Closed The Pleasure is All Mine (Elias)

[Sayana]

Summer 46, 517 AV

“Now you’re a smart girl. What do you say about a little extra pocket change?”

Sayana nodded her head vigorously, giving off the impression of a naïve young girl. She wasn’t yet sure what he had in mind, but if it was something she really didn’t want to do, she could always draw a couple of daggers and threaten to cut his throat out, or subtly steer him away with some hypnotic suggestions. Depending on how many people were present, of course.

“So you see, there’s this fellow I’m not so keen about. He’s cheated me in a couple of deals. And I’d like to get to know more about him. Who he works with, his habits, his family and friends, where he likes to go in the evenings, what he does during the day…”

Sayana kept her gaze on him and nodded as appropriate. She wasn’t quite sure if he was lying or not about the situation, but he clearly wanted some detailed information on this man.

“This fellow, he’s of a typical build, somewhat thin and with pale features. Not at all exotic looking like yourself. He might be hard to pick out in a crowd but his face is rather scarred. And another thing, I know that he frequents the, um, House of Immortal Pleasures. Do you know where that is?”

“Oh yes, I’ve been there many times.” Sayana replied, slightly exaggerating her experience with the place.

“Of course you have. Of course you have.” The man replied with a heavy and almost too friendly pat on her shoulders. “So have we a deal? I’ll be sure to ride your ravosala again over the next few days. And maybe your service will be good enough to warrant a generous tip.”

With that, the well-dress man palmed a coin in his hand and reached out to shake one of hers. A flicker of feigned surprise flashed over her face as she took the silver miza, but internally she was annoyed at how little he thought her services were worth. Still, she gave a gracious nod and pocketed the coin.

“And one more thing,” the noble added as he stepped out of the ravosala. “His name is Elias Caldera.”

---

For the rest of the day, Sayana found herself intently curious. The man hadn’t offered his own name at the time of the bargain, but he also didn’t have very high expectations of her. While she was tempted to visit the House of Immortal Pleasures earlier in the day, she assumed it would be a futile endeavor as places like that received most of their customers at night, and it would only be suspicious for her ravosala to be idling around during the very ‘unbusy’ daytime.

As such, she carried on with her work, keeping her eyes and ears peeled but finding no additional information on this Elias guy. She also wondered what her new client might use the information for. Was he planning to renege on a deal? Lay a trap in an ally to beat this man up? Go the entire way to conduct an assassination? It was suspicious, but she couldn’t quite tell the motives behind this noble. It wasn’t part of her job to know, yet the questions ticked through her mind anyways.

When Syna finally began to set, lanterns started to come out to take her place. Most bridges tended to have a lantern placed at either end to keep ravosalas from colliding head on with the structures, but apart from that, only establishments that had nightly activities would light the way for their customers.

Sayana in fact, had her own lantern which she lit at one of the city lights. It was small and rather quaint, but it gave a soft glow for both potential passengers and ravosalas alike. The waters had also calmed for the night. They were practically still as only the occasional ravosala skimmed over the surface. To be frank, her poling was still poor and inadequate, but on a calm night without any rush, she could take her time and just be careful about not getting stranded in the middle of the canal.

With a strong shove with her pole, she propelled the vessel forwards in the direction of the House of Immortal Pleasures. She was garbed in a red and black dress with a cloak over her shoulders to keep off the evening chill. The cloak also had the added benefit of concealing her mid and low arms (that is, at first glance), and also the set of six daggers she carried at her side.

The Eypharian smiled as she heard sounds of life and laughter emanating from the whorehouse, and as she neared she could see some of the drunken staggering of men either coming or leaving. Finding herself at an awkward angle and much too far from the edge of the docks, she gave a rough shove with her pole causing the ravosala to give off a loud splash as it wobbled sideways towards the wooden platform.

Trying to peer into the floors above, Sayana was reminded of her plans to start making contacts in the whorehouse. Sometimes they were well paid, sometimes not, but usually they weren’t beneath earning some extra coin. A rumor here, a whisper there…

She was suddenly startled out of her train of thought when she realized her gaze had unknowingly landed on a slim pale figure, bathed in the lantern light. It wasn’t just his physique, but the way he kind of idled in front of the brothel. Was he the man? She wasn’t near enough to see any signs of scars, but it didn’t mean they weren’t there. But with such an average looking appearance, there could be hundreds of people out there who looked just like him. And dozens who happened to visit brothels.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

"For the last time whore, I'm not interested, now petch off and take that stink of week old fish with you before I lose my lunch."

As if slapped, all facade of lust and longing melted away from her face in that instant, the words echoing across the lantern lit street a bit too loud even for the Caldera's liking. It was replaced all too soon with such a look of indignation and scorn that Elias almost felt the need to reach for his dagger lest he needed to defend himself. He had little time to do anything of the sort however, before he recognized the vile, hocking sound she was making with the back of her throat. The wad of unfortunately colored phlegm splattered upon his boot with too little warning, and was curtly followed by a string of curses and obscenities so wretched they would have made even a Zeltivan sailor blush. Most involved the size of his 'pecker' naturally, but there were a few interesting caveats within the raging storm of malice spewing forth from between her painted lips that particularly caught the mage's attention. Questions of his sexuality that were shocking to say the least. Plus something rather vile about his mother and a goat. It all ended abruptly with a squeak as Elias, hissing in irritation, made to strike the woman, sending her scampering back off into the darkness that had no doubt birthed her ill begotten evil.

It was a full chime before the whore's hollering into the night finally fell out of earshot.

With a groan, the Ravokian fell back into his slump, shoulder against lamp post and backside against the uncomfortable crevice where post and canal railing met. He rubbed at his temple with gloved hands, sighing as he tried to fathom what time it was. The view of the clock tower was obscured from this part of town, but he already knew his answer; late.

Too damn late.

After wasting so many bells loitering outside the Immortal Pleasures, waiting for his quarry to finally reveal itself, Elias had planned on simply staying the night. The thought being, why not treat himself after all his hard work, he certainly deserved it after all. A particular concession he had been making more and more often these days he realized, but one that was more likely no longer an now after what had just transpired. That exceptionally disgruntled prostitute had been about the fifth or sixth one to approach him that night, and after so many charade filled apologies and excuses, the Caldera simply hadn't had the patience to do it all over again. He was hoping she would do him the courtesy and spread the word around to the other girls so that he would finally know some peace, but considering all the death threats he'd counted during her vicious tirade, it was more likely he'd be receiving a visit from the Immortal's bouncers than anything else.

Another sigh as his hand fell to his side where his sheathed sword lay in wait, tucked neatly behind him against the railings and out of sight. Brushing his fingers against the worn hilt of the blade brought him a smattering of comfort, but he knew it would never be enough.

What was he even doing here anymore?

The night was one that promised distraction and delight unending. Every store front in the plaza was awash with a dazzling plethora of lights, each one desperate to steal the attention from the other and lure unsuspecting perusers inside. Similarly, the sound of laughter and cheer poured from every street corner at that bell, tantalizing snippets of enjoyment had by others that taunted and tormented him to no end. Even the waters of damned canals shimmered in that special way they only could under Leth's gentle, welcoming illumination... and here he was, prowling the night from one tavern or brothel to another like some perverted were-creature with no good sense to just stop its meandering and simply enjoy itself while it had the petching chance.

With arms crossed across his chest, the beast threw back his head in exasperation and growled a growl befitting his self imposed monstrous nature. No, he chided himself. diligence, Elias. It had been three days now of this, of endless stake outs and waiting, but the night prowler had to remind himself it would all be worth it... eventually. He just needed to find that certain someone with all the right qualities he needed. They would show themselves soon, he knew they would, and he wasn't leaving until they-

The sound of a loud splash interrupted the mage's consoling thoughts, and thinking it had been another drunken lout falling into the canal, he peered over his shoulder to enjoy the show. There was always a good laugh to be had in watching some fool drown, and considering the mood he was in, Elias felt he deserved as much if his night was to continue on so wretchedly. As faith would have it however, the disturbance had emanated from a ravasolaman maneuvering himself and his lithe vessel into place. The Ravokian tutted and returned his attentions back to the front door his wary gaze had been transfixed upon for so long now.

However, his was not the only notice the clumsy pilot had garnered. Elias watched in growing wonder and awe as the fat, slovenly drunkard came stumbling into his cross hairs. With a gasp, the Caldera found himself utterly enraptured with the beautiful sight unfolding before him.

Needless to say, the bulging buffoon was far from the first fool to come tumbling out of the Immortal Pleasures that night, in fact many a poor sod had crumbled out of that whorehouse like so much sand stripped of both wealth and good sense by drink and sticky fingers in equal measure. This one though, this one was special; with his boisterous, bombastic bellowing, and the way he flung mizas around like it was rice at a wedding. He had every girl there parting their blouse and giggling at him in typical fashion as they dipped to pick up their golden earnings off the cobblestone. Staring at him from across the street, Elias felt as if he were gazing into the heavans as they parted just for him.

"Finally... You're perfect..." He muttered to no one.

Then disaster loomed its ugly head as the lout, his fine garments glittering in the moonlight thanks to both the gaudy fabric he wore and the copious amounts of wine spilled upon it, turned to face the ravosalaman now coming to a stop nearby.

Oh no no no, shyke!

Elias shoved himself from his nook with a start, mind hard at work as he began making his way towards the man. The two had been on an unintended intercept coarse thanks to the ravasola setting up shop so nearby the Ravokian, forcing the young man to think on his feet. A name! A name! I need a name. He looks like an S... S....Ummmm... Severus, Septimus? Shyke, come on!

"Salvarius! Salve, my old friend. Is that you, you dog? Its me, Elias. Elias Caldera. How are you, you old such and such?"

The words were empty, hollow things without meaning or context, but they served their purpose exquisitely. Harbingers of the arcane and all together ominous art, the hypnotist laced each syllable with a thick, dripping dab of djed that dared to delve and disseminate into every grasping hook its tendrils could find. The magic slithered forth like serpents unleashed, and by the time the wizards calloused and scarred hands had clasped the fat man's shoulders, dare Salvarius was enveloped by the power's trance.

"Salve, you're drunk again." Elias admonished jokingly. Who is this man? Can't trust him. Can't trust him! Don't listen to what he says! Even as the two 'friends' embraced and patted one another -Well Elias patted anyway- it was clear the hypnotic suggestions were already taking effect. The hug was awkward and unwanted, no surprise there considering the two had no idea who the other was, but Salve looked more than just surprised, he looked disgusted. Don't talk to it, don't even acknowledge it. Don't believe what it has to say.

"Salve come now, here, hop in my ravosala and I'll see you safely home. We wouldn't want you falling in the canal like last time, would we?" Elias chuckled jovially, hands reaching out to guide the red cheeked ravokian to his ride. But the big man resisted, eyes panicked as he shoved aside the mage's grasp and nearly tumbled to the floor in his hasty retreat. He gawked one final time at the scarred stranger, swallowed hard and floundered away into the night, the ravosala all but forgotten in his dire escape.

Turning without a word, Elias moved back to his old perch and snatched his sword from his hiding place, nonchalantly slinging the weapon over his shoulder via its leather straps. As he moved to leave in his pursuit of the fat man now slowly disappearing down the street however, blue eyes took note of the pilot whose fare, unbeknownst to him, the hypnotist had just scared off. He gave the cloaked figure an apologetic shrug before refocusing his attention on the bait he had just set loose into the night. In particular, his eyes lingered on the small piece of paper he had tucked away in the man's pocket during their short lived 'reunion'. A paper upon which meany a strange and ancient writings had been inked.

"Oh Salve." Elias murmured beneath a smile, tone low and dark as the farce of friendship in his voice fell away. "Do be careful, my old friend. Its dangerous out at night."

That title thoIts a real good one.

[Sayana]

It was as though setting her gaze upon the man caused him to come to life. The previously still and stoic figure moved into action as a much larger and bumbling man staggered across the docks. He was coming towards her, well they both were, and she hooked her pole around one of the wooden posts of the wharf to steady the ravosala.

Yet the greeting between old friends suddenly gave light to something entirely unexpected. Elias Caldera. The name stuck in her throat just like her breath. She froze where she sat and was at once grateful for her role as a ravosalaman with no dire need to go anywhere or continue doing something as she took in the situation at hand.

In the flickering glow of the lantern light, Sayana watched as the scene continued to play out. Elias appeared to be helping an old friend, yet only moments prior he had been lying in wait like a lion ready to pounce. Or maybe it had been some coincidence in the timing.

The fat man didn’t take to him very well though. The Eypharian assumed it was the excessive drink that had him spilling onto the deck in confusion and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the scene. Yet it was also in that moment that she realized she was about to miss out. They had so neatly been coming to her boat, but now…

“Ravosala!” She called out in a soft but clear voice. “Good Sir, wouldn’t it be wise to see that your friend is alright?” There was a pause as she channeled djed to her lips. Her next words were like honey but although she said one thing, she sought to plant a different idea within his head.

“Or at least let me take you home for the night?” A ravosala could trail my friend silently and out of sight.

She wasn’t sure how long he had been standing outside the brothel, but at the same time he showed no sign of eagerly returning to its nightly festivities. It was a gamble, and not the best sort of draw, but luck had already shone its light upon her. She not only had a face to match a name, but also the name of a friend or at least an acquaintance. Salvaris, was it? Now that was an easy man to track if need be. All she’d have to worry about was finding him in a gutter and getting spittle or worse on her clothes.

Taking her small lantern in her high hands and keeping the boat steady using the pole in her mids, she illuminated her face. Unlike most ravosalamen, she was in fact a lady, and she didn’t mind at all trying to use that as one additional advantage.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

The cry of the ravosalaman was one Elias had been familiar with his entire life, and that night had been no exception. Much like the whores who buzzed about him like flies, he had had to ward off a number of pilots trying to catch his attention from the canal waters as well. Unlike the whores however, none had ever implied he slept with barn animals when he turned them away. There was something there to be said about the courtesy of those who cruised the flowing streets of Ravok at least. There was even more to be said about their expertise however. Many could trace the waterways like the contours on the face of a lover, capable of mapping them without hesitation or flaw thanks to so many years of navigating their gentle, fluid paths.

Elias knew that on foot, he'd have a better vantage from which to pursue his prey, but at that moment it was as if the woman's -not entirely uncommon, but certainly unexpected- voice had dropped a weight upon his chest. All at once the strain and aches he had accrued from lying in wait against that accursed light post reemerged from wherever they had been hiding, surging through his tired muscles and sore bones with renewed vigor. He groaned under his breath, step catching midway as he instead swiveled about to face the craft docked alongside the wharf. What he found there waiting for him upon its prow however, left the Ravokian quite dead in his tracks. Now bathed in the glow of the lamp she held above her head, Elias found himself practically gawking at a sight of such alluring elegance he wondered if he'd actually fallen into a dream. With skin of radiant ebony and lips as pursed and perfect as the statues of the Voice that adorned the Temple of the Black Sun itself, the mage was concerned this brown eyed beauties siren's call was the first part of some retaliation by the ladies from the Immortal Pleasure, for surely such a woman as this could have come from nowhere else but where charm and grace were things to be cherished and bought for bells at a time. Though the damnable cloak she wore obscured the rest of what his eyes so desperately sought beneath, what he had observed so far was enough for Elias to know he had to get on that boat.

"You want to take me home, do you?" The scarred man cooed, smirking as he licked his pale lips. He resumed his march, but this time toward the woman, his focus resting ever so subtly on the arm that held aloft the lantern, along with the... other pair of arms that held unto the pole. Oh yes, he was definitely coming aboard, there was no more doubt of that.

"You're right." Elias continued, embarking upon the curious woman's ravosala with a grace and deftness that came naturally to any Ravokian who'd been around the vessels since youth. "My friend is a proud, proud man. So much so he'd never admit to being unable to... rise to the occasion," a short, suggestive glance back at the whore house, "let alone not being able to even walk himself home after a late night of cavorting."

The craft rocked precariously for the first time as the mage plopped himself into his seat facing the one he now entrusted to see him and his good friend Salve 'home' as it were. His sword was in his lap as he leaned back into his chair, relaxing with a sigh against the bow of the sleek little boat. Needless to say, his attention was fully captivated by the dark eyed delight at the other end, and as a man with little shame to his name anymore, Elias did little to hide how his eyes danced across her mesmerizing figure, as if his wicked blue orbs could see beyond the cloak she'd veiled herself in.

"We should follow, as you say. Not too close to injure his pride of course, but close enough that I can be at his side should he injure anything else... He took a left at Corrin's Crossing" He finished, pointing vaguely at the bridge up ahead with a whimsical flick of his wrist. Most names for Ravok's bridges were short lived and completely unofficial. In a city where the very makeup of the streets could be changed in a few bells thanks to the independence every floating platform that created the unified whole held, bridges and paths were just something one had to cope with being there one day, and gone the next. It wasn't common of course, but it left an imprint on the people who lived with such predicaments. Crossings that never changed however, the ones that had remained stalwart and in place since their inception, were the kind that earned the names everyone knew. Corrin's Crossing was one such bridge, for everyone knew it as the fastest way into the plaza of Dark Delights, and more importantly, the fastest way out.

How Elias had known Salvarius had crossed it being that the man had long since disappeared from sight, was going to be his little secret to keep. All that was mere circumstance now, for all the Caldera had concern for was the one who'd lured him so easily into her enchantress's trap. "Oh, and please I beg of you my dear, don't tarry too far behind and lose track of old Salve now, or they'll be fishing whats left of you out of these canals come morning."

His childish grin belied the white knuckled grip tightening around his blade's hilt.

"Now then, I insist you and I become properly acquainted. We can begin with you telling me all your secrets"

[Sayana]

“Oh did I say…?” Sayana started, but in a flustered voice. “I just meant if you needed to be home by a certain bell, I could take you…”

Her eyes caught his icy blue gaze and held it for a moment, her heart beating quickly in her chest. Then without breaking eye contact she gave a slow purposeful smile. If nothing else, that was completely genuine. He had taken the bait, whichever it had happened to be, and was now setting foot inside her ravosala.

Instinctively, she reached out with one of her mid hands to steady the boat, hand on the dock, but it seemed he hardly needed it as he smoothly came aboard. There was a split tick of true nervousness as she wondered if she’d be able to maneuver the ravosala well enough to track his friend, but she could always think of a Plan ‘B’ if that part didn’t work out.

The Eypharian continued her guise of a naïve and innocent young woman as she set the lantern down between them and brushed her hair back as though it were a nervous habit. He seemed to genuinely know and care for his friend, to an extent, and she tried to recall why it had felt a bit off earlier. As her companion sat down heavily, the lantern stuttered and she quickly reached out with a high hand to keep it steady.

Sayana shifted under his gaze, trying to get her pole in position to steer the boat, but also adjusting her cloak using her high hands so it stayed mostly covering her shoulders. For half a tick she let it slip, revealing the rich red bodice of her dress, but in moments covered up again.

At his mention of leaving, she gave a quick push off with the pole. It was less than elegant but got them started on their way. When he pointed the way, she was relieved to follow his direction. Still fairly new to the city, she had not yet learned all its ins and outs and was grateful when her passengers would give hints as to the direction. Voluntarily or not.

With another few shoves with the pole, they were skimming smoothly over the calm waters as the lantern light flickered upon the ripples.

Sayana looked curiously at him as he made his unveiled threat. Sure it was in the form of a jest, but she failed to show any real signs of fear as she stared blankly back at him and his sword sheathed upon his lap. It was only after several moments had passed that she realized that she could have been better in character. As if realizing her mistake, she spoke up quickly to his next request and resumed her light and somewhat anxious voice.

“All my secrets? But good sir, only my Lord Rhysol would be privy to all of those. Maybe, maybe one or two. If you promise not to tell…”

At first Sayana intended to spew out a series of stories, ones that would all be of a moment’s fabrication. However, as she paused to consider, she realized she had a few exceptionally good ‘secrets’ she could share with the Ravokian. Perhaps a little embellished though.

The Eypharian gave a push off a dock and propelled the boat towards the bridge. The waters were calm with not many other boats about, making it easier to navigate.

“Alright, my first secret, well maybe not so much a secret, is that I’m from the city of Ahnatep, a city in the south. But what is a secret, is that I ran away from home a few years ago. All I left was a note and only once did I try to write to my family back home. And I never heard back.”

“The other secret…” She took a deep breath and leaned in with a whisper. “Rhysol guide me. The other secret, is that I once fell in love with a Syliran knight. Promise you won’t breathe a word to anyone else. This was before I knew of Rhysol’s glory. Before I came here.”

She straightened up and resumed her earlier posture. They had just gone under the bridge, Corrin’s Crossing, and she aimed her pole for one of the supports to thrust them forwards. She looked around the darkened scene and tried to follow the edge of the buildings with several small prods with her pole. She couldn’t exactly identify any staggering fool in the dark, but it didn’t mean they had lost Mr. Salveris completely.

“What of you? Have you lived here all your life? What of your family?”

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

A giggle wormed its way out of him as the woman spoke, one which eventually evolved into a chortle, and before long said chortle had erupted into a full blown cackle as Elias's laughter resounded across the deserted canal waters to such a degree that it made even the man laughing uncomfortable at its vehement nature. With quite a bit of effort he eventually managed to to suppress his raucous mirth, a herculean endeavor that in end required a stifling hand over his mouth. "We-" He began, still chuckling as he rubbed at the bridge of nose, "We didn't even haggle for that." He finally managed. "And yet here I am, with more on my plate in a few ticks with you than I've been able to wrest out any other bloody ravasolaman in months. I know I'm charming, but goodness me, you've left me quite flattered with the freeness of your candidacy."

With an exaggerated gesture, the mage wiped an imaginary tear from his eye before carrying on a with an amused sigh. "Oh, she wants to know about me now does she," he guffawed, eyes rolling as the apparent hilarity of the conversation came rolling in once again. "After what I've just heard I'd tell you anything you wanted if I wasn't so sure the very next sod who hopped in this boat after I leave was going to hear all about it. Oh no, my dear, my secrets will stay mine and mine alone for now, I think. There just so much... wonderfully distracting about you though."

He leaned in now, sword all but forgotten in his lap as he clasped his hands together in deepening consideration of this pretty new plaything that had stumbled into his midst. He was hopeless to resist the mystery she provided, and he fully intended to savior it all before this night was through.

"I don't just mean what you said either, mind you. There's quite a bit else that bewitches my curiosity here. For example; what kind ravosalaman -woman, pardon me- wears such a fine... hmmm, what is that taste, is it satin?" The mage's lips began to smack preposterously, tongue lapping at the air like a snake checking the wind for its next meal. "Yes, satin dress to work ferrying strange men to and fro across the city? That's not even to mention the well worn pair of daggers I'm sensing at your hip either." The word slipped from the mage's tongue before he had chance to catch it, and the irritation flashed across his marred features for all but the briefest of moments.

'Sensing.' Idiot!

As inexplicably mysterious as this woman was quickly becoming, he doubted the subhuman even had slightest concept of what auristics was, let alone that he had been using the sight beyond sight to reveal meager things like the composition of her dress, not to mention how it had been helping him follow Salvarius as he'd been doing so far. Well, technically not Salvarius himself per say, but the heavily glyphed piece of parchment he'd masterfully slipped into the drunk man's pocket when they'd embraced earlier. The miniature scroll had heavily imbibed upon a multitude of unstable magics Elias had been feeding it for the past couple of days. So fat and unruly had it become through its unhealthy diet that it had grown to such degree even the most amateur of aurists would have been keenly aware of its glorious vibrancy nearby. Of course, it also helped that the glyphs themselves that contained said magic had been purposely left... ambiguous to put it mildly. The result was quite a hilariously precarious bomb which at any moment could go off with the faintest of farts, taking quite a sizable chunk out of poor Salve's backside, along with any city block he just so happened to be passing by. That all said, the aura it gave off was quite the enthralling shade of angry red, and the way it pulsated against the backdrop of the cityscape made it oh so easy to latch unto at any given moment. It was quite a stroke of genius if he did say so himself. That was to say, not so much the blowing up part, but the rest of it. Oh yes, the rest of it was definitely top notch sorcery on his part.

"Here's what I think," Elias continued, not missing a beat as he proceeded to tease the helpless girl. "While the way you're manhandling that poor pole there does provide for an enjoyable opportunity for innuendo, it speaks to your unfortunate inexperience with the thing. So I'm calling it now, I'm convinced you're the estranged heir to a powerful Ravokian family that's recently fallen on hard times, and in order to care for your ailing father, you've bravely taken to the canals of the city, stealing this ravasola and dedicating yourself to the art of ferrying people across Ravok every night like the common man to earn your fortune back, possibly even fighting crime along the way in your daunting quest to reclaim your family's honor and save your once great house. Am I close?"

The smirk on his lips as he jested at the Eypharian's expense could almost been called genuine, had not the one wielding it known better. There was just something about this foppish fruitcake of a persona he'd adopted on the fly and then been forced to keep that compelled him to speak of the absurder things in life like fine brandies and the current market prices of his slave stock. A welcome diversion from the usual brooding and butchery that was the real Elias this facade hid so neatly. He felt the desire to indulge further, to enjoy himself, but something about those daggers now nagged at the back of his thoughts and he couldn't quite shake it, no matter how hard he tried. Like needles trying to pry their way into his head, he couldn't quite shake the stinging concern behind what he was feeling off the aura's these two blades emitted. There was blood there, just as thick as the red swathes that smeared his own tool's auras. Whose blood though? Perhaps his blood soon if he wasn't careful. And why where they so timeworn? Did she unknowingly purchase a cheap set, or was it a testament to how long she's been using them? And what about-

"And what about this tragic tale of gallant knights and love lost." He chirped, dark thoughts running rampant behind inquisitive eyes that tried to distract from what they concealed. "What is one to do when confronted by the fact that he's currently sharing a ravosala with someone whose cavorted with the big bad enemy of their most holy city?" The aurist inquired, voice quaking with dubiousness. "Do I run, screaming into the night looking for the nearest Stryfer, or do I count my lucky stars I picked a ride with such interesting company?"

"You can slow down by the way, I'm afraid my friend isn't so accustomed to waddling at such high speeds. He's currently relieving himself of this afternoons lunch in an alley... I mean I'm guessing, of course."

You are the model of subtlety, Elias.

[Sayana]

With the giggle, came the laugh, and at first Sayana could only stare at him with a confused expression which soon turned into one of great discomfort. Whether intentionally or not, he had struck a nerve. She did not like being laughed at.

As she attempted to maintain her guise and her composure, it was like watching a wet kitten struggle to appear dignified. She shifted on her seat and fondled the pole to provide any sort of distraction, meanwhile choosing instead to focus on steering the ravosala as his incessant laughter continued.

When it finally died down, her cheeks were warm, and her lips pursed. The only benefit of the whole charade was that she had still maintained her act, although with a serious stab to her dignity. He hadn’t been susceptible to the exchange of information but neither did he seem interested in leaving anytime soon. Apparently she had become his source of entertainment for the night.

There was a moment in which she wanted to fling her hypnotism at him in full force without caring about the consequences, yet she was off-balance and seemed to have misjudged his mind and personality. So long as he could just continue to under-estimate her, she might see another opportunity.

His comment about her dress cause a high hand to fly speedily to her bosom. Despite the fact that it was mostly obscured by her cloak and the mere moment’s view earlier, he identified the material quickly and accurately. “I… I…” she stuttered, once again hiding behind her persona.

But the daggers. The daggers had been concealed from the start and… Although she missed his slip in the wording, the irritation that flashed across his face was intense and unexpected. In the lingering moment after, she managed to recall what he had said moments prior and that’s when she identified the slip up for what it was worth. He wasn’t just the observant sort who made good guesses. He used the magical sight.

Well that ruined a few plans. But it was also an interesting tidbit of information. At the same time, she wondered why he hadn’t called her out on her earlier nudge of hypnotism.

As her fingers gripped tightly around the pole of the ravosala, it was as though he called her out again and she glared back indignantly. With a raised nose and tight small movements with the stick that steered the boat, she listened as he painted a beautiful picture of her apparent situation.

“Don’t you dare speak ill of my father and family!” She spoke, voice raised as she leaned over to slap him in the face with a high hand. Yet even as she did so, there was this hesitation as though she realized how utterly unprofessional it would be to complete the act. And so, if he didn’t stop her slowing hand, she would do so herself.

This time as she composed herself, her high arms folded to cross her chest. She continued to look darkly at him as her mids carried out the labor of poking docks and buildings with her embellished stick.

“I don’t think you of all people would run screaming anywhere. Unless you were screaming of laughter at someone. Fine. I do come from a bit of wealth. And what’s the matter with wearing something elegant while working? And I did not steal this ravosala. I bought it with my hard earned…” She gave the Ravokian another glare. “I bought it fair and square.”

She looked around in the dark trying to spot some sort of evidence of his friend. Yet the few lanterns that were out showed no sign of the blundering fool. Perhaps she’d have to look forward to a splash instead.

With a sigh she undid the hot confines of the cloak around her shoulders and set the bundle upon the floor at her feet. “Clearly you don’t care, unless you want to make fun of my arms too.” The dress, now in full view had a red bodice that melted into a black skirt. At her hip were the two daggers, about a foot long each, that he had noted earlier as well as four smaller ones. She didn’t wear any embellishments although if one looked at her chest, they would find thin scars upon it and further down, yet beneath her dress, a lacun mark.

Her low hands moved to her lap, smoothing out the wrinkles of her dress. As if by accident, she brushed one of her low hands against one of her daggers. “And these, these are just for my protection. But you already knew about them. To ward off any unwanted advances. Pa always said to keep them handy just in case. And besides, I’m saving myself for a true Ravokian. Not like the last one.”

She fought the urge to rest her low hands comfortably upon her daggers, and instead folded them neatly in her lap. The ravosala had almost completely stopped in the calm waters and she gave a small push with her pole to get it moving again, more for appearances sake rather than any need to be somewhere. She wondered at his friend and then was suddenly reminded of his auristics. Perhaps he did know said whereabouts far better than she.

“Is he really your friend?” She blurted out suddenly. It was time to take a chance, whether she believed it or not. She caught his gaze, mentally readying her djed. “You’ve hardly even looked for him, yet here you are laughing at his expense while he might be retching in an alley.”

This time as she caught his eye, she let the soft caress of djed seep past through their gaze. Like a lover’s touch it was faint and subtle, yet deep and stirring. Imbued was the suggestion, the drive to impress. Impress her with your talents.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

He’d almost been struck, almost been touched by non-human hands, and still his attention was wrested elsewhere. The Eypharian had even relieved herself of the stifling cloak that had defied his debased gaze up until now, dropping any pretense of modesty it had provided and finally revealing the voluptuous form Elias’s meager probing of her aura had teased him with… and still he could not focus. No, his eyes for the ravosalawoman, both physical and arcane alike, were affixed solely to one thing and one thing alone.

Those daggers.

They personified every worry and inclination a lifetime of bloodletting had borne in the soldier, and he couldn't get them out of his head. Those daggers beckoned to him, jeered at him, but he couldn’t understand the words nor the colors. There were even more of the them now, all previously hidden upon her form, and their voices added to the crescendo that disquieted the mage so. How had he missed them? How had she hidden the bloody things from his otherworldly sight? Were they a threat, or a warning? The auras were a miserable mess in his head, a whirling dervish of nonsensical shades and sensations that boggled the increasingly restless mind feebly trying to sift through the haze.

It was stark contrast to Salve’s own aura, one who Elias had been latched onto with a veritable death grip since the magic’s inception. In the short time since they’d met outside the whorehouse, the aurist had learned everything there was to know about the fat slaver and more; the number of coins jingling in his purse, the numbness in his toes thanks to wearing shoes a size too small, the way he favored his right wrist thanks to some injury he'd sustained probably days ago now. Hell, Elias even knew the man was a slaver because of the bills of sales in the wretched slob’s possession. He knew the ink the auctioneers at the slave markets used well, a distinct blend of brews and compounds that made the mark difficult to reproduce to say the least. Obviously an endless source of ire for those who sought to forge its design, but it also served as a telltale indication of the kind of business a man was in when his fingers were coated in its residue as thick as a butcher’s was in blood.

That was the level of detail the Ravokian had gouged from this slovenly stranger within chimes of touching him, because that was how good he was at reaving secrets from the murals of man. Elias was a great damn aurist, and yet while Salve’s life was laid bare before him like a map for his hands to trace and chart, this damnable woman continued to thwart his every incursion into her privacy like he was a mere child grasping at pretty lights. It would have been infuriating had he not been having so much fun with trying to figure it out.

There was nothing about her that shouldn't have put the killer on edge. So stunning a woman had no place wobbling atop a ravosala at night, quibbling over coin and hushed words. And he hadn’t failed to notice the way his threats and insults had darkened her mood either. She wasn’t afraid of him, it was clear, but she wasn’t even threatened.

He didn’t like that, or at least he shouldn't have.

He was having far too much fun with this girl and that was the problem. While everything from instinct to common sense was screaming to get away, some other force entirely was holding his mistrustful nature at bay, keeping him aloof and unaware. The daggers, the unease, the way the rest of the world’s auras were in dismal disarray while all but one remained crystal clear… There was too much wrong here to ignore any longer, but what-

“Oh my god… I’m drunk.” The Caldera murmured between breaths, eyes glazed over in shock as they stared blankly into the dim and darkening parade of lights that was the distant heart of the of plaza. He blinked, recognition returning to his blue hues a moment later as he remembered, to his chagrin, he was not alone on the canal that night. “I’m drunk.” He reaffirmed, tone shifting to something more solid as his weight did the same to something more upright and engaged. His gaze returned to the Eypharian, something abashed and remorseful about them now. “And clearly that has seen my usually good manners and gentlemanly decency falter somewhat.”

Petching Salve!

“I’ve offended you, clearly, and for that I am terribly ashamed.” What has he done to me? “You’ll have to believe me when I say I’m not usually so brazen and rude, you see, especially to those I find so… enticing.” That fat cocksucker has poisoned me! All that cheap wine and swill water ale. He’s poisoned me! "I pray that you'll allow me the chance to apologize for such uncouth behavior."

All the alcohol, all the drunken stupor and dulled senses, it was all coming from Salve’s aura, all of it! Not just some cloudy glaze that coated the outside, his drunkenness was ingrained into every shade and swirling pigment that made up the man. It was Salve. And ever since he’d laid eyes on the fool and realized just how impeccably suited to his plans he’d be, Elias had been swimming in those undercurrents of inebriated idiocy, guzzling it all down like so many casks of wine in his never ending greed for more.

Elias was drunk because Salve was drunk.

The realization was spectacularly horrifying.

Is that even possible? Yet even before the words had finished echoing throughout the halls of his mind, already an answer was shouting back at him. If the aurist had to resist to urge to gag because he could literally taste the cattail stew Salvarius was currently coating some poor alleyway wall with, was it so inconceivable then to imagine other aspects of an aura influencing the one who was studying them so intently? Perhaps... perhaps being aware of its effects on him would deaden them? Or then again, perhaps it would only heighten the nauseating consequences. Regardless, the aurist, even suspecting what he did, was uncomfortable relinquishing his grasp on his prize so soon. He’d embedded his senses deeply into Salve for a reason, to risk letting that connection go now, at such distance, at such an uncertain time...

“I’m actually a very good friend to have.” Elias heard himself saying for some reason. “In fact, I’m such a good friend, everyone wants to know the great Elias Caldera.” Ah, now he knew what was happening. He may have other problems right then, but there was still another quite close at hand that quickly needed tending to. Elias had to let this haughty girl know the trouble she’d find waiting for her on this side of the ravosala if she had any inkling about crossing the line with him again. She’d dared to raise a hand to him earlier, the mage recalled dumbly. Having questionable woman smacking him about was something he paid for in the privacy of gaudy whorehouses, not thrust upon during a late eve’s gondola ride. This immigrant had to learn just who the petch she was dealing with, because clearly she didn't comprehend the vastness of his talents.

“It’s because I’m a very powerful man, you see.” The Ravokian carried on, almost as if on autopilot while his mind worked tirelessly over this problem that now engulfed every sour thought. “You mentioned knights earlier? Well, you’re looking at a man whose slain hundreds of- dozens- multiple- at least more than one knights have fallen to my blade. This blade, in fact.” He declared, taking up the old long sword in hand and shaking it in the air to emphasize how near to true greatness she really was.

"I've consorted with gods." He hissed incorrigibly. "In fact, I'm on a first name basis with a few of them... do gods have second names?- Look, don't try and change the subject, I'm trying to explain how lucky old Silvio is to have me looking out for him. You should want me as a friend too, you know. People fear me, and they are right to be afraid. I'm a magical juggernaut in this city." Lost to his own vanity and pride, the 'juggernaut' was helpless to stop the onslaught of egregious pretension and vainglory pouring out of him. He knew better than to beat his own chest so much, especially in front of a nobody of such little consequence, but he also knew he should have let go of that intoxicating aura if he intended to start thinking clearly again. This was his own damn fault.

"I can sense all kinds of things, you know." He flaunted suddenly, eager to prove himself. He hastily shifted some of that attention he'd been laying on Salve off the disgusting pig, and instead flung it haphazardly unto the girl standing across from him, easing the flow of boozed up information he'd been siphoning off the man. "For instance, I could tell you things about yourself that no one else could possibly know!" This was good, the aurist concluded. This would give him an opportunity to delve deeper into this six armed mystery that had eluded him for far too long now.

"Hmmm, lets see." A hand went to his chin, mocking the effort of concentration as he studied the young, blade wielding foreigner more intently. As their eyes locked, blue and brown intermingling in the space between them, it was if Elias was reminded of her beauty all over again. God's, she was something else, wasn't she. A fact that had no doubt led to this little tirade of grandstanding. The mage hadn't thought a woman could do such things to him anymore, not after what he'd gone through. Part of him was actually glad it took some effort not to look away, and so he persisted. Her secrets would be his before long, and soon she would be the one blushing.

"I can sense... I can sense..."

Something snapped within the stryfer then, his eyes widening. It was something that drained the smile from his face and sobered his mind in an instant. The connection with Salvarius was severed immediately without anymore debate, the benefits or detriments of such a decision cast aside in the dawning of another truth. With the aura removed from his purview, it was like a sobering wave washed away the murk that had been muddying the waters of his mind, and with clarity came a stiffening of joints, a twitching in his eye.

"I can sense.... I'm not the only mage on this boat tonight."

Already the res was beginning to slither from his fingers.

[Sayana]

“Don’t. I liked you better when you were drunk.”

With surprising agility she had closed the gap between them with her right mid hand placed upon his own which flickered of opalescent res. Inhaling sharply, she exuded her own, a deep scarlet fluid shining faintly in the dim light. It wasn’t as smooth and seamless as his own conjuring, but it was there and roughly coating her hand with the morbid impression of blood. For once she was truly glad of her element, water, able to defend against the more dangerous ones. But if she found herself faced with a master reimancer, a pitiful splash of water would do nothing in its wake.

For a split tick, she wondered why it had been so important to match reimancy with reimancy. Had she really needed to impress upon him that she was also a mage? The pole for the ravosala hung forgotten in her left high hand, held just well enough so it wouldn’t float down the canal, and she sat on the very edge of the chair next to his, still leaning over to cover his hand and watch for any more res.

“And I think you’ll like me better if I stayed out of your head,” she added quite plainly and admitted to what she was sure he already knew. “Or maybe not…”

The earlier drastic production of res was causing a headache to form at the back of her mind, but still she wanted to use her djed to conjure some finesse and show off. So long as she was able to lock eyes with him once more, she would flare out her hypnotic djed to catch his mind in a flash. Yet this was not an ordinary visual sensation. Instead it was using the tactile senses to reproduce the soft wet touch of lips. To emulate a kiss while meeting his gaze at least a foot away.

“Elias, we don’t both need to be found lying face down in the canal come morning.”

She was still most concerned about his res. Spending excessive amounts of time with a master mage in auristics, reimancy, and more than likely others, made her assume that anyone showing the least bit of magical ability in those areas was likely to completely overshadow her.

His sword was the next contender. Even though earlier she had dismissed it, he had shown a decent amount admiration for his own talent with it. However, that was under the influence of wanting to impress. Petchers. It had been the slippery aftermath of her magic that had lured her into producing her res without thinking. That and self-preservation.

“No need to set my ravosala alight. I paid a pretty miza for that.” She spoke, now backing off slightly, yet still remaining in the chair next to him. “If you can promise me that, I’ll stay out of your head. Well, at least for half a bell or so.”

“But I have something for you. A deal. I happen to be privy to some information pertaining to you. Something that others would rather that you stayed in the dark about.”

She waited with a held breath. It took every inch of resolve to sit there knowing that she was more than likely to be perused with the most thorough and intimate scrutiny of an aurist. Her heartbeat was slightly quicker than normal and should any of her calming tactics fail against the Ravokian, she was ready to lunge for a blade or magic. But could an aurist read minds? Could he see what information she held? She had no idea. And with no better defence, her mind slipped into repeating the word ‘aura’ again and again in her head, as if it might drown out any other thoughts from being seen.


OOCHope you don't mind that I took certain liberties in assuming that he didn't immediately blow up the boat with his res. Although if you had a change in heart...

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

A twitch became a tremble, and a now bloodshot eye fell languidly upon the dark and manicured hand resting atop his own. A hand that had no right being there. A hand whose vaporous blood red hues of reimancy clashed and mingled with his own shadowy blues.

She had touched him.

She had made a fool of him!

She’d beaten him…

“Hypnotist.” The word was a bloodcurdling accusation beneath teeth so tightly clenched they seemed on the verge of cracking under the mania. A bewildering storm of disdain had cascaded upon the Caldera in the moment he'd recognized her for what she was, one whose maddening fury only grew as the Eypharian proceeded to mock him more ruthlessly in a few simple sentences than he had managed with his entire drunken spiel.

Elias had known something was off, and as the collage of unsettling dyes that was the mysterious woman coagulated into something less blinding and indistinct, the recognition of a hypnotist’s aura had been the last straw to finally tip him out of his self-imposed stupor.

In that moment, Elias had seen something of himself in the woman, and it had infuriated him beyond reason.

She’d lured him into her lair with such appalling ease, neatly wrapping the fool up in a web spun from every coy suggestion and unassuming flutter of her lashes. He’d fallen for it all like an absolute idiot, hook line and petching sinker. She’d beaten him just like, not with blade or brutality, but with a level of wit and witchcraft that Elias had thought himself so far beyond at this point it was almost laughable to realize how thoroughly she’d humiliated him. Now, with fangs bared and claws poised, the spider circled her wriggling dinner, savoring the first bite for as long as her own preening satisfaction could resist the yearning to plunge a dagger through his eye and fully revel in the totality of her ill earned victory.

But the dagger never came.

After all the time he’d spent eyeing the petching things, the mage had figured it was only fitting that they’d be the first to try and take his life that night. Poetic even. Yet there the two of them sat, locked in a cold, unflinching stare as the ebony beauty spoke, her every word an equally cutting sting against his pride, but not his flesh. Instead she opted to toy with him further, unleashing what was likely the hundredth hypnotic spell upon her victim, though this time the aurist was made to watch in full, helpless awareness as it happened. He glared on with mounting disgust as the tendril of djed crept towards him, its vapid reach something easily overlooked and misinterpreted given the nature of the subtle magic. It may as well have been fireworks in the sky for all the attention it had garnered from the one whose mind it invaded. The vile thing finally reached him, and in its wake the feeling of something wet and wicked touched his cheek.

It was a kiss...

He wanted to scream.

How could something so ravishing be so insolent? So arrogant!

Elias had a thousand curses for the foreign witch, each one worse that the last. Oh how he wanted to wail and howl and gnash his teeth in the overbearing rage that now threatened to burst through his chest if not given something else to devour. Somehow, someway, the Ravokian withheld his baser urges and denied his bloodthirsty instincts. His lips never parted a second time, his body never stirred in the reaction it demanded. She may have beaten him, but she'd made the mistake of not killing him yet, and her hubris would be the assassin’s undoing, that the Caldera promised. For despite the Eypharian’s apparent lack of resolve in finishing the job, Elias had never truly ceased his own inevitable retaliation despite the appearance of such, the mage had merely deviated its ruthless deliverance.

The ravosalawoman, as she continued to insist she still was, had disarmed him with merely a touch… It was inconceivable for him to truly listen to her words after that. The way she’d cleared the distance between them with such lightning and leisurely finesse, the mocking display of magic that followed, even as paltry and pathetic in comparison as it was, still left too sour a taste in the soldier’s mouth to simply forget, let alone forgive. And Elias was a soldier in every form of the word, no matter what others might say. That’s why they’d broken him down in those dungeons, so they could reforge the pieces into what he was always meant to be, a fact the mage was reminded of daily every time his torture inflicted wounds ached or his eye twitched. They were not so subtle reminders that Elias Caldera was still a soldier, and a good soldier never stopped fighting, even when the fight meant his death.

Perhaps she’d notice it before it was too late, she seemed the type too smart not too. It was the way his clothes rippled unnaturally beneath the collar, or how his mouth had yet to part since the snarling revelation of her magical abilities. Res was not something limited to the fingers or hands when it came time for the magic to find an exit into the outside world, as any reimancer who'd attended his first few days of class would know, as the Eypharian would soon come to know all too soon.

The Caldera’s lips parted for the first time since their confrontation, and wordlessly, the magic erupted from every part of Elias in an instant, a blinding explosion of effervescent blue that enveloped the small vessel within a blink of an eye. To the mundane observer, the sight would have no doubt been a terrifying one to behold. The res had come from seemingly everywhere at once, rushing from the mage’s billowing clothing and even his silently screaming mouth like smoke spewing from a chimney. The two of them would have been drowning in its implausible immensity before the six-armed witch should have known what was even happening thanks to her scarred counterpart’s concealing of its silent build up.

'Should have' being the key phrase here.

The girl was talented, that much was difficult to deny despite the bitterness such admiration invoked, but she’d clearly never contended with a real mage before. To have ever fought against one and lived to tell the tale was to understand something intrinsic about any conflict with those who wielded the arcane; you killed the motherpetcher as soon as you had the chance, because to do anything less was to court death itself. Such was the nature of magic and those twisted creatures that commanded it.

“Now she wants to bargain.” The words were thick and heavy with malice, a vast departure from the tone of the man who’d his opponent had picked up outside the whorehouse. Gone were the pretenses between them both it seemed, the lies and parodies of normal people tossed into the dark waters that now acted as the borders of their arena. “There’s always a ‘someone’ hiding in the shadows. There’s always ‘something’ they’re trying to keep from me.” The mage retorted harshly, voice as dark and empty as the shrouded night itself. The haze of res amidst the two swirled and danced dangerously in reaction to his less than convinced inflection, like waters churned to froth by the stirring of an angry wave. “You’re not the first assassin I’ve had to contend with since my return, and you won’t be the last, but if you intend to do anything more than scream with your next few breaths, I suggest you come up with something better than-”

His threat ended abruptly, the words cut off with a sudden flickering of his eyes over to the stone shoreline on their left. There was nothing there but more of the same hollow gloom of a Ravokian midnight, and yet the mage hesitated for some reason. Without another warning, the res that coated and danced across everything shivered in response to some voiceless command. It parted in an instant, freeing the dark haired vixen and her vessal from its grasp before sinking into canal, absolutely silent in its nerve wracking retreat. Every glimmer and flickering hint of the magic was disappeared without a word, and the mage who’d bid it so now looked nervously at the woman who moments ago he was very much about to kill.

As the sound of plated boots echoing across the empty courtyard rang to life, it soon became evident why.

Clad in steel of ebony that mirrored the darkness they prowled, two men emerged from the night, gauntleted fists resting upon blades at their side as they marched in disciplined unison. Chainmail rattled like rasping metallic laughter with each heavy step against the cobblestone, and an air of absolute, unmitigated authority radiated from the two even to those who could not see them with more than two mortal eyes.

It was the Ebonstryfe.

Fortunately, Elias had noticed them with something more magical in nature, hence his apparent precognition of their unexpected arrival, a side effect of his portentous showdown with the blasted woman. Now, they could both tell they were heading this way, and Elias couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation. The last thing he needed was the attention of Ravok's black guard, let alone the questions his blatant moonlit sorcery would invoke. Their appearance had interrupted his disposal of the ravosalawoman, but in turn had more than likely given her the opportunity she needed to open up his throat if she so wanted... again! He looked to her once more, his fidgeting and uncertainty becoming ever more apparent with each thunderous footfall heralding his problem's coming arrival.

The patrol hadn't seen the pair upon the boat yet, but they would soon, and Elias still didn't have a plan for either them or the one sitting across from him on the boat he was now trapped on.

What was she going to do?

What the hell was he going to do?!

Sorry about the waitWith the holidays over, so is much of my free time. I'm afraid my activity is gonna be less than it was from now on.