Research

[Kinetic Asparagus]

Right. Best not to ask the question if you're not sure of the answer, Alaric's mind chirped in an odd mixture of alarm and amusement as the mage was suddenly filled with a new lease of life.

Nevertheless, he didn't stick around. His abrupt dismissal finally gave him the opportunity to relieve himself of his claustrophobia - he slammed through the door with evident haste. It probably hadn't gone unnoticed by Silvarn but, to be honest, he didn't really care. As long as he was away from what had felt like a cage.

He had already planned his entire route in his head. It would take him less than a day to reach the edge of Valear if he rode fast, and he could pick up everything on the return leg which he couldn't find there. Even so, he'd be cutting it fine, and although he as of yet had no real opinion of his employer he certainly respected him; Alaric didn't want to disappoint.

Is that really true? he mused as he untied Aodh and swung into the saddle, neatly slotting himself amongst the heavy baggage on the stallion's back. No opinion...

He considered as he slowly guided Aodh into wider streets. He certainly wasn't fond of the alchemist, but he definitely didn't dislike him. Did that constitute no opinion? Or just a resolved opinion of indifference?

His thoughts continued along much the same path as he galloped out of Tamasha and onto the wide, straight road, leading right to the Keremin border.

xXx

He hated this town, and all the others like it. It was no pot of gold in Tamasha and its equivalents but out here, right on the border, traces of the destitute Keremin seeped through into Valear. Tiny, skeletal children ran infront of Aodh as he walked briskly into the centre of the insignificant collection of run-down buildings and "homes" which were barely held together.

The parents - or keepers - of the waifs were stood directly behind them, more than ready to snatch anything that should chance to fall into their fragile, starving hands...

It made him .

He nudged Aodh into a reluctant trot to reach the other side of the town with more speed. The threadbare woods there were maybe an hour's walk from the border at most, and from there onwards a half hour run to Ferramest? It might take a little longer if evasive action was called upon, but surely no more than thrice the time?

It was the height of stupidity to risk entering his homeland at this time. Even on the other side of Valear, although he'd been there only briefly and only once, he'd heard horrors of the war between Keremin and the Unity of the North, and the draft which had been dubbed the guilotine. But there was no way he could be so close to his sister - for the first time in three years - and not see her.

He set Aodh free to roam, and made camp. The cover was pitiful but nobody would be searching for him at this time, not even if they knew he was missing in Keremin, or of what he'd been doing in Valear. The Kereminian census was a laughing stock - half the inhabitants of the miserable state were unaccounted for - and to Valear he was invisible.

He would wait for the red sky to turn inky black, and then he'd set off.OMG... there's an OOC box. How freakin' cool is that? It'll probably get edited away in a second, I don't know, I'm just testing it out... -

[Silvarn]

One slam of the door and Silvarn was alone again. Well, mostly.

He is gone. Scorcahr informed in his typical nasally whine.

"Thank you, Scorcahr, but I am not completely blind to the rest of the world."

No, but you sure do work up a potent case of tunnel vision.

"How long did I say the boy had?"

Approximately twelve days. Seven for travel, five for acquiring.

"Good, good. That will give those 'alchemists' some time to prepare themselves." Silvarn replaced the tome on demonolgy, then pulled down the silver-studded grimoire next to it. He flashed through the pages, stopping abruptly on the specific page. "The Nectar of Echoes." he muttered, cross-checking the ingredients listed to his "shopping list."

"How well-stocked are we for producing the Nectar?"

Well, we are fresh out of nostalgia tears. That is our main problem. We are running low on the others, but that is easily remedied.

"I see..." he mused. As if he were made of clockwork, Silvarn's arms snapped out and slammed a lever down, ending the steady stream of electricity. "Very well. Apparently, we have some searching to do."

[Durp]

((ooc: Ehm.. I'm not too sure when exactly I should post.. Kinetic Asparagus said to "jump in at some point".. so.. If this post is out of place, I will delete it. Thanks!))

This was certainly.. different. Gosha had only ever taken a contract like this a few times in his life. Follow some guy around and then find him. He hadn't yet read the rest of the parchment slip he'd been given by his latest employer. Probably should do that in the near future.. Oh, right then.. ah, follow the guy, befriend him, turn him in if he's the right one. Got it. Though, now that Gosha actually read the thing, he was beginning to dislike this job.

He hated the idea of betraying someone's trust and then turning them in to the authorities.. It'd probably end badly. That, ending badly, and he didn't like to work for someone that worked for the government or anyone that seemed like they did. Probably should have paid more attention to what the job was. Maybe he should stop accepting contracts while drunk, too. That was a good idea.

"Oh. Damn. Where'm I going?" Gosha was now amidst in a forest-type area. Good going, genius, you're lost. He stopped for a moment, looked around at his surroundings, cursed a bit and began to walk backwards until he found his way out of where ever he was now. Seemed as though he walked right off of the path he was on. He did, indeed, do that. Once more, good going, genius.

But where exactly was he going? Gosha was sure it would be written on the parchment note he had received earlier. This time, before reading it, he stopped walking, to avoid further getting lost-ness. It said this guy, he skimmed the note a few times over for a name, Alaric, would most likely be heading west to Keremin.

"Oh.. West.. ha.."

He swore a few more times before walking back the way he once thought was wrong. He was getting irritated now. How bleeding difficult was it to get to this, he skimmed the note in his hand once more, Keremin place? He wondered for a brief moment if he was just stupid, and then shrugged the thought away. Briefly. Nah, couldn't be.

Gosha glanced up at the sky for a moment, it wasn't too late in the day.. Though he'd never been to Keremin, he had a feeling that he would get there rather soon. The parchment said it wasn't too far. But the parchment could be stupid. And wrong.

The trees and the forest area had stopped long ago, now Gosha was on a wide, straight road. There were no 'Welcome to Keremin' signs and no 'Hey, Gosha, You Stupid Git, Here's Where You Need to Be' signs. So he assumed he'd just keep following this thing and he'd be where he'd need to be. Yay. As he was walking, he read a bit more of this note.. Why exactly was he going after this man? He remembered something about an illegal immigrant while he was being informed about what he was supposed to do. . Hey, that was on the parchment! So was something about drug circles and underground organisations.. Yay, he was somewhere!

Or, rather, not yay. This town he ended up entering .. well, to put it bluntly, sucked. It was a bunch of hovels and other buildings that looked like someone had tried to knock them down, but then in the middle of it said, "eff- it" and walked away. He couldn't help but grimace as he caught sight of some of the inhabitants to this town.. Why in the world would he have to go to some place like this to find someone? Why would someone go here? The sooner this was over the better. And probably, knowing Gosha's luck, this Alaric guy would be in some place far, far away from here. But it wouldn't hurt to look now. His luck could be different today.

Mentioning looks, he didn't know what this man looked like.. at all. No hair colour, no eye colour, race, no age, nothing. Just that he was a male and that he would probably be going to Keremin and that he was illegal and stuff. He really didn't like whom ever wrote this blasted note. They weren't very specific, well, not Gosha Specific. He shoved the note into his pocket, making sure to crumple it a bit while doing so. "Heh. Take that, note." he muttered as he looked around a bit. "..Figure it won't be too hard to find this Alaric fellow, if he's here, he'll look like the only one that's eaten.." Gosha said the first bit in a louder tone than the rest with the intent that if he was near the one he was looking for, that they would recognise their name and.. I don't know, show themselves.

[Kinetic Asparagus]

((This is, potentially, a very long post. With a big Kathee/Alaric reunion scene. So feel free to skip most of it, I doubt much'll happen.))

Alaric could barely see as he jumped and ducked his way through the trees and dense bushes along the forest floor. They were exactly the kind he despised; too low for cover, too high to be stepped over, but just the wrong height to be cut through. Covered in needles.

He tried to figure out again why he hadn't just worn his heavy boots to protect his legs rather than these ridiculous leather ones. He wasn't sure in which way his speed was affected - slower for pain or faster for weight. Either way, he'd probably be much less tired.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the main road leading through Valear to Keremin. He had already passed the border - it wasn't hard, he'd swung along the canopy to avoid detection should there happen to be a patrol - but now the woods were thinning. He would soon only have this damned shrubbery to contend with, and would have to stay very, very low.

He'd already been awake for twenty hours, riding continuously for nearly nine of those. It was beginning to show.

As soon as the sparse cover of the woods was almost non-existant, he started off on a diagonal slant. If his geographical memory was correct, he hadn't too far to go before he reached Ferramest. Providing the moon stayed covered, his estimated arrival time may even be brought forward...

xXx

Alaric kept his eyes on the ground as much as possible, following the now unfamilar outskirts of his hometown with trepadation. If he wasn't losing his mind, Ferramest used to be almost half this size...

And just as poor. Even these brand new buildings - some of them not even finished in the three years since his last visit - were already crumbling, their windows without cover. In the dead of the night he could hear the gentle wheezing of a woman, sleeping soundly in her bed. In the next house, a tiny baby cried... but so quietly. Alaric could see through the window of this one, for half of the lower wall had already fallen away. A threadbare blanket, pale blue in the moonlight softened by translucent clouds, raised and fell with his miniscule, weak lungs. He was , so ... and nobody cared, nobody came running. Perhaps they just couldn't hear him?

Alaric could do nothing. His own ribcage throbbed with each whimper but he couldn't do anything. There was nothing to do in Ferramest; infant mortality rates were far higher than the survival figures of this wasteland.

It didn't take him long to reach the farmhouse. The town had evidently become a safezone from the Unity, and quite rightly: it was easily one of the farthest groupings of people from the Northern border of Keremin. But the desperately poor inhabitants had been forced to expand their miserable boundaries; it had almost swallowed up the entire Arafachnan farm.

Kathee's pink curtains blew in the breeze. Crouching as out of sight as possible, Alaric lobbed a well-aimed stone and the window ledge. It bounced off and through the flapping curtains like a rock dropping into water, landing with a loud thud on the floor. A few seconds later, a startled white face with a long, dark mess of curly hair popped out of the window.

On seeing her brother, Kathee's features lit up to the extent that she almost looked unrecognisable from the scared, pale creature she had been only seconds beforehand. She disappeared with a gesture that sent Alaric to the back of the house where the cover was much more dense.

Alaric's entire frame shook from the relief. This was going perfectly...

Half a minute later, they were clinging desperately to each other, the little Kathee weeping into her older brother's chest. They were both sat in the muddy, wet grounds outside the rear gate but neither noticed. They were far too concerned with this, the first time they'd laid eyes on each other for three years.

She's so thin, Alaric thought, realising that she was now fifteen but was almost the shape as she had been when she was twelve. Taller, but just as narrow. That wasn't right. And the Arafachnan family were, by a considerable distance, one of the most prosperous of the area. He literally shivered when he thought of what some of his old friends must look like now.

"What was that for?" Kathee asked, barely moving her lips, her head resting on Alaric's shoulder. "You shuddered. You can't be cold."

"You're too thin," he replied, with more ferocity than he had intended. He didn't bother to explain himself; she'd understand. His anger wasn't directed at her.

They sat in silence for a little longer, waiting for both of them to gather their wits together. Eventually, Kathee pulled back and placed both her hands on the sides of her brother's face, examining how much he'd changed. Alaric did the same to her, but it wasn't really necessary. Her features had hardly changed. Perhaps she looked even more like their mother now but surely not by much. A little more grown-up, face a little longer. Eyes a lot older. Far older than fifteen. The only part of her face that mirrored his but the one which would at a glance show their relationship.

"You're sharper," she mused aloud. "You've not been eating well? No... no, you're just more like Pa. Ma had the round face, like me." She had always been like that, rambling on to herself, as if to solidify the fact that she'd ever thought anything, to make it real. Alaric was much quieter.

And at the mention of their father he fell quieter still, his face suddenly stone. Kathee noticed the difference too, despite being about as observant as a blind duck. She moved her hands to rest on her lap. "He misses you, you know." As Alaric's mouth opened to retort, she hastily continuted, "And I should know that because we're actually getting very close."

Alaric's jaw snapped shut in astonishment. He said nothing. Kathee and their father were chalk and cheese, night and day. Even Alaric himself had seen eye-to-eye with Alaric Snr. more often than she.

Kathee needed no more prompting to just keep on going. She'd either be useless or fantastic in interrogation - she'd either give up all there was to offer or she'd fill the inquisitor's brain with so much useless information that he'd drop dead from the overload. She talked about life on the farm, how it was alright but nothing special. They were making more money than ever due to demand for the soldiers and the farm's food-supply capabilities. There were so many evacuees that the town had virtually doubled in size, but the rest of the farmland was protected because it was essential. She had persuaded their father to keep the absolute minimum required for themselves and disperse the remainder of their rations amongst the poorest because they got extra for making so much food.

Ah, Alaric thought, that's why she's a sack of bones. He felt more at ease when he knew there was no chance of her starving - should they get too the economical Alaric the first would make sure she ate well.

She shut up after a while. Alaric didn't like the silence - it was too sad. "No men for me to hunt down, then?" he joked, expecting a rushed, negative answer.

Even in the soft light he could tell her cheeks darkened.

"What!?" he exclaimed, and suddenly he became the talkative one. It took a while to extract the details from her, but it turned out she was being courted by some immigrant from Valear called Ayne. He was Alaric's age.

It took a long time for Kathee to get Alaric to shut up after that revalation.

"What've you been doing in Valear?" she whispered, having resumed her original position curled up in his arms.

"Nothing of interest," he said quickly. It was an obvious lie, but Kathee knew him well enough not to press him any farther.

Another pause.

"I wish you could take me with you," she sighed softly.

Lord, Kathee, so do I... so do I... Alaric's head was spinning, his heart and lungs trapped in a crushing grip. He could barely breathe, because those few simple words had cleaved him straight in two. It suddenly slammed into him with the force of a God that in less than an hour he'd have to leave his sister and probably wouldn't get to see her again for another three years.

He struggled for air as he whispered, "I will. I promise you, I will, I'll take you away with me someday and we can..." We can live, you can have the life you're supposed to have, we can forget all of this and just be alive and be free. Your eyes shouldn't be so old, Kathee...

"But not yet."

"No," he conceeded. "Not yet. The second you turn eighteen I'll be back for you, and we'll run as far as we possibly can. I promise."

"Are you crying?" Kathee exclaimed in astonishment. Oh... Alaric realised with surprise. So he was. He hadn't noticed.

xXx

Five hours later, just as dawn was breaking, Alaric collapsed inside his tent. His makeshift pillow of soft ferns wrapped in an old tunic was saturated before the first real light hit the trees.

He couldn't sleep, so he lay awake and waited for his memory of Kathee's pain-stricken face to fade, to forget the torture of leaving her again.

Work would take his mind of things, he decided, sitting up and shaking himself of any stiffness. To Rattaford, it wasn't far. He could find many of Silvarn's precious ingredients there, his mind spat with contempt.Interesting RP this. We're all telling individual stories here. I quite like it, it's... different :D -

[Silvarn]

Silvarn slumped in exhaustion after his last employee went out the door for the day, into the one seating device in the establishment: a well-worn black leather chair with most of the stuffing vanished.

"How can these so-called geniuses be so..." he addressed his knees.

Stupid? Scorcahr finished.

"Yes, exactly. Admittedly, they are intelligent, if somewhat unfocused. One would assume they had never synthesized the Nectar before."

Might I remind you, O Master, that these are mundane alchemists? The most potent concoction they have brewed are eyedrops to change the color of the iris. They have no idea what they are creating, much less how powerful it is.

"Did any of them pilfer anything?"

No, I made certain of that. a much-too-toothy smile flashed before Silvarn's tired eyes.

"Spare me the details. I would rather sleep tonight."

Speaking of safety, I wonder how our favored employee is faring?

"Yes, I would very much like to know that as well. Do we have enough material for the Potion of Farsight?"

No. We have only been concentrating on creating the Nectar. We had no reason to purchase eagle corneas.

"And the Potion of Heartsight?"

No Blood of the Martyr.

"Oh, well. There are alternatives to alchemical methods." Silvarn said with morbid glee.

Master no! You know I do not like being outside the comforting claustrophobia that is your tiny mind for any longer than I have to. Psychics, demon summoners, exorcists...they are all out to get me!

"Then be careful."

Master! No! Please?

"Nice try." Silvarn's tone changed suddenly, becoming powerfully authoritative, "Find Alaric, communicate with him if need be, evaluate his condition, then report back to me. Is that understood?"

Yes, master. Scorcahr spat before blipping from Silvarn's consciousness.

Silvarn sighed at the realization of his being truly alone. It was not his fault people did not like him. It was everyone else's fault they did not understand how important his work was.

[Durp]

Well... to say the least, Gosha's search was quite unsucessfull. He had been in this town, if you could even call it that, since nightfall. It was now almost dawn. His patience was nearly gone now, he'd given up looking for the suspected person in this portion of the land at this point. He had spent the entire night asking (well, more like yelling at) whom ever he could find if they were or knew where a Alaric Arafachnan would be. Again, without any sucess.

Gosha was very, very close to just saying that the target was not the right man. Hey, he already had a portion of his pay now, what hurt could a little dishonesty do? Eh.. he might give this one more day. He knew he was an impatient prick and was just a bit irritated at the lack of detail he was provided. He'd probably get over it in a matter of hours, once he went and punched something. That'd make him feel less.. displeased?

For the last.. while.. (time wasn't being kept all that well) Gosha had just been wandering around the town. Once most everyone was not outside, he had nothing else to do. Yes, just now he had been making a triange whilst walking and complaining to himself. He stopped in his tracks, looked around a bit, chose a direction at random and began moving that way. As he travelled in his new direction, Gosha kicked whatever structures he encountered; Two shed-looking things, and a tent. It was fun to him, kicking things. As he was walking, he started to think more about what he would do when and if he found the one he was to be looking for.. It was something he hadn't thought of. He obviously wouldn't just go "Hi. You're suspected of stuff. Come with me so I can be paid." He needed to think more on that.


((ooc: Sorry, not the best post, kind of was rushed. Again, sorry))

[Kinetic Asparagus]

((Right. That tent's well mine ))

Okay... Alaric thought, scanning the list. Eight down, nine to go... that's not bad for few days' work. The rest, of course, were much more spread out but his links with the underground were considerably stronger closer to Tamasha - this was working out nicely. In addition to that, so far Silvarn owed him very little money. Alaric had never considered himself too good to blackmail.

Of course, his good luck was bound to run out soon. Besides, when he wasn't struggling with anything he had far too much time to think.

The first place his thoughts turned were Kathee. She and the little baby were the only two residents of Ferramest he'd seen but, judging by his sister's fragility...

It was just wrong. It was always the wrong people who suffered. Wars should be fought by the people in power, not their pawns. The ones who actually have something to gain, not those who have everything to lose...

His spiralling thoughts were interrupted rather startlingly by what felt like a boot connecting with the back of his head through the tent. Fair enough, it was right next to the road - he had been too lazy to look for any sort of cover - but why the hell was somebody kicking it?

He clambered out, half naked, onto the road, and looked to see who the intruder was. Already he was a little way along the road, walking quite sharply. Considerably shorter than Alaric, dark hair, skinny. That was a fair kick, though, Alaric mused, rubbing the back of his neck. It'd jerked his head so sharply... that'd be damn sore in the morning.

"Hey! Scrawny! What the f##k was that for?" he shouted after him, starting along the road. In bare feet. But that wasn't really bothering him.

He rubbed the back of his neck again pointedly.Apologies for the language but there really wasn't any way around it. -

[Durp]

In all of Gosha's life, he had kicked few tents, none of the few had people in them up until this one. You know, it's about time he angered someone in this part of the world.

"What'd I do that for, huh? That's a hard one... I think I'll have to go with 'because I can', yes, that sounds just right." He stopped, then turned to look at the one, he thought was, coming after him. He felt awfully short and hoped that the other man just looked taller from afar.

This was also somewhat of a new experience for Gosha; he had never been yelled at by a half naked man on a road this early morning. Or.. ever.. for that matter. It didn't appear that the other was armed with anything other than his fists, so that was good, but you never know.

He was expecting to get involved in some sort of scrap. That's usually how things worked. If things didn't go like that, then that'd be just grand. The guy didn't look to happy about Gosha kicking him, though. But who would be?

"Oh, out of curiosity," he shouted back "was that a pretty good kick, or was it crap?" By now Gosha had s bit of an arrogant smirk on his face as he stood there like an idiot, waiting for the other to catch up to him. He honestly had no idea what he was doing, normally you'd run away from someone you had kicked. That was a good idea. That way you wouldn't be kicked yourself. But he's not too bright, so, eh.
He rolled a small stone under his foot a few times before picking it up and tossing it off of the road, for no reason in particular.

[Kinetic Asparagus]

"'Because I can' won't be a viable excuse once I'm done with you," Alaric said, stretching his long fingers at his sides. He could keep his voice at a regular level now - whoever the idiot was, he was either brave or stupid enough not to be running away. He was clearly no physical match for Alaric, whose years of running and riding had turned him from a weak little boy to a creditable opponent for most. Unless he runs as fast as an eagle flies he doesn't have a hope in heaven, Alaric's uncharitable train-of-thought continued.

In reality, he probably wouldn't bother to damage him. Well. Not too much. Just not worth the effort. He'd knock the nonchalence out of him, though. Look at the slime, doesn't have any idea what I'm thinking about doing to him. Throwing stones... I'd like to see him be able to walk if I kicked him...

He kept walking right up to him until he was no more than two feet away. "So," he started, shaking off his shoulders and flexing the muscles in his arm in a carefully calculated display of masculine agression (scary but not enough so that the kicker would run away, he wanted his fun), "seeing as thus far we've established that your reason for attacking an unsuspecting traveller isn't acceptable, would you care to venture another before I put your leg permanantly out of use?" He smirked, tilting his head to the side a little. As many complicated words and phrases as possible... let's see if we can't make him admit to doing horrendous things with his mother...

Another empty threat, but at least it lightened the young man's mood. Slightly.Gosha's awesome :P So funny lol -

[Durp]

"Ooh~ I'm so intimidated by your threat, I'm wetting myself like a lowly dog as we speak." Gosha didn't have a fighting chance in, well, anywhere, against this guy. And he knew it. If you're digging a grave for yourself, why not dig it deep? He continued to bear his smirk, but was a bit more nervous than he previously was. And it was seen through him fiddling with his left hand's extra finger. (just a little nervous habit)

He tried to give himself an estimate; ..Just how fast can I run..? ..If I need to.. He cut his thoughts off. Realising what he'd just been thinking of doing. Stupid. You idiot, Gosha, you don't need to run.. You've got your dagger, don't you? He tried reassuring himself, and it worked. He nodded in agreement with himself. Yeah.. that's right.... I suppose.. No. I'll be fine.. Gosha's own thoughts were beginning to annoy him, so he tuned them out. He had a habit of talking to himself sometimes. It was weird, even to him.

The two were no more than two feet apart now. And , oh dear god.. this probably was not going to end well. Gosha had three options; run, get his knife and go all "stabby", or keep being a sarcastic twit and become handicapped. As much has his brain wanted him to go with option number one, he decided to go with number three. But, without the, y'know, becoming handicapped part. That would be good. Very good.

"Durr.. I are too stupid for to understanding your words of super-human intelligence." He made sure to mispronounce each word to a certain degree, the longer words more so than the shorter. Honestly, he didn't know why he said that, but it was funny. To.. Gosha it was, anyway. "But, in almost all seriousness, Hell.. why not? I'll give it another go." He paused for a moment as if he were thinking, for no explainable reason. "Right. Got one. It's a part of my religion, Nonexistiantreligionist. Perhaps you've heard of it? The third rule we all must follow clearly states "thou shalt kicketh those who use the holy Side Road as a place of refuge."." He paused once more to space out his words, "There, how's that work for you? Better, or worse?"

[Kinetic Asparagus]

Alaric couldn't help himself - his mouth twitched in amusement. Whoever the skinny man was, he somewhat reminded him of... himself, several years ago, in a very crabby mood. And this guy didn't look well, clearly had had as much sleep as Alaric had had over the past two nights, if not even less.

"Shouldn't that be Nonexistiantreligion... ism?" he asked, relaxing his posture slightly. "Besides," he continued, making a sweeping gesture, as if brushing away his previous comment, "I'm an atheist, and happen to be one of those stubborn ones who refuse to take account of any others' beliefs. Much like most religious people." He was taking the piss a little now. "I, for example, believe that people shouldn't kick unsuspecting tent inhabitants."

The scanned the other man's frame again, before meeting his eyes with a look that very much said 'I'm much bigger than you, you're going to die'. Of course, by now, Alaric had almost no desire to hurt him. His anger had subsided as quickly as it had flared - now he was just having fun.

"Try again or apologise and clear off."

[Silvarn]

Silvarn recoiled from a sudden blow to his cranium, the force of which knocking him off of his feet, sending him sprawling to the ground. He blinked hard, shook his mangey grey head, then growled "Glad to see the reconaissance went well, Scorcahr."

Shut it, Grey One. the demon growled acidly.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but I think it is you who obeys me."

Of course. How silly of me.

"Now, how is the thief doing?"

Fine.

"Be more specific."

Healthy.

"Scorcahr, need I bring back Penelope and her stuffy-bwear?"

Silvarn winced as Scorcahr hissed murderously from within his mind.

Very well, the demon spat, The boy is whole and in one piece. He went to visit a relative of some sort in this gods-forsaken village. Oh, and he just made a new friend.

"How many animals did you have to go through to acquire that ingot of knowledge?"

Two squirrels, a starling, sixteen beetles, and a rabbit. The last one was because I felt like it.

"When will he return?"

I cannot say. He has approximately half of the ingredients currently.

"He had better hasten. I am growing impatient. I fear the 'alchemists' may defur if they are left waiting too long..."

We can forge the Ingot of Gateforging now, can we not?

"Yes, but it is far too risky without weaving the Mantle of Destiny first. We must combine the Gift of Heaven with the ingredients the thief is procuring. It will insure nothing nasty on the other side does not snatch us into their plane."

Just wondering.

Silvarn's impatience grew with every passing moment. If he had to wait much longer, he would go forth and collect the supplies himself. And relieve Alaric of his duties.

[Durp]

Gosha took a bit of pleasure in the fact that he'd made the other guy, kind of, amused by his little comment. Actually, he was a little amused by it, himself. Ha. That's probably why he said it. Or.. it was some sort of randomised phrase he spat out. Either way, it worked. Somewhat.

"Hmm? Yeah, probably. Never been too good with making things like that up." Gosha gave a short, half-shrug, and thought nothing more of his vocal typo, for lack of a better pair of words.

"Oh.. so.. uh.. worse?.. I can't think of any more excuses. Well, not decent ones.. I'll try though. " "Right then. The dirt told me to? I'm completely mad and it soothes the voices in my head to give a nice little kick to unsuspecting people I happen to pass on the road.. eh.. I get paid to?" He tilted his hands so that his palms were facing up and gave a little shrug. Kind of like if he were offering something to someone, "Any of these.. better?"

"Well, anyway.. I think I'll clear off now. Won't apologise. Wouldn't be worth it. I can guarantee you that my apology would be similar to me saying 'piss off', or something like that."

"Name's Gosha, by the way. If you ever want to back up your threats and beat me to a bloody, pulpy mess, you'll know who to look for." He waved, said

"Toodles." And started to jog away. Just then he realised how stupid that word was. Gosha thought about it some more, and decided to never, ever, ever say it again.


((OOC:sorry I hadn't posted sooner! D: I haven't been on in forever. And this is mainly all dialogue, so it sucks. Again, sorry.))

[Kinetic Asparagus]

"Toodles." Alaric raised his eyebrows. Right.

He turned to head back along the road, slipping one last jest over his shoulder: "If you ever catch wind of an Alaric Arafachnan coming after you, Gosha, you'll know to run..."

That was good, he thought, his spirits high. Good fun. Just what he needed. Now he even had the energy to attain the last nine items left on that list...

Aodh hadn't ridden much today, he could do another few hours. Enough to get him to Maskavar, where if he was lucky he could get them all, five if he was extremely unlucky. That'd leave him a full five days - of which he only needed two (at a leisurely pace) - to get back to Tamasha where he could pick up the last few. Silvarn might even get his supplies early.

He ducked back inside his tent to dress himself properly.Right... let's see if we can't get this whole annoying dialogue thing out of the way in the next fe posts lol xD -

[Silvarn]

(I'll go ahead. I haven't contributed in a while =])

Five days. Five grueling days of inactivity. Boredom set its festering claws into Silvarn and refused to let go.

You did come to a formal agreement about his allotment of time. Scorcahr cheeked.

"Yes, but...Bah! There is nothing worse than having to wait in order to finish something you have already started."

Perhaps that is why you never became an accomplished ?

"I cannot stand this waiting any longer!" Silvarn stormed about the laboratory, searching frantically for something, anything to distract him.

Perhaps you could...assist him?

"Where would be the logic in that? By the time I found him, he would be on his way back here. No, the only thing I can do at this point is wait." he growled.

You could try forging the Key of Gateforging, if you are that desperate for something to apply yourself to.

"No. No, no, no!" Silvarn shook his grey head violently, as if trying to remove Scorcahr's presence. "It is far too risky without the Mantle. You recall what happened the last time we toyed with powers without taking precautions, yes?"

Yes...Sarvan. Scorcahr spat out the venomous name. How could one forget?

Silvarn slumped into a seat, throwing his hands over his eyes in exasperation. "Surely there must be something I could do?" He waited for Scorcahr's response, but none came. He mentally groped for the demon's presence, but found it vanished.

"Scorcahr?" Silvarn asked the empty room, a tinge of nervousness creeping into his voice.

Again, with the force of an arrow, Scorcahr's reentry into Silvarn's mind knocked the mage too the floor.

"Really?" Silvarn snarled as he lifted himself back up, "Must you announce yourself so forecefully?"

I did some research. Scorcahr announced proudly. Apparently, the thief's friend was actually an assassin hired to kill him. He was offered a pretty penny to do it, too.

"I see..." Silvarn mused as he rubbed his smooth, pallid chin. He strode across the laboratory, ripping out a small piece of parchment. Without the slightest hint of concentration on the mage's part, thin grey calligraphy bled from the parchment, writing out a short message:

"Alaric, it has come to my attention the man you have met with recently was, in fact, hired to interrupt my work. Tell him I will hire him instead, and I will double whatever price his employers set. If you return within three days, I will do the same for yours. ~ "

At the end of the message, Silvarn slashed out his personal insignia, an eye with several curling spires radiating from it, with expert swiftness.

Would it not be easier for me to deliver the message personally? Scorcahr whined.

"Yes, it would, but I seriously doubt the thief would enjoy having you in his mind, unannounced." Silvarn banished the note with a snap of his fingers and a wisp of thin grey smoke. The next time Alaric would build a fire, the note would fly from the flames, unburnt.

Would not be entertaining to play the two against ech other? Scorcahr mused.

"Yes, it would be." Silvarn answered with a nasty smile.