Fable - Ask The Essence of Being

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As she finished scarfing down her first loaf of bread, Seretha raised a hand to her necklace, squeezing one of the bone talons between two fingers. An experienced mage like Vaezhasar Drakspae could likely have seen the magic energy flow from her core up through her arm and into the talon, which to a sensitive eye pulsated with a light blue aura until she pulled her hand away.

She took the second loaf and after a slow, practiced breath tore off a piece of that as well to continue eating.

This is going so much more smoothly than I thought it would.

"So, scattered throughout the world are many artifacts. Most of these scholars know a lot about already. I, however, have found information on a collection of implements which appear to affect others through interactions with other planes of existence. I found such a piece already in a vault in Annuakat about a decade ago when...." She paused and looked at Vaezhasar. "Well, you know. I'm not normally the type to loot and pillage but it was certainly the spirit of the time and frankly I doubted that Gerra would actually follow through on paying us. He wanted zealots, not soldiers in his employ."

She conjured a minor illusion with her meager talent in that particular school of magic. It was of a knife with an unconventional profile: a slightly s-curved cutting edge with a hook on the back, more like a tool than a weapon. Its handle was off-white bone with only the barest hint of flaring to stop the hand from sliding up onto the blade.

"This is, my research so far has indicated, called a soulrazor, and that's a very good name for what it does. It severs the bonds of a soul to its vessels and anchors in this world by quite literally cutting the tethers in the spirit realm. While I've never developed the ability to see and speak with souls there, I can see the tethers, and I have witnessed this separation with my own eyes."

The illusion altered as she directed it with her finger, a brilliant blue fire stretching out in a line, streaming from a fuzzy silhouette of a person barely more than a shadow puppet, and slowly vanishing out of view. A smaller version of the knife moved through the fire, separating it in two. The puppet collapsed into a dark pool and the fire withdrew from the image.

"There is much more to this set, but this piece alone raises so many questions which I would like answered. The first stop to doing that is, I believe, the Bayou, based on a great many rumors and legends I've compiled."

Argós
 
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The granite golem's face wouldn't be as expressive, but, to his soul, being near those two felt as if he was opening a small box of surprises.

Argós didn't know how to react to the information revealed by Seretha. Of course, he had already been in situations where he had been sent to recover arcane treasures; adventures filled with dangerous dungeons and secret ruins, finished by the rare artifact locked in some chest. But - a blade that was able to cut a soul from the material world? That was actually out of the curve. While not an actual "fascination", the rock giant was impressed at the powers of the knife. And a bit concerned. Could it potentially be used to harm the ghosts he knew, or even himself? Could it make them never see the landscapes of this world? The razor's ability was both "intriguing" (eh, this term will have to go) and frightning to him.

When it came to weapons, Argós usually did enough work to separate his general distaste of them from the work he was supposed to do. It wasn't healthy to indulge too much in his own opinions, either way. But, with the soulrazor, it was different. After putting his concerns and views aside, one (seemly logical) objection remained: was he really suited for the job? "After all", he thought to himself as he looked towards an unmasked Vaezhasar, "necromantic artifacts ask for necromantic adventures, and the sorcerer next to me would be more fit for the work than me, a non-sorcerer..."

He stared at Vaezhasar's face for some time, thinking about how even a human, known for their fragility, would be better suited for such magical quest, eventually looking back to Seretha and her illusions. After some time of reflections, the stone creature concluded to himself: "Perhaps I shouldn't judge too early; it's possible the mission involves some physical challenges as well... or even, only physical challenges!" Images of falling traps, weak bridges and fights with animalistic beast came to his head.

So continuing with his arms crossed, Argós quickly noted:
"I confess I'm starting to get the impression I'm not right for yer job, but I think it would be nice to hear beforehand what sort of things we would expect once we arrived at Bayou from ya before I do any preconceived judgments."

Seretha ibnat Rezhe
Vaezhasar Drakspae
 
Argós
Seretha ibnat Rezhe
“And what, exactly, did you intend with these artifacts?” Vaezhasar asked, his voice smooth but edged. “Are you hoarding for the sake of hoarding, or is there some greater design I have yet to see?”

He leaned back, blue eyes narrowing. “I understand the knife well enough—you being a necromancer, and all that—but needing my help? No.”

His hand reached for the two-pronged fork. With practiced impatience, he jabbed it into the bronzed hide of the suckling pig that sprawled across the platter. The crackling skin split with a dry crunch, flecked with salt and thyme. Steam rose from the torn flesh, the juices popping as if the meat itself still fought to breathe.

Vaezhasar tore free a strip, blew on it once, and shoved it into his mouth. Fat and spice mingled as he chewed, a thin rivulet of grease sliding down the sharp line of his chin. He did not wipe it away.
 
They both couldn't see their potential role in this, but that was of little actual concern to Seretha. They needn't understand anything in the grander scheme, really, though Vaezhasar Drakspae certainly wanted to and likely any help from him would be contingent upon a full explanation

"Ultimately," she began, taking another bite and swallowing quickly, "that depends on what the entire set is capable of. The use of the soulrazor is, yes, clear enough as to why someone of my skills might want it, though I wouldn't say that my interests inherently lie together with those of other necromancers."

Many necromancers were, after all, the reason that societies across the world took a poor view of the school to begin with.

"I do not consider other necromancers to be allies or comrades in arms, and indeed keeping these things away from those that might abuse them has crossed my mind as justification enough if they prove to have potentially world-shattering effects."

She cleared her throat and picked at the fish that had been delivered to the table with a short forefinger nail. "I am also interested in learning for the sake of learning. That I can certainly do on my own and I would regardless of retrieval. The amount of danger involved, however, concerns me greatly. I have fought and killed, and I have braved ruins before, but pursuing this feels... far more perilous. Between potential undead legions, potentially a lich or two...."

Seretha looked specifically at Vaezhar for that before shifting over to Argós. She said, "And of course environmental concerns: cave-ins, collapsed walls, that sort of affair. I, too, can become overwhelmed. I am only mortal like the rest of us."

She set into the fish quickly, pulling out chunks of the meat within, alternating between that and her third loaf of bread. She touched her cleaner fingers to her necklace again and more magic potential flowed into one of the talons hanging there.
 
Argós started to connect the dots and make sense of where he could fit in. He actually began to like what he was hearing. If they were going to an underground ruins in a slow process of decay, that meant there was a whole range of situations where the golem's skills would come quite handy; after all, he was really good at improvising contraptions, building structures, destroying structures, mining, excavating, etc. "Environmental concerns", as mentioned by Seretha, were something that he was very used to, and, if the two sorcerers wanted to focus on fighting lichs, the granite giant certainly could take care of more menial tasks - stuff such as unblock passages, extract useful items, illuminate the path and, when necessary, build temporary shelters against earthquakes. Plus make sure the party was alive, of course. That by itself was another entire universe of tasks.

The rock being sounded a positive "hm", as if he had a pleasant surprise. Looking at the table for a few seconds, he responded afterwards: "It's possible I have some way I can help ya, then... I'm not sure I may be good at fighting against lichs, though I may get hold of a few undead, but I think I may help ya in more basic tasks, such as keeping the path lit and without traps. Or barriers, for that matter..."

The granite giant looked around, asking himself why his food didn't arrive yet. Apparently the gods of fate had noticed his annoyance and sent the old keeper to the table. Noticing her approach, Argós oriented her to give each bag of food - fish, cheese, bread, tomatoes, etc. - directly to him so he would store them inside his backpack, without filling the already full table. She finished by giving his jacket potato, which he put on the table, thanking her and paying her around two thirds of the coins he had. While the aged woman left the scene, the rock golem noticed his dish was much smaller than the others. Quite ironic, considering he was pretty much a glutton. That was probably the effects of his money shortages.

Either way, it was good that the potato arrived. The granite being quickly started devouring it, taking large bites at a time. After taking some moments to enjoy the taste, he noticed that was actually one of the best jacket potatoes he had ever eaten, he probably should go eat there again, should he be in Alliria in some other moment of his life.

Seretha ibnat Rezhe
Vaezhasar Drakspae
 
They both couldn't see their potential role in this, but that was of little actual concern to Seretha. They needn't understand anything in the grander scheme, really, though Vaezhasar Drakspae certainly wanted to and likely any help from him would be contingent upon a full explanation

"Ultimately," she began, taking another bite and swallowing quickly, "that depends on what the entire set is capable of. The use of the soulrazor is, yes, clear enough as to why someone of my skills might want it, though I wouldn't say that my interests inherently lie together with those of other necromancers."

Many necromancers were, after all, the reason that societies across the world took a poor view of the school to begin with.

"I do not consider other necromancers to be allies or comrades in arms, and indeed keeping these things away from those that might abuse them has crossed my mind as justification enough if they prove to have potentially world-shattering effects."
Seretha’s remark drew a hearty laugh. The irony felt thick enough to carve. He tried to keep a straight face; the corners of his mouth twitched anyway.

“I fear I’m exactly the sort of power-abusing fellow you dread putting that blade near,” he said, tone mild and unhelpful. "You might say I am yoked to my ambitions like an ox to a plough—though in fairness, it’s a rather splendid plough, and the fields it tills are terribly interesting. If that makes me a villain in your ledger, well, I shall not protest. Just be sure to spell my name correctly in the marginalia."

He dabbed his lips with a napkin.

“I can help, nonetheless—but note my terms. I’m a married man with a wife to return to. I do not intend to hazard my own hide. Not directly, at least. If I choose to assist, I’ll dispatch a familiar. One of mine will stand in for hired muscle—and then some.”
 
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Seretha frowned for a moment not in direct response to Vaezhasar but in considering his priorities against her own. She had no husband but she did have two young children she hadn't seen in probably a couple of years now. For just a brief instant she questioned her own choice but just as quickly she dismissed it. Everything she did was for them and her clan; her sacrifice was, if anything, noble. And besides, she surely couldn't take them on the road with her, that would do nothing but endanger them. They were better off with the clan creche and their grandparents.

"Well, sir, fortunately I don't subscribe to a duality of good and evil. We all possess multitudes. The nature of the abuse is important context and right now we don't know what you would be capable of with these things. And if you're not physically going with us then I suppose we never will."

She ate thoughtfully for a moment before waving a hand. "Not that I wouldn't appreciate the investment of a familiar. I will take any help I can get, especially as my research so far indicates this will likely be one of the more dangerous adventures I've embarked upon."

Clasping her hands together and leaning back in her chair, no longer concerned with accidentally sharing secrets to unwanted ears, she said in a louder voice, "I suppose, then, we come to the two main questions at hand: will you both, in your own ways, be joining me tomorrow morning on the ship to the Bayou, and what will your help cost me?"

Vaezhasar Drakspae Argós