[Open] Smoke Signals

[Alora]

Speech

Thoughts

40th Trial of Ymiden, Arc 718

Alora found herself seated in a darkened smoking den, in a dingy dive not far from the Shield Gate. Laid on the table, were small sampling of cigars she'd purchased from the man running this hole in the wall.

Populating the den were a desperate assortment of cutthroats, mercenaries, thieves and whores. Such was the company she had to take these trials. Where they spent their ill-begotten nels on cheap tobacco, beer, and games of chance.

The room was dark, with what light there was coming from sparse candles. A singular lantern hung behind the counter where the proprietor ran his business. It shone dim, low on oil. The lights shone on the trails of smoke, their blue ribbons moving through the room. They wafted throughout the room in rivulets, trailing out into the street in a miasma of stale sweetness.

Alora sat there for a few moments, soaking in the scene and the scent of desperate men. Another few trills passed, and then Alora took up one of the rolled cigars, and brought it to her lips. She fumbled for the tinderbox in the dark miasma, and lit it up.

Breathing in the ribbons of smoke, the tip of the cigar flared, illuminating faces across the room. For but a moment, as she held in the smoke, she beheld their silent animus. She saw the desperation, ambition, lust, and many emotions besides play on their faces, as they lit up again and again with each inhalation.

The Naer smirked at them. Not for their benefit, but rather enjoying the rush of smoke and essence of fire that lit up inside of her. With every exhalation, the miasma spread through the room. With every inhalation, the fire laid their deepest sense of regrets bare before her eyes.

Before long, she'd smoked the cigar down to her fingers. She enjoyed the bitterness of the cigar smoke, as she came that close to breathing in the embers.

She shook her head, and crushed the cigar out on the table, before pulling out another from it's wrappings.

Her eyes drifted to the door, wondering if anyone more interesting than the current lot would show up.

[Cervantez]

Ymiden 40th, Arc 718

☠ Mood: Stoic
☠ Current Thought: You're in my spot
☠ Current Theme: Flesh & Bone

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☠ Today wasnt one that was normal for the necromancer. Normally he'd be out and about scouring the Yaralon Savannah for ample corpses to use in his research. Today however was different, as he found himself in one of the hole in the wall dive bars near the Shield Gate. Upon entering the establishment , if you could call it that, the lotharro nodded to owner who pointed to where his usual spot, on the rare chances Cerv ever came by, and informed him someone had taken it. Raising a brow, the necromancer looked in the direction of his usual seating and smirked. Ordering a drink he brought it over to the person, who was more or less, interesting to say the least. Sitting the drink in front of the redhead, he made himself comfortable as he looked her over. She had this intimidating look about her. She seemed like a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. It was evident she was probably the best looking thing in the place, looking around to see all the men oggling her dangerous allure, and woman giving scathing glares of envy of her drawing most of the male attention. Being it was customary to treat someone to a drink before partaking of one themselves, Cervantez gave a non-threatening gesture for her to indulge in the free ale. It seems you have drawn some unwanted admiration, and disdain from the patrons of the bar? He said, breaking the silence of the setting they were in, his eyes still pouring over her as she filled the air space with smoke. ☠

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[Alora]

Speech

Thoughts

40th Trial of Season, Arc 718

Alora lit up her cigar, as she absorbed the attention of some few men and disdain from a few of the women. She cared little whatever small thoughts lingered behind their dead eyes. While she became aware of the attention she was getting by being there, Alora wasn't at all concerned. She relished the idea of accepting a duel from anyone of the wastrels and waifs taking residence here. The only privilege they deserved from her was to beat their frame into a mash of bone and flesh, and char the remains. Sometimes she missed the ways of Augiery.

Present at the table, now, was a tall Lotharro, who took it upon himself to offer her a drink. She nodded in acceptance, and gestured with the cigar in her hand that he ought to take a seat. "Have I, Lotharro? Do you have an idea what I do want then? Perhaps it's a hobby of mine to turn up in dives such as these, to get drooled on by ale-soaked men, and glared at by waifs."

She smiled despite the sharpness of her tongue, "But they have eyes, and you at least have a tongue. So talk to me."

She accepted the drink, taking it to the table, and using her hand to warm the fluid within. She set aside her cigar, then grabbed her tinderbox from it's place on the table. With it, she struck another match.

She held the flame just over the ale. The ale was already close to flaming temperature, from being in this dingy, musty bar during a hot summer day. She only needed to coax the flame to impart more of it's heat to the drink, with a token gesture. Within moments, it heated up to the point it was ready to catch flame. The spirits whispering their vapor into the air met with the flame of the match. Soon enough, the flame engulfed the top of the ale.

She leaned back once this cantrip went off without a hitch, leaving the drink to burn it's spirit. Then she turned a critical eye toward the handsome Lotharro, giving him a once over. "What's your name, stranger?"

[Cervantez]

Ymiden 40th, Arc 718

☠ Mood: Stoic, Intringued
☠ Current Thought: She's a Mage!
☠ Current Theme: Flesh & Bone

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☠ This one was definitely going to fit in well here. She had this aura of confidence that most Yari born would be attracted to, not to mention she had this fierce seduction to her, like she could take any man or woman in the place and she probably could. But it wasnt there allure of her physical appearance that drew Cervantez's interest to her, no it was something much more. She was a mage, just like him, which wasnt something he was use to. For the longest time he knew of himself as the only mage in the city, and if there were others, well they surely kept quite about such things. Not that it mattered to him, but his eyes burned just as brightly as the flame she lit up the ale. His eyes zoned in intently on the motions of her hands, trying to assertain the method for her magic, not even paying attention to her words, only coming back from his arcane fascination at the tail end of her words. Cervantez....Cervantez Xeleno. He said in his normal stoicness, still entranced by her ability to light things aflame. He was brimming with questions and she did say to converse with her, what better subject than magic. It seems we share something in common indeed, I surprised and glad another like me has finally shown themselves in my city. He said standing, and for the moment dismissing himself outside, coming back in he held his scythe in hand, and hanging on it was a bag. Coming back to the table he sat back in his seat, planting his weapon firmly into the floor. Taking the bag he carefully laid the contents and his feet. You see, I too, am a mage. He admitted, extending his hand to the pile of bones at his feet, forcing his ether and will into them. There soon after, the rattling of bones shifting together soon gave way to a skeletal form before her. It reached out for her, but Cerv pulled tight on the reigns causing it to snarl and snap its bone maw at the woman. As you see, I dabble in the "darker" magics in our fair world. He said, disconnecting his ether, and allowing the bones to fall to the floor. He slid the pile close, as to not have it in the way, but also to have ready just in case. I'll tell you this much, as a mage, you'll be well sought after. Leaning in his face lit up and was warmed by the flaming mug of ale. Does this mage have a name or should I call you whatever I wish firestarter? ☠

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[Alora]

Speech

Thoughts

40th Trial of Season, Arc 718

Mages were rare individuals indeed, but Alora had no illusions to power. What she'd done to the pint of ale was a mere parlor trick compared to what was possible. Which is why it came as a bit of a shock when Cervantez let loose a skeletal puppet in the shape of some kind of animal, which snapped it's jaws. It only pulled short of her throat by the bidding of Cervantez. He was a dangerous man, and that intrigued Alora, if nothing else.

She moved her hands around the flame of the cup, tracing it with her clawed finger. the flames soon died down, and she took a drink from the ale. It always tasted better when it burned, to her palate.

She placed the ale down by the time Cervantez finished speaking. "Necromancy, eh? That was quite the display of power, Cervantez. I must say though, if that marrowless mutt tries to go for my neck again, I will pulverize it." She leaned back in her chair, and gave him a pleasant smile. "I'm Alora. Originally from Augiery. I must say I didn't expect to find another mage around here, either. We tend to keep a low profile. You never know when you'll run into a foolish zealot that can't abide a display of glory."

She sighed, and waited a moment for him to react to that. After a few trills, Alora leaned forward, "So, what is your story, Cervantez? How is it a big Lotharro like yourself gets drawn into the art of corpse puppetry?"

[Cervantez]

Ymiden 40th, Arc 718

☠ Mood: Stoic, Intringued
☠ Current Thought: She's a Mage!
☠ Current Theme: Flesh & Bone

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☠ I would say its more of a demonstration than a show of power. He assured, watching her as she shifted in position. Besides, I wouldn't be so foolish as to allow my thrall to attack you unprovoked. He added as he reclined into his seat. So she was a Naerikk. Interesting to say the least, as he knew very few Naer. He couldn't say that she wouldn't survive here, he found that those built like the Lotharro and Naerikk, were far better suited to this life in Yaralon and all it entailed. Her comment on the low profile made him chuckle, knowing how his fellow yari felt about mages. If you are worried about drawing attention of the deadly variety, then maybe this is not the city for you. You'll find that mages are valued here, among other things. A mage hunter would be consigning their own death if they were to publicly be about such a thing. He informed the shadow woman, watching as she took a swig of the ale. He inquiry made him smirk, his eyes adverting to the denizens of the smoking den. There are many factors that drew me to necromancy, but the major one was my mother's dying words. Since then I've been trying to find the secrets of the art. He said turning his gaze back the redhead. Now that I've obliged to the magical pleasantries, lets get down to business. He said leaning in on the table as well. What is it that such a domineering presence is able to do with fire?☠

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[Alora]

Speech

Thoughts

She listened to his explanation, which left much to the imagination, and didn't give her a clue to what he meant. The lack of information he'd given her was only mildly intriguing. Although, given, most of the desperate fools she'd lured from smoking dens such as this were all too willing to spill the fetid contents of their mind. They were not interesting in the least, and most of them made up sob stories about why they were in such and such a place at such a time. At least this one knew the value of discretion and personal mystique, or appeared to. For that she owed him a small measure of respect, to start.

She cocked her head to the side as he asked what she could do with flames. After a moment considering him, she smiled. She didn't say anything, but gathered her tinderbox, putting it into her satchel. She left what remained of the cigars on the table, for the rest of the patrons to enjoy.

As she rose from her seat, she checked her weapon on her belt, assuring that the head of her mace was secure in its sheath. Then she cast one look at Cervantez, and began making her way out the bar, and into the streets.

She supposed he might follow, but had no expectations or desire as such. If he wanted a display of her power, though it was humble as yet and unrefined, he wouldn't find it sitting in that dingy little hole in the wall.

Alora went on to walk down the street, her hand still hovering over her mace as she sneered at the featherbelts that shared the road with her. She marked some of them mentally, as having potential. But for now there was only one subject that weighed on her mind.

She walked for about half a break through the street, before coming to a large tenement hall. This was where her apartment was. She swept aside the curtain that divided the interior from the open air of the street. Then she stepped inside.

The halls of the tenement were cramped, and the walls appeared about ready to cave in from the gravity of the stories above. She moved through them without a care.

The stairs took her up to her own apartment, a curtain about three thresholds down from the stairwell. There, she could hear the muffled whimpers of the feckless swordrack that she'd found wandering the streets without a weapon.

She smiled at the middle-aged man in his chair, using her left hand to caress the head of her mace as she thought on his fate. "Whatever will become of you, my graying little featherbelt?"

She approached his chair from behind, caressing his neck and cheeks with her long, claw-like fingernails. "A game, perhaps?" She suggested, to nobody in particular.

Alora didn't even seem to notice Cervantez, anymore, if he had even followed her this far.

[Cervantez]

Ymiden 40th, Arc 718

☠ Mood: Stoic, Intringued
☠ Current Thought: She's a Mage!
☠ Current Theme: Flesh & Bone

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☠ She was certainly an interesting one, her natural mystique luring those around her in like a venus flytrap. Cervantez watched as she moved, trying to discern what exactly she was going to do, since words had not yet formed from her lips. Expecting some grand display of flame he watched her with eyes of intrigue and waited to see what she did. To his surprise however, she gave him a look and a smile with her eyes and left. Chuckling he gathered the bones of his marrow and latched his scythe to his back, before following her out into the streets, not before taking one of the cigars off the table. He made sure to keep his distance, after all he just met the woman, who knows what breed of insane she was, considering he couldnt call himself sane either. She was definite a breath of fresh air for him, but the way she went about things had him concerned to say the least. He didnt mind following her, even if it took them a while to get where they was going. Finally he found she lived in one of the apartments the wealthy rented out to people. Must cost her a pretty piece of nel for sure, even if the condition of the place was less than it was worth. In any case he trailed behind her, keeping a safe distance from her, but was close enough to have her in sight. She came upon an old man, and spoke words that made him smirk. Just what was she going to do to this man?☠

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[Alora]

Speech

Thoughts

Alora grinned at last when she took notice of Cervantez, taking up position a ways from where she was, working the old man over. She only spared the necromancer a few glances. Afterward, her attention turned to the weaponless featherbelt she'd captured the trial before last. He was hers now, in more ways than one. Not a husband, that conferred a degree of respect. He was a pitiful lump of flesh, weaponless and weak. Made only to sate her appetite.

She gripped him by the front of his neck, her claw-like hand tightening around his neck. She kissed along the curve of his jawline, licking the sweat from it. She could feel the inner fire of the old man, declining though it had been in the recent years.

She reached around to his front, tracing the muscles of his abdomen, only hinting that she may have taken care of his needs and wants. Only, he was here to satisfy her. Not the other way around. She brought her hands up his chest, feeling the vital energies running beneath the surface. Her claws turned to tug at his skin as they moved upward, until they reached the front of his neck once more.

"Goodbye, Shual." She whispered in the old man's ear, and then thrust her claw-like fingers into his trachea. The old man's voicebox was thus punctured. After rendering him incapable of screaming out, she unwrapped the gag that was in his mouth, and reached into it. With a small knife produced from her belt, she cut the tongue, ripping it out as she sawed it free.

Her sighs echoed against the walls as it left his mouth. She sampled the blood of the tongue before throwing the now useless organ to the floor.

Her sighing grew louder, until it resembled an unnatural whine that rose in volume. At first it sounded as an echo in an empty room, then began reverberating off the walls. Alora had her mouth on the ear of Shual. A trill or so later, a strange sucking sound began joining the whining of energies flowing around the room. It seemed loud enough that even those outside it could hear as well.

A lingam of bluish energy made an appearance, leaking out of the man's lips like the phantom of the tongue he'd lost. "You always wanted to marry me, Shual, since you met me. Since you found me in that alleyway, wanted us to become one flesh, one soul." She wound her way to sit on his lap, as he shook in agony, "Welcome home... My sweet." So saying, she kissed him.

A low thrumming sound, like blood rushing through one's ears was audible over the sharpness of the singing energies all around them. She lowered her hand to the base of his abdomen, and lit the match she had palmed into her hand while performing those ministrations. It erupted in flame. First as a spark, then as a tongue of flame that peirced his abdominal cavity. She kissed him ever more feirce as the trills passed by, until the whining began to subside.

Once it went silent in the room, she stepped backward, the long worm-like flame protruding from the dead man's abdomen. She made a quick gesture, and the flame entered him. There was movement beneath his skin, a sudden discoloration, and then his abdomen exploded with a fiery report. The terrible stench of sulphurous acids filled the room as his stomach fluids leaked onto the ground.

Alora, for her part, was too lost in the pleasure of having flayed the poor old man to notice the mess she'd made. In a singular breath, while consuming her antagonist's soul, she'd destroyed it with the very same energy.

Aoth had warned her against the dangers of flaying, all those years ago. Now she understood. The old man's soul, as ecstatic as she was now, couldn't have satisfied if an ocean of energies had flown through her at the critical moment. She needed more.

[Cervantez]

Ymiden 40th, Arc 718

☠ Mood: Unbothered
☠ Current Thought: Well that was interesting
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death

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☠ He asked for a demonstration, but this was a little much. A brow raised he watched as she flayed the man, in the simplest of words. She seemed to be enthralled by the act, taking his essence as her own, as if she was a hormonal beast in heat. But in the eyes of the necromancer, It was more so like a ritual sacrifice so some old forgotten deity. He words were haunting and somewhat unsettling to hear, and in it made his skin crawl. Mages had a bad wrap, but if one like her was acting this way, and flaying like she was, he was bound to have to put her down for sure. I asked for a demonstration of your magic, not to bare witness to a ritualistic sacrifice. He said moving toward her, close enough to hold her face in his left hand. His eyes poured over her, and inspecting what could possibly be hiding behind her own eyes. They form of food is dangerous to mages you know, if you are not careful, it'll over take you and then us Yari's will have to end you. He said with a smirk, a twinkle in his eyes at the thought of raising her as a thrall. From her he turned his attention to the body. What a waste, poor wretch, being so hellbent on having something he could never handle. But Cerv held no pity for him, especially if her words were true. To corner a woman or man in an alley away from eyes that can be a fair judge, was deplorable, even if he was the only Yari to see it that way. Don't worry about the body, I'll Have Njama come and take it to my home. So what happen's now Alora, What do you have in mind for us?Care to walk the city, see what Yaralon is all about? Im sure you'll need to walk off that extra soul you just devoured. ☠

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