Composer and Maestro Continued

[Dirge]

{Part II : Continued from here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=4712) and for all intensive purposed that would be the ten post intro to this... thanks to the mods}

Dirge watched the rising sun through the thin vein of fog. After the winds and rain had passed over the Coronian island a cold, sharp front had moved in. Cold winds shifted quietly. Thin clouds danced across the clear sky. If it wasn't for the odd company that the sorcerer was keeping it would be the perfect morning. He clutched his coat tightly against himself and turned to Jacob.

The two had traveled for only a few days now, after meeting at the famous Peaceful Promenade of Underwood. The two had hit it off well enough, well, they had at least kept a civil attitude towards one another. Dirge was not often afraid of a person, much less a human, but the young poet was a conundrum. He was something the sorcerer could not even figure out.

Randomly another voice would appear, a voice that croaked out its words with a bitter rasp. The voice was pure malice, a twisted manifestation of insanity. It talked in riddles, spoke with a lyrical twist that bordered on maddening. Vigo had been taunted and threatened by the voice. It wished him harm, a fact that scared the halfling.

The two had crossed the Akashima border over night, sneaking past any patrols that may have stopped them. The business that the sorcerer conducted was his own. Even if it was not of a evil alignment, he was not apt to share it with others he did not know. By mid-day the two would come to the main city. It would be there that Dirge planned on starting the boy's "training", or at least helping him control his thoughts through meditation and attempts at spells.

"A pretty nice morning, if I do say so myself," the half-elf said with a smirk. He took a quick swig of his small pouch, grimacing as the harsh alcohol hit his throat. What a way to wake up. As soon as he placed the cork back in the skin he pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit up the tip. "How are you feeling this morning?"

After the first long drag the man let the thin smoke slip through his pursed lips. The walk would warm the two, until then the alcohol and smoke would do the job better than any coat or layers of clothing.

((Currently closed to my partner. Sorry folks.))

[The Writing Writer]

Jacob could feel his body shaking, he must've been cold. He hardly had any other way of knowing other than the sound of his chattering teeth. Pain and discomfort were things of the past since The Writer had made himself known. The constant chanting in Jacob's mind served to drown out most other senses. It seemed that The Writer had become ever more determined to gain complete control since Jacob had met Vigo. Perhaps The Writer feared the sorcerer. If that were the case, both Jacob and Vigo were constantly in danger.

Twigs snapped and leaves crumbled as Jacob's pale, bare feet fell heavily onto the earth beneath them. His bare chest seemed to glow in the morning sun. He was unhealthily pale. Were he not walking in broad daylight, he could easily be mistaken for a vampire. Jacob's companion appeared a bit less unnerving, but was by no means a saint. The dark sorcerer hid a madness within very similar to Jacob's own shattered mind. What separated the two was Vigo's control of his madness. He blended in almost perfectly with normal society, as if there was no madness at all. Jacob on the other hand constantly struggled to hang onto his last, tiny shred of sanity.

It was Vigo's control that had motivated Jacob to journey with him. Jacob also wished for control like that. He knew The Writer was powerful, and if he could control him, he would be all the more powerful.

Jacob stared blankly at the ground as they marched towards their destination, which was unknown to him. Jacob seemed to pay no mind to obstructions, steeping on rocks and sharp twigs as if they weren't there. Even as they passed a common green snake, Jacob made no effort the avoid the scaly worm. Stepping a little too closely, the snake lashed out and sank it's tiny teeth into Jacob's ankle.

Oddly enough, he was completely un phased by the tiny creature's attack. He took a few more steps before he even noticed it was there. Jacob stopped and looked down at the snake, staring at it for a moment. He lifted his foot up and grabbed the green snake with one hand. He tore it off of him, tearing bits of his own flesh as he did so. He took hold of the snake near it's neck and held it inches from his eye. He stared deeply into the snake's eyes. The snake snapped and fought to get away; Jacob didn't flinch even once. In one sudden, choppy motion, Jacob tore off the snakes head with his teeth and spit the head onto the ground. The snake's body wriggled and squirmed, it's nerves in shock from the sudden fatality. Jacob laughed tauntingly as he watched the snake's body squirm in his hand.

" Vigo! Look! It thinks it's still alive! Ha ha ha . "

[Dirge]

Instead of replying the boy was lost in thought. It was not an uncommon look that he had, a look of deep concentration, an absence of thought. Vigo would have worried for the boy, but could never let his mind drift. If the thing inside Jacob was powerful enough to overtake the boys mind, send him into a thoughtless trance, then it may have been strong enough to inflict itself onto the halflings mind.

"The hell if I'll take that chance," Vigo thought as he pushed aside the idea of the insanity of his companion taking over his own mind. He began to think instead of how to help his little friend, how to push away that wicked voice and its twisted vices. "The hell if that damned voice will ever touch me..."

Vigo only stuttered his stride just a bit, just before he caught himself and continued on. He once again assumed his smooth, ghostly glide, his elven heritage had its perks. He focused on his stride, his heavy steps, and his long stride. He tried to block out the young man and his pallid facade.

The ignorance lasted for a short amount of time.

The sorcerer turned to see that the boy had a headless snake in his hands. Its nerves were still sending emergency signals, screaming that it needed to move. The twitching snake held in the pasty kids hands was a sight that would have normally sent others the other way. Vigo was instead intrigued.

As he quickly was learning, Jacob was something of an anomaly. He had little control over what he did or said, acting like a child sometimes (naive and goofy) or like a serial killer at other times (broken mind and serious tones). The boys mind seemed shattered and scattered, turned and twisted by the "Writer" and its warped view on reality.

"What the fuck?" Vigo stopped his determined stride and looked at the simple child. His foot was bleeding, missing a bit of skin. First thing before he started training the child, Vigo would insist he find a suitable set of clothing and a pair of good leather boots. "Your bleeding everywhere. Look at that... here..."

In a side pocket, one of many along his waist, the sorcerer slipped out a thin, foot long piece of cloth. It was a rudimentary bandage, a small gift that he had grabbed before leaving the town of Underwood. The boy seemed hazard prone and rash. It would only be understandable to have a strip of rough gauze on hand at any time.

"Wrap your foot before we continue. I can't have you bleeding and getting some stupid disease before we even get to Akashima," the half-elf handed the boy the gauze and sat for a second. They had not even been traveling for more than thirty minutes, and already Jacob was hurt again.

((Feel free to take it and put us in the city if you want to, no rush here, but didn't give you much else to work with. Sorry))

[The Writing Writer]

" Okie dokie soon to chokie! " said Jacob, tossing the snake carcass into a near by bush then snatching the coarse fabric out of Vigo's hand. He lifted both legs at once, crashing down onto the grass-patched earth below. He rested his injured foot on his lap and began to wrap it with the off white cloth. He tied it tightly around the bloody tear in his skin and jumped to his feet abruptly once he had finished.


Jacob was about to press on when a sharp, high pitched bell rang for an instant in his mind. He had not even the time to blink before he lost control.

" Vigo my deary, I hope you might hear me.
Though tired and weary, do ponder this query.
This forest so near me, so dark and so dreary,
Must it be so near me? Please answer me clearly.

For it is the city I crave, the young misters and maids.
Surely one so brave, with your cheeks so concave,
Could lead us to the nave, in the city by the bay,
Where we, being knaves, might send children to their graves.

Or perhaps nobles it shall be, as they sip at their tea.
I favor the marquis, for he thinks his bowels stench free.
Oh what a joy it would be! The thought fills me with such glee,
I might set it all free! Or perhaps save some, for his wife to be.

Such things I've been told, of the marquis's woman, Isold.
She's only twenty years old, and her hair glistens like gold.
And I might be so bold, to say that her clothes often unfold,
For the men not so old, as her husband. So I'm told. "

The Writer stood upright, his hands folded behind his back as he walked slowly and steadily, circling the half elven sorcerer. He glanced up and down, getting a good look at Vigo, before speaking again.

" You've nothing to fear from me, not yet at least.
Young Jacob is wild. An untamed beast.
I'll allow you to train him, make him strong of will.
Till then, I shall wait. Consider my absence, goodwill. "

The Writer bowed to Vigo just before returning control back to Jacob. Jacob blinked a few times and stared at Vigo.

" Well, let's get going then. " Said Jacob as he began walking at the same pace as before.

[Dirge]

The boy was naïve, had an odd way of handling himself, and seemed to find himself wounded all the time. He didn’t appear to have a sense of feeling, or emotions. Perhaps both were secreted away behind a veil of insanity induced by the wicked voice. Whatever the case was, Vigo felt somewhat discomforted most of the time he was around the boy. It was a feeling that he almost never felt, a feeling that brought on his intrigue all the more.

“His mind is so muddled, confused and torn,” the sorcerer mused, “I wonder if I will be able to access this Writer, this odd source within him? I wonder if teaching him anything to increase his strength would be wise, much less safe. If the Writer has so much access, so much power over him, could he touch whatever the man learned?”

The halfling snapped his head towards his companion, his eyes widened, and his face grew drawn. The other was talking. His voice was raspy, his rhyme was eerie, and his timing caused a roll of shivers down his spine. He listened intently, stopping himself from laughing at the voice when it spoke of the marquis’ lady. However, when the boy finally snapped back it was only worry that played across his sharp elven face.

“Yes, let’s get moving.” Vigo’s tone was firm, but streaked with utter concern. “We will be coming to Akashima soon.”

((Go ahead and send us to the town…))

[The Writing Writer]

The walk itself was rather uneventful aside from the Writer's brief appearance. The city itself, however, was truly something to behold. Pearly white buildings towered into the sky, peaked with deep green angular roofs. The architecture was unlike anything Jacob had ever seen. The people themselves were some what of a mystery. They all looked very similar. They're hair was black, they're skin was tan, they're eyes were dark and slanted. Jacob had never seen people like this before.

Another suprising thing, was the over all attitude of the people. No one stared at Vigo or Jacob. Most didn't even pay attention to them. Others smiled and bowed politely. It was a very strange place indeed. Then again, Vigo and Jacob were very strange themselves. Perhaps that is why the people were so accepting of them.

The streets themselves were paved with stone, but not in the same manner as in the town of Underwood. The stones in these streets were angular, perfectly square and placed into the street with great attention to symmetry and detail. It was actually, quite beautiful.

Jacob's legs were tired from walking. It had been a very long walk. He tugged at Vigo's coat and whined to him like a child.

" Vigo I'm tired. Can we rest somewhere? "

[Dirge]

Time passed slowly as the two unceremoniously marched towards the city. The two paced themselves rather well; Vigo taking his graceful strides while Jacob’s feet fell heavily. Polar opposites on the outside, none would have ever assumed the companions would have ever fit together. Vigo was a half-elf, born and raised (sort of) in Raiaera. He summoned the grace of his mother, but the implacable defiance of his father. Outwardly, he looked the picture of a high elf. Jacob, on the other hand, looked the picture of a lost and confused child. His face showed the pity and longing that dwelt within him. It expressed the pain and un-joyous accompaniment of the Writer within.

But inside, the two were the same.

Thriving to overcome the insanity that played with their thoughts, both fought for a reason to live and a way to make it so. Vigo, the older of the two, had seemingly caught it. But he knew… he knew that the monster within him was waiting to be pulled out at any moment. If he lost even the slightest control of his thoughts, even the smallest control of his emotions, he would turn again into what the boy already was.

“Ha,” Vigo laughed, pushing aside the grave thoughts. “It seems that we have found Akashima! What luck, and in less time than I had expected.” Jacob said nothing. Vigo ignored the boy for the time, taking in the sights of the majestic city.

It was like walking into another world. Coronian people were thought to be somewhat pragmatic, not caring to express any form of beauty in their structural designs. They were thought to be hasty in building, quick to finish the job and be through with it. All those generalizations could easily be thrown out the window when looking at the cityscape of Akashima. The town before the two was the opposite of what a traveler would have expected.

It was a truly beautiful sight. The cobblestone roads were set perfectly, but smooth. The houses were built of a smooth wood, finished with a rich sealant. Though the houses mostly looked the same, they each had a unique air about them. No two seemed the same, though the building itself looked it from a distance.

Added to that, the people themselves were different. They had an almost elven quality to them. Vigo thought he had finally found a place full of people like him. They had to be half-elves. They were more hardy and robust than the elven people. Yet they carried themselves with amazing grace. They had the rounded faces and short, rounded ears. But their eyes were somewhat drawn away and upwards, appearing much as his own. And just like Vigo, their hair was dark with an almost silk like texture to it. Even the lowly, shoddy looking people that bustled by the gaping pair looked far better than those who could have been found in the slums of Radasanth.

“Yes, yes,” Vigo responded, only half paying attention. Had he found home? The question lingered at the back of his mind, but was quickly pushed aside. His attention, as always, was being drawn away by the young man. “We will find a place to rest,” he said while looking around. “How about… there?”

The sorcerer led them to the nearest inn. The name was written in odd characters that the halfling did not understand, but it had a picture of a raven perching on a branch. It appeared well cared for, more so than the Promenade, but looked as though few foreigners had used it. “We can get something to drink and eat, and then start your training…” Vigo removed a small cigarette from one of his pouches and lit the end, inhaling a quick drag before entering the inn.

[The Writing Writer]

Jacob dragged his feet with him as he followed Vigo into the strange inn. Jacob was tired and hungry and weary from the trip. He was glad to finally find somewhere to stay.

The inside of the inn was just as mysterious and foreign as the outside was. Brightly colored paper lanterns hung from the ceiling. Tiny trees were rooted in pots all about the room. There were many paintings of snake-like dragons and other exotic animals.

As the two oddities entered the lobby of the establishment, a tiny old woman cam out from the adjacent room. Her face was wrinkled and leathery. Jacob could barely even see her eyes and wondered if maybe she was blind. Her hair was silvery white and tied neatly into a top knot. She wore a strange, white robe with many decorative stitchings of gold and purple. She smiled sincerely and bowed to the both of them.

" Welcome. Have you come to reserve a room? "

Jacob ignored the woman's questions, as it seemed wise for Vigo to do the majority of the negotiations. Instead, Jacob wandered about the room, examining the many strange things within it.

A sharp sting in his head stopped Jacob in his tracks.

Dear brother of mine, where stand we now?
I no not these sights, I've not stepped on this ground.

Vigo says this place is called Akashima. It is in Corone.

Ah the isle of trees, our home land I see.
But this place is new, a foreign oddity.

Yeah, I'm as astounded as you are. I didn't even know this place existed until I had met Vigo.

A world traveler it seems, this half elven mage.
A wise one indeed, yet he fills me with rage.
His smug appearance, his ego filled head.
I'd like kill this Vigo, but he's no good to me dead.

You won't lay a finger on him! When my training is done you won't even be around anymore!

Haha, high hopes you have, dear brother of mine.
Only time will tell. Only time...

[Dirge]

It was, to say the least, peaceful.

Vigo tapped off the end of his cigarette and let the ash fall to the floor. It was an inconsiderate thing to do, but he could care less. He watched the thin ash settle on the smooth, beautiful wooden floor. Stepping on top of it with his polished leather boots, he moved into the tavern. The lanterns created an ambiance just as a low flame would, but provided far more light. At the far side was a fire at a slow roar, flickering and snapping as more wood was tossed on.

As the door shut behind the two a quick draft slipped through the crack, whipping the loose long coat of the sorcerer. He relished the overdramatic entrance, basking in the interested looks of the unique denizens. The first to approach was obviously in charge of the tavern. Her garb was pronounced and nearly regal. Her voice was soft and sweet, a perfect melody to accompany such an amazing face. Vigo was finding beauty in even the older faces of the town.

“Yes, that and we will both take a drink and some food. It doesn’t matter what you have, anything will do.”

The halfling nodded, half bowing at the waist, and flashed an almost cheery smile. He turned to Jacob and shook his head. His eyes were lost again, but he at least seemed coherent. “Come on,” he said as he tapped the boy on the shoulder. “Let’s get a seat and I’ll start explaining what your training will be, how it will help you, and then we will find out what you can learn.”

[The Writing Writer]

Jacob snapped his head abruptly around to face Vigo. His reaction was a bit dramatic, but the tap on the shoulder had startled him. Jacob struggled to focus on what Vigo was telling him. A low hum resonating inside his head made it difficult to stay focused. The hum was accompanied by the occasional whisper of an insult, or a violent suggestion. Jacob could not hear the whispers well enough to fully understand them, but he feared that if he listened too hard he would lose control. For now, he kept his attention on Vigo, who was making his way into a dining area.

Jacob followed Vigo into the dimly lit room. The floors were made of white marble and gently reflected the light of the colorful lanterns. The tables that filled the room were very short, only inches from the ground. Jacob also noticed that there were no chairs around the tables, only pillows. But these pillows were not for sleeping. They were elegant, with decorative trim all around them. Their deep purple fabric was as pleasing to the touch as it was to the eyes.

Jacob sat down on top of one of the pillows, crossing his legs in front of him. His eyes trailed off from time to time when a whisper or a giggle rang out in his head, but for the most part Jacob was collected. He sat hunched over, examining his hands as if they were a mystery unto him. They were covered in filth. Dirt, blood and sweat melded into one greasy muck that filled the crevasses of his pale hands.

At that moment, as if his mind had been read, a young boy presented Jacob with a bowl of water, undoubtedly used for cleansing purposes. Jacob nodded in recognition of the boy's gesture and began washing his hands. The cool, clear water stung his hands as it filled the tiny scrapes and cuts that covered his hands. Once Jacob had washed his hands clean, the young boy took the white cloth that was draped over his shoulder and handed it to Jacob, who then proceeded to dry his hands.

Once Jacob had finished he turned to Vigo, and began to speak to him.

" Vigo, I'm hungry. You did say we were going to eat didn't you? "

[Dirge]

The acrid smoke of the cigarette was obviously not appreciated, but the halfling could care less. He had little interest in the comfort of others, as long as he could keep his own focus on himself. Instead of putting it out at the entrance, he took a hard drag and began to walk through the small building. For its size, it had plenty of room, allowing for a rather wide dining wing. The marble floors were strewn with pillows of silk, but the customs of the local population also went nearly unnoticed. He had other things on his mind.

He waited for the boy to take his seat first, never letting him have a chance to see his back. He was also concerned with having the standing boy catching him off-guard, halfway to his seat. Precaution was scribbled across his sharp features, and he knew it was obvious. But the boy seemed half together for the first time in a while, and that sat easily with the half-elf.

Vigo followed custom, dipping his hands and cleaning them. The smell of the nicotine and finished cigarette would be hard pressed to disperse, especially with only a rudimentary rinse. But the meticulous and sometimes overly clean half-elf appreciated the chance to clean his hands, more than the majority of Radasanth would even consider before eating.

“Yes, yes,” the sorcerer responded offhandedly. He waved a hand to his companion, but flashed a smile that matched his air of cordiality. The Akashima people and their beautiful town were relaxing, refreshing. It was like an oasis of class amidst the slums of people in Corone. He only hoped that his research would go well with the town, and there would be little problems. “Food will be delivered shortly… did you forget? I placed the order at the door for food and drink.”

He shifted to his side, sprawling his body out lengthways across the smooth floors. His upper body was cocked with his bent elbow resting on one of the massive pillows and supporting his head. Between himself and Jacob was a small round glass table, intricately engraved and decorated along the edges. “What is it you wish to learn? I can only explain how I came to understand magic, but cannot help you find it yourself. I’m a sorcerer, meaning I’ve never had formal training with magic or the way to wield it. However, I believe everyone has the ability, to whatever meager or grand extent, to use some form of magic. And I believe that magic is nothing more than the pure focus of a person to believe that they can do something… like putting your mind over matter. You would be surprised what strength the mind and thoughts have…”

Vigo watched as the front doors of the kitchen, or what he assumed was the kitchen area, swung open and the middle aged woman shuffled towards them with two steaming platters. “And with your… issues I believe building your mental abilities would be more than beneficial in assuming power, but also with overcoming that terrible voice within.”