So a Necromancer and a Kelpie Walk Into a Clearing... [Inv. "The Night Mare"]

[Squeeman]

The Magnificent and Mystical Emperor Moebius, First of His Name mumbled and muttered to himself as he shuffled his way through dense undergrowth, fallen leaves, and fallen branches from the canopy of the trees above. He was not in a particularly good mood, as he was rather lost and the scenery around him did not agree with his disposition. It was far too... lively. The shafts of sunlight filtering through the leaves were far too bright, the flowers were too colorful, the bird song was too cheerful, and the air smelled far too sweet! There was nothing of death or rot in this strange, serene little spot of nature. Which just seemed, in some ways, unnatural to the budding necromancer.

And then, suddenly, he smelled it. The stench of stagnant water and slime and decay. It was faint, disguised by perfume and spices and the smells of civilized nobility, but it was there. Moebius turned from the arbitrary direction he was shuffling to make his way towards the smell, dragging leaves and dirt and branches in his wake via the hem of his robe.

A short time later, Moebius was shoving aside a branch with his staff, an old shepherd's crook, and shuffling into a disgustingly pristine meadow. There, he saw her. A woman, with pale skin, though not so pale as his own, with black hair and painted lips. She was wearing fine, glittering silks that would not have looked out of place on a member of royalty, and yet they were cut in a strange way to expose much of her skin. Yes, she was the source of the smell, somehow. And once he saw her, Moebius heard the mutterings of many frightened, dead... they were all gurgling or burbling for some reason, like they were drowning.

"You!"

Moebius pointed a long, crooked finger at the woman.

"Are you the one that smells of death and decay, and also strange magic? The smell of a brackish swamp or..."

Moebius tilted his face, masked by a carved piece of painted wood meant to look like a skull, upwards and sniffed.

"No, an old lake full of mud and fish and corpses! I smell it, so I do! And I hear the drowning dead screaming around you!"

[DragonSong]

Lady Capalla had been seeking solitude. It seemed she was not destined to find it.

She turned her head fractionally toward the sound of branches moving, foliage trampled underfoot, but she didn't bother giving it her full attention until the...person, she supposed, that was the source of the sound entered the clearing.

She turned slowly, languidly to watch as he approached, and merely raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow as he began accusing her of the scent of death.

"...And who, precisely, are you?" she asked after a long, considering moment, seemingly ignoring his accusations.

[Squeeman]

Moebius shifted a bit on his feet, shuffling just a bit further into the clearing. As he did, he tamped and thumped his staff upon the dirt, leaning heavily upon it as he shuffled forward. Then, he turned his red eyes back towards the strange woman, trying to puzzle out just who or what she was. Her eyes were too cool to be some normal person, too alien and old. And yet, she did not have the pointed ears of an elf, nor the short stature of a dwarf or gnome. As he got closer, Moebius listened to the whispers and gurgling of the dead. Yes, they were saying names. Several names. Names...

She had asked him his name.

"YOU may address me as The Magnificent and Mystical Emperor Moebius, First of His Name! For he is I, and I am he! I am a master of the art of necromancy, and a speaker to the dead! And the dead speak to me of secrets of history and science and sorcery!"

While Lady Capella had moved slowly and gracefully, Moebius' own movements as he walked and pointed and gestured were excited and snappy, yet full of their own fluidity. Sometimes, he chopped at the air or tamped the ground with his staff, at others he shot an emaciated arm out much too far for someone of his height. The hunch of his back also raised and lowered a bit as he added some extra emphasis to his booming voice.

"And what, pray tell, is your name strange woman? The dead about you whisper a dozen different titles in as many dizzyingly different dialects!"

[DragonSong]

She simply continued to stare at him, rather nonplussed, though she would be hard pressed to show it. She got to her feet, revealing that she was quite a bit taller than she may have first seemed when simply seated. She brushed at an imaginary speck of dirt on the fabric of her bodice, then looked up at him again, head tilted.

"You may call me Lady Capalla," she decided after a moment. It was the title she used most often these days, she saw no need to keep it from this strange mortal. "And what exactly do you find the dead are saying about me, hm?"

[Squeeman]

Moebius watched, with a stillness that blended rigor mortis and a crouched cat, as Lady Capella rose to her feet. Once she stood and introduced herself, and Moebius watched her in motion, he began to feel something that was not quite fear. It was like... a caution. Clearly this woman was not a commoner who was frightened by necromancers. If she was nobility, she was not scared to be alone, for there was nobody around but her and himself. Well, the dead hung about them, but they did not count. Her voice was strange and musical, but with a haunting sour note hidden inside. And then there was the way in which she moved... too graceful to be human, too effortless to be an elf. Perhaps she was a witch, with her own skills in magic. He would have to be cautious.

"They say many names, as I said. Most are gurgled from lungs full of foul water, in languages I do not speak. One sounds like a set of musical notes like this!"

Moebius's voice, meant for booming and loud singing, warbled and struggled to reach the higher notes outside of his range, for he dared not yodel here.

"I hear a few other names. Eponine, Jette, and the Lady of the Lake, though of which lake I cannot be sure."

Moebius began to move after that, tamping his staff upon the ground at regular intervals, supporting himself as he shuffled around Lady Capella in a wide circle. He never strayed too far from the tree line, but he didn't stop moving either.

"Tell me, what brings you here to this miserably bright place, full of nasty, green life untouched by my hand?"

[DragonSong]

Capalla continued to watch him as he capered about--perhaps not in the most traditional sense, but she thought the word "caper" suited quite well--but did not move, solid as stone.

"You speak so contemptuously of life," she noted, not answering his question. "Tell me: would one exist without the other? Would your spirits speak to you, had they not once walked this mortal earth?"

[Squeeman]

Moebius kept staring at Capella as he shuffled around her, sometimes dipping a bit closer, sometimes going back to the tree-line. As if he was testing something...

"Cow dung and night soil are needed to fertilize the fields, and yet the farmer would not want any in his mouth and would find the smell distasteful..."

His red eyes kept their laser focus on Capella's face and the way she moved, or rather stayed still, even as she watched him.

[DragonSong]

She turned slowly in place, always keeping him in view, but seemingly less concerned with looking directly at him.

A slow, vaguely amused smile curved at her lips. "Do you seek assistance with something, Magnificent and Mystical Emperor Moebius, First of His Name?" she asked mildly when he dipped toward her the fourth time, cocking her head fractionally.

[Squeeman]

"Assistance? From you? No, no..."

Moebius ceased his shuffling. Capella did not let him get a good view of her back, but he was fairly certain the she did have one. She wasn't some empty thing, she had a full form, even if he was certain it was a disguise. The only place that it failed was in those eyes, those dark eyes that stared with intelligence, but no humanity. Like a wild beast had been given the knowledge of civilized society.

"I wish to know who and what you truly are! And since you have avoided answering questions about yourself beyond a name, I doubt you will give me such knowledge."

He began to wonder, how had he even appeared in this little clearing? True, he had been in a valley in the Thunderblacks before he had shown up, but there were no mountains anywhere on the horizon. And the trees were different, shorter and wider. Perhaps he had wandered into the lands of Faerie, somehow.

"Although, the conversation is refreshing! Whatever sort of creature you are, you are a killer and unafraid of the dead, for now. It is good to speak to someone that does not cower and quake in awe of my power, and who is not repulsed by my knowledge and profession."

[DragonSong]

"Who and what I truly am?" Capalla repeated, her smiling never fading. "Oh, but that is expensive knowledge. Are you willing to pay the price?"

She finally allowed him to walk all the way around her, merely turning her head slightly to keep him in sight out of the corner of her eye. It was easier to do in her equine shape, admittedly, but she was rather enjoying herself thus far. The tedium of court had been wearing on her as of late, and this stranger was certainly not a courtier.

"Tell me, necromancer..." She turned to face him again, head tilted fractionally to one side as she studied him. "Just how much are you willing to give for new knowledge in your profession?"

[Squeeman]

Moebius did not answer the woman's first question. Yes, she had to be some sort of immortal creature. Perhaps a demon or similar spirit of the infernal Hells, wearing the skin of a tender maiden that didn't quite fit right. Or perhaps she was a Fae thing, with whims and fancies that made little sense to a mortal mind unless they were mad.

Moebius, who was quite mad, laughed at Capella's second question, and reached into his robes... from there, he pulled forth a book. A little black book bound in the codex fashion, with parchment pages and blood red ink on the cover. To the true-seeing eyes of a fae creature like Lady Capella, the title was evident... A Guide to the Artes Necromantick

Another thing that was evident was the nature of the book itself. It was a thing of magic, but not of the normal sort that filled Le'Raana. Or rather, it was the normal sort, but pulled in and twisted and re-shaped by something that seemed to come from somewhere else. The book was from the world, and it was from another entirely. It had a will of its own, and it did not. It had 200 pages, and it had infinite space upon which to write profane things in blood. This was known, this was all true. The book, the book, the book nudged at Capella with an invisible hand before opening itself to Moebius.

"I have already paid for knowledge, dear Lady of the Lake! HA! I have given my soul and my future as a humble shepherd for what I already have, and I shall gain far more without paying. Unless you offer knowledge that is not contained within my book... In which case, I do wonder what your prices are..."

[DragonSong]

She shrugged carelessly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder in a gesture perhaps reminiscent of a wild horse. "My price depends wholly upon what it is that the buyer wishes from me," she told him blandly. "Knowledge, death, life--all have their cost. I take what those wish to give. Though whether they keep their wish, only time can tell."

[Squeeman]

Moebius saw how Lady Capella shrugged and tossed her hair aside, with a flick of the head and a jolt of a shoulder rather than simply using her fingers. He thought that it was, perhaps, a bit strange and it only cemented his belief that Capella was some wild creature of the woods. One who supposedly knew secrets that might or might not have been helpful to him, and whose prices for those secrets varied.

Moebius turned away from Capella as he pondered and postulated and muttered to himself...

Unfortunately, information was a rare and unique thing, whose usefulness depended upon the person that heard it. All of the knowledge of magic and its workings was useless to someone that lived in a place where there was none to be found. The secret to healthy living was wasted upon the dead. And the peasant denied schooling alongside the dullard would never be in a place to use geometry.

Of course, there was, perhaps, a way to reason things out and even get a free sample in the bargain.

Moebius turned back to Capella and nodded.

"This sounds like an interesting set of goods! However, I do wonder... how do I know that the scraps of knowledge that you choose to share are useful to me? What if some pieces are useless on their own without knowledge that I do not have access to? What if some of the pieces are lies and falsehoods that you were deceived with, and which have become a false knowledge? In short, how can I assure myself of the quality of your goods?"

[DragonSong]

She smiled at him, and her teeth were suddenly needle thing and sharp. "Careful, little necromancer," she murmured. "There are some who might find your implication...insulting."

She caught his eyes, holding them, allowing a hint of her power to rise to the surface, to grab at him and drag him down down down--

She looked away, laughing quietly. "I'll admit, you are...amusing. Very well." she took her skirts delicately in hand and sank onto a nearby rock, smoothing out her dress as though she was lounging on a chaise in a nobles salon, rather than simply sitting out in the wilderness. She found his eyes again, though this time there was no surge of power, nothing reaching to drag him down into the dark, cold depths.

"An answer for an answer. Ask me something, anything, and I will answer your question with absolute truth." She cocked her head. "In turn, I will ask a question of you, and you will answer me with truth." She waved a hand blithely. "I do not offer this as a barter--you will answer me, it is part of the magic. That should ensure that the knowledge I offer is sterling, I believe. But..." Her head tilted the other way.  "Is that a risk you wish to take? A price you are willing to pay?"

[Squeeman]

Moebius did not know by what magic he was made to suffer, but he knew that Capella had unleashed it against him. One moment, he was staring at her from across the clearing. And in the next, her black eyes had expanded and reached for him and dragged him into an ancient, black lake and his next breath caused him to draw in cold water. He was drowning, with the last thing in his mind being sharp teeth and a cruel smile.

Within the blink of an eye, he was back in the clearing, dry as a bone and still holding his book. The only evidence that Moebius had been drowning came when he took in air and hacked up old, brackish water from behind his face mask. This woman, whoever she was, was powerful. More powerful than he himself was, but perhaps also more limited. All of her victims had died by drowning, yet if she had information that Moebius could use, then she had knowledge of other magics and spells and forms of torture. She was not, then, a mortal witch or an immortal one. She was a force of nature. Such things could not be killed or destroyed, not easily and not without repercussions. They could, however, be re-directed, controlled, mastered. If the mage had patience and knowledge.

If she tried that trick again, Moebius had a stone knife, blood, and could hold his breath for the few moments he needed. For the moment, however, he planned to tread carefully. He shuffled to a rock that he had passed a few times, a small boulder that would function well as a perch for his hunched form. He pondered Capella's offer...

The magic pact was a sort he could not escape from, not now and perhaps not ever. And he did not know if he could trust himself with the truth. What if Capella asked about his weaknesses? His errors? Embarrassing childhood secrets that had belonged to Samuel, and which would taint the name of Moebius if they were to ever be connected to him?!

Then again, Moebius knew of no weaknesses that he had, aside from those stemming from mortality. Weaknesses that would, eventually, be fixed. Yes, yes, perhaps it would be worth his time. Worth his few, meager secrets.

"Fine then. I shall pay your price and play your game. All my questions shall be answered truthfully, and all of yours shall be in turn... I shall go first."

He took a moment to ponder his first question, then he turned his red eyes back towards Lady Capella. A test question, one that she had avoided before. If she did not answer, or got out of answering it, he would know not to trust any of her words, nor to offer truth in turn. If she did answer... then he had a dozen questions regarding artifacts of power and names of demons and dead magicians.

"What are you, truly?"

[DragonSong]

She smiled.

"I am death."

It was true, if not all of the truth—and that was all that faerie magic required. She could no more tell a falsehood than she could cease being what she was.

Still, she considered a moment before sighing and elaborating, "My kind go by many names. Perhaps one familiar to you would be capal uisce. Or kelpie."

She leaned back slightly, eyeing him calculatingly. "Why do you seek knowledge from me?"

She had given him truth. Faerie bargains were paid in kind.

[Squeeman]

Moebius glared upon hearing Capella's first answer, then squinted when he heard the second part. So, the magic allowed one to be vague and say much without saying anything, did it? Lady Capella hadn't needed to further name herself or give a true explanation of what kind of creature she was, Moebius could hear the difference in the speech that was forced out of her by the magic and what she chose to offer. One was terse, quick, as if air was being drawn from her lungs. The other was a comfortable, melodious flow that almost sounded like music.

"I know of kelpies, yes. It means I was right not to place a hand upon you, or to poke you with my staff..."

He could feel the magic welling up within him when Lady Capella asked her question. Yes, yes, he would have to say something and it would have to be truth or his throat wouldn't let him release any air from his lungs.

"I seek knowledge from you because knowledge is power, and I seek power! Power to conquer, to rule, and to dominate..."

The book that Moebius had held earlier returned to his hand, pulled from some random pocket of his robe. He clutched it tightly to his chest as he took a turn and asked his next question.

"What places can I, as a mortal being, go to in order to gain more knowledge in the arts of science or sorcery and survive?"

Moebius was learning. He had to be specific, ask without any sort of room for ambiguity. At least if he definitely wanted an answer that was not a riddle without having to rely on Lady Capella's good graces.

[DragonSong]

"What places?" Capalla repeated, arching one perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Many. All this world will teach you of science and sorcery, if you care enough to learn from it." Smiling again, she added, "And you will survive all of it. For a time."

But she knew what he was really asking, and she was intrigued enough to give him a slightly clearer answer. "Knowledge is power, yes. But it is not the only power--and none know of hoarding power like the fell creatures of the Thunderblacks. If you are quick and clever--or perhaps simply amusing--you may seek out the wild cousins of Adela's armies and learn from them. What exactly they will teach you, I cannot say."

She tilted her head one way, then the other, considering another question of her own. It was a risk, to continue the game, but he seemed more interested in learning from her than learning of her, and that she could entertain. For a while.

"Do you kill without cause?"

[Squeeman]

"May darkness swallow up all that is blessed and holy and defecate it out into the deepest of the old pits! I was just in the Thunderblacks! Then I went down a game trail and now I'm here..."

Moebius tamped his staff on the ground a few times out of frustration. Then he saw the effect his tamping had on the soil, leaving a little crater... He began to draw in the dirt with his crook staff, pressing just hard enough to make a line in the dirt and to split the grass. He did this in a circle around his boulder as he answered Lady Capella's question with a sneer that his mask hid, but still leaked into his voice.

"I do not kill 'without cause', no. That would make me less than a beast, for even an animal only kills when it must. Of course, not everyone agrees with my causes. Such as needing a servant or power or blood..."

The circle was complete, the line that he was drawing with his staff met up with the point where he had started. Moebius then looked up to the sky, and planted his staff upon the boulder... he checked the shadow that his crook cast, then looked to the hated sun with a hiss. Once he'd done this, he began to draw a symbol at a seemingly random point within the circle.

He needed a better question. A more specific question...

"There is a book mentioned in my guide. It is titled "The Key to the Gates", and it contains a list of ten-thousand names of demons and rituals that one may perform to summon and bind them. It also lists the powers, knowledge, and spheres of influence of each demon and contains other magics and references to other texts. Where can I find a copy of the book, "The Key to the Gates" that is whole or mostly whole?"

There, that was a good, specific question. She could not wriggle out of this, if she knew the answer...

Moebius pulled forth his book, checked the symbol he had drawn, and then shimmied over to the other side of his circle, where he began to draw another symbol in the dirt with his staff, grunting as he tamped and dug into the dirt...

[DragonSong]

"Oh, do calm yourself," Capalla said with an airy wave of her hand. "This place is flexible. If you wish to return the mountains when you leave, you shall."

She listened to his question, watching as he drew his symbols with some mild curiosity. Hmmm. Best to keep an eye on that--she might not want to be here as it grew more detailed.

The Key to the Gates. The title was familiar enough for her to be wary of it, but little more than that. She considered how to answer; did she want to unleash this person onto the world with that sort of knowledge? Maybe a few decades ago she wouldn't have hesitated so long, but now...

"You may find a copy of this book with the priestesses of Moonspear," she answered after a long, long moment. "It is well-guarded."

There. That should be enough to satisfy the magic. There were ways around the book's defenses--some she knew and some she didn't--but those she was not willing to share. She stood from her stone seat and nodded to him politely.

Without magic in her voice now, she asked, "Are you satisfied with our arrangement?" It was curiosity that sparked her to ask more than anything else; if he wasn't, unless he bound her with magics older than old, there was very little he could do to force her to speak more.