P.S.S. "The Legend Of The Primal Keys"::Ch.2 a- The Truth [IC]

[Sutoratosu]

Murdoc

Elimus looked at the highway man with a bit of scrutiny, though his response didn't show it "Very well, I can see your point..." he sighed. "People or so ignorant that they automatically jump to the conclusion that horses are just ordinary mindless beast, you might well be accosted because of that stupidity from them. Go on, I will wait by the staircase. And make sure you purchase saddlebags if you find any." with that said, he trotted off towards the building, noticing several other horses tied to a riding post not far from the stone stairs leading inside.

"Let me guess, brother," one of them, a stallion with fur a dark, near black brown like freshly tilled fertile earth, said as he approached. "Your rider told you have to stay outside like a dog as well."

"Indeed he did..." Elimus said. "Indeed he did."

"Well, join the club, my friend." The stallion moved over a little, making room for Elimus to stand next to the post. "Human's, eh? so pompous... thinking us to be savage and basic. we try to converse with them and they ignore us. try winnying, and they tell us to be silent. trot around a little they tell you to calm yourself... and so out of options, you decide to return their disrespect with one of your own and shit on the floor of their establishment in insult.. and the bastards throw you out."

"This sounds to specific to be a hypothetical case." Elimus said.

"I know..." the Stallion answered. " That's because it's the story of what happened to me not even ten minutes ago. I went in with my rider, tried to apprise the fool that he was getting swindled, and he brushes me off like some base animal every single time...before finally casting me out here. it's humiliating"

"Ah yes..." Elimus sighed. "The struggles of a black stallion..."

Meanwhile, the doors to the emporium loomed large before Matrim...

[Chim]

Trystane looked with a blank expression at the duo in front of him. “In that case I’m ready to go. I took care of supplies so I’ll be waiting at the meeting point.” He gave a small wave when he left the shop and went over to Argo. “It seems like our job is done. Let’s go, maybe some of the others are waiting already.”

Edited January 20, 2015 by Chimchain

[Sutoratosu]

Chimchain

"I doubt it," Argo said as Trystane approached. "Have you been keeping track of the time? We've barely spent the lesser part of an hour around here; everyone else is probably still going about their business or wandering around." He cast a glance down at the bag the hunter had been given earlier. "Besides, are you sure you have everything we need? always best to double check yourself... be a shame if you rushed off to head to the gate and in the process forgot something important, like utensils or the like..."

Perhaps the steed had a point in that... and didn't the general store clerk say something about utensils as well?

[Chevaleresse]

Matrim wandered about for a bit, trying to locate the right shop for what he desired. He decided to go for the saddlebags first, as Elimus had requested. After a few moments, he laid his eyes on a likely-looking store and moved toward it.

[Sutoratosu]

Murdoc

As he moved along the circular stone walkway spanning all around the building's circumference towards one of the notches in the wall serving as Stalls for various merchants, each complete with a complimentary counter top, table, what have you, Matrim noticed a semi-familiar face already haggling with the Stall owner. Their conversation was loud, heated even, and he could hear every word they spoke as he stood looking on.

"So you're just going to keep up this ridiculousness?" The haggler demanded. From both the anger and the annoyance in his voice, it had to be none other than Erick. "Look, I was told that store owners were instructed to relinquish supplies and equipment without charge to those who spoke that phrase; You aren't from this city, so fine, I can see how it is you can justify that it doesn't apply to you-"

"You are damn that it doesn't apply to me, boy!"

"But you could at least set a reasonable price, damn it! I'm not paying something as outrageous as 5,000 Myta for a few pieces of ridding gear that would I could go to a Leather Worker right now and personally commission for less than a fraction of that!"

"I would, but it's my philosophy to charge an arm and a leg to wealthy noble swine like yourself. Show you the plight of the poor man for once in your Highborn lives!"

"What the hell are you talking about? I've no blood of any noble house from anywhere on this continent or any other! The stuff in my veins are probably even more common than yours are!"

"My mother never raised any fools, that symbol on your hand is proof enough of your damn status; A Black, Caligraphic Hawk in flight, with a cresent at it's back- you're a marked man: Eric Vonters, the first and the lone member of the House Vonters of Crale, patented two years ago after the crisis with the Princess Elise! I've been to Crale, I've seen the capitol, I know who you are... Now if you aren't going to pay the damn price I set, get the fuck out of my stall and move on, highborn heathen!"

There was a long silence as the Highway man watched... Eric and the Merchant, an ironically plump little man of Dirosi descent bedecked in jeweled rings on either hands and fine robes embroidered with intricate design spun by desert nomads, stared at each other. Eric's fingers began to slowly crawl to his side; to the sheath for his Sycthes blade, looking more like a curved sword in it's scabbard as it hung from the leather on his belt. But instead of the weapon, Erick drew out a small sack of burlap, jingling with coin...

"What number is this stall?" He asked cryptically.

"Sixty-five," The Merchant answered. "What is it to you though?"

"Just curious..." Eric said, turning on his heels and walking away. Only then did he notice Matrim there. "I wouldn't waste my time with this one if I were you; Don't know how much of that back and forth you saw, but I'll assume it was enough to know our little... dispute here. I'm finding someone whose actually reasonable enough to deal bussiness without hurling insults like a sick infant hurls it's mother's milk," He walked past him, out towards the center of the completely walless center of the building, a circular area serving as a brazaar of sorts, merchants dressed in all type of clothes from all places in the land tending small stands. Little did Matrim know what Erick truly intended to do there though... "You're free to come with me if you want, or you can try to deal with this fat Dirosi man, it's your decision."

[Chevaleresse]

Matrim shrugged. "I'll catch up with you in a moment. I'm old, it takes me a bit to get places. I still love a lively discussion, though, so I'll try my luck over here." With that, he turned and moved up to the stall. He wondered what Eric was about to do. Nothing calm, surely. Sighing, he leaned on the counter slightly and spoke to the merchant. "Care to enlighten me as to what just happened?"

[Sutoratosu]

"IT's simple enough," the Dirosi man replied. "I saw you watching that. I know that you know what happened. He is simply another nobleman with wealth and coin that he did nothing to earn but instead was handed because of his status. He is like a theive, a scoundrel, all nobles are, from the dead household Valgiri to all the royal households ruling over nations today. They lie and they cheat the small man, take his coin and give naught but scraps of bread while they feast from gilded tables on desert turkey and giga boar and other delicacies while we wallow in the filth and abomination of poverty like swine. I have seen this very thing in so many places, so many times... and I got sick of it, my friend. I decided that if a nobleman or woman ever tries to deal with me, I will charge them 1000 fold my prices and give every coin made from the sale to those who genuinely needed. House Vonters is nothing more than an infant compared to others, it only has one member, the man Erick whom just left... but it is no exception even with it's young age and only having one person within it's name. I charge all nobles highly, regardless of who they are and whatever they say... for the common man. For that is my Alms."

He looked at Matrim, a self righteous expression on his face as he gave his speech... and the highway man couldn't help but notice the gold rings on his fingers, or his fine cloths... he looked more refined and high classed than another merchant here, so much so that one was left to wonder if he himself was not actually of noble blood...

Erick

"Tell me, miss, I see you sell leather works and rider's gear and the like," Erick began, approaching a rather short, heart faced young woman with black hair framing her porcelain skinned features and eyes like the sea itself. She wore a hooded long coat, lined with wolves fur, her attire thicker in layers than most others in the emporium. He could identify her as a northen woman without difficulty, likely from either crale or the tundras of Zresia. One could call her rather delicate features beautiful even... though Erick was always one to think exclusively with the head that held his eyes and his mind. "But yet here you are, one as beautiful and skilled at trade as yourself, sitting down here with the inductees and the inexperienced members of the emporium. my Good lady, I would be lying if I said I did not find such injustice outrageous. Please, allow me to help remedy your station..."

"What do you have in mind, snake?" The girl had asked pointedly, her eyes sharp as they pierced right through his flattery and got down to business... "You want something, and if isn't what's under my skirts, it must be coin... men are terribly easy to predict. So speak. and just to make it clear, if you are after the former, just walk away then, else I'll have you dragged out of here by half a dozen guards and charged with attempted solicitation..."

"Ah, I am correct indeed in your skill," Erick said, this time actually genuine with the compliment. "very well then, I'm sure you'll be happy to now that what I'm after is indeed coin, a proposition benefiting us both. Do you see that man over there, the fat little Dirosi prick in stall sixty five?"

"Aye, I see him" The young lady responded. "What of it?"

"That fool has just scorned the wrong damn man..." Erick said, producing the sack of golden myta coins from his belt, jingling them before the Northern merchant. "All I was seeking was his wares for a journey myself and those with me must undergo, and he belittled me and hurled insults like it was his job. so I figured, merchants like he give the Emporium a bad name, do they not? so why let him keep that Stall? Why_not out bid him for his place and gift it to someone more deserving?"

"I'm listening..." The girl said, intrigued.

"It's simple, really. I'm going to see the runner of this establishment, out pay that man's claim on his space... there is one issue though, I'm a noble man, and by law It's prohibited that I simply buy up a stall and leave it vacant without someone conducting business in it from day to day... which brings us to the deal; I will purchase the stall and endorse you as a merchant, you will enter into the employ of my household on paper, and you will be given that man's place and show him what happens when you scorn someone as volatile of temperament such as myself..."

"What percentage of the profits do I keep?" she demanded,crossing her arms over her chest. though he could tell, he'd reeled her in so far...

"all of it," He said simply. "This is about making a point, my good lady, not about actual trade for me... As far as I am concerned, you may keep every myta you make."

"T...that's all well and good..." She stammered, off guard by the ridiculously generous rate. "But... what noble house do you belong to; how do I know this isn't some trickery to screw me over? full profits, it seems far more than simply suspicious..."

"House Vonters, miss," He said, flashing the black sigil emblazoned on his palm... "I am none other than Lord Eric, The betrothed Savior of the Princess Elise."

"My god..." she gasped, shrinking away. the sharp glare in her eyes gradually gave way to...admiration? "It's...forgive my lord, it would be an absolute honor to help you bring retribution to the man who dared insult you so," She gave a small bow of her head, and Erick knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the girl was Cralish... absolutely perfect. "But please my lord, It simply would be unjust to keep the total of my profits when I uphold a name such as House Vonters with my trading..."

"Then hash out a fair amount and give it to the less fortunate you come across," Erick said, grinning at his luck. "Tell them... it is gift from Lord Vonters of Crale. and what is your name, Miss, it simply wouldn't do if I didn't know what to call the one I'm endorsing..."

"Y-yes, my lord, it shall be as you say..." She answered loyally. "My name is Fay, Fay Huso, if it please you..."

"Well then, Fay, I do believe it's time we go set my plot in motion, isn't it?"

"Indeed, my lord." With that said, the girl quickly headed to a neighboring merchant, a woman looking in about her thirties bearing the cloak of a mountain dweller. after a bit of back and forth, the older woman nodded, agreeing to watch her wares for thieves while she went to finalize things with her new employer. She returned to Erick's side the next instant and the two of them set off for the back area of the building, the area housing the study of the Emporium's management and guards... Call me an Highborn Heathen, will you you little Viper? He thought as she walked by his side. well, let's see this highborn heathen crush your head with the power of coin...and the help of a Cralish merchant...

[Chevaleresse]

Matrim gave the man a dubious look, but quickly wiped it off of his face. "I must say, you seem to be doing very well for yourself. I can't believe that nobility would patronize your fine stall often given the, ah, earlier conversation. How is it that you can give to the poor often, as you say, and yet still have enough profit left over to decorate yourself with such finery? It certainly appears that your last 'wallow in filth' was a long time ago." He said all of this with a perfectly innocent questioning tone, as if he was genuinely confused about how the man obtained his riches.

[Sutoratosu]

"Indeed it was long ago," the merchant responded, his voice darkening as he himself leaned forward a bit on the counter, eyes glinting like fire holding Matrim in their sights. "But it was a long and hard wallow, a wallow that claimed the lives of those I loved, a wallow that showed me the power that the nobility have to better the lives of those beneath them with just a bit of effort and compasion, yet do not use or even consider. A wallow that showed me the injustice in this world, regardless of whatever lies the Church spouts about peace and that all mouths are fed in this world... a Wallow, that when it was over, made me hate those who hold power but do not use it for good... a wallow that out of six children, only left myself an my older brother Abed alive. And I shall tell you of this wallowing I did." He reached to the fingers of his hand and removed the rings there; Matrim could spot three identical emblems emblazoned upon each of them, a golden hand, palm open. Two of them had strange burgundy stains... suspect of how they had been obtained. He rolled up his sleeves after the jewelry was placed on the counter, revealing arms filled with various scars long since healed, yet still jagged and ugly on the man's olive skin. Matrim could notice an abnormality on one of his elbows, as if the thing had been...broken, bent backwards, and never quite healed right. He pulled aside his robes from the center of his chest, revealing...steel... and copious amounts of leather serving as cushioning underneath it, giving the illusion of a beer belly. that was when Matrim noticed just how powerful both his arms were, gripping the table, veins bulging from his fist. And now that Matrim got good look from him leaning in as well, the fellows face was lean, pockmarked, bearded... not plump and soft like one would expect.

This man was no fat and happy bastard. He was far from it. and his gaze was all the more striking now that his features were put on better display... "Thought I was fat, didn't you?" He asked rhetorically. "Many think that upon a distant glance... think me to be fat and weak, soft. But it is merely this armor and the leather that makes me appear so... I have no choice but to wear them, with the copious amounts of highborn bastards who want the heads of those like myself... and it doesn't help that I had to comandeer it recently from a...much larger friend of mine." he readjusted his robes, concealing the gleam of the steel again. "My name is Al-akmed Machai, born in the slums of Lithania, to a weak yet nonetheless endearing mother who was eventually killed by the same worthless drunkard who spawned me and my siblings and whom me and my brothers killed immediately after he did it. Myself and my siblings were on the streets and pushed into even deeper poverty before any of us were even sixteen, had to steal and take and cheat in order to find our meals. My brother Amed was the lead, being the oldest. what he said was law, and we followed his orders... and sometimes when we did, we all got rewarded for our efforts and got lucky enough to snag something to fill our bellies for a while. If you've ever been to Lithania, you know it's the absolute worse place to be a Gamin or Gamine, even these days... the streets were paved in white stone, but bathed in the blood of the homeless and the disowned as perpetual warfare between the 'Street Families' consumed every ally way and side street.

My little sisters and young brother were not spared from the violence that started every single night around the six of us. One of them... defiled, left in the gutter, still don't know whether it was another Urchin or a pedophile who did it. Another one, Masha, or poor, little Masha, the youngest of us all... she was tricked by a boy from one of the families, and had her neck sliced by the fucker when we weren't looking... all for the scrap of bread she had found. I bashed his skull in with a lose stone when I finally found him... the last two, my younger brother Rodriguez and my sister Rheya... Rodriguez was captured by magistrates during a brawl to save Rheya, and rheya... she died of the stab wound she had taken to the gut before Rodriguez has managed to intervene... the bastards just left her body there on the streets, rodriguez hollering and screaming in rage as me and Abed finally managed to make it over... I wanted to kill them. Abed held me back and told me that it was over for our brother, and that we'd die if we tried going up against the White Cloaks. and that was how the two of us became the last ones of our little family... we were supposed to protect them, feed them, cloth them... keep them safe from the dangers around us, and yet... we were the only ones alive in the end." He leaned back out from Matrim now, standing straight as a sadness of sort glinted in his emerald eyes... reminiscent of someone that High way man couldn't quite put his finger on...

"And in a cruel twist of irony, it was me and my brother who found the way out of poverty out of the slums... we killed a few urchins who had attacked the lost son of a merchant who had wandered into the slums, told the boy to run and beat them all down with iron pipes and cracked their little skulls and sent what little brains they had splattering on the stones... and when the boy ran, he found the men his father had sent to find him. and he told them about us. And the next thing we knew, we were standing before the man in the city's main bazaar. He...made us his son's guards, made us swear to defend him in return for food and lodgings. He wasn't a well off merchant, but he was smart, and he became one before long. And me and Abed did as we had agreed to, armed with iron pipes everywhere we went with the younger boy. A street urchin never attacked him again... or at least, never attacked and lived to tell about it. Before long the boy and us became friends... and his father taught him his trade... and he taught us. and surprisingly we grew closer to the merchant himself as well... until one day his boy came down with a wasting disease. Died in a month. He was distraught, incoherent, filled with grief by the loss of his son and only child... he had no one to carry on what he had built from the ground up, no one to take over when he died. No one...that is... except us." He paused as he noticed someone else watching them in the stall. His eyes hardened a bit as he glanced back and forth between Matrim and the newcomer.

"What do you want?" he demanded from the woman. Her face was rather unremarkable, as were her clothing and body. in fact, it seemed as though everything about her was meant to blend into a crowd...a whisper monger.

"I come for their rings," she said simply, reaching into her shirt and producing a necklace bearing a golden ring identical to the ones in Al-akmed's possession. His eyes softened a bit as he tossed them to her, the woman catching them nimbly with mere blurs of her fingers, stowing them inside her sleeves. "May Brother Zocaris and Sister Tamaya know peace..."

"And may we make all the damn nobles bleed gold," Akmed replied. the woman nodded approvingly, and then produced a letter from her person next, tossing it to the merchant in return for the jewelry. and then she was gone like the wind, not making a sound when she turned and walked away.

"To make a long story shorter," Akmed continued, this time to matrim as he began to fiddle with the seal. "Me and my brother took the reigns of the merchant's business, having learned much from his son we were finally fully out of poverty... but we both remembered it. An agreement was struck between us, we'd split the caravan down the middle, Abed getting one half, and myself getting the other. time went on... we joined an order of sorts... a Merchant's order, made up of those like us, risen from the unforgiving streets. The gold hands, we called ourselves, and we wanted only one thing; to make the Nobility of the continent pay for the plight of the slums. They had money. they had influence. they had resources. they could've helped so many just by lifting a finger... but they didn't. they sat in their estates and didn't give two damns about anyone but themselves... children like myself and my brothers were dying out there, and they saw this constantly... and always just swept it under the rug of obscurity. and so we'll ensure they pay, one way...or another." The seal finally broke, Akmed beginning to unroll the parchment. "Of course, there are obviously many enemies to our cause... many noble enemies. They kill us whenever they can get an opportunity, you know, hire death squads, sell swords and assassins to murder us... just like they did my brother ten years ago along with his wife and children. the Five of them, Abed, his wife Milaha, the oldest boy, Augustus, his younger twin brother Thabit... and even his young daughter Esmerelda. all five disappeared into thin air while Abed was out on official business for our group... the magistrates say that they were likely taken by the desert, by the sun and the heat... but I knew better."

The crinkle of the paper was loud as he brought it to full length, eyes beginning to scan it's contents. "I knew that it was not the dessert that took my brother and his family... but instead was probably a Death Squad hired by a noble."

[Chevaleresse]

Matrim's expression darkened with sorrow for a moment. It might have been years ago, but the loss was still fresh. It would never leave him, truly. The man's speech had simply brought it to the front of his mind. Coming back to the ruin of his home and finding. . . "I had no idea. I know your pain, however." Shaking his head, he returned himself to the present. "There are more pressing issues facing us tonight, however. I think that our noble friend has decided to do something foolish. I happen to be working with him on a quest that is rather important, and those supplies he mentioned were for our entire group, commoners and noble." He shrugged. "Young men are rash." He peered at the letter, not able to help the curiosity the bard still retained. "What is that, anyway?"

[Sutoratosu]

"Orders," Al said simply, rerolling the parchment and tucking it into his over sized steel mail in between one of the leather jerkins he used for extra protection. "Seems my fellow brothers and sisters of the Gold have come across something very interesting... I am needed by them at once. Which means I must get rid of this stall..."

"Waliid Restir?" a sudden, gruff voice inquired. Silent as the wind, somehow able to sneak up on them within just moments of their conversing... guards, decked out in full steel armor, spears at their sides, some of them holding shields bearing the proprietor mark of Emporium- They came in a half dozen, each one taking a position in a semi circle around the stall. Exit was unthinkable.

"I answer to Waliid," Al said, glaring. "What do you want of a simple leather and cloth merchant? Surely whatever issue there is, we can resolve it without you drawing your steel like this..."

"There's where we might differ, you see," A young, familiar voice this time. The armored men parted the way- and lo and behold, twas none other than Eric... and some rather attractive northern girl, maybe in her early twenties, maybe a bit younger. "This stall is under new management, Waliid. You, quite frankly, are evicted, gone, banished..." Waliid said nothing, merely starring with an expression like stone. "Nothing to say, eh? alright... I can do all the talking here myself. Now, to clarify what this is all about; I do believe that not very long ago at all, you called me... what was it, Fay?"

"A Highborn Swine, my lord." The girl answered.

"A yes, Highborn Swine... that was indeed it. I take serious offense to that for several reasons, but I'll be efficient here and only list the top ones. Number 1- get your god forsaken facts right before you go calling me just another blue blood who has had everything handed to him, you ignorant fool. I was born in the god forsaken slums of this very city, I watched my mother die slowly and painfully of a wasting disease while I could only sit there and witness her agony, hating myself everyday and night for not being able to help her, for lacking whatever power I needed to save her..." He began making a few short paces towards the two... and Matrim could feel a strange... almost tingling sensation in the air. it was faint, but...

"Number 2," Eric continued. "Like I just said, I wasn't born into nobility, I had to acquire it the hard way; through my own actions and deeds, not that of some long dead ancestor. The only reason I'm a "Lord" now is because I went to Crale two years ago and did something all thought nigh impossible; I cured the Princess Elisia of her dire affliction... The king practically smothered me in gratitude, damn near forced me to take a Patent of Nobility from him, he was so thankful. I did not ask for this position, I was offered it and put in a situation where refusal would've been a disaster for myself."

"And your third reason?" Al asked preemptively, face still cold as stone as he crossed his arms.

"My third reason is that I'm not some spoiled little man with servants to wipe his ass, I have no keep, no official land, and no sworn agents or swords. The only thing that honestly denotes me as a Noble in terms of power is my wealth, which I don't even dip into to live on... I'm a doctor, you royal fucktard, I get down in the slums and the rat infested shit holes and I help people who need it. I hold the keys to life and death, and when Death comes knocking, I lock the door against him for those under my charge. I am a warden to the sick and the dying, damnit! Someone who gives themselves more to others than he does to himself! And to sit here, and have some old shit who crawled out of the Desert with all his harsh judgement and presumptions call me an uncaring, stereotypical nobleman who sits on high and watches as the world suffers... I makes me fucking sick, do you understand?" He was right. In. Al's. Face. But the Dirosi man only scoffed.

"It may well be that you are not a noble of typical trappings and deeds," He retorted, whispering with a rock hard calm in the face of Eric's obvious fury. "But it doesn't change the fact that your children and their children will grow to be spoiled, entitled, and cold... that is the fate of all noble houses, they may start of good, great even, yes, but over time they always fall into the trappings of greed. the trappings of gluttony and of envy. They always fall to darkness. History has proven time and time again, boy, get that fact in your head... because it's only a matter of time before your little loin monkeys are going around being complete monsters."

"I'm more or less sterile, for your information," He snarled quietly. "All Apothecaries of the High Guild are... now get out of my damn stall, you've been out bought in this venture."

"Wait...wait..." Al couldn't help but chuckle... how sweetly ironic. "You bought this stall? out of your anger at me?" Full laughter this time, hearty, dry, like a desert herb in the mid summer. "You damn fool of a nobleman! you actually bought this shit hole? Oh, you have no idea... how badly you've erred if you were looking for vengeance." With that said, the Dirosi man moved from behind the counter and retreived a simple pack from a hook on the wall, slinging it over his shoulder as he gleamed amused at the young lord. "Though fine, perhaps you can be an exception to our rule, given that your bloodline begins and will most undoubtedly die with you. I'll tell them to spare the young Lord Vonters when the Gold War starts. If you gentleman would be so kind as to move now... oh," He glanced back at matrim as he moved towards the soldiers, a gleam in his eye still. "And regarding the supplies, you may take whatever you need from this stall... it's all supplied by my brothers and sisters of the gold anyway. This was merely a front."

The guards parted as he got closer, eyes peeled to ensure he didn't turn around and try something... Eric on the other hand was the one who needed watching- His palms were cloaked in fire, crimson as blood and dark as murky night, the flickering light bathing the entire area as Matrim watched the man draw back one arm and prepare to fire something, the power congealing at his finger tips and forming into a miniature sphere of hell fire in his grasps. The smell of sulfur and brimstone wafted through the air. The Highway man could feel the intensity of the heat making his skin sweat... and crawl. The guards, needless to say, noticed quite readily the spectacle, each of them scrambling out of the way as they saw him taking aim.

"I'm so damn tired... of the same fucking simpletons making the same fucking assumptions about me because of a damn title..." He snarled... though a sweat broke out on his face... the fire began to die, flicker like caught in a wind storm. His fingers began twitching, destroying his grasp.

The hell fire scattered into nothing but shards of pure scarlet in the air, fiery embers burning away into nothing as he let out a sigh and dropped his arm back to his side, shaking his head. "But... if I resort to such things as I wanted to just now... I only prove them right. and that would be an ultimate victory for some of them, even in death."

"Um...m-my lord..." The girl, Fay, asked, peaking from around the corner of the Stall's opening along with a few soldiers. "What would you have me do now... it seems things backfired..."

"Thank you for that insightful statement, Fay..." He sighed sarcastically. "Take some of these soldiers, go and get your wares and transport them to this stall... Our deal still stands more or less."

"Very well then, my lord..." She gave slight bow and then she was gone, along with half the guards Eric had brought. Only the two men remained in the space...

"I'm curious though," Eric said after a few moments of silence. When he turned to matrim, his eyes still held a cold fury that was beginning to become his main, overwhelmingly prominent characteristic. "What exactly did you and that Desert rat talk about, Matrim?"

[Chevaleresse]

"How that particular merchant grew up in the slums while his family died around him, only managing to escape because he bashed the brains of some fools attacking a merchant's son," Matrim said flatly. "I saw his scars with my own two eyes. I also saw the layers of armor underneath his robes." He shook his head. "Didn't you notice that the man's face was nowhere near matching his apparent bulk? Honestly, glare at me all you want, but you just acted like the stereotypical highborn child. You were denied something you wanted, so you tried to ruin his livelihood simply for some brief personal satisfaction, and then when it backfired you were ready to fucking murder the man." Matrim returned the man's hard stare. "Don't be offended when a horse is called a horse."

[Sutoratosu]

He stood there for a good while, Gaze locked with Matrim's glare, Eyes cold as Polar Glass. There was complete silence between the two of them, both men simply standing there, engaged in a duel of wills, of perspectives... and all the while Eric played through his actions in his mind, seeing for the first time how blind his anger and chargrin at the man's insults had made him act. He had thought he'd been driven by logic while he'd been going about it, that he couldn't be faulted for his course... but now, with the fog of rage beginning to slowly ebb... he realized how petty and childish he'd been- Not to even mention incredibly stupid; the damn stall had cost most of his emergency fund, and god knows how much that could have come in handy on this journey... That wasn't revenge. That wasn't retribution...

"It was pure and utter stupidity..." He admitted to himself, turning away from the Highway man and shaking his head in spite of himself. "You're absolutely right... This title destroys my character even as I deny it does; In my rash anger at a few mere words, I allowed myself to become the very type of individual whom I'm always so vehemently claiming I'm not to people, Abused the power of coin and tried to ruin a man, in the process squandering a good portion of a wealth stash that could've easily saved all our lives at some point in the future during the journey... and then when all failed, I was about to commit the crime of Sorcery and kill that man like a coward as he walked away from me."

"So you see it yourself then?" Said a semi-familiar voice. Gilwyn approached from where he leaned against the opening of the alcove, Eyes glued to Eric as he removed his hands from the pockets of his torn coat. Obviously he'd been there for a while. A complex bit of Illsuionary magic had kept him out of sight up until now, though given how things had begun to sprial at the end, He'd decided to drop it... just encase intervention was needed.

"I saw the entirety of that little interaction Vonters..." He continued. "luckily you had enough control to refrain at the end, but even still, there remains the fact that you allowed yourself to even get that far in the first place..." He turned his attention to Matrim, no expression at all on his stone cold face. "From what I was told by this "Rossephus" and the pope and basically everyone and everyone's mother after myself and the others were captured- There are great and dark times lying in the future... times that for some reason, our little party is needed to help resolve on a favorable note. And if we're to somehow do that, yet the man who apparently installed himself as leader since the incident earlier is so rash and vengeful with just the slightest provocation as he was just now..." He trailed off, hoping the older man would get what he implied: Eric needed to be removed from his place, someone else would need to lead from now on- for a rabid dog was nothing but a danger to everyone.

[Chevaleresse]

He gave a slight shake of his head, catching the implied suggestion. "I understand your point, but who among us is actually suited for the job? Myself? That'd be a fine joke. At least we have a man here who wants to lead. It's also not as if he exerts some sort of total contol over our wills." He turned to Eric. "That being said, I do question your ability to make decisions for a group of people. That's what a noble title is supposed to be for, is it not? A responsibility, a marking that you are capable of doing the right thing. And that, my friend, was not."

[Sutoratosu]

"Indeed... with the fog of my anger gone, I can see that now..." Eric agreed. "And you are right, it's more than just a political title... While true, ideally nobles are supposed to be their namesake from the first member of their line until the last, what meaning does this title have when it was one of either two choices given to a man; with the other being death for dishonoring a king by refusing?"

"It means the exact same thing," Gilwyn interjected, sounding a bit annoyed. "Whether a ruler hands you the patent over a glass of wine at celebration banquet or they hand you it while they hold a sword to your throat; You are still bound by honor and basic Ethos to act as your title suggests, Nobly..." He moved past Eric and walked behind the counter, beginning to the check the carved spaces in the wood holding supplies. He made no eye contact as he began placing gear he knew they would need on the wood slab. "But...you show something that most misbehaving nobles do not; the ability to see the wrong and the hypocrisy of your actions. You recognize your misconduct and are ashamed by it, and you see that it is your anger that's the root of why you acted that way... and so perhaps you will be able to learn from this."

By the time he was done, a good dozen saddles were on the counter, along with saddle bags, large, leather satchels reinforced with wood bracings on the front, looking as if they could just as well serve as personal inventory carriers. Gilwyn straightened himself, leaning forward on the counter and looking at Eric. "But do not allow this mistake to be repeated, Vonters... in the fight we're getting involved in, making the same errors again and again will get us killed before we can stop anything at all. Understand, boy?" Eric said nothing, merely nodding his head though he looked a bit annoyed at being called 'Boy'. "Good," Said Gilwyn. "Where are the others then? Time is a commodity we don't have."

"I sent Aaron and Cesealia to get maps," The apothecary answered. "The Dirosi man, Rodriguez, and the woman Esmerelda each headed off somewhere on their own... as for the rest of them, I've no idea, but I told them all to meet at the north gate in about an hour's time..."

[K_H]

Ko'luki came back to the Counter in the Shop, having gotten the Supplies he needed, which gave him what he needed for the next few weeks. he then put 50 Myta on the counter, and spoke.

"Keep it. I still want to give you some money, even if you're giving the supplies to me for free."

the Wyrm-fire ingredients were in his bag, but any other supplies and any equipment that he'd taken had been stored in the Magic Toad. Ko'luki then headed out of the Shop, bringing Wind Tracer and the Toad with him. He then rode to the Northern Gate, and waited for the others to arrive.

[Sutoratosu]

Ko'luki

He could see no one else present at the gates when he arrived- no one save a handful of guards on patrol... or rather they should've been patrolling, instead of getting drunk in the small shack just to the right of the gaping, massive wooden doors. The slabs of blackened mahogany stood open to the night, the higher peaks of the Range visible in the distance along with the north star, blazing bright in the heavens like some strange beacon. The guards and their drinking games could be hear loud and clear in the crisp night air; mostly bouts of cursing and laughter with slurred talk, the occasionally clang of their cups piercing through now and again.

It was something besides the intoxicated merriment and liquor driven dereliction of duty that drew his attention however. He thought it had been nothing more than a stray shadow in the light of the street lamps (Which themselves were filled with some strange magic rather than actual fire, tiny balls of flaring red and orange roiling within their glass prisons and casting flickering luminescence all around), but upon closer inspection he could see the clear outline of a man in the distance- what looked to be a spear stowed across his back, seeming to be holding something out in his hand and scanning the ground...

*****

Maximus

Nothing here as well... just as it had been the entire time; the Evochium was dark as death. At least that settled it, he could get back to the shop now, get what he needed and give the rock back to it's owner. Maximus couldn't help but wonder though; what exactly was Muinnat? He knew of what weapons made from it could supposedly do- everyone did, it was such a common urban myth: They cut through bone steel flesh and even some stones as if they were paper, withstand almost any blow or impact, held their edges and shape indefinitely, and from even a few accounts, were said to be able to strengthen or deflect magicks. He'd seen them a few times, hanging on the belts of an Arch Magistrate or two, swords red as fresh blood and glistening like it too, but yet, he had never figured out how one could possibly work a metal which could resist the strike of a thousand hammers, how one could try to shape and mold an ore that was so heat resistant that it could rest in a bonfire for an entire day and night and emerge without even a trace of warping.

That's when a rather strange thought came into his mind... What if they used some kind of magic to do it? Hell, he'd seen more and more of the stuff as the night had progressed, things that could not possibly be explained away as being the Spheres, first some demon-god-man being called forth at the resurrection, then the Sky Slayer's Immortality, untouched by the ravages of the lustful hands of time (Which he still felt a bit of thrill and pride from having actually seen proof of firsthand), then an entire city somehow being engulfed in Light that acted more like water and burned all that it touched like Fire... then the demon who had appeared afterwards and captured the only members of their group who even knew anything about what the ever loving hells was going on in the world... Nix somehow existing, steeds who could make a weeks long trips in mere minutes or hours with the power of darkness and shadows... ravens who could apparently make ice rain from the heavens...

It was actually a bit overwhelming now that he had thought about it, taken the time to really sit down and go over everything he'd seen, everything he'd experienced since entering the gates of that now dead city just hours ago. What did it all really mean? why had this... this seemingly jumbled and unearthly series of events just suddenly popped up left and right all over the place; turning all that was right on it's side and all that was left top-to-bottom? He'd been so ready to kill Rossephus, still was so ready for it; but he'd never actually stopped and asked... what the fuck is going on? Why did he need to kill the demon- because of how his lance had spoken out of nowhere and urged him to help the Sky Slayer? perhaps... but aside from that, aside from how he'd been presented the man as being some dire enemy from the very beginning... Maximus had to admit he honestly didn't know why death was seemingly the only way. And now he found himself standing there and questioning the one thing he'd refrained from; Why hadn't he himself thought about this? why had he so blindingly taken the words of others- while yes, in their honest defense, what they were saying to him at the time had been very much backed up by the appearance of certain circumstances. When you're told a man is a monster and afterwards see him send a piece of rubble tumbling to crush a crowd below and make another man choose whether to attack and kill him and save the people... would one not think they were speaking true? But then there was this whole business here... he'd seemed to be the complete and polar opposite of how he'd been before; the monster could've killed him and the others at any moment, could've taken them with daggers to their throats and ballistaes to their backs and had them at his mercy. And yet what had he done? He had not only returned those members he'd kidnapped, but... had also seemingly tried to genuinely warn them about something. He didn't know what the hell that something could be, but it definitely was a great and dark something.

He was confused to be honest, vexed, conflicted. He'd simply gone with the flow, let the words of others guide where he point his spear for basically this entire night, he had barely given any deeper examination to things, even after leaving the plaza, but now... He simply didn't know what to think. On one hand, one could cite everything done in Cithalos as proof for one argument, while on the other; one could also cite the events of their visit to this city as proof for the other...

"Enough," He said, turning his back to the night and heading back towards the gates. All this business wasn't his fancy, he was a man of action, not silly ponderings, damn it... that was work for the sickly scholars and bookworms who couldn't hold a sword right even to save their lives; for fools like that little freak Aaron... "It makes no damn sense... just, enough. I've a stone to return."

*****

Octavia

For yet the second time tonight, she was met with a surprising message on the pages. And even it was even better than the first one; this time the scathing rebuttal was written in a language she couldn't even read. Just a bunch of glyphs and dots scattered on the yellowed surface of the parchment in shifting black ink like the earlier one.

"Figures..." She said dissapointedly as she closed the tomb and returned it to her bag with the locked book the Misanthropic excuse for an Angel had gifted her as well. Alright, yes, while some people would think it rather rude to go peeking in the man's private writings again, she had let her curiosity trump her sense of courtesy- she simply couldn't resist the nagging urge to take another gander... especially after hearing Zartanna call it a "Grimoire" whatever that was; It sounded like something that would be related to magic though, and while yes, she could've gone to Aaron or the man called Gilwyn and likely gotten an answer for them... well she was a bit vexed around Aaron, or Divinius or whatever the hell his real name is, to tell the truth. Things simply don't make sense when he's around; Demons break into homes and boil men alive and voluptuous women with wings black as night appear out of nowhere and hand young Apothecaries strange, mystically locked and previously stolen books along with cryptic warnings and plenty of insults to her kind. And Gilwyn... He was a high ranking member of the church, or had been rather, that much she knew, and apparently he'd had some type of past involving that highwayman who had helped her treat Eric's wounds... but aside from that, she was completely in the dark about the man. And something about him seemed... otherworldly to her, not quite the same way Divinius and the strange happenings did, but more in a... transecdent way. A dangerous way. Like the man knew so much more than he ever gives any sign of, like he sees things, hears things he should not... almost like he holds some power that could destroy any of them if he so wished to apply it to that end. And he intimidated her a bit for that very reason, the fear of the possibility of death, the fear that makes children cling to their mothers skirts instinctively at the slightest bump in the night, the fear that harries old men and women in their deathbeds and makes their hearts cry in grief in their final moments, the fear that can either drive or break soldiers in the field, the fear...

"Young lady, are you alright?" said a concerned, dirosi accented voice. She looked left and right, only to realize it's owner was behind him. Rodriguez raised an eyebrow as she turned, a leather satchel filled with donated supplies slung across his chest and hanging at his right side. "You seemed to be have swaying on your feet for a moment- it looked like you were going to collapse in the street..."

"What? Oh, oh no, I'm fine..." She said, not even realizing how far her thoughts had taken her down the rabbit hole of her own mind. "T-thank you for the concern though, really..." She trailed off though, realizing she'd actually been walking while trying to make sense of Eric's glyphs. This part of the city looked nothing like the surroundings she'd been in just a good half hour ago... instead of stone houses and narrow streets it was all on some broad avenue with a massive domed building dominating it all, columns and pillars holding up the impressive outer edifice and massive doors barring the way to countless goods from all over Rajom- and possibly from lands even beyond the continents shores...

"Um... where?"

"From what I have been told," Rodriguez said, not bothering to let her finish the obvious question. "This is the emporium as the city dwellers call it. Supposedly it has merchants and individuals from all across the land holding dealings within it's halls." He took his eyes of the grand building and returned his sight to the girl. "And you look rather familiar... were you not one of those in the company of Maximus?"

((Murdoc, they're basically right outside the emporium's entrance. You're free to walk out into the scene if you want; Eric and Gilwyn would be helping carry the saddles and bags outside to put the stuff on Elimus's back and let him carry it to the gates))

[K_H]

Ko'luki was intrigued by the mysterious figure, but approached it cautiously despite his extreme curiosity, ready to ride Wind Tracer back to the Gates if he needed to.

Edited February 3, 2015 by K_H

[Sutoratosu]

Kenny

Wind Tracer gave a few mumbles of dissatisfaction at Ko'Luki's pace, though reluctantly keeping in step behind the man as he moved slow as a hobbled midget. The figure before them stopped when the sound of clopping hooves reached his ears. Without a single word he directed his attention over to the alchemist, seemingly recognizing him.

"You," Maximus began. "You were one of the ones at the Ceremony after that beast Rossephus ran away, weren't you?" Meanwhile the stone in his hand was beginning to glow, though it was faint. the Ekarder seemed not to even realize it as he scanned the man up and down, attempting to deduce if he'd mistaken him for another or not...

[K_H]

Ko'luki nodded, speaking to the mysterious man.

"That is indeed the case."

Then, Ko'luki noticed the glow coming off of the Stone the man was holding, recognizing the man to be the Ekarder he'd met at the Altar in the light given off by the stone. However, his attention was caught more by the stone than the Man.

"Say... what is that stone you're holding, and why is it glowing in that peculiar color?"

Edited February 12, 2015 by K_H

[Sutoratosu]

Kenny

"The boy called it evochium," Maximus said, looking down curiously at the stone and just now noticing it's luminescence. "I was told that the closer it gets to the metal Muinnat, the stronger it's color becomes-" He gave Ko'Luki the once over, noting the various tools on the man's person, the fusil, the crossbow, among other things, and especially the bag- he'd seen his type plenty of times before back home

"Aren't you an Alchemist, though?" He asked, a bit guarded... something wasn't adding up here.... "One who spends all day toiling with stone and metal, nonstop, all year? So why am I explaining rocks to you then?" he honestly didn't want to have to deal with an imposter or any more mind fuckery, all things considered tonight, but if he had to...

[K_H]

Ko'luki nodded again, and spoke.

"Yes, I am an Alchemist. However, I tend to deal more with Wyrm-fire than with Metals and Rocks, although I have been using more Copper and Zinc in the past six months. And on that note, I'd like to clear things up a bit if they seem foggy. There are multiple kinds of Alchemists out there. Some work more along the lines of the Alchemy Legends that we all know about, while others deal with more down-to-rojamaris cutting-edge technology. I am of the latter group of Alchemists. I work mostly on the Miniaturization of Wyrm-Fire Weapons than on Transmutation. In the last six months, however, i've branched out a bit into the study of a recent discovery of mine- something that I call 'Bottled Lightning'. it's this that has caused me to use more Copper and Zinc than usual."

Ko'luki then paused momentarily, smiling bemusedly.

"As a matter of fact, I'm actually not all that good with Geology for an Alchemist. I never really needed it for my work."

Edited February 17, 2015 by K_H

[Sutoratosu]

Kenny

"Uh huh..." Maximus replied, not really caring about the subject matter Ko'Luki went on. The answer seemed genuine enough though, so he guessed there was no real threat for the time being... there was still the matter of the Evochium piece, however. "Well, that's all well and good, but I've got an errand to finish, so I'll be seeing you." With that said he turned away and walked past the Man and his black steed, heading back down the street underneath those magicked lamps. before long it was only Ko'Luki standing there with his mount. But just because the Ekarder hadn't had any interest in his words, didn't mean someone else didn't...

"I have two questions for you, loudman," Windtracer said after the other man had disappeared in the distance, turning to face his rider " One; What exactly is this "Bottled Lightning" you spoke of- and Two; would it make me fast as thunder instead of just fast as the wind like it's name makes me think it could?"

((That's your name in his eyes, by the way, soldier; Loudman- get used to it.))

[K_H]

Ko'luki chuckled at his Wind Tracer's question, and then spoke.

"I'll answer both your questions, speedy."

Ko'luki then took one of his HED sparkers off of his belt, showing it to the Shadow Steed.

"This is Bottled Lightning."

Ko'luki then made it Activate, producing a small, sharp snap and a small glint of blue light from it when the spark jumped between the Copper and the Zinc prongs.

"And as for the second question: It could, but it would be quite painful."

[Sutoratosu]

Kenny

"Hmph... how disappointing then. I honestly hoped it would look more like... those, over yonder-" Wind tracer nodded his head towards the various street lights illuminating the sloped way, their tiny yet vibrant fires dancing ever so elegantly. "Bottled fire, magic from the days of old...beautiful, fierce, fast and free, all of it waiting to be unleashed in some glorious burst of destruction and light... and nice to look at even besides... but this "Bottled Lighting" it's simply two bits of metal and a few sparks... how boring." He began to fixate on one of the nearer ones as he spoke infact. the flames reflected in his black pupils... he turned back to Ko'Luki, a look of mischief and reckless abandon there. "Actually, Loudman, why don't you get on my back, and I'll trot you over to one..." The implications needed not to be voiced.

was stealing magic fire even a crime though?