Kasoria was never much of a gambler. That surprised people, considering what he did, how he made his way in the world. What life could be more dependent on chance, on Fates's rolling dice, than that of a sellsword? Someone who lived in a world where victory was defined by often simple survival and defeat was... final. But Kasoria was ill-remembered for having cards or bones in his hands. Mayhap when he did, it was for coppers or trinkets, nothing of any real import.
He'd been the specter of consequence for too many gamblers who got too deep, too fast, for too long, to romanticize the pastime. Old Vorund had built a hefty chunk of his empire on desperate, degenerate wagerers. Kasoria had washed too much blood off his hands to be fooled into thinking it was a harmless vice. It was no less addicting that stim or smoke or puff or sniff. But there was more to it than that. He simply preferred to stack odds in his favor, and the house never liked that.
Which wasn't to say, he hadn't learned things. Not just the terms and the games and the rules, but the tools to win them.
How to spot a bluff, chief amongst them all. For what gambler's trick was more universal?
The old man kept his fact stony as Kura laid out her hypothesis, which was vibrant with delivery but woefully short on sticking points. Evidence, counterfactuals, rejoinders... Kasoria hadn't heard any of that. Just her personal disbelief that they could not do what she ad hers had not, and so quietly, so efficiently. Kasoria had to keep the smile from his face as the young lady laid out her beliefs, and had to actually squirm his lips for a moment to stop from barking a laugh.
Conduct operations? That's what's bounty-hunting's called now? That's fucking gratitude for you.
Methods and means to... assuage her concerns, started to form and flake and vanish in his mind. A whirlwind of possible counters to her verbal assault. By the time she'd finished, looking warm and open after a vomitous few bits of smug disbelief, Kasoria had a few in mind. They would be risky, but she was the one raising the stakes, here. And her belief depended on one deciding factor: she didn't believe. Kasoria actually did give a small smile at that.
Irony was, after all, a favorite passion of his.
Fagan Manclin was the shot caller here, though, so nothing moved in the room that belong to Etzos without his nod. Once Kura was finished and silence filled the air, Kasoria turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. The nobleman stroked his short beard, lips pursed as if contemplating a counter-offer. That was all the concern he showed on his face, to his credit. Kura clearly hoped to rattle one of them with her accusations, see sweat beads on brows or shifty eyes twitching and ah-ha, the proof! Mayhap the Manclin of two arcs ago might have broken. This one had seen Kasoria slaughter and wasteland beasts devour and bloodied his own hands in ways he never imagined back in the Citadel. There were things Manclin could do and say and think now he'd never considered before.
"do not damage anything"
So when he met Kasoria's eyes and spoke those careful words in broken Ith'ession, Kasoria was not shocked to see the calm on his face. The Raggedy Man of Etzos gave a curt nod back, then snapped his-
-fingers-
-and two walls of shimmering ether sprang into life around the animals in the room. Stretching wall to wall and floor to ceiling, then penned the black wolf in by the fireplace and the owl by the window. Kasoria's oldest and grouchiest Spark sprang into life within the space of a blink, air snapping as the ether barriers displaced air and prevented them from intervening-
Intervening? Interfering? Into what?
That was the tricky part. Kasoria had to give her a window to understand what had happened, and what that meant. But if he gave her too long, she could do... something. Frankly he didn't bloody know what that could be, for you never knew what the fucking Morty-borns could do. Llyr was a lifetime of lessons in that. But she still had to see, and Kasoria would have to gamble on her not being so egotistical that she was incapable of recognizing someone beyond her skills when she saw it.
Something black and amused chuckled in Kasoria's soul. Gambling. That never used to be his way. So much simpler when all he had to do was kill. But now...
Fucking politics.
A heartbeat after the Shields went up, Kasoria raised one finger on his other hand... and Kura would discover she could not move. Shackles of air hard and unyielding as iron chains were wrapped around her from sole to crown. Kasoria allowed himself a hidden fraction of a trill to relish in just how far his powers had come. He'd needed all that arm-waving, spell-shouting nonsense at the start. Focusing his infant ether through words and gestures, taking precious trills for even the simpler stuff. Then it got easier. Faster. Smoother. Didn't need to speak anymore. Then didn't have to gesture. Just had to be in his eyeline and then the time of casting would depend solely on how long it took his Sparks to flash his ether across the air. And here? In an office?
Heartbeats. But not just fast. Strong. Practiced. Honed and carved as muscles. Kura felt them now. Holding her tight so she could not even move her hands or get to her feet. Kasoria allowed her a trill to understand, and just before her outrage spilled out-
"You insult us."
His words were low and his accent subdued, as it usually was when he made the effort. Behind him, Miki and Raand shuffled uncomfortably, more at the potential for consequences and punishment than horror at what their master could unleash. This was, after all, fucking hostage-taking. But they were loyal to their Sarge, and had been since he'd brought them together under Etzos arcs ago. They went along with it, focusing their strength on Maxine between them.
"We bring youse this bitch, who killed yer people, by the fuckin' hundred, and you sneer at us? You scoff at us, for doing what you could not, and demand we tell a tale more to your liking?" Kasoria actually settled back into his seat, posture at ease, even as his will held the constructs of his Spark in complete control. "We didnae know how to ingratiate ourselves with you people. Which is what this is, just so youse don't think we're pretending we're all friends. But it still had to be done, so we searcher fer a way... and found out about her."
He pointed to Maxine, sullen and silent, and turned to face her. Swallowed hard once he was facing away from Kura and spat at her feet.
"A wretch. A junkie. A murderer. I didn't think she'd be so stupid as to still be here and yet, that's where she was. Right here, in Scalvoris. So I went hunting, and when I found her." Kasoria turned back to Kura and his obsidian eyes were white. Ether crackling down his arms like ground lightning. "This is all to make a point. You, and your people, could not subdue her. Because yer not me." Kasoria smiled thinly, with all the warmth of a shark. "It wasn't the easiest fight I've ever had, but restraining a junkie and a drunkard is hardly the challenge of a lifetime. Especially when..."
With a thought, he squeezed the Shackles around Kura. Made the Shields hemming in her familiars pulse with power.
"If yer not grateful, fine. That was a... heh... gamble. If yeh don't appreciate us returning this girl to yeh, and giving youse the chance to have justice, fine. I expect nothing from anyone, especially this far from home. But do not call us liars when you have no proof and please, your grace, do not assume that the limit of what is possible... is what you are capable of."
Kasoria snapped his fingers again, and the magical constructs vanished in less than a heartbeat. He was the final turn of the card, and they all knew it. Kasoria made no more to cast again, draw a weapon, or even stand. She could flood the room with guards or unleash her pets or... whatever other power her sire imbued her with. But that was the play he'd made, and now he had to see where it left them. Kasoria sat staring at Kura, with nether triumph nor sneering sadism in his eyes. Just a low, smoldering annoyance that she had questioned his abilities.
"But yer welcome, in either case."
He'd been the specter of consequence for too many gamblers who got too deep, too fast, for too long, to romanticize the pastime. Old Vorund had built a hefty chunk of his empire on desperate, degenerate wagerers. Kasoria had washed too much blood off his hands to be fooled into thinking it was a harmless vice. It was no less addicting that stim or smoke or puff or sniff. But there was more to it than that. He simply preferred to stack odds in his favor, and the house never liked that.
Which wasn't to say, he hadn't learned things. Not just the terms and the games and the rules, but the tools to win them.
How to spot a bluff, chief amongst them all. For what gambler's trick was more universal?
The old man kept his fact stony as Kura laid out her hypothesis, which was vibrant with delivery but woefully short on sticking points. Evidence, counterfactuals, rejoinders... Kasoria hadn't heard any of that. Just her personal disbelief that they could not do what she ad hers had not, and so quietly, so efficiently. Kasoria had to keep the smile from his face as the young lady laid out her beliefs, and had to actually squirm his lips for a moment to stop from barking a laugh.
Conduct operations? That's what's bounty-hunting's called now? That's fucking gratitude for you.
Methods and means to... assuage her concerns, started to form and flake and vanish in his mind. A whirlwind of possible counters to her verbal assault. By the time she'd finished, looking warm and open after a vomitous few bits of smug disbelief, Kasoria had a few in mind. They would be risky, but she was the one raising the stakes, here. And her belief depended on one deciding factor: she didn't believe. Kasoria actually did give a small smile at that.
Irony was, after all, a favorite passion of his.
Fagan Manclin was the shot caller here, though, so nothing moved in the room that belong to Etzos without his nod. Once Kura was finished and silence filled the air, Kasoria turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. The nobleman stroked his short beard, lips pursed as if contemplating a counter-offer. That was all the concern he showed on his face, to his credit. Kura clearly hoped to rattle one of them with her accusations, see sweat beads on brows or shifty eyes twitching and ah-ha, the proof! Mayhap the Manclin of two arcs ago might have broken. This one had seen Kasoria slaughter and wasteland beasts devour and bloodied his own hands in ways he never imagined back in the Citadel. There were things Manclin could do and say and think now he'd never considered before.
"do not damage anything"
So when he met Kasoria's eyes and spoke those careful words in broken Ith'ession, Kasoria was not shocked to see the calm on his face. The Raggedy Man of Etzos gave a curt nod back, then snapped his-
-fingers-
-and two walls of shimmering ether sprang into life around the animals in the room. Stretching wall to wall and floor to ceiling, then penned the black wolf in by the fireplace and the owl by the window. Kasoria's oldest and grouchiest Spark sprang into life within the space of a blink, air snapping as the ether barriers displaced air and prevented them from intervening-
Intervening? Interfering? Into what?
That was the tricky part. Kasoria had to give her a window to understand what had happened, and what that meant. But if he gave her too long, she could do... something. Frankly he didn't bloody know what that could be, for you never knew what the fucking Morty-borns could do. Llyr was a lifetime of lessons in that. But she still had to see, and Kasoria would have to gamble on her not being so egotistical that she was incapable of recognizing someone beyond her skills when she saw it.
Something black and amused chuckled in Kasoria's soul. Gambling. That never used to be his way. So much simpler when all he had to do was kill. But now...
Fucking politics.
A heartbeat after the Shields went up, Kasoria raised one finger on his other hand... and Kura would discover she could not move. Shackles of air hard and unyielding as iron chains were wrapped around her from sole to crown. Kasoria allowed himself a hidden fraction of a trill to relish in just how far his powers had come. He'd needed all that arm-waving, spell-shouting nonsense at the start. Focusing his infant ether through words and gestures, taking precious trills for even the simpler stuff. Then it got easier. Faster. Smoother. Didn't need to speak anymore. Then didn't have to gesture. Just had to be in his eyeline and then the time of casting would depend solely on how long it took his Sparks to flash his ether across the air. And here? In an office?
Heartbeats. But not just fast. Strong. Practiced. Honed and carved as muscles. Kura felt them now. Holding her tight so she could not even move her hands or get to her feet. Kasoria allowed her a trill to understand, and just before her outrage spilled out-
"You insult us."
His words were low and his accent subdued, as it usually was when he made the effort. Behind him, Miki and Raand shuffled uncomfortably, more at the potential for consequences and punishment than horror at what their master could unleash. This was, after all, fucking hostage-taking. But they were loyal to their Sarge, and had been since he'd brought them together under Etzos arcs ago. They went along with it, focusing their strength on Maxine between them.
"We bring youse this bitch, who killed yer people, by the fuckin' hundred, and you sneer at us? You scoff at us, for doing what you could not, and demand we tell a tale more to your liking?" Kasoria actually settled back into his seat, posture at ease, even as his will held the constructs of his Spark in complete control. "We didnae know how to ingratiate ourselves with you people. Which is what this is, just so youse don't think we're pretending we're all friends. But it still had to be done, so we searcher fer a way... and found out about her."
He pointed to Maxine, sullen and silent, and turned to face her. Swallowed hard once he was facing away from Kura and spat at her feet.
"A wretch. A junkie. A murderer. I didn't think she'd be so stupid as to still be here and yet, that's where she was. Right here, in Scalvoris. So I went hunting, and when I found her." Kasoria turned back to Kura and his obsidian eyes were white. Ether crackling down his arms like ground lightning. "This is all to make a point. You, and your people, could not subdue her. Because yer not me." Kasoria smiled thinly, with all the warmth of a shark. "It wasn't the easiest fight I've ever had, but restraining a junkie and a drunkard is hardly the challenge of a lifetime. Especially when..."
With a thought, he squeezed the Shackles around Kura. Made the Shields hemming in her familiars pulse with power.
"If yer not grateful, fine. That was a... heh... gamble. If yeh don't appreciate us returning this girl to yeh, and giving youse the chance to have justice, fine. I expect nothing from anyone, especially this far from home. But do not call us liars when you have no proof and please, your grace, do not assume that the limit of what is possible... is what you are capable of."
Kasoria snapped his fingers again, and the magical constructs vanished in less than a heartbeat. He was the final turn of the card, and they all knew it. Kasoria made no more to cast again, draw a weapon, or even stand. She could flood the room with guards or unleash her pets or... whatever other power her sire imbued her with. But that was the play he'd made, and now he had to see where it left them. Kasoria sat staring at Kura, with nether triumph nor sneering sadism in his eyes. Just a low, smoldering annoyance that she had questioned his abilities.
"But yer welcome, in either case."