Once...

...twice.

A cold wind began to blow from the north, one that had clearly passed over the frozen tundras and eventually the icy peaks of New Eden in the night. It was two in the morning and there was not a sign of life anywhere. No animals, no people, even the bell seemed to be a hollow echo from another world. Being magically enchanted to toll on it's own had that effect.

The leaves of the alien vegetation around the banks of the river began to bristle and sway ever so gently, and if one looked closely a dew could be seen freezing over very subtly in places. A great blackness would open up pulling the breeze to it. No matter how good one's vision was, or what powers they possessed, they would not be able to see in or through it. Even as one noticed the wind bending, light shifting to accommodate the vacuous blackness, but the placid, flowing river water did not ripple in the slightest.

From within the blackness emerged first one appendage, and then another. The warrior formally known as Alistair Baptiste emerged casually from the infinite terrors of Oblivion, allowing the portal to wink close instantaneously behind him. He stretched the muscles in his neck and arms, as though he had not seen fit to use his body in a long time, or having just awoken from a long sleep. His eyes widened sarcastically as he took in the men, from underneath a fancy black hood of his own, made of leather and adorned with several chains, staring at them as if he had never seen a humanoid before aside from his own reflection.

" Hello there, boys. What the fuck do you want? "

Yuu yawned; “information,” there wasn’t even a hint of acknowledgement that the center-man, who always spoke, had witnessed what had just occurred, but it was far more likely that he just didn’t care. A normal person, a random villager, maybe, would have probably been scared, or awed at such a scene, believing it to be a miracle. However miraculous as it was, though, the leader of these travelers three, had seen many-a-great sights in his life, and would see many more before he died. He was a marvel in his own right, after all.

“Sarah Ravenshield,” he shrugged as he spoke, his voice wasn’t nearly as cheerful as it had been two days prior, but it wasn’t disrespectful, either. “She sent me to see you about a man named Sieg and some items I’m looking to check out,” he spoke frankly.

The two ‘quiet’ men that were at his sides moved a few feet; they walked forwards and then turned to face inwards, staring each other down, but would eventually back away, as well.

“Apparently you can just call me Ito,” he walked forwards and stood in-between the two men, who would now be facing him. “I’m a collector of sorts and things seem to be falling into my lap,” he laughed a bit and started thinking; the woman had told him to come here, but was this man really supposed to help? He just didn’t see it.

Alistair narrowed his eyes. Sarah Ravenshield was indeed Alistair Baptiste's superior, in another life. But now he was something different and he had paid his debt in full and then some to her, especially. Alistair had a hard time believing that she would send someone here, to him, to ask questions up front without offering any explanation or useful intel of their own. His brows furrowed as he considered exactly how much of a teaser he planned to reveal. Talis had been a Gartel long enough now to master having a faked personality.

Alistair held out his hand, palm up. With as little effort as he had used to cross the boundaries that separate planes of existence set in place, and formed several floating ghostly images. The images were solid enough, but translucent, appearing to be made of smoke and little else, held together by an invisible force. Which was true enough; the Alistair he once was had inherited this ability to solidify and project his aura as a defensible barrier away from himself, or to create various pointy instruments with which to brutally stab enemy combatants to death, only to dematerialize them at a whim.

There were two tomes, two swords, and various other odds and ends of ancient and unique origins floating around a dark figure. And dark was hard to do when the images were all the same color, and transparent. Kneeled before Sieg was a masked swordsman, and hovering around his head was a scaled-down image of what was actually a vast dragon. In Sieg's hand swirled an icy magic, and he cackled as he poked the orbiting objects with his free hand.

" I don't know if Miss Sarah clearly explained how this works. I am not an agent of Algeroth anymore. I am not a player in your conflicts unless there is something I stand to gain. We collect something as well you see, something far more precious and yet more common than any trinket or artifact you might seek. I know much of Sieg, I know where he is, I know what he has, and I know what he's planning. However, again, I'm not human. Even if you could read my mind you'd just be watching an empty screaming hollow, just like this body. My conscious mind exists completely separate from this form of mine, and thus I happen to be rather immune to most standard tricks of information gathering.

That being said! I would kindly ask what it is you have or know that I might be even remotely interested in, friend. You see I have only a few hours to piss away in Bale before I have to go back to the absolute void where I rest my world-weary head, and no offense, but I'd rather be in the company of someone more aesthetically pleasing or at least vaguely more interesting than you guys, see? "

The center man slumped; his shoulders dropped and his face lost all resemblance to emotion. The shadow that was cast by the hood over his head would seem much darker, but this was all momentary. After Alistair had demonstrated a fraction of his abilities, the center man would once again snap back to his usual self, and begin to speak right away:

“Preciousness is debatable, Mister Rai,” the voice was hollow, but still quite obviously belonging to Ito Yuu. “One moment, please,--” he’d go quiet after asking for a moment, either he was playing at something, or he was entirely serious; the man did not move, he did not say a word, he simply stood there, but still looked quite aware, at the same time. “--Yes, sorry, it’s so hard to find good help these days, you know? Where were we,--Oh yes, yes. I remember,--you can be immune to whatever you wish; I’m just talking, aren’t I? Surely, I would not attempt such underhanded methods of acquiring information on one such as yourself; you are so obviously beyond my comprehension, and even my own power!”

The hooded center-man yawned again and paused in thought, he had a few more things to say on the subject, but he wasn’t feeling the need to measure himself against Talis Rai; there were always people like him, disregarding their strength, they always felt the need to display it, or simply sound arrogant. He hated it, but socializing with them was a necessary evil; after all, they were the ones who usually had the information he needed, the bastards.

“What could I possibly know that you do not, Mister Rai? -- Heh --Well, I don’t normally simply hand out my information, but what I know is rather dismissible, really, so I don’t mind this time; I know that Sieg is a relatively hard man to get at - for most people - and I know that I could be there, right now. If I wanted. But let us save that, shall we? I know that he has things your former associates would very much like, they practically begged me to meet you, and my guess is that they’d like to get their hands on Sieg himself or at least some of what he owns, I can do that if my cards are played right, but I have things to confirm. I don’t waste my time anymore than you’d like to waste yours.”

As the center man spoke, Talis Rai would be able to note several changes in the way his voice sounded, as though he were bouncing all over the spectrum, but it’d be simple to keep track: he had started out cheerful enough and with a slight mocking tone underneath, but not as insult. It was a mood breaker, in reality. Following the cheerful tone was a more serious one, a slight echo trailing behind it, but nearly unnoticeable. Once again, he’d slip into a cheerful pattern, but that would give way to a hollow voice, as he finished what he was saying. Talis Rai was right in that he was immune to most tricks of the mind; that could be what was causing the jumps, but considering Rai did not have knowledge of the men who stood before him; he would not know the reason for such mannerisms.

“Aggravating,” he spat and went silent for a few seconds, again. “Hurm, I suppose what I know matters very little, but it is what I can do that seems to be the icing, as it were.”

If this was Sarah Ravenshield’s means of flirting with me, she did it incredibly wrong, he thought to himself.

" Preciousness is not debatable, Mr. Yuu. It just varies depending on who you are. " Whether or not the man was impressed by anything he did or said was irrelevant. Talis Rai was a busy and enigmatic being as well, as was clearly seen by his extraplanar abilities. Of course deducing the man's fake name wasn't too hard. After all, Sarah would have proven herself a skilled telepath, and who was to say her talents had a maximum range, after all?

" Immune to whatever I wish...yes, wouldn't that be nice? I was just doing the courtesy of saving you the time, to save me the time, you see? I often get so delayed by mortals and other such bothersome creatures attempting to tamper with my mind when it does not actually belong to me, or this husk of a body. And please do not be offended by my overbearing nature or display of ability. Again, I think of you when I do this. " Talis nodded at his images. " You want information, this is a way I possess of giving it to you. Surely no one else you will speak to can make their thoughts so accessible, and give you such a clear depiction of what you seek? "

Talis Rai smiled gleefully, as though a small child on a gift-giving holiday. " Allow me to save us even more idle conversation and get straight to some key points. You have come here because you seek things from me. And because I will not appear without someone who poses a threat to this particular village. Sarah knows this, and knows that her appearing will not draw me out. But you! You are very interesting and shrouded in mystery. " Talis feigned a shiver as he flowed effortlessly into his next point. " She also cannot telepathically communicate with me unless my body and or mind are on this plane. So you come here, and draw me out. But I wouldn't even bother to stay if you did not pose a threat...unless...ah, yes, there it is. Unless you had information. So...you have been relatively honest, and so I will reward you with some valuable information. I ask that you do not relay this to the mortals or even Sieg himself. "

" Death...created more than just demons before he stumbled upon humanity. One of his final unsuccessful attempts at his perfect race led to ten beings having been created. The mortals call them Sages. Sages existed before humanity, and were gifted with extraordinary talents. They were special, and together they stood against gods themselves on more than one occasion. They each crafted a weapon, to augment their specific talents, and a book. The Artifacts, and the Ak'Vahrs. Most of the Artifacts exist completely apart from this world, but the Ak'Vahrs. They are all here, they are all immensely powerful, containing knowledge and spirit of the Sages who wrote them. And according to Sarah they meet your prerequisite ages. She seems to have made it clear that you can't have hers, but Sieg has two. They are with him now, somewhere in New Eden. Never more than a few miles from him. "

Talis walked closer to the man, in an utterly non-confrontational manner, and spoke as casually as he had been. But his eyes...they were very serious. " I'll be going to see Sieg as well, I suppose. Because Sarah has told me what he's really been up to. Unacceptable. Has nothing to do with you, or what you want, but I wouldn't want you to be surprised to see me again. " Talis howled with laughter. Clearly this man wasn't capable of being surprised by anything Talis had to offer, and so he closed his hand, extinguishing the images, and brew up a new one, of Syrus, the King. " I could give you more information, so that you could be absolutely prepared, but I would ask that you take one more trip first. It's on the way, actually, so it's really not all that much of a bother at all, you see? Go to the capital, northeast of here. Talk to King Syrus. If you don't plan to kill Sieg, lie. Tell him you will, and Syrus will tell you all you need to know. And it will save me having to go see him myself, you see? "

Talis extinguished the second image and turned on his heel, evaporating into a wall of black that appeared and disappeared in the blink of an eye, and he was gone.

Talis’ explanations went uninterrupted for the majority, even things that the center-man could have commented on or even argued against; ultimately, there was no real point in it: Talis Rai and Ito Yuu both seemed to be above a certain level, in relation to the common man; indeed, that would be somewhat obvious, wouldn’t it?

The talk of Sages didn’t come to the center-situated man with much surprise, he hadn’t too much knowledge on them, it was true, but he’d heard it in conversations from some of his more experienced acquaintances. However, he was tempted to express concern towards the showing up for the confrontation with Sieg, but he kept it to himself, this could be worked into his plans.

“Impeccable luck! I never thought I’d be getting the red carpet; always knew I’d love Algeroth. Might even get a vacation home here, eh, boys?” He spoke to his two companions, still apparently frozen, facing the center man, and again, he’d get no response out of them. “An audience with a king; my~, my~.”

Yuu paid no attention to Talis’ departure and didn’t seem all that phased by it, it didn’t even matter of he lingered, in some way, and continued listening in on the men. After Talis finished, the men got back into formation, facing away from the river, and started back down the path they had arrived on.

“Looks like you might not be needed, my dear, Adele~♪♫♪--Now, now, don’t pout.”

The three men would once again assume a lifeless march, very much like when they had first arrived, and would eventually fade away into nothing.

Toryn. Home of Castle Warheight. At the edges of the city are several stables, farmhouses, and temporary visitor housing for travelers and merchants as well as several outward stalls that exist separately from Toryn's own Market District. Then, moving inward, are the first set of massive stone walls. Inside the first series of walls and their towers. Within the main gates and walls is the market district. Shops, forges, bakeries, all manner of businesses and the structures that go along with producing and trading goods can be found here. Moving inward are the second set of massive walls, and their towers. Within the secondary gates and it's walls is the residential district, where the denizens and soldiers of Toryn live. There are also the public forums such as the library, courthouse, and other political and social venues. Then there is a small circulation of water around the final set of walls, towers, and gate. Inside the third wall is Castle Warheight. While all of Toryn is essentially one very large fortress, Castle Warheight is a single massive structure where the Royals, political leaders, visiting nobles and other such high-ranking people, servants, and soldiers reside. The armory, airship port, and many vaults and public chambers are scattered throughout the castle. At the very center of Toryn, and it's Castle Warheight is a massive courtyard of Syrus' own design, filled with flora and statues of ancestors, leaders, and scholars passed.

Syrus Warheight's own chambers sit partially above the garden, the only obstruction of the open sky when looking up from the courtyard. Miles and miles directly above and below the courtyard, beneath the earth and floating invisibly in the sky, are sanctuaries. One belongs to the Lesser God Qadasha, who offers protection and healing to any within it's limited and impenetrable domain. Deep beneath the castle is the sanctuary of Dyami and Dyani, the youngest gods of Algeroth, and likely Dystopia. Qadasha does not interfere in the ordeals or celebrations of mortals, and instead helps only those who are able to specifically seek her out, and only while they are in her mile-wide shrine. Dyami and Dyani are playful beings whose sole interest is their own entertainment, and rarely make their existances known.

Syrus absentmindedly polished the already-gleaming shield of his father's visage at the center of Castle Warheight's courtyard. Or rather, the very center of Toryn and essentially Algeroth. Things had changed a lot since last he'd had enough time to come here, and he sensed there would not be a lot of free time in the future.

Who says we’re wasting our time?What do you mean, why?And get nothing.You came to me.You came to me.We do what we must.Quiet, they’re almost there.That’s a good girl.

The lack of free time would not be all that Syrus would sense; there would be a cold shiver running up and down his spine, through his body, and tickling at the very edges of his soul. A buzzing sound would fill the area, it wasn’t a powerful sound, but it was there; it was the sound of something that didn’t fit, something that was not right, but was still quite present. Despite the suddenness of the sound and the sensation, there would be peacefulness about it, it wasn’t violent, and it wasn’t invasive, either. It merely was.

“I apologize in advance, Lord Syrus.”

A voice ripped through both the buzzing sound and the sensation; they would cease entirely.

Inexplicably, if Syrus would turn around, he’d see four people standing behind him, all four were cloaked, and three were men; there was a female amongst their number, although her looks were still quite indiscernible, but the way the cloak hung to her body gave away her gender, at least. The woman stood behind two of the men and the one who had spoken was standing in the middle, a joyous expression marking what little of his face, that could be seen.

“My companion believed me to be wasting time,” he’d gesture behind him even if Syrus had not turned around, “and so I was forced into making a faster, less enjoyable appearance.” He’d shrug and hold his arms apart, non-threateningly; the man before him was a king, and he’d try and show the respect due, if it was in his power. He fully expected the guards to be called, or at least made aware of their presence. They were of no consequence, regardless.

“Ttt,” the woman behind him seemed frustrated at her mention, but said nothing overtly. The man would only smile and continue speaking, “I was sent by Sarah Ravenshield to meet Talis Rai and by Talis Rai to meet you, your Highness.” he paused just briefly, enough to set the mood: “I’m going to kill a man named Sieg, but I’m trying to make sure it is to my advantage to do so, yes?”

The cloaked man wasn’t kidding around about being more direct, he wasn’t wasting any time in explaining his presence, and he was doing so as respectfully as he could; that is, he wasn’t threatening Syrus, and ensuring that he would not be taken as an enemy, despite his intrusion. He and his companions had already demonstrated the ability to come and go as they pleased, anyways.

“It was by this man, Talis Rai’s request that I come to see you and with those words on my lips. I do hope you are not offended by this,” he chuckled and licked his lips. “I have had to go through so many people already; I am not entirely pleased by this, but we do what we must, huh?”

Syrus was not an altogether unreasonable man. Over the years he had tolerated all manner of people coming and going from his holdings uninvited, using whatever means of unconventional travel they had at their disposal. All he had ever asked was that they respected his sanctuary. He sighed, without turning, and nodded over his shoulder. He was also used to them doing whatever it was the hell that they pleased. Tabris, most recently. They would pop in, and pop out, say or do what they came to say; or do. And it was seldom of great consequence to Syrus' own agenda.

" It's King, actually. Or so the true Lords of this land would say. Though I appreciate the pleasantries, please just call me Syrus. "

He mumbled these words almost under his breath, and paid close attention to the mentions of his cousin, and then his friend, and then his brother. Sarah, sending people to Alistair? Alistair sending strangers inside the castle? Strangers attempting to kill his mortal enemy for him. Syrus grumbled and turned on his heal, his skin was cracked all across his body, giving off the appearance of the molten surface of the sun. While his skin itself was ivory, there were lines of intense heat riddled across his face giving off bright red light. It was as though Syrus' own core were ablaze.

" And Talis does not exist. There was once a man named Alistair who served me. He died, and is nothing but a ghost now. But as for Sieg, what? You come here, mentioning Alistair and claiming to be after Sieg, a man I wish dead with every fiber of my being and you expect...support? You wish my soldiers, funding, or perhaps you intend to seek my aid personally so as to lead me alone into proverbial Lion's Den and slay me to gain Sieg's favor? Usually my allies don't dress all in black and warp in and out of my kingdom. Actually, lately, that would be a lie; please, enlighten me how I might be of service to ones such as yourself? "

Syrus shifted uncomfortably, clearly exasperated with random interruptions during his one moment of solace, though he would never speak of it. He was diplomatic, to a point, but he could smell the end of days in the air every morning. He'd already been through a war and having his soul nearly ripped into nothingness, as well as attempting to keep up on his meditation to keep Knox, and more importantly, Fortinbras well-contained in him. Syrus was a bit of a telepath himself, and during the time since Yuu's arrival he had communicated briefly with Sarah. She warned him vaguely that the man might be after the Sage's keepsakes. She explained to him that neither Syn or Oblivion were in danger, but to be wary of allowing him to lay his hands on the Sage's knowledge.

The man who had initially spoken, smiled, but did not interrupt Syrus’ ramblings about his title. Calling a man Lord was not specifically referring to their title, but to their status. Syrus was a Lord of men, or at least that was what the hooded man‘s people, from his homeland, would have referred to Syrus as, but this was all negligible, in the big picture.

“He existed enough to speak to me,” he replied. “That is enough for some, and it is enough for me, King Syrus.” Although it was at the King’s request, the speaking man would not refer to him by his name, that would have been rude, and he had already been rude enough, hadn’t he? Indeed, at most he’d be referred to as Mister or Sir, but he would not simply be called by his common name.

“Why in Death’s name would we want your soldiers, Syrus?” The woman spoke before ‘Yuu,’ this time and stepped just a bit closer to the two men in front of her. She was not nearly as respectful as the man, but she kept her voice at a normal volume, but with some noticeable effort. “Funding? Soldiers? You? Ha!--”

Immediately, a fierce glare was shot towards her, a noticeable amount of anger in it, perhaps the first sign of genuine feeling that the man, who had always spoken, had shown in the last few days, and she quickly shut her mouth and slinked back, just slightly.

“I apologize,” he said, returning his attention back to Syrus, and off of the woman: “Sometimes she forgets her place, but she means no harm and what she says is true. We do not need your help in any physical sense, monetary or otherwise, you understand? We’ve our own lucrative business and associates willing enough to help us out, we expect no dedicated help from you, or your people, King Syrus. As I recall, your country has been through enough, already. As for our appearance and method of travel, again, I apologize, but there are reasons we cannot show our person,” he smiled reassuringly. “And I had little choice in my sudden arrival, again.”

Ito Yuu cleared his throat and shot another glance towards the woman, insuring that she was not going to interrupt again, and then he’d start to answer Syrus’ questions: “I have had to explain this already, many times, but I will do so again, your Majesty; there are many people in this world, as you know, and they are of all walks of life; they do many, many things. I am no different, I do things, scholarly things, and this includes collecting certain… artifacts. Old ones, around and beyond a thousand years of age, you understand? Sieg, as my acquaintances and I have been led to believe, is in possession of items that could possibly be of interest,” he sighed and shook his head, hanging it just slightly. “Sometimes it is easy to tell which items are the ones that I’m looking for, and other times… Other times it isn’t, and during those times, I have to check the status of the items: That is quite the chore, as you can imagine. (Especially when I have to deal with beings such as Sieg.) Before I go and do something irrational for little to no reward, I like to make sure that what I’m looking for exists and matches my criteria. I have already determined that he does, in fact, possess these items, as I’m sure you may have already figured out, but I have also been offered suggestions from the others that I have met, Talis Rai and Sarah Ravenshield. By their advice, I came: I need information about Sieg, any that you can offer, even things I already know.”

If the cloaked man had taken a breath even once, after all he had said, it’d be impossible to tell, and he didn’t even look winded. Regardless, all of what he said was true, he knew that Sieg was, in fact, in possession of the things he wanted and he also knew that hey may have been wasting his time--before he’d leave, he’d find out what others knew, what items they owned, and what items they wanted. Ultimately, it was a game of forging connections and doing favors, the start of any great quest, to be sure, but it’d also open up new avenues, new paths and additions to his already formidable information network.

“Quite convoluted isn’t it?

It was not what the word Lord meant anywhere, but it's value in Algeroth. In the social higherarchy of Algeroth, a Lord was below a King. Anyone else in Algeroth high society besides Syrus himself would have been outraged at hearing their king addressed as such, but Syrus had always cared little for words and titles, but still would prefer to have it be absent rather than incorrect.

" Then I congratulate you on your ability to channel the dead, from what I hear it is a rare and invaluable gift. " Alistair was, however, a sensitive subject for Syrus. All of his Metsuke Elite were hand-picked by the King himself to do the bidding of the crown. They were each bound to him and the loss of Alistair had affected him deeply. And then..the twisted, corrupted thing that he had been made in to was almost too much to bear. It was much easier to think of him as long past, and so he did. Syrus tilted his head to the side, and dropped his gaze to the ground as he took the girl's insult, but was cut off from an immediate reaction by what was clearly her superior.

" I do not blame you for your ignorance, but hear me well, for I tire of explaining this to every enigmatic stranger that comes here thinking themselves beyond what we are. Sieg and I are not what we appear. We have each been approached by beings beyond our imagination on countless occasions, and we have not fallen yet. I do not fear you, and so I know that neither will he. We are bound to each other and our strength increases relatively. I realize that you have no fear of me, either, but I urge you to reconsider. We Descendants are not what we appear, especially my brother and I. I believe I know what you seek, and I think that you're search so far has been a wild and flailing attempt that has been for naught. Sarah has explained more of your conversation to me, and I am here to tell you that the Ak'Vahrs are incorruptable by the force you seek or any other.

I am sure the specter showed my brother to you, he did so love to show off that gift of his from Sage Baptiste. Remember the juggernaut he keeps by his side? It existed as a pair, one of two. Our lore says that in ancient time they explored the world, but it's mate angered an unimaginable force of nature that sealed it within a bauble that it's mate hordes to this day. Sieg, like he has done on so many other countless occasions took advantage of the great beast's fear and confusion and enslaved it as a servant and protector. It could be what you are looking for. The object does not seem to be extraordinary but it belongs to it's keeper, and who knows what it might have exhibited to that thing in the darkness of Sieg's shadow, only the beast would have seen it.

Go. Find what you are looking for, and you may attempt to kill my brother if you wish, but it is a duty that has been left up to me, and I hardly believe you will be able to succeed. Then you have another choice to make, it seems. Sarah and her Artifacts, long lost to us. You have my blessing to pursue that deal and do what you wish with the weapons. They are evil, and pose no value to us, unlike the Ak'Vahrs. "

Superbia … Molestus … Bardus

The cloaked man frowned; this was getting a little tiresome and he was beginning to rethink his plan on getting a vacation home in Algeroth. Did every person he had to meet need to display some form of arrogance, or think themselves far smarter than he could hope to be? Sigh … He shook his head and dismissed the comment.

“And I, you.” The cloaked man replied back-handedly, “yes, and I’m sure that’s all fine and dandy. I have met far too many beings who claim that they are not ‘what they appear,’ but so odd is it that they almost always appear exactly as they are, and not much else.”

The hooded man shrugged, his left hand going to the very edge of his hood, trailing up the neck of it, and moving to the very front; he tugged on it, just slightly.

“You speak with little knowledge of this force, but that is understandable; there are few who know as much as I do, and those that do, do so only because of first-hand experience. I hear your warnings and I understand your warnings, King Syrus, but you must, too, understand; there are forces out there that are far more devastating than you hope to know and people who know how to use them. -- And then there are people who would abuse them and release a tide of unimaginable evil on the world,” his voice grew into a bone-chilling coldness, “I fit in the former category, but I am not afraid of going into the second, either.”

The man moved forwards, his feet almost seeming to glide against the ground, and for but a fraction of a moment, half-a second, his eyes would be visible; they were sockets of absolute darkness, they were like a scar within the shadows that obscured the rest of his face, and despite their color, they could be seen quit easily; that is, until the man lifted his head a bit higher.

The gesture was not threatening and he wasn’t showing off; in fact, it could easily be taken as his reason for wearing a cloak; yes, that was the reason. It had to be; no normal man had eyes like that, eyes that seemed to draw in shadows, and even light; the kind of eyes that could stare a man down to his soul, the eyes of the lifeless.

“King Syrus, I thank you for your time; it has been most enjoyable, and I am sorry for showing up as I did,” his voice had slipped into a bittersweet tone, it was happy, but with an underlining sadness, as well. “The information you have provided me is quite helpful and should I find these tomes that your cousin, I think it was, wished me to find, then I will do my best to return them, my word means little, I’m sure, but I have no use for artifacts that are not what I seek. I’d sooner toss them to the side than keep them for myself,” he smiled, and the men and woman behind him would slowly fade from existence. “That, I can assure you.”

There was a momentary pause, after the previously centered, spatially, at least, man had spoken; the hand that had been lifted to his hood before, once again went up, a hungry grin forming at the edges of his lips: “Believe of my power what you will,” he sighed through his grin. “But I do not underestimate you, rest assured, and so I would warn against underestimating me, as well. Behind one monster is usually a bigger one.”

There was no fancy transitory dissipation or distortion of reality; the man did not fade, he simply ceased to exist the second he had finished speaking. Syrus could think what he wanted; the hooded man had been considerate enough during his visit in Algeroth, at the very least, that should have been respected. It would have been easier to start a disturbance.

A dark haired Ciozkian and an Isinfieric beauty sat at opposite ends of a table; the table was small and they could easily reach out to one another, if they wanted. The Cizokian looked to be in his late-twenties, no older than twenty-eight, and had very distinguishing features: his jaw-line was chiseled, a slight cleft in his chin, scarlet eyes, and hair that seemed black, but as the light hit in in just the right way, would be a strikingly blue color. The woman was just as distinguished, as well, but more or less held the looks of a traditional Isinfier-born woman: She had blonde hair, blue eyes, taller than most women, but with a more muscular body; that said, she was not grotesquely developed, either. Regardless, one would not gawk at the notion of her being from the warrior nation, not in the least.

“You go too far,” the woman bitterly spat out words to break the silence. “Did you see how he spoke to us yesterday? Like he was our better, can you imagine? The men of these ‘civilized’ countries are foolish, the sea-born warriors of Isinfier would not dare underestimate a potential enemy, but the civilized world? Bah!”

The dark haired Cizokian chuckled and ran his finger across the table, playfully.

“It’s fine,” he reassured her. “It makes our job easier. The newbies are the ones who flaunt their strength and get swarmed; remember, even with our power, we're still human, and they know it. No, starting a cycle of blood won’t get us far. You will learn and grow,” he promised her.

The woman didn’t lose her disgruntled look, but it softened considerably.

“When does it happen? Have you had your fill of fun and games, now?” Her voice teetered on anger and genuine curiosity, “he tires of this, too.”

“Not yet, no.” the black haired man replied right away, “We’re almost ready, but they’re giving off some weird vibes. Prompt, Greoul, and hell, even the ones in Briargate, of all places. We’re going to have to wait a bit longer, A. Some are already heading out, though. Soon, I promise.”

As the man finished speaking, the sudden creaking of a door would fill the small room, and a cloaked individual would walk in; the man and the woman weren’t put off by this in the least, it was almost as if they were expecting it, even.

“The revolutionaries again, huh? I’ll dispose of them,” the Cizokian left as he finished speaking; the woman and cloaked man weren't far behind him.