Please check to see you're still breathing [Ana]

[nephero]

@Anadwen Okay, so, here we go!

---

As with most nights where terrible things happen, it was dark and stormy. Or rather, there was the imminent threat of it being stormy-- great mountainous clouds loomed just above the treetops, flickering with distant lightning and even more distant thunder. It was as if the skies themselves bore witness to tragedy in the woods of Altas Verde, and rebelled against it.

Or at least, that's what some said. Others swore it was a sign of dark malignance, proof beyond proof that evil was hard at work against their tiny little town. As if the snatching of townsfolk from their beds at night weren't proof enough, still others said. Snatched without a trace-- no struggle, no blood, just vanished like smoke from a snuffed candle.

It left the entire town with a dour atmosphere-- silent as the grave they feared and twice as dark. The storm had been brewing for some few days now, and as it approached, the more ominous it became.

Maybe they really were cursed, one baker said, before she was immediately shushed. It was even worse to speak of it aloud, it would just bring even further ruin down on them.

Further ruin, she replied, incredulous. They were now missing half of their village, all the young and strong bodies gone without so much as a clue. All that was left were children and the old and feeble, certainly no one who could go out into the wilderness to attempt a rescue of any sort.

Hell, they had sent someone out for help weeks ago, and still hadn't heard back. There was the vicious, terrified rumor that their messenger had gotten caught by whatever was menacing them, and that help would never come at all. Meanwhile, the forest around the town grew darker and darker, the wood becoming cold and brittle, the grass grey and dead beneath their feet.

Whatever held their people in its grip, it was slowly seeping into the land itself, choking the life out of all of them.

What these people needed was a hero. What they got was a sell-sword, swathed in layers of armor as dark as the storm, riding a great stallion that seemed to be angrier than the thunder. Just as he arrived, the skies broke open, releasing great torrents of water and cracking thunder.

He had barely gotten his steed to the stables in time, though even a few moments in the deluge was enough to soak him to the bone, short-cropped brown hair matted to his cheeks and forehead. He shook himself like a dog as he stepped into the tavern, before he made his way to the bar, boots heavy on the worn and warped wooden floorboards.

"Room. Ale." He rasped, slapping a few coins onto the countertop.

[Anadwen]

Sometimes you don't get asked if you want a job, or not. When the money is tight, it's not much of a choice. Lately, Thranuilas found himself exactly in this situation. Nobody needed a mercenary, or a mage, or anything at all, to be frank. He had to sell two of his robes and his lute just to keep living in relative luxury. The remaining robe, his most precious, was getting rugged, and he had nothing more left to sell, so he accepted some lousy, shady-looking job.

It was dark when he arrived, and that didn't make him much happier. His horse was very obviously scared of the stormy night, and he himself was DRENCHED. The wind was strong enough to blow drops of rain underneath the hood of his cape, and when he finally got to the inn he was supposed to spend his night in, the long strands of red were stuck to his face, obscuring his vision.

He let the stable hand take care of the big grey horse, and hurried inside, hiding his head with his hands, partly hidden in black wraps that served him as gloves when those... Had to be sold. After twenty years in Connlaothian prison, nobody wanted to give him a job - most of his acquaintances were no longer around - and he had to sell even gloves. Oh, poor were the times.

He shook the water off, unpinning his cloak behind the door, and raking through his vibrant red hair with his thin, pale fingers. The innkeeper gave him a quite confused look. "What would it be..."
"Sir." Thranuilas growled. He was tired of people mistaking him for a girl just because he was half-fae and had long hair.
"Right. Sir." the woman nodded.
"A room and some food. Doesn't matter what is it as long as it's warm and it's not meat. Don't give me meat." he instructed her, waving a hand at the matter.

[nephero]

Now this, this was a tad hopeful. Two strangers in one night, to a town that very rarely got random visitors. The first stranger's eyebrows seemed to spike at the mention of someone forgoing meat, and gave his head a little shake in disapproval. It was right about then that his ale arrived, and he gave the waitress a grateful smile.

"Thank you," was about as much as he got out before he drained half the thing in one go, letting out a sigh of relief. He was wet, he was tired, but the inn was warm and the drink was cold and that was all that mattered at the moment. He could deal with the idea of someone stepping onto his job after he had something substantial in him.

"Anything... anything else?" the waitress asked, and Shea was struck by how young the poor thing was. The messenger had mentioned a curse, and that had been enough to bring him there (that and the promise of a fair amount of coin), but aside from that he hadn't asked too many questions.

"I actually will have the meat. As bloody as I can get it." He sent an amused look over at the other stranger-- some variant of fae, Shea couldn't tell-- and gestured at the empty seat at his table in invitation.

[Anadwen]

At first, Thranuilas was reluctant to join the stranger, who was obviously not a local, just like himself. Eventually, he shrugged, and sat down on the chair opposite the man in dark armour. He was even then trying to get the water out of his hair.

He sat down with his typical grace, and reached into his loose black robe, to retrieve a silver, intricately made hairbrush. It was more fit for a lady than someone like himself, and he did somewhat resemble a noble elven maiden as he raised one hand to hold his hair down, while the other one divided its strands with the brush. The bright crimson was really bright, maybe even too bright considering the dulled color the rest of his figure had - well, except for his eyes, which had a vibrant green, the color of lush forests in spring, lined by his thick black eyelashes.

A few minutes later, the food arrived. By the time, he managed to brush his hair almost entirely, and instead of a red mess he had an orderly curtain of scarlet, lining his face, and falling down to his shoulders. He gave the girl a slight nod, and instinctively reached out for cutlery. There was a knife, but...

He looked at the waitress with confusion. "Excuse me, what about the cutlery? I believe you must have forgotten, there is only a knife." he asked. His voice was perfectly fit for his appearance - soft, elegant, and calm. She raised a brow. "Sorry?''
"The cutlery." Thranuilas repeated, holding the knife out in his thin fingers. "Where is the rest of it, miss?"
"The rest of it?" She didn't seem to understand.

He sighed, and with a wave of his hand gestured her to get away. This inn was awful.

At least the mess of eggs, vegetables, and bread on his plate didn't look too horrific. He picked the knife up to stick one piece of it onto it, and proceed to start eating, every now and then eyeing his companion on the other end of the table.

[nephero]

While most of his type might raise an eyebrow to the idea of preening in such a setting, Shea honestly just seemed enamored with Thranuilas' hair. Really, it was just the color of it, the sheer vibrant color, and he was lost in thought for the longest moment over it.

But then their food arrived, and he salivated at the sight of such a plump (and, pressing into it with his knife, downright bloody) hunk of beef. He was so taken with his meat that he almost missed the conversation that was happening right in front of him. Shea couldn't help a snort, then, laughing at the almost offended look on Thranuilas' face.

Stabbing into a slice of meat with his knife and eating it off the point, Shea Ru settled back into his chair with a grin.

"Far from home, highness?"

Not that he was one to talk, some part of him chided, remembering all too well just how used to luxury he had gotten, before. Man, it was not a pleasant thing, waking up to find a straw bed instead of a goose-feather one. In that, he had to commiserate.

Shea took another gulping swig of ale, and sighed.

"I take it we're here for the same reason."

[Anadwen]

Thranuilas nodded. "Too far for my liking." he responded, his eyes almost closed as he picked the knife up and put the piece stuck on its tip into his mouth.

Almost immediately, he opened his eyes wide, and pulled the knife out, tossing it as far away as he just could. The entire inside of his mouth was burning as if he would just lick a burning coal. He sprang up at his feet, turning at the bar keep with the expression of utter rage.

"An iron knife? Are you freaking serious? Do you want to kill me or what?" he screamed at her, his voice getting an almost hysterical undertone. This couldn't be true, it was just too insane to be true! How could they have given him an iron knife? Wasn't it obvious? Or were these people just too idiotic?

First she can't decide whether she calls him a lady or a sir, now she gives him an iron knife. This service was outright bad. "I refuse to pay for any service I receive unless I see the quality improve VERY soon!" he threatened her, still shouting, and raised one hand to keep proving his point. However, his voice disappeared in a fit of coughing, and he collapsed back onto his chair. Dammit, he really wasn't made to shout.

[nephero]

Shea Ru was about to open his mouth to continue the conversation, when it looked as if Thranuilas was having an absolute fit. He barely avoided getting hit by that stray knife, though whatever ire that action might have drawn was effectively dampened by the redhead's shouting.

Oh, iron. Right, no, that was... admittedly stupid. Shea was on his feet in a heartbeat, and thrw an arm over Thranuilas' chest to get him to settle down, and preferably not continue to berate the admittedly sparse waitstaff.

"Now, now, that's enough of that, highness. Here." He reached into the pouch at his hip, and drew out what looked to be a plant root. "Chew this, it'll help."

Once Shea was sure no more shouting was going to happen-- really, the way Thranuilas was coughing made him think that an impossibility-- he turned to regard the innkeeper and its patrons who, a little understandably, looked visibly upset.

"Don't worry, I'll be paying if he won't, but if you have any wooden or copper implements, that would be very appreciated." He grabbed at his chair, and pulled it around to be a bit closer to where Thranuilas was sitting, and squinted at his mouth. "Chew, spit it out, and then let me see."

[Anadwen]

Thranuilas gave the man a slight frown, and pushed his hand back. "No, thank you. I can take care of myself." he replied. Who the hell knows whether this man wasn't trying to poison him or something along the lines? Besides, at his age, one really COULD take care of himself. These things were one of the fields he had knowledge in.

It was fortunate that he wasn't full fae, and iron didn't harm him that much. It was really only like putting a hot coal into his mouth - and it didn't stop him from eating what else was on the plate without the knife.

He first made a face when he picket a slice of a potato up with his fingers, holding it between his thumb and index finger to avoid touching it as much as possible, and carefully put it into his mouth. Well, guess that worked...

[nephero]

"If you insist," Shea shrugged, though his eyebrows were raised a bit like one's parent might do when they were watching you be senseless. He returned to his own meal in short order, cutting apart the steak and popping the juicy bits into his mouth like candy. Considering the near-rapturous look on his face, the stuff very well might have been candy to him.

For a moment they just ate in silence, though the human mercenary kept his pale gaze locked onto Thranuilas, taking in bits and pieces, analyzing him. He only broke his stare when the waitress came back-- albeit now reluctantly-- to refill his ale, and with a pair of crudely whittled sticks for the red-haired man to use instead of his knife.

"Come on now, you're being rude, lad, stop acting like the food is spoiled."

[Anadwen]

Thranuilas gave the girl something between a nod and a shrug, and picked up the sticks. Guess they COULD work... Wasn't this how they ate on the islands? Reluctantly holding them, he tried to use them to pick the food up. Yes, it worked, but he still wasn't too content with this inn in general.

He raised a brow at the other man's inquiry. "How can I know it isn't? It neither looks nor tastes too trustworthy." The fact that he was paranoid was one thing. The fact that he acted like a smug jerk whatever happened was another. The first was excusable considering the background - but the second one wasn't.

And that guy... How he ate the meat! How could one feast on it like that? It was almost disgusting... Like if it pleased him to eat meat! Must have been some weird freak himself, too...

[nephero]

"Tastes more than fine to me," he said through a juicy mouthful, before swallowing. He shot the other a grin, already carving another slice of his steak with more than a little bit of eagerness. "Though, I don't hold much to vegetation, so there may be a subtle difference there."

He popped the next cube into his mouth, and set his knife down on his plate. He took his time in chewing, his hands folded against his chin, and gaze roving the rest of the inn. He was all too aware of the stares they continued to receive, long after the recent tantrum had subsided.

This place was more desperate than he had originally thought.

"But then, I think these folk have enough problems without poisoning random passersby, far before any threat of nonpayment. Don't you?"

[Anadwen]

"I... Suppose so." Thranuilas responded silently, picking another piece of the food up with caution. The bite sent a shiver down his back, so horrible it was. He was already thinking about rather sharing this dinner with his horse... But in a state when he had to sell his robes there was no place to be picky!

"That doesn't make this poor excuse for a food taste any better, though. If they give me this, what will they feed my horse?" he commented, obviously disturbed by the thought, but kept eating. His stomach was emptier than he'd like to admit.

If only everyone wouldn't be staring at him like that... Were they really so desperate that anyone not completely human was a huge change in the routine? Was this really that much of a back of beyond? Gods help him if that was how it was.

Eventually, he gave up on trying to eat his food with nobility and composure, and finished its remains bending over the plate like a hungry wolf, wiping what was left stuck to the plate with a solitary potato. But when that, too, was eaten, he sprang back to his usual stature faster than the crack of a whip, wiping the corners of his mouth with the side of his hand, wrapped in black fabric. He almost immediately retrieved the silver comb and started brushing his hair again.

[nephero]

"Probably far better, considering horses don't tend to insult their feeders." Shea snorted a bit, though his grin communicated he was really only just teasing. He eased up on his wisecracks, however, when Thranuilas' pride was overtaken by sheer hunger, and he attacked the plate like some kind of starving feral child.

Shea'd been there, before. Long, long ago, back before he'd had enough time and experience and skill to make his way. It had been rough, and there had been patches of similar roughness between then and now, enough to keep him humble at the very least. Or, so he hoped. It was always hard to keep track of oneself over the years, especially in any kind of cross-cultural, objective fashion.

And then, just like that, the fey creature was back to looking like a polished jewel in his seat, and Shea was right back to snickering in amusement. He shook his head, and continued to eat his own meal, finally pushing the plate away once all that remained was the watery puddle of blood in the center of it. True to his word, when the waitress came to collect their dishes, he pressed a small bag into her hands, gesturing that the coins were meant to settle both his and Thranuilas' bills.

She looked more than relieved at that, as any amount of interaction she didn't have to have with the pretty man was well within her boundaries of acceptable. Shea Ru finished off his ale, then, and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Okay, so, listen, I know we're both here for the same reason, and rather than hiss and spit and carry on about who gets the job and who can fuck off," his thick eyebrows raised up, almost right into his hairline, as if he expected the half-elf to argue that there would be no such argument. When he didn't immediately get one, Shea continued on, "I'd like to propose a... merger. Even split, even work, and hopefully without us biting off more'n we can chew and dying a horrible, grisly death. If what that old man was babbling was true, it might be wiser."

[Anadwen]

"I was about to offer you something similar." Thranuilas nodded, crossing his legs. "I don't have any objections against it... Except for one thing." A cold smile appeared on his lips as he pulled a scroll of paper, a quill, and pulled one of the chains under his robes up to reveal a small glass vial, full of dark purple ink. He carried ink on a chain on his neck at all occasions - you never know when you need ink.

"First, I need a contract about this. I am definitely not willing to get a knife into the back the moment it comes to receiving the payment. Do not take that as an offense - it is just a habit of mine." he assured him, opening the vial, and dipping the tip of the quill into it to start writing with thin, tilted letters onto the scroll.

I proclaim and swear not to betray or use my business partner, not to attack them, nor to rob them, or in any way attempt to take their wealth or harm them, for time until this proclamation will be burned to ash. I promise not to leave my business partner in danger unless necessary for my own survival, and to inform them about my progress in the task. Signed by: _________ stood there when Thranuilas passed the freshly-written contract to Shea, handing him the quill and offering the vial, still on the chain around his neck.

"Just sign on the long line at the bottom. I will do the same."

[nephero]

Shea Ru sat back, one eyebrow raised as the redhead before him rummaged around for... what have you. His eyebrows were in very real danger of disappearing straight into his hair, or at least until Thranuilas pulled out what seemed to be simple writing instruments. He narrowed his eyes a bit, but otherwise kept his easygoing smile.

"A contract? Now, don't get me wrong, I think it a very good move to try and protect yourself, lad, but I'm wondering if a bit of paper is really going to do much to stop..." He glanced over the terms and conditions, looking more amused by the minute, "...any of this."

He continued to look down over the elegant letters-- this one really had excellent penmanship-- and more importantly, over the exact wording of the contract. It seemed to be a terribly long time for something so simple, but while Shea continued to smile, the gesture did not reach his eyes, which remained cold and calculating.

"The language is murky in places, you may want to refine it. For instance, there is a very broad spectrum of things that may or may not fall under the topic of 'use', which may or may not be beneficial to both parties in, say, a dire situation. There was this one point where I was working with this big hulking mountain of a man, and we had ourselves back up against this cliff, see? And so I start climbing him, and he's howling and cursing at me right up until I lower a root from the top of the cliff so he can climb up as well."

He looked amused at the memory, but soon coughed, and waved his hand vaguely towards the contract in his hand. "Just saying, it's for future reference."

Still, he made very little moves in the way of actually signing, instead idly twirling the quill in between two fingers.

"Now, to a very real point, and I expect you'll be open and honest with me, but am I to understand that this is very mundane writing, and you're not, say, attempting to curse me without my knowledge? Because I might mind that."

[Anadwen]

"Ah, why would I curse you?" Thranuilas replied, softly shaking his head. To demonstrate that he himself didn't mean anything bad by his actions, he took the writing instruments back for a moment, and signed the parchment with an even more tilted and more ornate handwriting on the bottom of the page. "Here you go. Satisfying? After all, a contract like that is only an informal document with which which we can assure each other that we won't be going after our throats."

The gaze of his emerald-green eyes grew dark at that moment. "I might have forgotten one thing. The moment one of us attempts to do anything that would threaten the other one's life... It automatically gives the victim a right to counterattack and kill. Just a little casualty." he added, casually running the soft end of the black feather up his cheek.

"The fact that I have fae blood doesn't mean I'm a demon that steals souls by contracts." he attempted to joke, waving a hand at the thing, and laughing softly. "I wouldn't be able to do that even if I was full fae."

How much of that was really true was questionable. Beneath Thranuilas' beautiful outside could be many things.

[nephero]

Shea Ru watched Thranuilas carefully, even as the quill was taken from him. Briefly, his eyes dropped to the parchment, only to flick back up as if waiting to see if there was any... unnatural effect. When he saw none, or thought he saw none, he relaxed a fair bit.

"Now, why would you curse me? It's a fair question, certainly, but I've heard of folk doing far worse with far less motivation." He took the quill back then, and dipped it into the vial. He pulled the parchment back towards himself, and gave a low chuckle at the warning. "Considering this line of word, lad, I don't think you need a contract to counterattack. But, if it will ease your conscience to know I signed my permission to be killed, here you are."

He scratched out a signature, far less elegant but seemingly made for legibility, short bold letters connecting his name.

"And I wasn't worried about my soul. That, I think, is long gone by this point." He snorted, amused by his own joke, and pushed the contract back towards the redhead. "Now, back to business?"

[Anadwen]

"Most definitely." Thranuilas agreed. He picked the contract up, studying the signature for a moment, to lay it back down. Before he rolled it into a small tube, a gust of warm wind blew over it - or so it seemed. Strange, since all doors and windows were closed, and the wind felt like the breeze that blows through a desert, not the strong winds in a storm.

To all surprises, or maybe not, he put the rolled contract under his robe. It was a fairly tight and elegant robe, made of a delicate dark fabric, but it could sure conceal a lot of things that were pressed onto Thranuilas' thin figure. Various other contracts, a few thin blades...

"Do you have any information about what this strange thing that kidnaps those villagers might be? I really can't think of anything that would be interested in such ugly, backwards people." he spoke, silently, but with a slight mischievous undertone with the second sentence, which grew to become a smirk on his face. His green eyes appeared almost like that of a cat when he was grinning in such a way, seeming almost childish.

[nephero]

His dining companion, however, didn't seem very amused at the thought of strange winds blowing, and it seemed to take some very real effort on his part to keep smiling. His eyes grew darker with each passing moment they spent fixed on Thranuilas' robes, though they did seem to light up just a bit at the inquiry towards the job in question.

He leaned back in his chair, nudging at the table's base with one booted foot, and rocked back onto the chair's hind legs in an idle sort of motion. His arms folded tightly across his chest, Shea Ru gave a little hum in prelude.

"Some. What little I managed to get out of an old, tired and frightened man, at any rate. It seems that what's been plaguing them is only interested in the strongest of bodies. Now, if this were a predator of some variety, some simple beast only out for food, it wouldn't go after the village's strongest. It'd pick off the sick, or infirm, or..."

He paused in his talk while the young waitress went by their table, as if to spare her his following words. Only once she passed, did he continue. "The very young. What we are looking at is sentient, with some higher purpose in it's dealings than mere sustenance. While that narrows the field quite a bit, that doesn't much count in our favor."

[Anadwen]

"If it goes after the strong, then I think I'm outside its hunting ground!" Thranuilas laughed lightly, narrowing his eyes as he spoke, and flicking a few red wisps behind his ear. "Though, I must disagree with you at the last thing. Fighting sentient enemies is, in my humble opinion, easier than battling beasts. Beasts are reckless. You can predict the movements of a sentient opponent, and rather easily learn the pattern of their steps in most cases."

What has paid out in battle a lot of times.

"Do you have any idea what kind of creature it might be, then? By the description so far, I would presume a demon, vengeful spirit of kinds, or an angry fae. Those fit both the sentience and the secrecy, judging that the majority of people is unable to see spirits, and fae and demons can often appear invisible." As far as he knew, only those gifted with magic could perceive ghosts.