Like Wheat to A Thresher [Closed]

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s heart raced as he stumbled through the thicket, sweat drooping from his brow as he collapsed with a shout. He pulled his feet together and fought to stand again, his aching muscles protesting as the Breath Of the Undying coursed through his body, green eldritch energy phasing around a multitude of wounds. His lungs burned with exhaustion, each breath a labored hoarse rasp as he began to crawl forwards into a slow trot.

Cling clang go the chains; Someone's out to find you

Jensen’s body shuddered as the unmistakable sound of metal clinging against metal echoed behind him. The grass shifted as soft feet pondered forwards, a grin full of malice as wide as the face would allow haunted the immortal. Three chains slithered like snakes before him, urging and snapping to life as they whipped brushes and tree limbs away.

Cling clang oh the chains; The warden's right behind you

Jensen roared with energy, attempting to escape as a fresh burst of speed pushed him past his limits he long ago crossed. He had to make room, break away, escape. Sei Orlouge had to know! He couldn’t fail! His little treasure, Azza was waiting with Hot Cocoa like she promised. He pushed past a tree, tripping on a root and tumbling forwards, cursing loudly as he snapped his head up, looking towards the sound of the clanging chains.

Quick now, the seeking chains; Approach with their shrill scrape; Don't stop, flee the chains; Your last chance to escape

Jensen pushed his body up, his arms visibly shaking as he fought with his own will power to stay aloft. Green sparks of energy illuminated his body as the immortal’s back arched, fingers curling in agony as he let out a silent scream. He drunkenly moved forwards, each step heavy and forced as he tried to flee his pursuer. He pinched his flesh to be sure this nightmare wasn’t real, but all he received was an audible warning his pursuer was near.

Jensen turned to see the man behind him, smile full of malicious intent as he sent the three chains outwards, the rusted metal attempting to wrap around his torso and wrists. He fought them off, spinning in a wild dodge as he tumbled back to his knees, breaths heavy as he felt his leg snap and tug. He looked to see all three chains had captured him.

Drag the chains, drag the chains; With all the strength you may

Jensen fought with all his might, he pulled at a tree root to keep himself from being dragged away. His fingers dug into the earth, tearing the dirt in gouges as he ripped a finger nail to prevent his capture. One of the chains unwrapped and grabbed at his arm, snagging his wrist. Jensen fought like a fish on a hook. With one last push he serrated his flesh from the metal grip, crying in pain as white hot shooting tremors told him he ripped clean to the bones.

Drag the chains, drag the chains; 'ere they drag you away

Jensen sprinted with all the grace of a wounded gazelle. He crashed fully into trees, bushes, stumbling and collapsing with exhausted breaths as the wind pushed him to keep running. Yet with each encouraging push, he could hear the looming cling clang of the weapons his pursuer utilized. Jensen wrapped himself around a thick tree, slowly pulling out his last weapon he had on hand; Seth Dahlio’s dagger he gifted the immortal.

Cling clang go the chains; There's no more time for fear

Jensen could hear the rustling of the brush as his captor arrived, and he prepared to give up his immortal soul in a final push for freedom, he prepared fresh air in his lungs for a defiant laugh in the face of his doom, silently praying to the Four Horseman to protect his daughter without him to be there.

Cling clang go the chains

The chains whipped upwards before Jensen could even move, his torso wrapped around and shoved into the trunk. Another chain hog tied his feet, dragging them out from under him as he was held aloft by his own weight as a final one wrapped slowly one link at a time around his neck, almost like a seductive lover stroking his chin.

The last sound that you'll…

The end of the link entered into his mouth, eyes watering as the man who chased him appeared before Jensen, a single silhouette of green balefire illuminating the area from a lantern in his free hand. His hair was lined with chains, hooked at the ends and he wore a collar of the chains origins like a brooch. His arrogant smile grew wider, the lantern lifting as Jensen tried to look away. His body went slack when he looked into the Lantern, however, and soon everything he knew dusted away into a slow grey haze.

…hear

[Enigmatic Immortal]

6 Months Prior

Two Weeks after The Longest Night

Jensen’s eyes blinked rapidly as the sun rays disturbed his sleep. His aching head protested against the illumination of the mid morning light, snarling and grabbing a pillow firmly planting it on his face. Feeling a bit better he closed his eyes and prepared to fall asleep for seven or ten more hours when a slender, gentle caress touched his unshaven cheek, petting him affectionately before tipping the pillow off his head.

“You’re late, Love,” an elvish sing-song voice whispered to his ear. The Immortal angrily grabbed for the pillow, but the gentle hand snaked out and pulled it away from his groggy grip. “Sei wanted you in that meeting forty minutes ago.”

“They all start the same,” Jensen yawned turning to look into the crystal like blue eyes of the Silver-white haired maiden sharing his bed. “Sei yammers on about the Ixian projects, discusses matters of military and how he’ll control all of Corone, and then we finally get to the good parts.”

“I would think those parts would be considered the bad ones,” Erissa Caedron muttered to herself as she ran a hand through her hair. “Nevertheless,” she piped, tapping his shoulder. “You placed yourself in charge with Aislinn and Adolph to locate and stop Cassandra Remi’s rebirth to godhood. You should be present for the meetings to keep a competent standing within the meeting halls.”

“Those meetings are boring as shit,” Jensen whined. He turned to the edge of the bed, his feet touching the cold stone floor sending pleasant shivers up his bones. He stood, approaching his closest and grabbing the freshly laundered linens of his black pants and stretched the shirt over his scarred frame. “They aren’t nearly as fun now that Zerith and Seth are gone.” Jensen recalled the dreaded Night of Debauchery with a scowl as he fixed his hair and approached a wash bucket, damping the towel and cleaning his face.

It was only a few weeks prior, the night Cassandra Remi and her Cult of Blessed Torture ransacked Ixian Castle. She killed dozens, her cult murdering hundreds in the war as families were stripped apart never to be whole again. Children kidnapped, women raped, and men’s lives ended in an instance of madness...and the greatest shocks were not to be those atrocious acts. William Arcus, one of the Nine, had betrayed the prophecy and let that vile bitch Cassandra into the castle, destroying wards that protected the place from intrusion. And when Jensen had at long last cornered Cassandra, eyes filled with triumph to kill her, he was stabbed in the back by Seth Dahlios, who killed the immortal so she could escape.

Not the best of days, Jensen mused grimly. In order to keep the demi-goddess from becoming a full fledged goddess Sei created the group to hunt her down led by Adolph Gretzle, Aislinn Orlouge and Jensen himself. Jensen finished wiping his face looking into the mirror, his eyes filled with determination to hunt that bitch down and kill her for good.

He turned to see Erissa half dressed holding his jacket towards him and the two shared a knowing look. Not many words needed to pass between the two since their run in with Oblivion, the Fifth member of Xem’Xund’s forgotten. Instead they embraced, holding the other tightly as Jensen leaned back, pinching her cheek and giving her a wink. “Soon, soon she’ll be found and things will be back to just crazy.”

“Not normal?” the elf giggled.

“Never normal,” Jensen replied heading to the door. “Don’t wait up for me tonight...in fact you should visit Troyas or something...I have a feeling I’ll be gone for a while.” The immortal lifted a hand to his head, feeling the tingling sensation of Sei sending him a message. “Go for it, Sei,” Jensen said to nobody in particular.

“Jensen, we have a lead on Cassandra, start heading towards Concordia, a travel bag will be waiting at the gate and I’ll fill you in on the mission telepathically.” Jensen nodded as he turned back to his beloved. He held one hand out to her, and she quickly ran to him, holding him tightly.

“I love you,” she whispered to his ear.

“As do I you,” Jensen replied, holding her tightly. He released her slowly, turning to his door. “On my way Sei."

[Enigmatic Immortal]

The Concordia Forest was usually for Jensen the trip of a lifetime. He enjoyed the peaceful serenity of the way the light broke through the cracks in the foliage, casting different tones of shadows in an artful display on the floor before him. There were main paths, side paths, travelers paths, merchant paths and hidden paths strewn all over the labyrinth like maze. You could get anywhere you wanted to in Corone through the forest, and you probably had seven different ways to get you there.

It was also probably the point why everyone used the place for bandit hiding posts, and setting up camps for wars. Somewhere deep in the darker portions of the forest were the Giant Concordia spiders, colossal sized beasts used in the Night of Debauchery by Cassandra’s ilk. There were hydra’s nesting closer to the Comb Mountains, and of course the most vicious of animals made it a point to travel the roads for stragglers and weaklings. Jensen recalled being a meal for such predators more than once.

Today’s adventure though led him on a wide path, easily capable of allowing two carts to pass one another in harmony. He’d been travelling for a week and half now since Sei last contacted him. The beaten road had little dust left to kick up and the road was relatively clean of leaves that were kicked away. He let the breeze swarm through his head, tickling his scalp as his long strands blew back and forth behind his ears, the warmth of the day tantalizingly calling him to a mid-afternoon slumber. Eyes were shutting fast and the immortal decided to go over his mission brief again in the hopes to keep himself awake for the last leg of his journey.

The Warden, as his alias went by, was someone Cassandra hired to keep the lunatics of her Cult in check. It needn’t be said that it takes a sick psychotic individual to keep deranged insane people that Cassandra keeps as her comrades in line. Little is known about this particular fellow. The last reports of him, from Talen’s information team, had determined that this madman just recently joined the Cult of Blessed Torture under Cassandra’s personal invitation. He had a particular set of skills she was interested in, and that was more than enough for Sei to send Jensen off to detain the Warden.

His last appearance was in a small rural town near the town of Valdta, one of the Ixian Knights strongest outposts. There the Warden had determined the spy Talen sent. He hastily tossed a report out before he went silent, and Jensen had no illusions to the man’s current fate. He probably was killed; butchered in a fashion that would please the demi goddess, and left to rot. Jensen’s blood boiled thinking of the atrocities committed by the Cult, and his fingers flexed in rage. They would pay, that was for certain.

Jensen closed his eyes, recalling the wall of names lost in the Night of Debauchery, filling his soul with righteous anger that made his blood sing with battle lust. He opened his eyes to the cresting ridge, seeking out the village where the bastard hid, and located the top of a particularly nice two story house. The village before it was full of one story sheds, families moving about their business as carts moved in and out of stalls. The people had a look upon their faces the immortal had seen before. Lucid, detached care; apathy for world around them. They were broken individuals, beaten and torn asunder by events they will not dare repeat aloud. Children seemed to be the only source of life, though they too had a dejected, slack jawed look to their features as well.

Blacksmiths opened their doors letting black smoke flow into the air, looking to Jensen with suspicion as they pulled on long chains, lifting up gaping mouths of liquid metal. The haze fogged the air before them, and Jensen wiped his hand through the mist to get a clearer look.

“You shouldn’t stop and stare.” Jensen continued to peer closer into the stall, seeing they were making chains on the smithy table. “I’m warning you mister,” the voice of a small girl grew closer as Jensen turned to see her dirty face look up to him, her blond hair covered in mud. “He doesn’t like visitors in his home.”

“Who’s he?” Jensen asked looking to the village people. Nobody seemed to care of Jensen being there. He looked back down, and her eyes were filled with a fear that shook her to her core.

“The Chain Man! He drags the chains, run from the chains!” she mimicked chains dragging through the ground. “He’ll capture you within them, and you won’t escape! He’ll take you away and make you his slave!”

“That so?” Jensen cocked his head to the mansion. “Then maybe somebody should step up and fight him.” Jensen adjusted his knapsack and made way for the mansion. The girl rushed next to him, pleading with him as she began to sing in a children’s melody.

“Cling clang go the chains; Someone’s out to find you! Cling clang oh the chains; the warden’s right behind you!” Jensen turned to the girl again, kneeling down and looking her in the eyes.

“You said the Warden?”

“Yeah, it’s the song the kids sing to warn travelers.” Jensen looked up to the mansion again, noticing for the first time that the house was lined with chains of varying lengths, each ending with a hook. He peered to the window, and narrowed his sight. “He’ll get you mister! You should leave now before he sets his sights on you!”

Jensen patted the little one on the shoulder, and he rose looking to the lowering sun. Perhaps in the middle of the night he would strike, it had seemed like a good plan. Jensen looked around the place, and nodded as he headed forwards. “I’m immortal girl,” he replied. “There is nothing he can do to me…”

[Enigmatic Immortal]

In the darkness of the night Jensen moved, the wind slowly rustling the chains against one another like wind chimes. The lighting in the house was dark, as if empty, and he moved in careful patterns to stay always within the shadows. The first few windows he tried were chained shut, making Jensen grin inwardly at the multitude of jokes he could think of, but instead he kept quiet, keeping his calm demeanor. Any member of the Cult of Blessed Torture needed to die first before insulting them. They had a nasty habit of winning in the end with the last laugh.

His fourth window gave the immortal the break he was looking for, finding a pathway that led right into a hallway. He carefully used his sharpest knife against the glass, making a jagged line across it that made his ears sing. When he was done, he flicked the glass at the bottom with his finger, dislodging the piece so it fell into his hand. Carefully he undid the lock from his new hole, moving the window up.

His first step into the house of the Warden was wet, and Jensen half expected blood. The splashing noise it made concerned him a little, but it was far too smooth for blood. He looked to see had stepped into the wash basin. Rolling his eyes he moved forwards, dagger at the ready as he stepped onto the floor, his boot squishy from the water. A puddle formed beneath the immortal as he drained his foot out, and within seconds he was on the move.

The house was dark, but rather well furnished. A plush carpet ran the length of the hall, making Jensen’s footsteps muffled. Easily he snuck towards the source of sound, a music box of sorts playing a haunting melody amidst this backdrop. Jensen was led to a set of stairs that spiraled towards what looked like a fire place. Easily he moved down them, listening to the eerie noise of the music box. When he reached the final flight Jensen saw the fireplace before him, illuminated by red flames but a creepy green aura washed over the fireplace.

Jensen felt his heart begin to beat rapidly as the music box played softly louder, the chains outside rustling more and more. Despite being far from the metal outside they were hauntingly loud and clear. Jensen’s eyes were unable to look away from the green light, trying to find the source. He walked into the room, oblivious to the dangers he passed as his mind began to fog, filled only with the music and rustling chains. He approached the chair of his mark, and with a lung and scream he stabbed forwards, through the fabric and fluff and hit metal. The green light shifted, and Jensen felt a measure of success before he heard something scrape across the floor.

He turned swiftly, far quicker than the Warden expected, but it was too late. He was a smooth skinned, pale elf with jagged scars on his face where a chain ripped through his flesh. He smiled, a haunting smile with filed teeth, his white hair in a neat pony tail, wrapped in chains. Jensen saw little else as he barely parried the first chain. The man wore a collar around his neck, covered in three chains. The second chain slithered upwards like a snake, the first one returning as the third softly rose to the air.

“Welcome,” the Warden said softly. “Welcome to my home. Welcome to your home.” Jensen gave him a confused look, a bead of sweat dripping down his side. The whole atmosphere unsettled the immortal, and he couldn’t understand why he was so terrified. “You’ll like it here, Jensen Ambrose,” he whispered, the chains slowly moving again. Jensen narrowed his stance. “There is plenty of room in my Lantern for an immortal soul…”

Before Jensen could speak the chair fell backwards, hamstringing Jensen’s left leg. He collapsed to a knee, the warden’s hand lifted outwards as if to grasp something. A wrought iron lantern lifted into his hand, the same metal you would find on a cemetery gate. The green light flashed over Jensen and he felt hundreds of people suddenly scream in eternal torment. Jensen’s mind collapsed from the sudden trauma of the noise and he screamed in horror and pain, tripping backwards.

Calmly the Warden stepped forwards. “Don’t you want to join them, Jensen? Do you not want to save them?”

Jensen’s body felt cold and clammy, sweat covering his back and face. Yet his martial instincts took over, his foot kicking out and tripping the warden. When the lantern fell to the floor the screaming stopped and Jensen felt his body warm quickly.

“No!” The Warden cried as green lights poured out of the open cage. He slammed them shut, his chains around his collar collecting the fragments of what Jensen could only describe as the souls of this mans victims. He looked to Jensen in the eyes, his scowl capable of splitting stone. “The Dark Mother promised me your immortal soul. I plan to collect it. Now come Jensen, your new home awaits you!”

Jensen kicked again, aiming for the lantern but the Warden removed it from harm quickly. Jensen spun to his feet, rushing quickly forwards as the rustling chains outside began to thrash against the house as if they became snakes.

He ran up the stairs, the haunting laughter of a hunter on the move after frightened prey.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

The immortal ran, the chains breaking glass and coming alive as they flayed Jensen’s skin, trying to hook him into one place. He moved towards the nearest door, whichever one he could find as he moved as fast as possible. He escaped out the back door into Concordia’s massive forest.

Cling Clang go the chains; The warden’s out to get you

Jensen’s heart raced as he stumbled through the thicket, sweat drooping from his brow as he collapsed with a shout. He pulled his feet together and fought to stand again, his aching muscles protesting as the Breath Of the Undying coursed through his body, green eldritch energy phasing around a multitude of wounds. His lungs burned with exhaustion, each breath a labored hoarse rasp as he began to crawl forwards into a slow trot.


Jensen’s body shuddered as the unmistakable sound of metal clinging against metal echoed behind him. The grass shifted as soft feet pondered forwards, a grin full of malice as wide as the face would allow haunted the immortal. Three chains slithered like snakes before him, urging and snapping to life as they whipped brushes and tree limbs away.

Cling clang oh the chains; The warden's right behind you

Jensen roared with energy, attempting to escape as a fresh burst of speed pushed him past his limits he long ago crossed. He had to make room, break away, escape. Sei Orlouge had to know! He couldn’t fail! His little treasure, Azza was waiting with Hot Cocoa like she promised. He pushed past a tree, tripping on a root and tumbling forwards, cursing loudly as he snapped his head up, looking towards the sound of the clanging chains.

Quick now, the seeking chains; Approach with their shrill scrape; Don't stop, flee the chains; Your last chance to escape

Jensen pushed his body up, his arms visibly shaking as he fought with his own will power to stay aloft. Green sparks of energy illuminated his body as the immortal’s back arched, fingers curling in agony as he let out a silent scream. He drunkenly moved forwards, each step heavy and forced as he tried to flee his pursuer. He pinched his flesh to be sure this nightmare wasn’t real, but all he received was an audible warning his pursuer was near.

The immortal turned to see the man behind him, smile full of malicious intent as he sent the three chains outwards, the rusted metal attempting to wrap around his torso and wrists. He fought them off, spinning in a wild dodge as he tumbled back to his knees, breaths heavy as he felt his leg snap and tug. He looked to see all three chains had captured him.

Drag the chains, drag the chains; With all the strength you may

Jensen fought with all his might, he pulled at a tree root to keep himself from being dragged away. His fingers dug into the earth, tearing the dirt in gouges as he ripped a finger nail to prevent his capture. One of the chains unwrapped and grabbed at his arm, snagging his wrist. Jensen fought like a fish on a hook. With one last push he serrated his flesh from the metal grip, crying in pain as white hot shooting tremors told him he ripped clean to the bones.

Drag the chains, drag the chains; 'ere they drag you away

Jensen sprinted with all the grace of a wounded gazelle. He crashed fully into trees, bushes, stumbling and collapsing with exhausted breaths as the wind pushed him to keep running. Yet with each encouraging push, he could hear the looming cling clang of the weapons his pursuer utilized. Jensen wrapped himself around a thick tree, slowly pulling out his last weapon he had on hand; Seth Dahlio’s dagger he gifted the immortal.

Cling clang go the chains; There's no more time for fear

Jensen could hear the rustling of the brush as his captor arrived, and he prepared to give up his immortal soul in a final push for freedom, he prepared fresh air in his lungs for a defiant laugh in the face of his doom, silently praying to the Four Horseman to protect his daughter without him to be there.

Cling clang go the chains

The chains whipped upwards before Jensen could even move, his torso wrapped around and shoved into the trunk. Another chain hog tied his feet, dragging them out from under him as he was held aloft by his own weight as a final one wrapped slowly one link at a time around his neck, almost like a seductive lover stroking his chin.

The last sound that you'll…

The end of the link entered into his mouth, eyes watering as the man who chased him appeared before Jensen, a single silhouette of green balefire illuminating the area from a lantern in his free hand. His hair was lined with chains, hooked at the ends and he wore a collar of the chains origins like a brooch. His arrogant smile grew wider, the lantern lifting as Jensen tried to look away. His body went slack when he looked into the Lantern, however, and soon everything he knew dusted away into a slow grey haze.

"Hear..." The Warden mocked...

[TwinCast]

It had taken countless days of tracing the winds of magic. At first the pattern was sporadic, moving slowly about the maps she had of the surrounding area. Progress was something akin to a turtles pace, if the turtle was also dragging a cart of stones. While it could move it slowly each day, it was not going to finish the task with any meaningful speed. She continued listening to the winds, hearing their counsel on the matter as she sang softly the nights respite.

“We found him,” She could smell the grave soil that marked the presence of Shyish the wind of Death. She nodded softly before the sun finished setting and she concluded her song. Carefully brushing strands of crimson hair from her face she bowed deeply to the winds as they whipped about her. Finally she felt the air grow deathly still and rose up to her full height.

“What did you find?” The words were said with grave reverence, even as she felt the winds whip about her. They seemed to pull and tug at her clothes playfully before the air went dead once more.

“We found the life you seek; it was hidden in an area of great death. It seeks to hide amongst the energy of the dead, and does so well for magic would be overpowered by the mark of death there. It hides brazenly in plain sight, seeking to use the public face to hide his true appearance and motives. This one is a bringer of death a reaper in its own right. Why do you seek the soul?”

“He holds answers, answers and a solution to several mysteries. I refuse to allow such an opportunity to pass. Is there anything else I should know about him?”

“He has been touched by Shadows…” This voice was quieter, colder. It seemed to come from the shadows as it spoke, Ulgu continued, “The contact was the briefest of brushes, and last occurred many months ago. One of my children has been observing him, prodding him, pushing him to his limits.”

“I would only surmise that would be Cassandra Remi’s Dark Companion. She has been known to be strongly tied to this individual,” Was the supplied answer.

“It sought to break this life. It did not know the truth, one cannot break what is already broken,” The fresh breeze that hit her seemed to smell of spring and renewel, this one had to be Ghyran speaking plainly for the first time in a while. She still had not born the child she had promised she would one day in direct service to the Breath of Life. It was for this reason the wind seldom responded at all.

“He is broken?” The question was fraught with emotions. Some in anger and resentment, he was the enemy after all. This man had destroyed someone she cared about greatly. Jensen Ambrose was almost a brother to her; such was her thoughts on the matter. It was only the desperation of finding the Immortal that brought her to such an act. Following his path was a dangerous road. One she was loathe to do herself, but in the end she could only think of one person in this world that would be able to walk the path of the Jester.

“He broke long ago, shattered himself to protect his offspring. This is the path of a true parent, to destroy everything about them to protect their kin. That such a kin deserves this loyalty, we do not agree. He is blind and foolish, bold when wise to be humble, ruthless when mercy should be shown. He serves his own agenda, that of a chaos he will weave into the immortal tapestry,”

She nodded firmly before she said softly, “For what do I owe this information?”

“This is the path of your destiny. One cannot hold such a path hostage unless one wishes to be trod upon for obstructing it. We shall take you to him. We shall protect you from him, and we shall warn you of his intentions. Do not mistake this for kindness, you and him are more closely tied than you realize oh Witch.”

She took a steadying breath and spoke firmly, “Take me to the Lavinian Demon, wherever he may hide.”

[Dissinger]

“I should kill you for flushing me out you know.”

Dust clung to everything in the room. From the crates that sat half open to the very man that sat upon one. In the wan light of the lantern a baleful glare looked out from under a hat. It generated a musty scent that filled the air, making it hard to breathe at times. Each movement sent a cloying cloud of dust upwards to join the already thickening haze of dirt in the air.

“I needed your help, and truthfully if I could rely on another I would have done so,” The response came tersely from lips that had the man been younger might have been called beautiful. His eyes merely drilled into hers, as she looked about the area, “Though I should have guessed you would be raiding the Ixian Knight’s reserves in the catacombs while searching for Cass-“

“You came for a reason witch, spit it out,” The man shifted bringing more dust up into the area as a knife came to life. It twirled in a lazy dance occasionally flipping and pirouetting when deemed fanciful enough. The ice blue eyes of the witch remained fixed on the blade as she spoke;

“Jensen is in trouble…”

“He’s a big boy, he can sleep off the worse of it-“

“You don’t understand, he won’t walk away from this one-“

“I highly doubt there isn’t a thing you can mention I couldn’t tell you how he’d escape.”

“He went after the Warden,” Aislinn explained. Lady Orlouge of Castle Ixia seemed emphatic about this information. The man shifted subtly before he shook his head;

“You stumped me on that one, I’ll give you that. Even I know better than to face off against that abomination,” Seth responded. He got up and reached into a crate pulling a small bag of trail mix before he grabbed a handful and stuffed it into his face. Following it up with a draught from his water skin he wiped his lips on the back of his gauntlet before he looked at her, “That’s why you’re here; you think I can actually do something about it.”

“He once counted on you as a friend; you’re the only one I can think of that could follow after Jensen. I would have asked Stephanie but she’s dead and Adolph doesn’t have enough knowledge of dark arts to fight the warden if he left,” The Scarlet Witch pleaded her case. He could almost taste the desperation so tangible had it become. She was but a mere moments away from grabbing him to beg. It was pathetic to the thief, and all he could do not to backhand her and walk out.

He could feel his need to vent wrathful vengeance upon the Cult of Blessed Torture coloring his mood. He hated to admit it but he might have taken her up on the job, even without the prospect of helping Jensen. His eyes narrowed before he spoke, “Sei, he could have forced the Warden into a fair fight and done it, why not your esteemed Uncle?”

“Sei has too much work to accomplish with tracking down Cassandra and the rest of the Cult. Jensen was tasked with eliminating a more public element of her flock. When his body returned to Castle Ixia there was something wrong with it…”

“His body came back? Then jobs done, he’s home just wait for a resurrection,” Seth replied dismissively. A hand waved to send her on her way and he turned his back to his pack, preparing to move on now that his hiding place had been exposed. He continued to work. Knowing damn well she hadn’t moved before he looked up to the ceiling for strength and muttered, “What? What went wrong?”

“There was no passion, no drive, nothing from the man that woke up. It was as if the very essence of Jensen was stolen away and all we got was an immortal container for it,” Aislinn explained.

Seth’s shoulders slumped as he looked into his pack. He looked back over his shoulder with a dirty look before he muttered about red headed pushy witches, perhaps he had said another word, but both were willing to play the game of ignorance as he closed his bag. When he spoke his tone was educational, “His mentor was a necromancer credited with creating the first Reliquary of Souls. He was a bit of an artist as well and created a lantern to house the magics.”

“This man was part of Morian Fleshbane’s think tank, a genius beyond his years. Used to creating soulless homunculi he was researching a method of creating new bodies for the Necromancers allowing them to cheat death without the frailty of an undead form. The crux of the issue was he had no way of storing a soul once he had ripped it from its body. Apparently in some sick desire to procreate he used his own blood as a catalyst for homunculi and created a son of sorts. This son was without drive or purpose so long as it had no soul. The issue became in that it had developed a personality, one that overwrote any soul placed in the body,” He explained.

“It rebelled,” Was the guess. He shook his head slowly before he continued;

“It did more than rebel; I think the dark corners of Althanas could sleep better not knowing what that thing did to its master. Needless to say it took the lantern and left after learning how to put souls into the reliquary. I don’t mess with the damn thing despite knowing exactly where it is. I made that sort of power play once and my parents paid the price. I shudder to think what would happen if I got anywhere near the Warden.”

“The Lavinian Demon is afraid?”

“The Lavinian Demon isn’t stupid. I sell pieces of my soul for magic and you want me to take on a man that is known for his manipulation of souls. You can count me out, I have better things to do,” Was the response. He shouldered his bag and prepared to go before the witch got in his way. He looked her firmly in the eyes before he spoke, “Out of my way. I will not say it again.”

“I need your help, I will pay any price, just help me!”

The desperation finally hit that frenzied pitch he had anticipated.

“No. That’s my final answer. I refuse to put my life on the line for Jensen. I already gave you damn knights enough. All you had to do was keep my daughter safe, and you couldn’t even do that right. What makes you think I’m in the mood to do your ass any favors?”

To her credit she didn’t move. As he began to pull a knife her eyes flashed red as she spoke, “You really should not try attacking a witch. If you think the Warden is scary, you have no clue of the powers at my disposal.”

“Threatening the Lavinian Demon, you have balls kid, I’ll give you that,” Seth retorted as he reached out to grab her, only to curse loudly as his hand brushed against glass. The shards sank into his skin and immediately began dissolving acting as a solid salt that lit his body on fire as he cried out in pain. Staggering a step beck he looked at the small cuts that the glass had caused before dissipating and finally looked at the Witch.

“I warned you Demon,” Was the stern response.

[TwinCast]

Aislinn stared down Seth Dahlios as he looked upon her frail form. He knew he had her cornered, and she could only hope the doubt the evil eye was supposed to give was underlining her threats. He seemed to study his arm in wonder before he flexed it testing the pain and seeing it fall back below what she knew to be his considerable tolerances. Sweat had formed on her brow as he studied her, and she had the feeling the predator was once more assessing its prey.

Aislinn took the moment to reach into the bag that hung at her waist. Producing a small pile of papers she explained, “I had to call in a few favors. I may not be an Ixian Knight by name, but I have pull when I desire it. It is fortunate I do not abuse it as Jensen keeps telling me to, or I might not have this to share with you now.”

“You think giving me information on the Warden is going to change my mind?”

“It’s on more than the Warden.”

An eyebrow rose before with a vicious grab he snaked the papers form her only hand. Looking them over, he finally spoke, “She’s reaching the final stages?”

“He hasn’t been watching you for months. I merely asked Talen to double check the information to make sure it was accurate. As of when I left the castle that information is as comprehensive as I could possibly achieve,” Aislinn said dutifully. Seth looked at the girl for a moment before he dropped the papers into the satchel he carried. He then pinched the bridge of his nose before he spoke up;

“I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this notion. Do you realize that he could easily replicate what he did to Jensen to me? Do you realize how stupid you are to think that just because I threw my humanity away to become the monster so many children are kept in line by that it doesn’t mean I get these magical powers to kill another monster?”

“I was under no such illusions,” Aislinn said matching his gaze. The two seemed at a battle of wills and she could feel the Lavinian Demon’s gaze bore through her.

“I could almost believe you Scarlet Witch,” Seth replied using a title she had taken on rather than her true name. Aislinn shifted uncomfortably at the mention of this title, one given by the Ixian knights in an effort to raise her above her normal duties like some kind of famous warrior. She was no fighter, and the use of the moniker seemed to give Seth a perverse pleasure that even now faced her with an impish grin on his face.

“I need you Seth, name your price,” Finally she blurted it out.

“Oh, you think I’m some mercenary. If you can’t appeal to my ‘better nature’ you can just buy me? You don’t have wallets deep enough for that lady. Not even close to affording a world class thief and monster. Sei had the only means of paying me and that fell through,” The thief scoffed.

“I never called you a monster,” Aislinn stated matter of fact. She had one last angle to hit Seth from, before she would have to surrender. She could feel the winds gathering about her, feeling the tension at those words thicken the air to an almost insufferable heat. He looked at her carefully tilting his head this way and that, before he started walking forward. She involuntarily took a step back and found herself pinned against the wall before a knife sunk to the hilt next to her face. She closed her eyes even as she felt her heart ready to burst from her chest. She could smell the stench of his breath; almost feel his form pressing up against her as he hissed;

“You know nothing about me Witch. You can play on my sympathies all you want, but at the end of the day that makes you no different than your damnable uncle. Jensen took that mission knowing damn well what could happen to him, and if he didn’t then he was a bigger fool than I would have ever guessed. Don’t think that you can merely step up and just guilt me into doing what you want.”

“I don’t hear you saying no,” She responded. The words were whispered as she leaned back trying to get away from the man.

The knife was roughly sawed back and forth freeing it from the doorframe before with a jerk it was yanked out and placed in a sheath. He looked into her eyes before he turned and grabbed a few bags of trail mix, placing them in his satchel. He pulled out the papers and moved through them slowly looking them over before he spoke, “Who taught you how to bribe?”

“I have found in my travels that giving the bribe creates a feeling of debt. If one holds it hostage that creates resentment, but freely giving such information, that would create instead a feeling of debt and guilt,” Aislinn looked at the thief before he nodded.

“I’ll hunt the Warden. Give me a week to get out there and assess the situation. If I’m not back in a week, tell Liliana I loved her and I was too weak,” Seth responded.

“Thank you Seth,” The witches heartfelt reply caught the thief offguard before he shook his head.

“Don’t thank me yet, you might not like the results of what will happen. I am the bear in the tea shop. I will destroy everything about me in the pursuit of my goals. By saying I am the one to do this; the blood is on your hands. I am your weapon in this endeavor Witch. Can you live with the blood on your hands?”

Asilinn looked down upon the stump of her arm before she spoke softly, “I already have many lives to atone for, what’s a few more?”

Seth snorted as he left the room muttering, “And people call me the heartless monster…”