A Break from Deception (open)

[Nexialist]

Peace, and quiet... quiet, and peace... such rarities, such gemstones to be coveted, after being deprived of them for so long.

After glancing around, and realizing, or perhaps believing no one was in the library, Sage let out a sigh of relief. He'd been disguised as the poor merchant he recently mentally incapacitated by sharing eldritch truths as part of a good "deal" of his, but truthfully, keeping himself concentrated on the illusion spell to do so made it hard to read, which was quite frustrating. Just for now, even if for a brief time, he wished to relax and read further on material lore so that he wouldn't seem like an elephant in the room during negotiations if he didn't know what he was talking about. Just for now, he could perhaps drop the facade and have a respite.

Occasionally, by which I mean often, he would grumble to himself the gibberish language that is his natural, fiendish tongue. He wasn't speaking curses or chanting spells or anything this time around; just making remarks about how dirty the building was in an infernal language. Of course, this never happened normally; him making any sounds around a place like this in a native tongue meant he wasn't paying attention. He was actually invested in this bizarre history. Bizarre by his standards, anyway; a simple deed of good was utterly alien and mentally disorienting to him, so this was akin to forbidden knowledge through his eyes.

And, likewise, this all made him forget how much time had flown by. A pile of books as tall as someone's forearm now sat besides the undisguised yugoloth sitting in the supposedly empty library. Normally his kind would never let their guard down like this, but this was just FASCINATING. He'd have to speak to an archiver or historian later, but for now...

Spoiler

tl;dr:

[close]

"Sage", as he calls himself, sits alone at a table in a dusty old library near the outskirts of Reajh, undisguised and hoping to not be seen in such a state as his ordinary, fiendish one. Such would be quite alarming to whichever poor commoner would see it, but he wouldn't be paying enough attention to realize it if someone had come in.

A small break from the infernal tongue lets a grumble of his slip in the common language of the overworld.
"...Damned dust , gonna make each and every one of these books look like a saw mill... filthy thing, whatever keeps this place..."

[Magyar]

Hvitraak leafed through the pages of a dusty old tome, one chronicling the destruction of a primeval kingdom of man by the actions of a great beast lost to the ages.

Odd, how they label me lost, as if I'd simply vanished afterward, never to be seen again. He frowned to himself, thinking back to that time. His memory was not the best when it came to specific details, but after demolishing his first keep, it had etched the moment into his mind forever.

Black smoke billowed into the clouds high above, the heat of liquid flame baking the earth into char and dust. Stone, bone, flesh, and mud, all indistinguishable from one another as the scent of flame choked the air, and desperate, pleading screams isolated on the razed plain where once a town had lay. He loved it, the feeling of power, the utter helplessness of the bipeds. His little playthings...

Hvit snapped back into reality, prompted by the whisperings of a foul tongue, one he had not heard in some time. At least not in public. Silently laying down his open book, he padded towards the sound, and sniffed at the air. A scent, reminiscent of tall grasses, dogs, and... Demons. Hvit licked his teeth, something that he did when he was excited. His black tongue darted out between his lips, the aroma of his prey pungent to his now concentrated senses.

Hugging the corner of a bookcase, he centred his eyes on where his nose told him the Demon would be, and looked down. The second floor balconied down over the first, and sitting at a table smack centre in the middle of the library, was a creamy brown fox man with a nose ring. He seemed enthralled by whatever the pages below him had written in their scrawled hand, not even glancing upward at the dragon. Even in his much smaller humanoid form, Hvit was hard to miss, and so this not only surprised him, but disappointed him. He'd expected some game from the little fox-man.

Perhaps he could yet still play with the Yugoloth. Stepping backward into the shadows, he let his true draconic voice ring through the high ceilinged library. It caught on the building's curves and reverberated through her hallways, rattling the window panes within several metres. Coming from all places yet traceable to none, it spoke, "Hail, little fox. Is it wise to show thineself in thee's truest shape, especially in this infernal city of all places?"

[Nexialist]

And, with that alone, the once distracted yugoloth let out an inhuman sound, akin to no earthly animal. As a natural reaction, this also caused him to briefly shift through several different forms, before ending on the very human he'd eliminated not long ago, before coming to the archives.

He rapidly turned his gaze every which way, before a small vocal outburst escaped him from the sudden burst of energy he'd received.

"Call me not by that bastardization of my form! How long have you been here?!"

Though he really was as blindly furious as it may seem, the rather aggressive comment sounded half-hearted, mostly because his panic stage was settling down as he said it. He closed the book he was currently working through, silently remembering the page number, before glancing around to try and find the source of the booming voice. Certainly, it was no commoner, but that's about all that was clear. Normally, he'd be quite quick when it came to even simple observations such as this, but being caught off guard was tough to rebound from.

"Xe'dd krulq z'muw smady dukrirh vasl al f'wuo xe mijy za...", the arcanaloth mumbled to no one in particular. Another remark in that otherworldly tongue; this one was something about the library itself, or some kind of empty threat, or perhaps both... but, in any case, it was just a form of intimidation. He wasn't really wishing for a fight, but he would have loved to scare off any unwanted guests if possible, even if it was futile.

After all this is done, however, and Sage's mind is entirely still again for the time being, he lets himself lose concentration on his illusory spell once more as he stands, revealing his true nature to whichever mysterious being saw it. His posture had suddenly worsened, as well, his spine now bent forward and his arms slightly held out with claws extended in a more 'savage' position as he readied himself for what may or may not come.

[Magyar]

Hvit chuckled, the sound rippling through the air like a serpent through water.

"You are amusing to me, little Yugoloth." Hvit snaked around the upper floor, drawing a finger across the bookshelves as he crept beside them. he little more than whispered, "How long have I been here? How long hast thee been here, Foxling? And why, pray tell, would thee study human magic in the one place where it is hated most?"

Now in a low crouch, Hvit slowly circled the panicked yugoloth, watching curiously at his aggressive posture. He was no fighter. At best he was a battle caster but even then, he did not seem the type. An illusionist perhaps, or a spy. Yes, that was more likely. Mayhap even an assassin. He'd heard of demons using their natural talents for destruction in return for payment of various kinds, and this individual might just fit that bill.

Now directly behind his quarry, albeit twenty feet above him, Hvit swung his legs over the railing, and perched upon it. Now much too close for stealth, or even evasion, Hvit let himself be known, "Enlighten me, would you?"

[Nexialist]

Sage kept his posture, albeit shifting to stand slightly taller.

"I've been here the entire day. I'm trying to figure out what a mortal might have in the arcane arts that I don't." His voice still sounded passively hostile, not because he wished to fight, but now because of his disgruntled state in letting his studies be so blatantly interrupted. "I can't imagine that you have much of a suggestion regarding where else I'd go to study."

The draconic being was certainly correct about the arcanaloth being a battle mage, and this most likely made it easy to discern that his readied position was either a bluff or a position of self-defense. If anything, when attacked, he'd either take off running, start slinging spells, or both in any order.

His eyes turned as far to the left as they could and his head slightly turned in the same direction so that he could see what thing may have been behind him, bringing the wyrm into his peripheral vision.

"And don't call me Foxling."

[Magyar]

Dropping down from his seat on the railing, Hvit landed inches behind the Arcanaloth, and straightened to his full eight feet in height, towering over him.

"You do not seem to be in the position to tell me what I can and cannot call you," Hvittraak replied, low and menacing, watching the Demon intently, "Foxling. And if you want mortal magics, again, this city would not be the best place to find them. Do you know nothing of the goings on of man?" He circled around Sage, and placed a hand on the book he was reading, tracing the lines with his finger. Smiling, he spoke again, "If you want real power, or rather, rare power, at least here, you want the black market. This library has all but been purged of human magics, and anything related to it." Rounding back on Sage, he looked down at the jackal man.

"Perhaps you wish to accompany me to the market, little Yugoloth?" He said condescendingly, but with a hint of humour, "Mayhap we can even get you a proper alchemy set whilst we browse the witching shops."

[Nexialist]

"Did you not hear me when I said I was only trying to figure out what they had? These are history books, you fool."

Of course, this statement meant nothing. Any arcanaloth would join anyone if it got them some new information in the end that wasn't useless. "If you're trying to get me to follow you into some slums just so you don't have to be alone during some strange, underground deal of yours, I'm not coming. I won't stoop to such a level as going into an alleyway for my simple pursuit of knowledge." He pushed up his small glasses in an aloof manner even though his words formed, again, a completely empty statement. He's done worse, typically involving the death or incapacitation of a commoner. It's just how his kind are.

At this point, the yugoloth now stands straight up, still ready, but choosing to no longer show it in his stance.

[Magyar]

Hvit laughed, a deep and throaty laugh, but still somehow reminiscent of the slithering of scales on stone. He rather enjoyed the sass of this one.

"If I'd required a bodyguard, I don't think a five and a half foot jackal would be my first choice. And besides, where we're going, we needn't any guards. Magic users and non humans are embraced with open arms, as long as you can prove you do not work for the Connloathians." Hvit wrinkled his nose at the name, but continued anyway, "And it isn't a slum. More like... A rabbit's warren. To sell contraband in the capital city of the 'We hate Magic' duchy is a tricky profession, but those who do it, get it done well." Hvit picked up the stack of books and sauntered lazily towards the exit of the library, only pausing to turn back to the Arcanaloth. "Well, aren't you coming?" He asked expectantly, waving a hand at the heavy library doors.

[Nexialist]

A suppressed groan escaped from Sage as he realized that this was probably a good offer, as much as he wished it wasn't.

"Fine. But the moment wherever we go puts me in any sort of danger, I'm booking it." He turned around fully, pupils shrinking a little at the size of the creature he was trying to intimidate, before nonchalantly walking toward the exit and re-disguising himself once he realized again that he was able to re-focus on something other than words on paper. "Is this something you do normally? Just going into empty buildings and pestering the ones inside?"

[Magyar]

"Empty? You should observe more." Hvit walked out behind the now disguised Yugoloth, "Danger is a constant in this place, little one. Do not worry, I will protect you Foxling."

Now stepping into the street, Hvit used his height and size to his advantage, cutting a path in the churning of the populace. If they were to get out far enough to find The Warren within the day, they had to fly, and that required quite a bit of space. And probably some distance from he city walls.

In between elbowing aside commoners and keeping an eye out for Mordecai, Hvittraak asked, "So what do they call you, little Yugoloth? I am Hvittraak, but if that is too much of a mouthful, you may call me Hvit. And as much as I like calling you Foxling I feel as though you shall tire of it much faster than I."

[Nexialist]

"You dare to imply I haven't tired of it already. I go by Sage and only Sage. Call me nothing else, please."

He looked up at the head of the creature he was following. If he had tried to fight this thing, he would've been doomed for as long as he was still surprised. That's a bit of a scary thought, especially if it might have some sort of magic that could contest his own.

"...Hvit, you say. Is that some silly nickname of yours or your real name?" He pondered this only because Sage himself had a pseudonym that he went by; it could very well be the same situation for another creature, as far as he knew.

[Magyar]

"It is the truest name I have gone by for quite some time. The Adellans of old christened me so. The full name given is Hvittraak Vængi'Kalteinn, and it alludes roughly to 'Cold White Drifter' or some such observation. Since then it is what I've been known as to them, and now to you." Nearing the gates, Hvit noticed a Mordecai, white tabard pristine and bastard sword at the ready.

"We'll have to go a different route. That warrior will cancel out your magics, no matter how powerful. And once they know you can do magic they will try their best to capture you and send you north." He grimaced, thinking over his options. "We can either go over the wall or I can risk shifting in the city. If we go over the wall, and they catch us, we'll have to default to plan b anyway, but if we succeed, less of these peasants have to die. If we use plan b, the surrounding houses will be crushed, and the local authorities will be looking for a gigantic white dragon and a scrawny jackal man."

Hvit stopped talking long enough to duck into an alley off to his right. He snatched Sage off the street and rather roughly dropped him on his feet. "They're watching in this direction. I thought I saw one start towards us. Damn my appearance... Even in this fragile form I draw attention. Alright Sage, we do this now or never."

[Nexialist]

"I'm not typically one to repeat myself, but the moment I have to put myself in any more danger than usual, consider me gone." He whispered rather loudly, not enough to attract unwanted attention but enough to get the point across more than necessary. Though, he came to realize the imminent danger of sticking around for much longer. This was enough to provoke him to start flipping through his spellbook. "Mm... no, no... Agh, to hell with it all. We'll be headed over the wall, I'm not about to catch myself fighting someone in the middle of a place like this."

Fortunately, his demonic nature did allow him a few powers that weren't necessarily a type of magic, but just something that ran in his blood. The power he'd be needing right now from this convenient handful of abilities would be teleportation; up to around fifty feet away, in an instant. It had never come in use until now. "You'd best find yourself some way to not be executed that preferably wouldn't break too many houses. Think fast."

With that statement finished, Sage held his hand up slightly before letting his fingers twitch and jitter in an odd manner. A strange texture started forming near his palms, akin to a heat wave, and this texture began to spread to his entire body. Before long, his form was but a wavering mist and an identical mist began to form on the opposite alley, at the very back of it. Just like that, he had been hidden in the blanketing shadows of the other alleyway.

[Magyar]

As soon as the Arcanaloth had teleported deeper into the alley, Hvit checked around the corner again, and saw the Mordecai and two gate guardsmen pushing their way towards the alley. He ducked back inside, and extended his wings out from under his cloak. They were long, pale, and leathery, and with a few powerful flaps had sent him up the side of the building and onto the roofs around them.

Tucking his wings back inside their dragonleather sheath, he crouched low against the shale, more or less scuttling his way towards Sage. With any luck, the Mordecai would believe he had only seen something, or was a tad too drunk for the shift.

[Nexialist]

Sage's next blink of a movement was onto the rooftops as well; although, his was a bit less noticeable. He simply used the same ability of his; fading into nothing, and reappearing somewhere else. He seemed a bit off-balance at first when he did this, but he was able to recover quickly enough to not fall.

Now looking from rooftop to rooftop over the street in between the two hiders' buildings, he shot Hvit an expectant look before turning his stare to the wall not far ahead.

[Magyar]

"How much do you weigh?" Hvit whispered to his much smaller companion as he kept a watchful eye on the Mordecai now investigating the alley. "I might be able to fly you over the wall if we get close enough." 

As he spoke his wings rustled in anticipation under his cloak.

[Nexialist]

"Just over a hundred. If you drop me, you and everyone you know will suffer for it." He sure was full of bluffs. He knew he could avoid the falling damage, but he really wasn't in the mood to be endangered by a dragon in disguise, especially one he didn't know fully.

[Magyar]

The Dragon smiled, and pointed past three more roofs towards the wall.
"Shall we split up and meet by that chimney over there, the large brick one?" Hvit quickly scanned the street below. He added, "Alternatively, if you could keep up an illusory spell on the both of us, now that the Mordecai is in the alley, we can slip through the gates. It all depends on how long he searches for us."

Hvit slipped a hand into his cloak, and pulled a small glass vial filled with black viscous liquid.
"This is Dragonmana. If need be, use it." Hvit finished as he pressed the vial into Sage's hand.

[Nexialist]

"I don't trust this. You know I don't trust this." Yech. Could very well be hot tar for what he knew about this oddball. "I'd rather move over the gates, by the way. Trying any charismatic approach now wouldn't end as well as one would think."

He stared down at the Mordecai. Had he used an illusion spell, there's always a chance of failure with those fellows.

[Magyar]

Nodding, Hvit turned and slid down the opposite side of the tiled roof. On his way down, a slate piece came loose, and cracked several times on the way down the thirty foot drop. Without stopping to learn if the Mordecai had noticed the noise, Hvit leapt from the edge of the roof, and unfurled his wings, using them as a sort of second jump, and cleared the next roof without touching a single slate.

He paused only slightly to look back on Sage, but then resumed his sprint towards the brick chimney. Flapping once, he gained several feet and began a dive towards the top of the chimney, extending an arm and grasping the stone as he landed. Swinging himself around on the circular stone, he perched neatly atop it. The smoke from within it was stark against his bleach white skin and wings, but camouflaged him well when he drew his black cloak around him like a leather shadow. Now he simply watched and listened, ready to fly at the first shout of alarm.