A Bloody Good Time (Open, Tavern?)

Nevin was sitting in one of the local taverns in Stoneville, quietly nursing a mug of mead that he had been hanging onto for over an hour now. He wasn't there to get drunk - while he didn't mind being buzzed, actually being heavily intoxicated did not sit well with him. Instead the redhead was sitting there, just listening to the hustle and bustle of the tavern, letting the cherry atmosphere wash over him.

Even here he was wearing a long sleeved shirt and gloves, though he had forgone the cloak and the tunic in the stifled air of the drinking area. He'd drawn a few odd glances for that, but no one really raised a fuss about it - several of the people in here were miners after all, and had paid his shop a visit once or twice for medicine. While he wasn't an overly familiar face, Nevin was at least recognized.

And no one wanted to irritate or offend the man who was making it easier for them to breathe. So at a table he sat, exchanging pleasant greetings with those who passed by, and waving the barmaid off whenever she came by - aside from asking for a mug of water and some bread and stew. Normally he would have gotten bored and gone back to his shop already, but he was forcing himself to take a break from working on formulae and ingredients for a while.

((hi there! Alt character of Philomel here!))

Exhausted and personally irritated, Stare slumped into the bar. Her claws clunked like tired swords against the floor, and her whole figure looked dulled in spirit. Most of her feathers drooped unhappily, shrouding her in a coat of depression and an air of grumpiness. Slouching over to the bar she glowered at all those who thought it was a good idea to stare at the sudden tengu in the room, and slumped into a bar stool.

For a while she sat there still, fending off the last of the looks with her dark eyes. Those who dared were soon told otherwise as their hearts beat wildly at meeting hers. Seconds passed, minutes then and there was peace for her. The only gaze was that of the bartender.

"Ummm?" said Melanie, waiting.

"Beer," Stare grunted. "Please. Lots. I've just fought my way through a whole street fighting tournament."

Melanie looked briefly over the tengu and saw the obvious marks. Dried blood on the edge of feathers, a few scratches on the beak and weariness running through every muscle that could be seen. Quickly Melanie drew a large beer and set it on the bar before Stare, realising she was across from a potential warrior.

Stare raised that proud brow of hers that framed the dark eyes capable more than just seeing and watched the woman for a while as she cautiously slid the drink across. Brown liquid sloshed with creamy foam, melding the two as one and sending a spirited droplet sliding down the side of the large terracotta tankard.

Nevin had watched the avian enter, her body posture slumped over, taking in the droop and the way she slouched even as she sat down. He had studied her for a few moments before humming to himself as he pushed his food and drink to one side of the table. A few moments of searching - and a hush falling over the room which made him pause for a second - and he had found what he was looking for.

Parchment and a quill, with an ink bottle - writing tools, always a good idea to keep on hand. He shot a quick glance back at the humanoid bird, taking in the fact that they were able to consume human-standard foods and began jotting notes down on the parchment, the sound of the quill tip scratching into the paper strangely loud in the hushed quiet of the Tavern following the new arrival.

"Avian in nature, potential for increased metabolism, possible lower body mass than traditionally ground-based individual. Likely needs a lower dosage as compared to the norm - though perhaps not.
Still, lower dosage to begin with would probably be wise, if needed quantities can be increased to satiate needs from there." This was said quietly, to himself as Nevin wrote. He didn't even seem to note that he was speaking, and if someone looked at the parchment he was writing on they would find that his words did not match up - the page was slowly being filled with formula.

Gawkers had definitely had a show today as if the bird and strange man was not enough Jethro stepped in. He was a stock medium built man his skin was mottled, or what skin could be seen under a hooded duster. His left pupil was blue the other was crimson as if his eye had been smashed by something heavy and it was still healing. His duster was remarkably aged and well worn. He found a seat at the bar and looked at the grill, and asked the nearest tender "Is that meat fresh?" the bar tender nodded "I'll take roast beef, rare, as rare as you can make it. I'll also take two large potatoes grilled as well, a large wedge of cheese and whole loaf of bread." His tone was a hairs breath away from being monotone and had the bite of aggression to it.

There was a momentary hissing sound on the griddle and with out much fanfare an entire plate of food was plopped in front of the stranger. Looking over the piece of meat which was still pink the stranger nodded "that'll do." Eyes were on him of course eyes were on him he was a strange looking, stranger in a small town. But unlike the bird lady he was a guy, and it didn't take long for drunken miners to get up enough courage to challenge him. Mid way though his meat he looked up at the ring leader and simply asked " Do you know what a bad idea is?" It wasn't until the drunk miner made an attempt to take the bread from his plate that Jethro showed him what a heavy mistake the miner did make.

There was a loud crash and an ugly organic crunching sound. The miner's face seemed to have bounced off of the bar causing him to stumble backwards into an adjacent table, belonging to a silent observer. Table, drunk miner, and mead spilling all over the place.

Snapping his neck at the drunks buddies who started to rise in retaliation he asked in the same unwavering tone he had been using "do you know what a bad idea is?" They backed off and Jethro mentally groaned, this was going to make for an interesting night.

(OOC Sorry for such a crappy post. My head hurts so bad I can feel it in my teeth))

Siezing the handle of the tankard Stare began to raise the drink to her lips as the violence begun. Rolling her eyes back into her head she grunted, her tongue loudly clacking on the inside of her massive beak with distaste. She shouldn't have come in here expecting there not to be some fists thrown. It was a downtown, grumpy pub after all. But she was exhausted. The three rounds of the street fighting had truly tired her out - three rounds and three sets of full five minutes where she had had to see off more than twenty other combatants. Some had been twice the size of her, others had been smaller, but all had underestimated the strength and dexterity of the bird-creature to the extent where the crowd had been stunned to silence. Fifteen minutes of her life used up, but a hefty fine purse of gold was hers now at her belt and she was not going to let anyone, not even that frigging god who presumed to speak to her in her head even when she was on holiday ...

Watch out!

Smoothly she slid off the stool and to the side as a huge miner collapsed into the bar, just where moments before Stare had been. Immediately a string of kenku was coming from her beak, a mighty torrent of muttered caws and clicks that told everyone in the near vacinty of her immense dislike of being disturbed. Standing there, not hurt and thankfully without a spilt drink (now there had been a lucky escape for these brawlers) Stare looked around for the prepetrator. She found a human with black hair looking back at her with a steak of meat before him, looking just as displeased as she was.

You should clean yourself up, the handsome, melodic voice spoke again, directly into her mind.

You should leave me alone when I am on holiday. As we discussed, Stare retorted.

There was a short constiction on her mind, as the presence paused a little and sent pressure to remind her just who and what he was. But then the human-form-bound god of blonde hair and many secrets grunted and retreated somewhat. Have your holiday then. Just be aware there is a man over there with a book and ink making notes about you.

Stare narrowed her eyes and immediately began to turn. Scanning the room she ignored the now prone body of the miner on the floor and looked as everyone just ... got back to their drinks. It did not take long for her eager eyes to find the hunched figure of the young, tall man taking notes and mumbling something about "avian."

Well that could only mean one person. She sauntered over to the table and stared until he noticed her.

"Writing about me, huh?"

Nevin barely registered the brawl that broke out as he muttered to himself and scratched away inside his notes. Aside from lifting up his notebook when it almost got splashed by some spilled ale, the red-haired man didn't twitch. He had glanced up when the newest figure entered the bar, but his gaze had dropped back to the formula he was writing almost immediately.

He also didn't respond right away when the avian individual noticed him and walked over - it took several moments of staring before he even looked up. His eyes were a bit dried out, and didn't process her appearance at first, at least not consciously.

"... Beak would make it hard to imbibe potions from normal vials - perhaps a nontoxic crush able alternative made from a glazed material, or a preference to powders or smokes that can be inhaled - oh sweet crimson I am so sorry." Near the end of his babble awareness returned to Nevin's eyes, and he grimaced before blinking furiously, trying to get fluids back to his eyes. He took another look and registered the question, and looked down at the formula that were now scrawled in front of him.

Idiot! This was supposed to be a break from working! Not finding a new branch to work on - OK stop ignoring the woman? With claws and daggers that asked you a question before she decides to start stabbing. He shook his head sharply, and focused his gaze back on the avian woman.

"Right, sorry. Uhm. Kind of? Less about you specifically though you did trigger it, but more about avian humanoids in general and I'm sorry I'm babbling." He took a deep breath, and gestured to the seat across from him.

"If you want to take a seat? My name is Nevin, and I work as an alchemist. You are the first avian-type humanoid I've seen, so it... Sparked the question in my mind of whether standard remedies and potions would work on your kind." He rubbed the back of his head, nervous and mildly worried. What was with his luck of running into intimidating individuals with daggers??

Her brow was still high, as high as it could go, letting the glory of her fully black eyes peer at the young man before her. Young in terms of a human, certainly, but maybe older than Stare in years. There was a certain advantage to being: one, of a race little others knew about; and two, being of a race with accelerated aging.

"The proper name is kenku," Stare replied, her beak only slightly opening as she spoke. Most of her words, after all, were formed in the back of her throat and accentuated with her long dark tongue. "Though we used to use the word 'tengu,' but that is a long time ago."

On the suggestion of the human - she presumed he was so by his seemingly normal appearance - Stare took a slumped seat across from him. Her eyes glanced down and read upside down the sentences that he was scribing. She blinked as she read ways that he considered she could be made to imbibe poison without use of a classic vial. With an amused gleam in her eyes she pointedly raised her tankard and opened her beak wide. Then, with a practised clawed hand she lay the edge of the tankard to the very edge of her beak and tipped the liquid in.

Quite ordinary for her, but quite unusual for anyone else to watch.

"I'm not immune to poison in the same manner the next being or beast is," she shrugged. "Remedies for the same matter." She smiled in her eyes. "My race has about three or four thousand members in its whole species, so it's rare to have heard of us."

She sat back and looked briefly over to the man with the steak, just checking to see if he was going to start fighting again.

"I'm Avis. Or used to be. Now Stare," she stared at him, her eyes begin to shimmer. "So what do you do? You're a ... Poisoner then?"

Nevin watched, fascinated as she drank - it was more like pouring the beer into an organic funnel. He tilted his head in consideration of that - with practice, the Kenku had no problems with human standard vessels. Hm. Still, inhalant mixtures might be more effective on them - birds had lungs outsized of the norm for their bodies. He wasn't about to go asking Stare if her lungs were bigger than a human's though - that was easy to misconstrue.

And jut because they weren't immune to poison - or their remedies - didn't mean things didn't affect them in different ways. Body weight and tissue type had to be considered when making alchemical mixtures. What worked for one person might be too much, or too little, for another.

Then he processed her question, and despite himself Nevin frowned. He spun the book around and pushed it towards her - if all she knew were poisons and antidotes, she'd only be able to recognize some of the recipes on the paper. He tapped a block near the top and began speaking.

"As I said, Miss -" he paused here, making sure she didn't object to the epithet, " - Stare, I am work as an Alchemist.
While I can make poisons, my primary focus is on remedies and supplements. This section for example is a set of formula for a energizing potion that can help with physical exhaustion and a need for sleep." He tapped the set of equations as he spoke, steel in his tone.

"And the fact that there are so few of your race indicates to me that there is a very good chance that herbalists, doctors, and alchemists like myself may never have encountered you and so don't know what medicines will work best for you. And I despise holes in my knowledge base." Nevin had grown agitated as he spoke, and grabbed his mug of mead and drained the rest of it as he worked to calm himself down. Alchemy was a precious subject to him, and regarding it as just a means to one end, poisons, aggravated him. It was limiting and he did not approve. Finally he took a deep breath and refocused his gaze on the likely either amused or irritated Kenku across from him.

"My apologies. I am an Alchemist,
from a rather small town before I traveled here. You are not the first to regard me as a poisoner, and it.... Irritates me to be considered such." He signaled for the barmaid to bring him more mead as he switched to drinking his water for the moment.

Indeed, it was hard to tell if the kenku was irritated or amused. They had that sort of face that consisted simply of a large beak, two huge eyes and a brow. Beyond these there was little indication of expression from a kenku. Only the gleam of the eyes, the raising or lowering of a brow and the slight ability to turn the corners of a mouth up or down at where beak became flesh was where any physical signs of emotion came from. Right now Stare was looking at the alchemist, but had he been watching slowly, and had he known her well, he would have seen that the openness of her eyes showed that she was not annoyed.

"There is little need to apologise, Alchemist, despite what others of my kind might have to say. I'm one of the very rare kind who dwell outside of our homeland. Which is near Akashima, and shares some similarities if you are curious."

She chugged back another mouthful of beer and slowly ran a hand through her feathers at her face. At that closeness the deep grey claws could be seen clearly and the scaling that covered over her skin shone under the dim light from the window nearby.

She found a line of dried blood across the edge of a few feathers. Grunting she began to run at it and the fine dark red flakes began to fall down to the table like unfortunate snow. She huffed through her small nostrils with slight aggravation before continuing.

"I apologise for assuming you are a poisoner, but let's just say ... I don't walk amongst honest people. In fact I'm technically on holiday," a twitch at the very corner of her mouth made a smile, "Basics - our bones are more hollow, like a bird, allowing more agility and a lighter frame. No, we don't fly, and technically we are from a different world altogether, not made by the gods of this world." She waved a hand and leant back.

"What else are you thinking? We are shorter if you are curious about that." And she clicked her tongue and let out a rapid series of caws and calls, saying, "We have our own language," in tengu. She paused again.

"Well?"

Nevin listened to her explanation and snatched up his writing tool again, quickly scratching out several formula scattered across the notes that he'd been working on. He chewed in one end of it as he studied her, frowning intensely in thought.

"No need to apologize Miss Stare.
I'm well aware that alchemy has some skewed views .
It doesn't help that we do make poisons, or other... reagents, from time to time." He was not about to ask her what she was in vacation from - better not to remind her of it, if she was trying to escape it for a while. A flip of the page brought a blank sheet up, and he began jotting down bullet points of what she had said about her race, twirling his quill at times as he thought. Finally he looked back up to her, his lips quirked in a slight smile.

"Well now. You say you and yours are from another world than our own, yes? That makes me curious about the nutrients that your kin need - mayhap you're missing something, like a mineral. Or your world is close enough to our own that everything you need you already get. That would... Well, thst would be seen on whether or not the Kenku have developed any sicknesses since coming here, and has probably already been addressed if so. But you say that you're lighter built,
and your bones are Hollow - that indicates smaller doses for most things for equivalent effect, but things... Hmm, things that affect the marrow inside your bones might not be as well suited to you as other races." He had started off speaking calmly, but by the end of it he had returned to frantically writing short hand notes down in the notebook.

It took a visible effort to rein himself back from that, instead focusing his gaze onto her. He had more questions as someone related to medical skills, but he was going to restrain himself to alchemic topics for the time being. At least, what he saw as alchemic topics.

"Have you ever noticed, or heard tell of, medicines not working quite the same on you or another Kenku as they would on a Human or something like am Elf? They're close enough to Human standard that most natural remedies that work on one race work on the other." That wasn't always true for the humanoid races, but, why wonder about the Kenku when he had an individual here in front of him?

A shiver ran down her spine as Stare thought about the process of how she had found out her people were from another world. Indeed, for now only she knew that. What remained of her family (basically, no-one now), and what was of her people still presumed that they were born of Keribas, brought over the sea by the guiding spirits they worshipped, the Kami, to escape the horror that they called the Kage. What books, research, and a certain god (i.e. her employer/master and voice-in-her-head, Vitruvion) had told her was the truth - that in fact her people were a discarded race from a distant planet. They had been sent here by a bored god, caught up in a fret of confusion and enslaved themselves. Then they had been taken across the sea to Akashima, where somehow along the line they had freed themselves and basically adopted the feudal society of their human neighbours. All they presumed now had been likely hastily made up by elders a long time ago, who had wanted to avoid the darker history. Who had wanted to make a nicer, happier image rather than a discarded species and enslavement.

Well that was an interesting night when we found all of that out, Vitruvion luxuriously drawled. Stare caught an image of the handsome man sprawled across a sofa. He had a goblet clutched in his hand and he was gazing out of a wide window to the ocean. The same ocean which Stare had floated across to go on her holiday.

Oh shove off, will you, she spat back at him. I thought you were going to leave me alone for this holiday?

I am leaving you alone, my dear little bitch. I am not telling you to come home. In fact I am taking a holiday myself. Cannot you see the lack of underlings around me?

Stare sighed and rubbed at her cheek, trying to listen to the alchmist as he finished his speech on medicines. He was asking her if they worked the same way as they did on humans or elves. Or so she thought. As she tried to think she realised she could still see the image of the almost naked man/god lounging back in Beinost, right at the back of her mind. It made her seethe slightly and the anger began to boil inside of her.

Just be quiet, please.

There was a moment's pause, as she was sent a single image of his face in defined detail, and a single raised eyebrow. A mildly warning gaze, but one she would deal with when she was back home. For now ...

"In all honesty I cannot say I have. Kenkus tend to live in their close knit community you see," she spoke fast, hoping that Nevin did not see the distraction in her eye and the steady picking up of her pulse. "In clans they - we - call flocks, each led by a shogun. There are classes, like a feudal system, as well as the karegeta, the classless and shamed ones, which I am from. Still they, though, live in the kenku community. I have lived there ... and then here. Not kenku community. Where I am the only one. I guess just ... I have no idea if I have or not. I know I smaller, lighter, and faster. I know I am more agile than the average human. As to where we are from," she looked down, her gaze staring hard into the brown frothy liquid before her, thinking of the true history of her people. "Only one man knows the truth of that, and he is a god."

She seemed... distracted at one point - a flash where her gaze hardened, and if Nevin had known her better, or had known other Kenku, he might have been able to recognize the signs of irritation that ran across her face in a matter of a second or two. As it was though, he didn't know her, so only caught the way her eyes shifted for a moment, before turning back to him. He frowned and tapped his quill against the paper, humming in thought. That sounded.... lonely. For a moment he rubbed one hand against his sleeve, feeling the mildly raised lines that ran along his skin underneath the shirt and he bit back a sigh. He knew too well what it was like to... no, he wasn't going there.

"Well. No matter then - insular communities tend to change from the standard, so pockets may develop resistances and immunities at different rates from each other, even given a common starting point." Drumming the quill gave way to spinning it back and forth between his fingers. There had been some... anger to that last line, about the god. And Nevin was well aware that beings outside of the normal plane tended to be somewhat callous towards mortal beings. Finally he spun the quill around and pointed the feathered end towards her. "I'll be making some medicines in lighter doses for you then. The first batch will be on the.. well, house isn't quite right as I sleep in the attic above my shop, but no matter. It's a matter of gratitude towards you for sparking me towards making medicines more closely geared towards non-Human races. I'll likely be seeing enough of them as things progress. Now then - you said you live here, but are on vacation at the moment. So you live, perhaps, in Corone, but not in Stonevale? What brought you to this town then?" There - hopefully a shift towards a topic that wouldn't generate anger in her. He didn't know if it had been something he had said that had aggravated her before, but he didn't want to incite more irritation in her.

The biomancer finished his meal in what could be considered record time. He had finished his meal and paid for the food and damages. Standing once again Jethro gave cold glare at the drunk miners who challenged him and then turned and gave a nod towards the raven lady and the alchemist. There was a small moment where his eye twinged (back to its normal blue green) as he looked at the gentleman. It was a pause almost a recognition but the biomancer didn't mention a thing and instead merely said "sorry bout the mess." He then made a quiet exit into the village proper.

((Sorry folks I can't keep up.))

Stare watched the tall man drift out, her head tilting slightly as she saw him much more satisfied than earlier. His brawling buddy still lay on the ground, stunned as a dumbstruck lover with no one to watch over him - though someone had now turned him over onto his side at least. She blinked a couple of times, thinking about the process by which she had precisely been led back here, to this small pub and coming from the street fighting ring. Faint memories of punches swung to the head, and then the sight of the crisp flakes of blood below her on the table reminded her just how in fact she had staggered in here herself, and how she had not ended up being made dull.

"You are ... offering me diluted versions of your medicines?" she looked back at Nevin, her brow raised. "What for free? Whatever for? You have barely met me."

A pause made its way into her speech, and she leant across the table, her eyes moving steadily over the words he had written. They traced over the word 'avian' a few times as if it were in a foreign tongue, and looked at the small descriptions he had thus far made. His hand covered part of the page so she could not tell if he had written down anything too recently of what she had told him. However, she captured him then, in a moment of her own intense curiousity, her gaze tracing over the structure of the alchemist's face, then down over how he held his body. Strong, studious though. Excited. He twisted his quill this way and that in a practised method, swirling and twirling it rapidly.

"So you have a shop then?" she continued to ask, now offering him the rest of the information he had desired. "Here, or elsewhere? I actually am on holiday here in Stonevale, believe it or not. It has a certain ... simplicity that intrigued me and it is far enough away from my city where I live."

She fixed her eyes on his. "Beinost. Raiaera. The city only half full and literally shoved in place just after the Corpse War."

Nevin had noted the man watching him - and there had been a moment there, of something almost like recognition. Which.... bothered the alchemist, as no one should really know him in this town, outside of the blacksmith, and Elthas if he had wandered into town. he would have to look for that man later, and find out if one of them had managed to survive. That would be... problematic, at best. Then he turned his attention back to Stare, and shrugged slightly in response to her question.

"Do keep in mind that, at the least, the first batch would be somewhat experimental. I can safely say that they wouldn't hurt you barring an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients, but the downside is that there's no guarantee that they would actually be effective. The dose might be too low for example, or the ingredients may not work on you. In a very real way, you'd be a... test subject." He grimaced and shook his head. He'd been about to use another word there, but had hesitated and swapped it out. "And I'm offering because I've been, truth be told, getting a mite bored here in town. Barring my hunting trips, most of what I do here is brew a tonic for the miners to help with the stone dust in their lungs. While it provides a decent profit, it's not really, how should I say, engaging?" His experiments were probably all that had kept him from becoming extremely bored and wandering out of town - he was picking things up nicely from the blacksmiths, but that wasn't really enough to catch his attention.

Then she leaned over, reading his notes again, and was very much in his personal space. Muscles in his back stiffened for a moment at the sudden approach, and he swallowed softly as he got a close view of her beak and gleaming eyes, that were blazing with some emotion he couldn't place. He doubted it was malice though - if it was, she had had a very good opportunity to do something about it. Instead she just sat back and began speaking again, and Nevin shook his shoulders to disperse the tension and nerces that had crept over him while she was looking at him.

"Ah, yes. Ah-hem." He cleared his throat and ran one hand across the short hair on top of his head before continuing. "I do have a shop here in town, opened a... hm. A month or so ago? Little more than that for sure. I knew of the recipe for that tonic I mentioned, and I had recently become displaced, so starting somewhere my skills would be in demand seemed like a prudent idea." He didn't recognize the city that she mentioned, but shoved in place? That was and odd way of phrasing it. Maybe she had come here to Corone in order to avoid things that triggered painful memories.

"Well, it is certainly simple at that... outside of, well." He gestured towards the unconscious man on the floor. "Outside of excitement like that. I had a huge rush of gawkers when I first opened my shop,
as the first new arrival in town in some time who was staying more than a few days. Truth be told, it was mildly uncomfortable to be the focus of so much attention." There had been a couple points where he was sure someone would have started throwing accusations at him, but it had never happened - no reason for it to, but even so the fear had lingered. Nevin shifted and straightened his sleeves and tugged on his gloves, a subconscious motion he didn't seem to recognize happening.

Sitting back Stare watched the man for a while, her brow lowering as her eyes seemed to shift into an alternative dimension. It was something akin to that, for as her eyes glazed over with a dullness she switched into the focus that allowed her to truly gaze at the man before her. As she did so she began to see the green aura that surrounded him, the soft glow of his soul that made her see his true personality and goals. No matter how one might try to hide it, Stare could see a person's true intentions through her aura sight, for it allowed her to see into the very centre of their being. This man was green - slightly verging on the warmer spring green of a true neutral person. She could also tell that he was most definitely firmly male, with no deviation of any kind. He was also precisely twenty-one, which did not surprise her. By his outward appearance he seemed so. But most importantly here she could tell that he was not lying, was not hiding anything in any form or manner.

Usually for Stare green meant boring. It meant your run-of-the-mill ordinary background character who strode around minding his own business and simply existed. People she had met in the past who were awkwardly middle forest green had been ... less interesting than those of a more chaotic or unwittingly good nature. Even more social. Yes this man here had a tendancy towards the 'better' half a wholly unimposing creature, kinder and gentler, but he was still the sort of person that Stare would note down to avoid. Yet - yet, there was something about him despite all of that. His frank honesty, his openness and intrigue made him much more interesting as a person and -

And there was that. A flicker. Suddenly his aura shifted and a gaping hole appeared in it that Stare could only describe as a tear. Yet the edges of this rip were raw and tormented, so it was much like a slash than anything - a blank, horrid cut in the wavering form of his soul that made her heart beat faster than it had done in a long time. A moment, and then the mark was gone again, to be replaced by the soft shimmer of spring green emanating from him. It had been covered up, forgotten about. By him or by another?

Quietly she slipped out of the aura sight and leant over to the table, her eyes once more intense and bright.

"Has something been done to you?" she asked in a quiet voice. "Is there a reason why you have moved here just recently? You are ... you see I ..." she thought of how to explain it. "You have a ... scar on your soul."

The staring had been.... Awkward. Nevin felt like his new companion had been studying him, staring straight through him like she was not even really seeing him sitting there. Her eyes had gone blank, and in a normal patient he would have said they were unseeing, like she had fallen asleep with her eyes wide open in front of him - but that was impossible, it came on far too quickly for that - and she seemed like she was far too cautious and canny to fall asleep in public with no one she knew around.

Then she spoke, and Nevin felt his blood freeze in his veins, his muscles suddenly stand on edge, his eyes shooting open in shock. This time the light would shine on them directly - showing that what looked black were instead a deep, dark red. He tried to school his features, tried to mask his shock, but he knew it was too late for that.

Damn it. I thought I had been careful. It took a few precious seconds before his thoughts caught up with what she had actually said - 'had something been done to him. And that was impossible for her to know, while he might have missed a person or two in those accursed rituals, something as unique as a Kenku he was sure he would have recognized and remembered.

A faint tremble in his hand was covered up by it snatching up his mug of water - the barmaid still had not brought him more money as - he drained it in one long swallow, his throatanll and mouth suddenly painfully dry. His other hand was pressing against the wood of the table hard enough to hurt. Finally he turned his eyes to Stare, who had probably kept watching him through this sequence of events.

"I'd like you to explain how you're aware of that, Miss Stare.
I am well aware that the outward signs are masked or easily mistaken as something else." There was a tremor in his words, as he swallowed again, trying to clear some of the tension from his voice. His eyes remained locked on hers.

Stare slipped quickly back into the sight, her eyes once more fading slightly in their brightness. Carefully she surveyed him again, watching that subtly light green. It wavered around him like a quietly flapping cloak. For some people their aura was something of a shadow, a faint trace of their true selves and for others it was a true dramatic air. Avis thought this was something to do with how pronounced they were, whether they were shy or powerfully confident - but that was something to be discovered. Nevin was the sort that ...

There it was again. This time near his thigh rather than his shoulder, so she needed to stretch her neck to see it. Blood this time was oozing in tiny rivulets down the edges. She gazed at it a while, watching as it cracked into presence and then went, it's fleshy edge a slice of previous painful experience.

Lifting her eyes again to his she looked at him a while and clicked her tongue against the side of her beak. Hardly did she know what to say, or how to explain herself. In all the times she had tried to describe what her eyes could do, she found herself trying to convince the listener that she wasn't purely evil.

In fact when she looked in the mirror she found she was rather just chaotically random.

Maybe this one would be different.

"You have your alchemy, I have my eyes," she grunted, waiting for him to call her a witch. The Evil Eye after all was something famously feared in the past. And on a being close to a raven, a traditional symbol of doom ...

She inwardly cringed, but outwardly sighed and began to stand. "Sorry I looked. I can see souls and crap like that."

Nevin held out one hand in a placating gesture, indicating she keep sitting down. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, rubbing his left arm with his right hand, the black gloved hand flexing in agitation as he marshalled his thoughts together. He glanced around the table the two of them were sitting out - everyone was avoiding them, doing their best not to even look in their direction. Even the barkeep and the maid were ignoring them, gazes firmly locked on other customers. He looked back towards her and sucked in a breath, steadying himself before he spoke.

"There's.. no need for you to go, Miss Stare. I... yes. Yes, something was done to me, and it's not the most pleasant of memories. I am sorry for upsetting you." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes for a moment before laying one forearm on the table, hand just slightly above the varnished wood. His other hand came forward and pulled the glove off slowly, his eyes on hers. A revelation for a revelation."My old village was of a particular bent, an unpleasant one to a painful degree. Somewhere in the twenty years or so before my birth, they had all become enamored with an... unsavory... cult." At this point the glove was off, revealing his pale skin. The paleness was marred though, by violently crimson lines that stood up along his skin. They almost seemed like they were following the trails of his arteries and veins - but not quite, slightly off, and too numerous for the blood-carrying lines that would normally be in a human body.

"Then one day one of the 'couples' finally had a healthy child, after performing rituals to alter that child. This was momentous - every other set of parents that had tried, the child had died in the womb before birth. After that success, well, they kept going. Every few months, it felt like, they performed another ritual." His voice, though soft, carried through the hushed tavern, not quite penetrating the noise around the other patrons, but enough to carry to the Kenku. Abruptly Nevin stood up, slipping his glove back on, and placed a few coins on the table before looking at Stare. "I'm willing to keep speaking, but not in here around others. Following, or not, is your decision Miss Stare." He bowed his head to her and slipped outside.

Inwardly, he was in turmoil. He hadn't expected.. well, any of that. He hadn't expected someone to find out about the rituals, and he didn't know why he felt comfortable about talking with her about them. Not even his old teacher had learned about them from Nevin. But there had been that... not fear, but resignation, when she had started to leave. Like he would judge her and find her wanting, for her ability. Which, was in all honesty, a bit astounding - the ability to see souls? He wouldn't have believed her, if she hadn't flat out mentioned something that she would have had no way of knowing by normal means. Enough people had passed off his red hair as natural, and his eyes as merely dark brown or black, and he was an old hand at keeping the 'tattoos' hidden. He half hoped she would follow him out - but he wouldn't be too surprised if it was too much.

Her beak remained slightly ajar. The image of the pale skin with the angry red lines flooded her mind as she watched him get up. Her eyes, dark as they were, slid slowly closed and she cursed herself inwardly, entirely unsure if she should have even mentioned it at all. Clearly he was upset. Yet he was also quite open to her, not reacting to her powers like she was some demon from hell. Instead he seemed to immediately consider that he was the source of dark power, not her, and that her usual acceptance that people will hate her was reversed. Now suddenly it was him pricing her wrong and immediately presuming that about her.

Utterly mixed feelings of anxiety, confusion, irritation at herself for evening going into it all battles her body, making her feel like crap, making her feel like she had been the one that had done those terrible things to his body - charring, scarring, hacking, bleeding ...

Go with him.

She blinked. But at least she closed her beak now, her sense of being swimming to awareness and her eyes darting around. It was strange. She had almost forgotten him in that moment.

You can't ever forget me, my dear. There was no chance I was not going to listen to the rest of the conversation. In her mind she saw him now upright on the seat he had been lounging on, eyes piercing the lowering sun in the sky beyond the window. Now. Go with him.

I'm supposed to be on holiday, she answered, curling a hand into a light fist and physically sighing. It would have received some odd looks were it not for the fact everyone else in the pub seemed to be actively looking away.

You are on holiday until I saw so, was Vitruvion's conclusion. Consider it over for the next few hours. Or completely, depending what he is. I want to know what he is. Rarely does your aura sight give us someone whose very soul has been tainted. Now - follow him.

But - she began to protest, honestly annoyed now. Him? Steal her holiday? That was ... Perfectly within his rights as her master but ... Annoying.

I can feel your intrigue towards this all. He chugged back wine, letting the taste briefly touch over the connection between them, before it was snatched away. Now, I can make this an order if you like-

How much can I tell him about you? she asked quickly, not wanting to get into the matter of orders. In fact she was now getting to her feet. Lots of previous experience with the human-bound god who might as well own her - and there was far more truth in that than falsehood - told her that disobeying something he labeled as an 'order' was never a good idea. Vitruvion already allowed Stare a lot more freedoms than he could do. Their ability to insult and banter, for instance, had never gotten in the way of action, unless her banter had been too much for the situation.

Not the obvious piece of course, Vitruvion said. As Stare chugged down the last dregs of her beer she nodded. He was of course talking about his godhood - which a total of four beings, including himself and Stare knew about. The other two were his half sister and his captain of the guard Raevin. But that I may be able to be of assistance ... I will narrate what you can say. Let him know though that I am here.

She grunted and started to stalk towards the door, brow and determined pace set. No longer on holiday she had a job now to do, a purpose. Opening the door she gazed into the dimming daylight until she saw the young man, somewhere on the edge of 'willing to wait' and 'scarper'.

"So, where are we going?" Stare asked quietly, her right hand consciously now falling over the cuff jewelry on her left wrist. The one that was permanently there. That could never come off. "And by the way my master is listening to all of this. I can't stop him from doing so. I ..." She broke off. And thought how best to phrase it. "It's complicated," she spoke with distaste. "But I have to agree with him, he might be able to help you. He won't tell anyone, he is a master of secrets. So yeah. Coming with but you have a right to know he is there."

Thank you for such a rude introduction, my dear. Vitruvion hissed.

Oh don't worry, Stare replied dryly, He's going to get the whole fecking story.

Vitruvion shrugged and leant back. Be my guest. Clearly he has heard worse stories.

He honestly hadn't expected she would follow him out. She had seemed a bit stunned as he talked. But, she had seemed aggravated and upset when she had mentioned her eyes - and seeing souls. It seemed that she was used to people dismissing her - and keeping in mind what she had said earlier, about walking with less than pleasant individuals - maybe she was used to people being secretive and avoiding her. But in his case? She already knew the secret he had intended to never let out, so he might as well tell her the rest, and do his best to explain what she'd seen.

A mirthless laugh tumbled from Nevin's lips, and he shrugged slightly, the motion ending with his shoulders in a bit of a slump. He motioned down the street where broken sign for a weapons shop could be seen, with a crude wooden placard planted in front of it proclaiming an alchemist's store.

"My home, such as it is, is down there.
I picked this Tavern because, well, I have issues finding out where I'm going if too many turns are involved." He drew up his shoulders and glanced towards her, then down to the spot where one hand was now covering a wrist, then back up to her face. Finally he gave a shake of his head and chuckled weakly.

"I'd be grateful for the help, but I don't know how possible it is. What was done to me... Well.
It twisted and altered me beyond what a normal human should be able to do." Nevin had no clue as to who her 'master' was - but the fact that he was apparently always listening spoke of some kind of magical bond, and a powerful one, if her master was back in her home city, in another continent. And - apparently capable of talking to her, he would guess. Was he why there had been moments where she had been distracted? That kind of bond was.... Unpleasant. Nevin normally valued his privacy, and the thought of someone always hearing him and being able to speak to him made him uncomfortable. Still - it wasn't his cross to bear. He did appreciate e the warning about her master - but his secret had already been slipped to this other man, and even the faint mention of hoe of help... He made it to the door of his shop and unlocked the latch on it, and held it open for her to enter.

Stare regarded the young alchemist for a while before cawing a neutral note. It said in kenku, "Oh well then. I guess that is it really," and was a little microsecond of a sound. She tugged down her sleeves until they were beyond the heels of her scaled hands. Then, taking a breath, she did as Nevin suggested, moving past him in a simple number of strides, going from the dusk into the dimness of the shop.

An alchemist's shop. Made clear by his mention, the sign outside ... And the dramatic content of this place. Carefully she let her eyes flicker around, picking out the various items and pieces or furniture that established this as a shop front. A worktop, that barred direct access to a doorway at the back. This was clearly the counter. Extending from it, covering various parts of walls was a series of shelves, with plants, elements of plants, small containers and other unusual contents. Soft light came in through a couple of windows and the whole place seemed welcoming yet purposeful. Truly an alchemist's shop, filled with herbology wonders.

Looking back to Nevin she waited for him to follow her in. Blinking slowly she took in his figure, taller than her of course, and so human. So gloriously human and normal and of a race that had meant to walk these streets. Her on the other hand - she was a representative of a garbage pile, a lost cause. But one who had been found by the son of the god who had made her race and so ... And so ...

"The man I work for is powerful. Truly. You'd be surprised with what he has been capable of in the past. Though I'm not his biggest fan," she ran a hand through the feathers at her head, "He's got resources and a lot more magic than anyone I know. And not even of a particular kind." Slowly her hand dropped, and she seemed less confident.

"Sorry. You were going to tell me your past," she clasped her hands together and stilled, going silent. And at the back of her mind the presence of Vitruvion made himself known. Listening. Contemplative.

Powerful.

Nevin followed her inside, closing and latching the door behind him - he'd rather not have any unexpected guests coming in at this point. That done, he walked over to the counter and turned around, leaning his back against it as he looked down at Stare. This was the first time he'd actually taken the time to look at her while standing up - outside of the Tavern he had been in too much consternation to really notice how small she was. Tiny, and now without her confidence that had been flowing strongly, she seemed almost... Frail? But he well knew appearances could be deceiving.

Off came the gloves, once more revealing the harsh red lines that ran along his skin. Now he rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, showing that the lines had continued on up his arms, disappearing underneath the bunched up sleeve - it wouldn't take a genius to know that the vivid lines kept going, out of sight.

"Indeed I did, and so I shall. I don't doubt your master's power, Miss Stare, don't mistake that.
It's the understanding I doubt will come - I still have trouble believing it, and I lived it." Absently, one finger trailed along the mess of lines, seemingly following one in particular. He looked up to her abruptly, focusing his eyes on her.

"I left off saying that they continued rituals on the child every few months. When the child was just reaching his teenage years - roughly sixteen winters he had seen - they began another one. The child never objected to these - why should he have? The cult was everything, he barely knew which two people in it were his parents. But the cult was all he knew, the rituals a common occurrence in his existence. So when they brought a stranger in, the child thought nothing of it." Nevin closed his eyes at this point, squeezing them shut so he didn't have to watch her reaction to what he was saying.

"The stranger was a traveler, a man from outside the town. The next ritual the cult was performing required a human sacrifice - and though they all were devoted to the cult, the people living in that village all wanted to see what came after. So they found an unwary traveler, a man who had stopped in the inn for the night. He... Was not prepared, when they came in for him." Nevin's finger began to dig into the skin that 'covered' the raised red line.

"I know now, that that was a mistake on their part. They should have chosen one of their own. The sacrificial ritual ripped the man's life apart, pulled it apart at the very seams - and merged it with the child's, in an impossible act. I woke up, screaming from that. I now had the knowledge, the understanding that the man had had, some of his views and beliefs had overcome mine - how could a boy of sixteen years overcome the experience of a full grown man, cut down in his prime? But I also knew, then, that what my 'family' had done to me was wrong on levels that could barely be understood. That is probably where the damage you see to my soul comes from. What they were trying to do took me... Longer to figure out, after I had... Dealt with the cult." He brought his arm up in front of his closed eyes. The crimson lines were glowing faintly, an unnatural light shimmering inside of them.

“They had been following something. Afterwards, I first thought it had been a Vampire, playing some sick and twisted game on a village of gullible humans, but I'm not so sure of that any more. Maybe it was something else, something not quite of this world that seeped in, got its hooks into them. That doesn't matter - though if I find any clues about it, I will be hunting them down. The result though? I was still recovering, trying to comprehend having lived two lives, one of obedience to the village and the other as a traveler who had been sacrificed up for their abominable schemes. They performed one more ritual, and this time I know they didn't anticipate what would happen to them. That ritual? Sucked the blood from their bodies, drained the village dry. At least, most of it - I think some might have escaped, been absent when the ritual occurred. But the blood from the village, well.” The coldly calm voice paused as he gestured at his arm.

"As far as I can tell, you're seeing it. It sings to me, you know, sings when exposed blood is nearby - the blood upon you is a faint hum, a gentle susurration that scratches at the back of my mind. Whatever else the rituals intended to do, make me a vessel perhaps, or just change me into what I am now…. I can, to some degree, manipulate blood. Not in ritual magic, as is the norm - I can work it directly. Maybe they wanted to make a mage who was disconnected from the Tap, but if that was the case, I think they failed. So. There you have it.” Finally he opened his eyes again. He had said more than he intended to - he had not meant to say that he could work blood magic, but by then she and her master had already known enough that he couldn't bring himself to care about the words slipping from his lips.

He slumped back, sinking his weight more heavily onto the countertop behind him. The calm cold that had blanketed him as he spoke had left him, and now he felt… Drained.



(I actually didn't process the height difference earlier lol)

With the undisputed patience of a dignified listener, she waited for him to finish. Drinking in every last word she let the description of his past - the family of horrors, the spine-chilling sacrifice and the repeated ceremonies. Blood boiled in her like it did beneath the surface of his pale flesh, a myriad of reds and pinks that curved and snaked their way like gang tattoos. But she could see the truth in them, and the truth in the crude slice that had been carved from his soul in the process - for he was in pain, both spiritually and psychologically, his past scarring him in the same way his cult had him physically.

It was intriguing to note that he spoke of himself in the third person. That the story was of, "the child," only moving to "my" and "me" when the connection to his harmed soul came to be known. When the part that affected him perhaps the most, that human sacrifice that he very likely had felt some guilt over in life, came into the narration it was suddenly his tale. Not some distant person from a fantastic novel. Instead it was him, it was his life, his pain. That which he had been trying to avoid to admit came with the full force of the admittance that his soul was truly not complete ... or rather it was too complete. It had another soul, another existence, pulling at it, and so many wrongdoings else scarring him. All wounding Nevin's soul through the unnatural ritual of blood magic, and the taint of a terrifying childhood. Giving him another man's life to endure. Becoming "me" when two identities had been merged, when he had truly become ... him. And not the person before.

She opened her beak to speak when he had told the result of the ritual, and what he had done post. With her body full of questions, and likely many more at the other end of the presence she could not read the emotions of but could feel the weight off, she took a breath in - but was cut off as the alchemist continued.

"... It sings to me, you know, sings when exposed blood is nearby - the blood upon you is a faint hum, a gentle susurration that scratches at the back of my mind. Whatever else the rituals intended to do, make me a vessel perhaps, or just change me into what I am now…. I can, to some degree, manipulate blood. ..."

He ... is a blood mage, came the awed, quiet voice of Vitruvion.

And it made Stare going equally as speechless. Rare was it that anyone ever made the god become stunned. In his more than one hundred years of life, and with all the experiences he had seen of his father literally making life, Vitruvion was rarely shocked. It was in his nature to be above all surprise, above all shock. So when his voice came through like a mouse's, Stare was lost also. All of her questions vanished to meaninglessness, as she began to understand the potential power behind what had happened to Nevin.

I do not think so but ... check if he is lying.

Just as curious, Stare slipped into her aura sight. Still there was the light green halo around the alchemist, as well as the tear that was slowly fizzling out of sight right now. But also there was the pulsing light of an honest and true person, coming directly from his heart.

Which meant there was no doubt about it.

The gods be damned ... Vitruvion whispered. Maybe there is nothing I can do for him after all.

Stare slowly returned back to her normal vision. She apologetically bowed her head slightly to Nevin before offering a small sigh.

"I am sorry I made you tell me that," she replied. "But thank you. It is an honour to be in the presence of someone who has the potential for so much power ... but I have to apologise. He thinks he might not be able to help after all. It is ... complicated, blood magic is, of what the little I know of it ..." she smiled in her eyes and visibly relaxed a lot.

"Maybe then I need to tell you more about what I can do? But I am afraid to say it is not so as exciting."

Nevin slowly rolled down his sleeves, a rueful smile on his face. He left the gloves off though as he stepped behind the counter and began rummaging around beneath it. He brought up a small pale blue bottle and two glasses, which he set down on the counter top. Before he answered her, he opened the bottle and poured out a clear liquid - which even from feet away Stare would be able to smell as alcohol - into one of the glasses. He tossed the shot back and filled both glasses, pushing one gently towards her as he tried to calm the trembling running through his body.

"I... I thank your Master for even looking, but I think I already knew it was unlikely he could help. Even if he could somehow separate our souls -
I've lived for years now as who I am now. What might have been possible to undo at the start, most definitely no longer is. You're the first though." She was the first in several regards. The first to see the scars, the corruption that spread across his skin, the first not to flinch away at the mere mention of blood magic. But most definitely the first to say he had potential. The potent alcohol went down his throat as he emptied his glass again, his eyes watering slightly at the burning sensation.

"I don't know what those rituals were powered by, the books or manuscripts or however the cult learned of them were all destroyed when they performed their last ritual. For all I know, they knocked on the door of Something Else, and It found them wanting. Don't know why I survived it though." More alcohol went into his glass, and he leaned heavily on the counter in front of him.

"Come then, Miss Stare, tell me your tale. I've...well, I remember traveling more than a fair bit,
and I've heard many stories, some of them mundane and some bizarre. Only a few though, that have to do with souls." Despite the fact that he had had a fair amount of alcohol that night, Nevin's mind was still sharp as he focused his dark red gaze on her.

He said 'thank you,' she chided.

Vitruvion gave a mental, hmmmm, and leant back, showing him cupping the goblet at an angle to his body, the other arm tucked beneath the elbow. Steady. Aristocratic. Portraying the noble he had given himself the title for. Then he loosed two fingers from their careful grip on the goblet and like a true lord, gestured imperially. You may go on.

Grunting, as was her usual go-to response, Stare looked back directly at Nevin. And took in a long breath before reaching for the alcohol offered to her. Taking it up she chugged back the transparent liquid with one gulp and a very avian upraising of her beak. Her throat pulsated as the beverage moved down her throat and her stomach suddenly felt warm.

"What I do is not so much to do with souls as my eyes," she gestured a single clawed finger at one. Then, taking a pause she lowered her hand again, and set the glass back on the table. "For my own story there is nothing as dark as yours. As far as I have been told my parents began as a warrior and the daughter of a blacksmith." She lifted her eyes to steadily stare right at Nevin. "My people live in 'flocks' as I told you, with a shogun ruling each. What I did not say was that these flocks war with each other. A lot. My parent's clan, the Rooks, once battled with another about something like boundaries, and anyway, my twin elder brothers refused an order, my father begged for their lives, and our shogun's heir ended up dying. My brothers were blamed, my father also and our family ended up being made classless. That is, kerageta. It means 'dirt'."

She sifted slightly, dropping her eyes to the counter. "I was just a babe then, and my name was Avis." Steadily she traced a line in the knotwork. "One by one my family died, and by the time I was fourteen I was just by myself. I left the community of the lawless ones I had spent my life with and went travelling. I came to Beinost. And ... met a baker who took me in."

Raising her eyes back to Nevin she let her eyes shine for a bit. "Yes. I bake. Actually rather well, though I say so myself. I can also fight - my father taught me. Baking was my mother's lasting gift, how to handle knives was his. Anyway. A month or so passed and my ... appearance apparently caught someone's eye. I was kidnapped one day, and woke up underground bound in ropes." Her tongue clicked at the side of her beak as she reached back to see how Vitruvion was reacting to this, but he seemed perfectly calm. In fact he sent her a picture of his relaxed stance, with the amused smirk playing on his lips. Reminding her just how much she could not get away from him, the one who had ruined her life.

Waving a hand she sighed. "Anyway. I found out I was now in a place that they call the 'Hollow,' and was to ... basically be the sex slave of a maniac. My name was changed, to Stare. I was trapped there for ..." she counted off her fingers, "Four months about, raped, bound, caged, and beaten on fairly regularly basis, until the bastard realised I was suddenly, for the first time in my life, displaying signs of magic. There was a moment when I tried to escape ... that had its consequences of course, and I began to be taken on field trips, to go and be used as a weapon against his enemies. Eventually I apparently got too useful. I stupidly saved his life and he gave me this bloody present," she raised her left hand, finally letting the sleeve slip down to reveal the dull grey metal cuff on her hand.

"It allows him to see and hear everything I do, and to see my surface thoughts, though I never really know if he is there. It also allows us a mental connection." She could positively feel Vitruvion's pride at the creation of the cuff pulsing through her. He was grinning, thinking that it had been the greatest idea he had come up with in a good long time.

She sighed. "Anyway, yeah we discovered some stuff. That my people aren't from this world, and I found out just how powerful he is. I got promoted, which was nice, I guess. We also discovered that my magic is exponentially gaining in power rapidly, for reasons I understand but cannot go into. As I said they are to do with my eyes," she stared back at the quiet, still human. Her eyes caught his. "I can see a person's aura, their soul."

She tapped the glass, "Any chance for any more?"

Nevin felt an interesting array of emotions run through him as his guest spoke. Fascination at first, curiosity at the lifestyles of an alien culture that was even further removed from humans than Elves or Dwarves might be. This was replaced with an ache in his gut as he spoke of the loss of her family’s standing, their exile, and subsequent demises. The pain in her words even now as she spoke of being alone at such a young age, which was muted - muted, not replaced - by the happiness when she spoke of her adoptive mother, and her talent at baking.

All of that faded into a low fear when she mentioned being kidnapped. She spoke almost dismissively of a cruel treatment at the hands of the man who had taken her - somewhere in a tiny corner in the back of his head Nevin noted that at some level Kenku and… Another race, since she hadn't mentioned what her master was, could have intercourse, though this was the most disgusting way to learn that information - but even so, the fact that she had been abused and treated so maliciously had banished his dread that had been present at the start.

No. Kept firmly under lock and key was a cold rage, and simmering disgust. Not with Stare - not with Avis. He might call her Stare aloud, where her ever present master could hear, but as his eyes locked onto the cuff that bound her to the man, Nevin knew he would always refuse to truly think of her as that. His disgust and rage were focused on who had torn her from her previous life and made her his slave.

He wiped his face of any hints of emotion - not a hard task when he was already keeping his emotions in check - and knocked back another shot of the alcohol as she finished speaking, before her eyes focused on his face. He poured them both another glass of alcohol and sat quietly for a moment.

“You say that your tale is not as dark as mine, but from where I sit that's not so. Both of us lost the lives we had before, became new people who maybe only resemble those we were before. Who I was, no matter which individual you consider as my start, was quite literally killed when I was born. You were not so lucky. ” What Nevin voiced, left unsaid was not sympathy or pity - but commiseration.

He slowly swallowed his alcohol this time, letting the burn sit in his mouth for a moment before sliding down his throat. In a way, as much as he might have hoped that her ‘Master’ would have a way of freeing him from what he had become, he was also quite glad that even this powerful mage didn't think he could.

Nevin did not want to think about being in debt to that man. Instead he cleared away his anger, instead focusing on the information she had given him at the end. He made sure her drink was refilled before addressing her eyes.

“I wonder then, if the effect upon your eyes is tied to a genetic disposition - perhaps your parents had similar quirks? Or your brothers by chance; a minor oracular skill could have shown them that the order they disobeyed would lead to deaths, and sought to avoid it? Still, with no others left in the family, that would be impossible to determine.” This was said in a clipped tone - similar to when he had been taking notes earlier and muttering to himself. “Or perhaps it is tied to the connection between yourself and your Master - the bond between the two of you slowly feeding some of his power to you, adapting it to your body? Avians the non-sentient ones, are often noted for keen eyesight, this may be a magical evolution on that same concept. You're…” He shook himself abruptly, keeping himself from thinking about the bond in depth.

"Any time you've a wish for quiet company that will not judge you, or in any other case. You are welcome here, Miss... Stare. You've already seen the worst side of me, after all. No other secrets I need to hide." No other secrets, but a new goal, perhaps.

Stare chugged back the alcohol with ready willingness. As soon as she had finished it she set the glass down onto the worktop again and gestured for more. Nevin seemed eager to placate her, beginning after a moment of silence to talk.

He spoke of how they were both new people now. How he was a man of two lives and two memories and she was kenku born of strife and living with hatred. It was good and refreshing, the way he spoke, as if they shared a common pain. But even as he commented on how her part was worse in ways, she feverishly refused to accept it. Whatever it was, she had just been locked away for six months total. He, for sixteen years.

Nevin changed the subject with commenting on where her power might have come from. A welcome change, for it made Stare feel a little more hopeful as she chugged down get another shot of the clear alcohol. As he began to mention Vitruvion and his possible gifting of her abilities Stare's heart began to thump, scared in a second's length of momentum that wildly, Nevin might be able to guess the whole situation. That Vitruvion was a god. That her powers had shown up because his father had created her people. Because of a long history of the kenkus forgetting who they were. Because of all those years of lost power coalescing into one.

"Kenkus very rarely have power," Stare shook her head. "My brothers had nothing, I am sure of it. I don't even remember anyone having any magic. Aside from maybe the high priests. But that could have been simple tricks." She checked on Vitruvion for a moment, but felt no change. Still he sat, just simply listening. "I don't think that is right ...

"But your offer of a place here. That I would be grateful of. It is rare to find ... Kindred spirits in places. And if you ever need a huge library to get lost in ... I can offer you mine," she paused. "Well. His." She shrugged limply. "I guess I've told you my worst secret too. That I'm not even a free person. You know he actually has forged documents from a Keribas slaveport that has me declared as his property." She rolled her eyes. "What is it with meglomaniacs?"

She looked at him straight. "So tell me more. What else can you do with your blood magic? And I'll tell you more of what my eyes do."

"Hm. So only the divinely touched had any hint of magic? Strange." There was... something to that, he was sure, but Nevin couldn't place it, not yet. Instead he focused on the offer of the library to look through - and truth be told, the offer was tempting. There were probably interesting things held within those tomes - possibly places where he could get inspiration for his own magic? He was still developing it after all, the power still growing in new ways as he became more familiar with it. He let out a soft, dry chuckle at the question about megalomaniacs though.

"From what annals of history I recall, megalomaniacs are often that way for a few reasons. The most common? No one told them 'no' enough times when they were young. Though having forged documents is a feather in his cap - I don't think those are easy to come by." The second most common he didn't feel like bringing up with her - lack of parents in the young person's life. That...was a little too close to home for the both of them to not be a prickly topic. He filled her glass again and slowly sipped on his alcohol - they had burned through nearly half of the bottle on the counter, not that he was about to tell her that. If they needed it to get through this conversation, he had more. A moment was spent thinking about her last question, Nevin's eyes focused on the back of his hand as he swirled the alcohol in his glass.

"As for what my magic can do - it's still showing that to me. When I first figured out that I wasn't going crazy, I found out that I could..... amplify an aspect of a being's existence, distill a portion of what they were into a quantity of blood. For example - a venomous snake. A core aspect of what that snake is, is the venom that it carries in its fangs, no?" This... was the first time that he had had someone he could speak with about his magic without them seeming squeamish, or thinking him mad or evil. The prospect was invigorating, and it showed as his mood began to brighten. "Well. If I have the blood, or the blood-filled corpse, of such a snake, I can distill, quantify, imbue, a portion of the blood with the essence of that venom. Almost like I was taking the venom, but not quite - in the blood it is.... not quite the same, more magical in nature. After all, how can you have venomous blood? Poisonous perhaps. But the concept remains. Primarily what I use it for?" He gestured behind him, towards the cabinet where two crimson vials glowed slightly in the dusky light that filtered through the windows of the shop.

"I can take the vitality of most animals, and distill it into a fluid - a 'potion' - that can heal and mildly rejuvenate the body of the imbiber. That is the most crude and simplistic usage of the skill though. No, it expanded when I discovered that I could then take blood that I had distilled through the first manifestation of my power, and imbue that essence into something else. When this is done - well, it depends on what I've imbued with the blood. Experiments with alchemical reagents have shown that from then on, no matter what other steps I take in the process, using an imbued reagent will grant a reflection of the 'Essence' that was used to the concoction. Instead of one effect, I can compound two or more, even with simplistic, neutral herbs that are quite easy to procure." He drained his glass into his mouth and set it down, his eyes gleaming in excitement. "There's one more trick that I've managed to come up with, but first I'd here more of your eyes. They are...fascinating." He said this while staring at her, watching her expression. He knew that when it came to a topic he was passionate about he could go on extended diatribes - hopefully this hadn't put her off.

As soon as he said, "Divine," Stare froze. Caught in a moment of panic she tried to flounder about what she had said, digging around for the source of how she had let it slip out. She had been very deliberate, not aiming to speak of Vitruvion as a god, but rather as a powerful mage. That was all. In her imagined thoughts she could feel the bouts of pain that would rack her body when she got home, the torture, the horror, the possible death for letting Nevin know that Vitruvion was a god ...

Idiot. You told him that priests could do magic. That is the connection he made. Not to me. The man at the back of her mind leant back and rolled his eyes. Despite your flaws you have kept your promise to me, Stare.

A breath escaped her lungs. Dearly, she hoped that Nevin had not noticed. He had not seen her wife eyes and still form, or rather had just mistaken it for her normal strange ways. In any case, whether by politeness or else, he was continuing his speech. He was speaking of his powers, as she had asked him to, about how he could, for instance, take the poison from a snake's blood. Also, he was explaining, he could create healing potions and the like, by using the internal strength of the features he had placed in the blood potion. It could also be combined with herbs, apparently, and maybe potions. Stare was distracted now from her moment of panic, her mind suddenly wild with ideas.

"I'd like to know more about your eyes. They are ... Fascinating."

Certainly that they are, Vitruvion commented.

Stare consciously directed her attention to him. What?

My dear, you know why I promoted you from Hollow guest to steward. You are here to tell him about you. Now say what you wish. Elegantly, he gestured like before.

Stare blinked a few times but nodded. "I guess ... Well I can slip into what we tend to call the aura sight. That is where I see someone's soul. It appears as a sort of glow around their being ... Like an aura. Depending on what colour it is also lets me know what personality they have, what intentions they might have. You, for instance are a pale green." She paused. "You are pretty neutral in your opinion on laws, evil, how the world should be run, that sort of thing. But you do have a tendancy towards good. Also your heart has a white pulse to it. You are being honest with me. Every step of this conversation. And I know for definite you are male, are ... twenty one years of age. And your scar on your soul ... It appears like a rip, an open wound. The edges of it are raw like flesh with blood sometimes scattered there ..." She fell silent, rubbing a hand up her arm. As she did so she tugged her sleeves back down, hiding the cuff from view. Her eyes dropped to the drink on the counter and she watched the shimmers of white light wandering through it for a while.

"I can also see perfectly in the dark, see ... Heat. As in what forms are hot in a room, so what is a person, what isn't. I know, that one is weird. I'm still trying to comprehend it myself. But what I can also do is use my emotions to ... Impact my sight. So far I can stun a person, we have found I can distract a person. I can also ..." She shifted slightly. "Cause ... The skin to die. Vitru- my master or knobhead, whatever you want to call him, wants me to concentrate on this one."

She grabbed the bottle and poured them both another drink. "That's really it. So far. Though I think I'm starting to see what I can only describe as people's energies. As in, their flows of magic, owner or other. They have different colours too and flow like internally ..." she looked up at Nevin and realised she was rambling.

"Sorry. So, question. What do you think you could do with my blood then?"

So his soul shone as a pale green, with flashes of the trauma that happened bleeding through? Nevin would have been confused about that if Stare hadn't immediately talked about what that meant - and fairly accurately surmised his feelings towards the laws of the land and general morality. He did typically prefer to live and let live, and his ambition of making blood magic not something that was regarded with fear would probably make him more ‘good’ than not. Hm.

That her aura sight could verify if someone was telling the truth was an interesting concept. Was it based on what the person perceived as the truth? Or could her magic possibly somehow be ‘fact-checking’ as it were? It would be a conundrum and a half to check whether that was the case or not, as you'd have to find someone who believed something was true that you knew wasn't.

Her ‘heat sight’ was also intriguing, giving her a way of finding someone who was hiding that most had no way of countering. Was probably not good to rely on it overly much though, as magical constructs existed and he doubted that all of them gave off heat. Her description about the burgeoning ability to see magical abilities, that her power was still developing and branching off was fascinating though, and it made him wonder if there were other things she might be able to try doing with it.

“Have you been in situations where being able to see magic or the flows of energy in a person was necessary, to your mind? There is a chance that whatever is causing your eyes to develop and grow is tied to your desires, either conscious or unconscious.” That made the most sense to him - people adapted to situations, learning or developing the skills they needed to overcome an obstacle. Magic merely enhanced and expedited the process in his experience. It normally ended up as a product of the user’s environment and training. But…

“And have you tried seeing other things? Like perhaps, with training, you could see other emotions beyond honesty?” There were a few uses he could think of for that. Knowing when someone was harboring hostility, or fear? Could definitely lead to advantages in some situations. Then the explanation of how she could use her emotions to influence her ‘sight’ and his eyes went wide.

“Well. That's an entirely separate path of development, even if it seems like they're tied.” Nevin started drumming his fingers on the countertops as he organized his thoughts. “For example: the ability to see auras, the ability to see heat, the honesty checker, they are all… Receptive. They are inwardly expressed, and based on taking in information from another individual or the environment.” On the wood he had traced a line with one finger, then divided that line in half as he thought. As he spoke, he tapped on side of the dividing line for each of the abilities he mentioned.

“This other set though; stunning, distracting, and - I think the appropriate word is either putrefy or possibly necrotize - is in an entirely different category. These are more expressive, if you will, and based on affecting the subject of your gaze. Even though both branches of abilities are tied to your eyes, that is their only association with each other - unless perhaps you could find a way of focusing your Expressive gazes to work on individuals that match a specific criteria from your Receptive ones. A ‘judgement’ gaze if you will, maybe something to punish someone you knew was lying to you?” He realized he had gone off on a tangent and coughed into his hand. “Sorry.” A moment passed as he processed her final comment, his body stilling.

Nevin swallowed roughly once, then grabbed his glass of alcohol and poured it into his mouth, using the burn to banish the sudden dryness. He set the glass down with an unintentionally loud clink and stared at it for a long moment.

What could he do with her blood? That was a terrifying offer to him, not even thinking about what possible ‘Essences’ he could draw from it. He knew the blood of a living being was, for his powers, more potent than that of something that was dead, as his magic somehow kept the blood in that situation ‘alive’, still connected to the source. But… Did she really see him as so good, as to trust a blood mage with some of that precious fluid? It was…. A bit overwhelming to him, to be honest, and it took him almost a minute before he could speak, his voice thick with some emotion he couldn't place.

“I… The most direct answer to your question, is possibly this: an Essence that draws on one of your powers, but only one. Magic tends to be too potent to allow a mixing. But, it would potentially give the imbiber or recipient, for.. A time, one of your gazes.” And the scary thing was in this case, he didn't know how long the effect would last. He had refused to experiment with sentient blood of any kind, and stuck to working with animal blood, and those results usually only lasted for a short time. The one time he had worked with blood from a living animal, the Essence of Vitality that he had used had continued to empower him until he had forcefully cut the connection between them. He would have to figure out a way of imposing a limit on… Offered… Blood.

As he drifted from subject, accented with question and tone, Stare kept herself listening and attentive, her eyes never failing to meet his. Many times he paused, letting the silence extend for some considerable seconds, yet still she waited. She saw the quivering of his lips, the curiousity in his eyes as he had more to say, yet need the punctuation of silence to separate his thoughts. Carefully she listened and patiently she observed, waiting for the moment to answer, as he slipped from the certain topic of her seeing flows of power, to the idea of seeing other emotions. From the idea of her necrosis to a series of arrant thoughts connected. He seemed excited, intrigued and even apologised for rambling on, yet she was willing to listen and store her answers. She was only stunned when it came to his answer of her question. What he could gain using his ability from her blood.

“I … The most direct answer to your question, is possibly this: an Essence that draws on one of your powers, but only one. Magic tends to be too potent to allow a mixing. But, it would potentially give the imbiber or recipient, for ... A time, one of your gazes.”

So only one. And temporary likely. But unspecified if it would last more than once, how long for, and precisely how powerful they might be produced. Perhaps more powerful than hers were.

Imagine if he gained some of your blood, she whispered as a musing comment.

There was silence behind her mind, but she knew she was listening for his presence was clear. He did not have to let her know he was there, but in this moment in time, for this scene, he was. Mainly for the use of them sharing the conversation.

That is something not to be discussed now. A potential for looking into power later, but not until he has more control over what he can particularly gain. He seems far too vague to be trusted about it yet. His tone was condemning and uncertain. It was clear Stare was not the press the matter further. Therefore she didn't but kept the thought there.

Nevin quickly added more certainty to the matter of a single item of power. And then he stopped. His body relaxed, though he still had a tone in his voice that was thick with apprehension. Or ... Concern. Or something else. At least a tremor.

She paused.

Well? Answer him.

But do I give him my blood? she asked, confused.

There was a short silence. With the particular limits that he has already imposed, I think we can allow him this boon, Vitruvion advised. You have my permission. Just ... Do not give him too much. I want to be able to see what precisely he does with it.

An image of her watching later in the night, through the window and observing him appeared to her. Secret, silent, able to spy through the dark ...

"The ability to see energies, that is barely begun," she explained. "I cannot really answer your questions on that, but that is a guess. I think ... It might be something to do with what essences they possess, I think it might have something to do with their origins." She smiled fast with a glimmer in he eyes.

"No I have not tried to see other things. It is more a chance of telling if they are lying and it is constrained if they believe they are telling the truth. I don't know about other emotions ... Honesty is a concept, not an emotion sometimes." Pausing, she tried to remember what else he said, "Judgement ... I really do not know. I guess the nightmares thing is specifically designed for the individual, but honesty I have no power over what abilities I have."

She shrugged, then reached down to pluck her white-bladed elegant mythril dagger from her belt, and held it over the back of her hand, where the bumpy grey and dark blue skin barely pulsed with blood. But it was there.

"So. Do you have a jar or something then? How mucb would you need to truly test it out?"

Quote:

---

Feel free to bunny her cutting into her hand and filling a jar, or take the blood how he would usually do so. She'd give him a fair amount, even slightly more than she could bare.

---

Nevin's eyes went wide in shock. Not only was she alright with the concept of giving him some of her blood, she was ready and willing to do it now. He swallowed and shook his head once, twice to clear it of the cobwebs of astonishment that were fogging up his thought process, and actually focused on what she had said.

"Sweet crimson, no, not a jar! That would likely kill you!" The concept seemed to legitimately distress him. He turned and rummaged in a cabinet, pulling out a slender glass vial, capable of holding only a few ounces of blood. This was offered to her to examine the weight as he explained further. "My magic works by taking a portion of the blood and distilling it. Even this small vial takes what should theoretically be three times too much blood for it to hold - if I tried to take a jar's worth you might not have any blood left, and that is quite disastrous. I'd rather not lose someone I'd tentatively call friend to an accident." He grimaced, leaving unsaid that it would have been his own fault. She stared into his eyes and slowly cut a thin line in the back of her hand, and bright red welled up from beneath the dark skin. Nevin barely had time to blink before he cursed under his breath before taking the vial back from her and placing it next to the open wound. The crimson lines on the back of his hand began to glow a vibrant crimson hue as he pulled not on her life force but on his own to power the spell.

"Sanguine Anima Visum." The sensation that Stare would feel at this point would be decidedly odd, as Nevin's magic pulled some from her body. The life fluid flowed out from the cut and into the vial. As he had said more than should have stayed inside fit within the vial, almost six ounces worth. He pressed one thumb, a glowing red line running up the length of the digit, against the cut, blocking the flow of blood. This also cut the flow of his magic, and he stepped back, releasing her hand as he placed the vial on the counter top between them.

"That vial contains blood that should,if what I focused on was accurate, contain the essence of your soul or aura sight." That done, he grabbed the bottle of alcohol and poured the remainder down his throat, before pulling out a clear bottle contained a dark brown alcohol and uncorking that as well, pouring a shot into his empty glass. Nevin sat staring this alcohol for a minute, then his eyes began flicking back and forth between the vial, Stare, and his hand.

Carefully she watched his eyes, their rapid movements between her turtle-skin, clawed hand and the vial of deep red blood, now stoppered with a small brown cork. Her head tilted slightly as she looked into the crimson liquid, wondering exactly and honestly what treasures it held. Her beak opened slightly as she let out a string of questions to herself in kenku, mumbled and all to do with, "I wonder what I am, what this could do."

Carefully she eased her hand from under the alchemist's wrist, pausing a moment as she saw a small bead of blood begin to pool at the surface, shining and beautiful in its scarlet pearl. Then, quickly she grabbed a stretch of spare fabric from a belt pouch - cleaned already and prepared for such an occasion - and wrapped it around the wound. Her black eyes focused on it a moment, before she looked back up to Nevin and nodded, once.

"Those words you said," she spoke with intrigue. "What were they to do? They were not in a language I have heard."

"And I was only going to put some in a jar. Not fill it."

She lifted her shoulder and let them fall in a avian-like shrug. She breathed a couple of times, letting her eyes swim across the room to check if the amount had been too much. There was a moment where she thought all was fine. Then ... Looking closer she began to see fuzziness around the periphery of her vision. It was only faint at first, but then it became more serious as the swirling vortexes of colour that were the corner of her eye's sight became complicated. Matted. Bigger.

A strike of pain to her head, and it was not Vitruvion. It was her body panickily yelling out and saying, 'This is not good!'

Get out of there, Vitruvion commanded. Before he tries to help you and say 'I warned you.' It is simply wooziness, that is all. You will be able to conquer it very soon.

Mmmm, she grunted. And she folded her hands into fists. Straightening quickly she inclined her head to Nevin and said whilst the world swam around her, "Thank you. But I should go."

Though she thought she might be able to get away with just asking how he did his magic, rather than watching via the window. Spying, secretly, like the wolf in the night Vitruvion wanted her to be. Slightly, she swayed, but the steely grip she was determined to keep on her sanity and health was strong. Besides, she had been in much worse health before. Longingly she looked at the new alcohol on the table, but not knowing if it might make her situation worse or better she thought it better not to try. So she decided to go, follow Vitruvion's orders and maybe even come back tomorrow for more chat. As she thought about it more the memory of what he had said, what she had more or less glazed over before as she thought about the consequences of her actions, came to her.

Friend. He had called her his friend. Though he had been cautious in it and added the word 'tentatively' he had actually said it. And it made her heart beat faster.

There were very few who regarded her as such. Who she could regard as such.

Stare!

Right. She nodded again at the herbalist. "Yes, must go." Her vision was crooked, her body uncertain but she knew what she was being called to do. So she began to turn and leave the store of the new intrigue in her life.

He watched her quietly as she stood up, pressing a bandage to her hand, and spun his finger around the edge of his glass. Nevin had seen the way she seemed to sway as she looked at the vial of blood, and more so when she stood up. He wasn't surprised, honestly - it was impossible to prepare for the sensation of your blood being drawn unless you had had it happen before. She seemed eager, ready to get out of there, and he couldn't blame her. Even he was uncomfortable with blood magic at times, and he was the one who was working it!

"The words are a tool to help me focus my magic on the Essence I desire - in this case, 'Blood Soul Sight'. They are the words of the cult that did this to me. Shelf on the left side of the door, the blackish red tonic there is an iron supplement that should help with the lightheadedness you're feeling now. Take it as you go - you can consider it as a gift for allowing me your company and this." One pale, red-lined finger tapped the vial of swirling blood, before Nevin picked up the glass shot of amber alcohol and drained it. His voice was very soft as he spoke.

"Goodnight, Stare." Goodbye, Avis.


~Fin~

Time passed. Each minute as painful as the last, growing with uncertainty and shame. But she left. And took the iron liquid with her, sweeping it back into her throat as soon as she left the store. Once outside she paused, taking in the street, the few people, the world, before she stood up straighter and began off.

Rest, but stay close, the advice - no, the order now, he was giving her orders - came.

Barely able to fight, in physical strength as well as knowledge that he would crush her, Stare grunted, and moved. She could feel the iron beginning to take effect - already she was feeling a certain strength return to her fingers. But it would still be a while before she could properly gain the complete control over her sight and form. Truly, she was grateful for the supplement, that had been a true gift, and it made her want to stay with Nevin longer. Talk over their pasts, their lives and their victories. Share opinions, seek each others advice ... Just banter. But that was not to be. That was not possible at this point. Therefore she left, dragging her clawed feet along the dirty cobbles and headed to the closest pub.

For a full half an hour she stayed there. She did not talk to Vitruvion, and he offered nothing, aside from a visual reminder she was to return and observe the herbalist through the window. Uncertainly, she sat in the darkest corner of a new bar and drank water, drowning her existence in it. Her heart beat steadily again and a steadiness of sight came back. Time passed, each minute as painful as the last, and she knew she had to return.

It was dark outside now, but the glory that was her eyes allowed her to see clearly from finding the slightest of illuminations and feeding from them. By the light of the stars, disappearing sunlight and some lamps Stare walked back to the herbalist's store whilst Vitruvion waited.

Both silent. Both of very different emotions. She felt like she was betraying her potential new friend, and the god felt no guilt at all. Only curiousity. Only power.

Window.

Carefully she made her way to the front window, going as quietly as she could, her heart sinking. Swallowing, she uncomfortably made her way there, hand gripping onto the hilt of her dagger just in case, hating herself more and more. Getting past the obscuring reflection of the glass in the window was hard, meaning she needed to get as close as she was physically able. It meant more chance of being seen, but there was no real light coming from inside the shop front and so she had to try to see by her own will. Had to get close. Had to -

A sigh escaped her lips. The shop front was entirely empty. No Nevin and no vial. Nothing to even hint that he had taken her blood, but just a simple, ordinary herbalist's store, with the same bottles and clear worktop as before.

Heat?

She switched into her heated vision, being able to see by a different sort of light altogether, and she found there were no obvious sources of heat in close proximity. Only a faint red glow towards the back and up of the store, but a source that was doing nothing. Just ... Still. Only breathing. Nothing that could give her any information.

Satisfied, she smiled and did not hide her joy.

Vitruvion, on the other hand, was irritated. Damn.

If you had left me stayed we could have seen it. I could have asked, she said.

Yes, whatever, the god spat into her mind. Look at you, more right than I for a single time in an eternity.

Stare rolled her eyes but started to dig at her belt. Where a small back was attached to. Carefully she began to remove paper, a stick of graphite.

What are you doing? he asked.

Writing a note ... Unless you object to me trying to keep friends with him. You want to know more right?

Vitruvion was silent for a while, then he growled. Very well. Apologise. But your holiday is over. Come back tomorrow, I have need of you.

You always apparently do, she muttered and wrote. Then slid the paper under the door.

'Sorry for leaving so fast. I'm staying at the Mayflower Inn tonight, but heading back to Beinost in the morning. Should you ever want to write to me, or come to Raieara, then you will need this address:

Ellsmith Manor House
Seat of Sir Vitruvion Ellsmith
Raeberry Street
Council District
Beinost

Your friend, Stare..'

-Fin on this side :P -

Thread: A Bloody Good Time
Type: No Judgment

Nevin receives 2065 EXP and 285 GP.
Stare receives 2850 EXP and 285 GP.
Jethro receives 270 EXP and 40 GP.

The following spoil request has been approved:
Essence of Soul Sight (Stare's Blood)

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All rewards have been added.