So a Necromancer and a Kelpie Walk Into a Clearing... [Inv. "The Night Mare"]

[Squeeman]

Moebius grunted as he heard the answer to his question. Of course it would be in Moonspear, guarded by those 'harsh-but-fair' and 'necessary' priestesses of the Order of the Moon. It must have been one of many texts of eldritch knowledge that they had collected for the purposes of better protecting the sheep from the wolves.

"Damn them. Damn them! DAMN THEM THRICE OVER! Fine then! I shall raise an army of spirits and specters! I shall plunder a hundred graveyards and wake their dead from the dream of sleep. We shall march upon their temple, a sea of unliving corpses! I shall have that book! So swears I, The Magnificent and Mystical Emperor Moebius, First of His Name!"

As he swore and promised and made oaths to nobody in particular, Moebius stamped his feet and shook his staff. Then he growled and raged and finished up his circle. Four symbols were drawn in total, each one pointed at a cardinal direction. Then, as an afterthought, Moebius made a second circle, slightly smaller than the first, so that the symbols were each hugged by two lines. Yes, that would do. It would not protect him as mightily as a proper ward, but... the Four Winds could at least knock away or delay Capella if she dared to attack him.

The act of creation, of digging and drawing through the dirt, tired Moebius out. And so he turned his masked face back to Capella, sounding as jolly and at-ease as he had when he first started their little game.

"Satisfied...?"

Was this it? Was this the moment that his new acquaintance decided she had gotten all the fun she could, and tried to drown him? Perhaps... To be safe, Moebius reached into his robes and pulled out a dagger made of knapped flint. Not to stab Capella with, but to make an offering if he needed to make use of her many, many victims...

"No, I am never satisfied. For I have a hundred more questions... though I think I'll press my luck with two more. How might I contact you again for more stimulating conversation? And are you yourself satisfied?"

Already, Moebius was plotting his assault upon the temple that served as the Order of the Moon's headquarters in Moonspear. An army of the dead was possible to raise, but he would need many sacrifices. And the undead were vulnerable to holy magic and holy places... Though most mortals were not. If he could find living servants as well... and perhaps learn of deeper magics that could counter the holy artifacts that the priestesses wielded...

[DragonSong]

Capalla let him rage, the merest quirk of one eyebrow her only reaction to his oaths and promises. She waited until he had calmed enough to answer her question--and then her other eyebrow crept up to join its twin.

Asking for a way to contact her again? Bold.

"Names have power," she told him in answer, "and the water is my lifeblood. Should you wish to speak again, ask the rivers and the lakes. I will hear." Whether or not she would chose to answer was something she herself did not yet know.

Was she satisfied?

She smiled, the briefest flash of sharp teeth. "For the moment, I am content. You have proven a sufficient amusement, Magnificent and Mystical Emperor Moebius, First of His Name." She tilted her head to one side, black eyes as flat as still, deep waters.

"And as you asked me two questions, it seems I am owed a final answer from you." She smiled again, all sign of those needle-sharp teeth gone. "But perhaps that is a debt I shall collect another time."

[Squeeman]

As soon as Moebius saw Capella's sharp smile and blackened eyes, he stopped breathing. What was in his lungs stayed there as he watched and waited, making sure he wasn't going to be pulled beneath the surface of that lake she hid inside of her. He held, he held, he held... After what felt like forever, but was probably less than a minute, Moebius could feel his lungs burning and a pressure building up inside, threatening to burst.

He exhaled through his mouth, then breathed in through his nose, gulping up fresh, cool air. Then, Moebius narrowed his red eyes. He did not like owing a debt to a fae creature, least of all one of the Unseelie sort, for he knew of no "light" or "bright" kelpies. However, if Lady Capella had no questions, and he had no information he could offer that he knew she didn't already know, then Moebius had no choice...

"As you wish. I must figure out how to follow these paths back to the Thunderblacks... and perhaps how to find more roads like them."

Despite knowing that he had to leave his circle to go back to the path he had taken to get to the circle, Moebius did not step outside of it just yet.

"Until we meet again, Lady Capella."

[DragonSong]

She nodded to him, even sinking briefly into a polite curtsey, just low enough to show a modicum of respect, if not deference.

"Until we meet again, indeed."

As she rose from the curtsy, she changed, her form melting into black water; and then it was a massive, night-black mare who stood before him.

She snorted once, tossed her mane, and turned to dash away down an unseen, winding path.

[Squeeman]

The Magnificent and Mystical Emperor Moebius, First of His Name, considered himself a benevolent and reasonable king. After all, he allowed the living to continue breathing in his presence, despite the disgust that he had for such practices. So, despite Lady Capella providing a half-bow that implied she was on equal footing to him, he let it slide and offered a similar bowing of his head in turn. The fact that she could have easily slain his fragile, still-mortal body and left him a wandering ghost with little ability to continue his magics might have had something to do with his patience and tact.

Upon Lady Capella's transformation into a massive, night-black horse with sharp needle teeth, Moebius said nothing. He just watched as she galloped off, taking with her the spirits of her victims... Many of whom seemed to have their hands stuck to her back, as they did in their last moments.

Moebius waited for some time after that. Seconds trickled into minutes until nearly an hour had passed. But, eventually, he was certain the strange kelpie that  had threatened him with drowning and whom he owed a debt of secrets to was gone. Then, he shuffled out of his circle, back towards the strange trail he'd travelled upon to reach the clearing. And then, he left... while keeping an eye out for markers and indicators of the path itself. Who knew? Perhaps he could make use of this strange, ambient magic for his own ends...