Hither and Yon (Devon Aster)

[Anonymous]

Forest.

Alish had read of such, and from his gleanings imagined something different than the seemingly endless expanse of trees and their chaos of intertwining branches which created a carpet above his head that largely blocked out the sky. As daybreak came to the wood and as the moon retired to a day of slumber, the sun struggled over the cloud strewn sky above to claim its position at the height of the world.  Through breaks in the branches Alish noticed the transition but paid it no heed.

He was hunting.

Sliding through the shadows of the countryside, Alish moved soundlessly through the restless foliage and silence walked with him. Birds shivered in their branches as he tread beneath them, their happy songs momentarily stilled in their throats. His was an unnatural presence, an oppressiveness which was as undeniable as it was transitory, and like the moon passing before the sun, less than a ghost of a memory remained in his wake. No sooner would he disappear from sight than the wildlife once more began their morning revelry.

His blank eyes brightly surveyed the land around him, searching for signs of menace behind every bend and ambush at every oppourtunity. His movements were languid, and slow, but in his stride he illustrated perfect control over every movement of his body, a liquid grace which permiated his every action. Like a stalking panther he struck the perfect balance between economy of motion and poise.

A tenative wind picked up, causing leaves to take flight from their restful repose on the ground and his dawn coloured cloak to move about him almost as though it possessed a life of its own. One leather bound fist reached for his waist, fingers sliding over the pommel of his blade. Cocking his head to the side, as though fixing his attention on a some distant sound, he pauses mid step and waits.

A week he spent waiting in Cerenis for his contact, a week spent idle as he waited upon word of his sister. A storm descended upon the port with abandon and Alish debated checking upon his vessel lying in its birthing as the tempest's sudden severity silenced the normal waterfront cacophany. Retiring from his room and taking the stairs down to the common area which adjoined the entrance, Alish had nearly attained the doors when they suddenly flung themselves open with such force the sound of their contact with the wall could be heard in every corner of the inn.

Filling the entry way was a heavily muscled man of grim visage and sour disposition draped in subtly shining chain and named Uno. From his back jutted two doublehanded hilts, which Alish knew from experience belonged to two exceedingly ugly falchions, though the man had but one eye to guide them with. An eye, it could be said with propriety, which held no small amount of menace at that particular moment. From the unsmiling wound which served as Uno's mouth dropped a single word:

"Saat'bas"

No sooner had the word fallen from his lips than a map was offered from his mailed fist. A map of the Draconi Forest where Alish could find a demigod possessing the singular ability to uncover the location of any being on the planet. Alish had never hunted a god before, and he would look forward to the challenge

[Anonymous]

Something was in the woods.  Saat'bas slowly raised his head from where he'd been resting, stretched out in the deep cool shade of a large tree.  There was an odd feeling in the air.  It wasn't a scent or a sound.  It was something else he couldn't quite identify.  The sensation went along lines that he wasn't used to carrying such an energy.  A shiver ran over his skin even though the day was pleasant enough.

He let out a low, nervous growl.  He didn't much like this.  Moving his head about slowly, he focused his senses on his surroundings.  Nothing.  Nothing that he could detect anyway.

That didn't ease the strange skitterings under his skin.  Perhaps it was time to move on.  Saat'bas had been in this area for a while.  New grounds, new forests.  He hadn't had much luck with the village nearby in either hunting or finding playmates.  He needed to find other beings who were willing to indulge a few pleasures.

The prospect of it brightened Saat'bas' mood.  He pushed up off the ground, settling into his usual all-fours crouch.  He sniffed the air.  That sensation was still there.  He tried to hone in on its source, the direction it was coming from, so he could travel away from it.  Unfortunately, he couldn't.  It was still too vague.  It seemed to hang like a faint echo everywhere.

With another short growl, he chose a direction.  He didn't want to stay here any longer.  He slipped into the underbrush, his green skin helping him to hide among the foliage.  His hands and feet were silent as he crept along.  He stayed alert for any signs of danger.

[Anonymous]

The moment passed and Alish continued his stalk through the trees. As he journeyed the foliage began to give way to grasses which in turn faded into tendrils of moss, the moss itself disappearing into dank fertile earth. Though soft and somewhat loamy, the delicate soil appeared unmolested even as he stood over it, as though registering its defiance to his presence and refusing him the right to leave so much as an imprint to mark his passing. If Alish noticed, he does not appear overly concerned.

Time passed. Seconds and then minutes. Hours. More.

When the mid-day sun sought to check upon the lord's progress, it found him perched like a malignant gargoyle upon an oak's high bough balancing his weight upon his toes. He has been in that position for hours, gazing upon the terrain and surrounding area, memorizing its features for possible use later, and now the afternoon was swiftly approaching. His canvas cloak twisted about him as a light breeze brushed it, when the wind began to pick up it started to flutter about as if trying to remove itself from him and take flight. His forearms were balanced upon his knees, his gloves removed and laid at his feet, with his hands hanging limply away from his body and flexing with impatience - But that was the closest thing to an emotion for naught was betrayed by his barren features. If anything, he appeared almost disinterested with everything, at least until catching sight of something slinking amidst the bushes.

Surely this creature was not the deity he sought. It moved like a beast upon all fours, and while its steps were carefully placed and cautious, it carried itself as though unconcerned with danger. It seemed to Alish that this godling had grown lethargic from its affluent lifestyle. Soft. Like a once wild animal unaware that its tenure in tranquility had made it weak. The thought arises within his mind unaccompanied by emotion, yet deep within himself a coldly burning hatred begins to build. For the wild god and the wasted potential of its existance. It is an unquenchable fire which can only be smothered if saturated in blood.

Offering a silent, but fervent prayer to the Builder, he asks for an oppourtunity to being salvation to its tortured soul. But not yet.

Before the shark thinks of games, first it satifies its hunger.

'I would have words with you beast god'

[Anonymous]

Saat'bas wasn't as unconcerned as he might have appeared.  That sensation was there, like a buzzing down his spine.  But he still couldn't place it.  Then it began to grow rather abruptly.  As if he approaching the source of it.  His ears were open to any odd sounds and his nose scenting for a presence.  HIs antennae twitched a few times.  Before he could pin it down, there came a voice.

'I would have words with you beast god'

His body tensed, his head came around swiftly.  It was easy to zero in the man's location now that he'd spoken.  And he seemed to be the cause of the disturbance.

Saat'bas growled deep in his chest.  His claws flexed, digging little hollows in the soil.  This thing... this human... didn't register right with his senses.  There was something off, something unusual.  Something he couldn't remember encountering before.  His thoughts on that track, though, were somewhat stalled when what the man had said came to the fore of his mind.

Beast god?  He scowled, offended.  He was no god and not too happy about being called one.  That wasn't his place.  The human either didn't know what he sought or else had mistaken him for another.  He bared his fangs for several seconds to indicate he was no mood to be harrassed by this strange man.

[Anonymous]

The smile gracing Alish's lips was wry, almost amused, save that it never touched his eyes. Eyes void of pupil and iris, merely twin pools of murky radiance resting beneath a thin irridescent sheen. Eyes infinately cold and devastatingly calculating. Quiet reigned between them while Alish held Saat'bas' stare evenly, not in an attempt to unnerve or intimidate, but simply waiting for the first move to be made. Once Alish was baptized before battles with surges of adrenaline which would flood his system and heighten his senses, but no longer. He had not felt pressed in combat for years, and at such moments as before a frey was joined, he felt only an unearthly calm. No, calm was the wrong word, it was a Zen-like knowldge of the moment, rendering time malleable and perception infinate. And it was in this fashion that he contemplated the creature before him as he slipped Raunen Song from its scabbard.

Ah Raunen Song, a sword as famous amongst the Rovac as the man who weilds it. Scribed along its slender ebony length were runes representing the names of ten thousand wizards, the ancient enemies of Rovac. Every rune was a death pledge dedicating the blade to the task of ending their lives. Every rune accounted for and resolved. Grazing it with his lips, Alish blessed it with his death giving touch and brought his bare to blade as he descended from the branches of the oak which had held him for so very long.

Landing on his toes, he fell nimbly into a partial crouch, sword raised until the pommel was even with his brow and perfectly upright, angled sharply backwards. Seemingly leaving him unprotected, the high guard Alish favoured was actually much better suited to combat than any other he had come across. Whether strike, parry, feint or guard, every movement naturally led the sword back to its original position allowing for quick and seemless transitions between attack and defense without giving one's opponant the oppourtunity to guess what would come next through a shift in his stance.

'If you wish my blade to speak for me Saat'bas, so be it, but ware she has a sharper tongue than I.'

[Anonymous]

Saat'bas' ears pricked up at the mention of his name.  So this human knew of him and had sought him out.  For whatever purpose he couldn't guess.  Not that he cared at the moment.  When the man had moved to the ground, a somewhat disorienting wave had flowed over him.  It was like having half his senses suddenly cut off.  He could still hear and smell and see, but everything was partly muted, not as sharp as he was used to.  He felt disconnected as well.  Something was wrong... a veil between him and a part of the world he couldn't quite touch any more.

He growled again, more loudly.  He rose to his feet and his fingers curved.  The claws extended a bit, though not as much as he wanted.  This man was not likely to leave him be.  And that, really, was all Saat'bas desired right now.  His thoughts were muddled enough that fighting seemed a good way to gain that.

A hissing sort of roar preceded his movement by a bare second.  His arms were already up and poised to strike as soon he as he was close enough.  But it seemed the attempt ended almost as soon it began.

Saat'bas came to an abrupt halt, teetering slightly before settling back on both feet.  It looked like he'd been grabbed by some invisible hand.  It had felt that way, too.

His head tilted back as the rage faded from his face.  His expression was unfocused, but whether his attention had shifted to something very deep within himself or something very far beyond was unclear.  Nature was making itself known.  Not a god or goddess, it was beneath and over and around that.  It wasn't a controlled sentient consciousness, but the very essence itself that seemed to be pulsing through his mind.

And it was confusing him.  It was extremely rare that Nature forbade him to kill, or even attack, another.  It was the balance of things, the very basic law, the dance of Life and Death.  But that was what was happening.

The tension eased from Saat'bas' muscles.  His hands lowered, the claws that had been ready to tear flesh pulled back to their normal resting length.  The communion ended and he turned his face back towards the man.  He wasn't comfortable with this, he wasn't happy, but he couldn't go against Nature.  Not when it had been so terrifyingly blatant.

His posture subltly switched, non-threatening, but still holding a wild gracefullness.  Now that he was upright, it was easier to see that he wore very little.  There was nothing more than a vine with large leaves encircling his waist.  He didn't return to his crouch.  He had no reason to trust this human.  Nature certainly made no promises on how this encounter would end.  Finally, he communicated as was his usual, with a thought, the words intoned by an androgynous sounding "voice."

What does he want with this one?

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(OOC:  I have no idea if Saat'bas' telepathy will even work or get through.  I'll leave that to be your call.)

[Anonymous]

Raunen Song descended swiftly, point first, to deeply penetrate the scabbard it had left a life-time ago. Ignorant to the nature of his adversary's hesitation, Alish chose to believe that the beast resigned itself to it's proper station - Which was of course that of submission.

Was he not Elkor Alish? Warrior of Rovac and Leader of Men? Had he not singly held the breach at Enerlorff and led the sally which opened the gates of Hiemal Amaranthine  - giving them the city in a single night what a ten year of siege could not avail? Why then would this demigod not surrender when confronted with this descendant of the Favoured Blood. And while one could say his self evaluations were optimistic, it was true that Alish had swum through an ocean of blood to come to these distant shores, thus it was he considered his opinions modest and himself to be a humble man to be so modest concerning such grand achievments.

'Beast you surely are, but at least you are capable of reason. Good, for on this day I did not come to spill your blood but to ask a boon. I seek someone, and rumour has it you are an oracle.'

Truth be known, Alish was more ready to believe Saat'bas was nothing of the sort, but the Rovac believed such things as oracles were possible and he was receptive to the possibility.

Pity the Rovac! So long seperated from their mainland dwelling cousins that for they Le'Raana had become a place where every fable and legend wore flesh. As children they listened with rapt attention to tales of fairy towers lying in the Deep South inhabited by dwarves with red felt trousers, purple suede shoes, brown velvet jackets and blue noses whom granted wishes to warriors that could slay the immortal elf and make the talking rabbit laugh. That there existed only three types of Higher Beings - Namely men (including lesser variations limited only to Dwarves, Elves and sometimes Sparglats {things which defied description and lived only in stories shared amongst the post-pubescent adolescents}), Daemons and Gods and finally that their destiny was to rid the world of all unnatural abherrations (magic users, daemons, ghosts and windmills) in order to secure an uncontested place for humanity.

Fortunately for the green man Alish believed him a god, for had he known Saat'bas was no divinity, noforce on earth would have stayed his blade. Fortunate, perhaps, for them both that they now exchanged words rather than blows.

'My sister is lost to me. Something has occoured whilst I was away, and her shame has driven her to this place. Find her for me.'

Crossing his arms and spreading his legs, Alish assumed a position of waiting which suggested he could hold it comfortably for aeons if necessary. It was the posture of a man well used to recieving obedience even in the face of unreasonable expectations, It was quite obvious he forsaw no further impedimentia and anticipated an immediate and forthcoming resolution to his quest.

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Telepathy. Now that's an interesting question. Are psionics liminal in nature? Would that fall under magical or metaphysical?

Well, personally, we're all here for fun, and maximum fun forces me to allow it ;)

[Anonymous]

Saat'bas laughed.  It was the sound one might expect a panther or a lion to make, if it was possible.  The husky semi-roar filling the air.  His head rolled back in his amusement and then returned to its previous position.  He was grinning in a way that didn't seem very pleasant.  The tone of his words carried more than a hint of his mirth.

Is no oracle.  Does he come without Knowledge to ask.

He turned, taking a few steps away, before directing his closed-eyes gaze over his shoulder.  The grin faded, replaced with lips lifted more in a snarl.  He made an impatient wave with his hand.

Does he find a willing blood-hound.  Or perhaps a fortune reader, or pray at the altar of the gods of Time who know the threads of past and future.

Saat'bas moved again, once more taking a few steps, his strides echoing with the untamed ways of Nature.  But he didn't go far and his path curved so that when he stopped he was facing the man.  The curl of his mouth was lessened, though no less displeased.  He was already beginning to feel the shift.  His mood quickening to fulfill this desire spoken to him and an unnerving pull that came from the same source that forbid his usual reaction to such an arrogant demand.  He pointed one clawed finger at the other.

Is not afraid of his blade.  Does he wish to tear the flesh and cause this one's blood to stain the earth, is he free to do so.  Have played the prey before.  Have tread the dance of Life to Death to Life.

He went silent then.  The conflict that was building inside was distracting.  Much longer and it he might give in.  He didn't care much if the man killed him, at least it would end the confusion and he could move on to somewhere else.

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(OOC:  That was what I was wondering.  I suppose it could be explained that since Saat'bas and Elkor (as a Mordecai) are both connected to nature, that nature itself might be allowing the connection where it otherwise wouldn't happen.)

[Anonymous]

'Lovely boy, it is not a matter of whether or not I will kill you, but how long I will allow you to die. You will learn not to trifle with me'

Unfortunately for Saat'bas, the Rovac had no concept of war crimes. Fortunately, there was an understood if unspoken acceptance that some actions, such as systematic genocide, were considered excessive and others (like keeping a prisoner alive by feeding them strips of their own flesh) were largely frowned up. Unfortunately torture was not one of them, and Alish was a skilled interrogator - Skilled enough to know that there were limits to everything.

Like his patience.

'Now listen to my words carefully: I seek to enlist your aide in this matter and you will find my sister - By any and all means at your disposal or the hell I finally send you to will seem like heaven after what I've done to you.

'Do we have an understanding?'

[Anonymous]

Saat'bas grinned, amused at the man's statements.  He chuckled slightly.  How little the man knew.  So small minded, so like a mortal.  He spread his arms, almost in invitation.  He was not a creature given to buckling under intimidation and threats.  The only danger here was the constant tug from his own inclinations.  And that of Nature.

Can he tame the flesh-eating agents, invisible to the eye, and bend them to his will?  Does he know the methods of Balmoral who keeps his pets beyond even natural Life so they may entertain him with their wails?

He raised his hands towards the sky, his words seeming a little louder.

Has he the power of the gods of Terrok, who chained this one to the Void for a thousand years?

There was another chuckle and he lowered his arms, returning his attention to the man.  He paused and tried to ignore the continued shift in his own thoughts.  The man's arrogance did make it a little easier.

Have endured more than any mortal mind can conceive.  Is he powerless to take from this one that which Life has given.  Hell is Death's realm and has no place for this one.

[Anonymous]

Alish considered the situation almost idly, leaning up against the oak tree in a manner so at ease it bordered on insolence. When he deigned to speak, it seemed as though it was of his own volition rather than in response to Saat'bas.

'It sounds as though you've been bent over by many masters. The next time you give recital to that list, you'll be mentioning my name first.'

Alish maintained his posture impassively, weighing the varied reactions the godling before him had offered during the course of their discussion. First had been the sudden, heated expression of anger possessing lethal implications followed by an almost reckless agitation. His emotions evidently ran deep, and evocated equally strong reactions, but Alish had found that the strongest emotions were those which were controlled and properly directed. Unlike the beast before him, he would not allow himself to be moved by his feelings, and therefore knew he had the upper edge in this standoff, if standoff it surely was.

Allowing his head to loll backwards as Alish closed his eyes and inhaled the afternoon cool. . . later, fixing the beast in his gaze once more, he noticed now the absolute tension and rigidity of his stance. As though he were holding back a rage fit to burn the world asunder, but only by a hair. Oddly he was not concerned in the slightest, truth be known what he felt was something close to amusement which some might see as overweened arrogance - But what many mistook for arrogance was in actuality confidence built upon years of experience.

Many years of experience.

'I have witnessed sights which have left strong men shattered. Caused them to hide from the world while their nightmares pool and puddle at their feet and I will show them to you if you force my hand.

'Now, will you help me find my sister.'

[Anonymous]

Saat'bas' answer came swiftly... in the form of his claws being suddenly buried in the bark of the oak that the man was leaning against.  He had moved with an almost demonic speed.  The sort that came from unbridled wrath coupled with the blessing of the energy allowed him in this life-filled place. The long and elegant hands were braced, one on each side of that arrogant human's head.  His lips pulled back, fangs bared just inches from the other man's face.  His chest heaved with each breath.  He drew himself up in defiance of the disorienting aura.

But even pushed as he was, he hadn't been able to trespass the line dictated to him.  It only served to heighten his rage.  And to make his thoughts descend into a more chaotic state.  When he finally responded, the impression was less of clear words and more of the emotions behind them, like an animal trying to speak.

Have no masters.  Will not be broken.  Will not be contained.  Is not concerned with mortal nightmares.  Paltry reflections on the surface of what is possible in Life.

His words trailed off, as though for the moment he'd forgotten how to communicate in a way a human would understand.  He dragged his claws downward.  Bits of bark and wood rained down on the shoulders of the man's cloak.

Saat'bas couldn't think nearly so well now.  The buzzing, muting effect of the Mordecai was oppressive at this close range.  It dulled his senses.  Anger made it difficult to hold on to his thoughts, to force them into a coherent whole rather than the quicksilver flow from one emotion and idea and memory to another.  The increasing confusion distracted him somewhat from the severe insult he'd received, his mind slipping around even as he tried to concentrate, and no doubt this was beginning to show.

[Anonymous]

Once again, Alish wore an imperviable masque which concealed all emotion, but his eyes rang with mocking laughter. Raising a single finger, he set it against the beasts lips as though seducing him towards silence with his gentle touch. He had his answer, now. Despite the tantrum, or perhaps in spite of it, Saat'bas would serve him.

Why else would he not strike? Even as a cur might bark at its master it will never bite. Fear, respect, resignation holds its impulses in check.

'Go.'

Alish's face suddenly opened into a grin and though his baring of teeth held a feral edge which did more than suggest the savagery inherent in his nature, more disturbing was the sense of madness lurking darkly behind it. His lips curled back like ruined flesh over a rotting wound revealing flawless rows of pristinely white teeth which seemed to glow entirely too brightly by waning light of the now setting sun. His eyes also appeared eerily lit for a moment, and unsettlingly intent. Those strangely eyes stared at the godling with an intensity which left no doubt as to whether or not he could see without pupils. The brightness lasted less han a heartbeat before it became eclipsed by crackling blue light, vibrant and electric, which seemed to almost pour out of his sockets at times, leaving indistinct colour trails to mark where they had once been.

'Do not fail me.'

[Anonymous]

Saat'bas just stood there, claws still locked in the bark of the tree.  That touch had done more, perhaps, than the human realized.  It acted like a magnet to draw all attention and thought to a single point.  That gentle contact soothed the whirling in his mind.  It was all the more potent for the tenstion that had preceded it.  A strike he would have expected and could have fought against.  But not this.

The tautness eased from his muscles.  His posture shifted, the rage draining away and leaving behind only that wild-edged grace.  His expression was no longer a snarl, but something almost indefinable.  There was a quiet rumbling sound that seemed somewhere between a purr and growl.

If Saat'bas could feel any shame, he might have at that reaction.  But he didn't, so it didn't concern him.  He pulled his talons free of the oak.  He didn't drop his arms, however, rather he rested his hands against the wounded wood.  There was a moment he seemed to be studying the man just as intently as the man was gazing at him.  This was no mere human, perhaps, though the veil continued to hide the things that might confirm it.  Only the manifestations displayed aroused his suspicions.

The man's command brought his attention back to the matter at hand.  The words were once more distinct, though lacking the previous irritation and rage.

Does he truly desire this.  So great his desire does he hunt this one.  There was a slight pause, as though some thoughts were being examined and discarded.  His tone becomes more firm, maybe even carried a hint of irritation.  Does he wish for this one to seek his sister, must he provide the means to indentify her.  A scent, a name, a location.  Cannot pluck such things from the air.

[Anonymous]

'I have a name, one true and the other assumed: My sister was born Danae Alish, Seat of Innismouth, she travels as Nimue Bregus. Commonality we have in our cause, but also in our combined lack of answers. There is nothing more you can learn from me.'

Even as the words were uttered by him, his mind was elsewhere. Alish was a being of purpose and therefore not inclined to waste time with trivialities like conversation. Having accomplished the task set before him, his time could only be squandered unless he utilized it to further his pursuit. Time. . .was running out.

Besides, he had an appointment to keep, though his hosts had yet to learn of it.

As though there was nothing left to discuss Alish ducked beneath the enclosing arms arrayed about him and turned to leave. Striding out into the dark, which awaited him like a forlorn lover, he stopped only once to bid Saat'bas luck before disappearing into the night.

[Anonymous]

Saat'bas turned and watched as the human walked off.  He was right back to being annoyed.  The low growling returned.  He took a few steps after the man, a dark scowl on his face.  So arrogant to think that he should know this woman.  As though this sister was something more important than all the other Life on this world.

Do not know these names, do not know this woman, do not know that place.  Does he give no scent to track.

His movements became agitated, pacing back and forth along a short path though he went no farther after the other.  He wasn't even sure the man was still listening.  Not that it seemed to matter much, since he continued.

Does he ask with no Knowledge.  Does he not understand the way to hunt and find.  Does he give no destination to take the woman, no way to contact once she is found.  Cannot find without a scent.

He received no answer other than the rise and fall of a cooling wind.  The man had left, giving no other help.  The anger built until it was released as a roar towards the heavens.  He stalked away, opposite of the path the human had taken, striking at an outreaching branch in frustration.  Several leaves were torn and cut and fluttered down to the ground.  He continued on his way, into the deepening shadows of the twilight.

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(OOC:  Edited to add the end paragraph, to bring it in line with the current plot.)