Spirits of the Earth

 The elderly alchemist carefully peered at the murky fluid through the magically treated glass vessel she provided for the purpose of containing it. "Well, it looks like what I ordered..." She frowned, her emotions clearly echoing through. There was the salty taste of awareness, she knew even before placing the order that the only way to truly know if she wasn't cheated would be through a series of tests - tests she had no intention of conducting. It would take time, ingredients, and most important, use up some of her precious reagent. She really wanted the creepy mercenary out of her lab, but at least she wasn't willing to make costly mistakes because of it.

She ruffled through her pockets, then groaned. "Figures. Give me a moment to get your pay. Don't touch anything!" She carefully placed the vial on one of the shelves and charged off into the repository.

Perhaps it was to be expected. Mad scientist types usually kept dangerous things in their pockets, rather than convenient things such as money. It was probably time to wait.

Someone knocked. The door of the workshop opened slowly, revealing a suspicious-looking redheaded boy. "Hello?" he asked. "Is Arcanist Ivis here?"

Though it had taken a few days to gather that particular component, it hadn't been an extremely taxing job: venture into the depths of the wilderness to locate an exceptionally rare plant that only bloomed once a year under extremely specfic conditions. Wait until nightfall and only when the full moon had risen, slice into the plant's thick, fleshy stem; collect the almost bloodlike sap into the glass vessel without wasting a drop of that liquid or accidentally spilling it on herself, then return at once. No explanation was given about the nature of the plant, nor requested: all that had been required had been a rough location, a description of said plant and the conditions for retrieving the fluid. Had the colorless individual not been beset by a small, stupid and rather drunk group of bandits on her way back to the alchemist's lab, she would have returned a day beforehand, but such things were to be anticipated and handled. Though she'd been roughed up a little by the bandits when she'd encountered them, none of the bruises and lacerations were life-threatening by any means; she'd be sore for a while, but it was nothing unusual, certainly not giving any consideration to.

Now, the eerily silent mercenary leaned -perhaps a bit too casually- against one of the laboratory walls, patiently waiting for the alchemist to finish examining the dark, murky fluid that had been retrieved. She nodded at the older lady's assessment of the fluid being what had been requested; however, her forehead furrowed and a soundless sigh escaped slightly-parted lips. She didn't think the other woman was aware of how clearly she was projecting her own doubts- it wasn't anything she was unaccustomed to, but that didn't make it any less irritating. If I'd wanted to cheat you, I would have demanded half the pay up-front and brough back horse piss! An eyebrow was arched, a vagely amused smirk softening her heavily-scarred countenance just slightly- the alchemist wanted her gone so badly that the mercenary could almost taste that desire; had she been an overly spiteful woman, she probably would have pretended to doze off right then and there.

As the lady groaned and began speaking, amusement alighted within the mercenary's eye, her arms unfolding, one sweeping out at the shelves as she shrugged and shook her head once; she had no idea what any of those components and tools were, nor did she particularly care. Her hand lifted, quickly and easily moving into a series of short motions that spelled out: "There's no need to rush, I'm not going anywhere yet." She still didn't know if the elderly alchemist understood what she was saying with those signs, but she assumed everything else was clear enough. Probably. Shifting a bit, she leaned her head back against the wall, wondering idly if she was going to receive the full price that they'd agreed upon; there was no such thing as being too cautious when it came to payment and if the lady tried to pull a fast one on her, she'd just have to take measures to receive the rest.

Perendi was jolted from her own thoughts and idle suspicions as someone knocked and the door slid open. Though the newcomer seemed  untrustworthy, most children she'd met before had seemed that way as well. Inclining her chin in greeting to the boy, she lifted one hand and held it palm-up, in the oft-understood gesture for "stop" or "wait."  This was followed up by a nod; an attempt to let the newcomer know that yes, the Arcanist was indeed present, but busy at the moment.

She wouldn't move from her rather lazy position against the wall, at least for now though. At the moment, despite the tangled collection of emotions that flitted and danced like an electrical current in the air that set the empathic warrior's nerves on edge, she would simply try to remain still and unfazed, even if her jaw was clenched a bit too tightly, her posture perhaps a little too rigid, for her to truly appear placid.

 Val nodded, understanding her gestures. He sat on one of the stools, waiting. Most of the time, he'd spend time chatting, but he feared he didn't know sign language to have a conversation. The last thing he did was to draw someone into a discussion and then not even be able to understand their replies!

Arcanist Ivis returned, bearing a leather pouch. Her eyes immediately narrowed as she saw Val. "Get out of here!"

The prince raised his hands in a half-surrender, half-reflexive defence. "I have a message for you from-"

"Then wait outside!" she shouted. "I don't want your curse ruining my lab! Do you have any idea how rare and delicate my equipment is?!"

"I- alright" he accepted. He could wait for her outside. He got up and headed for the door. As he was walking past where Ivis put the fruit of Perendi's hard work, his hand brushed against the wooden shelf. It wasn't nearly enough to even shake it, but the enchanted vial still wobbled and began to fall.

The arcanist's eyes were fixed upon the unfortunate mineral. Her mind was awash with a strong sense of 'OH FUCK' as her lips chanted a spell to catch it - she couldn't make it there in time. Alarmed, Val turned around, only to watch the fragile vessel crash on the floor. The reactive fluid immediately began to sizzle on the floor, deafened by the sound of Ivis' heart breaking.

A cacophony of emotions washed over the arcanist. There was this sudden, deafening wave of anger heavily washed with hopelessness. Under the surface, there was an undertone of grudge against gods, fate, or whatever she believed in for putting her in this position. Her loss, after all, was not caused by personal actions, or even negligence, but factors outside her control. It was understandable, but almost subconscious, and easily subsumed by the other feelings. Under all of it was buried a hint of bitterness.

Val began to apologize as she stared hollowly at the crime scene. "I really should expand my vocabulary of curses for such occasions" she commented absent-mindedly. "I'll better go find something to clean it up. And you-" she jabbed a finger at the prince - "should stop entering important labs or... other places. You and your message can wait outside." She began to stalk back towards the repository she came from, presumably to find something to stop the fluid from changing the colour of the floor.

An afterthought blossomed in her mind as she walked back - an admission that while the end result was that she wouldn't be getting what she wanted, the mercenary still did her job and probably should be paid for her time. She tossed the pouch back to Perendi and walked on.

Perendi flashed a brief smile in the newcomer's direction; relieved that the boy seemed to at know enough sign language to understand the gist of what she was trying to explain. While most of the time, such a long interval of waiting would usually be filled with conversation or playing a quick game of dice, she wasn't uncomfortable with the silence that fell in the meantime. After all, she was simply here to complete her job and be on her way once more. While she was quite curious about why the Arcanist seemed quite angry with the boy being in the laboratory, especially when he had explained he'd only just arrived to deliver a message and nothing more. It wasn't her business to uncover the reason for that.

Her curiosity was peaked at the mention of the student being cursed, however. The mercenary hadn't encountered anyone else so afflicted and it was only natural that she'd have to swallow a bit of inquisitiveness to keep from sticking her nose where it wasn't wanted or needed. However, her eye widened considerably when the child only seemed to very lightly touch the shelf that the fruit of her labor perched, only to cause the shelf to begin tumbling down.

There were not enough profanities to express the horror of watching that vial come tumbling down- and though the mercenary wasn't exactly slow-moving, neither her sudden lunge away from the wall nor Ivis's attempts to recapture the vessel were swift enough to keep the enchanted phial from shatering on the floor. For several long moments, Perendi could only stare dully at the sizzling fluid that splashed across the floor. However, almost immediately, that dumbfounded inactivity faded away as the silent mercenary flinched and rocked backward on her heels, stumbling backward a step as though she'd just taken an unanticipated and rather vicious, close-range punch to the stomach; breath coming as short, sharp pants that caught in her throat, the blow might as well have been physical.

Wave after wave of screaming emotion poured over the mercenary, permeating the fabric of her being. What started as the phantom fingers of mindless shock and disbelef quickly twisted into something more malignant: seething rage burning so hot, bright and viciously that it simply could not be contained, lest she'd spontaneously combust: before the hapless soldier of misfortune was even aware of what she was doing, she had pivoted on her heels, countenance screwed up into a snarl of all-consuming, blood-boiling rage as she lifted her right hand, balled it into a fist. That fist was thrown straight out, carrying with it all the strength and bitter anger that roiled within; a savage punch thrown at the closest wall- probably denting, maybe even cracking it. Visible tremors coursed along her spine as she opened her hand and pressed it against the damage she may have inflicted upon that wall; shoulders slumping in confusing, sudden and utterly bitter hopelessness as she shook her head, silently raging aginst the heavens; against the tides of fate and cursing existence itself. Breath catching in her throat, in that moment, she was a woman torn apart by a peculiar sense of loss that might as well have been personal, though it was not her own loss by any means.

When she trusted herself enough to be able to turn and face the other two again, her expression and stance was one that just dared either her employer or the would-be messenger to approach, or even speak to her: tension held her spine broomstick-straight, kept her head high and neck stiff as she reached over her shoulder and tore her warhammer free of its sheath, though she continued to shake like a leaf caught in a strong breeze; knees bending and legs parting as she assumed an offensive stance, merely nodding off-handedly as she heard someone nearby speak-- at the moment, her mind wasn't focused on who was in her immediate vicinity. Stepping forward, forehead creased by a deep frown, solitary eye narrowed into a malicious slit, the muscles in her shoulders and arms bunched as she swung that long-handled hammer at the nearest shelf, needing to destroy something, anything, that she could reach, lips peeling back in an almost animalistic sneer...

Only to jerk her arms downward swiftly, as the Arcanist turned to head back for the repository. The hammer's head thumped loudly, yet harmlessly against the floor as the emotional snare that the empath had become trapped within began to lift, freed from the invisible claws that had seized her mind and had not wanted to relent. Quickly, that hammer was sheathed once more as she raked a hand first through the rope-like serpentine coils of her hair, then down her face, drawing a deep breath as she stared ahead at nothing in particular. At last, the fog lifted from her eye as she would shrug and remain rooted to the spot for a moment; one hand lifting as an afterthought to catch the pouch of coin that the arcanist tossed her way. Not realizing that she still wasn't quite acting herself, she threw a curt nod of gratitude at Ivis for her payment and absentmindedly fastened the pouch to her belt, before stepping backward and slumping against the wall she'd more than likely damaged quite severely. "Fuck. Give me a minute and I'll be gone," Her gesticulation was sloppy and halting, almost incomprehensible. All she needed was a few minutes to catch her breath, regain her composure and she'd be on her way again, eye closing as the emotional onslaught she'd experienced continued to lessen, much like an unbearable weight slowly lifting.

 Val headed outside. He felt really guilty about breaking the vial - the Arcanist's reaction made it clear that it was something rare and important. She would probably send the detailed bill to Astanill, as Wyrdwood researchers usually did. He never paid much attention to money and wealth - because of his position, there was no need for this. But ever since leaving the island, he kept worrying about it. His family wasn't like Di'Veeras, or even the High Lords and Ladies that ruled the provinces. How long until his cost became too high for them to pay?

He moved slowly, trying to avoid the hissing fluid but also not to touch the other shelves. The last thing he wanted was to let his curse do more horm. But even the greatest caution wasn't enough to keep from trouble - the floor has collapsed under him several times, and once at Wyrdwood, it grabbed at its ankle with a many-fingered hand and refused to let go.

He reached the door and carefully pulled it open, ready to let go at the slightest sign that his curse was affecting it. Fortunately, it looked like it was satisfied with just ruining Arcanist Ivis' work. As he was about to leave, his gaze fell on the mercenary. His eyes widened in surprise and worry at the sudden change in her demeanour. Punching the wall was understandable - she just saw the fruit of all her hard work ruined. But the warhammer was a surprise. Was she about to run up to him and attack?

She didn't. Instead, she almost hit a shelf. This wasn't behaviour he could justify in any reasonable way. This was clearly strange, and while she seemed to have enough control over herself not to go into a murderous rage, he couldn't just chalk it up to weirdness and let it go. Against the command of Arcanist Ivis, he turned around and hurried back inside. His boot began to sizzle as he accidentally stepped into the puddle, but he didn't care. "What's going on?" he asked, quietly in order not to unsettle her. "Can- How can I help?"

Under normal circumstances, Perendi would have simply set about completing the job a second time; watching her work fall to ruin normally would have been akin to an unintended insult, but this time around, offering to complete the job again -and for free- was the furthest thing from her mind. The residual emotional storm that hung stagnantly upon the air was enough to be damn near suffocating; before too long, she would end up buried beneath the rubble of the aftermath. Even had the Arcanist offered to pay her again for her services -wealth was something she was attempting to amass for her own selfish purposes- she would have simply refused, if only to avoid the volatile older lady's presence for a few days. (She'd not refuse if she were to be called upon again; she simply needed a rest.) And she needed to be out of the laboratory before that particular aspect of her curse took hold yet again; she'd thought she'd almost mastered that damnable, blade-edged, explosive empathy- but had just been proven wrong for the second time.

She watched the young redhead prepare to leave, would have quickly followed suit; however, as their eyes met and she shook her head, gritting her teeth: concern and startlement adding their own bone-reaching tendrils to the invisible force that threatened to drop her to her knees if she remained in the laboratory for much longer. She could understand his reaction, though: it probably wasn't every day that a strange-looking mercenary nearly punched holes in a wall and almost lost control enough to try and demolish their employer's priceless possessions. It wouldn't have taken much longer for the dam to break and send the strange woman into the throes of bloodlust; though she retained enough resolve to abstain from anything of the sort- for now.

When he turned to approach her again, she offered an apologetic smile and shrugged at his quiet concern and offer of assistance. The latter was something she was unaccustomed to; resulting in a moment's hesitation. She said you were cursed too, so what could it hurt? That thought came moments before she'd breathe a silent sigh, smirking as she began to sign again: "It's nothing to worry about. It's just... part of what I have to deal with; I channel what everyone else feels," It was the easiest way she could explain what had happened, "That was what the poor woman's bearing up under right now," She thought she could explain that much- and as he seemed bright enough, she was sure that he'd put it together without much difficulty.

That smile became a bit warmer as she shook her head again, reaching out to briefly clasp his shoulder in a show of gratitude while her other hand continued to sign: "There's nothing that can be done. I need to leave this room though, before the residue makes me do something else." With that, she would head toward the door rather quickly and step into the hallway beyond. Once there, she'd simply stand near the door, slowly beginning to relax as the emotional weight started to lift considerably. Even with a slight barrier between herself and the lab, there was a considerable difference between the almost mindlessly destructive creature and the somewhat calmer warrior that seemed to be trying to decide what hall to venture down.

 Val was awash with sympathy at her situation. Living in Wyrdwood made him encounter a lot of interesting people, including empaths like her. Most of his discussions with him contained similar complaints, and the first thing the school taught them was how to turn off their power or dampen the effect it had on them. Being an untrained empath was awful, having to feel every single unpleasant emotion around her - but he shouldn't fixate on how bad she had it, since she would feel that too.

So instead he just smiled and focused on feeling as neutral as he could. He would have extended a hand, but physical contact seemed to set off his curse, so it was better not to touch anyone. "Here, come with me - I can show you the way to a less emotionally charged place." He knew his way around Wyrdwood well enough to help, perhaps.

It was strange, to say the least, to detect sympathy radiating from someone else-- and to have that sympathy directed at her; while not overwhelming, it was enough to cause her to cock her head in confusion. It was true that she'd never received training to control the double-edged sword that was the bane of most empaths; when she was in her element, it was something that she fed off of, channeled her opponents' emotions to kindle her own rage and bloodlust that much more. But there was a difference between simply letting go of all of one's inhibitations on the battlefield and almost destroying your employer's belongings, after all. To say that Val's offer to lead her somewhere less emotionally charged was a relief would have been an understatement.

"Lead the way," She signed quickly; an arched eyebrow and cocked head predecessors to a question that was signed quickly, before she had the chance to change her mind: "She said you were cursed, too?" Curiosity could have easily been her downfall, especially when she did her best not to get involved in other peoples' affairs. For the most part, that usually involved her subordinates as well- but knowing that someone else was afflicted was enough to make her want to know more. Even if there was nothing that the mercenary could do to help her new companion, at least it was common ground, in a way. Which was a start, if nothing else.

Usually a woman of few "words" unless she had to give a rousing "speech" or deliver punishment to her own subordinates, she hoped the kid didn't think she was rude by not quite knowing what to "discuss." Though he was probably a student here, she knew that she'd never stepped foot in such an establishment before; so asking about his studies would have just been weird. Sure, she could have offered to teach the kid a few fighting techniques when they got to wherever they were going, but she wasn't sure if that would have been a great idea: some people didn't like the idea of getting their asses handed to them in close-quarters combat as a way to thank them for their assistance, after all. And given how young he looked, it probably wouldn't have been a good idea to offer a round of something cheap and potent at the nearest tavern, either. So, she settled instead for: "You been here long?"

 Val decided to take the woman to Willander Memorial Lecture Hall. The hall monitor there was a very dedicated student nicknamed Venta. She owed it to a very slutty ancestor who once slept with an air elemental, leaving all their descendants with lighter weight and an affinity for air. Venta used her powers to hear any sound louder than the soft rustle of book pages being turned, and expel the offender from her sovereign kingdom. It was a place of supreme silence, and one he considered safe for an untrained empath to gather her bearings. While no study hall was free from occasional frustration that came with the process of learning, Venta would kick out any poor sods who let out just a grunt or a sigh. Because of it, it should be relatively free of bad emotions.

Every now and then, he glanced at her - just to check if she's trying to tell him something, not to make sure that she's following him or something equally creepy. Granted, the woman looked comfortable enough with her muteness that she would probably just tap him on the arm to get his attention of she wanted to communicate, but he far preferred not to put her in such a situation to begin with.

His caution was rewarded when he saw her signing something to him. He blinked, immediately doubting if he saw what he thought he saw or was he misreading this finger shape. 'Too'? He quickly quashed his curiosity - if she wanted to tell him more, he would. He should probably get around to answering it.

"I- yes. That's what I've been sent here for. My family hoped that my curse can be researched in detail in Wyrdwood, and maybe even the scholars here can find out its origin." And a cure, but it was better not to hold out hopes for that. This way, if it never happened, he wouldn't be disappointed, and if the staff managed to create a miracle, he'd be pleasantly surprised.

"I came here a few weeks ago. I spent most of the time trying to find my way around the castle and memorize where the important places were." And of course, whenever he managed to figure out where to go and what route was least likely to set his curse off, either a teleportation experiment moved the entire classroom, the cutthroat academia politics forced the teacher to pick another place to hold their class or some other accident rendered it unusable. While usually such circumstances would make Val suspect his curse's involvement, he was in Wyrdwood long enough to just accept those problems as a part of life here.

Perendi was visibly relieved when she was taken to the lecture hall; while she would probably have questioned the hall monitor's treating the hall like her own personal kingdom, but she knew little enough of Venta or the nature of academies to truly understand how they worked. She figured it was in her best interest and kept her from appearing to be too much of a bumpkin while in the presence of true academics and their students. (She wasn't illiterate or unlearned, but wasn't even a tenth as cultured as her present company, his colleagues and instructors- plus, appearances probably had to be maintained if she wanted to be employed by the academy again, especially considering how nicely the staff seemed to pay.) The near-silence was a very welcome change of pace;  while there wasa bit of frustration here, it wasn't nearly strong enough to bother her in any way. As her tension continued to ease, so too did her footsteps grow lighter until, save for the jingle of coin pouches and weaponry, the creak of leather armor, her movements were almost silent.

She smirked every once in a while, or made a reassuring gesture, when Val kept glancing back at her; she'd initially thought he was wanting to make sure she was following, but that thought was dropped before too long. It didn't cross her mind to suspect him of something nefarious, stupid, or even creepy; the opportunity to launch a misguided attack -she carried her weapons openly; unless her current companion's were concealed, he carried none-, try to rob her (though why someone who could afford to attend an academy such as Wyrmwood might have attempted robbery just seemed a stupid thought to entertain) or something worse had presented itself several times and had not been acted upon. While she might not have been willing to offer trust immediately, she was actually quite at ease; not much different than if she'd been gambling or spending a night drinking with her subordinates.

"Well, shit," She signed back with a curious cant of her head, "I never knew anyone would be curious enough to research them," It was the truth, she'd always figured that the cursed had to deal with their afflictions in whatever way they could, not that there was a research department trying to figure them out. Her expression turned to one of incredulousness when he mentioned the scholars possibly being able to discern its origin, "Do things like the origin really matter very much?" While she knew exactly where her curse had come from, she didn't think she'd have bothered to try and figure out its source, if she hadn't been aware. Had she been aware of his intention to try and find a cure, she probably would have either brushed that thought off, or laughed; Perendi had no idea that anyone could find a way to cure their curses, since they weren't a wound that could be patched up or illness that could be healed through herbs or sorcery. She might have believed in a wide variety of things -some even foolish- but Perendi didn't put stock in miracles. "Yeah," She would sign as an afterthought and shrug, "I did say 'too.' I've got one as well, but it's nothing to worry about." That information was offered more as a way to try and put her companion a little more at ease than anything else.

"It's got to be a pain in the ass, trying to figure out where everything is. Damn place is big enough to be a stronghold," There was an appreciative gleam in her eye as she signed that statement. While she had no way of knowing the difficulties Val had undergone just trying to figure out where the important classes and other rooms might have been, she would have been happy with a building half as large to use as her base of operations and set her own plans into motion. She could only imagine how many people it would be able to house; how many weapons rooms, training halls and storage rooms it could hold, let alone a truly impressive warroom, if it had been given such a purpose instead of having been used as an institute of higher learning.

 When they sat down in the lecture hall, Val took out one of his notebooks, a quill and a well-sealed inkwell to write back to her. Talking was strictly prohibited in Willander Memorial, in order not to disturb the people who studied. He wasn't confident enough in his abilities to sign back, so that seemed to be the best solution. Venta didn't like the sound of quills scraping against paper and parchment, but the students had the right to take notes, so she couldn't do anything about it.

-Wyrdwood is a research facility as much as a school- he began. -My parents' court mage sent me here because she knew that even if the scholars here didn't know how to handle my curse, they were equipped to find out. And I think she was right - most of them seem very interested in researching it.- Some of them even considered him a test subject valuable enough to cover some of the expenses his curse incurred. He was glad - at least this way, he wouldn't be a burden on his family and the kingdom.

-Most of the scholars are just interested in expanding their knowledge in their chosen field. Apparently my curse isn't something any of them have heard about, which makes me an interesting case to research. And as for origin - well, no one knows where my curse comes from, so it's another unknown for them to research. I think it is important - if I was cursed because someone had a grudge against my family, they're all in danger as well. And if I came in contact with a cursed item, it would be good to identify it so that no one else is cursed.-

Venta passed by. She nodded with approval at Perendi's sign language. Val had a terrible suspicion that she might push for classes for anyone using the hall. Fortunately, either she didn't notice that the writing on the parchment wasn't study material - or she didn't care, as long as they were quiet about it.

Val shook some ink drops off the quill as he waited for her to sign back. He had a few questions to ask her as well, but he would focus on answering hers first. She didn't appear to be in a hurry, after all, and neither was he. His morning class was far over, and the afternoon class was moved for tomorrow, since the teacher got transformed into a statue and they needed to wait for the spell to wear off.

Perendi nodded when they sat in the lecture hall; it made sense for her companion to switch to quill and paper- even a sneeze would probably have seemed impossibly loud in the silence that shrouded the hall. Besides, if they discussed anything that could have been considered confidential, it would have made more sense for him to write to her, rather than say something that might have been used as blackmail material by any of the other students. She had no way of knowing if they'd attempt to use sensitive information for their own gain against one of their own, but in her line of work, it would have been expected- so as far as she was concerned, precautions made perfect sense.

"Ahh, that's a good way to cover their research, then! I'd thought they were just a school for aspiring mages," She began signing after reading what he'd written and slid across the table to her. So, it seemed as though he was probably more notable than just the noble's son that she'd pinned him as being. That was definitely interesting information- and if he was exceptionally high-ranking, perhaps she'd need to remember that; not that she gave a damn about any kingdom in particular, but because it never hurt to have associates in high places. "Perhaps your family's court mage made the right choice- I can't say for certain either way. If it's a cursed object, wouldn't you still need to be in contact with it?" There was open curiosity in her expression as she signed that question. As far as she'd ever been aware, one had to maintain contact with a cursed object for it to remain in effect- but admittedly, she was far from an expert on curses and was not versed in the mechanics of how most of them worked.

"Why would anyone curse you just to get even with your family?" That curiosity only continued to grow. Perendi understood that people could become cursed for any number of reasons, but she'd never heard of it used as a tactic against someone's family- that didn't make much sense to her. She nodded in polite greeting as Venta passed by, yet was relieved that the girl didn't seem too curious or concerned about what the pair was engaged in.

Perendi leaned back a bit in her seat after she'd finished signing. She wasn't sure if he intended to answer her rapidfire questions, but she certainly wasn't in a hurry. Her entourage knew that she'd taken a privately-assigned mission and knew that she'd be returning after dusk; besides, if they needed her, her mage knew a communications spell that would have put them in contact. Her subordinates were probably enjoying their time away from her, either drinking and gambling themselves into a stupor at one of the local alehouses, indulging in whores and narcotic herbs, or just lazing about. A day or so without work gave them a much-needed break and when such an opportunity was presented, they took advantage of it in every way they possibly could.

 -Well, this is a school for mages. And a place of research and learning. I'm probably not the best person to tell you about it - I've only been here for a few weeks- he admitted, pulling out another piece of paper to write on. He was certain that there was so much to Wyrdwood that he didn't know. -I attend some classes, of course, but I cannot be compared to the talent most students here have.-

He was surprised at the question about the cursed object. -They do?- he asked, before quickly striking it through. Clearly, she must have had interacted with some before, and doubting her experience would be arrogant. -I think the scholars who put forth the cursed object hypothesis meant the kind of an object that curses whoever touches it, and either getting rid of or outright destroying it wouldn't work. One of my classmates is actually working on such a thing as one of her projects.-

He hesitated a bit before writing up an answer to the final question. -It's another theory put forward by the scholars here. Most of the staff and students at Wyrdwood are nobility, so they're quite used to scheming and intrigue. Things like cursing someone as a revenge for something their family did, or even laying a curse upon an entire bloodline, apparently happen here - especially considering the natural aptitude for magic Serenians have. I suppose I am lucky to be sent here - this really is the best place to find out why and how I was cursed.-

"It's kind of interesting that they conduct research in the same facility they teach you guys," She began, a somewhat teasing smirk softening her features as she continued that train of thought, her signing slower and far less frantic than it had been earlier. Probably far easier to understand and follow, as well. "And I'm probably not the best person to be here at all- I don't know much about schools or research." It was, perhaps, an admittal and acceptance that neither were very adept at explaining things concerning the academy, given both of their circumstances for being there. Well, that and the fact that what education she had was far from formal. "Everyone sells themselves short. Do you have an area of study you're proud of?" Perendi would be damned if it didn't seem to her like she was suddenly trying to interview him for a position in her entourage. She didn't really know all that much about magic since she was perfectly inept, let alone its different disciplines, but that didn't stop her from wanting to know a bit more.

That smirk became a crooked smile and shrug at the question he struck out. She hadn't personally handled a cursed object before, but Jurre, a rather greedy rogue in her company, had come into possession of a cursed amulet he'd lifted off a dead sorceress's corpse a few months back. It had been simply taken as the spoils of battle at the end of a long infiltration job and the hapless fool had assumed the amulet had been the source of the sorceress's power- it had never crossed the ass's mind that the amulet had been ensorcelled so that if anyone but his adversary had worn it, they would have been cursed. And well, given that it had been a sapphire set in gold, Jurre had of course worn it. For two months, the idiot had only been able to speak in rhyme, quite happily started paying his coworkers' tabs at a few different taverns, gave alms to the poor when he'd ventured into cities and had fainted at the sight of all blood. Though it had been extremely entertaining at first, a few of the Hounds had ended up "curing" Jurre's affliction when they found the sod sobbing and whining while emptying his gold pouch into a chalatan priest's hands. It had been quite an experience, convincing Jurre to finally have the amulet appraised- and to sell it. They never did find out what happened to it in the long run.

"Ahh, I haven't heard of that kind of cursed object very often. Must be difficult, isn't it?" Indeed, she'd only heard of such an item maybe once or twice; either she didn't associate with the right circles often enough, or it took a lot out of a mage to create such a curse. Glancing around to make sure that none of the other students were currently looking their way and Venta wasn't circling their table again, she shifted positions and quickly unhooked her liquor skin from her belt; gulping a few swallows of the cheap, potent rotgut and attaching it yet again. She didn't know what the academy's policy on things like booze was- and didn't exactly want to get caught and asked to leave just yet.

Perendi arched an eyebrow and seemed just as hesitant to answer her companion as he had been to explain that nearly all the students were of nobility. "Damned nobles always have to make things more complicated than they need to be; what with that nonsense intrigue and petty scheming shit. They'll probably never realize how much easier it is, just to punch a bastard in the face, or gut him and be done with it." A silent shrug punctuated that signed statement, though a bit of amusement still lightened her countenance. "Even if Serenians are naturally magically inclined, I don't understand why they don't just... I don't know, launch a lightning bolt up someone's ass or summon a spirit to deal with whoever pissed them off. It'd make more sense than going after their whole damn bloodline, wouldn't it?" It might not have been the best idea to let her thoughts on nobles' scheming be known, but she didn't think it would hurt anything. It wasn't exactly like she was condemning their caste, after all, just expressing a lack of understanding about how they operated. A nod would be offered at his statement, followed by:

"I suppose you are lucky to be here, same as the rest of them. I don't imagine any of you would have an easy time trying to learn about your curses, do some research and learn, while having to figure everything else out as well. And you know, if you're in a place where you can take advantage of the resources offered to you, then I'd say do it." Perendi wouldn't presume she knew what tuition or boarding might have cost, but she could understand how difficult it might have been if the students didn't have a centralized, safe place where they could learn and experiment. With that, she would tilt her chair back a bit and wait to see what he had to say; and of course, she was willing to answer anything that might have been thrown her way, as well.

 Val smiled at her signs. -I like this idea- he wrote, his pen moving quickly on the paper. -A lot students here are rather unique - some are magical by themselves, like Venta, some have strange abilities that most teachers aren't familiar with. This is where the research part comes in. Even if no one knows exactly how to best handle and employ their skills, everyone wants to learn and has different ideas to try out. It's truly an amazing place.-

He meant it. Even if the research into his curse didn't help - though he doubted that would happen, considering the sheer amount of talent and effort here at Wyrdwood - he would still consider his journey here to be worth it. He learned so much in those few weeks, and it was just the beginning.

-Well, I didn't get to try a lot of magic yet- he admitted, tapping his finger against the paper in a sudden rush of awkwardness. -There is a lot of theory and lectures I attend - and I spend more time being studied than studying. I learned a few basic spells, but I don't cast them too often - my curse has a way of making whatever I try go horribly wrong. If I try to use magic to ignite a candle, for example, it goes out of control and sets the surroundings on fire. Most of the time, I cast spells when the researchers want to test how my curse impacts magic. It's for the best - they are usually prepared and can counter the inevitable disaster."

He didn't answer the inquiry into the nature of noble intrigue and inefficiency of curses immediately. He wasn't even insulted, he just wanted to give this matter more thought and consideration. -Maybe it's about making an example- he suggested, finishing each letter carefully. -A fireball in the face is quickly forgotten, but a curse upon the entire bloodline is remembered. That, and murder is still a crime, so I suppose outright assassination or something easy to trace is more risky than a curse. Though I can't claim to be an expert on the matter. My homeland is a rather small place, nothing like Serendipity.-

He hesitated at her comment, his question slowly battling his way to the forefront of his mind. It looked like the peace in the study hall had a good effect on her, so their purpose was achieved. It was as good time as any to ask - especially since while he had nothing else to do today, he didn't know if she also shared this freedom. He wrote very carefully, as if he was wary of the letters fleeing the parchment or transforming into something he didn't want to say, as he knew that what he was about to ask was rather sensitive. -If you don't mind me asking, do you have any plans about how to get rid of your curse?-

"It does sound like a pretty damn neat idea," She admitted after reading his note. A place where even the most unique magical talents could cooinside with others who possibly were just as strange made the academy sound like a sanctuary for novice (and not-so-novice) sorcerors; it was something that she could understand them needing and being proud of. "It surprises me though, that people with so many different arcane talents- and some being magical creatures manage to get along. Especially with unfamiliarity thrown in." Perendi fully meant what she had communicated with those signs, her expression open and a bit impressed. If not only magic-users, but noble magic-users were able to learn and research together without there being too many students out for one anothers' blood, the instructors had managed to pull off a damned miracle. And if the research that was being conducted could do something about his curse, she could see that opening other doors in the realms of development and deterrence.

She would smirk at his seemingly sudden awkwardness or shyness, though as she read what he'd written, her smirk would become something of a sly smile. If his curse had the ability to turn a simple act like lighting a candle into a fire, then perhaps that fire could be coaxed into an explosion... now that she could see him being able to turn around and put to great use. That was, as long as those results could be replicated every time he tried to magically light candles or torches. But she'd probably broach that subject soon enough. "You do know that disasters can be extremely useful at times. But if things don't go the way you want them, I suppose it makes sense for you to be studied instead of really being given the chance to play around with magic. Nothing to be worried about; if they manage to find a cure, you might end up amazing them with feats of sorcery." Of course, she had no idea how strong his magical aptitude was and didn't know if she was basically feeding the poor kid lies, but she couldn't say she wasn't sympathetic to his plight. Quite the opposite, actually. "Have there been any real developments toward removing it?"

She hadn't meant to insult with her inquiries about noble intrigue; far from it, actually. It was something interesting to consider, even if all they might have been doing about the matter was theorizing and spitting conjecture. "It might be forgotten fairly quickly, but it would probably cause a scandal- and be an easy way to eliminate a target," She shrugged before continuing to answer, "You're right about a cursed bloodline being memorable of course, as well as probably being very visible- but murder and assassinaton are easy to blame on someone else. I'm not an assassin either though, but I've known a few nobles here and there who wouldn't have blinked at the thought of cutting someone's throat. I do see both sides, though... shit, it's kind of hard to get to the bottom of why it would have taken place to begin with-- I'm starting to see why your parents sent you here!" There was nothing malicious or condescending about that tangent; if nobles these days were more willing to resort to tactics shadier than a simple murder or assassination, she figured there might have been the chance he was there for protection as well as to be researched.

The overall serenity of the study hall had relaxed her considerably; even the dull headache she'd began to develop had faded away to almost nothing. An eyebrow would be arched aht his visible hesitation; she was used to dealing with decisive and sometimes quite abrasive people and as such, had difficulty comprehending why anyone would hesitate to speak what was on their mind. She didn't know if he'd have classes to attend later or not, but she had nothing pressing to deal with until at least nightfall. Her men knew she'd taken on yet another solitary job -they were used to her preferring to work alone- and knew that if anything happened, either they could send someone to scour Serendipity until they found her, or she'd try to find a runner to send back to where they were currently stationed. She would heave a long, silent sigh as she peered down at his written question, trying to come up with a way to phrase what she knew, in a manner that might make sense. She wasn't offended by such a question and given how long ago she'd been cursed, she was more or less resigned to it than anything else. Finally she'd settle on: "That's an interesting question. I know how I was cursed- and I worked for the guy who did it, too; damned bastard's probably long-dead by now, anyway. I want to find a way to remove it, it's a pain in the ass, the reason I don't talk and end up like I was back there. I've had no luck in finding anyone that might know how to break it, I've had it for twelve years."

 Val was about to write up an answer to the question about magic when he noticed that Perendi was still signing to him. He turned his attention completely towards her, especially excited since she was responding to his awkward inquiry into his curse. And since she wasn't waving angrily at him, it should be safe to assume that she wasn't offended, and was willing to have a conversation about it.

-How is your research into how to remove it proceeding?- he wrote quickly, excitement showing through. He did his best to rein in his emotions - he remembered that he was talking with an empath, and he should be mindful not to blast her with her feelings. -I'm probably soun- he quickly crossed it through, changing it to better suit their method of communication. -appearing like I'm trying to recruit a new specimen for the scholars here to study. But if you don't know where to go next, I think this is a good place to get some questions answered.-

He was running out of space on paper. Most of the time, he'd turn it over, but he didn't know if she finished reading - and the ink dried slowly, so it would probably smudge and be ruined. He took a new one out to continue his offer. -Since you know the nature and reason for your curse, I imagine the scholars here would be able to help you faster than me.-

Perendi seemed quite at ease while she waited for Val to answer the question about magic; wondering if it had been either too difficult an inquiry to answer immediately, or if somehow she'd managed to offend him. However, when his attention was focused completely on her signing, she had to bite her inner cheek to keep from laughing at that focus. Her curse was more of a nagging irritation than something she was sensitive about and was willing to discuss it with him, since he shared a similar unfortunate affliction; though far more interesting than her own. However, she found herself shaking her head, lips parting as she gave a bark of silent laughter that probably sounded more like a series of short, breathy gasps than anything else. Laughing at his written inquiry was probably going to make her seem either very stupid or downright weird, but she couldn't help it- her life usually didn't permit much time to devote to researching her curse. When she was finally able to get that laughter under control again, she shook her head apologeticaly and waved a hand to indicate that she wasn't offended in any way, nor had she meant to piss him off or anything of the sort.

"I don't usually have the time to research it," She signed as way of explanation, "And the last time I tried, it ended poorly. I met with Ottilia and Alpheos of La'marri a while back; Ottilia told me I was definitely cursed, Alpheos said I should leave their house and enjoy my life, as far away from them as possible. My own mage doesn't specialize in curses, she's an enchanter who also translates what I say for people who don't understand sign-language." Her hands flashed those signs far more quickly than she intended to; she was beginning to pick up on some of his excitement and in turn, was becoming more enthusiastic than normal. Not to a degree that would impact communications, but giddy, in a strange way.

"Don't worry about it; I was thinking that if you could actually try your candle-lighting magic or other little things like that, if you consistently set fires and start explosions, I was going to try and recruit you myself- I'm the leader of a small mercenary contingent and I'm working on starting something much larger. We could definitely use someone who can start more fires and explosions, but I don't think your family would approve." Of course, as she had no idea who his family was, she couldn't say if they'd cut off what -if any- inheritence he might have had if he took her up on her half-assed offer. The shit-eating grin she sported would have clearly illustrated: "and now, we're even."

Finished reading what he'd written, she would motion that he could continue whenever he wanted to continue, signing: "Do you know how much the scholars would charge? It'd be damn nice to be able to talk again, not to mention having repeat clients and getting new recruits to stick around for more than a few hours or days." Given how long they'd already been having their discussion, he might have been able to detect the more repugnant aspect of her curse; the unnatural repellent that normally pissed people off and turned them away in some of the strangest and most interesting ways.

 Venta's head whipped around lightning-quick, her short hair frizzing through the air like ill-tempered clouds. She advanced on laughing Perendi and her accomplice with frightening speed and even more frightening expression. Val barely opened his mouth to apologize, forgetting the silence rule, as she enveloped them both in a magical whirlwind. The air she commanded muffled any sounds, in order not to bother other students, and speedily ejected them from her 'kingdom'.

Val winced as he landed on the ground. He would probably have some new bruises from all that. It wasn't like Venta was trying to hurt them - as a matter of fact, she probably put in extra effort to give them a safe landing, she didn't want to get in trouble with the staff for injuring people. His curse just had a way of making a mountain out of every molehill and an injury out of every impact.

He picked himself up from the ground and extended a hand to Perendi. It was mostly out of politeness - even without the curse weakening his body, he probably couldn't help a well-armoured warrior up anyway. "I'm sorry about that. Venta takes her duties rather... seriously. Are you well?"

She'd never encountered anyone that would have become so downright angry at a sound that was less than the noise made by a soft, lazy breeze- but then again, there was a first time for everything and when Venta whirled on them with reflexes she wouldn't have thought possible- and though she scowled right back at the girl, black eye cold and glittering as she instinctively reached for her war-hammer, she wasn't prepared to be engulfed in a sorcerous whirlwind. Shaking her head as the pair were forceably removed from the study hall, she hit the floor on her knees. Under any other circumstances, she would have come back up swinging, but throwing a blow in the academy probably would have ended up getting her banned for life- if not arrested for assault; besides, the object of that irritation and surprise was nowhere to be found. She's not bad! Was the afterthought.

And it didn't seem like the monitor had intended to harm them anyway; through her armor, Perendi had barely even felt the impact. It probably didn't help matters that her very presence would likely have helped get them removed from the hall one way or the other, anyhow. It was a strange thought, but it almost seemed as though certain aspects of both their curses seemed quite complimentary: Val's ability to make any situation more dire and her own, which caused people to get irrationally angry and disgusted with her presence. All kinds of useful shit that could help with, She thought idly.

Though she climbed back to her feet with ease, she accepted Val's hand out of recognizing that courtesy; had she truly needed assistance, she probably would have only succeeded in yanking him down atop her- which would have been amusing in its own rights, but wouldn't have done anything for either of them. She would shake her head and sign, "It was probably my fault, so it's okay. I'm fine; don't even have a new scratch." Well, her leather armor might have been just the slightest bit more scuffed, but if it was, it was quite difficult to tell and she just didn't give a damn about things like that in the first place. "What about you, though?" A bit of concern creased her face; given what little she'd seen and heard about his curse so far, it wasn't difficult for her to imagine him breaking an ankle or worse, even though she'd been barely phased.

 Val nodded, a small smile of relief appearing on his lips. It looked like the curse put on Perendi didn't affect wounds the way his did. Then again, she probably wouldn't work as a mercenary. He bent down and began to pick up the papers he was writing on, wincing slightly. Venta's spell dried the ink off, so at least he didn't have to worry about that.

"I'm... fine, I think. No bleeding, and I'm pretty sure I would be violating the rule against indecent exposure if I began checking for bruises. It's not that Venta's the kind of a person to hurt someone even if they are loud, it's just, well, my curse. It tends to make everything worse."

He focused on recalling what they were discussing. Ah yes, her own situation. Now that he could talk rather than write what he wanted to say, their conversation would go much faster. "You were asking about how much the scholars here charge for an examination, right? Well, that depends. Master Liet usually charges a hundred, since he would far prefer to spend time in the library. Arcanist Avalyina is interested in expanding her knowledge about curses, so if it's something she hadn't encountered before, it's free of charge. Curse-Breaker Incanus... well, he breaks curses. But he usually wants to be well-compensated."

Perendi arched an eyebrow and flashed a lopsided grin at Val's comment, though she was relieved that he wasn't bleeding and didn't seem to have dislocated or broken anything. "If you wanted to start violating their codes, I could probably come up with a few others that might be fun to break," The mischievous, slow wink that followed those signs would hopefully reveal that it was all meant in jest. It was interesting though, how his curse could make even the smallest incident become twisted into something that could have potentially been dangerous. "As long as you're sure you're okay, that's what matters. I didn't think so, she looked too gentle to really be interested in hurting anyone," She finished signing.

Tilting her head in thought, an eyebrow arched as an unusual idea crossed her mind. So, Val's curse caused everything to turn to shit? She began to sign just as quickly as the idea flitted through her head; the fluidity and swiftness of her motions might have been difficult to follow along with, but hopefully the meaning behind what she was trying to convey wouldn't have been lost: "Since your curse fucks things up, have you ever thought about maybe seeing if you could intentionally mess something up, just to see what would happen? I mean, what would happen if you did something like deliberately throwing a game of cards or dice?" She didn't know if the acamdemy had a policy against its students gambling or anything of the sort, but maybe he'd understand what she was getting at.

The ash-colored woman's curse, thankfully, didn't amplify any injuries she might have sustained, or what anyone else bore. If it had, that would have certainly spelled disaster for her instantly, if such a misfortune wouldn't have forced her into early retirement. "Mine isn't half as interesting as yours. If I talk, it makes me choke and bleed. It makes me feel what everyone around me does- and it pisses people off if I'm with them for too long," She would sign as way of explanation. It would have been impossible to explain more than just the basics she laid out; the silent sigh and shrug probably revealed a bored resignment with her situation. "Yours seems a lot more interesting and dangerous, almost chaotic, to me." That probably wasn't helpful in any way.

When he explained the scholars' prices, her curiosity returned tenfold, her signing becoming quickened again, "You've got a curse breaker here? Have you tried using his services before, or is the compensation an issue?" She would have been willing to visit any of the three; she likely had the extra funds available to pay for the former pair's fees easily- and was willing to try and negotiate with the curse breaker, maybe even offer her own services in exchange for his attempts; but she was more curious at the moment to see if her companion had even tried yet.

 He nodded, excitement showing on his face. "Arcanist Avalyina actually came up with an idea to check for that. My intention doesn't seem to factor into it, so I suppose I could still mess up on purpose without my curse sabotaging it. Though I don't know most games that are popular here in Serendipity, and I think my situation is well known enough that people wouldn't play with me anyway."

"I suppose what our curses have most in common is the factor of alienating people" he commented. Fortunately, it looked like it was more of a long-term, insidious, slowly-working element than the instant corruption of every relationship - at least it gave them something of a chance. Perhaps it was partly why his family and the court mage decided to send him to Wyrdwood. He didn't mind - the last thing he wanted was to waste time on self-pity. It wasn't their fault, it was what was best for him, and he was glad to be here.

He smiled at the memory of his encounter with the Curse Breaker. "Well, he needs more information to work. That's what he said - to break a curse one has to know why was it cast, how, by whom... All those things that are yet to be discovered in my case. He said to come back when I can answer those questions - I think I might have hurt his pride by presenting a case he couldn't immediately crack. But you said you know the circumstances of your curse, so I think he could be of more use to you. Although right now he's not here, I think. He left the academy last week to go and lift a curse on some noble family in the capital city. I can ask one of his apprentices who remained behind."

He just remembered something, so he went ahead and just asked. "Do you know if this... relationship corruption works only if you're around? As in, if you were to meet with someone you knew from some time ago, but had no contact in between, would the curse still have worked all this time, or would you have to be present for it to ruin their perception of you?"

She grinned at his excitement, which seemed to be quite contageous; "It sounds like Avalynia might be on to somehing, then! That's a damn good thing, at least- it shouldn't be too hard to intentionally screw somehing up, should it? I'm not sure about the Serenian games, but in most taverns, games like poker, Liars' Dice and even darts are pretty popular- none of them are difficult at all, if the Arcanist wanted to go that route with you, you'd probably be able to figure them out in an hour or so. Hmm... you know, that's a good point; though if you've got coin to wager, even just a few copper, peoples' minds might be willing to change." She was, of course, signing out of experience with how people behaved in taverns- money made people forget things, including fears and grudges, when they were drunk and cocky enough. But then again, whether any of the professors would accompany Val to a tavern and play with drunken assholes or not was something she wasn't sure about at all.

"It sure as hell seems that way, doesn't it?" She signed back with a careless shrug. As far as she could tell, it was like a slow-working venom; it usually took a few hours before it sunk its fangs into her company and slowly altered their perception of her; usually it started within a few hours, but in two or three instances before, it had taken a few days to have shown any real impact on the people she'd been near; but once it started, it didn't seem to relent as long as she was around. Thankfully, it meant the pair would at least have a small opportunity before things would start going downhill yet. Perendi wasn't the sort to give it too much thought: she just accepted the circumstaces to the best of her ability and went with it. Feeling sorry for herself was useless and pointless; the time that would have been wasted moping and falling into self-doubt was better spent working, playing, or learning something.

"I'd appreciate it. For your help, maybe I could do something in turn," She suggested when he mentioned the curse breaker probably being able to help her whenever her eturned from the capital city. She wouldn't consider it to be paying back a debt or anything of the sort, just returning a favor with a favor. "Help you try to gather information, possibly deal with an enemy of yours or your family's, sneak you and your friends some of the good shit after-hours?" They probably weren't the best suggestions, but she wasn't the sort that would normally refrain from offering some sort of assistance when someone was willing to do the same.

A peculiar stillness would fall as she reached up and scratched her head; forehead furrowed at his question as she pondered the answer- it wasn't exactly the simplest inquiry to formulate a response to, all things considered. Quite eloquently, the answer began with a meaningless little gesture that would have been the equivalent of a "hmm." "I've got a couple of repeat clients that come to me every few months, but they're only near me long enough to explain the nature of the newest job," Her subordinates didn't count; even though she preferred to work alone when she could and they oftentimes were sent on their own missions, she didn't think a few days' or the occasional week's worth of separation was enough to really tell. "I don't get involved in other peoples' lives enough to know one way or another." At least she was being honest.

"I wouldn't know if I have any associates from a while back, anyway... one of the many things it does is it slowly eats my memories. Just think, it was only meant to be a precaution," If anything, she simply accepted the fact that in time, she'd end up forgetting everything she'd ever known; but with as slow-acting as the memory eradication was, it would take a considerable amount of time, years at least,  before that point was reached.

 Val smiled at Perendi's comments. The Arcanist would be pleased to hear this - perhaps he should tell her. There was no such things as too much niceness, especially in the highly competitive and cutthroat environment of Wyrdwood. The position of an Arcanist wasn't exactly high, and Avalyina struggled enough by not being as useful as Incanus or as well-read as Liet - then again, it was hard to compete with an old elf who had over several hundreds of years to study.

He listened, curiosity clear in his expression, as Perendi signed to him about all the various games. He didn't even hear about most of them! He was tempted to ask her to teach him some, but he wasn't sure if it wouldn't be a breach of etiquette. That one time he was caught playing cards with the guards, the royal family tutor gave him quite a lecture about how it was unbecoming of a prince to engage in gambling. He was no longer on Astanill, but he still felt that he should uphold some standards.

He couldn't help but be surprised at her offer, and it probably showed on his face and in his body language. "I- thank you for the offer, but I fear I can't think of anything. I don't think that my family has any enemies here in Serendipity, and I'd rather not risk breaking the academy rules. But I appreciate the thought." He really did. It wasn't often that someone was willing to do something for him, with no strings attached.

It probably made the situation awkward, though, so he was glad to quickly turn his attention to the details of her situation. "So not only does your curse ruin relationships, but also affects memories? That's awful!" The way she described it, it sounded like whoever cursed her was trying to destroy any way she could find her place in the world, with making people hate her, ruining her memory and making it impossible to speak. He couldn't figure out how enhanced empathy fit into this, though.

"I was asking because I had an idea" he explained. "I don't know how long do you plan on staying in the area, and can't tell when will the Curse Breaker return. If you were going to leave, I could acquire something to contact you magically so that you'd know when he's back here." He needed to know because if her curse were to intervene and ruin everything, he might not be in a position to provide the information. He'd like to say that he wouldn't let a curse make him dislike a person who's done nothing to deserve it, but he knew better than to make light of such power.

Her line of employment could oftentimes be quite competitive, especially when two different groups were assigned the same job; or because of the way that time was always changing, a former ally became an adversary and vice versa. Therefore, it was usually a better idea to offer kindness to an individual or establishment that one sought to have as a contact- and one could never have too many allies, on the off chance that circumstances shifted while in the middle of a job. She wouldn't have protested the idea of Val telling Avalyina about their discussions- as unfounded as her ideas were, if they proved to be helpful at all, that was a step in the right direction, if nothing else; or so that was her opinion.

She grinned at his clear curiosity about the games that she explained- perhaps it was for the best that she refrained from detailing that in certain circumstances, clothing could even be used as a wager, instead of money. She wasn't sure how uncouth it would have been to offer, but she did anyway: "If you want, I can teach you a few different games. Dice and poker are the easiest to learn, we'd need to go to a tavern if you wanted to play darts." It was impossible to see the harm in offering; such games could be a fun way to pass the time- and if nothing else, the idea of some noble who might enjoy getting drunk and playing with the common population was rather entertaining. Hell, even if he was just some duke's son, she figured it might make people favor him a bit more. Then again, that was simply because she and her entourage would typically spend their time off drinking and gambling, if they weren't collectively sleeping.

When he declined her offer, she simply shrugged; it was strange to meet someone that probably didn't have need for a hired blade's assistance at one point or the other. There may have been a bit of awkward silence that fell at that point, though it seemed he was a skilled enough conversationalist to keep the silence from becoming too heavy.

"It destroys memories, ruins relationships, keeps my gods-damned mouth shut- and makes it where I don't know what in fuck's sake I'm going to do at times. Being forced to feel what other people does makes it where, depending on what exactly you're feeling, I might try to bash your head in, just because you've had a bad day; or I could throw down my weapons, piss myself, scream and run away in the middle of a fight- I can't control what happens, or when. The best part is: it's only because of a job I took a long time ago: I know too much about two shitty noble families and could destroy them both." A shrug punctuated those gestures; a crooked smile offered at his exclamation, she'd come to terms with what was happening a while back- and while the predicted outcome would be unpleasant when it happened, she'd decided to live with whatever occured.

"That's not a bad idea at all," She admitted after mulling over his proposed suggestion; "We'll be in Serendipity for roughly a week- but even then, you probably won't be able to find our camp, unless you run into someone who knows of us. All I can think is we can try- and see what happens. If you contact me just to bitch, or end up not bothering at all, I'll probably know why." It wasn't likely the answer that he was looking for, but it was the best she could offer. She didn't know if her curse would intervene with someone else who was afflicted, might be amplified because of his curse or not, it was sort of surprising how long they'd managed to get along so far. Though she would have liked to think that there was the possibility that nothing might happen because of his being afflicted, she wasn't stupid enough to give that thought more than a few seconds' consideration before writing it off as being impossible.

 The more he heard about her curse, the worse it seemed - even worse than his own. And for what? For the sake of petty political squabbling? She was cursed by nobles who were willing to hire her but unwilling to accept her knowing as a part of the consequences? Perhaps it was hypocritical of him to think so, considering that he was also of high birth, but he found the behaviour of those noble families reprehensible.

He remembered the silent conversation they had back in the study hall. The mercenary expressed surprise at why would a wizard go out of their way to curse someone they could easily toast with a simple spell instead. No wonder she held their actions in such contempt when she fell victim to such underhanded tactics. She looked capable enough to be able to survive a direct confrontation or even an assassination attempt, but curses were harder to fight.

He was glad to hear that she was up for at least trying his idea out. Now all that remained was to find a good communicator. Since she couldn't speak, any sort of voice conveying enchantment wouldn't work - perhaps a pair of conjoined quills? But the life of a mercenary was fraught with strife, and such magical implements were easily breakable. He worried at the hem of his shirt, lost in thought. "Hm... Do you have any experience with such magical methods of long-distance communication?"

As strange as it might have been, over the years, Perendi had learned how to accept and live with her curse; she was probably living on stolen time and no one she'd encountered had been able to tell her just how long it might have been before she succumbed and became a living shadow. The best she'd ever heard in the past had been "you've got as long as you want," which had been a very cryptic and frustrating way to phrase "I don't know"- but it was a better answer than some might have been. It had been over nothing more than a long and bitter political squabble between the Tabarants and the Carnazzas that she'd been sent to solve. It had cumulated in the discovery that Asentzio Carnazza and his family had been involved in massive scandal: bribery, extortion, the Carnazzas' political opposition "mysteriously" vanishing and participation in the slave trade.

Matron Folcrada Tabarant and her family had been absolutely no better; what with the "good woman" herself dabbling in the manufacture and peddling of poisons and operating a brothel in secrecy. Though the Tabarant family had been taken down, with Matron Folcrada and her daughters rotting away in a dungeon somewhere, Carnazza had believed the knowledge the mercenary had acquired would have been too great a risk for her to escape with and be able to spread. The aftermath would have been quite ruinous for the Carnazzas.

It had certainly been reprehensible on Lord Carnazza's behalf to curse the woman he'd hired, but in his mind, he'd done exactly what he'd needed to do in order to protect his name, reputation and family. While Perendi appreciated and could not understand the basis of magic, she held very little respect for anyone who would use such sneaky and underhanded tactics. An assault, verbal confrontation, or even assassination attempts would have been a justifiable way to warn her to keep her mouth shut; a warning that she would have been able to understand on no uncertain terms. As far as she knew, she wasn't of noble birth (though she couldn't remember anything about her family, the Kestras) so she didn't think her curse would impact them in any way, if they were still alive. She didn't even know if her curse was one of the blood, one that could be genetically passed on to whatever hellspawn she (didn't) plan on ever producing. Other than it making life quite difficult at times and making sure she'd never be able to spread the information she'd accrued, Perendi had no idea what other purpose it served for that damned warlock.

Regardless, an enemy she could have potentially seen would have been one she could have fought; this adversary was one she had no idea how to handle.

She was willing to at least try anything; even if it might have been rather difficult to find a decent medium for communications. Even though she was incapable of speech, if they used a voice conveying apparatus, she could have listened- as potentially useless as that might have been. Enchanted quills could have been a possibility, if they weren't broken or lost when she was on a job. She stretched and tilted her head, cracking her knuckles as she tried to mill over what might have been a suitable means for communication- only to come up with nothing that might have been viable. "Celosia Parezi --she's a mage in my company-- just casts a communications spell of some sort when we're separated for long periods of time. I can hear what she has to say that way, but that's all," She signed at last. It might not have been the least bit helpful and with her lack of knowledge in the realm of magic, she didn't know if there was a means to create some form of mechanical or forced telepathy, or anything of that ilk.

 Val carefully observed the movements of Perendi's hands. He was just a beginner student, he only started learning about magic, and wanted to make sure that he didn't misunderstand her somehow. So the mage in her mercenary group could communicate, but since the warrior couldn't speak, she couldn't talk back. The spell must have conducted sound, rather than thought. "Perhaps we should search for something that could induce telepathy" he suggested. "Or something to write with."

He hurried to explain his idea further. "Maybe we could find someone to enchant a pair of books so that whatever's written in one, would appear in other. Would that work?"

The last question was a bit more open-ended. While Val would probably stay in Wyrdwood in the future, and could easily find time every day to sit down and write in a book, the life of a mercenary was more active and didn't always lend itself well to moments of peace. Not to mention that such a book could quickly get lost or destroyed. And of course, he didn't want to assume that everyone he met could read and write.

Perendi arched an eyebrow and smirked at Val's scrutiny. She wasn't accustomed to someone making sure they didn't misunderstand what she was trying to say; at least not to the extent that he was trying not to. With Parezi's spell, the mage was able to relay whatever she needed to explain, or to make sure that her leader hadn't encountered something too dangerous that she might need assistance with. The warrior was able to respond with acknowledging or negating sounds, but never words- and in a way, she sort of wondered if Parezi was even bothering to try and figure out a way to induce telepathy as she'd promised. Hell, the ashen warrior wasn't even sure if such a thing was possible- or if, on top of the other woman's duties, she just didn't have the time to try.

"I actually like the idea of finding something that could force telepathy," She signed with a grin; something of that nature would definitely make communicating far easier between herself and Val-- and if it was something that could be replicated, she'd even be willing to pay out of her funds to have the device replicated so she could communicate with her company as well. Though the idea of something to write with could be just as helpful, "A pair of books could work quite well, too. I can read and write in a few different languages, so even if we needed to communicate in secrecy, that would be great." Her expression was rather enthusiastic in regard to both prospects.

There were only a couple of issues that she could see arising from trying to write to her new companion on a regular basis, or even read what he had to say with any real frequency. That was the simple fact that she was rarely in one place for very long- which, unless she kept her book on her at all times, meant it could have been lost at any time. While she did enjoy reading and always had, she was lucky if she could indulge often enough that she didn't end up keeping Val waiting for long periods of time. Then there was always the possibility that if anything went wrong, an enemy would be able to retrieve her book and destroy it quite easily, especially on the off chance that she might have ended up captured at one point or another, or imprisoned.

"I think your first idea would probably be the best, especially if we could find something that could be worn, without attracting too much attention. You know, like maybe a dog's collar, some kind of trinket, something that wouldn't exactly be easily lost or stolen."

 Looked like they had a plan. Of course, it was just half of the work - now they had to find a way to carry it out. And Val had no idea how to get to it. He was still new to Wyrdwood, and didn't know which professors or students were capable of telepathy, let alone skilled enough for what they needed. And could he even convince anyone to help them? He didn't have anything he could offer, and he didn't want to make the mercenary pay for it, considering that it was his idea to begin with.

As far as he was concerned, Wyrdwood needed some orientation for new students.

He raised a hand, but quickly caught himself and lowered it. His tutor disapproved of his habit of playing with his hair - she kept saying that having a tell is a death sentence for gamblers and nobility. She worked hard to get him to stop, and he only began appreciating it now that his curse made his entire body more brittle. He would have to be more careful with his movements and gestures.

"I suppose we should start searching in the Mind Magic Faculty" he suggested. It would be convenient if Wyrdwood had a Communication Faculty, but the fellows preferred to categorize magic by its nature, rather than its use.

The best-laid plans or strategies usually required an extraordinary amount of legwork to be put into motion. A motion that Perendi wasn't sure how to begin; she was unversed in the ways of magic and other than the rather rare occasions during which Wyrmwood had need of her services, she wasn't a frequent visitor. While she hoped Val might have had some idea how to begin since the idea had been his in the first place, she didn't know if he was more knowledgable than she was in that regard or not. The ashen woman was willing to pay if need be, but knowing who to pay would have been helpful.

She thought mages needed to be less cryptic, especially when they operated a learning institution. As far as she'd seen, magic-users were evasive enough as it was- it only made things more confusing to see that not all the doors seemed to be marked with at least a department name. Then again, there was the possibility that the unmarked doors were that way to test the students' memories?

An eyebrow was arched at Val's correcting whatever gesture he'd begun; even as her own hand strayed toward the hilt of her baselard. It wasn't a threatening motion; her fingertips just brushing against the hilt while making no motion to grasp it- it was a motion that could have been likened to someone stroking a cat, or perhaps their chin; nothing more than a contemplative gesture.

"That sounds as good a place as any to start, I think- I'd probably just go into the first room that had someone in it; might get us turned into... oh, quails, or some shit like that." She signed, smiling. Though it might have seemed humorous, she would likely have done just that; hoping to find the right department, but more than likely interrupting someone's class. As long as Val didn't suggest something too strange-sounding, she'd let him be the guide. At least she didn't think he'd intentionally lead her into a practice hall with the students practicing something along the lines of transformation spells- which in the back of her mind, she had to admit, might have ended up quite humorously regardless.

 Val chuckled. "I don't think going into the first room would get anyone turned into a quail - unless they moved one of the transformation classrooms to here." He quickly realised how condescending his tone must have sounded and quickly offered an apology. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to lord it over you. I'm just relatively new to this place, so I was rather happy to have just that little information."

That was getting awkward. Most of the conversations he participated in did, and he couldn't even tell if he was making stupid mistakes, or if his curse was making everything worse. Perhaps he should assume the former - it would be lazy to blame all he could on the curse and refuse any responsibility for his actions.

"This way" he began, pointing to a nearby hallway. "We can't take the main door - some pranksters turned it into a portal to... a place we don't want to visit. We can-"

The classroom door they were passing by suddenly swung open, releasing a torrent of students and hitting Val in the face. He staggered back, pain exploding in his bones. He barely managed to arrest his fall with one arm - and he should probably consider himself lucky not to break it as well. He brought the other hand up, checking for blood on his face. He must have-

"Uh, should we help him?" some voice suggested, probably one of the students.

"Not a good idea, Redshield" another countered. Val tried to raise his head to see if those were people he knew, but he felt dizzy and probably shouldn't risk sharp movements. "It's the curse kid. If you approach him, your stuff will break."

"That's not how curses work!" an annoyed voice cut through the chatter. "For Kia's sake, would it kill you all to learn the basics?"

"Why don't you curse us to die unless we learn?" Redshield challenged. "At least something interesting would happen."

The dizziness wasn't going away. He tried to get up, but his fingers were slicked with blood and he fell again.

Perendi arched an eyebrow at how condescending Val sounded, snorting and shaking her head. It seemed like even he was capable of talking down to those less knowledgable in the realm of the arcane; though she couldn't exactly blame him too much- what was the harm in showing off one's knowledge every now and again, as long as it wasn't done out of blatant arrogance? "It's alright, you haven't done anything wrong. I don't exactly know shit about magic anyway- you know far more about it and this place than I do." She signed, shrugging off-handedly. He clearly hadn't intended to come across as an ass, or he wouldn't have been so quick to offer an apology that was not only unnecessary, but sounded rather sincere.

"At least you can find your way around here," She offered; things were indeed becoming just a bit on the awkward side- and it was difficult to tell what the source was; not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things. "Okay. What dumb ass decided to change the main door, though?" That definitely wasn't any of her concern, but curiosity was a pain to contend with in the best of times. When the torrent of students were released from the confines of their classroom like a pack of small and very yappy dogs into the hall, the mercenary had been prepared to simply try and navigate past them- but their release was the catalyst for all hell breaking loose.

Watching those students slam into Val and send him crashing to the ground, then watching him fall again after attempting to rise once more caused a growl of irritation and concern to rise in her throat. Pivoting on her heels and forcing her way through the ebb and flow of impatient young mages, she would finally come to a stop beside Val, Shit! Was her only thought upon seeing his bloody face; if he permitted her to do so, she would try to slide an arm around his shoulders and ease him into a seated position, against the wall. "Are you okay?" She would demand, her voice a low, commanding, gravely alto growl; a quick, indrawn gasp punctuating those words.

It was impossible to stand and wait for an answer- she'd have to check back once everyone else had left the immediate vicinity.

A headache was quickly building; an irritating, pulsing throb that originated from the back of her head, causing her to clench her teeth and  breathe through flared nostrils. Her eye narrowed into a cold, hard, cruelly-glittering slit as her chin rose; waves of confusion, annoyance and contempt crashed over the soldier of misfortune; forcing her to grit her teeth, hands curling into fists of their own volition. A white-hot, roiling fury ignited in the pit of her stomach and quickly radiated outward, breath coming in harsh pants that probably sounded as close to a warning hiss that a human throat could muster, lip curling into a vicious sneer- a coiled serpent flashing its fangs.

"Bastards!" Was the only snarled warning the "demon" gave; charging headlong into the milling crowd. One of the younger students was grabbed by the front of her robe and slammed backward into the nearest wall; the back of her head colliding against the wall with a resounding thud as she slumped and collapsed like nothing more than a discarded doll. The ash-hued warrior's elbow caught an older boy in the face; busting his nose with an extremely pleasing crack, sending the poor fool to his knees, sobbing. A booted foot shot out, catching another student across the stomach and sending him careening breathlessly into one of his companions, causing the pair to stumble and trip over their own feet.

Every blow that the screaming, panicking students tried to throw as they attempted to make a hasty retreat caused the mercenary to succumb even more to the venomous fangs of true, all-consuming rage. Any last vestige of humanity was cast aside; relinquished with a savage glee- Perendi was nothing more than a vicious, rabid dog; a machine of destruction hell-bent on painting Wyrmwood's hall in brilliant scarlet. The students' pain and terror only added fuel to her insatiable malice- they were her prey. A young woman's face was driven brutally into the ground, her arm wrenched behind her back, twisted and yanked until the bones cracked and snapped. A low, gutteral sound rose from he back of the rampaging, monstrous woman's throat as she dropped yet another student with a kick to the groin, moving in to bear down on his throat with her knee; not relenting until he ceased struggling and moving beneath her.

Lurching to her feet, she drew her war-hammer in a swift, fluid motion; holding it in a tight, two-handed grip as she began to swing that weapon with a wild abandon; the end of the shaft scraping noisily along the floor and walls every time she hefted it and swung its head at one of the students who just happened to be a little too close.

 Val accepted her help with a quick, probably mangled word of thanks. "I think I just broke my nose" he muttered. It was better than he expected - although, knowing his curse, there was always the delightful possibility of a sudden infection rotting off half of his face. He would probably get used to it, unless someone came up with a solution quicker than he expected.

He carefully looked up, trying to see if more students were coming out - if all classes were about to end, the hallway would be flooded with people and he should really get up and leave in order not to be trampled or be sued for obstructing the passage by some nitpicky student. His gaze fell on Perendi- oh no. She was cursed with enhanced empathy, being around so many frustrated adepts couldn't possible be good for her!

"Get out!" he called to the other students, fear spiking through his mind. It wasn't just out of concern for Perendi, but also for them - she was a seasoned warrior, and the whole incident in Arcanist Ivis' laboratory was proof enough that emotional highs could send her into a destructive rage. The last thing he wanted was to cause more bloodshed!

The elf rolled her eyes derisively. "Are you telling me what to do? Like hell I'm going to-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence as the warrior grabbed her and threw away without even giving her the time to scream. A sickened crack echoed in the hallway as Val stared, horrified. The other students began to scramble away, but they weren't fast enough to escape her rampage. "Stop-" he croaked, before realizing he probably wouldn't be able to get through to her.

He scrambled to his feet, miraculously not getting knocked down by the fleeing students. It was a good thing, if they left before anyone was hurt, the emotional stimulus would disappear - he didn't know the range of the cursed empathy, but it had to have a limit - otherwise bringing her to the study hall wouldn't have worked.

He wasn't so arrogant as to think that he might avoid rampage, but he doubted that his curse would let him escape anyway. He focused on calming down - he didn't want to worsen the situation even more. He heard footsteps coming from the hallway and immediately turned there, a warning on his lips - the last thing they needed was more people to aggravate her further!

Oh no. Those weren't students.

Smothered by a blanket of emotions so interwoven and complicated that they may as well have been a spider's web, she hadn't heard Val's claim that he should have been alright, for the most part. Nor did she hear his instance that the other adepts get out of the hall; soaring on the hellish wings of confusion-tinged fear, contemptuous annoyance, frustration and that all-consuming indignant fury should have been enough to sustain the rage that continued to flow through her like a cool breeze on a summer's day. Only compounding the situation even more was the simple fact that she'd been elevated to experience the euphoric, pleasure-dripping rush that drove berzerkers and hunting hounds into the same narrow-minded pursuit of bloodshed; conscious thought had all but ceased, leaving nothing but a bloodthirsty beast hell-bent on causing as much carnage and destruction as she possibly could.

Val's words and the cries of the other adepts fell on deaf ears; all she was focused on was the music of the screams, her own low, raspy laughter cutting like a knife through the profanities and wailing. One unlucky upperclassman tried to throw a punch at her jaw in an attempt to stop her; though he did manage to cause her head to snap to the side and a bruise to quickly blossom in the wake of his fist, he received a swift forehead-to-forehead headbutt, followed up with the head of her war-hammer rammed into his stomach, lifting him off his feet and tossing him a few feet to the right. That weapon was lifted above her head and brought swiftly downward to be swung in a wide arc that sent three youngsters stumbling and running down the hall; while their fourth received a blow to the hip that caused the poor young woman to collapse with a scream.


As the crowd began to thin, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye; Val climbing to his feet in the wake of her rampage- as he remained quiet, he was ignored for the moment; in favor of her grabbing a tall, willowy, blue-skinned youngster by his long, violet braid and pitching him headlong into one of the doors. If the remainder of the students managed to escape quickly, once they'd made it a few hundred yards from her immediate vicinity, Perendi would have been unleashed from her fury; though at that moment, it seemed as though her rage would be unending.

Once she had determined that most of her prey had either fallen or were running to hide -and she would find them in time- she rounded on poor Val once more; hefting her war-hammer and thumping its head into the palm of her hand almost rhythmically. A tilt of her head, an arch of an eyebrow and a slight falter to that bloodthirsty smile revealed that she couldn't determine if he was friend or foe. However, unwilling to risk the chance of finding out that he was either enemy or prey, she lowered her war-hammer and reversed her grip so that she could attempt to ram the end of the shaft into his stomach, while simultaneously trying to thrust a booted foot between his ankles, a maneuver intended to quickly take him to the ground.

The sound of footsteps approaching only made her bloodthirsty grin grow wider.

One foot slid behind the other, Perendi's weight redistributed so she could lunge into motion when the new challenge arrived; a snarling, albeit poised beast preparing an ambush.

 The first person to make it to the hallway was either a staff member, or someone old enough to qualify as an eternal student. She took one look at the scene and threw something small on the ground. Cracking it opened a portal for a massive creature of stone to step inside. Wyrdwood used gargoyles for security purposes - rock constructs enchanted to stop the fighting and eject offenders from the academy.

As soon as the third gargoyle made it through the portal, the woman noticed the advancing mercenary and leapt through to the other side, almost colliding with the fourth. As dire as the situation was, Val found it to be an actual improvement. Gargoyles were magical constructs, they didn't have any emotions to send her further into rage - and since the students who unwittingly started this catastrophe were evacuating, they should get out of range soon.

While the two gargoyles advanced on her, the third registered the presence of one unevacuated student in the area of danger and approached the boy, its heavy footsteps crunching against the stone floor. Val didn't know if it could even hear his voice, but that was a stupid doubt to wager against possibly worsening the situation. "Don't-" he croaked. "I don't know if it's safe to approach-"

There was his answer - the gargoyle approached without even giving a sign that it heard him. It reached out with a massive stone arm. Val rolled away, barely avoiding it as the stone suddenly crumbled and fell to the floor. They better not fine him for breaking it - he didn't even touch it!

As the students quickly evacuated the hall, the vicious gleam was slowly leaving the mercenary's eye; her posture becoming less aggressive and more tired as she surveyed the carnage, still not quite comprehending what she was seeing- it would take a few minutes yet for the heavy fog to leave her mind. When the first gargoyle approached from straight ahead, she would heft her hammer and swing it at the stone construct's head; attempting to hold it at bay as she blinked as though beginning to awaken from an exceptionally pleasant dream.

All that remained of her mindless rage was a migraine and perplexed irritation; as though she had drank herself into a stupor the previous night and was reeling from one hell of a hangover.

Stepping backward, her movements a bit clumsy and sluggish as she swung her hammer a second time, trying to shatter the face of the gargoyle that she could see and expecting to meet nothing more than the stone wall at her back, she had been completely unaware of the construct she was backing into; it made no sound as it moved, didn't smell like anything in particular and radiated no emotion or intent for her to pick up on.

Perhaps if she hadn't been attempting to destroy the gargoyle in front of her, hadn't been battling with the dizziness that came on the wake of such an intense emotional assault, she would have been able to twist out of the way.

"Ah, shit!" Came the panted, disbelieving yelp as a pair of massive stone arms closed around her from behind, lifting the still-struggling snake off her feet and carrying her toward that yawning portal. "Don't you fucking do it!" She bellowed at the unlistening automaton, only managing to glance briefly in Val's direction long enough to watch his gargoyle crumble to dust, "Run!" She yelled at him, completely unaware of the gargoyles' purposes- moments before her own captor took her into that awaiting portal.

Distrustful of most magic and completely uncertain about what their destination might have been, all she could do was hope that they weren't plunging into an abyss or somewhere equally hot, foul and shitty; growing tense again and trying to steel herself (probably quite pointlessly) for yet another fight.


((Sorry for the uncharacteristically short post! I broke my damned elbow a few days ago (it's just a stupid little crack; not a major break)  and I'm still adjusting to typing with one hand mostly immobilized.))

 The portal opened a few miles away from the castle, in the place randomly chosen in order to prevent anyone from predicting the arcane algorithm. The gargoyle pushed through, releasing Perendi immediately. It wasn't enchanted to kill just anyone who disturbed the peace of the academy, just to eject the offenders - it didn't register any lethal damage on the victims, and the mercenary wasn't flagged as repeat attacker and therefore available for harsher actions. The procedure of contain and remove was put into action.

Immediately after letting her go, the gargoyle turned around, propelling itself slightly with the heavy wings now that it wasn't in a hallway too narrow for it to spread them. Without any delay, it entered the portal again, returning to the academy. The arcane doorway closed almost as soon as the last piece was through.

Thankfully, she found that she was not pulled apart, transformed into some horrific beast, or teleported into the underworld when the portal opened again. In fact, the mercenary was deposited once again in the verdant, rolling hills of the highlands; judging by the positioning of the sun, it was well into the afternoon. There had been no way that she could have hoped to figure out the arcane algorithm as she dropped to her knees and looked around, rubbing at her eye in confusion. Returning to the academy again would not exactly be easy-- the portal closed again as soon as the gargoyle had retreated back into it.

Son of a whore! She thought in irritation; they'd been close to figuring something out-- and she wasn't even certain about what had happened before she'd come under attack by the gargoyles-- if they had actually attacked in the first place; there were certain details that she couldn't remember at the moment, not that such information really mattered, given that she'd been ejected from the portal in the middle of nowhere. Which did not exactly put her in the best of moods to begin with.  All things considered, the situation could have been far worse, though; she could have been thrown directly into a jail cell or dungeon somewhere, after all.

Trying to find her way back to the academy wouldn't have been too difficult, she didn't think; it wouldn't have been difficult to locate a rather massive castle. However, as she hadn't visited Wyrmwood all that often, she didn't know if it would be a wise decision or not, since she wasn't aware of whether or not there were other ways in, save for through the main door-- or if there was even a reason to return, for the time being.

For now, the best course of action would be to locate one of the many little villages and hope that it was home to something that at least remotely resembled a pub. Perendi was in need of a drink or five after what had already gone on- and would not have been opposed at all to a few games of cards or dice; might even pick up a job or two in the meantime.