The Tower of Uthlyn! [Open!]

[Echtronis]

Beneath Alainoth's Temple

The spidery drone, powered by a necrofied heart, scuttled along the ceiling of the tunnelways for an almost suspicious amount of time. If this temple had been built for a Fae, then it was one of madness, or secrets, or both. along the blood glyph-spotted walls were motifs carved clearly by ancient hands. Lacking in detail, yet intricate, they displayed a series of ancient battles, along with other strange events of what could only be great acts of trickery or mischief, it was hard to tell by the glow of the clattering creature Xerordir followed, escorted by the two skeletons he had taken from whoever held the temple now.

However, the drone paused after Xerordir spoke those words. The glyphs appeared to have activated again, that awful voice returning. "A GOD?!" The cackling that ensued was something that would irritate a demon. The drone moved on as tiny flecks would flutter off the various glyphs from the vibrations of the dungeon's host. "That despicable murderer of knowledge! To think that I have awoken in an age where he could be revered as so! Perhaps it is fate that gives me now the opportunity to cull such fools that would look up to the heavens in search of -Angsar-!" More cackling. "I expected the Collegiate might not have survived, they had weakened themselves internally long before the Slayer of Wizards came. It pleases me to see that the Art still survives, Necromancer!"

The surroundings began to become something more familiar to one of said Art, as twisting, downward pathways would bring into wider catacombs. Through thick barred grates scattered along the walls and floor. seemed filled with refuse of necromantic experimentation. Abandoned torsos gutted of their bones, piles of skins and furs left rotting, chewed upon by even more of the misshapen rats that just didn't seem to move as jerkily as rats should. In cross sections of the maze of corridors, animated corpses of man and beast watched from the darkness, groaning in that lovely way that they do, and seemed to actively step away as Xerordir would pass by, as if showing respect for their guest. "Ah, we have arrived!" The walls cried once more as the drone made a turn to a great metal door , covered in designs of many humanoid figures bowing in prayer, but to what was not certain, at that part of the door's mural seemed to have been violently scratched out with deep cuts. "Welcome, Necromancer!" The door flew open from the inside with an icey blast of wind.

Inside was some round grand hall, whether it was meant for religious or celebratory use, it was unclear. It seemed the majority of the bones that would have filled the catacombs behind had been moved to this room, however, and the stone statues that had been carved into the curving walls had their faces replaced with skulls. Along the back wall, however, was an immense, impossible work of machinery, full of large crescent looking cogs, vials full of unknown liquids, and all manner of bizarre, and somehow ancient seeming metal parts that led from a large, central glass cylinder, partially filled with a glowing blue fluid. Attached to the top and bottom of the cylinder were a myriad of hoses composed of bits of smooth skin patched together, and those hoses connected to strange pods that held what seemed to be still-living people, though hardly conscious.

Before all that, an immense figure, wrapped almost entirely in soaked burlap, reached out sickening hooked appendages to a large, bronze circular grating, and dragged it off like a large lid of sorts. The bones that lined the base of the curved walls rattled, and skeletons began dragging themselves free, yanking tattered banners free from their resting spots, standing as standard bearers for the lich, Dhalekar, as he rose from the large tunnel revealed by the ogre. Draped in faltering robes that must of been old as the temple, he would not seem much more imposing than the other skeletons around, but there was a strange gleam in the thin flesh that covered his visible bones, and there was an undeniable presence of magic that emanated from him as he hovered above from whatever depths were below. His eye sockets were empty, there was nothing of flesh that was important to this being, merely a vessel for which to focus upon when he spoke, his voice clearly coming from an origin as ethereal as the invisible, necromantic chains that bound him to the dead around him. "Ahhh" He spoke, or rather echoed, "It is a good sign that the first I meet in person is a student of the Art. I am Dhalekar, Lich Lord of the Nosferti, and I believe we have much to discuss..."

[Echtronis]

Uthlyn Commons

Ah, so she was educated. Jobias did notice a certain gentleness to her hand when she reached it to the wires before that made him wonder if she had a privileged background, she certainly didn't come off as a workhorse like the smith down Applewhich anyway. But then there was that common tongue again when she spoke of her colleague's linguistic acumen that stripped away any logic from him that Olive came from any higher shelf of social strata, unless of course, she has spent a good time amongst the regular folk of Uthlyn, as he has known some families are want to do with sending certain relatives off to the... the College, ah, she was a lark in a gilded cage who has managed to keep her wings from being clipped for a day. Finally the pieces were starting to come together.

Entirely pleased with this revelation, he began to say something very clever, but it was Olive who spoke first, with questions of her own no less. Though he kept a stone face, Jobias couldn't help but admire this sort of reckless tenacity this young woman seemed to enjoy throwing around. That, and with the bit of having something to prove over the men in her class, reminded him of Lady Moira, whom which he fought along side with in some of his more fonder memories of his profession, Angsar rest her soul. Looking at Olive go on with her own clever interrogation, he tried to force the mirrored fondness from his mind. Olive was young enough to of been Moira's daughter. By God, even his!

Though she was right, he was letting on more knowledge than he has admitted of being privy to. Not only of that, but she was also onto something with how dreadfully devoid of other customers were in his shop, normally there would be at least two people, and perhaps another going on about the local dreary gossip Jobias tended to ignore and, didn't he have an appointment about now? "That, Olive, is a very good point!" Jobias held up a finger, stepping towards the open doorway that led back to the street before quickening his pace just a moment, catching his hand on the threshold as he looked to something in particular outside.

"Oh!" He exclaimed. "Mister Harroc! No, yes, I can take you, no, I haven't the-, just a moment!" Jobias turned to lean back into the shop, giving a look that seemed half bemused, half accusatory. "I don't suppose this is your tracker scaring away my other clients?"

[Brisinger987]

A Lich. Interesting sight, to say the least. It explained the talk of the false god Angsar's crusade, the Collegiate, the Nosferti, all of it.

"Well... You're a refreshing sight. Those trinkets and necklace parts upstairs, were they yours?" Xerordir looked at the ogre. So the Lich had the standard undead ogre as a pet. Xerordir could top that. A flesh hungry shadow demon topped everything. But Skalos was only a bluff, and there was no need to call him out of rest just yet. He had no reason to call Skalos in as a bluff.

"Nice ogre... Ever raised anything bigger?" Xerordir tested, to see if this ancient being, Dhalekar actually had raised something with skill. Xerordir didn't see an undead lord. He saw a tool, a trinket maker, who could try his designs for nothing, and Xerordir could take them, improve them.

[kleineklementine]

Uthlyn Commons

Olive didn't say anything, unsure at first what Jobias meant. Ah, she realized as he went to the door, customers. Other customers. Olive knew that if the rest of Jobias's clientele was anything like the butcher, she'd hardly be welcome. (Was she welcome now? she wondered. It was strangely hard to tell). And more than that, she bet that once anyone else was in here, the mystery of that wire rat... thing would be swept swiftly away!

On impulse, not thinking, Olive took advantage of the moment that Jobias looked out the door to find his customers. Moving quickly, she snatched the wire contraption and stuffed it awkwardly into the pocket of the loose pants Connlaothian women wore. For some reason, she was surprised when it didn't burn or sting her skin. Why had she expected it to? She'd think about it later. She was quite certain that she wouldn't get away with this for long, but she was also fairly certain that Jobias wouldn't want to make a scene in front of his waiting customers. Especially a scene with a mage.

"What? Dac?" she asked, her face the picture of innocence in defense of her dog. "He wouldn't scare a soul! Look, he's just sleeping." Nevermind that the dog was the size of a bear. "But, if you want him out of the way, fine," she said with a theatrically exasperated sigh. All the while she'd been moving closer to the door, keeping her hands in her pockets and turning to keep the side of her with the wire opposite to Jobias.

She walked a wide circle around Jobias as she exited the shop, turning to walk backwards for a moment as she waved cheerily to the barber (with her other hand, of course!). "Thanks for the interesting morning, Mister Redding!" The dog got up once she was out of the building and padded over to her side, nosing the pocket where she'd shoved the wires. "We'll try to come back soon some time!"

With that, Olive turned and headed quickly down the street, half skipping half jogging. What she hadn't realized yet, and what she would soon, was how stupidly dangerous what she had just done was. Not a danger from Jobias, necessarily, but from anyone who might find her now. Her, a mage. A marked mage. With a mysterious, sinister-looking and clearly magical item.

[Echtronis]

Uthlyn Commons

Old Mister Harroc had a slight fear of dogs, especially mountainous ones as mountainous as trackers, after losing a buttock from one back in his less reputable days of youth. So much was his fear, that even a sleeping Dac was enough to keep him from the barber shop's entrance, even with the pain he desperately needed to see Mister Redding's services for. He was delighted to see Jobias come out to help him in, but it turned out to be some mysterious mage girl to rid the tracker from the premises, herself along with, much to the barber's confusion. Harroc watched Jobias call out "What about your hair?" which Harroc didn't understand, her hair seemed to be one of her better qualities from what the old man could see. The pain in his tooth reminded Harroc of why he was there, and he tugged at Joboas's shirt as he had seemed distracted with the departure of the stranger. "Another fish slip out your net, young man?" The barber gave what Harroc believed to be a rather rude stare.

"What?" Jobias was indeed annoyed. "God, nothing of the sort. How's your tooth?"

"I feel like an angry pixie took a residence in it."

Jobias casually spat onto the street and looked out towards the direction Olive disappeared off to with her tracker, Dac was it?. "Right, well let's see if I can evict it. Doubt it's paying rent anyway." He shook his head and gestured for Harroc to enter. He looked over the houses and shops along the lane, up and to the white tower of Uthlyn. It's bells were just now ringing to herald the end of the morning.

Having done this before, Jobias exchanged the tools in his aprons from those of grooming to crude surgical ones that he had bought out of necessity of his trade one by one. Well, only some were actually bought. Trade was a big part of his profession. Services were always needed, and tools were always required. Harroc usually traded various tools that aided household maintenance, but he wasn't here for a shave and haircut, and actually had offered two bits Connlaothian for payment. Three if Jobias could fix his problem without actually having to remove the tooth.

Poking around inside the old man's mouth, he could see some signs of decay. Holding a lit candle and a small iron lockpick he couldn't for his life remember how he came across, he explored with the pick, following the reactions of pain from Harroc, and taking small breaks to allow the man to imbibe some medical whiskey Jobias kept for such occasions. "Well, Mister Harroc." Jobias wiped his bloodied tool with one of the small linens he kept in his apron. "It doesn't look all that well, but I think we could save it. I'm going to clamp on it, and see if I can relieve some pressure on the humors in it. Take another drink, you may feel some pain. Harroc didn't need to be told twice.

Jobias clamped pliers onto the troublesome tooth, gently at first, and them more firm, gently and very slightly twisting and nudging about, bearing through the wretched groans of his customer, using the sounds as a guide. The process of relieving humors, as he understood, was a gentle and lengthy trial, and the barber felt his mind wander back to his previous visitor, Olive. Why did she leave so suddenly? Did she not need her hair cut after all? Surely he offended her greatly, and did not need to hear anymore after her suspicions of his 'investigator' past were voiced. Still, she did seem so very interested in the strange artifact. Jobias wondered if she felt the same eeriness he did from it, that wretched, obviously arcaned thing, that... that...

"THAT WITCH!" Jobias yanked the pliers to point at the empty space next to his hat where the wires were left, the dramatic gesture heralded by the mad howls of Mister Harroc, who was very suddenly cured of his toothache.

A few minutes full of many apologies later, Mister Harroc had drunkenly stepped out of the shop, pressing a mass of slightly bloodied linens to his mouth. "Two bits Connlaothian then, of course," Jobias said with his best effort of not sounding too guilty for asking as he escorted the old fellow out the door. "Now get you to the apothecary, Mister Harroc, and tell her to put half of the poultice on my tab, yes? There's a good fellow. Thank you, Angsar's Blessings, yes!"

The door was then quickly shut and locked. Jobias stormed to grab his hat off the counter, and shoved through the next door into his home. He threw his apron onto his one large table in the central room, replacing it with a cloak from a wooden stand. Moving to his sleeping chamber, he played out scenarios in his head. Olive had just shown up the same morning as William had with the strange object, she had shown an immediate interest in the thing, and then... and then avoided having any professional work done. And now clearly she had gone with what she had wanted apparently from the very beginning. Jobias paced in his room, findally moving to one end and opened his standing wardrobe. She claimed she didn't know anything about the markings on the metal, but then made it known that she has studied languages, and wasn't the worst in the subject either. 'I mean obviously-' she had cut herself off. "Obviously what?" He heard himself speak aloud, though he didn't mean to.

Clearly the girl knew something that Jobias did not. She was also a mage. None of this sounded well. If she was indeed just a curious student, he knew all too well how people would react to her just carrying around something like that. For all he knew, his Mordecaism was the only thing keeping her magical presence from activating some sort of magical reaction to come from the object. There were many ways that put her in danger, and Jobias felt contrition for having been at fault for that. There was also the possibility that she was indeed a magic-user, and he had let her fool him into getting some sort of weapon back into her hands.

Grabbing his old folding hand-crossbow and longsword from the back of the wardrobe, Jobias equipped himself, concealing the weapons under his cloak. Olive was in danger, but the part that really troubled Jobias was that he was unsure whether he was heading out to protect her, or condemn her.

He left the building from the exit on the house side, and stepped beyond his small garden, tipping his hat with a smile to some friendly, familiar faces before looking down and up to the white tower where the College of Connlaoth had rooted themselves for years. He did not know exactly how he would find her, but the College was a good place to start.

[Echtronis]

Beneath Alainoth's Temple

"Refreshing? Ah, that mess you decided to burn in the temple. No, but I thank you for cleaning up that mess, I had not the mind to bother dealing with the matter.... No, those were the toys of the scholar that found my tomb, and awoken me. Clever enough, and yet, not clever enough."

Dhalekar considered Xerordir's words about the ogre and summoning something 'bigger'. Was this insolent whelp actually posturing before him? Of course he has summoned something 'bigger', bigger, and beyond the simple cage of flesh.  It was enough to anger Dhalekar to consider sapping the life force from Xerordir right there, but, he man did seem rather young, and though the lich's memories were in a haze, the impertinent air of upstart wizards was an all too familiar thing. He was in no hurry now anyhow, and perhaps it would be useful in the long run to have another known familiar with Necromancy.

He simply gestured to Smiles. "Ah yes, the ogre that yet lives, well, in a manner. More an experiment than how did you say, a 'pet'." Dhalekar touched the ends of his boney fingers to eachother. "It hangs forever at the threshold between life, death, and constructed unlife. It does not require the things living vessels require; food, rest, ecetera... I like to keep it moist from time to time however, yet, he is intelligent with his original mind to handle complicated matters for me." Dhalekar considered explaining the fusion of alchemical procedure and necromantic talent that led to Smiles' rather profound existence, but given this newcomer's complete lack of interest in the great machine that loomed over them all in the background, he determined that the technical minutia of procedure would be lost on the poor boy. No, this human before him seemed more of a raw powered sorcerer than a true student of the Art.

"Of course, we all have our youthful days where we toyed with favorite creatures." An airy, hissing chuckle escaped that mocking skeletal jaw. "But I have since learned that it is often more serving to summon smarter than bigger, many, than but one dragon yearning to be slain by a glory devouring knight. Already I have the city outside ridden with my servants, in plain sight to the populace, like flies on an unwitting corpse, fat an unaware of the tiny things that will devour it whole in its design." He moved his hands away from eachother and stretched them out to the great piles of bones around them. "I could bring these bones together into a single serpent to crash down upon you if you are wishing a display of power, but, we are not children, after all, are we, you who enter my domain without a name...?"

[kleineklementine]

Olive slowed her pace as she got a comfortable distance from the barber shop. It appeared she'd been right about Jobias. Maybe he hadn't noticed her taking the contraption - though she'd hardly been very smooth about it - but if he had, he'd been more interested in not causing a scene in front of his customers than in getting it back. She took the item out of her pocket to examine it and, when she touched it again, felt it tingle. That was strange. Quickly, she stuffed it back in her pocket. What to do with it now? It was a mystery, and Olive rather wanted to solve it. She couldn't take it home. If she was found there with an ancient, creepy-looking magical item and word got back to her family, they'd kill her.

Wait.

A realization was forming in Olive's head. Maybe a butcher or a barber or some other unmarked commoner could take something like this to the college to have the professors and scholars look it over. But she couldn't. If she was found with something like this, she wouldn't be in "trouble" with her parents, she'd be in real trouble. With the law.

Realizing this, Olive abruptly changed course on her way to the college. Instead headed into what she knew would be a fairly empty, rundown part town. If she could just get away from people a bit, she could figure out what to do now. As she was walking, wondering what her next move would be, she noticed a rat scurry in the lane ahead of her. It startled her, sure, mostly because it was awfully early in the day for rats to already be running around. But she wasn't one to be too bothered by small things like rodents, so she kept on going, headed nowhere in particular.

Funny, there was another one.

And another.

Olive was already getting a bad feeling when she heard Dac growl. She turned around to see the dog with one large rat in its mouth and a handful more biting at his feet. And then... She looked past the dog. Oh dear lord. There were, easily, at minimum, at least thirty rats following them! This was not good. This was very, very not good. Wearing the mark was one thing, being followed by a small hoard of vermin? Well, that was just asking for trouble! And if she thought her mother would be mad about her hair...

Olive turned down a long, narrow alleyway. She needed to get out of site! She increased her gate at first to a quick walk, but the rats kept up with her. Soon she was full out running until - oh no. Another wall of rats was coming from the other direction! Olive had just enough time to jump onto a stack of crates before the two masses of rats joined. There were hundred of them now. She climbed onto a higher crate to make room for Dac to come up as well. He stayed on the lower crate, growling at the mass of rats.

The girl looked nervously down at the rodents. Perched precariously on the old wooden crates, she was a sitting duck. It was only a matter of time before the rats got her or someone found her like this. And she had no idea which was worse.

[Brisinger987]

"My name is Xerordir. I am right in guessing you are planning something. You have your own contraptions, and no necromancer hides in ruined temples with no reason these days." Xerordir simply looked at the skeletons, and they crumbled into piles of bones, the magic released.

"Tell me Dhalekar, have you ever been possessed by a demon? To have it take control and give you power beyond reckoning? To feel the insatiable lust for blood and violence, the urge to defile everything you come across?" Xerordir summoned a fireball, and, through some mental co-ordination with Kirnardaz, brought Skalos through to the temple.

As the dark magic hit the floor, Kirnardaz teleported Skalos into position, who had been promised a game of fetch with a hellhound if he looked menacing and scary until taken back to Vorax.

The demon stood, straight and tall, menacing as possible, all 8 eyes opening in eerie unison.

"We... Are... SKALOS..." The demon screeched in a horribly unearthly fashion, the tendrils on his back lashing out at random stones in the wall.

[Echtronis]

Beneath Alainoth's Temple

Ice seemed to form out of nowhere, swirling with scattered bones around Dhalekar's form in reaction to Xerordir's incantations, the lich had anticipated the necromancer might of tried something, but he clearly wasn't expecting a demon. Smiles had already begun cowering, the ogre had seen many horrors, but none so offensive as the impossible unreality of demonic presence. Dhalekar himself almost hissed a gasp at the sight of the thing, but, as arrogant as he was powerful, he kept his composure. After all, he could not be killed, not anymore.

"Infernus! You traded yourself to the whims of devils for this power?!" The ice and bones slowed in their vortex, drifting in a calm hover. "It is indeed an impressive display... I can see why a mage would be tempted to strike such a pact,... but, no, I would not give myself to possession; I am subject to my will and my will alone. How much of yourself is truly you, Xerordir? You seek carnage for sake of it's own, bloodlust to feed your masters? I am indeed planning something, and its designs go beyond reckless destruction." A boney finger was raised. "Though... as for carnage, it does have its uses, I am forced to admit. I do not wish to hide in decrepit, ruined temples for long. As a survivor the Nosferti, I am to rebuild the Collegiate, yes, I must, and the city outside shall become the nexus from which I reign. I am devising something special to turn its witless inhabitants to my will, a gift of magic and ingenuity that will serve to bring the Art back to its strength I knew so long before... Tell me, Xerordir, my influence yet is only so strong, perhaps there is a way you and your..." He dared to look upon the face of Skalos "associate, can assist me in gaining foothold over the city. In exchange, well, what is it you wish for, Xerordir? Why have you come to this place? Is it the ancient knowledge of the Nosferti? Surely not even the Infernal Palace is privy to all that was held by the Collegiate's knowledge of the secrets of Necromancy. What of when you inevitably perish? Surely your soul would become the play-thing of the devils, but what if you could assure your soul is forever kept in the realm of material? Say you your desires, Xerordir, and you shall benefit greatly from the rebirth of the Nosferti Empire!"

The Streets of Uthlyn
Midday

After turning down yet another eager vendor, this one desperate to rid his stock of fish before the noon sun made them more unappealing than the trek to get them to Uthlyn already had made them, Jobias kept a determined pace towards the College, the belltower his guide. He had kept his mind solely on the plight of the mage-girl, Olive, and did not realize how rude he must of been to the familiar people about the street. He wondered how he would talk to the people of Uthlyn's college to inquire into Olive's whereabouts without giving her away to dangerous suspicion. He was still unconvinced either way if she was a victim of circumstance (Though then again, no one had asked her to take the rune-carved wires), or someone actually worthy of that dangerous suspicion. In his early career before taking up the shears, he had seen too many mages put to the pyre that had only been loosely associated with darker designs beyond their knowledge or intention. If he ended up responsible for the unjust persecution of an innocent girl, why..."

"Hay Mister!" the call of a street urchin derailed Jobias' train of thought.

"Not now, child, I am busy." Jobias quickly noted the filthiness of the boy, and silently cursed himself to have done so, as eye contact with the crafty children of the city only encouraged them to bother one further.

"Yer the barber ain'tcha? Willin' ta lend some bits fer poachin' these'ere rats, Mister? Clean up your streets, make it right'n'clean fer yer customers?!"

Rats?

Jobias stopped and turned to the kid. "What are you going on about, boy, speak quickly!"

The urchin boy gleamed, the promise of a mark already dangling food and possibly some sweets for his day. "Rats, sah! They're all over the place, y'know! Nasty things. I found a whole mess of em down the way, willin' ta get me hands dirty fer a coin a'head!"

Jobias looked to the tower, then back to the boy. So much talk of rats today, what was going on? "What do you mean, 'a whole mess'?"

"Droves of em sah! Me and tha mates got us some nice sticks to-" the boy's words that came after sounded awfully practiced. "Ensure the betterment of the community's daily assurance of sanctity, ... for some Connlaothians, a'course!"

Formless puzzle pieces danced in the barber's head. Uthlyn has always had rats, never has he heard of so much mention of them, and with Mister Shanke's discovery... Jobias looked at the tower again, and sighed. Olive would have to mind herself just a bit longer there, as his instinct of investigation just couldn't quite ignore the curious offer of the kid smiling too eagerly to him now. "Here." A coin he hoped he didn't spend on wasted time and Olive's endangerment. "Show me, and be quick about it!"

Well the boy wasn't lying about one thing; after lead down a few turns into some of the older streetways, an entourage of children armed with a various assortment of sticks, clubs, and random tools both sharp, blunt, and pointy had collected one by one. Jobias was beginning to wonder if he was about to be viciously mugged by the diminutive militia when he spotted something in tune with the lead  boy pointing.

"There!" the whelp whelped. And there, funneling down an alleyway was a practical stream of brown and black hair, rats, and more rats, had been moving together as if guided by fat, elusive cheeses. Some of the children gasped and took off, not having any of this, but their plucky leader gripped his crudely shaped switch, which had a single carpenter's nail driven through it, spoke bravely to the remaining boys and girls. "Right mates, FOR CONNL-"

"Not on your life, boy!" Jobias interrupted with a firm hand, pushing the boy back towards the others before stepping forward. "Keep behind me, and don't touch the things!"

Jobias stepped towards the alleyway, and into the mess of rodents. He thanked the thickness of his boots, and bent to the corner to see where the things were going to, when something rather strange happened. Very suddenly, one rat nearby stopped moving forward, and seemed rather confused, as almost a perfect circle about the thing suddenly moved independently in scurrying, random directions, leaving the one, who upon closer inspection appeared misshapen and rather wretched. Jobias unslung his folded crossbow from under his cloak and almost as soon as the lathes snapped into position, he fired a bolt straight into the fat center of the creature. Oddly enough, it did not make even a squeak. He stepped over quickly to it and snatched the dead thing, yanking his bolt from it. There was something definitely just wrong with this particular rat, but he had hardly a chance to think on it, as there, hiking up toppling crates, was Olive, and her traker, Dac, surrounded by a heaping mass of the rats.

"OLIVE!!" He called to her in shock and immediate concern. He turned to the small mob behind him, who seemed to have lost their enthusiasm for civil heroism. "Alert the guard! Go, NOW!" Jobias then looked to see how he could negotiate getting to the poor girl and her dog. "Olive! I'm coming!"

[Brisinger987]

"Skalos-friend, if you would kindly go back to your cousin." Xerordir commanded with a steel voice, colder than the tundra of the north.

"I am no demon's plaything. I am the equal and friend of a demon lord. A Prince. Oh so very rarely do people coexist in a body with a demon. Me and him achieved this. Although I have my own goals. He had his, we parted, but he still keeps contact, provides me with information. He is a good friend. I have many allies..." His voice now trailed off into a more mysterious tone, with a hint of threat. He was not playing, he was alluding.

"Tell me Dhalekar, have you ever met Senka, the Whisper? She is very enigmatic. And a very powerful ally. We are forming something more encompassing than the Collegiate of Nosferti, we are forming a Council of Shadows." Xerordir spoke with disinterest, as if he didn't care whether Dhalekar joined. Hopefully he would make it feel competitive enough for Dhalekar to want to join.

"We are the strongest of the strong, the deviants, those who have accepted powers too fearsome for mere peasants and commoners, and even the mightiest of mages. We are a league of dark magicians, necromancers and demon summoners. I am an embodiment of all three craft." Xerordir held out one hand, a black flame enveloping it.

"Dark magic..." The flame grew bigger, sucking in light.

"Necromancy..." He opened his other hand, and in a green flame stood a small illusion of a lich and skeleton.

"Demoncraft..." A third red flame appeared in the air in front of his chest, containing an image of Skalos.

He extinguished all the flames and crushed the illusions, making a little bit of smoke. When the smoke finally settled, he made his offer.

"Interested?" Xerordir took off his mask, and smirked at the Lich.

[Echtronis]

Dhalekar let out a vicious cackle, though secretly he was glad to be rid of the rather intimidating Skalos. "So you were not sent on the whims of devils, but that of this Whisper, Senka?" He pointed a ancient hand to Xerordir. "You did not know of me before coming here, you made that quite obvious already, demon host, and I am more convinced that you know nothing of just how 'encompassing' the Collegiate is..."

A rasping call to Smiles without words sent some sort of message to the ogre to cause it leaping down the open pit in the circular chamber. Dhalekar returned his eyeless gaze to Xerordir. "Still... you are obviously a being of power, and that is something always worth looking into. I would be a fool not to investigate avenues to strength in the future, my new empire will need allies, so... Call your Mistress; this Ssssenkaaa... I would speak with her, and we can then all see how your Council and I can benefit from eachother, yes?"

[kleineklementine]

Olive was perched, crouched on the highest of the wooden crates with nowhere left to go. Even Dac had retreated up a level. Though the rickety crates wouldn't support the bear of a Doug's weight any further. He was growling and snapping at the rats as they drew climbed up, trying at least to keep them for reaching highs girl.

As if things weren't bad enough already, the sound of the approaching children reached the pair. Oh no. If anyone found them, they'd see a mage surrounded by HUNDREDS OF RATS and find the awful thing in her pocket. Oh God, she'd be hanged. And what was worse, it was her fault. What had she been thinking, taking this creepy, obviously suspicious, obviously magical, cursed thing ?! Stupid, Olive, stupid. They'd find her, and hang her, and then word would spread all over Connlaoth of how Constance Carwick, the wicked daughter of Duke Carwick, had died an awful wicked witch, and then her mother would fall to ill humors and die of the scandal. She could see it all now.

The desperate idea of just throwing the weird rat thing (hoping all the real rats followed it) and then running as fast and as far as she could was just forming in Olive's mind when she heard Jobias and the children. A wave of relief welled up inside of her, and then was just as quickly replaced by doubt. He was probably just hunting her down to turn into the authorities!

But when he arrived on the scene, he seemed worried about her. Seemed like he was coming to save her. She sent him a look of relief and gratitude and opened her mouth to call for his help, but...

Guards! Why couldn't this man just be reliably bad or good? She'd justnthought he'd come to rescue her - though why should he? - and now he was calling for GUARDS. She couldn't keep it inside. "'Guards?!" she repeated, and wild fear shone in her eyes. "Oh God, they're going to kill me!"

Even though she had no right to, Olive felt betrayed. Guards were going to come. They were going to drag her away and throw her in a cell and then they were going to hang her or burn her or feed her to a bear, for all Olive knew. All because she wanted a hair cut! It wasn't like she even knew this man, this barber, but he had called her a fine young lady and had played with her hair and now he was going to feed her to the bear.

But even through her fear, Olive noticed what was happening. Around Jobias the rats were scattering. Oh, she'd been right about what 'investigator' meant apparently. But for now...  "Just, just keep walking towards me," she called to Jobias. "They're scattering, see? You don't... You don't need to call the guards..."  Her voice was shaky and she realized, dimly, that he had already sent the children for the guards. But maybe if he got here before them, if she threw the awful rat thing back at him, then maybe she'd have time to run before anyone got here.

Run where? Olive preferred to take her fences one at a time, thank you very much!

[Brisinger987]

Xerordir was worried. Xerordir had no idea how Senka would feel about being called up for this. It would be stupid for a start. Why couldn't this lich not just discuss with Xerordir?!

"I do not serve Senka, I am her ally, and neither me nor her have the patience to deal with this. You can discuss your terms with me when I help you, understood? A favour for a favour. You get help. I get an audience and true discussion over this when we have restarted your Collegiate. Or you can be straightforward and drop the Collegiate idea. Simple. The Council will perform the same function, but will encompass grander schemes. Schemes that reach into the heavens and hells that others dare naught but pray to." Xerordir was in no mood for silly games with the lich. Dhalekar could accept the given terms, or Skalos would come back.

[Echtronis]

Beneath the Ruined Temple of Alainoth

Dhalekar clacked his jaws in delight with a heavy, icy, unnecessary breath. He noted the change in tone in Xerordir's speech. It was still impatient, but different than before. Xerordir quickly had made an offer of aid or acceptance to this Shadow Council that Dhalekar knew nothing of despite its own claims to great things. Apparently the very idea of this Senka coming to join them was something terrible to his guest, who only just moments ago commanded the presence of a demon from another realm.

Interesting.

Dhalekar decided quickly in his head that joining this council now would might be a foolish thing before meeting this Senka. Would he be an "ally" of Xerordir as Xerordir has alluded to him being an "ally" to Senka? It reminded him too much of the internal pyramids of power from his time, and it tasted like poison to him. He would be just as foolish to turn away aid to his cause though, there was still so much to be done before he could take the outer city, who a prisoner has informed him to be known simply as "Uthlyn".

Before he replied, Dhalekar could see Smiles nearing the chamber from down the hallway, carefully carrying a large table with metal cups and pots, one steaming. The lich made an airless, silent whisper past Xerordir to the ogre, informing his minion that they would not be expecting guests after all. He then let his projected voice escape his jaws. "Very well, I shall discuss with you, Xerordir... These are complicated matters, but a trade in services is something that does stir pleasantly in me... I am ever busy to realize my dream to take Uthlyn, and there certainly are things that I am in need of. Aid my conquest, Xerordir, and your Council will find an ally in a new Uthlyn."

Dhalekar drifted down to the floor, and his foot bones scraped against the stone floor as he neared Xerordir, though of course keeping a very respectable distance. The lich had made smooth gestures with his hands, with a terrible screeching sound emanating from his form that trailed off into a croaking moan as between his open, skeletal hands appeared a myriad of flashing green images, spherical in appearance, seemingly views of random parts of the city; a blacksmith bellowing her forge, a guard picking his nose, oddly enough a terribly frightened girl with a large dog climbing some crates in an alley, a shining knight conversing with a robed figure, the images kepts appearing and changing faster and faster until they seemed to form together in a rather twitchy image of the entire city of Uthlyn, so small in the lich's claws. "I have seen so much, but hear little... I seek more information; who holds the city? Who commands the warriors that stand to protect it? I need to know my enemy before I can deliver my deathly prize to it."

The images futtered away into nothingness as Dhalekar made made a gesture to allude to height "The tower there is perfect for my design, but it will take time to complete what I have in mind. Once it is implemented I will have an army that will surpass any paltry force that can be raised from the scattered dead outside the walls. I may need protection for my endeavors at those final moments. I... was not concerned about my defenses here, but yet, here you are... The outside world must be persuaded not to enter this place."

He let out a cutting rasp. "I MUST have Uthlyn! Aid me, Xerordir, show me the power of your Council, and I shall be in the debt of it, and you will have a powerful nexus to call upon. Those are 'my terms', as you say."

He gave a wave to dismiss Xerordir, having given his terms. There was nothing more Dhalekar had to say.

Except... "Ah... and if those things are but simple toyings to you, infernal one, I will be in need of a Queen, a companion to rule beside me from the tower, yes..." He cackled once again. "I would be most grateful if you were have a potential bride presented to me..."

___________________________________________________________________________

The back alleys of Uthlyn

"Bah!" One of the many rats milling about Jobias' legs as he made slow progress through the hairy stream had run up and bit through a pantleg. The aggressive rodent was quickly removed and thrown spitefully against the wall of the alley with a pained 'Skreek!' from it's crushed form. "Oh! So you don't think a hoard of rats chasing good townsfolk to higher ground isn't a concern of the local authorities?! Another sorely missed subject in Sorcery School!" He spat out angrily, his eyes searching the mass as he kicked a few out of his way.

Olive was indeed spot on with her suspicions, but what concerned Jobias was the extent of his abilities as a Mordecai. Magic just didn't shut off around his presence, it kept it from manifesting, which meant to him that magic was not just present, it was actively working. As he advanced, Jobias found another rat that looked a bit off compared to the rest standing rather stupidly as rats nearby it scattered just like the last one, and after loading another bolt into his crossbow, released the missile to find home in it's fat form. There were still more massing, but he was almost close enough to do something about the girl's situation, Jobias wasn't quite sure what to do with the tracker. At least he could chance a few words until he can get close enough to attempt to take control of the situation.

"Well Olive!" He called out over the din of chirping rodents, opening his arms wide as if this were all some kind of sick jest. "I want to like you, Angsar knows why, I really do, but you seem to be making it rather difficult for me! You see, I had thought I was showing a sweet girl a trinket to sate her admirable curiosity," He paused just a moment to thrash a few rodents that had given him a bit too much attention. "Maybe even give her a good haircut!" Another bloater was spotted, and ended with a 'twang!' of his crossbow. "But then here we are! I'm not sure if you're a sorceress, or just a thief, or both, but either way I can understand your hesitance of accepting the help of the Guard! I am an understand man, Olive!"

Stomp! Stomp!

"The way I see it, you got very few options, and very few moments to make up your mind on them! You can either evade my inqueries with your DAFT defiance until the authorities arrive with their dependable understanding to things like this, or you can use that clever head of yours, and throw me the god damn wires, and let me take you out of here where you can explain to me personally why you stole them in the first place!" Preferring the latter himself, Jobias opted not to collect his strange kills, damning himself for being involved in this in the first place (and leaving evidence behind to boot), in order to gain faster ground to where he was closer to the rats that were just piling up along the crates like a fast-growing infection. He just wasn't quite close enough to stop whatever was originating this magic that was calling them all.

'What are you doing, Jobias?' With faith, he slung his crossbow and reached out his hands to Olive.

[kleineklementine]

"YOU wan to like ME?" she spat back at him. "You're trying to get me killed, or worse! You don't know the half of what will happen if the guards get here. All because your stupid, rude butcher and your stupid shop and pushing me around and making inappropriate suggestions and then being nice again and then being scary and now you're trying to get the guards here to haul me away and then throw me in the river and feed me to fish! Supposing they don't keep me for awhile first! Fill in how that story turns out yourself!"

Somewhere in her head, Olive was aware that she was being very unreasonable and very unfair or, in short, that she was being a brat. But in all the other parts of her head she was very, very scared. And the thinly veiled threats of this Mordecai or, maybe if he wasn't lying, ex-Mordecai for some reason weren't making her feel better. And of course it didn't help that, at the end of the day, she had no one to blame but herself. It only made her angrier at Jobias.

"Pah! Yes, please!" She took the wire contraption out of her pocket and threw it as absolutely hard as she could at Jobias. She certainly didn't want it anymore! And then, 'like magic,' once it was i the Mordecai's reach, the rats looked confused, just waking up, and spent a good amount of time running into each other as they attempted to scurry back to the shadows.

Olive watched the rats bump around and looked down at Jobias, unsure. He was right, there definitely wasn't a lot of time. And it was true that, for whatever reason, she sort of liked him. Sort of. She was also sort of afraid of him. But she decided the possible threat of Jobias was a better bet than the definite threat of the Guards. Swallowing, she grabbed his hand and jumped to the ground, landing half in his arms. "Please," she said urgently now, looking up at him with huge, scared eyes. Her tone was much more subdued, which wasn't exactly an apology, but it would have to do for now. She knew better than to try to run away. He could easily cuff her and hand her over to the guards himself. "Can we get out of here now?!"

[Brisinger987]

Xerordir liked the idea of kidnapping, it was clean, efficient and actually got you somewhere. Especially if your threat was a painful, excruciating, defiling death. It was difficult to pull off for some species though.

"Of course I can. I can find you several potentials, and the throwaways, I will resurrect as slaves to be shared. I will get an odd number, so the slaves can be split equally. After my excursion with Kirnardaz, I do not desire women, I desire the company of the dead. I will find you a bride. And I may find myself some stepping stones." Xerordir spoke with a smile, but internally he was getting annoyed. But he had agreed.

"Kirnardaz, I am beginning to dislike this Lich. If needs be, I will summon you to banish him to your realm. Your eternal stress release." The thought was projected through the minute magic that worked the barriers, into the mind of Kirnardaz, who replied in kind.

"Gladly. I need a new stress release." Kirnardaz snarled through the realms.

[Echtronis]

Beneath the Ruined Temple of Alainoth

Dhalekar had pondered on Xerordir's words, and nodded through them slowly as he spoke favorably of the terms, well, except perhaps that one bit about splitting an odd number of slaves. Perhaps it was simply customary in this time to split one part in half as a sort of symbolizing finality of an exchange from one overlord to another. In any case Dhalekar was pleasantly surprised that he was willing to except all of the lich's requests. "Very good, I shall see that your council is repaid in kind over fold, Xerordiiirrrr..." His voice trailed off, as his mind raced for possible scenarios at hand. He could think of none that would need the demonologist here at this time.

"I have much work to do yet, Xerordir, if there is nothing else... Shall I call for an escort back out of the labyrinth? The Fae-Bitch that housed the temple above was an irritating creature..." Dhalekar gestured a hand back to the door from whence Xerordir came.

Indeed, the Lich did have much to do. He turned his head ever so slightly to catch the edge of the great machine behind him. It wouldn't be long from now before his captives will begin to awake, and he needed to be prepared for collecting at that time.

_________________________________________________________________________

The back alleys of Uthlyn

As Olive spat out her protests, Jobias let go of a bit of pressure in his throat in the form of an inaudible grumble. Though he found this defiant spirit pleasing to listen to back in his shop when things were delightfully not ridden with magically entranced vermin, it was not as amusing when he knew that the guard, though he has known them not to be entirely reliable, especially in the quiet city of Uthlyn so near the Capital, could be arrive at any moment.  He silently cursed his mindless calling for them in the first place. Only a scrap of years ago, it wouldn't of mattered, magic user or not, he could have had them escort Olive to her home in a cushioned palanquin and never bother her again,  but now...

'What would you have done anyway?' the thought crawled through his mind as his hands reached out waiting to receive the wires in question. Mordecai or not, this wasn't the sort of thing he finds himself tolerating. Though feeding mages to fish was not something he has ever heard practiced, Jobias didn't think he would normally bat an eye if she were, she must of been tied to this thing somehow, otherwise why? Why in the infernal hellscape would she do something so painfully foolish?

Jobias, momentarily lost in his questions, was not expecting for the wretched metal skeleton thrown with such force, and stumbled the slightest bit as he did what he could to catch the damn thing properly, cutting his palm on them in the process. Oh, that's it! What a wretched brat, this girl! Jobias pocketed the awful thing and reached for her again. He almost didn't notice the quick disinterest of the rats as his head boiled with ire. Oh and reckon she's quick to accept his help now, is she? How could she possibly think that he wouldn't throw her to the guard now? Why in Angsar's Kingdom would he ever even imagine assisting this girl, this thief of black magic, this-

"Oh." was suddenly all that Jobias could think when he caught her. The alleyway suddenly seemed very quiet to him. The rats did seem to be gone, at least, Jobias imagined. Those eyes.

He almost didn't hear her entreating to leave, though the distant clamoring of men in the distance had snapped him from this spell. In complete irrational reasoning he suspected more sorcery, but he knew that was impossible, unless she was some sort of extra-dimensional being. By Angsar, wouldn't that just be his luck. Jobias said nothing, he only took her hand, and led her down the alley the opposite direction of the approaching guard. Instinctively he made the general Mordecai gesture to trained trackers to have the dog follow, he didn't check to see if the dog understood, he just had to get Olive out of here. He wasn't positive where he should take her, if anyone had seen her go into the alley, and noticed the rats that followed. The guards did seem to come quickly, maybe they were called before he sent the urchins. All he could think was to take her back to the safety of his shop and home, and simply headed in that direction, with her.

There was no sorcery here, no. Jobias was just an old fool.

[Brisinger987]

"Of course Dhalekar. Oh, and that demon I summoned earlier, Skalos?" Xerordir felt like pointing out a truly strange fact about the demons he knew on a name basis.

"The demon that I was a vessel for was stronger. And more insane too." With that he followed the way out, summoning a minor imp to guide him out.

Xerordir decided he would be better setting up shop in the city. He could use portals to get there quickly now that he knew the place.

[kleineklementine]

Neither Olive nor her dog needed to be told twice – or once, for that matter! –  to get moving. The girl ran hard on Jobias's heals, Dac following heavily behind. She threw a furtive glance over her shoulder, an icy panic in her stomach as she heard the guards approaching, but before she could see them they turned a corner and the scene they were running from – the rats, the crates, the approaching guards – disappeared.

And where was she going now? Who knew if this man were really safer. Maybe he'd been kicked out of the Mordecai because he'd been too cruel, not love-the-sinner enough. Maybe he'd only saved her so he could drag her into the basement of his barber shop and cut her up to bits. Olive was used to getting herself into trouble, but this was going a bit further than she was accustomed to... But, for some reason, she equal parts trusted and feared the strange barber. But she would worry about that latter, for now she wanted to put more distance between herself and those guards!

Ding dong ding dong! Dong ding ding done!

The sound of the church bells made their way through the fearful thoughts clouding Olive's head. Of course! Olive ground to a halt as they passed the church ringing out for the imminent mass. Well, rather, she tried to grind to a halt, but due to Jobias's greater size and momentum, it came out more skip-hop-skip-stop.

"Come on!" she urged, pulling Jobias to the church. This, to Olive, seemed like the perfect place to be right now: Both to hide from the guards, and for each of them to calm down a little.

"Go home, Dac," she instructed the dog, who gave one whine before trundling off.

Jobias might have been surprised by the immediate change in Olive's demeanor once she entered the church. She moved with the slow and serious piousness of someone who went to mass at least once a day. All outward signs of the mouthy, defiant girl from the barber shop or from the alley disappeared. Olive's movements were like muscle memory. And in a way they were. She gave Jobias only one, meaningful look before sliding into a pew and kneeling as the mass began.

[Echtronis]

Indeed he was surprised, on a number of things. Firstly, Jobias was surprised at his sudden loss of composure; though he was familiar with chasing, his hasty decision to become made accomplice to whatever it was Olive was involved with had put him in unfamiliar territory. Where was he going, his home? That little urchin's voice played in his head, followed by a terrible and somber feeling.

'Yer the barber, aint'cha?'

Jobias dwelled on the scenarios of repercussions that could very likely occur, so much that he hardly realized that Olive redirected them to the church until his focus was snapped back by her quick transformation. Oh he knew that walk well, it was the first refreshing sign of something normal since this blasted day started. Quite surprising, to see it from the same girl he still wasn't sure to be some sorcering con artist, but there was such a serenity in her now; could that indeed be rehearsed, she did bring them here, was this another step in her series of back up plans?

There were those eyes again, the look she gave Jobias put him to take in his ornate surroundings. Midday Mass, yes, this would be a good place to be, in any case. Jobias found himself joining Olive's side at the pew, and gave himself to the ceremony beginning. He listened to the opening hymn, as the high sun beamed down into the great, circular stained glass window set in the ceiling of the church, so that the statue of Angsar below would be illuminated.

Midday, the time when the light gave Angsar the power to slay the wizard. Though it is not to be taken as to put the mage to the sword, no, rather it is taught that the height of day's light is when one can find the strength to overcome, to face even impossible challenges. Angsar did not teach to hate the mage, Angsar taught the people that the simplest man can define their destiny, no matter what forces assail him. Jobias turned his head slightly to look upon Olive. Thoughts of suspicion and conviction and guardedness just seemed so heavy to bear right now, right now, he just saw this simple Connlaothian, here for mass. That felt good enough right now. He whispered something to her, but it came out inaudible. Jobias turned his head towards the priest before the statue, and closed his eyes, allowing himself to lose himself to respite into the sermon. He was almost surprised he could.