A dim, cramped room with no windows; and that smell was back again. The floorboards wouldn't stop moving, slowly back and forth - like he wouldn't notice. The air was a strangling hand at throat, sweat-slicked leather stuck to chest. The bed squatted sharply in corner, waiting with lumpy arms and springs to stab; not again. Black strands in his face, black talons inside, always clawing for more. Something about that smell - but the door was silent. Good; silence was good, but that didn't stop those shifty planks. They knew, and a stubble-covered jaw cracked a smirk; having his intelligence insulted by floorboards.

The hand...gnawing.

Surely not his hand; leather wouldn't taste nice, moth's delight under coils and cloth. Someone laughed, but sharp blue eyes pinned down the walls, and that smell was familiar. Crimson squeezed the world, and the beat was its muse...brown, everywhere. Wood wouldn't flow red, but brown stained body but for black cloak. Planks bemoaned, like they ever helped him, legs pushed the ceiling down. A bloody gem atop corpses piled; now a dead bear flies. Misshapen drawers held aloft the melting light, but cloak choked more than air. Clever, but boards had warned, and the shiny leaf whipped up behind as walls spun.

Taste...No stars now.

A dim, cramped room with no windows; and a chair. Plynt poked poor craftsmanship. Sap dripped out; a curious thing; vest-pockets grumbled as teeth rained on tongue. The smell, the hand; there it was. Little rascal behind a peg-leg, the gloved hands held it; a simple seat was no match. Red, it was, at the wrist, but otherwise a perfectly good hand; shame, really. Had there been more...well, probably. Constellations caught between two worlds, and gritty teeth gnawed greedily. The tasting, warm enveloping bitterness, wet copper and satisfaction; shame. Named, but no more, slept first loss under hateful bed, slumbers now inside head, tasted all in guilty corners.

The door barked a knock, angry mumbled.

Steeled-toes slid slowly, leathered-fingers turned carefully, and light stabbed viciously, but with it came sweet sea air. Stale clawed while fresh embraced, pulled cowering into light by lungs. Deep breaths, deck swelled and sank, crushing crimson receded. Eyes adjusting, massive mast and scattered sailors swooped into focus. Deep breaths, and the world opened up into seagulls and coughs, grunts and groaning rigging, the salt on the air and the green horizon. Deep breaths, and the paranoia and anxiety slid away like water; for the most part. He was still quite aware of the severed hand tucked into his vest, and his stomach roiled at the thought.

"Nyadir?" asked a voice too smooth for the sea.

The swarthy sailor who sauntered up salty let his dull brown eyes linger a bit long on the large steel hilt over his passenger's shoulder, and the tall swordsman answered curtly. He nodded as the surprisingly pale man informed him they had arrived, a fact not evident by all the massive wooden frogs squatting on the lily pads of the delta, and the dual-masted flies drawn to them. Then, the man started rambling about a missing crew member, and the cloaked wanderer just tuned him out. After many annoyingly long moments the crewman left, and the dark-haired half-elf rested his bare elbows on the splintered railing and stared out over the water.

The many warehouses and piers of the delta drew back as the boat approached the shore, and hills of vibrant grass rolled off into the mountains. The groaning ship came to a lurching halt as they finally docked, and with a nod to the cautious crew the swordsman stepped down the boarding plank and off into the muddy gaps between squatting structures. Considering the tales of strife striking this little island nation, there were far fewer patrols than expected, and soon the road widened out into grass and sky. The air warmed as the wanderer walked inland, and dragonflies darted about the fields; it wasn't long before sweat flowed again.

For only half the day the swordsman had sulked in that cabin, a simple trip down to Radasanth from where they had stashed the airship, but still the thought-devourer came; and those incidents were happening more frequently. Just a little more money, a few more connections, and he would find it; anything could be found with enough money and power. As he walked, high hills sank into a lush valley, and grass was replaced with orchards and crops; the dragonflies disappeared. Above all this order stood the sharp spire at the heart of the city, its shimmering dome below overseeing the stone which stretched out to the wide walls wrapping the capital of Corone.

Security was tight, and many questions later the half-elf finally emerged into the bustling avenue. Despite the heat, the crowd poured down the smooth streets, and as he strolled deeper into the city he took a leather strip from a vest pocket, and tied his messy black hair into a tail. Wood turned to stone as the swordsman waded through the thickening throng to the heart of the city, and after acquiring some food and water he came to the great oaken doors of his destination. Tall halls covered in tapestries of courageous warriors past stretched tiled into the depths of the colossal Citadel, and the wanderer was led to a small side-chamber to await an opponent. Fading figures flickered on white walls for a while before another monk in earthen robes ushered him through an ornate door.

The cold stone floor held carved coffins along the cracked walls, struck a pale blue from the shafts of moonlight between the pillars. Desiccated arms grasped cobwebbed blades, and just inside the row of columns the high ceiling gave way by jagged edges to clear night and crystalline stars. The monk and door had vanished, so the swordsman shifted his cloak back over bare shoulders, and checked the dagger and spool at his belt. The rustle of leaves and gurgle of streams floated on the breeze, and vines crept in over the remaining roof of this old mausoleum. The thrill which Nyadir sought was already coming to him, and it was with anticipation he stepped out among the dead into the moonlight.