A stark Announcement (Sequal to Stormy Interloper, open)

[Anonymous]

Ezel Berbel was a simple, undemanding sort of fellow.

He was the kind of man who gave much and asked for little. Let the world be changed, change, be free and grow. He'd nurture, encourage and aid it in this. All he asked in return, was one teeny, tiny thing.

World Domination.

A lofty goal. But, a goal that he was determined to complete. And now, after many years, the time to begin was now. Ezel stepped forward from the shadows of an archway, moving to the main square.

Reajh was in bad shape. Shango had done a lot more damage then Ezel had ever imagined he would. Buildings were destroyed, streets were torne up, anger and confusion were in the hearts, minds, and faces of all the people, desperately trying to rebuild.

When he'd asked Shango to come investigate Reajh in the thunder elemental's quest for power, he knew he'd cause some property damage, but he didn't expect a great deal of the city to be leveled.

What had happened to Shango is a mystery as well. He went forward and did battle with a minotaur, and nobody had seen either since. There was a hope, a slim hope, that both were dead, but Ezel doubted it. Indeed, he'd have to deal with Shango again, he knew it. That,however, could wait.

He had wars to start.

He stood atop a large rocky slab of granite, clearing his throat and raising his voice so that the whole square, milling with civiliians and soldiers alike.

"Attention, people of Connoloath! Attention, citizens of Reajh! I have seen your faces! I have seen your suffering! This destruction was swift, pointless and cruel. Who is responsible, for sending this mad wizard into our midst, and attempting to fulfill the prophecies that we all feared magic would fulfill? Who could have been responsible? While, I do not know this...I do know another crime."

He paused, letting them all absorb the information, the anger and fear growing in their faces.

"On the eve of that terrible destruction, the wealthiest noble in Connolaoth was murdered, right in his own home, along with his entire family! The murderer is still at large, and his face and identity have not been seen...however, in his haste to escape, he dropped the very weapon that killed your fine noblemen, your comrades, who have striven, as I have, to make life better for all of you. The others don't want me to reveal this, but I believe it is your right to know the truth. The nobleman was murdered...with THIS!"

He held up a dagger, a small, hand-sized dagger that gleamed in the sunlight. It would have been unremarkable, honestly, if not for one thing: the emblem of the Kingdom of Serendipity.

"This means nothing, my friends, but it means everything. It is our only evidence, and I pray that none of you think that the kingdom of Serendepity is at all"-

"Those bastards! They destroyed our city!"

Hecklers from the crowd began yelling in anger.

"They sent that wizard, they killed our nobles!"

"Those magic-loving swine! Those sons of whores!"

"We'll kill them all! They deserve death!"

Ezel gasped, waving his arms placatingly.

"My friends, please, wait, do not act harshly! Even if it is true, our military is in shambles, and control is limited. We have no way of fighting a war, we have no army or leader right now!"

More hecklers.

"We'll be the army! We'll march into Serendepity before they know we were there and burn the whole kingdom to the ground!"

"We don't need a leader!'

"Yes! We lead ourselves!"

"No, let Ezel lead us! Let Ezel Belber, who loves us so much he came to tell us the truth, lead us to victory!"

Ezel stepped back, looking worridly over the crowd.

"Me? Oh no...dear friends, you do not mean..."

"Yes! Ezel should lead us!"

A chant had started up.

"Ezel! Ezel! Ezel Belber! Ezel! Ezel! Ezel Belber! Ezel! Ezel! Ezel Belber!"

Ezel waves his arms for silence, stepping forward, his eyes closed solemly. He looked up at the sky, letting out a deep breath and spreading his arms to the side.

"If this be your decision, then I accept."

The crowd erupted into cheers and moved on with the speed of ants, the idea of war and revenge fueling their works as they chipped stone and lifted up broken walls, pulling old weapons and metal from the wreckage and sending them to local blacksmiths, who had become miniture foundries, making enough weapons for even man, young and old, to proudly bear into what the people believed to be a holy war.

Ezel leaned against a nearby pillar, unable to resist letting out a giddy little giggle. Now he was getting somewhere. The other nobles did not dare try to stop him, he had an army right at their doorsteps, and as far as anyone cared, he was right. The others had discovered the dagger with the murdered man.

They just didn't know it was Serendepity that killed that family.

It was Ezel Belber.

Now, he'd let them stew for a few days. Let us see who decided to join or stop this madness. Let us see...

[Anonymous]

(This is where you post to express interest in the new war...)

[Anonymous]

Eeep. Kieran stayed at the edge of the crowd, eyes darting nervously from side to side. He kept his face lowered; from the way everyone was behaving, no one was going to believe that he was an innocent citizen simply caught up in the weather-mess.

He was torn between feeling angry and happy that a noble was found dead. Pesky nobles. They were worse than rats. But if the magic-folks had the power to kill the rich and powerful  in their very own home...then what could they do to him.

The thought of a war was folly. He'd seen firsthand what magic could do, and he didn't like it. Much of the city had been leveled. The thunder-man had been pretty destructive. And that had only been one person. This crazy Ezel-man wanted them to make war on a host of mages. Insanity.

Yes, insanity. One of his voices agreed. The world is full of warmongers like the person next to you.

Kieran gulped, edging away from the fervently chanting blacksmith. They were chanting the insane one's name like a mantra, as though it could protect them from the arcane. Deciding that the safest thing to do would be to follow the groups lead, he mumbled dully, "Ezel, Ezel, Ezel."

Reajh just wasn't safe anymore, he realized. And all because of one man's insanity.

[Anonymous]

"Connlaothians! Brothers! Sisters!" A voice barked from the behind the mob, effortlessly loud and used to command. The voice was a woman's, a ranking member of the military by the brass ensignia on her collar. Her chestnut hair was bound in a tight french braid and her brassy green eyes were crossed. "This lack of faith in those that have sworn their lives to your is appalling!"

Sergeant Fahmida could see why the crowd would be so quick to ally themselves to someone that provided an immediate solution for a problem. It had been something of a rough year, first the young heir was kidnapped, then the first terror incident and after that the jailbreaks, more recent and effortless than usual. Only... she had some idea of what was behind it. She'd seen the thread that bound them, while the public had only seen the chaos and the terror. Once they too had seen the thread, the system of chaos and terror would dissolve. Fahmida could still sympathize with the people, a little, she was a woman of action. Even though she knew more than she supposed the common citizen knew, she was still antsy.

Though, even with this easy answer, she wasn't about to start following this unknown person into war. When she'd been on her knees, ignored by all, it was the government they were currently bashing that lent a hand to help her up. Rash or not, she was loyal - apparently, unlike several other guardsmen she saw amongst the crowd. As the mob became frantic, she sent a message with a trusted guardsmen back to the castle, put the rest of her patrol into formation, marched toward the crowd and began her own speech.

Spotting an area that wasn't quite as thickly packed with people she ordered her patrol to stay behind the crowd and began to work her way through the crowd, to the unknown man at its center. This Ezel Berbel. She doubted the crowd even heard her talking earlier, they were so wrapped up in sheer idolation over this Berbel. A few even seemed to have taken his words seriously, and came at her while she wove her way through. She didn't want to add any more fuel to this stranger's fire by attacking innocent citizens, but she had to defend herself. It was her right as a human being to defend herself. So she fought shove with elbow and began to run, placing her hands on the dragoon pistols at her hips.

When at last she got through the crowd, she tossed her head up defiantly, wisps of hair forming a sort of halo around her scowling face. She wanted to turn it towards the crowd, to shower them with her dissaproval. She didn't and couldn't, it was another risk she didn't feel like taking. There were too many of them, she'd never be able to fight all of them at once. So she cleaned the scowl from her face, leaving her usual expression (which, if her patrol's opinion were to be gathered, wasn't much different than the scowl) and faced Berbel.

"Our Lady Maverikko," she began, punching the pronoun. "Extends an invitation for you, Ezel Berbel, to meet her at the palace. Matron Maverikko and her war council would be very interested to know what you know."

Her voice didn't waiver and she stood steady as a rock, but a sour taste was building up in the back of her throat. There was no telling how this man would take that information. Though, she was certain that being here, taking this risk would pay off in the end. Connlaoth would know whether she held an enemy of an ally.

[Anonymous]

Ezel turned an amused eye to the girl who'd spoken, as if she'd said something mildly amusing.

"The Matron demands my prescence? But, of course, I'd be delighted to accept. Do you have the official summons, in writing, so that I may see when exactly the Matron has asked to see me?"

He scanned her up and down, sighing some. He spoke, as if disappointed.

"Oh my, it seems you don't have one. Well, I won't be able to go see the Matron until the proper paperwork is filed. Afterall, both of us are incredibly busy people."

The crowd had grown somewhat quiet around them, listening in. Ezel Belber nodded at them, turning around on one heel, almost showy.

"Oh Sergeant, a few things before we part ways. Calling these people's desire to defend their country a "lack of faith" is a disheartening comment. I believe that these people are showing only the truest loyalty to our beautiful city of Connolaoth. They agree, as should we all, that this time those dark creatures that wield the powers of magic need to be purged from our borders, once and for all. To prove my innocence in any sort of misdeed, allow me to show you this."

He held up a handful of letters, each bearing a different, yet distinct seal of several nobles, each seal broken.

"Offers of assistance to these people's cause. The nobles agree with the idea that the time is ripe for our glorious cause to purge this world. In fact, since you're heading that way, tell the Matron I would like to meet her at noon tomorrow, to discuss her pledging the support of the Mordecai and the main military to this cause."

He thrust a letter bearing his own seal, a pair of silver snakes eating each other by the tail, circling around a red eye, into the Sergeant's hand.

"You may give that to her. Have a pleasent day sergeant, if you will excuse me."

He turned to walk away, moving five steps before turning again, as if something had occured to him.

"Oh, yes, one more thing. I am Ezel BELBER, not Berbel. Try not to confuse me with your excersize equiptment, maam."

The crowd burst into loud, raucous laughter, like a deep rumbling, and Ezel vanished into their midst, a company of about twelve men surrounding him as an honor guard, and the great mass of the mob following him, leaving Fahmida alone in the street.

[Anonymous]

Why did I have to pop up on the scene at the worst possible time? I thought as my eyes took in the damage all around me. Someone had wrecked this city, that was clear, and here I was at the back of the crowd, trying to blend in, when the people were on the verge of a riot. Just great.

I'd come here after fleeing my homeland in the hope of never having to see or hear about anything magical ever again, only to discover that I could never escape something that was part of myself.  With the powerful wings (alas, the only part of me that could be described as "powerful") that grew from my back plainly visible, it was obvious I wasn't from around here. And the people of Connlaoth did not take kindly to an outsider such as myself within their borders. Magic was outlawed here. On that vein, I was outlawed here as well.

After being seen once or twice on the outskirts of the land, I'd learned to stay out of sight and keep to myself. I slept unsheltered in the small patches of wilderness between towns in all types of weather (when I could sleep, that was...when the nightmares didn't get to me) as was the habit of my people, although I'd fallen ill as of late thanks to the lack of feathers which would have kept my warmer and drier anywhere except my wings (caused of course by my impure blood).  Being too clumsy to steal, I scavenged for food, which was probably why I was half-starved and frail.  When entering a city or even a small town was necessary, I threw a heavy cloak over my shoulders to hide my wings and kept a hood on to cover my ears. I avoided this whenever possible, as being stuffed under thick cloth made my wings sore and I obviously couldn't fly without giving away my secret.

But when I'd seen the ruins and heard the shouts in the distance (atleast I could still see farther than a human, and hear much better) I'd thrown that damned cover, dirty and wet from the weather, on and come to check out this mess.

And what an awful mess it was. Buildings were razed, debris was laying around everywhere, streets were ripped apart and people were pissed. My head throbbed and my vision blurred with the force of their anger as I got closer. Cursed empathy! Of course every Aquilan had it. It was not so much magic, really, as it was a talent for picking up on mental signals. All beings, whether animal, plant or person, were connected by what could be explained as mental cables, and some beings could feel the effects of surrounding people's thoughts through those cable while others could not. I got scattered, staticky messages from my connection- a faulty cable.

It didn't take even the slightest bit of empathy, however, to know that here was not a good place for me. The destruction of the city, along with the murder of a nobleman, was being blamed on Serendipity and they were planning to go to war, which added to the danger here for every gifted species there was...including my kind. And a sickly little emaciated hybrid boy wouldn't stand a chance of survival in a mob like this, regardless of the fact that I was an outcast in my native land. Hell, I wasn't even from Serendipity, but all supernatural beings were probably the same in a Connlaothan commoner's eyes. I would have to get out of here.

Except...it wasn't all that easy. People were stomping and yelling, and none of them seemed to care who or what they stepped on. As someone nearby was pushed back to make way for a woman with an imperious voice who was heading for the fromt of the crowd, a booted foot came descended upon the hem of my cloak, pulling the clasp open and causing the article to fall away from my shoulders. I stood in shock as damp garment dropped to the ground, leaving my wings openly visible. Gasps were heard from people nearby, who quickly regained their composure and closed in on me, pinning my wings to my chest so that I was trapped on the ground.  

"Please, no..." I pleaded quietly, hoping for some unlikely sympathy. "Good people of Connlaoth, I mean you no harm..." I paused, looking over my shoulder out of nervous habit. "I am weak, sick-" I sneezed, and not for effect "-and tired. I could never do even a fraction of the damage that was done here...And I too dislike magic. My own people rejected me, drove me out, and left me to die...Spare my life, and for what little value my assistance may have I will fight alongside you...to the death..." Glancing over my shoulder again, I waited for a reaction. I seemed to have caused a disturbance among the mob, for they were turning their attention away from the interaction between the woman and their chosen leader. A leader who would no doubt allow them to destroy me...

[Anonymous]

Ezel, as he walked, noticed the mob attacking somebody, and slowly moved through the crowd to investigate. Might as well make an example that he was fair as well as incite...ful...

Well, this was interesting.

"An Aquillian. Never in a thousand years..."

An angry man yelled to the men pinning the creatures wings down.

"Kill it! Its obviously magic!"

"Yeah! Kill it! Kill anyone that supports magic! YAH!

"YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!"

"Stop."

One world, barely audible, hushed the crowd immediatly, as Ezel approached the creature, brushing the dust off its shoulder. He leaned in close, his eyes searching the Aquillian's body carefully, Ezel's mind carefully made blank. He knew what he saw.

He stood back up, tossing his hair from his eyes, and spoke once more.

"This is no sorceror. Friends, we should all know that even non-humans do not have to use magic. This creature's powers are not from cursed sorcery, but from simple science. We have nothing to fear of it. Nonetheless, I understand that this is no place for a creature like you to be. You will come with me, and I will escort you to somewhere safer."

He indicated to two of his guardsmen, who pushed the mob aside, grabbing at the Aquillian, indicating rather forcefully that he follow Ezel, who was vanishing into a nearby mansion, spared from the assault.

[Anonymous]

Calloused hands stung my bare shoulders, and I flinched. Some of my scars were still fresh, and the roughness with which I was currently being treated had re-opened them. My blood stained the hands of the nearest rioters.

One lupine ear flicked in the direction of a quieter yet more dignified voice. It took a second for the words to sink into my sleep-deprived brain.

...Never in a thousand years...

My already large eyes widened. The speaker knew what I was, had identified my breed with but a glance. But...couldn't he tell I was a hybrid? I had a human face rather than the sharp beak of an Aquilan, and my feet and hands were missing the expected talons.

What did it matter? I was about to be killed, so at that time my pedigree should have been the least of my problems.  Until...

They stopped. They'd been told to by the same man who had shown them the dagger, the one who had atleast heard of Aquilans before. But why? I didn't know, albeit not becuase his mind was blank. Being only half Aquilan, I  didn't always pick up on things- I had no clue that his mind was blank. Maybe some day I would learn to develop my empathy, to repair the the cable. But that would take time.

I felt a sharp sting once again as he brushed dust off of my shoulder, his hand breifly making contact with a particularly large wound that looked and felt as though it had been infected due to dirt and dampness from the cloak that until now had hidden my wings. I showed no sign of it, as I was used tp the dreadful pain of werewolf transformations.

Peering for a split second over my shoulder again, I decided to keep silent. Perhaps I shopuld have thanked him, but I diidn't want to risk being offensive. In my homeland, no one spoke to a leader unless they were spoken to.  

I followed obediently and voiced no complaint when the gaurdsmen shoved me roughly in his direction, causing pain to flare up once again from my injuries. Atleast I was alive.

[Anonymous]

The dark mansion was lit only by a single candle, and the guardsmen pushed the Aquillian roughly infront of Ezel, who was seated casually in a large desk, his feet propped up informally.

With a wave of his hand, Ezel dismissed the guards, and soon he and the Aquillian were alone. The room was very dark, the only light coming from a candle on Ezel's desk. Even though it was light outside, heavy shutters blocked it completely out.

A long silence fell, the smell of old carpet and the wingflaps of a moth the only things noticeable. The moth circled around the candle, swooping in close and at once its wings igniting. It fell, twitchin on the ground, and Ezel spoke.

"Who are you? And why come here?"

[Anonymous]

I hadn't been in any building with a roof in it for more than ten minutes in my entire life, and so I was a little nervous when crossing over the threshold. Why do humans buiid these places to live and work in? I thought, glancing over my shoulder.  I didn't need much light to see, and every detail of the gaurd's emotionless faces was visible to me in a dreary, greywashed style. Really these "houses" and "mansions" looked like sqaure aboveground caves, and I half expected to see bats swooping around or something equally odd.

Ah, and had I mentioned I was somewhat claustrophobic? It made sense, considering I probably couldn't fly indoors without hitting the ceiling and Aquilans didn't build houses. Still, it was a weakness that I wasn't exactly jumping for joy to reveal at the moment, so I tried to look straight ahead and keep my face blank.

I couldn't help looking over my shoulder again as I clumsily approached the desk, ignoring the sharp sting from the gaurd's rough hands on my scars. The force of their shove knocked me off balance and I grabbed the corner of the desk for support, my legs nearly giving out from fatigue and starvation. The glimpse I caught was of them leaving silently, without even so much as a salute to the man who ordered them around. What a strange society these humans had.

As a birdboy I couldn't smell very accurately, but in wolf form I would have noticed the scent of every person who had entered this room and approximately how long it had been since they were last here over the carpet.

My mind ached as a moth got too close to the candle and went up in flames, and again I cursed nonverbally about stupid faulty empathy. I never knew who or what I was going to get a signal from next. Were I alone in the room I would have crushed the burning creature to put it out of it's misery, but killing any living creature (even out of mercy) in the presence of a leader was forbidden in my culture. Besides, then the question of why the fire did not hurt me might arise.

Massaging my temples and trying to block out the moth's pain, I peered once more over my shoulder before answering the man's questions.

"I am Ruscanti Seht-Avihikarda..." I paused, wondering if the he knew that "seht", when used in a surname, denoted unknown parentage. If it was used as a prefix, the father was outcasted or unknown. If a suffix, it was the mother who was either unknown or an exile.

"I've come here to escape my past, as my people drove me out."

[Anonymous]

"Drove you out? I guess they would, with a half-breed. But why Connolaoth?"

Ezel didn't move from his position, but leaned forward, flicking the burning moth off the desk with his forefinger and thumb, letting it tumble off the edge of the desk.

"And where did you get those wounds?"

[Anonymous]

So he atleast knew a little. He knew my blood was impure. I'd give him credit later.

"Why Connolaoth?" I repeated bitterly, the moth's thoughts still pulsing in my mind. I watched the poor creature fall to the floor, wishing I could heal it.

The intensity of my already fiery eyes increased as I reached up to a particularly deep wound on my neck, near my jugular vein. A failed attempt to kill me. I wiped some of the fresh blood that trickled down towards my shoulder onto my palm and, taking a second to glimpse over my shoulder again, showed the crimson liquid to him in the dim candlelight.

"This is why."

I didn't expect the second question, but I obediently answered it nonetheless. The long, running scars were talon marks where the angry villagers had sunk their claws tinto my shoulders, and they continued all the way down my back as I had struggled to get free but they hadn't let me go without a fight. A series of gashes on my neck showed where the lead mage of the town, who had lost his sight, had searched blindly for the vein that, when puntured, would kill me. The memories were incredibly vivid, yet I left out most of the details when I spoke.

"The day I was driven out, my father returned for me. They were waiting for my mother, their strongest warrior, to die off so they could drive me out anyway, and they would have been willing to let him have me, but...they had a problem with him being a demon..." If he knew the first thing about my kind, he would know that Aquilans and demons had a history of disliking eachother. "Dislike" wasn't exactly the right word. Try "slaughter". I paused, glanced behind me back, and continued.

"Needless to say, there was a riot. My mother, who had been partially exiled within the village already, was chased out too, albeit much more peacefully. As for my father and I- they tried to kill us both. I escaped, although barely, and I speculate that he must've survived aswell but I cannot be sure, for that was the first and last time I saw him."

[Anonymous]

"Demon eh?"

A crafty, almost catlike smile appeared on Ezel Belber's face.  A smile most of the people who once knew him had come to fear. He stood, pacing away from the desk, his voice speaking from the shadows.

"So tell me, what demonic abilities has your father left you? Can you open rifts to other worlds? Consume the souls of humans? Manipulate the four elements? Change your shape? Surely, with an Aquillian mother and a Demon father, you must have been given something."

He stepped soundlessly up behind the youth, his voice never changing from its low, silky tone.

"Am I right?"

[Anonymous]

"Yes, demon." My voice was it's usual hoarse monotone.

I didn't like the new expression on this man's face. What was he up to? I struggled mentally to pick up the signal, but all I could get was that he had lied about something huge sometime within the last twenty-four hours. Not exactly what I was looking for, but I filed it away in my mind for future reference.

I could still see every detail of his cunning smile in the shadows, although I was mostly colourblind in the dark so he looked really creepy. I looked over my shoulder again., canine ears perked in the direction of his voice. I sneezed, pain shooting through my neck as I did so.

"Sir, my abilities are nowhere close to their full potential. Since I had to keep them as secret as possible for most of my life, I have had very little practice."

I heard footsteps behind me, steps that to a human or an Aquilan would have been completely silent. I tensed- I never did like people walking too close to my wings, and I espescially hated it now that my back was a mess of newly re-opened, bloody wounds. However, I said nothing about it.

"Indeed, you are right. Not four, but three of the elements- unless you count flying as manipulating air. And I'm terribly out of practice with those. I can shapeshift into a water demon, but nothing else. As for soul consumption-" here I paused, laughing mirthlessly "-that's no ability, it's a way of life. Once every five winters I must drain the life force of another to survive." I guessed I could probably do that more often than once per five years if there was someone I really needed out of the way, but I had never tried it before. Had I sucked too many souls in my hometown someone would have noticed and found out sooner that my father was a demon. Who wouldn't be suspiscious after a series of disapppearances like that? Peering momentarily behind me again, I continued.

"Depending on how strong they are, I don't necessarily have to drain them to the point of no recovery. But even those who do recover are changed. They lose much of their emotion, and become lethargic and weak. Some never truly die, but are made into something similar to a zombie. "

I said nothing for a long moment, then glimpsed briefly over my shoulder, seeing into his eyes this time, and spoke once again.

"By the way, there i something else I should mention. From my father I have been given more than power and the need for souls- I also inherited lycanthropy. "

(OOC: The reason his soul-draining wasn't mentioned in the joining post was because I planned to reveal it, along with most of his history, gradually through RPing out his nightmares.)

[Anonymous]

"Indeed. Well, I applaud your honesty."

Ezel circled the young Aquillian, his footsteps echoing around them. The heavy shadows of the room seemed...heavier. Something had suddenly changed in the air. That same hungry look had grown in Ezel's eyes, like a vulture circling a corpse.

Moving over to his desk, Ezel picked up a large cane, with a wolf's head on the tip. He spun it lazily in his hand for a minute, before suddenly bringing it down onto the ground. There was a flash of light, and the ground was...different.

A red circle appeared on the ground, intricate, well-drawn lines, with runes everywhere, now lay beneath Ruscanti, the pulsing red light reflecting off his skin. Ezel spoke, his voice somehow darker.

"I hope you recognize this. This is a Magic Circle. An ancient, nearly archaic magic spell, that's been around so long, its almost elementary in its design. It works as a seal, a ward. The Mordecai work in a similar manner, but this can do so much more then they."

Ezel walked over to the Aquillian, standing right in front of him.

"As long as you are inside this circle, you are a prisoner, bound by your demonic blood. Only by my command could I free you. As a Noble of Connolaoth, I am required by law to crush your skull and burn your corpse within this circle, trapping your soul forever in a horrible pergutory. That is the fate of demons."

Ezel crouched, his oddly placid, yet still smiling face inches from Ruscanti's.

"So, let me ask you: would you like to join me?"

[Anonymous]

I felt the thickening of the air, and the world seemed to turn sideways. Damned empathy again! I'd sensed his intent but was mentally crippled for one precious moment... just long enough for him to trap me.

I looked down, dreading what I would see before I even laid an eye on it... the same runes, the same design...I raised a skinny arm to shield my sensitive eyes from the light.

I closed them, hoping that if I was in another nightmare I would wake up soon. A lot of part-demon hybrids couldn't stand the shock of dying in a dream, and died in the waking world as a result. Slowly, carefully, I opened my haunted fiery eyes and peeked out from behind my arm.

There it was. Damn.

Of course I recognized it. The demon slang term for it was a little vulgar, and I didn't know the proper name for it. But I'd seen others suffer withins it's borders, and I'd been threatened with it twice myself. Well, three times now.

The bit about crushing my skull and burning the corpse was all very nice and pleasant, but why wait until now? He could have trapped me the minute I said I was part demon, and had so much more power over me. Besides, my skin didn't burn. He'd have to pour acid over the corpse or something.

Surprisingly, I wasn't really as scared as I would have imagined myself to be in a situation like this. Maybe because I didn't really believe in any purgatory or whatever. Death was death, and the dead simply ceased to exist. No Hell, no pain, no joy or family reunion or whatever the afterlife was supposed to be. Just inertia, numbness, nothing. Still, best to delay the final moment as long as possible, right? Just in case.

The fact that he had to crouch to meet me at eye level had no effect on me. Short, tall, weak, strong, good, evil, sane, mindtouched- they all met their match eventually, whether they fell in battle or became the victims of time or illness. I returned his peircing look with a dull, lifeless and unfocused gaze of my own. My face held no expression.

"I have nothing but my life to lose, and nothing but revenge to gain. But if you'll allow it, I'm in." My slow, raspy voice contained no feeling as I spoke.

[Anonymous]

He clapped his hands together, the circle vanishing suddenly, his voice bright and chirpy.

"Oh good! What excellent news that will be. Well, this place will be your new home, pick a room and settle yourself in. Don't try to leave the house, the mob outside will lynch you."

He was moving now, pushing heavy tomes into a sack.

"I will be gone for a day or two, there's food in the kitchen, you should find it easily enough, and try to heal some of those wounds. Heavens knows, it already looks infected. Try some herbal water, there's a decent collection of herbs in the kitchen too, if you can tell the difference between cooking and healing ones."

Ezel waved his hands and the candles lit up easily, filling the house with light. He grabbed a heavy cloak off a now-visible armchair, draping it around himself and pulling over a hood.

"If you get terribly bored, there's a library on the second floor, most books that would try to eat you are locked, and most are in dwarfish-I must finish learning that language-but everything else should be shipshape, so, if you have no questions, I must be off."

He moved over to a side door, stopping before he opened it and turning on his heels.

"Oh, and try to perk up your senses, dear boy, if an empath is fooled by an illusion as petty as that "magic circle" I conjured, you'll end up being killed by far less fashionable rougues them myself. Cheerio!"

He was out the door in a flash, the door clicking behind him, leaving the Aquillian standing in the middle of a rather ordinary-looking house, completely empty.

[Anonymous]

Why so cheerful all of a sudden? This guy was really starting to creep me out. And of course I wouldn't try to leave, did I look suicidal to him? Well, probably. After all, I wasn't exactly the happiest person around. And you never could tell for sure if you went on just appearance.

Trying to heal the worst of my injuries sounded like a good plan. If my sense of pain hadn't been dulled by frequent shifts into my canine form, they would have been quite painful. I could tell the difference between cooking herbs and healing herbs- but just barely.

I put my arm up again and blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the sudden abundance of light. Damn, this guy was dramatic.

Carnivorous books? I'd stay away from them. After two angry mobs, there was no way I was going to let a goddamned book take me out. My eyes now fully used to the light, I dropped my arm at my side. I looked over my shoulder again. Nah, I had no questions.

After he left, I felt the first bit of emotion I had in an awfully long time- embarassment. His circle illusion had made a total idiot of me. But damn it all to Hell, he had to give me some credit! I was only half Aquilan, and since my mother was a fighter her greatest skill had been blocking people out. I sometimes wondered if perhaps the reason my empathy was a little shaky was becuase I was unintentionally blocking everyone out most of the time. Besides, I'd witnessed the use of the real thing before- whether he even knew the real thing existed or not. So maybe I'd been a little foolish to assume that he could bring up the circle without the proper rituals...that was just sleep deprivation. Speaking of which, now that he was gone the first thing I was going to do was try to sleep. My wounds could wait. I was starving, but food could wait as well. And heading to the library to see if I could find anything on how to tell the actual circle from a fake could definitely wait. With the echo of the door's click fading from my ears, I headed off to try and find somewhere to sleep.

[Anonymous]

(This thread can close now, I'll let you know when your character will enter the fold of Ezel's little plot again. Most likely, after the events in the Catacombs are finished.)

[Anonymous]

(OOC: Okay, I'll keep reading what goes on in the catacombs as that thread progresses. So am I free to post with Rus somewhere else, or do I just wait?)