Private Tales A hunter in the streets

[Rainer]

"I'm certain such a flower either doesn't exist or is so rare as to effectively not exist, given the state of our coin pouch..." He replied quietly, flicking through the pages as if it were written in a runic expression so far beyond his comprehension, it simply wasn't worth more than a passing glance. After a few moments of the quiet flicking of pages between him and Wren, he clapped the book shut and slid it neatly back into its place.

Moving over to a nearby window, he cautiously curled his fingers around the fabric and revealed a bit of sunlight into the room. With the sun hitting his hand, he felt warmth and nothing more. Either the window was enchanted or their daylight resistance was still intact and unfortunately, each option was just as likely as the other and could theoretically overlap.

Breathing out a sigh, he released the curtain and looked over to Wren.

"History of Bur'tyga...The Foundry and Castle of Chains." He smirked and looked out the window, spotting the cresting of flowing wheat prior to the flat and towering view of glistening blue water. Finally, he shook his head in sudden conclusion. "Don't see many barrier islands, I have to assume those chains are of the manacle variety." It fit with the narrative of the Duke's position and based on his recollection, the Presbyter had referred to him as the Duke of Chains. Things lined up in that regard.

"Are all the mysteries of this Keep unraveling before you?" It was a sarcastic expression but formed from a valid curiosity. They needed information and he knew it, even if he was tempered with exhaustion and nostalgia for a bed he had never slept in.​

 

[Wren]

CLEP.

Wren jumped at the sound of the book clapping shut and gave a short, annoying look around as if seeking out a pesky fly to smash against a nearby stack. Rainer was, decidedly, beyond such reproach but that didn't keep her from stinging him with a hairy side-eye before she returned to her perusals.

She got several solid minutes in of reading, finding more recent ... well, recent was a loose term wherein the current Duke of the keep was concerned ... entries involving himself. Even before then, there were some curious things of note. And then that nuisance fly was back again only this time it was talking. She looked at him, a similar look she might've used on a child insistent for attention while mother was busy.

But, she digressed, there was some interesting tidbits to be gleaned from the entries.

"The keep was once used to house convicts of the locale ... there's a dungeon where they were tortured and kept." Wren idly meandered over toward a desk that sat off to the side, between herself and the window Rainer presently haunted. She turned and sat against its edge with a long sigh. A few pages turned, a map presented itself and she studied with growing intrigue, "The dungeons were originally used as major storehouses for farmsteads to store grains and goods. This was a supply keep, in its early stages. The underground thoroughfare stretches all the way to the town and ... to the coast."

That made for a very extensive tunnel system.

"The main tunnel corridor was expanded about two hundred years ago when the keep was developed into the main hold for the overseeing Lord. It's large enough to pass two mule carts side by side. Or at least, it was."

 

[Rainer]

Rain had been around Wren enough, between this life and the one that preceded it, to know what that particular glare meant. He was irritating her and a small part of him was happy about that. If he were truly being honest and had found his way to a flower that could cure her of her temper, he was certain he wouldn't care for it. Her temper, a short fuse as it were, was one of her many endearing qualities.

But for right now, it felt like proper revenge for being pulled from a overly comfortable bed.

He moved absentmindedly down a row of books as Wren spoke. It wasn't surprising, given the nature of the building and the nature of the town, that they would attempt to separate the glorification of whatever deity they claimed to praise and the punishment for conviction. It probably felt like mixing shit with water from their perspective but in truth, it was just varying degrees of shit, geographically disparate for no reason beyond perception. He was, however, surprised that a Keep would open itself to the coast in such an extensive manner. It seemed like a gap in the defenses, unless it had also been used for some form of smuggling. Rain suspected that the history of Bur'tyga went far deeper than originally anticipated.

"That seems excessive but I'm hardly one to speak on Keep design..." He uttered as he moved down the row of books. He was fingering the binders, pulling out each individual book just enough to expose the face. Until he extracted one that seemed to get caught and wouldn't move any further. A small click echoed through the room and Rain looked around. "That's odd...but not unexpected." Nothing happened. "There must be a combination to open another door...somewhere."​

 

[Wren]

She was still reading, picking through various journal entries detailing a seemingly unending supply of convicts to the dungeons and their apparent recompense due in the form of dastardly punishments no sane human should sustain. Elves didn't abide by such savagery, it was part of the reason her people didn't care for humans and their beastly minds. Caught in the reverie of these findings, Rain's initial comment echoing muffled from the stacks didn't quite catch her attention.

But that resounding CLICK did.

CLAP. She snapped her book shut and set it on the desk, giving the area he'd wandered into a curious look. What now, did he break something? Pushing off from the desk she padded across wooden floorboards to find him standing in the stack aisle with his hand on a stubborn book. Hazel eyes squinted at him suspiciously.

"What do you mean ... combination?"

 

[Rainer]

The question seemed to fall on deaf ears for all the response it received. Rain had made his way down to the bookshelf end before hunching over and checking the row beneath.

Another click.

 

[Wren]

Wren tilted, continuing the eye the man and the bookshelves strangely. What was he?

Rainer moved back up the aisle, shifting his gaze upwards and thumbing another row of bindings before -

Click.

Somewhere nearby a series of gears creaked, groaned, and turned open a lock. A sullen creeeaaak echoed from the back of the library.

 

[Rainer]

Cogs twisted against each other, groaning brass against brass. as the shelf towards the back of the library shuttered. With the sound of the stone and wood bending inward, the section of shelf sunk into the wall before swinging inward like a door on a hinge.

Beyond the new threshold, another, and arguably more intimate, office space appeared. The office moved from a narrow hallway to an open floor pattern, framed by a large auburn and gold rug as the centerpiece. Even from a distance, it was easy to see that that all the visible walls of the office space where made not of stone and moss, but of stained glass. The sunlight struck each geometrical piece, sending rays of various colors across the breadth of the room. The brilliance was, at times, blinding.

Within, a smaller bookcase stood against the section of wall that was stone. In the center, a large and ornately carved wooden desk, brimming with locked drawers that faced the stained glass. Atop the desk was a large green book, wrapped in silver chains and locked with a locket that had the appearance of an open eye. And behind the desk, two large steel braziers hung from chains and were filled with air and soot and nothing else.

Rain approached carefully and wore a casual look of concern. "Went through all the trouble to hide this room, it would make sense to place traps."​

 

[Wren]

Curiosity would probably always get the better of her. Wren paid no heed to any of Rain's wariness about this revealed room of wonder. If nothing else, her practical mind told her it was simply a private study that likely had been one of the original Lord's escapes from family and his daily toils. A place to enact private thoughts or perhaps darker deeds. Made no sense to her to have it beset with traps.

Honestly.

She snorted at the man and strode past him, her boots deftly tamping lines of echos down the narrow passage and to the wooden floorboards that greeted her within. Only upon the second step one of those board sunk in and another sudden succession of rattling hinges and cogs -

FWOOSH!

"HAA!" the sound of Wren startling in terror-stricken fright as the two braziers suddenly exploded into hot, orange flames. She toppled off her feet, scrambling back from them in a completely instinctual reflex of her now deeply seated fear of fire.

Expected fire was one thing. Surprise fire quite another.

 

[Rainer]

Rains hand moved without command, entirely on instinct. Thumb outward, index outward and flexed, and the other three fingers spread in the other direction - palm towards the fire. It was either by exhaustion or simply a reluctance to use magic that the Difesa spell, and the giveaway orange hue, didn't leap out from his hand to protect the two from whatever traps spilled out of the room on account of carelessness.

He took a deep breath as that likely would have awoken the Duke and ended this exploration at what felt like a turning point. Golden eyes drifted down to Wren as he offered her his casting hand. "Seems the Duke enjoys his luxuries." Fire was a touchy subject. Even more so when it was so magically inclined. But the Vedymin suspected that now that they were beyond the threshold, they were no longer in any immediate danger.

"Are your curious at all what's in that book..." He turned his attention the desk. "The silvered eye locket is an old joke, carried on by many of our kind. It requires the blood of a vampire to open the clasp. But it's a delicate matter when silver is involved. For some, anyway." That left a few options. One was that the Duke was immune to silver, like they were. Another was that he wasn't but was a glutton for pain - a not unlikely option, given his temperament. Or the final option, which involved the use of Cassandra to open the book.

All-in-all, Rain preferred the last option the least and the first option about the same.​

 

[Wren]

Wide-eyed and flustered, Wren stared at the dancing brazier flames with a similar likeness to looking at the tip of a sword, unarmed. Her hand gripped the one offered, rising by the ease of Rainer's strength alone as she took several moments to ease the sudden jelly consistency of her knees from the fright. If she were a smoker it would be a time like this that a cigarette or a pipe would come in handy to curb her frayed nerves.

Alas, she didn't even have booze. What a fucking shame.

Her gaze shifted from the fires to the book in question, opting for renewed curiosity over questioning poor judgement. Was she curious about what was in there? Who the hell wouldn't be.

"Well sure," she said over a sniff, "but I'll leave that one to you." He was the expert, after all.

The faintest echoes of footsteps out in the hall hit her keen elvish ears, "Someone's coming."

 

[Rainer]

He had heard it as well and part of him wondered if it was Eli'Ina coming or someone else. The Duke? Maybe Cassandra? It was hard to tell given the weight of the steps and as it stood, Eli'Ina had done a good job of concealing her movement from his senses. None of the options were any better than the other - he had a feeling this wasn't the sort of place where guests should linger.

He turned around and stepped towards the threshold. With suprisingly little effort, he swung the book shelf back and as if taking the cue, the cogs fired up and sealed the door back in place. It was a quick action with relatively little thought put into but he assumed that often times, the Duke would prefer to toil in silence - so there had to be a way to reactivate the door once inside.

He pressed his ear against the back of the door, nothing more than a wooden wall without a door knob. "The sound carries differently on this floor. It sounds like someone of medium build...neither the Duke nor Cassandra. And whoever it is, it seems like they are passing us by."

It hadn't occurred to him that finding them in this room may have stirred as much suspicion as not finding them in the library at all. But the deed was done. Nothing left to do but sort out their current predicament.​

 

[Wren]

"Uh-" Wren stood back as Rainer closed them in, eyes growing wide at the odd decision to trap themselves here. Despite the thought that there had to be a way out once you'd closed yourself in, it still felt ... ill conceived on his part. She had a strange sense of foreboding as the last clanks and clunks of the locking mechanism gears fell into place.

Welp. That was that.

"The sound carries differently on this floor. It sounds like someone of medium build...neither the Duke nor Cassandra. And whoever it is, it seems like they are passing us by."

"Guess it's too late to yell for help. We fell into your secret lair and we're stuck, oh nooo ~" she gestured flippantly as she turned back to the desk and promptly yanked the chair out to take a seat before the mysterious book. "Since we're here..." Wren pushed up her sleeve and reached for a nearby letter opener to put to her palm. A small nick, just enough to pool a bit of blood between the heart and lifeline which she carefully tipped into the center of the unblinking silver eye.

 

[Rainer]

He was of mixed emotion regarding their path forward. Part of him felt that this book might hold secrets that could illuminate a myriad of secrets. Secrets of Bur'tyga, secrets of the Duke, and even secrets regardin their affliction. Yet, he couldn't seem to overcome a sense of dread regarding the book. He imagined that just a happy as he would be with that locket unclasped, he would have been equally happy to return to their room, leaving everything in this office as they found it.

But their was too much momentum to stop now.

And yet, as they blood dripped onto the silver eye, nothing seemed to happen. Several moments passed as he watched, having moved to leaning on the desk. As each moment passed, he leaned further forward to inspect the locket. He hadn't immediately noticed but the blood seemed to disperse or, more apparently, disappear altogether. As if Wren's blood had soaked into the foundation of silver and was now part of the metal itself.

And then the eye opened, blinked, and wheezed shut once more. The inner mechanism of the locket moved and the silver chains fell away, splaying across the desk. The book seemed to have no title, either on the face or the binding. It was bound in brown leather, manipulated to appear as striated muscles, stripped of skin. The stitchings were red, either from dye or soaked directly in blood. Had Wren attempted to move the book, she would have found the task impossible. It either weighed far beyond its appearance or was magically adhered the desk.

Rain cleared his throat and shook his head. "That...is not a book written by man." He was certain of it, absent any proof beyond his gut feeling.​

 

[Wren]

Wren had never developed a penchant for stealing things and thusly made no effort to move the book. Given it was perfectly accessible where it was and she saw no immediate value in her present situation of trying to take a book when she could not readily leave - well, there you have it.

"I believe book is not an appropriate label for this ...thing..." Wren peered down at it in tethered disgust in the same manner she might eye a maligned creature of the night. Forested eyes glanced over the tome before her and, after a moment, she released a deep sigh. Her scarred hand lifted to pull it open to its first pages where she might glean a title or perhaps an author. Information pertaining to its contents? The usual things kept at the foreward of most usual books.

 

[Rainer]

The first page was empty. And had Wren looked beyond that page, she would find each subsequent page to be empty as well. As if the parchment had never known the touch of an inkwell.

Rain took a deep breath and with a furrowed brow, circled the desk so that he could inspect the book with his companion. "You're right." He uttered with clenched teeth. "It's far beyond that." He spoke as if he had some knowledge regarding the artifact but in his typical fashion, he didn't avail any information immediately. Instead, he let the silence take them and hoped that it would persist.

But it didn't.

Ink, like from a wound that had been cauterized but popped open from strain, bubbled up from the center of the binding. It spread across the first page as if an invisible brush pulled the black against the white. With each strafe, the blob of ink and the trail that followed it seemed to disappear. Then it would pop up again, strafe across the page, and disappear. Finally, after a few movements back and forth, it settled at the center of the page and took form in the shape of full lips and sharpened teeth.

"Speak." The mouth moved and uttered the word as if it had the tongue and lungs to form phrases. The disembodied mouth moved across the page as Rain stood quietly, somewhat taken aback.

"Speak. Your blood...my words. Tell me of your affliction...you who were born of the Nine."​

 

[Wren]

She'd rather grown to loathe that dwindling tone of voice he used. The tone that silently spoke of the volumes of information presently churning through his thick skull that he opted not to speak of aloud. Wren seethed for a moment, her spine slowly drawing erect in the chair while her fists settled lightly upon the armrests. It was an effort, truly, not to just ... yell.

SPEAK DAMN YOU.

"Speak," said the book.

"Exactly-" Wren hissed, looked down to where the voice came from and nearly leapt out of her skin at the sight of blooded lips cradled within the book's spine, "SALAS'TAAL MI ERA-" the elven expletive escaped her own lips as the book spoke again. She might've toppled the chair in an attempt to stand were it not fairly solidly stuck in place by its own bulk. Instead, Wren remained seated and pressed quite stiffly into the seatback.

"Rainer ... why does - what the fuck is this thing?"

 

[Rainer]

It wasn't that Rain enjoyed withholding information from Wren, despite his general disposition towards her more flustered moods. In fact, he was actively working on that particular habit of his. But to speak out in this circumstance would have been nothing more than a poorly educated guess. And generally, his inclination was to prevent any conclusions that may have been biased by his assumptions. But in this circumstance, it was simply that despite his position as senior Vedymin, he had nothing but straws to grasp.

"Ah yes, vulgarity. A steppingstone to debauchery, fountains of wine, and hillsides strewn with the rolling bodies of lovers and corpses, tangled about with limp bits here and not-so-limp bits there. Hmm, perhaps a bit of hyperbole."

Rain moved forward to slam the book shut. But it seemed to resist him, despite ample effort.

"Don't do that. I've only just been awoken. Very rude." The mouth moved across the page and swayed, back and forth. "Try it again and there will be consequences. Now. Speak...plainly...of your affliction." The mouth shimmied and seemed to vibrate on the page. "I've already tasted it, smelt the iron though my silver eye. Now give it body, give it words."

Vedymin. Rain thought it but the word escaped him.​

 

[Wren]

She felt strapped to the throne with a mixture of aversion and disgust. Somehow this book, an item normally of great fondness for the woman, had managed to leave her in a state of growing repulsion. Wren wanted to be away from it. So far away. Everything about it screamed danger to her and she had absolutely no idea why.

Rainer's movement to close the book might've been her own. So unnerved and disconnected from the physical present, Wren felt her thoughts mingling with his and his own sudden alarm at their current state in this hidden place. The thought that she'd made a huge mistake landed flatly on her mental lap and the regret she felt in her stomach nearly made her gag.

Except it wasn't the regret that came out, but the word "-vedymin-" in unison to the moment the word burst through Rain's mind. It had escaped him and instead exited her own mouth. Wren pressed her lips together in mounting anxiety. Where had that word come from? It hadn't been her own - she hadn't even been thinking it. A hand moved to latch on to Rainer's nearest forearm, though her eyes remained locked on the lips of blood within the book.

Shit, what had she gotten them sucked into.

 

[Rainer]

Her hand grabbed Rain's arm but he was already looking down at her, as if he were investigating the very wind that carried the spoken word. He chewed on it for a moment before looking back to the book, making no effort to shrug away the elven grip.

"Vedymin...vedymin." The mouth moved across the page like a fluttering moth, caught between a net and a flame. "It rolls of the teeth, it does. A strong name for the changer, for the weakest of the nine. A corrupted, muted, desaturated display of promise and expectation. Oh how we have fallen, sweet children of the Damphir. Far indeed."

Rain's vision narrowed, hoping that if he stared hard enough, the book might just shut of its own volition. "Play your games, demon." It was the only word in his armament that fit the mood. Everything else felt oddly insulting and the very notion that he cared, seemed to bother him. "What do you want?!" His tone didn't raise and neither did his volume. But where his sight seemed dull and unthreatening, he tried forcibly to whet the words into something approaching menace.

"Orobas desires what he has always desired. To give the truth and receive the truth. That is all. So..." The mouth fluttered across the pages, snagging on the joint and flying past. "What do YOU want, oh diluted ones?"

 

[Wren]

Wren had no mind to be offended by the book's words, but she fed off the negative emotion from Rainer just the same. His irritation manifested in her in deeper aggravated disgust that grew quickly from a simmer into a full blown boiling anger. The grip on Rainer's arm tensed, squeezed, and suddenly released as Wren pressed forward from the throne upon which she sat, gripped the desk, and summarily flipped the entire thing over with a fiendish snarl.

She was on her feet the next moment, teeth bared, shoulders tense, and heated hazel gaze blazing upon the mess she'd made, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

 

[Rainer]

Either by an inexplicable ability to gauge Wren's immediate intent or out of a latent desire to let her follow through with her plan, Rain didn't move as she flipped the table over. What little baubels were there, including the book, when skittering across the floor. As Wren announced the desire to leave, Rain was entirely in agreement. That book was no book and whatever was in it, Orobas or otherwise, was seemingly beyond their means.

Rain stepped forward towards the door and felt his stomach drop, like he had been tossed from a cliff and was heading towards the rocky waters below. He moved to grab Wren not out of protection for her, but out of his own need to stay upright. Vertigo nearly took him as he felt the flash of the fire from the brazier behind them, like standing against a raging mantle.

"Very rude..." The words echoed through the room and despite himself, Rain was certain he felt the words vibrate through the floor. "I offer you truths for truths and your spurn me. I...am...hurt."

The book bounced against the floor and the silver chains were suddenly flung against the nearby wall. The flames flickered from the metal pan, sending a monstrous shadow against the wall. But it wasn't against the wall, it was standing in front of them. And it took the shape of the large figure with an equine base, the torso of a man, and the head of a horse - cloaked in roiling darkness.

"Inadvertant spurn as it were, you are strong to lift my chains. Truly. For that, when I rend your bones from your flesh, I will mourn the loss." The shadow took a step forward and that time, Rain was certain that he felt the room shake. "Take solace in my tears, oh diluted little things. For Zagan has instructed me of the his ways. Waters and tears...into wine. Now..." He waved his shadowy hand as Rain lifted his own, blotting out the Lux spell in a fell swoop. "Tell me, vulgar child. Why have you so chosen to release me, I wish to carve the words into your cenotaph." He chuckled and the deep tone resonated through the flooring.​

 

[Wren]

"Rain-" the man nearly took her down with him when his weight suddenly latched on to her, Lucky for him, Wren wasn't a waif of a woman. But her sturdy frame and physical strength wasn't enough to steel her valor against the flash of flames and the rise of the strangely demonic entity. Shielding her gaze from the light and heat of the flare, she heaved Rain back into balance with a growl that edged on anxious as her eyes landed back on their ... new friend.

He talked too much, which immediately made her think of the Duke and just how little she cared for his words. Words that sounded intelligent but said very little. Even if her anger had unleashed the thing, it wouldn't stop her from continuing to act on ignorant instinct.

"You can fuck right off," the response collided aggressively with her bared fangs as she leaned to grab the nearest brazier and fling it directly at the creature.

 

[Rainer]

The brazier flew towards the shadowy feature and promptly passed through it, skittering coal and embers across the floor. The pan, like a brass symbol, snared across the floor as it rolled and collided into the wall. Rain looked back at Wren with sudden clarity, angered by both of their impulsive actions.

"Enough!" He barked with fangs bared, angry more with the helplessness of the situation than anything else. Turning back to the shadowy figure, he eyed the embers and lowered his gaze to the feet of the demon. Flames crawled out from the bronze pan and danced against the binding of the book before sizzling out into curtains of smoke.

"Release me from my cage and set the bars on fire!" The demon laughed again and shifted towards Rain, absent another prompt.

"What are you?" Rain stated, as if he was waving a white flag. "How did you stop my spell?"

"That was no spell! That was a parlor trick. Smoke and mirrors, useful against the meager and mundane. Your mortality, your affinity for the star...it weakens you more than you can know." The shadowy creature continued. "I am nothing and everything, bound and tethered by eternity. If you were a stone, I would be the mountain that crumbled you out. Eons ago, you slipped from my teet and tumbled down my stomach. And eroded into the thing you are now." He lifted his shadowy talon to stop Rain from asking another question. "Truth for truth, blood for wine. Speak now of your purpose in this place of sand and wasted traditions."

The beast shifted it's attention back to Wren, as if warning against any further foolhardy actions.​

 

[Wren]

"Enough!"

Just like that the snarl escaping Wren's throat, cutting like razor blades across her fangs, died upon her tongue. The command, but more importantly the intent behind it, stopped the building tension right in its path and leveled the threatening wrecking ball of aggression coiling in Wren's muscles. Compelled as she was to listen, Wren acquiesced without cowing and made no further moves nor offered any other rebuttals - the obedient attack dog waiting for the release. Her gaze still remained upon their quarry, intent and intense.

 

[Rainer]

The shadowy figure didn't laugh but he might have given the impression that he was considering it. Instead, Rain broke the silence.

"Work is our purpose here. A matter of bounty and collection."
"Ah, hunters. I should have suspected. And what is your target?"

Rain shook his head. "Truth for truth. Why are you imprisoned in this place?"

The demon hesitated, clearly irritated by the rules of this exchange. Rules that he had conjured. "Because this is where I am held, a timeworn place of blood and undeserved sentence. Kept by the seed. The truly weakest and strongest of your kind, the breeder of variation."

If Rain was confused by that answer, he didn't readily show it. "And we have released you. Which means that you are in our debt. Ancient laws would dictate that you are bound to us and to our good fortune..." Or more importantly, survival. And it seemed that statement struck a chord. Despite how loquacious this creature had been, the statement gave him pause.