasingly wealthy passerby out of the corner of his eye.

He found himself wondering why exactly he'd chosen to follow the dangerous woman out of the bar in the first place. It wasn't for the pursuit of wealth, and he knew all too well how dangerous the Dark Arcane could be. He hated to admit it, but there was something about the entire situation that had him enraptured with interest. In the end, it was the pursuit of some proper conclusion that had brought him this far out of his comfort zone.

Besides, Rainie seemed at least marginally impressed by him, and what's the point of doing anything if not to seek validation from others? (Can I get an amen?)

And so it was that he followed through town, eventually passing the threshold into Eilasandree's current place of residence and making certain to politely thank the butler on his way in. He followed the banshee further into her living quarters, wondering only half guiltily how much all of this could possibly cost someone. When they got to the secluded bedroom, however, something about the darkness made his blood chill ever so slightly.

"You needn't worry, Madam. The extra space will not be a detriment, believe me." Without much further ado, he shrugged his knapsack off of his shoulder and set it at his feet. He then stood his staff up at his side, allowing its keen balance to keep itself standing. It was at that moment, too, that he decided to drop a transmutation spell he'd cast earlier that day, dispelling it a few hours earlier than it would decayed naturally; Immediately, the quilted clothing he wore began to glow a faint cerulean blue, growing and shifting along his body. By the time the clothes stopped giving off light, he was back in his traditional robes, newly unfurled from their alternate forms.

 

[Rainie]

Lorraina felt herself both tense and relax as they made their way uptown. She knew the territory from past experience, so she could easily hold her head high and look dispassionate yet alluring. It was just more effort to do so. The mage beside her didn't so much as raise his gaze from the cobbles their entire walk. Rainie kept her eyes on the graceful figure of their soon-to-be host, mind whirling.

The mansion itself was fairly large, and Rainie admired the stained glass windows for a moment. Once they were ushered in, she was a bit disappointed they wouldn't be going to a parlour or study. But once she realized they were convening in a bedroom, she almost smiled. Breathing in the stale air, she eyed the massive, undoubtedly comfortable bed with a bit of longing. Eilasandree had taken a seat there. Bemused, Rainie sat on the bench and began removing her artifacts from her bag once more.

There was a queer shift in the air. T'was very faint, and it wasn't quite sound, wasn't quite feeling. It still caused her to look up. Faurosk's clothes were changing, somehow. Changing shape, color, texture. His simple, common clothes were replaced by the silken blue robes of a mage.

She was just thinking to herself, how efficient, when she realized they looked a bit familiar. Actually, very familiar. She just couldn't place why, or from where. Faint bubbles of distant laughter popped up in her mind, a mere suggestion of a memory. Shaking her head, she stood up and brought Faurosk the book.

"Here," she murmured, brow furrowed. Now she was closer, she looked even harder at him. If she could just... "Are you originally from Alliria?" She tried. Just a shot in the dark.

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

Eilasandree watched with mild curiosity as the mage's transmutation was dispelled, impressed at the fact that she hadn't felt even the slightest hint of magic coming from the man, even when he had stood so close to her. That fact alone gave her he that he truly was capable of delivering upon his words, something that would speed up her plans by what she hoped would be a significant amount. Alliria was a good guess from Rainie, and the undead elf's ears twitched slightly as she listened and waited for the man's answer. Once he did, and her curiosity was satisfied, the banshee gives a small smile and recline a little more onto the bed. This was her quarters, after all, and if she was allowed to relax a little anywhere, it was here.

"Now that that has been cleared up," she begins, voice growing powerful and commanding. "I would just like for the both of you to remember that nothing said in here leaves this room. Is that understood?" She couldn't risk the authorities or other necromancers to learn about what she was doing until she had a position of power. Centuries of slowly gaining power, of finding the perfect targets, all because she had been careful. She could not afford to make any mistakes now, especially not when she was so close.

 

[Faurosk]

Faurosk used what time he had after his sailor moon transformation to produce a small piece of gray chalk from one of the numerous pouches that just folded out of his clothes to hang around his waist. He flipped it once in his hand, as if testing the balance of the small limestone chunk. He turned once he saw Rainie approaching, though, hands instinctively reaching out to take the offered tome. His gaze skimmed rapidly over the cover, taking in the golden font and well-honed penmanship of the book's binder. He then looked over the text once more, actually reading it this time around.Funnily enough, he hardly flinched at the fact he was holding in his hands the book that could have been instrumental to so much destruction. Instead, he ruminated on how over the top dark magicians tended to be in their stylings. A gold-leaf title? Really?

It was only then that he noticed just how hard the curious woman was studying him with her peculiar purple eyes. He met her gaze in that moment, right as she asked him whether or not he'd come from Alliria. It was a strange feeling that this question gave him, given that he'd hardly shared any details of his life with a single soul since leaving Alliria for the first time. "Why, yes I am. I was raised in the outer city, though-- Ah, slumming in the Areck, I mean." He was almost certain that this answer would keep her from probing further; after all, most people were made too uncomfortable by the idea of being in the presence of an ex-shack-dweller to ask anything else. The mage dropped his jaw, hesitating for a moment to ask if she'd done the same; perhaps she was one of the council-merchant's daughters? However, the elven noble interrupted his attempt with her sudden interjection. Faurosk turned to face her, closing his mouth along the way to keep from catching any flies. Her request seemed simple enough on its own, but her implication was far from subtle when paired with the necromantic journal the academic now held by its spine. And so he simply nodded in response, not wishing to tarnish his words with a promise he didn't fully intend to keep.

 

[Rainie]

Rainie stared at the mage intensely, but gave Eilasandree an absent nod and a smile. "Yes," she told her distractedly. "I keep my clients' business silent, and I hope for the same discretion in return."

Faurosk was inspecting the spell book curiously. She distractedly told him, "Page three-ninety-four, it probably has something to do with the wards on it." She passed the amulet between her palms, the stone not as cool as it should be. "I skimmed it, I'm fairly sure it's there after the bit about the anatomy of souls."

Before they could get much further, Rainie went on musing from the spot she hovered quite close to Faurosk, "I'm from Arek, you know. The slums and all. I grew up there..." She trailed off, thinking. And then it occurred to her at once, flashing in her mind with brilliant clarity. "There was a magician! He did tricks! He looked like you, but older!" A huge smile spread across her face, elated that she'd solved the mystery.

 

[Faurosk]

As soon as the page number rode through the room on Rainie's voice, the mage began flicking small pinches of pages further into the tome. Having overshot the required information by twenty-seven pages, he gave the book two hasty flicks backwards to get to the proper folio. The piece of what he could only hope to be parchment was headlined in fancy text which read "Use of Sacrifice in Strengthening Abj--", though the rest of the header was smudged as if done in by a spilling ink pot. The mage paused for a second, contemplating whether or not he should continue reading. After all, even the knowledge of how one might hypothetical perform this sort of blood magic is taboo across most all of society.

He looked up from the page and took a pause from this contemplation, however, when he heard Rainie's voice strike up a thought once more. A slow smile of recognition dawned across his features when she mentioned their shared hometown, and his expression only lit up further when she mentioned the man who'd taught him most everything he knew about transmutation.

"That would be my father you're remembering, unless I've been aging backwards." Faurosk tried to subdue his grin, but only managed to delay it from its course ever so slightly. "And I'm now remembering you as the little redheaded girl from a few roads down." He cocked his head for a moment, giving her a once over to confirm his newly voiced familiarity.

He then looked himself over briefly, lingering a moment on the burns and scars that pockmarked his hands and the faint divot of his robes up along his right forearm. "Alright, I'm slightly envious." There was a smirk on his face then as he met her gaze once more. "Seems you grew up a bit more elegantly than yours truly. Good to see someone else clawed their way out of Allir, though, and, ah... Glad it was you who managed it, Rainie."

 

[Rainie]

Rainie was brimming over with joy at realizing she did in fact know Faurosk, and that they'd played together as children. She now had a memory of goading an older boy into playing pirates with her and her... brother. She tried to smother the wave of sadness, but she was sure it had shown in her eyes. She blinked it away when Faurosk spoke again, and tried for a smile. It was a bit shaky.

"Oh, yes, I've lived a most elegant life, indeed," she drawled flatly, blatantly sarcastic. Sleeping on benches, getting kidnapped off benches, nearly eating poisoned soup. She was living the high life. She didn't offer further explanation, but said, "And I'd say we both managed it, eh?" She flicked a glance at their host, who was being most patient with them. "Now, about the amulet..."

Faurosk Eilasandree Ival

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

Eilasandree waited for the two to settle down and stop talking about the somewhat remarkable coincidence that they knew each other as children, the noble feeling slightly tense as the book of necromancy was passed into the hands of the mage that she knew very little about. He had obviously read over some of the content, but considering that he had yet to start throwing fire or water or whatever around the place she supposed there was a chance he wasn't going to start something, and the banshee let out and instinctive sigh of relief. Once Rainie turned back to her to talk about the amulet, Eilasandree put on a soft smile. "The amulet was a surprise, one I had no knowledge of, but a fortunate surprise. I can feel the same magical energy coming from it as I do Guarapolos' research." She informs them, gesturing towards both items.

"Unfortunately, my magical prowess extends only to the knowledge of the undead, and the wards placed upon this amulet go far beyond that. Each individual ward is weak, but they hold each other up, and each one belongs to an entirely different school of magic." Her smile grows closer to rueful. "Ingenious, as always." Red eyes then move from where they had been looking towards Rainie, over towards the mage as he held the book. "If you can unlock this amulet, I will be sure to reward you handsomely, in whatever manner you may desire."

 

[Faurosk]

As Rainie got the conversation steered back towards business at hand, the book was back in front of the mage. He began reading from page three ninety four once more, this time in further detail than he had before when Rainie was still staring intently at him. He was listening to the noble woman as she spoke, though it'd be a lie to say any less than half of his focus was put anywhere but the book. Even though his hands were gloved against physical contact with the tome, Faurosk could still feel the dark aura of the text interacting with his own. He knew he had a certain degree of protection from these corrupting forces, but it wasn't himself that he was concerned for.

The mage looked up at the elf, realizing that she'd mentioned his payment. "You had best make the payment worthwhile, ma'am; I've sullied my hands with the work of blood magicians before, but I never planned to do it again." He then turned the book towards her, showing a complex diagram of arcane sigils and runes depicting the warding spell itself. "As far as the wards themselves go, well, I can break these two, here," his finger prods at the page, denoting two of the runes that are tied off to three others apiece, "and the entire lattice should falter. I can't tell you what'll happen when I do that, though, so if you'd let me draw a circle of protection on the floor beforehand, I think we'd all be at least a small part more comfortable."

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

While the mage's words were enough to create a spark of annoyance within the ancient elf, she held her tongue and instead gave him a nod. "Do not worry, you shall be rewarded justly." She reassures him. "If you feel a circle of protection is required, then by all means. Oh, but nothing permanent." She made sure to add that little bit on to the end. While she was sure the buffoons she was staying with wouldn't dare offend her, Eilasandree still wanted to maintain at least a positive relationship with the smiley dimwits and their vast trading company. A surprisingly large majority of her contacts had only been found thanks to their connections, and with her goal so close she didn't wish to lose such a valuable asset just yet.

Standing up, the elf cleared the bed and made her way over to sit on the bench that Rainie was perched on, clearing the only space large enough for the mage to create an effective circle of protection. That, and should this go wrong, she didn't wish to be in the splash zone. Sitting down next to the red head, the banshee crosses her legs and waits in what she admitted was excitement. She was curious and nervous to see exactly what her old friend had created, before he died in such a gruesome manner.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"I ain't got your money, and even I did, I ain't gonna give it to no stinkin' Nord-"

Outside the bar, there were a few thumps. Something was being pushed up against the building, and beaten. The unmistakable sound of flesh-on-flesh battering echoed through the inn. The human pirate being held in Arnor's left hand, and beaten with his right- made the mistake of going after the one thing that would really set Arnor off. Call him tall, he didn't care. Make fun of his hair, his eyes, his marks- whatever. But go after his people, the only thing that Arnor really cared about? Especially from a human- that set the Nordenfiir into a blind rage.

He just came to collect thirty gold pieces from the pirate from someone he lost a card game to, but wasn't exactly keen on going after him. He considered him dangerous. Arnor didn't consider him all that dangerous, especially after the third or fourth hit. He avoided hitting him in the face. Bludgeoning someone in the face didn't hurt as bad as the other parts of the body- pain was the number one way to get someone to comply, or cough up coin.

The man in his hands might as well have threw them up. He let him slump against the building. He counted them out, putting them in a special purse in his pack. He deserved to spend the meager coin that he was paid up front, so he figured the best method was a drink. He turned a corner, bursting into the door, knocking a pirate in the back. He turned, but noticed the distinctly....savage features of Arnor. Nordic features, in Arnor's words.

He took note of the patrons of the bar, harshly staring at the humans in the room before making his way to the bar. Some people parted out of their way for him. He sat at the bar, rattling his fingertips along the bar.

He ordered a lager. Not exactly the stiffest of drinks, but he could at least get a nice buzz off of it. He stared at the rest of the patrons, before turning back to the smaller bartender. He somewhat smiled. A rare sight for his people. But then again, he was an oddity.

 

[Faurosk]

Using the chalk he'd produced from one of his numerous pouches earlier, Faurosk began drawing a light circle on the floor. He placed a sigil tangent to four points, each one coordinating to the cardinal directions and their given relationship to the arcane elements. He then placed a fifth rune in the center of the circle, this one corresponding to the classical element of the quintessence. The mage cast a wary eye over the two women, placing his hands at two points on the circle between the runes of fire and earth as well as earth and air, pressing his gloved hands into the floorboards hard enough to white his knuckles.

"Fair warning; if you cross or break this line before I dispel it, odds stand that someone's going to get hurt in the backlash. Not sure how much it'll sting, but it won't be pleasant, my friends, I can guarantee that much." He fixed both ladies with a stern look that wasn't so unkind as it was protective, turning his attention back to the chalk drawing on the ground and forcing some small part of his mind out through his finger tips and into the limestone dust below. The circle lit up almost immediately, light spreading from Faurosk's twin points of contact to encompass the entire drawing. This pale blue light began to float ever so slightly off of the ground, picking up a slow counterclockwise spin as the amulet was placed in its center. "Now, ah... I'm going to zone out for a little while, here. Make sure nothing too terrible happens while I'm out, if you'd be so kind." He wanted to give them the customary 'watch my meat' that meant 'hey, make sure my body doesn't get too fragged up' in wizard-speak, but he thought that Eila would not appreciate the turn of phrase and he knew that Rainie would appreciate it for all the wrong reasons.

And so, without any further ado, the college mage took a cross-legged seat at the small ring of dancing lights. Eyes closed, he cleared his mind and began to force himself into an out of body experience. Even as his body remained seated and catatonic at the ward's edge, Faurosk felt as though he was leaning close to the amulet and inspecting its every detail. His mind's eye could see the warding magic on the trinket in a way that the uninitiated would think impossible, but he could see every detail of the magic as depicted on Guarapolos's diagram. He could make out each individual lock and tumbler of the arcane seal, and saw the most direct course on how to break it. Two of the seals were routing energy to all the rest, and taking them down would tumble the rest like a falling house of cards. The backlash of such a feat would surely sting him, but he was a big guy; He can take it.

And so he forced his will onto the age-old arcana that had been placed onto the amulet, not so much assaulting the wards as sleazing his way past them, convincing them with gentle persuasion to cease their existence. His mind first probed at the transmutation ward, easily removing its influence on the item with his expertise in the arcane discipline. The next task, however, would be a bit tougher. He aimed his will at the evocation ward next, his body's brow creasing slightly at the strain and making the mental effort of this all terribly apparent on his face. A few seconds pass to no avail, but he soon manages to drop the second defense and bring the whole system crashing down as the redundant power source of the array was stripped away. He tried to assense the amulet's true purpose for a moment, but it felt as though something within was actively fighting his plunge for knowledge.

A light wave of some dark magic flowed across the mage's mind, though most of the evil tide was stopped by the circle of protection he was now happy to have placed around the artifact. Still, he felt some dark ripple in the back of his head, as if the attempted attack on the amulet's part left some sort of echo resounding through the mage's thoughts.

His body took in a deep gasp of air as his soul fully reentered his 'meat', and he realized dimly that he must have been out for at least a minute and a half given how oxygen deprived his body felt after it had stopped breathing in his absence. And so it was, chest heaving, face red, and forehead pocked with sweat from exertion that Faurosk looked back to his two benefactors, smiling faintly.

"I'd call that a job well done," he stated plainly, sounding exhausted before continuing. "Do be careful, you two; there's something in there, and I don't think it quite liked what I just pulled on it." The circle of protection flickered dimly, dismissing into a small puff of hapless sparks and leaving the floor bare aside from the amulet which now rested unattended on the ground.

 

[Rainie]

Rainie’s eyes followed Faurosk as he worked his magic, which was a very interesting sight. Slowly, she sat back down on the bench beside Eilasandree, eyes fixed on the mage as he worked. Their shoulders brushed, and Rainie’s attention snapped to the woman beside her. Flushing, she put an inch of space between them. But only an inch.

She continued to watch, entranced, as Faurosk’s circle began to glow. He explained a few things to the two of them and she nodded along. She watched worriedly as the mage seemed to stop breathing. She started chewing on her bottom lip. It wouldn’t do to have their wizard pass out on them… Or, well. Die.

Just as Rainie was leaning forward in her seat, physically restraining herself from jumping up and rushing over to Faurosk, the mage started with a gasp of ragged breath. He actually hadn’t been breathing. It’d been well over a minute.

The wards had crumbled. The pulse of dark magic was so strong that Rainie herself could feel it. The air was suddenly very dense, and she gasped herself, feeling like she wasn’t getting enough air. She felt a little dizzy, in fact. Her eyes were glued to the amulet, its pale violet sparkle suddenly much more malignant.

Suddenly she thought, Faurosk ought not touch it again. Her stomach dropped to her feet in dread at the thought. He didn’t want anything to do with this kind of magic, like he’d said before. Rainie better help him. She could take it and give it to Eilasandree safely…

She was on her feet. She stepped to where the magic circle had once been and reached down without a word. Mouth flat, eyes blank, her fingers closed around the amulet and she picked it up swiftly. She wasn’t quite sure what happened after that, but she felt a warm, solid weight fall against her bosom, her knees hit the hardwood floor, and everything went black.

-

Alexium scowled as the world around him came into focus. Everything felt strange and muffled, like experiencing the world through a layer of cotton. He reached up to scrub at his eyes, and found no spectacles on his face. He hypothesized he must have been asleep.

The hands that hovered before him came into focus. They were undoubtedly not his. They were delicate, feminine, with longish, clean fingernails. His face contorted in confusion as he looked down even more and found he was in fact not in his own body. Rather, he was in the body of a… well-endowed female.

He pulled himself to his borrowed feet clumsily, shoulders slumped and posture poor, so unlike his host’s usual form. Face screwed up in distaste, he observed the room he found himself in. Someone’s living quarters, pitched in darkness.

He found the other two occupants of the room and quickly sized them up, reaching out with his magic and feeling for their auras. The mage earned no more than a scowl. Weak, unimpressive. Not worth Alexium’s valuable time.

He only needed to turn his heavy lidded gaze to the woman to know immediately what she was. Red eyes stared at him from a pale white face. He could practically feel her energy from whence he stood. A marvelous creation, he was quite sure…

“Why, look at thou. Thou art someing.” This voice was naturally very high pitched. Alexium cleared his throat with a disgusted frown. This body was very distracting. He couldn’t say he liked it very much. “What time doth I find myself in? And where is this place?”

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

It really didn't take long at all for Eilasandree to figure out what had happened, even though she found herself regretting the fact that she hadn't been able to catch Rainie in time, her fingers having only just barely brushed against the hand of the thief before she was out of reach and picking up the amulet. Immediately two things had happened. The first was a pulse of necromantic energy, minute but still there, raced its way out of the amulet and into Rainie's chest. The next came immediately after, as the red haired thief collapsed to her knees. Startled, Eilasandree had stood up and quickly made her way over to the woman, a look of concern on her face. There really was no telling what that kind of necromantic energy could do to a living person.

Before she could do anything however, Rainie stood back up. Well, her body did. The necromantic energies coming off of her body were quite familiar, and even if they weren't the necromancer could tell what was going on here. Possession. Usually something that ghosts were known for, and typically only occurred in the weak willed. However, Guarapolos was anything but normal, so the banshee didn't doubt he held a bit more capability as a member of the ethereal than usual. Carefully she stood, only feeling a slight tinge of annoyance at the way the ghost held Rainie's body. "It is good to see you as well, Alexium. I had feared that after your people rebelled, it would be the last I ever saw of you. However, please do try to take care of that body. The resident owner has potential value to me." She addresses the younger human. Both of them.

 

[Faurosk]

The purportedly weak and unimpressive mage sat dumbfounded and stunned as Rainie stepped up and grabbed the amulet, the dark magic still echoing faintly in his mind keeping him from reacting quick enough to stop her. All he could do was watch, chest heaving, as she fell inelegantly to her knees only to rise and stumble upwards once more.

Something seemed off about her, between her slouching posture and generally confused demeanor. Faurosk at first assumed some defensive mechanism he'd missed smacked her straight in the soul, not unlike what he'd felt mere moments before. After all, he still felt aftershocks of drain rippling through his body from whatever was inside that amulet, and it could be assumed she was far less used to arcane assault than he was. As soon as 'she' began to speak, though, he realized with a sense of dread that this wasn't any sort of symptom he'd seen before.

The mage wrenched himself out of his meditative pose, rising onto shaky feet and grabbing the silver buckle which clasped together the two ends of his component belt. His thumb carefully felt for a runic engraving on the back of the piece, one he'd placed there himself no more than six moons beforehand. He glanced over to Eila with concern as she seemed to near Rainie's- or at least Rainie's body's -side, noticeably relaxing as she stopped a few feet short of contact. Good. That was about how much room he needed.

In a flash, the magician threw his right hand out in front of him while his left still gripped the belt buckle, calling forth a ring of radiant light to encircle the newly possessed bard. To him and any other human who might lay eyes on it, the ward appeared as though it were a wide ring of bright white runes. Any undead or unholy entities, however, would see nothing more than a glowing ring of burning light. Alexium had no more than two feet of room in any direction, and the newly cast spell radiated a heat not unlike that of burning coals. Faurosk knew full well that Rainie would not come to harm from contacting the circle unless she had been concealing some fiendishly undead nature from him, but the spirit within her might be disinclined to touch it for fear of an astral backlash.

The mage, however, realized too late that he had little in terms of arcane energy to draw upon, especially considering he had not used either his staff nor a material component in casting the circle of lights. His hand left the belt buckle and clung to the underside of his right forearm, where a burning sensation that could best be compared to necrotizing fasciitis ate away at his physical form in recompense for the first law of magic. Faurosk promptly fell to a knee, knocking even less elegantly to the floor than Rainie had done mere moments ago. He let out a quiet and hoarse cry of shock and pain, biting onto the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood in order to keep himself from screaming.

 

[Rainie]

Alexium stared at the undead woman. “Oh, Lady Ival. I nearly did not recognize you. Has it been long?” And then he glanced down at the pale, feminine hands of his host. “I doth not see the value in such a magically weak individual. Her magic is so minuscule tis nigh negligible.” In fact, the necromancer thought to himself that the bard likely knew nothing of her magical ability. And her willpower was obviously lacking; given how easily he'd possessed her.

Whilst he conversed with long-dead noble, the mage was stumbling to his feet. Alexium startled at the sudden appearance of a wall of white light that encircled his borrowed body. He panicked, and quickly struck out at the wall of light. The pain was all encompassing, and it felt as if his very soul were burning. Rainie’s voice shrieked out in incredible pain, reverberating throughout the room in pure anguish.

He whirled on the mage, face a snarl of utter contempt. Silky red hair fell into his face. “You!” He spat. “Thou complete waste of skin! Release me, and I shall consider taking mercy upon thine soul!” He kicked at the floor, and overbalanced. This body’s center of gravity was completely foreign to him. Having fallen to one knee, he hastily stood back up, more distractingly long hair falling over narrow shoulders. “Doth thou know who I am?! Thou hast no more brain than I have in mine elbows!” Spittle flew from his mouth in his rage.

Baring his teeth, he hissed, “Release me, or I shall consume this harlot’s entire lifeforce, and leave her no more than an empty husk!”

 

[Faurosk]

Faurosk gritted his teeth and looked at the floorboards, taking a moment to spit out some of the blood that had collected from his cheek. His head tilted up slightly to send Alexium a pained smirk from where the mage sat in a three-point crouch, right arm draping between his thigh and abdomen as the pain of overcasting slowly began to subside. Once the necromancer finished his torrent of insults, the magician pushed back up onto his feet and struck a much more solid pose, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the now slightly larger divot in his right forearm.

"Doth I know who you are, you ask? Well, your name is Alexium Guarapolos, and you, my dear friend, have been dead for a very long time," he said, rising to his full height and standing comparatively tall over Rainie's annexed body. "For about, say, eighty years or so? I don't know, the book I read on dark magicians had little to say on you, other than the fact that you died wholly alone and left almost nothing behind. Honestly, though, it makes sense that it would take eight decades to find a host, especially if you pushed all of your retainers away so shortly before your demise."

Faurosk's left arm pried out of where it had sat crossed over his chest, raising his hand to stroke his chin in mock thought. "Eighty years... That's a long time-- Longer than you lived, if I'm not mistaken. You wouldn't really want to kill the first body you've had in that long, would you? Then you'd just be stuck in that amulet all over again."

His arms crossed once more, and the mage now stared straight into what were once Rainie's eyes with nothing but malicious intent for the dead sorcerer held therein. "An amulet that would be so easy to dispose of. We're near the docks, after all-- I could pluck your shitty little phylactery off of your host's corpse and drop you straight to the bottom of the ocean."

Faurosk's gaze grew cold, though it took a great deal of effort to look with such hatred at the woman he thought might be a friend not two minutes prior. The pain he still felt rippling throughout his body gave ample anger for him to channel into his intimidation attempt, though, and the rest of the effort stemmed from his contempt for all practitioners of dark magic. "That would be awful, wouldn't it? Just imagine, asleep forever- dead, really -below leagues and leagues of water, with your only hope of a future host being whatever horrid fish happens to swim through the loop of your pitiful little 'necklace prison'. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

A potent form of vitriol crept into the mage's voice as he explained just how hopeless Alexium's situation could become, and the acerbic tone remained as he offered the necromancer a succinct ultimatum. "Now get the fuck out of the woman's body before I send you screaming back to the pits of Hell. I trust your friend "Lady Ival" will keep me from bringing you to too much harm, should you choose to comply."

 

[Eilasandree Ival]

"That is enough." Came the sharp piercing voice of Eilasandree as she looked between where the possessed body of Rainie would be through the blinding light of the spell and the mage as he threatened the ghost. "Neither of you shall act without my say so or so help me Divine neither of you will see the light again." She had allowed the mage to talk, but now she realized this had been a mistake as he threatened one of the most cunning and creative minds seen in centuries, even if the mage had the right of it. The fool had also quite obviously over taxed his mana, judging by the blood he was spitting on the floor (she took a single moment to bask in the smug feeling of superiority at being undead there), and she doubted he even knew what he was doing at this point. It was time for a necromancer to deal with the spirit, before either the spirit or the mage wound up dying.

Looking into the blinding light, she squinted, just barely able to make out the feminine form behind it. The spell in front of her was one she knew, had researched and come across in her time. Its main draw was that it was low power, and very complex for something with so little cost. Impressive to have cast it so quickly, yet annoying to have to deal with now. Fortunately, there was a way around it. She didn't' want to give Guarapolos time to come up with some sort of a reply, so quickly the banshee reached forth. From her sleeve can tendrils of a dark purple energy, running along the bottom of her fingers and coalescing into tiny little points on her finger tips. Pressing against the binding, the dark energy rapidly spread across the light like a corruption, making its way over and dimming the blinding radiance until finally it all fell away into nothing.

Ignoring the slight lack of response in her limbs, Eilasandree didn't give Guarapolos any time to move. As soon as the radiance was down she stepped forward until she was almost pressed against the body of the possessed Rainie, looking down at the shocked face of the red head as the elf's left palm impacted lightly against the bosom of the possessed body, just over the heart, while the right came up to touch lightly upon the amulet. It was a simple extraction, really. Block the spirit's access back to the amulet, then haul it out of the possessed body. Her hand slowly drew away from where it had been pressing insistently against Rainie's chest, a ball of that same dark energy pulsating in her hand. Every now and then it would distort, rippling or forming minute spikes, before settling once more. "He cannot hear or see us in this form." She comments to the mage, before looking down at Rainie. "Are you okay, my dear? Possession can take a lot out of even the magically inclined." She asks, briefly checking over the thief in concern.

 

[Rainie]

Alexium balked at the mage's vitriolic response, and quickly became furious. "Eighty years is a mere blink for an immortal! Doth thou understand what I've accomplished?! I am the greatest mind of a generation!" He was quickly interrupted, however, by the mage's cold threat.

White hot fury bubbled up in Alexium's borrowed stomach, and a sharp reply rested behind his bared teeth, when a colder voice cut in powerfully:

"That is enough!"

Alexium found himself suddenly free of the mage's barrier, but had no time to react or even move before a tall figure was suddenly looming over him. His jaw dropped as he looked up at the undead elf in shock. "Lady Ival!" he cried in surprise. Why would she step in? Was she not a colleague, a fellow practitioner? Exactly how valuable was this host? He had seen the woman's memories, and knew these three had only met hours before!

His vocal chords seemed to freeze of their own accord when Lady Ival pressed her hand against Alexium's host's chest. He could feel her heart race, and a new consciousness was suddenly, brutally, edging him out of her mind. Unable to speak, he cursed internally and swore he'd return; this was not his end. He was brilliant, a genius, the most powerful necromancer of his time, surely -

-

The amulet was gone; safe in the hands of Eilasandree. The room was suddenly very, very silent. Rainie swayed on her feet, slowly blinking awake to a spinning room. Her head felt light; light as a feather, so light it might fly off her shoulders. So much lighter than her arms, which felt like they weighed several tons as they dangled from her heavy, heavy shoulders.

She very nearly remembered everything. There were blots of darkness in her memory, but she remembered his sick glee, his malicious fury, and the mania that had enveloped her mind as she was shut in a corner of it. Unable to speak, move, do anything.

Usually, when she did that sort of thing, she was given a safeword. Ha.

"He isn't..." ...very nice. Her weak voice trailed into a whisper. She found herself unable to speak as black spots popped sporadically into her field of vision.

See, the bard was in a bit of a situation. In her eagerness to reach Elbion, she had traveled through the night, only stopping to rest and cook the last of her rations. This was after traveling the entirety of the day before. She had had every intention of resting after securing room and board in a tavern in repayment for her performing for the night. She'd planned to ask the bartender at The Singing Gull...

The world began to tilt on some unknown axis, and Rainie realized she'd be resting sooner rather than later. Oh, well then. Her knees gave way and her body tipped forward, out cold before she even hit the floor.