Spirits of the Earth

The Duke of Vythe sat in the midst of a public garden, the duke's long legs crossed calmly upon the blanket spread before him- an assortment of small gears and copper oddities spread before him neatly as well as a picnic basket. The man seemed rather out of place in the warm, spring evening, with bees humming and butterflies darting to and fro, desperately seeking the last of the blooms before autumn began its heavy and fast descent into winter. He should have been in a library, hunched over a desk in the dim light of a candle.

Using a finger to carefully push the spectacles up his nose once more, he carefully spun the small device in his palm, holding whatever small device has piqued his interest this day. Today, it seemed to be a copper spider, laying on its back with its needle-like legs pointed skyward as he carefully pricked its brassy innards. His expression was as unmoved as ever, even at the soft laughter from nearby- though he bothered to look up, focusing upon the young woman dancing nearby.

" Lux rubrum albo potestatem dissolvit ut glaciem~
Et intrabit in urbe, sicut ex Mortuus~"

An auburn-haired youth spun gracefully, the deep blue of her gown reflecting the light in iridescent shimmers- her long sleeves that went far beyond her hand flickering like wings as she spun gracefully- reaching for the sky as she sang in some language. Her gentle ringlets bouncing as she gracefully swept over the shorn grass, the very epitome of artistic beauty and grace in each sweeping movement of the sleeves.

" Rex tremendae majestatis,
Qui salvandos salvas gratis~
Salve me, Fons Pietatis-!
Salve me, Fons Pietatis-!"

Elenoir had managed to drag her brother from their inn into the outside world, a victory for the young woman as she twirled and danced, ending her dance by fluttering to her knees in a pool of silk and sleeves. She looked up hopefully, catching her brother's gaze- frowning faintly as he focused back upon his creation. He never smiled.

Nor would he ever. Daemion briefly reached into a raggedy pocket, grasping a handkerchief which he briefly wipes beneath his nose. This is why he didn't work outdoors, too much glare, too much sound, too much distraction... Not to mention pollen. At least he didn't sneeze, it always knocked his spectacles askew.

Young Elenoir slowly stood, the oddly sewn dress exposing her slender, pale shoulders as she drew herself up, carefully gathering the long sleeves as she made her way back over to him- her dearest older brother. Alas, the young woman paused, stopping short as she looked up, the setting sun cast lovely and long shadows across the garden, yet one didn't look like the others. Was it another person?

The gardens were quiet, as the sun settled in the west and the shadows stretched out their lengthened fingers, sweeping across the grounds and casting odd shapes upon the soft turf. The birds were mostly silent, the threat of rain looming to the north as the breeze continued to blow, ever presently, from the highlands. No doubt, come morning, the streets would be turned to mud and mess as the rain beat down in torrents, the thunderclouds that lingered just out of range speaking of such weather.

For now, Allion (http://www.spiritsoftheearth.net/smf/index.php?topic=23650.0) basked in the calm before the storm, leaned against the sturdy trunk of a willow, bowed from age, and carrying a heavy curtain of green that would, eventually, see its limbs snapped and broken. For nothing was timeless. All things were carried through the current of time, be it upon a raft made of ever dubious planks, or a secure freighter, plowing gently along on its voyage to unknown locations. All things but he, it seemed.

Glancing upwards through the bent branches, he observed the sky, streaked in arrays of gold and orange, pink and blue, in silence. There was one other who never seemed to bow to the will of time; the hand of Mother Nature creating a current all her own, individualised for each living thing, even those that did not have sentient thought, nor reason or rhyme. She was a curious thing to behold, indeed.

Soft music drifted to his ears, a harmonious voice lilting on the evening breeze. Foreign words one might no expect to hear in a voice so young. He remained unmoved, letting the song wash over him, settle a quiet sense of peace in his heart for the moment. All to soon, it seemed, the silence fell back into place, but with quietly stirred curiosity, he chose to move away from his hidden place, moving towards the source of the song.

A young girl, as he had thought, soft features and flowing clothes, long hair and a gentle smile. He made no effort to hide himself, remaining stationed between two tall trees as her gaze fell upon him, the shadows cast by the failing sun smothering half his profile from view in any case. Still, he waited for her, or her silent companion of greased fingers and tiny, metallic items, to speak first.

Elenoir was the first to notice the white haired and serious figure from where she sat in a pool of blue silk and sleeves- the man simply watched them and in turn, Elenoir watched him. Daemion, of course, was oblivious to the world but his tiny creation - the small spider-like creature's leg twitching once before falling still. Damn. He was close, this one was nearly finished, his little Spy-der. If only Elenoir had left him alone it would have been completed an hour ago... But he loved her far too much to ever allow her to simply pout when he said no.

Alas, his little sister rose to her feet, carefully bringing one arm over her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun as she gazed rather blatantly back at the man - one hip slightly jutted out. In that instance, she took on the visage of a rather beautiful and dynamic painting. A girl in blue foreign-dress, arm shielding her face in shadow as long sleeves hang from her hands akin to wings. The garden was hued gold, the glowers gilded now with the dying sun's light and the reflection of the leaves that had begun to fall. Creatures flew hither and thither, dipped in gold and brass. Ah- what a sight, what a beautiful sight.

" Hello," she calls out to the stranger, keeping her face hidden though her silken voice ran as clear as a mountain stream. A lovely soprano note that drifted to Allion, offered warmth and affection to all- including a stranger.

She was slight and fair, the dark blue dress fluttering around her in the breeze like a flame from a candle. Her voice was haunting, yet heartening at the same time, washing a sense of quiet warmth over him while at the same time raising goosebumps on his flesh. Beauty embodied in voice.

He shook off the foolish notion quickly, jerking his head up and slightly to the side to be rid of the long, white strands blown into his face. The boy did not move, his attention focused solely on the item hidden within his palms, but he girl raised a hand, blocking the dying sunlight from her eyes.

"Hello," she called, a pleasant smile on her lips. He took a breath, inhaled the crispness of the autumn air, the smell of leaves, rotting where they had fallen, mingled with the scent of freshly cut grass and the tangy aroma of the various flowers spread through the garden.

"Hello, indeed." He replied, taking a few steps forwards, removing himself from the shadows. It had been a while since he had really spoken with another human being, interactions limited to informants and hunters, less than reputable, all of them. Perhaps this would be...nice.

"Pardon my intrusion," he offered next, glancing at the boy again. Boy. Ha. When had he become so cynical? The male counterpart to the fair woman before him was evidently well into his middle years, an adult in his own right, but so very young by all comparisons, "I couldn't help but overhear your performance."

Elenoir smiles faintly, lowering her hand to hide her small smile behind the blue silken sleeve- the blowing wind causing her choclate ringlets to bounce and flutter over her shoulders, causing the sleeves to snap akin to banners as he approaches. She made no move to meet him half way, but did not seem frightening in the least by his presence, her bright eyes glittering with youthful, naive light," Thank you-" she calls quietly in turn, tilting her head to one side, her voice nigh inaudible from the distance at which the two were parted, but nonetheless... Hypnotic

" I hope it pleased you, sir?" She inquires, lowering her hand just beneath her chin, blinking slowly as she takes in the odd man. He was dressed casually yet, it seemed his clothing seemed worn from more then simple outings, there was a... Weight of fatigued upon his shoulders she could sense but not see. Her naivety, innocence wished her a few steps forward, approaching him fearlessly most from an unconscious desire to comfort whatever weighed upon the stranger. She paused, not upon the path but several feet from the gravel route- keeping her lips hidden behind the sleeve as she gazed at him with bright, green eyes.

From the corner of his eye, Daemion noted his dearest sister's movement, slowly looking up- squinting against the dying fire of the celestial orb. He could barely make out the silhouette of his sister and another... Who could be bother them? Ah- he knew she shouldn't have sung in public, it would likely draw undesirable company, and he could barely stand 'adequate' company as it was.

The wind caught at her strange dress, pulling the long sleeves away like banners, streaming waves of blue against the stark orange background. A picture square scene, were he an artist. But he was not, and so he only made an effort to commit the sight to memory for his own pleasure, a quiet peace brought to him by the tranquil beauty in it.

He inclined his head slightly, long unused ettiquite drifting back to him as he dipped his chin and eyes for a moment, before straightening and offering a slight smile, "You sing well, for one so young. I have not heard such a song in many years." He replied truthfully, his mind shifting briefly to a face, similarly young and happy, frame by dark blond locks and sparkling with the intensity of warm hazel eyes. He brushed such thoughts aside quickly, choosing to focus on the here and now as he tilted his head slightly, not failing to notice the unimpressed gaze of her companion.

"May I ask your name, young one?"

" You have heard it?" She was surprised, the song was known as the City of Winter, a song far older then she that detailed the rise and fall of a king of the land which it originated from. Her green eyes searched his face, scars littered his skin. Poor man...

" Elenoir d'al Astarot-" she hums in response, the words almost thrumming like a hymn as she lowers her hand again, this time resting her arm about her stomach, resting the hand upon her opposite hip as she uses her free hand to push the dark locks from her face," And you, sir?" She smiled faintly, cherry lips curling into a lovely little smile.

He dipped his head again in answer, "Indeed, but I have not heard it performed for many passings." He replied, folding his hands together behind his back. Somehow, despite her complete foreignness to him, this young woman managed to make him feel at ease, at peace. Her pleasant demeanour and smile like the sun warmed him in a way he had not known for many decades.

The name she offered sounded vaguely familiar, as though it should contain some hidden meaning for him, a clue as to what she was, besides an extremely talented singer, but for the present it eluded him. "Alliondrai, young one, though you may call me Allion."

" Allion-" she pauses after saying his name, again she echoed it," Alliondari," as if tasting it, testing it upon her tongue and finding the flavor and sound incredibly pleasant and she focuses back upon him, hesitating for a moment, she tilts her head. He seemed kind enough, he had... A beautiful little smile that caused her heart to flutter pleasantly. She slowly extends a hand to him, emerald irises shining gold with the fading light," My brother, Daemion- he is sitting over there-" she extends one hand over toward the man was hunched. Still her worked busily, no longer concerned with his dearest sister's safety nor anything beyond the spider which was slowly twitching to life in his palm. That was what he loved for. It became clear as her features fell slightly, that she was downtrodden by his absolute lack of interest in anything but his items.

Alas, that gave her an idea as she turned back to Allion," Excuse me for the abruptness, but... My brother and I brought a picnic here, would you like to join us?" She asks lightly, her visage brightening once again as she takes a small step back, shifting her pointed hand to extend to him invitingly.

He offered a quiet sort of smile, just a pull at the edges of his lips really. It felt strange, he had had so little to smile about for so many years. His work did not inspire the emotion of happiness, rather a cold sort of satisfaction and perhaps pride, but not joy. He glanced towards her elder counterpart, understanding in his eyes now as the connecting between brother and sister was explained. The man seemed intently focused on the task before him, whatever that may be, and he effect on his sister did not slip past Allion's eye.

Still, he did not expect such a brash offer, raising a pale eyebrow slightly and unconsciously tilting his head minutely, "I would not want to impose upon you..." He began, glancing upwards at the dying light. True, the time of day made little difference to him, but the sun was quickly sinking now. Evidently the duo had intended a dinner beneath the ever clearing stars, "But, I might be convinced if it does not trouble you overly."

Come to think of it, it had been some time since his last meal. Coin ran dry rather fast when repairing armour and steel within the city, where the promise of work dwindled away. Though, he was sure Uthlyn was as full of wanted men as other towns and villages, they just weren't so ackowledged, it seemed.

Elenoir smiles and shrugs gently," It would not trouble me, and I believe Daemion could care less," she observed, beckoning him forth, another small, dancer's step drawing her frther away," Besides, Sir, I see your heart and-" she flashes a small smile that ligts uo rosy cheeks and glitters those jewels of eyes,"- it is a good one,"

Turning lithely upon the ball of her foot, she began to make her way back to her brother, the dress hissing quietly like snakes in the grass as she strode away. Each muscle movement, no matter how small seemed as fluid as water. Completely and utterly graceful to a near inhuman extend, perhaps if machines worked so well, she would be related to such.

Admittedly, she felt relieved he did not recognize her family name, it made her... Feel truly unique, rather then simply a desireable object for sole purpose of power. She knew for a fact both she and her brother were odd within their society. He a brilliant introvert, she a skilled, beautiful, charming... Vain extrovert. Both of whom valued things which this world did not yet care to embrace, perhaps that would change with time?
Shaking these thoughts from her mind, she smiles faintly and settles upon the blanket spread upon the ground, ensuring she would not shift any of the small tools her brother had meticulously placed down. Alas, her eyes widen with delight as the brass creature in his hand suddenly spring to life- even as Daemion's visage remains emotionless; the creature sprang upward, a spider of copper and brass, shifting upon his hand as it awkwardly began to test its own spindly legs, creaking softly.

Daemion was pleased. Is Spy-der had now come to life, just in time for his belly to gurgle, perhaps he could send it on its first mission immediately while he ate. Alas... Alas, his brief moment of respite was interrupted as his sister sat down nearby, causing him to look up inquistively. She was pleased too. A bonus effect he supposed.

Allion shrugged slightly at that, a gesture befitting his apparent age, rather than his true years, "If you feel so." He said simply, not expecting her next words. A good heart? Perhaps, perhaps not. The things he had done troubled him at times, haunting his every step, his every thought. But, yes, what he had done had been for the good of others, to protect them. Maybe he did have a good heart. Though, how she could claim such things bare moments after meeting him, he did not know.

Shaking his head somewhat, he followed her across the short grass, lifting a hand to sweep ivory locks over his shoulder, away from his face, as he waited for her to choose her place, watching the small device in her brother's hands spring to life and begin to test its unsteady, needle-like legs. A curious little thing, it's mechanics not unlike that of his own arm.

That thought in mind, he hooked one leg under the opposing ankle and promptly sat, his legs crossed neatly underneath him and his hands rested in his lap. Watching the two very different expressions set before him, he couldn't help a little smile. Two siblings, so very different in nature and tone, yet they had their subtle similarities. Voluminous time had given him the opportunity to become skilled at picking up on small, insignificant subtleties such as those he saw before him. They were truly brother and sister, then.

He left the introduction to Elenoir, simply watching her brother and his creation with sharp, bright emerald hues.

Elenoir reached over, grasping the basket that held the food that would make up their dinner, she was happy now that Daemion had nothing to work on, perhaps he would focus upon her and their guest now? But no, as she looked up, she ibserved her brother carefully guiding the spindly creature up his arm, up the leather sleeve of his jacket. The spider-like machine jerking and halting spordaically until began to grow used to its own body, skittering up and down his arm jovially. This drew no emotion from him, if it was functional, that is all that mattered to him.

The young woman rolled up her sleeves, the process taking nearly a minute," Allion-" she attempted to engage the stranger with a small smile as she carefully folded the wing's of her dress,"- what bring you to Uthlyn? Are you here to stay or simply passing through?"

Allion watched the tiny machine with quiet fascination, a slight tilt to his lips as he observed the spider's jovial skittering up and down its creator's arm. Fascinating, really, the advances in science he had observed over he last two centuries, quite fascinating.

Turning his attention back to Elenoir, he offered a brief smile as his fingers idly twisted the corner of his tunic, a habit he had never quite been able to break, in all his years. "I am simply passing through; acquiring repairs to my armament and supplies for the road ahead." He explained, eyes turned back to her brother and his tiny, metallic spider.

At last, the mtbion of armaments seemed to tweak Darmionms attention. The Duke finally seeing the man sitting with them for the first time. His eyes immediately snapping to Allion's arm as he stopped the spider with the slightest raising of his sallow hand,"... You arm is fake." He comments shortly, looking upon Allion's face from behind the wire-framed spectacles, his thin lips curled in the slightest frown beneath his beard," Where was it made." He seemed to demand an answer rather then ask for it.

Never one to be particularly used to her brother's blunt mannerisms, Elenoir had begun to carefully split slices of bread upon small cloth handkerchiefs, beginning to press together to soft fruits upon the slices of sweet bread, meats upon the grains and cheeses in addition," You really should ask more nicely, Daemion, that's a touchy thing to point out," she chides lightly, her voice like soft bells as she focuses upon preparing the pre-made meal. She didn't look up at her brother, knowing all too well once poor Allion was locked in his sights, he was deaf and blind to all else. Poor Allion! If only she had known, she would have shooed him away to spare him this...

The brother seemed interested by the mention of armaments, his eyes finally rising from his little creation and fixing themselves on Allion. He smiled slightly at that, seeing a little of his own intensity when it came to his work in the gaze now looking him up and down. True, he was fairly certain their professions were nothing alike, if his could be called a profession at all, but it was rare to meet a man who shared the same...dedication, to his chosen work.

He blinked somewhat when the young man went on to point out his replacement limb, glancing down at his left hand unconsciously. Truth be told, he forgot it was fake sometimes. Five years had allowed him plenty of time to become accustomed to the prosthetic, and its shortcomings. Lifting his gaze back to the man, he allowed Elenoir to speak, an appreciative expression on his face.

Daemion. So, now he had a name. Once more, he felt like the combination of names should mean something to him, the family name in particular, but the information continued to elude him. Two hundred years of knowledge, he wouldn't be surprised if he had met one of the two's ancestors. "You have a keen eye, Daemion; many would not notice." He complimented, offering Elenoir a short smile to convey that he did not mind the bluntness with which her brother spoke. It had been so long since the lose of his flesh and blood that it failed to bother him anymore. In his eyes, it had been a worthy sacrifice.

Removing the leather glove from that hand, he rolled up the tight sleeve underneath, revealing the bronze metal prosthetic underneath. Metal attached to skin a few inches below the elbow, thin plates worked over the top of the gears and wiring underneath. Each plate was carefully placed, to allow the prosthetic to function as naturally as possible.

"It was made here in Uthlyn, as irony would have it," He revealed, lifting the limb out of his lap and vaguely towards Daemion, "Some five years ago."

Elenoir offers a gentle smile in return as she pops a soft slice of range into her mouth, chewing the sweet flesh thoughtfully as she watches the two men with bright eyes. She was worried, truth be told, when Daemion locked onto a person or item, it usually did not end well for them, but she would say nothing on this for the sake of loving her dearest brother so dearly. She finished placing the small assortment of meals together before pushing the items forward on small napkins for them to eat at their leisure. She moved to lay on her back, staring at the multi-colored sky as she dined in silence, smiling vaguely.

Daemion meanwhile moved toward the man and idly grasped his artificial forearm. Though perhaps Allion would not feel the roughness of his hands, Daemion very clearly had an artist's hand. Delicate, knobby fingers meant for gentle, calculated work rather then anything rough and brusque. Carefully his fingertips trailed over the armor and wiring, gaze squinting behind sharp spectacles,".... Hmph."

Allion did not complain, as Daemion moved over to grasp the left hand, sharp eyes examining it, a soft cross between a grunt and a sigh leaving the young man, instead letting his hand go limp as he observed the quiet young man before him. Daemion had a strange aura; quiet but not meek. His calm, almost blank, expression seemed to be hiding something much deeper under the surface. Though, it was not his place to question the man, or his past or the reason he seemed to remain so aloof from his sister. He had met the duo mere minutes ago, he knew little of them, and they even less of he.

He said nothing, watching Daemion look over the well cleaned metal, the wires and gears and knobs. Little of it made sense to Allion, he had never taken that much time to fully examine the prosthetic. It worked, in its own way, and so long as he cleaned it and kept it clear of any overly strenuous tasks, it bothered him little. He felt no inclination to learn more about it, so long as it serves it's purpose.

But, evidently, Daemion was of the opposite mind. Allion could respect that, the utter dedication a man could bestow upon his work, upon his life. Sometimes, the work one did could be all they had to live for.

As Daemion idly ran his fingers over the intricate workings and tendons of the arm, he stopped short as a slice of fruit was shoved just beneath his nose by none other then Elenoir, who has wriggled over and waved the peach just before his furry lips," C'mooooon Daemion, eat something- I know you can't resist peaches." she sings, her words playful as ever but unworldly in their soothing lilt.

Daemion's nostril twitched once, his eyes never straying from the intricate joint of Allion's arm," How long ago since you last went to see the creator of your arm?" he inquires, seeming to be able to resist the peach slice... For only so long. Idly, he reaches back to grasp the slice from his sister, causing her to smile brightly, her entire face lighting up brightly as she moved back to lying down, grasping a slice of sweetbread eloquently decorated with strawberry, peach, and other fruits drizzled with a light sugar powder, offering it to Allion with a small smile.

Allion watched the interaction between the two siblings quietly, a vague upwards tilt to his lips. It was refreshing to see that, even in times such as these, the bonds of family did still exist, fragile and uncertain sometimes, perhaps, but with a strength all their own besides.

Glancing at Daemion as the man enquired as to his arm, a wry smile pulled at his lips, weary eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he shook his head, loose strands falling over his eyes. "Alvaro died shortly after completing it. I've taken care of it myself since." He explained, resting his right hand on his knee as he idly watched Elenoir behind her brother.

Quirking a soft nod at the woman at the proffered  food, he took the lavishly decorated slice of sweetbread with regrettably gloved fingers. Not that it mattered, the articles were spares, not often used, but necessary after his latest hunt saw his old ones burned to cinders.

"My thanks." He murmured to the young woman, turning his gaze back to Daemion as he took his first bite. Perhaps a little too sweet for his tastes, the collection of fruits combined with the bread exploding in spicy flavour inside his mouth. He swallowed a slight grimace, not quite expecting the taste, and instead only cleared his throat. It would be rude to complain of the food, offered to him freely and without enmity, nor hostility.

"If I may ask, what are you two doing in Uthlyn?" He could tell they were not natively of the city. The cut of their jib didn't fit, not quite, though the girl could easily fit into the colourful, artistic, and lively setting of the Uthlynian streets. But, no. These two, the boy especially, seemed like they were something more than performers or tinkerers.

Elenoir arches her back, tilting her head back to gaze at Allion. He was a very beautiful man, she thought, he had striking features that she wanted to reach out and caress, though that would likely land her quite the scolding and maybe even the horrifying disapproving glance of her brother. So she folded her hands upon her flat stomach as she lay their, chocolate ringlets glistening auburn in the setting sun as she responded gently," We are heading to the new Grand Mordecai's ball, so Daemion can be seen now that he's Duke and all," she answers carelessly- reaching up to stiffle a yawn with the back of a delicate hand.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she rested her hand upon her cherry lips, reaching her other toward the sky to grasp the wispy clouds as her rolled up sleeve slipped further back upon her slender arm," What about you, sir Allion?"


Daemion did not seem to realize nor care he had been outted, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a tiny screw driver. Without asking, nor seeming to care, he began to gently tweak the gears within Alliob's elbow- nothing painful but only mildly disturbing how easily he fell into the blind craftsman's focus.

He watched her patiently, observing the warm aura she practically radiated. She was a beautiful young woman, her presence oddly familiar, though he knew for certain he had never once come across the pair before.

In honesty, he had not expected the revelation that the man before him was a Duke. Casting his gaze to Daemion once again, he observed the man, paying close attention now. Even still, though there were small signs, small signals, it was hard to believe the man digging a tiny screw driver out of his pocket and tinkering unabashedly with a stranger's prosthetic was a Duke of Connloath.

Then again, who was he to judge? He hardly represented his station. But no, it was his past station. There was no turning back time, nothing that would change what had occurred all those years ago.

Closing his eyes for a moment to regain his focus, he shook his head, wiping his fingers on the knee of his pants. "Like I said, I am simply passing through for repairs."

" Oh? Oh yes- you did," She murmurs, tilting her head away for a moment before focusing back on him," I am sorry- my mind just flutters around all the time I can never focus really. Not like Daemion, he's no better then one of his little clockwork toys once he gets in the mood," she flashes a lovely little smile, sitting up to sink her teeth into the fruit and sweetbread, clearly having quite the sweet tooth based on how much her face lit up and she swayed contently.

" Then whats your profession? What so you do?" Her eyes light up as she swipes her tongue over her lips with a gasp," Are you an adventurer? Like Hakon?"


" I do not believe he would know the General," Daemion comments offhandedly, grinacing as her maneuvers Allion's arm into a bent position, pricking an artificial tendon carefully, working out a small bump in the wiring with the utmost concentration.


" He only pays attention long enough to prove me wrong," Elenoir sighs dramatically though looks upon her elder brother rather affectionately.

Allion only smiled kindly at her momentary embarrassment, resting his hand on his knee once again and looking to Daemion at his sister's words. Indeed, the man was truly focused on his task, his mind clearly settled on the sole purpose of ironing out the kinks Allion himself had not even known existed in the prosthetic.

At Elenoir's question, he frowned slightly, shaking his head. "Nothing as grand as all that," he spread his free hand, shrugging a little with one shoulder, but careful to keep his left still, "I am but a humble bounty hunter."

Somehow, he questioned whether that would be believed. More than once, he had been questioned for that statement, many unwilling to accept that a man of his...posture and air was but a lowly bounty hunter. But theirs was a strange world. Many men adopted airs and graces that were not their own; tales were easy enough to tell, webs to weave. None knew the truth, not for over a century. That was the way it had to be.

Lying had become more than just a habit to him now. It was a way of life, a constant at his side, a skill he had honed to perfection. He could, and had, stare fate in the face and lie about his past, himself, who and what he was.

But now was not the time for such reflections. Shaking himself back to the present with a slight start, a small wince as a phantom pain shot through long quiet nerves. He didn't pull away though, just smothered the grimace and turned to Elenoir again, knowing now that Daemion would most likely either not hear him, or just ignore him, enraptured as he was.

"From which State do you hail? I have seen much of Connloath over the years; perhaps I have see your home?"

Elenoir's eyes widen a fraction as she tilts her head to one side, cocoa ringlets spilling over her shoulder," A bounty hunter? Well from what I've heard-" she proceeds to sit back elegantly on her haunches, extending her legs and beginning to examine the soft, silken fabric of the foreign dress," I would say you're one of the better bounty hunters. Most are mean and barbaric, yes? No one would ever suspect you to be one," she sings lightly, looking up to flash the man a dazzling smile and playful wink.

Daemion paused in his work, seeming to be vaguely satisfied but commenting offhandedly," You will need to come to me in order for me to finish this. Rust has begun to set inside your joints, a month or more of this may result in your arm breaking off," she grunts, utterly no feeling nor emotion in his voice as he adjusts his spectacles, pocketing the screwdriver to begin to eat rather slowly. Consumption was a bother. It only took away from what work he could be doing...

Elenoir tilts her head curiously toward her brother, arching an eyebrow before focusing on allion - another dazzling smile," Vythe, we're from Vythe," she chirps lightly

At that, he couldn't help but chuckle, raising a hand to cover his lips as mirth burned in aged emerald hues, if only for a moment, before seeming to sputter and die. "No, I'm not your traditional bounty hunter," he agreed, shifting a little and gently plucking a slice of fruit out of the assortment of foods, straying clear of the sweetbread for the moment, "But it is also true that not all can be thrown under the same stereotype as that you've just spoken. Many different people are hunters, for many different reasons. Desperation for work, a lust for travel, or knowledge. And greed, or malice it's true. You will find many people of various histories amongst my...kin."

His eyes turned back to Daemion then, slight surprise in his gaze as he flexed the limb, dipping his head in polite gratitude, "I thank you for the work," he said, pulling the sleeve back down over the smooth, polished metal, "It was most generous."

Though, he had a feeling it had been as much for Daemion as for himself. "Where might I find you, then?"

Elenoir smiles faintly and tilts her head," Your kin? What do you mean?" she chides lightly as Daemion turns away without a word, retrieving a scrap of paper and an odd cylindrical quill from his pocket full of ink (a medieval pen), scratching out a name before placing the scrap at Allion's side. 'The Rabbit's Ear' was scratched out ornately upon the white paper. Perhaps the name of an inn. It seemed Daemion had done his talking for the day, already packing away his devices.

Allion pulled a slight face, blowing a strand of hair out of his face once more, the ivory locks really were a pain freshly cleaned. "Well, though we might all be different in our goals and motives, underneath it all most hunters are alike, in some way or another." In our loneliness, he thought privately, brushing the thought aside quickly as he glanced down at the paper Daemion had given him.

Nodding slightly at the familiar name of the popular inn, he tucked the scrap into his pocket, glancing to the west where half-sun was disappearing beneath the horizon, darkness peaking over the lands as the wind whistled merrily through the trees of the garden, rustling the grass at the feet. You could smell the rain in the air now, the heavy blanket of humid foreboding the downpour that was to come. A single spot fell from the heavens, landing on the bare metal of his left hand, before slipping down into the grass below.

Elenoir blinks rapidly as a single fat droplet rolls down her cheek almost akin to a tear, alas- sitting up- she quickly packs the food left and unrolls one long sleeve, draping her arm over her head as the thick droplets begin to fall more rapidly," Well-" she approaches Allion with a small smile and skip in her step, gazing up at him with those lovely green eyes that glittered with so much life and affection,"- We will see you soon, right Allion?" she sings hopefully, the sleeve leaving her face in shadow though her teeth flash white in a dazzling smile.

Daemion meanwhile adjusted his spectacles, all but unmoved by the rain as his creation scuttles into his sleeve- not that he seemed to give a damn whatsoever. Staring down the path, the Duke already seemed lost to his two companions..

Allion climbed to his feet as Elenoir packed up the food, slipping his glove back over the prosthetic limb and tucking his hand into his coat. Unlike the leather ones he usually wore, the cloth gloves were hardly waterproof, and he highly doubted more water would do the aged metal any good.

Smiling slightly as the girl approached, he smothered the flutter of remembrance that rose at her dazzling smile, the warmth in soft green eyes. "Yes. I wouldn't like to miss your departure, after all." He replied, glancing towards Daemion in the vague hope of thanking the man, but it was clear he no longer paid attention to the other two individuals.

The rain began to patter down in earnest then, the light sprinkle turning to a drizzle in a matter of seconds. Allion covered a curse and turned towards the way he had come, mentally calculating the best route back to his tavern, even as he spoke, "You two had best get in, before you are completely soaked." He advised, flashing a quick smile as he prepared to make a run for it, before the downpour came in earnest.

Elenoir flashed him another smile, popping even closer to him before standing on her toes to deliver a sweet kiss to his cheek. So very light was it that it seemed a mere breath of wind before she pulled away, wincing but smiling in the rain as it clung the fine fabric to her slender shoulders," I can't wait to see you again, sir Allion!" She chirps brightly before turning and rushing after her brother, Daemion already far down the path as he had decided to stroll away without his sister in tow. What an odd, oblivious man.

He blinked at the unexpected gesture, a look of surprise flashing across his face. Watching the duo depart, he shook his head slightly, shaking off the quiet feeling of memory as he set off for his own shelter, the gardens soon falling behind as he sprinted with inhuman speed, the rain truly starting to set in as he flitted through the quickly deteriorating streets.

Night Falls, As Does the Rain...

It had not stopped, only intensified in the downpour. Elenoir sat upon a peacock-backed chair in the shaded veranda of the inn, her hands folded in her lap, a small tabby kitten curled in her lap as she watched the streets just beyond being pounded by the rain. As she sat, she began to hum under her breath, attempting to recall a tune about an ancient General from long ago. Alas... She had trouble remembering the words-

She gave up, leaning back in the chair and closing her eye. Daemion was likely working upon the multi-shot pistol he hoped to create and would do so until the sun rose again. Vaguely she missed the bounty-hunter... She felt utterly alone but for this tiny cat, asleep between her thighs. Briefly, she closed her eyes- this time choosing a lullaby to sing to the tiny creature:

"Dark the stars and dark the moon,
Hush the night and the morning loon,
Tell the horses and beat on your drum,
Gone their master, gone their son,

Dark the oceans, dark the sky,
Hush the whales and the ocean tide,
Tell the salt marsh and beat on your drum,
Gone their master, gone their son,

Dark to light and light to dark,
Three black carriages, three white carts,
What brings us together is what pulls us apart,
Gone our brother, gone our heart~"

Her voice reached hauntingly into the street, weaving between the droplets fluidly and seeming to hush even the vicious storm's rumbling...


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The steady shink of steel against stone created a steady rhythm inside the beaten down tavern room, the bright silver blade humming from each stroke of the sharpening stone down it's length. Outside, the rain beat down in heavy sheets, turning the streets to mud and puddles.

Allion watched the rainfall with distant eyes, his mind wandering as his body moved through the patterns of sharpening the blade in hand, the intricate carvings in the blade, filled with tiny white ore, reflecting the candlelight.

Despite himself, he fiund his mind drifting to the young girl, Elenoir, and her brother. There was an aura around the girl, a familiarity. Another man might have thought of reincarnation,  but Allion was no fool. Despite how alike to Cillian young Elenoir might feel, despite the flutter in his heart every time he thought of the young woman's face, her hauntingly beautiful voice, there was no point dwelling upon it.

Cillian was gone, stolen away from him by the cold hands of Fate, and there was no other. The void in his heart was an eternal one, alike to the life he had been reduced to, punished by. It was his due justice for his actions, all those years ago. But that didn't make the emptiness any easier to bear.

The candle at his side blew out in a rush, the gust of wind blown through the window, cracked ajar to allow the scent of the rain inside, extinguishing it in one fell swoop. He sighed, stared at the smoking wick for a moment before sheathing the blade and tossing the sharpening stone onto the small desk in the corner.

Despite himself, he found the melody Elenoir had sung drifting into his mind, humming the tune softly as he moved to close the window. In the old days, when the words had been not a foreign language, but common tongue, at least to his people, the song had been beauriful tenfold, the words touching on his heart every time Cillian sung it, her voice soft and beautiful.

Sighing softly again, breaking off mid-verse, he sat on the edge of the window sill and stared into the dark night beyond.

"I still miss you, carissime, I fear I always shall. Such is my cursed existence."

Eventually her voice drifted off into silence as she pursed her lips, carefully leaning back in her chair as she cradled the small kitten in her arms standing as she moved back toward the rooms- alas, through the glass doors, she saw something strange. Several figures, hunched oddly as they scurried about the room, picking up glass ware, searching cabinets. Thieves?! She bit her lip and took a small step back. Daemion was definitely safe- but why were they here? Did they know who she and her brother were?

Crouching in er palce, trying to stay out of sight, she slunk back into the shadows, trying to silence the mewling kitten as it was disturbed from its rest...

An hour passed, possibly more, before he moved again. Rifling through his pack, he dug out his threadbare cloak and fastened it around his shoulder, pulling the hood up over pale hair. He cast a quick glance at his sword, debating, before deciding against it and heading for the door.

There was no telling when the two might leave, he wasn't even quite sure when the Grand Duke's ball was, so best to get the repairs to his arm finished sooner, rather than later. At least, that was what he told himself. He refused to acknowledge the quiet voice, the whispers, in the back of his mind that spoke of long lost love and the grief that had followed, the void in his being.

Stepping out onto the street, his boots squelched in the mud, the rain still beating down in torrents. Aside from himself, no other set foot outside, the streets empty and dark. Sighing softly, he set out towards The Rabbit's Ear, navigating his way with an ease born of practice, attempting to stay beneath the overhanging eaves of houses and taverns as he went.

Elenoir tucked herself carefully behind the flaring chair, trying to hush the kitten as a large black shape suddenly overtook the windows leading to the veranda. The door squealed open as a large man exits, looking about before turning to his comrades," Any word on the girl?" he spoke loudly, without fear.... What happened to Daemion.

" None sir."

" Surround the building, I have a feeling her brother will be appearing-" the kitten scrambled from her hands in a panic and fled across the veranda, Elenoir quickly pressing a hand before her mouth. She could hear the cruel smile in the man's voice,"- very- very soon."


A shrill cry suddenly pierced the ambience of the rain.


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Allion stiffened, his senses jumping to full alert as a piercing cry shot through the pitter patter of rain, the sound peircing and harsh. Eyes narrowing, he cast a quick glance about before heading forwards, his eyes alighting on the flickering lantern hung over the door of the Rabbit's Ear.

Suspicion aroused, more so, he carefully approached the door, noting the fact it was swinging freely in the breeze, and slipped through into the room behind. Darkness engulfed the main lobby, only silent, vague shapes and the quiet creaking of a lantern breaking through the pitch black. Frowning, he dropped to a crouch, pressing himself against the side of he main counter as a dark orb materialised in his hands, eyes glowing softly with an ambient light as he moved  through the room without sound nor sight of intruders, making no noise himself.

The lobby of the Rabbit's Ear was utterly black but for a single candelabra that sat upon the winding staircase, beside it- an incredibly tall man smoked lazily. He was white-blonde, clad in a long jacket of deep leather and hide. His hands seemed incredibly elongated and pale in the warm glow. The ash of the cigar bloomed briefly with life, illuminating a handsome but scarred face, perhaps reminiscent of a famous other. Nonetheless, deep red eyes focus upon Allion,"... You know, it's always wiser to run away from screams in times of war, hm?" A voice akin to gravel being poured down a dry slope rose from the man as he sat their idly.

Above, feet stomped, a terrible metallic smell wafted through the air- there was a struggle. This man didn't care.


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Allion's eyes hardened, soft whisps of light almost seeming to radiate from vaguely glowing eyes. Knowing, now, that his presence was known, he stood, making no effort to hide the magic bubbling in his hands, smoky magic that frothed and churned inside his curled palm.

Glancing upwards, the hunter tensed at the smell wafting to him, a soft snarl threatening to break free. Shoving that side of himself down deep into the recesses of his mind, he focused on the man before him, expression portraying nothing.

"Wisdom is an elusive prey, one few can grasp." He returned, his voice low and calm, expression similar.

(I'm so sorry. The internet is being trash once again *flails*)

" Yet you are nor, Alliondrai Alkayz," the strange man rumbled, flashing a slow, vicious smile," You belong in myths. In the legends that little lady up there sings about and her brother paints nonsense of," he points one unusually elongated finger toward the ceiling. One would notice his joints seemed disconnected, his index finger almost akin to a knobbly twig that ended in a sharp nail akin to a talon. A monster. Whatever this man was, he was ruined....

" I would tell you to leave, but I know you will not," he sighs slowly in that rasping voice, slowly standing, towering over Allion and seeming to block the glow of the candelabra dangerously. A terrible, terrible aura came from this man, his lips curling back into a slow, twisted smile," I suppose you will just have to fight me then. Eh."


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Allion felt his gut twist as the man spoke his name, yet his expression remained unchanged, aside from a slight parting of his lips. Staring the man down, he curled his fingers around the magic flowing into his hands, feeling the pulsing mass at his beck and call. He unconsciously took a step back as the man rose, cursing himself for leaving his weapons behind, and his leg banged against the edge of the counter, his retreat blocked.

"What are you?" He asked, his head tilting somewhat to the side despite himself. The man's aura was foggy, unclear, tainted. It confused his senses, fought against his own, brighter, presence, "And what do you mean to do with them?"

He didn't need to name them, it was clear this man already knew who he was here to see, as well as who they were. But why?

A low, dark chucle flowed from this man's lungs as he stepped forward, head bent slightly to avoid smacking the ceiling while simultaneously becoming somewhat more... Predatory," Dead men should keep their noses out of business that is not their own." She answers, slowly lowering one hand to the floor, getting onto all fours- he seemed more natural in that position, like a massive, humanoid dog. He was nothing more then a massive sillhouette now, though the slow changes were becoming more and more clear.

His fangs glittered eerily," Come now, dead man, come dance with meeee~" he snarls with a low, horrible snarling laugh

Allion slid into a defensive stance, his body lowering as his legs braced and he raised one hand before his chest, palm down, and the other out slightly, the frothing, churning mass of purple-black energy glittering a blue-ish colour in its centre.

This creature, for that is all he was, Allion saw that now, was not natural. Not human. His actions and his words were enough to prove that. The hunter gritted his teeth, watching his foe for the first sign of movement.

" How utterly impolite."

Was the last human phrase the beast utters, immediately the beast rips forward, jaws agape, the flesh upon the man's cheeks all but tearing open to reveal a long maw of sharp teeth that snapped shut  again as the flesh weaved together. His long fingers, now terrible talons reaching out to slam Allion to the floor. His eyes blazed, utterly inhuman and disgusting as bloodshot as they were.


Above, a gunshot rings out, multiple shots. It would only be a matter of time until guards arrived, that was certain...


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Allion lunged to the side, magic abandoned as he focused on avoiding the beast's crushing teeth and claws. Still, a scraping blow was struck to his leg, throwing him to the floor with a subtle gasp. He was no stranger to pain, the laceration across his lower leg only a minor pinprick compared to the hellfire he had been subjected to in the past.

Brushing it aside, he rolled back to his feet, the smell of blood, rich and inhuman, salted the air as he conjured a spell, quick and lacking in real strength, but hopefully enough to slow the beast down. It crackled with blue energy as it shot from his palm, aimed for the large, hopefully less mobile creature, with the intent to momentarily paralyse.

The spell makes contact with the beast's skin that began to tear through the heavy jacket- briefly freezing the beast. Even then, its flesh continues to swell and boil. Tongue too large for his mouth now lulling out as he sneers," Cooooome now~ thats no FUN-" a massive paw lashing outward to crush Allion to the floor.


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He leapt backwards, ignoring the stab of pain that shot up his leg, and grunted as his lower back slammed into a short table. Immediately falling into a forwards roll, he dove between the beast's front legs, rolling underneath him and blasting his hands upwards with a concussive blast of energy.

The beast's flesh folded under the power of the blast, yet its massive weight kept it atop him. The wolf-like ma immediately reached down, forcing its massive hand about his neck as its massive talons dug into the flooring. In the darkness, its deep red eyes glowed like dying coals, teeth fleshing yellow and blood. Its broken bones within its gut already began to heal, pushing and bulging against the skin. The monster's throat gurgled with laughter, enjoying this agony far too much as it continued to grow and twist- bones cracking and muscles tearing audibly.


A gunshot rang out, the beast stumbling slightly forward as its entire weight crushed upon Allion's trachea. If he were to look toward the stairs, he would see none other then the duke in a nightshirt and a pair of torn pants, barefoot, spectacles reflecting the orange glow of the candelabra- an pistol with an odd barrel blowing white gunpowder in his hand. The odd pistol clicked, immediately a second shot rang out- without him even loading it. How was such a thing possible?

The beast howled- bullets hurt- regardless of what you are... 


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Allion gasped, his hands both clawing at the beast's as he choked for breath, his face twisting in desperate need for air, and the pain that engulfed his throat. Fuzzy darkness threatened at the edge of his vision as even more weight was applied to his throat, his vision tilting and swaying as he twisted his head, hands still scrabbling to rid himself of the beast's hold as his foggy vision fell upon none other than Daemion, the man holding a strange, multi-barrelled gun of some kind.

The loud gunshots came to him as if through water, his head feeling like it was about to burst as he gaped and gurgled for air. Survival instinct kicked in as his vision began to turn white at the edges, his hands moving from the beast-man's own claws towards the head, a tiny gasp escaping his lips as he all but wrenched the magic from his body, fire spewing from his outstretched hands in white-hot bursts.

The beast at last released its grip, turning its full attention upon the duke, but was met with a rapid succession of blasts, screeching as it reeled away in agony. Four shots within several seconds and the room was completely shrouded in hot, white smoke. It seemed several minutes had passed as shouting came nearer and a cold, almost utterly lifeless hand pressed flat against Allion's cheek, turning his head toward the unmoved spectacled and bearded face. Daemion seemed as unwavered as ever, but his thin lips moved," Sit up." His low, quiet artist's voice was surprisingly commanding," Now." Already the Duke was pulling Allion into a sitting position.

The lobby was wreck, blood. Splattered the dark tables and lanterns of guards bobbed about. It seemed to be an utter massacre.


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Allion gagged on air, choking and gasping as his hands dropped to his crushed throat, air whistling through his teeth as he tried to just breath. His lungs screamed for the air, then flared with ice so cold it burned when they received the much needed oxygen. Vaguely, he was aware of a cold touch to his cheek, his body being pulled into an upright position as he bent over, wheezing as his eyes watered.

His mind was filled with fuzz, his alert senses brought to a halt by the sensation of being slowly suffocated. As such, he didn't fully realise that, in his panicked state, he had revealed his abilities, what he was to a Duke of Connloath.

Blinking rapidly as the coughing began to finally die away, though his throat felt like dozens of tiny daggers were being driven into it, and his head was throbbing painfully in time with his numbing leg, he lifted his gaze to his apparent saviour, wincing harshly as he tried to swallow and was brutally rebuffed. "Wha-" his voice was little more than a whisper, pain shooting through his throat as he tried to speak, but his confusion was evident. 

" Silence." His cold voice snapped like a whip, green eyes nearly black as he stood slowly, stepping back at the moon rose higher and flooded the lobby with silver light," You will say nothing, Allion, but you will follow me." Turning upon her bare foot, this skinny scholarly man walked back toward the stairs. For such a sallow and weak looking young man, there seemed a horrifying amount of strength to him, though it be not physical, it was certainly enough to rule a Duchy.

He paused at the base of the steps, waving away a city guard as he looked toward Allion expectantly.


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The hunter obeyed, if only because his voice was shot to pieces and his head felt fit to explode. Using a hand on the ground to push himself up, he swayed slightly before steadying himself, fighting of the ensuing head rush and throwing his weight to the left so as to take the pressure off the opposite leg. The gash bled freely, the smell of it tainting the air with a coppery smell not quite natural, the red stain on his pants trailing down most of his thigh and lower leg by this point.

Limping obviously, now, he followed the Duke, his senses beginning to clear a little as his body replenished its oxygen levels, and his mind began to come back alive, cold realisation sliding into place in his head. Silently, he cursed.

Daemion waited for him at the top of the stairs, keeping the heavy door to his and his sisters apparent quarters open. Until the white haired man entered, he stared Allion down unblinkingly from behind those wired spectacles. At last closing the door, one could look about the apartment and note the large stains of blood that announced the final resting places of many of the intruders. An artist and an assassin apparently, the duke sat down slowly on a ruined chair, stuffing popping from deep gashes within the chair itself,"... Elenoir is gone now." He comments idly, staring at Allion unblinkingly, his face unmoved.

" They took her." Leaning back in the chair, the Duke idly placed the oddly barreled weapon upon a nearby table which promptly collapsed under the small additional weight. Not that the Duke seemed to care as he folded his hand back into his lap, adjusting the glasses on his nose.


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Allion's leg was threatening to give out by the time they reached the room, his hand moving to press against the freely flowing wound, red smearing across his gloves in an instant. Glancing about the room with wary green hues, he frowned darkly at what he saw, eyes flickering between the destroyed chambers and the Duke, a new level of understanding entering his gaze as he realised exactly what this man was capable of, beneath the quiet, scrawny exterior.

He stiffened immediately when Daemion spoke of his sister, his jaw tightening at the thought of the young girl in the clutches of that beast's associates. He still felt slightly lightheaded, his vision murky at the edges, a sudden wave of dizziness prompting him to sit down, rather heavily, on what was left of a once ornate leather settee.

Clearing his throat, with no small measure of pins and needles as a result, he forced his voice to project to more than a whisper, a hoarse crackle at best, "Who?" He stuck with a single word, trusting that Daemion would have the wits to figure out what he meant. The man was no fool.

Daemionms eyes slowly flicker upward, peeking from behind the spectacles at him," Berserkers. Madmen who I apparently relate to." Pushing his spectacles up his nose, her sniffs once," Bahamut, that was the one you tussled with. He is the disease- if you are bitten by one, your most primally suppressed desires become the only thing your mind can take. Imagine the one sin you've suppressed most throughout your life, now make it your everything. If they survive long enough, they can learn to control it, sometimes become like animals from it. It's all quite interesting, truly." Even as he drawled this out, he seemed less then interested for his sister's welfare.

" I can't imagine why they'd want her but for breeding stock, a shame." He taps the side of his nose," But I would prefer she come back to me untouched. She is valuable as a virgin." Slowly, his eyes flicker to Allion.

"... Help me get my asset and I will keep your secret, that sounds rather fair to me, hm."


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Allion's gave hardened at the time with which Daemion spoke, as if his sister was just a thing, a tool to be used, an "asset" as he called her. Biting back the urge to snap at the young man, he ground his teeth together, unwillingly admitting to himself that the man made a valid point. If a Duke outed him, even if he managed to escape the obviously trained fighter, he would be hunted for years.

Swallowing back the vitriol he felt so strongly, he dipped his head slightly in what he hoped passed for respectful agreement. Even if Daemion hadn't asked, hadn't threatened, he would have gone after Elenoir anyway. Images of blood and death flashed through his mind, unbidden, rosy skin stained by crimson red, vibrant blue dulled and glassy. He scowled.

"I'll go."

" I know you will," the Duke responded easily," or you know as well as I do what will happen," stifling a yawn, he slowly pushed himself up- bending to scoop up the multi-barreled pistol and turning it over in his hands. He glanced at Allion, blinking slowly.

" The sooner the better, Allion, they are no more then animals." It was clear he wanted the white-haired man out.


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Allion smothered the glare he wanted to throw at the man, his gratitude for the repairs done to his arm buried underneath his disgust for the way Daemion acted towards his sister. Pushing himself to a stand, he offered onky a brisk nod before excusing himself from the room silently, limping his way down the stairs to the bloody scene below.

Blowing out a breath, he took a moment to examine the wound in his thigh, the gash finally beginning to slow in its bleeding. He would heal it once he returned to his own tavern, for now, he simply wanted to leave. The smell of blood was rife on the air, stirring at his less human side, riling up the beast that slept soundly for the moment.

Stepping out onto the street, he noted the rain was beginning to ease a little, the moon glowing brightly overhead as he set out back for his tavern. He would return within the hour to pick up the trail of Elenoir's kidnappers.

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Daemion simply sat back and watched the man depart, moving only to clean the oddly barreled pistol at his side. He was utterly unmoved by all this, it was simply another obstacles to overcome in the end. At least he would not have to go after her himself and could continue his work. So he moved back into his office, lightly a candlebra as he went- and settled down to continue tweaking the weapons and toys he dedicated his humanity to.


The streets were utterly empty but for the guards that moved about the crime scene, some standing guard as other milled about. There seemed no signs f the predators but for the smallest trail of blood leading away from the inn

He noted the blood trail, took notice of its direction and marked it in his head. At least, he supposed, the rain has eased enough that he could get back to his tavern, gather his things, and return without too much fear of having no trail to follow. Indeed, he proceeded to do just that, gathering up his sword and pack from the run down tavern, "The Boar Pot" and handing over what meagre coin he had left as payment for the two nights he has stayed.

His leg freshly mended and tingling faintly with the traces of his magic, he returned to the crossroads where he had lost the trail, sword strapped securely to his hip and his small pack upon his shoulders, freshly repaired armour stowed away for the time being. Finding his trail once more, he set out to follow it with a purpose in his stride and a harsh glint to his eye.

Upon following the trail of blood, perhaps he would notice how it increasingly grew coagulated, almost akin to jelly, hardening and growing particularly lumpy as the trail lead through twisting allies and back streets until at last pausing in the midst of an street- the sun had begun to rise, the rain having ceased and the entire city being raised in a lovely sheen.

Truly, it was a beautiful city, no one would suspect the deadly beasts lurking within, would they? The surrounding area was taverns and bars, not yet filled with life as those who tended to stay the night would be swept out the doors by the inn keepers should they find particular drunkards still collapsed on their floors. The trail had all but vanished...

The night passed into early dawn, but Allion did not tire. He pursued the trail with dogged determination, trying to tell himself this was merely another hunt; an endeavour beneficial to both parties involved, but somehow, he couldn't lie to himself about this one. This was personal.

Frowning in consternation when the trail faded into oblivion, he turned on his heel in a circle, looking about the surrounding area with a distasteful frown. The sun hit him full in the face as it rose waveringly above the horizon, prompting him to raise a hand to cover his eyes. Sighing softly, he turned towards the nearest open inn, deciding he might as well start his search somewhere.

As Allion entered a Dark tavern, an old, wrinkled man, seemingly made from meticulously crumpled paper so white and flawed was his skin, looked up from wipping down a poished wooden counter that seemed smoothed by centuries of loving care,"... May I help ye, son?" He asked in a rather thick accent, lifting the dirtied rag.

Allion glanced around the tavern warily, regarding its empty state with a critical eye. It was silent, bar the occasional creak or thump of sleeping patrons upstairs, so much so that he could hear his own heartbeat. He turned, eyes flickering over the old man, wondering how he stayed in such a business at such an age. Still, books and covers.

He moved over towards the counter, slinging his pack off his shoulder and dumping it by his feet as he claimed an empty stool. Folding his arms over the well polished wood, he nodded in greeting to the old man, licking his dry lips before he spoke, "An ale, please."

He didn't wish to tarry, but his body was still cursedly human, and he needed to conserve his energy for if -when- he found the beast. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to line the old man's coffers before he asked for information. A man with a little reassurance was an easier man to talk to.