Closed The Pleasure is All Mine (Elias)

[Sayana]

He wasn’t buying it. Son of a bitch. Even with her offer, her charm, her ploys, it was as if she had stood a far better chance in the first two ticks of meeting him than she ever would now. Nevertheless, she watched him like a hawk as if the barest expression might give something away. No, he wasn’t like the commoners of Syliras, prone to a good and trusting nature. He was Ravok born, and lived his life full of chaos and lies. Any Ravokian would stand a better chance than a Syliran knight. Even a petching two year old would probably think twice about accepting candy from a stranger.

For the first few ticks, she had waited in anticipation. Almost hopeful. But as the ticks went by, her eyes darted like striking serpents, trying to realize what she had missed… But by the time she caught the shimmering blue glow, the next moment it was exploding forth. In less than a tick it had surrounded them like a deadly fog. Her own bit of res was now forgotten. Instinct started to take over and she was already rising in her seat to…

It took a mental wrench for her to gather the courage to sit back down. But more importantly, she realized that if he set everything ablaze, that would be him included, would it not? What if he could manipulate it in such a way to avoid it? And yet, the shimmery blue res hung about them like a cloud, distorting her sight, but still unused. Gods the canal looked tempting at that moment.

Poised like a cat ready to pounce, or in this case, plunge headfirst into the relative safety of the water, Sayana sat on the edge of her plush seat beside him. When the words finally came from his lips, they were spiteful and cold. As the res danced this way and that, her heart buzzed in her chest, ready to make a move the moment he…

But then something happened. In the blurred field of vision due to the res, she wasn’t sure of the cause, but she moved almost immediately to make use of the distraction. The high arm nearest to him moved to drape over his shoulders and the low on the same side curled around his waist. All might have been well and dandy, although perhaps closer than he would ever want to be to an Eypharian, but at the same time she held something hard and thin against his lower back.

While the first gesture was relatively non-threatening unless the dagger pressed intentionally against him to make her threat known, her next action was far less subtle as she attempted to grab his sword and shove it off his lap and onto the bottom of the boat.

“If I were your assassin, I had more than a dozen times to stick a dagger in you.” She spoke softly and had her mid hand resting on the hilt of another dagger, should she require a spare.

“So people have hired in the past? Maybe I should look into it.” A glinting smile came over her face. He had tucked his magic away and now she had him. But the smile vanished when she realized the cause; the thudding boots of guards. There was a slight tightening in her posture, and her words were no longer so languishing.

“But really Elias, I thought you were better than this. A good head on your shoulders, some obvious talents. You might have made a good ally. But if you want to play death threats with me, not to mention be an arrogant bastard about it… Excuse me.”

Sayana let out a loud swooning sigh. With her voice up a notch it both volume and pitch she exclaimed, “Oh Mister Caldera! It seems as though we have reached your stop. And you didn’t even get to show me that magic you promised. What a shame. Next time, next time. Are you sure you didn’t want me to take you home? Let me get your things.”

Her low arm slipped around his back so she could return the dagger to its sheath and she bent down to retrieve his sword that had ‘fallen’ to the bottom of the boat. For a moment she was worried about turning her back on him for that smallest of moments. But the Ebonstryfe were surely within earshot. Wouldn’t they offer some sort of city enforcement if a scream was heard?

Turning back sharply, and ready to duck an incoming punch or fireball, she offered out a hand to the Ravokian. “Step lively good Sir. The streets are a dangerous place out at night.” She used two of her left hands to prod the boat closer using the pole. The timing wasn’t top notch, but it was all she could do as she spotted the approaching Ebonstryfe.

For a tick or two she stand there patiently, mid hand slightly offered. An assist, a potential handshake, a subtle request for the fare of the ravosala. Choice was perhaps the most respectful offer she made that entire night. And once he made it, it would no doubt impact any future encounters they had.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

Disarmed and dismayed, somehow Elias had found himself in an even worse position than when he’d thought he was about to be killed. She was upon him in a blink of an eye, her speed and instinct breathing life into a whirlwind of limbs before he even had a chance to put an end to her quarrelsome advance. She’d truly had him at her mercy now, daggers no longer a mere possibility that plagued his dark concerns, but gleaming flashes of deadly reality in the moonlight duel that had intensified so extravagantly between them.

She straddled her prey, blade to his back, fangs to his throat as she toyed with the proud Ravokian. This was getting tiresomely familiar, the mage noted helplessly as he considered his ever increasingly dire situation. Yet for all the danger that now loomed ominously over his head like so many storm clouds gathering, it was her words were truly the most vexing part of all this. Talk of alliances, of looking into his past, of secrets and shadowy figures, it all perplexed and irritated the scarred soldier to no end. Who the petch was this woman, and why had she taken such a keen interest in the pale swordsman of all people? He had no answers of course, such was his irksome conundrum, but one thing was clear to the Caldera in that moment; she wasn’t going to kill him, regardless of how deep she teased her blade into his flesh or her nefarious whispers into his ear. Too many chances had presented themselves too temptingly and too often to continue to simply ignore, yet the Eypharian failed, time and time again, to deliver what should have been the easy final blow. Elias now felt certain she no was murderer sent to slay him with charm and steel, she was merely…

Gods help him, he had no idea what she was, and that was worse than anything else.

Unfortunately, that unknown factor driving the would be ravosalawoman left a gaping void in Elias’s comprehension of her motives, let alone his insight into her next act. Even with his auristics, he couldn’t foresee what she’d would do next, so when she did decide to make her move, his surprise was hardly surprising at all.

Now Elias was a man who had both borne witness and committed such heinous horrors the likes of which words simply failed to describe, and yet with but single flippant cry carelessly tossed out into the darkness, this stranger had left the wicked man positively speechless. All the daggers, the magic, the threats, they’d instantly become a triviality thanks to her newly adopted charade. What she had done, what had truly been his undoing, was the moment she bellowed his name into the night sky for all to hear.

“Caldera?”

Oh gods…

“As I live and petching breath, Elias Caldera, is that you?”

Just as she had no doubt planned, just the right wrong people had happened to overhear her siren’s cry.

Why! Why!? Why in god’s name had she decided then and there to abandon all nuance and subtlety. Considering how little he truly knew of her intent, or her familiarity with his past, perhaps she knew exactly how bad this could have turned out for the exile and was counting on it. Or, perhaps fate had just decided on having its wicked way with him that night more vigorously than usual. Either way, Elias was petched.

“Rhysol be praised, this must some kind of miracle.” The deep voice was unfamiliar, but the taunting, accusatory tone that burnished the poorly disguised animosity that lay beneath was something he’d been more than just a little acquainted with these days. “The boy that ran away, returned at last. What are odds of this, eh.” Elias had been standing in the boat while the Stryfers had begun their troubling approach, fully prepared to take both the woman’s hint and his stolen sword back before gladly disembarking and destroying his unwanted suitor from a relatively covenant distance once she’d traveled a bit down the canal, as was a mage’s want to do. He had remained transfixed however, petrified by the abrupt turn of circumstances as his glare, one of sheer astonishment, was glued to the six-armed witch throughout the entirety of the ridicule that heralded the dark guards’ coming. Like a man lost in the dessert watching another who suffered the same fate pour out the last droplets of water they both shared, the Caldera could do little else than gawk. Gawk and consider the multitude of ways he was going to make this woman suffer for her transgressions, of course. First however, he needed to make sure he survived what was about to transpire in the next few chimes.

“You don’t remember me, do you? I’m not surprised, you were always so far ahead of the rest of us petitioners we must have seemed like specs lost in your dust. I remember you, though. I remember you quite well. They called me Duke back then.”

’Duke’ was an intimidatingly large and sturdy young man, clean shaven and hair cut in military fashion, the Ravokian soldier was clad head to toe in ebony armor that only served to enhance his powerful frame and project a jawline that eerily resembled the same dimensions of the lantern that hung unlit from his hip. His eyes, ugly beady things, studied Elias with a level of scrutiny that was belied by the blatant amusement that shined through his broken smile of missing teeth. It was that same shyke eating grin had been the thing to remind him just who this stain in the annals Elias Caldera’s history was. He remembered, because that smile was his doing.

“No, they didn’t.” The swordsman replied, his tone unnervingly calm as blue eyes tore themselves from the dark-skinned predator and fell instead on this newest arrival. “They called you Duchess behind your back, until the day you bit off more than you could chew when you stepped to me, and I pounded you into dirt in front of the entire company for it. Then they started calling you Duchess to your face.”

Just like the whore before him, Duchess’s smug smirk faded as the mage’s barbed tongue left its venomous sting upon his reddening cheeks. Yes, Elias remembered who this petch was now, and though he was forced to look up in order to meet the gaze of the other man perched upon the precipice of the canal’s edge, he refused to be looked down upon by anyone so pathetic and pompous as petching Duchess, the training ground bully and bitch who had been bested years ago by a boy who wasn’t even a fraction of the warrior the man he had since grown up to be was now.

“It’s good to see you recovered no worse for wear. I recall having to pick your teeth from my knuckles after I was done with you. I wasn’t quite sure you’d ever be the same, considering.”

Duke, for his part, barely bristled with the frothing rage Elias could literally taste peeling off the muscular man in tattered waves. Apparently the Stryfer had expected this encounter to go quite differently, as had Elias himself truth be told, but of all the people to rear their ugly mug into his problems tonight of all nights, Duchess was the last thing the Caldera could allow himself to tolerate. His patience had been weened away quite enough already, and in those tense few ticks, he had decided quite fervently this would end in blood before it did in any further humiliation.

As if on cue, a hand wandered too close to a blade’s hilt -Elias wasn't sure whose- and both men tensed, readying themselves for the sudden flurry of steel that was to come.

…Until another hand rested itself upon Duke’s shoulder and put an end to the stand off before it began.

His partner, and the one who had disarmed the escalation before it had had its chance to explode, was an older soul, one whose own weapon had been left distinctly untouched during the bitter exchange. Bearded and short, if only in comparison to his hulking companion, his head was shaved on the sides, leaving the rest to be tied back into a tight knot at the rear. He eyed his partner curiously, obviously interested in whatever backstory he apparently shared with this pale man, but none the less vigilant as he waited sternly for the youth to realize the error of his ways. Eventually, after the two had shared an uneasy look between them, Duke finally eased off the sword at his side and let the bloodlust fade, if only in appearance. Elias mirrored the act when those same cautious green eyes reached him next. Something told him it was for the best… at least for the moment.

Finally, they turned to Sayana, something a bit less tenuous and foreboding in their observation as the unnamed soldier switched his attention to the Eypharian. He smiled, olive complexion pulled taught into something one would expect from the overworked clerks at the registration office and less from one of Rhysol’s bloodied chosen. “We couldn’t help but overhear a commotion from across the canal, madam.” His voice was soft, practiced and tempered with wisdom, but ever so slightly, his attention drifted to the arms too numerous to ignore, and he hesitated for the smallest of moments.

He swallowed.

“I… hope this night finds you well miss...?”

WhoopsThis scene between Elias and them just kept going and going as I wrote until I remembered I wasn't the only one in this thread.

By the way, "Choice was perhaps the most respectful offer she made that entire night" is a gooood freakin line, yo!

[Sayana]

The call that came out in the still of the night caused a startled jolt in her stance. Despite being aware of the black robed guards, she hadn’t considered that either of them might have known her departing passenger. For almost the entire first chime, her posture had recoiled, ready to take on a potential of three adversaries. However, the more the Ebonstryfe spoke, the more it was clear that this was not a friendship nor even a neutral acquaintance, but a case of mutual dislike.

Sayana for her part, didn’t particularly want to get in the middle of an age long rivalry or feud and was content to stand patiently in her role as the ravosalaman. The exchange eluded to Caldera’s recent departure, but even more so, it gave insight to his character. A man who picked fights with both magic and fist. His eyes seemed to hold scathing contempt for the guard on the dock. It was no wonder somewhat had hired her to garner information on him, undoubtedly for ill intent.

His magic… She wondered how much of that res still lurked within the depths of the canal. She assumed her own res had long since decayed, but with a quantity so large as his, did half remain? Did most of it still remain? And how much more could he produce in a moment’s notice without overgiving?

As hands went to hilts, so did two of her lefts as she fingered her daggers beneath her dark cloak. But what could have escalated was ceased abruptly as the two men came to their wits. Yet her own hands lingered a chime or two longer before relaxing once more.

With their attention finally directed at her, the Eypharian found herself ill at ease. Previously she thought she had ensnared Elias into a suitable trap, but now her stride was out of step.

…miss… She was half tempted to supply the name ‘Sullins’, but decided it would be too pretentious of her. When had that even become a thing? As the silence lingered, she suddenly realized that she ought to provide some sort of name, and in her rush she ended up speaking honestly.

“Sayana. You may call me Sayana.” Her voice was flustered and she decided to continue with that tact. “I hadn’t realized that you two were such good, um, ‘friends’. But what’s this talk of running away? Who would want to leave this city so blessed by Rhysol?”

She left the question hanging for a moment and then noticed the stares she was getting for her arms. “Excuse me, I um… pardon my appearance. I did not have the good fortune to be born in this beautiful city. But upon hearing the word and will of Rhysol, I traveled far to reach this city.”

The Eypharian shifted uncomfortably where she stood, and instead chose to curtsy elegantly to the two Ebonstryfe before taking a seat in the ravosala.

“But kind sirs, have any need of passage on this fine night? It would be a great honor to convey the likes of Duke, the Duke, to his final destination. I have heard the name in my short stay, but never seen the face. It would be my pleasure, free of charge.”

“Never you mind the likes of him, unless it’s about sharing amusing stories of long ago. Whereas with you, Duke, any sort of commotion would be immediately trivialized compared to your skill with a blade…”

Some of her banter was blatant flattery but she didn’t want her race to dissuade them. Unfortunately she was lacking in trust towards both Elias and the black robed guards. Elias on his part, still had his res lurking beneath the surface of the waters. On the other hand, since she lacked full citizenship, she couldn’t easily put her faith in the two Ebonstryfe. Nor could they suitably protect her if they even wanted to, since it was clear that ‘Duke’ had lost a past encounter.

The Eypharian was undecided how to get herself out of this mess, but if the Ebonstryfers chose to board her ravosala, it opened up some interesting possibilities.

OOCI was toying with taking the plot much further along, but the decided I wouldn't assume too much with your NPCs. Sorry about the delay. I was hashing out what seemed like dozens of different choices Sayana could make.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

Elias watched in seething silence as Sayana’s performance took center stage amidst the night’s already extensive gala of charade and deceit.

He decided quite instantaneously he didn’t like what was happening.

He didn’t like it one bloody bit.

Though less than subtle in some of her quite opaque but understandably involuntary physical responses to what was going on around her, the six-armed witch still displayed a level of adeptness in adaption that would have impressed, if not inspired Elias, had he not been one of its victims not so long ago -and still currently was for all intents and purposes! Somehow, she had managed to use the time it took Duke’s ‘little spat’ with his former brother in black to her advantage, reassessing and resituating herself with the brief reprieve despite the overwhelmingly anxiety and apprehension most outsiders should have been too busy dealing with under the scrutinizing gaze of a Stryfer on the prowl.

Make that two scrutinizing gazes as the brazen and broken toothed Duke reluctantly ripped his attention from Elias and shifted it instead to Sayana, his brow cocked incredulously as if somehow noticing the eye catching ravosalawoman for the first time. He clearly liked what he saw in the ebony enchantress, and apparently the big man was enjoying what he heard even more. Her honeyed words may not have been laced with djed this time (his auristics kept him appraised of that much at least) but they were just as sweet to the hulking soldier never the less. A perfectly tantalizing hook upon which she dangled her bait in front of the incorrigible fool as daringly as ever. A checkered grin of missing teeth slowly took hold of his antagonist’s furrowed face as the flattery and falsehoods were laid on thick, and Elias, still reeling from the sting of tearing out the barbed thing not mere moments ago, suddenly felt himself growing dangerously nauseous at the sight of Duke rearing back for a ravenous bite of his own.

This had to end before it had a chance to blossom any further out of control.

The Caldera shifted uncomfortably, pale lips working themselves into forming something particularly scathing and cruel to interrupt with, but whatever it was mage had been planning to say was abruptly drowned beneath the deep and course voice of the larger Stryfer who managed to speak first.

“That’s a good question.” Duke insisted with an ever-broadening smile and gleaming eyes that had yet to leave the Eypharian’s graceful form. “Why did you run away, coward?”

Elias found himself biting down so hard on his lip it nearly drew blood. It would have been a shame if his had been the first to be split between the lot of them that night.

“I’ve always been curious. All that ‘potential’ and ‘promise’ the instructors were constantly reminding us you had and we didn’t, all just abandoned overnight without a word. Maybe the real world outside the training grounds was too much for you? Being a soldier on the other side of the Vitrax’s walls where you weren’t being praised and pampered must have proven difficult I imagine, hmmm?” The exile’s response was a barely contained snarl between clenched teeth, lips curled and glare darkening under shroud of his brow. He could feel himself losing grip of the leash whose hold had always been a tenuous one at best. The most troubling part of it however, was that Elias was starting to consider letting go entirely.

“What do you say, Master Roven, fancy an afternoon ride on the waters?” The big man suggested suddenly, turning with enthusiasm to his armored compatriot with a knowing look before Elias could even form a single syllable in retaliation. “I think I would indeed enjoy an opportunity to catch up with my old friend here.” His shoulders shook with a hearty bark of wicked laughter that rattled his plate mail with an unnerving melody of shuddering steel. “I’d always figured the last time I’d get to enjoy the company of one of the renowned Calderas had died with your father in that tragic fire. Tell me Elias, where exactly were you hiding the day your old man burned to a crisp?”

“A beautiful name...”

Both men turned to find the source of the new voice, one that was calm and collected and all together uninterested in their petty squabbling. Master Roven had yet to relieve his odd examination of the female pilot who uncomfortably helmed her docked vessel, emerald orbs focused solely on Sayana and apparently little else. He seemed almost… bewitched. Which, if was the case, spelled even greater danger and uncertainty for the reimancer if the foreign sorceress had truly gotten her hypnotic claws into the man without his notice. There was another word for it however, something else one could describe the unwavering attention the black clad warrior was showing her, and that was ‘suspicious.’

“Roven, uh, I’m trying-”

A raised ebony gauntlet silenced the muscle bound brute with a curtness that brought a smile to Elias's scarred lips, particularly because it hadn’t even required the other stryfer to remove his gaze from the woman he now studied so intensely. Mayhap Duke’s overindulgence in his slander and taunting had tarnished the older man’s desire to involve himself in the bickering between the two younger swordsmen, instead diverting his attention to the unfortunate Eypharian entirely. Or perhaps it was the way in which she took to flattery and downright ovation at the realization of who she’d been addressing that had made the soldier react the way he had. Elias knew he’d have been wary of such sickly sycophancy if he’d been bombarded with it so fervently. Then again, his bias might have been considered a tad bit skewed all things considered. Or maybe still, it was something a bit more simpler to quantify and understand in a city like this one… maybe those arms of hers just rubbed him the wrong way? Whatever the reason, it seemed Sayana had a new fan, for better or for worse.

“I’m always happy to see a new face, you know that Duke. It warms my heart to when a new lamb shows such eagerness to join the flock.” The stryfer continued, voice raspy and tinged with the taste of flippancy that seemed out of place, or at least it did to the aurist whose sight beyond sight still granted him intuition that wasn’t always as useful as one might believe. When one stared so deeply into the vortex of insight, all things were made clear before them, even the most trivial and distracting. That said, Duke had always been a brute and a bastard, one whose vulgar countenance often matched his pathetically cliched and limited vocabulary. He may still have wielded a face that resembled a bloodbane ass all these years later, but the mage was starting to think he'd found the source of the bully's new gift for parlance.

“You said you’d heard the word and will of our lord. Many find their way here desperate in their search for Rhysol’s grace and mercy, and I've found almost all of them are seeking for one of two things…”

For a moment, something flared in the man’s aura as he leaned in closer, something dark and perplexing sinister that had disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived. Elias realized almost too late his reaction to the sudden burst and had to restrain the urge to take a step back lest he plunge himself into the cold and sobering embrace of the canal.

“Tell me madam Sayana, have you come to our fair Ravok looking for sanctuary… or salvation?”

[Sayana]

The Eypharian lapped up the information patiently and silently. It was far easier to pit two rivals against each other than to stand in the middle and hope to fend off them both. Once could discredit and humiliate the other and with a question or two, the roles could be reversed. The information may have been tarnished due to their obvious bias, but when Elias failed to speak out and only snarled in response, it was confirmation enough that it was true.

The taunting, the exile, the magic, and the tragic fire… all were good points of information. Not to mention his overall demeanor and life as a soldier. Plus two old friends. Or at least one old friend, anyways. And this one she was absolutely certain was a true figure from his past. Not like the other whom she still had slight doubts on. Even as she toyed on the fence as to her end goal with Elias, the information flowed like music to her ears.

However, when the attention turned quite directly to herself, that’s when the smile disappeared from her face. There was something about it that was too personal, too intense. She hadn’t quite realized how long Mister Roven had been staring at her and only now did she wonder whether he had even turned his gaze away since commenting on her form.

The Eypharian nodded with a smile, as if to indicate said ‘eagerness’. Yet when his words turned to Rhysol’s grace and mercy and requiring sanctuary…

She hesitated, not entirely sure of the meaning of salvation but also being skeptical at how different it actually was from sanctuary.

“Neither. I come here for-- Opportunity.” She had started the sentence bold and almost defiant, yet only partway through did she remember her charade as a mere ravosala woman. ‘Opportunity’ was her chosen word from the start, but that was the amount of time it took her to curb her attitude and avoid ranting about why she wasn’t looking for safety because she was not afraid.

Although the irony was, she had grown more and more uncomfortable regarding her safety with each passing moment with Elias and the two guards. This wasn’t in the sense that she felt like she couldn’t defend herself, but she was afraid due to her standing as not a full citizen.

“Rhysol gives us choices and opportunities to succeed, does he not? One can start a new life under his name and have the freedom to build and grow and flourish…”

She was getting ahead of herself. She had to remain alert to magic, res, or a blade in her gut. Sayana paused and surveyed the three of them. Roven, Duke, and Elias. Part her of still begged to flee at the earliest opportunity, yet another dared to glean more information.

“Pardon me good sirs. I am but a humble ravosala woman with big dreams. May Rhysol watch over us all.”

She itched to get going, yet here they loitered on the edge of the dock. It was though she were trapped. Trapped on her own boat, since she dare not leave without a reasonable plan of survival. And so she stalled. Stalled to let the res continue to decay, and stalled to keep her own sanity in check. Some of her agitation showed through in her stiff posture and the way she clutched one of the poles. But for the most part she tried to fulfill the role of a humble ravosala woman.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

“Perhaps more than just a mere lamb, after all.” He heard the elder Ebon guard mutter between the brief, toothy flash of a smile that thankfully faded with comforting fleetness. Brief as it was however, Elias hadn’t appreciated the sentiment it alluded to; one of potential deference, perhaps even a tinge of admiration.

Incomprehensible.

The reimancer had assumed Roven to be the smarter of the dark due, the de-facto leader and influence an idiot like Duke followed because even that bullheaded buffoon could see the older man likely embodied all the things a good soldier needed to survive and thrive in a city like Ravok, beyond a dependable sword arm and an unshakable faith. Distrust, disdain, and a distaste for all things foreign were unspoken but, as far as Elias was concerned, paramount ideals for any good Stryfer to embody. The dregs of society that often washed upon the docks of Ravok claiming to have ‘heard the call’ were usually the worst of the worst Mizahar had to offer, at least as far as the ex-apprentice who’d regularly had to deal with their pathetic lot in the past had learned.

Sycophants and psychopaths, their twisted views of Rhysol born from the lies and brazen slander that ran rampant outside his sacred city inspired, not greatness from a great people as he did in Ravok where his truth was law, but instead a festering sickness inside the minds of the already wretched and mentally infirm. Cast out from their homes for good reason, they saw Ravok as a refuge for their ill begotten kind, desperate and contemptuous to gain entry into her hallowed embrace as they had convinced themselves that their ‘turning from the light’ -or at least what they considered the light- somehow made them unique and incalculably invaluable. They demanded entrance, and like so many before them, were either turned away, or rightfully cut down for their audacity. Unfortunately, every once in a while, one or two lucky petchers would make it past the shoreline’s screening and unto a boat headed for the great city upon the lake. He’d seen it a thousand times, and he’d likely see it a thousand more, which is why Roven’s sudden and seemingly strange interrogation hadn’t been such a surprise.

Unfortunately, Roven had gone from encouragingly suspicious to bafflingly bemused when it came to the witch he’d taken such a keen interest in. That dark, ominous thing the strange man kept hidden inside himself was nowhere to be seen anymore, instead replaced with waves of curiosity and a dangerously budding hint of intrigue that was beginning to manifest itself amidst his aura’s shifting hues.

Elias would have assumed that Sayana’s talk of looking to start a new life, one of living freely and flourishing would have been a clear indicator to Roven that ‘sanctuary’ was her answer, regardless of how eloquent her attempt to mask that simple fact may have been. Refuse looking for refuge, the same story all over again, just this time with a prettier face to hide behind. Or so it should have been in any case, but this Eypharian had shown a daunting habit for defying Elias’s expectations so far, and he doubted she’d proven him an ass for his assumptions for the last time that night.

Which was all the more reason this had to end. Now.

“We… have work to do?”

Duke’s voice cut the tension like a knife, though his tone was more a question than it was a satisfying statement, and Elias had to hide his irritation at the lackluster resolve the man had shown. Or to be more precise, the resolve the mage’s hypnotism had failed to illicit. If one could see the world as the aurist saw it, they’d be privy to the half a dozen tendrils that now slithered and snaked their way across the brute's thoughts, his mind invaded by a host of sickly looking hypnotic attacks, each one desperate to burrow their way deep inside and take control. This was a new experience for the Ravokian who controlled them however, and it showed in the weak reaction he’d wrested from the hulking soldier. Maintaining three of his arcane talents at once was… trying to say the least. He still held a tight grip upon his res beneath the lake’s waters, and his eyes were still brimming with the sight beyond sight. Now he was tossing in hypnotism to mix, and it was proving a suitablly taxing exercise of control and coordination for a sorcerer of his caliber.

First, he’d introduced a sense of grinding irritation and annoyance in Duke, which was easy enough to do considering who the target was. Directing it at Roven was the true challenge however, convincing the brute that the older soldier was trying to steal his fun, or worse yet, was undermining him. For a man like Duke, pride had to still be his downfall, no matter how much time had passed since they were kids. The Caldera would exploit that for all it was worth, for he knew people didn’t change, not really… well except for Elias himself of course. He’d changed for the better, just ask his torturers.

“As do I.” The happily reformed man added, his snarling now at an end as he forced a more composed and formal countenance upon his pale mask of scars. “My lord Lazerin’s will is not something to be waylaid like this for long.”

“Horse shit!” Duke snapped, turning on Elias then as the group’s attention was shifted back to him. Unwanted of course, but a necessity if he sought to escape this incessant purgatory Sayana had trapped them both in. Using the name of a Druvin lord towards that end was a risky and undoubtedly unsafe bet, but his bold-faced lie was designed to hasten their flight to freedom. He had of course considered using a less acclaimed name to his benefit, perhaps one of his instructors from the Vitrax who he’d known would have been too hardy and smart to have died or fallen out of favor since his departure so many years ago, but then he realized, if one was going to make a lie this grand, one might as well go all out. It wasn’t as if these two lowly patrolmen were going to go ask the chief interrogator of the Ebonstryfe about this later. It was a preposterous notion, regardless of how suspicious they became, almost as preposterous as Elias serving as that Druvin's man. The difference between them however, was that Elias had magic on his side to convince everyone else otherwise.

The hypnotist did just that, focusing on Duke in particular as he implanted recollections of just how much of a kiss ass Elias had been during their time as petitioners, as well as teasing the notion that if anyone would be able to skulk their way into the company of better men, it would have been a brown-nosing teacher’s pet like the blasted Caldera.

“We both have our duties to uphold, though unlike you Duke, I’m not so quick to abandon them for a pretty face. Unless of course, you’re afraid of these children you’re meant to be looking for.” Ah, finally the crux of it all was revealed. The children, the thieving, flee bitten little bastard orphans, with their sticky fingers and their reckless abandon. Little bundles of rag wreathed inspiration they were, enough so that they had been what had drawn Elias from his unpurposed wallowing as of late, his endless amble through familiar streets and sights that he now struggled to call home once more. They're discovery had inspired aspiration in a young man whose whole life had once upon a time been happily enslaved to his ambitions. Now that fire had been rekindled with the potential these hapless orphans had so inadvertently brought about. That was why he'd been stalking the plaza. That was why Salve had been chosen. And that was why he'd been unwilling to share his plans, let alone hint at them, for simply too much was riding upon it. Things had changed very drastically since then however, and so too would Elias if intended to fulfill tonight's task.

The big man’s eyes widened for a split-tick, hardening again just as quickly as he turned to his counterpart whose own brow had furrowed at the accusation. Elias pressed on, emboldened by his probings result. “I assumed our tasks were the same, to put an end to this little menace that has plagued the plaza for too long now. Am I wrong?” His demeanor was cool, levelheaded and derisive, a far cry from the growling animal mere mockery had reduced him to earlier, but with time came clarity and a sense of urgency that demanded new tact if he hoped to achieve his goals that night instead of wasting it on the passing whims of two nobodies, regardless of how well armed they were.

“You expect us to believe Lazerin would concern himself with a bunch of thieving scamps running around, picking the pockets of a few drunks and junkies?”

“A few scamps that have managed to go about terrorizing the citizens of this city for weeks now, unabated and apparently unconcerned for the laws that govern us all. Perhaps my lord is simply bored, or perhaps he sees an issue in those who so blatantly defy Rhysol’s will… you know, that thing you swore to uphold.” It was the giant’s time to gnash his teeth now, and he did so with a resoundingly pleasing grunt of indignation and scorn. He still seemed unconvinced though, Roven too, whose lips were slowly working themselves into a response. One Elias was sure he wasn’t going to enjoy by the way the man looked at him incredulously.

He had to try something new.

Something bold.

A scream tore through the night’s stillness. In tandem, three heads swiveled towards the direction it had come from, eyes sharp and alert as they each sought its origin amidst the darkness. “Stop. Thief!” Came a furious and futile cry a tick later and both soldiers of the Ebonstryfe tensed with an instinct that had been drilled into them from the same years of savage training Elias himself had been molded by. He knew exactly how they would react. Sayana, for her part, would have heard nothing, for curiously enough there had been nothing to hear. Elias had induced a flash upon the two men, one he had played his part in superbly by merely turning his head along with theirs.

“Gentlemen.” He murmured unconcernedly, his boot bracing against the ravosala’s bow. “I believe you have work to do. I bid you goodnight.” With a flick of his wrist, the small vessel beneath him shuddered and shook in response, abruptly pushing itself away from the side of the canal with an unnatural force. Braced as he was, Elias remained nonchalantly unaffected, even going so far as to salute the two soldiers who’d been taken aback by the unexpected sight. Their true focus however, still remained with the scream, and it wasn’t long before to two were sprinting down the cobblestone towards the plaza of dark delights, which coincidentally just so happened to be in quite the opposite direction Elias and Sayana were now heading. "Assure your master this nuisance will be dealt with swiftly. He need not concern himself in such a trivial affair." Roven had hastily advised, his tone suggesting he had not truly believed the pale man, yet still bowing out of caution's sake before his departure. Annoyingly enough, Elias couldn't help but notice it had been directed more to the woman than it had to the one he'd been addressing. Duke spared him one last apprehensive glance as well, anger and conflict twisting his features into a ghastly visage that he directed at his nemesis, but the swordsman merely smiled smugly from atop his floating throne.

A moment later, the small craft was moving again, the watery hand beneath the waves taking hold of is oak frame and purposefully pushing the luxury boat further down the canal before eventually both its exertion and the res that controlled it faded from existence, leaving the ravosala and its two unlikely passengers alone amidst the night’s quiet reverie once more.

Elias found his seat at the head of the vessel, careful not to let the fatigue he felt show as he slowly slumped into something a bit more comfortable. That little trick had taken more out of him that he’d cared to admit, but still, he felt drained yet invigorated with its accomplishment none the less. That, and perhaps a little calmer as well, all things considering. Magic had a way of bringing him peace, or serenity, or whatever a man like the Caldera called it. In any case, he was calm enough that he could now look up from his seat and regard the foreign beauty at the other end of the ravosala without losing control to the driving urge that bid him lunge for her throat, at least for the time being. If she had been a spy, he could only imagine how fortuitous the she must have felt after having learned so much about her prey in so short a time, and for so cheap a price at that...

He took a breath, slow and deliberate, and as icy blue eyes fell upon her once again, he spoke.

“Now, he began, wiping away a tendril of blood that had begun to worm its way down from his nose. "I believe you mentioned something earlier about a 'deal'..."

[Sayana]

Sayana would take Roven’s assessment as a compliment. A lamb, hardly… Yet she kept her facial features composed and nodded in silent agreement. She did, however, catch a quick glance at Elias’s reaction. He wasn’t pleased, but she couldn’t piece together the reasons as to why. Instead she summed it up to his general dislike for these two guards.

The sudden question from Duke caught her by surprise. Question? Statement? She glanced at the guard and momentarily lost her sense of poise and alertness. The lack of conviction was quite the opposite to the aggressive and rival nature he had shown earlier against Elias. Yet Caldera replied calmly and without using the opportunity to make a snarky jab at his counterpart.

As the conversation continued, Sayana avoided getting into the center of it. There was too much potential for knowledge to wreck the flavourful exchange. However, she did keep her attention on what was being expressed without words. It seemed as though there was genuine astonishment and perhaps jealousy from the two guards. Whereas Elias held an arrogant, level-headed, and even knowing demeanor.

Sayana, for her part, stood quietly as the role of the watchman as words flew back and forth like glittering mizas. As she recalled once more the oddity of Duke’s first ‘question’, she started to wonder if something more was going on. Lazerin was clearly an important figure, and they didn’t quite believe him. She uncertainly pondered about using auristics to try to see more. Sayana had already decided against hypnotism on the two guards, but auristics…? It was less incriminating. It was like trying to decide whether to stare into the sun. A glance wouldn’t hurt, unless Elias happened to be watching her with auristics at that very moment.

As the two guards blossomed with indignation, she took the opportunity to compose herself. However instead of focusing her djed on her eyes, she chose a more instinctive but lesser used method. Gathering the djed on her mid right palm, she let it tingle upon her skin so that she might feel more and learn more. Frankly, she wasn’t doing the best job, since she was more concerned with subtly and misdirection rather than delving into real information. But when all three of them snapped their heads around in the silence, she felt a rippling shockwave crash against her palm.

Sayana immediately let go of any hold she had on her djed, like she had just touched fire. But it was information she had, an astounding amount of information she now had on the man. Hopefully information that was sufficiently unique. Elias had certainly used magic on them, and as a hypnotist herself, she had certainly conjured false noises and screams before. For a tick, she wondered what a pair they would make. Hypnotists, aurists, reimancers… Although it was quite possible that he was even more accomplished than that.

The sudden movement of boat caused her to take a step, ‘for balance’, and once again made sure she had a firm grip on her ravosala poles. Her lips pursed, disliking the fact that he chose to maneuver her boat, and that he still had res left lurking under the water. Now that was something she might want to check with auristics, but she wasn’t going to play with fire, not again, not yet.

But his next words were surprisingly not hostile.

In fact, the sudden return to the earlier topic caused a tick of laughter. “It appears as though I have lost my original bargaining chip. Clearly you have enemies within the city and you know of their existence.”

“However, I’m adaptable and resourceful. You might want to gain the upper hand on some of your… rivals. But I’m not interested if you try to threaten my life again. Because if push comes to shove and I end up killing you, then it would be misfortunate for you and rather unpleasant for me to deal with this ‘Lazerin’. On another hand, my own death would be untimely and you’d have to face a rather powerful mage down the road. Not sure if you know of him, but his name is Clyde Sullins and he’s grown very fond of me.”

She spoke in a matter of fact tone, laying out the two options as she saw them. She also gave the reimancer a moment to let the situation sink in and potentially recall Clyde’s name.

“I personally would prefer the alternative of working together. Just think of what could be accomplished.”

For half a tick, she hoped that Clyde hadn’t already made enemies of this man. That would be inconvenient and rather embarrassing. It seemed as though Elias was good at making enemies. If he could avoid acting like a complete ass to people, then maybe his talents could be properly harnessed and utilized.

“Oh, and you missed a spot.” Sayana brought up a finger to rub just beneath her nose. There wasn’t any blood, but she wanted to remind him of his overgiving and the fact that it had not escaped her notice. While slightly antagonizing, she wanted to keep him sufficiently humble so that he might question his abilities of successfully killing her.

OOCSorry for the delay.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

A pang of disappointment rattled its way through Elias’s bones as Sayana laughed. He’d expected -hoped really- that his sudden change of tone would have elicited something more out of the woman, something vulnerable he could exploit in the wake of their harrowing and impromptu interrogation at the hand of the Stryfe, but the woman never lost control, never gave surprise the chance to tighten its grip. It was a knack of hers that was as frustrating as it was… well, frustrating.

Not as frustrating however, as the name she dropped next.

“Sullins…” Elias muttered beneath gloved hands, trying in vain to hide the fact that he was wiping at the blood that no longer existed. So, she’s in bed with the Ebonstryfe, is she… Well, that explained the incessant arrogance, and why she’d been so unwilling to simply supplicate herself before him like so many in her unfortunate position were want to do. This vixen was no slave of the mage’s though, Elias had combed over every detail of her being with his auristics enough times to tell she bore no mark of servitude upon her flesh physical or otherwise, at least none which he recognized. She didn’t have the temper for in any case, that was for damn sure. Lucky then, that she had someone like Clyde as her benefactor, the swordsman mused darkly. That kind of unbroken spirit made one a sumptuous target for many in a city as cruel as Ravok.

“I’m surprised he knows how to appreciate a woman, to be honest. From what I recall of our excursion north, the man was more infatuated with the bit of bark he carried around than I suspect most folks would consider ‘healthy.’” The mage eyed her tellingly then. “I suppose it took someone… exceptional for him to finally realize what he was missing.”

That, or this was but another lie. A strange one for her to choose, admittedly, but he could hardly put anything past the witch at this point. Perhaps she simply hoped to toy with him in some manner, but then why choose such a distant and irrelevant figure from his past in the first place? She’d have had better luck getting a rise out of him with one of his less forgiving school teachers than she did with the strange reimancer of all people. Was this distant sorcerer the one upon whose behest the bumbling ravosalawoman acted then? Elias knew nothing of any past grievances between him and his family, nor did the Caldera have any to bear himself against the man. If nothing else, the soldier was simply wary of him, as one should rightfully be with any mage… with that much power… and high standing…

The Ravokian let the thought evaporate before it grew any more burdensome than it already had. Something else she’d mention offhandedly had also caught his attention and was worth scrutinizing; She’d felt the need to counter his ‘daunting overlord’ with one of her own, a powerful name to match to match a powerful name, but in doing so she’d revealed the fact that she had no idea who the Druvin lord even was, let alone that her precious patron served him just as Elias did, just as all sons of the Ebonstryfe did. It made him wonder if the Eypharian had yet to surmise his place within the order, or just how much trouble she was in after tonight’s events. Accosting and assaulting a member of Rhysol’s chosen was a terrible crime, he’d learned that himself the hard way not so long ago. Though, now that he was considering it, what would happen if she’d actually managed to slay him instead of merely teasing the idea again? No one within the ranks had liked Torian, that much was painfully evident by the fact that his son now had to deal with the cantankerous old bastard’s grudges being dug up and laid at his feet day in and day out. Still, with all the heinous deeds against his fellow brothers in black, they hadn’t held back one iota when it came to destroying the stupid boy that had dared to raise a hand against one of their own. This foreign witch had done much the same, and she’d done it more than once already! Would they string her up and flay the pretty skin from her pretty bones, or would they give the wicked seamstress of deceit pat on the back and perhaps a few extra coins in her purse as thanks for saving them the trouble?

An annoyance of pride and its compulsory settlement in blood, or mere relief… how would the demise of the ‘infamous’ Elias Caldera be regarded within the holy order once he was dead and truly gone?

It was a troubling question to suddenly be faced with. One he rightfully did not want the answer to. At least not tonight.

The gentle bobbing of the vessel among the canal’s naturally placid waters had eventually stilled, leaving the two amidst a purgatory of midnight darkness and tranquil seas that waited languidly for the escape Elias’s answer would bring. “It’s a peculiar and dangerous game you play.” He finally responded after a poignant moment of deliberation. “Either you end the night making an enemy of me and mine,” There was no ‘mine,’ there never had been really, sad as it was. “Or, you make an enemy of my enemies.” Neither side of this bloody tragedy was worth it, but she'd no choice but to choose now, and so he let the ominous implication linger in silence for a while, taking the opportunity to rub at his nose once more while she deliberated.

Before the Eypharian could ultimately reply however, the mage made a motion towards the hollow waterways that still lie ahead of them, letting the woman know he still sought to traverse the city’s watery highways despite their still quite heated exchange. There was still, of course, the matter of the prize at hand, and the drunken fat man from which this headache of a night could source its origins. That, and the more distance Elias put between Duke and himself the better, that much was more so evident. His instinct towards those ends had been to simply steer the boat with another guiding hand born of his reimancy, but instinct also reminded him of what had happened the last time he’d summoned his res in her presence. ‘Considerate’ was one of the many words Elias Caldera often use to describe himself, handsome and bold being just a few others, but it was the former for which Sayana could thank in his unbeknownst show of restraint.

“Why?” He finally insisted once the two were underway again. He stared intently at the dark-skinned temptress from his poised seat at the other end of the ravosala, blue probing eyes having never dared to leave her even a moment alone for fear of what nightmares she'd accomplish in even such a short amount of time. “What drives someone to risk so much?” The swordsman continued, pressing harder now as a hint of that confusion that had pestered him throughout this entire ordeal began to finally reveal itself. “What does Sayana, daughter of Anhatep, blade wielding sorceress and ravosalawoman... want?”

Maybe she’d simply stumbled into this, a foreigner out of her depths playing in a league she couldn't possibly comprehend, or maybe there were deeper depths to be plied beneath the veils of pretenses and deception she so skillfully cloaked herself in. Either way, the woman had to know she was being scanned and analyzed in every manner possible at that moment, her every syllable and blink taken into account by the aurist who’d yet to relinquish his death grip upon her churning hues.

Elias leaned in, a hushed groan of creaking oak from the boat beneath him heralding his shifting weight. "Careful now," he whispered, "this ones important."

[Sayana]

“Not as important as you might think. For all your worries and fears, I’m not actually a dark skinned foreigner trying to take over Ravok.” There was a momentary break in the tense silence as the bit of humor slipped through.

“I want what everyone wants. Friends, connections, a place to call home… I might be nosy but that’s the game I play. Dangerous? Maybe. But it doesn’t matter much if people need only look at me to choose to become my enemy. I’d rather be allies with a talented and powerful man like yourself, than the likes of them.” She gave a half-nod over her shoulder.

“As far as negotiations go, we’re acquaintances. You wouldn’t trust me as a friend, and neither I would to you. I can supply the word on the canal, information, rumors, gossip. If that would interest you. Whereas if you told me more about those in the city guard, the Black Sun, the… Needless to say, I would be intrigued.”

“If that is not your type of game, I could assist as some extra strength when dealing with… unsavory rivals. And if I find myself at unfair odds with a Ravokian guard, perhaps I might call upon you to… tip the odds. Of course, legally and with discretion.”

She had done a lot of talking, perhaps given away too much. Yet she still had this vain hope, an arrogant sort of pride that if she talked enough, Elias might eventually be swayed to such an agreement. Earlier she had been pleased that the man had recognized Clyde’s name. And not out of dislike or disgust. Except for the mage’s infatuation with Cha. But that was a different story. No, Elias had genuinely listened at that name.

The one other thing that had struck her as odd was the man’s reference to Ahnatep. Had she let that slip sometime during their conversation? Or was he merely well versed in the home city of Eypharians? So far north, she found it strange and jarring. Maybe he had somehow dealt with her kind before or was well-learned or had even visited it. With a shiver, she tried to brush the thought aside. She liked being the strange exotic lady, except when it began to cause her grief like here in Ravok.

OOCSorry about the delay and short post. Just wanted to get something to you since I have a lot of threads on my plate. Speaking of, any chance at starting to wrap this one up? I've really enjoyed it, but we are also nearly on the third page.

Credit: Shimoje

[Elias Caldera]

“My worries and fears are what have kept me alive this long.” Elias muttered absentmindedly, but couldn't help but wonder if she was right all the same, perhaps such constant prejudice was blinding him to the possibilities presented. Well, he was listening to her words with studious attention now, and shockingly enough, he’d found himself in agreement, pensive as it was.

Her candidacy helped a great deal in shaping his final judgement of both her and the proposition she laid bare at his feet. Treacherous was one word for it, compelling another. She wanted the apprentice to betray the secrets of his fellow Ravokians, to reveal the dark depths to which his city’s foundations were built upon. The guard, the Sun, even his own order, none of them were apparently safe from Sayana’s clandestine designs. There was an absurd boldness to that kind of aspiration, one that would have easily seen her head removed from slender shoulders had it been anyone else she’d uttered such condemning and downright heretical things to. Fortunately for the Eypharian, she hadn’t found just anyone else that night.

The son of Ravok may have been undyingly loyal to the purpose of the Stryfe, but as for its actual members, the men he should have been able to proudly call his brothers in arms… well, there was no love lost between any of them these days. As evident by Duke’s unsavory testimonial, Elias’s history was a noose around his neck, one that was continually tightened and yanked by all those who wielded it against him. Many of his peers and superiors, if they knew the truth, despised him for being a coward, or just for the crime of being his father’s heir, and rightfully so. None the less, it had taught the mage there was no bond of brotherhood to be found among Rhysol’s chosen anymore, none that was willing in any case. Power would be his only means of ascension now, not simple servitude and dedication to his god as he had once so naively believed. Trapped in a churning quagmire of endless revenge plots and mind-numbingly menial tasks to keep him both frustrated and busy, Elias knew the only way he was ever going to regain what was rightfully his, the only way he was going to climb out of this hole he’d been cast into and forgotten, was with his own two hands.

Then again, a climb like that would go a whole lot smoother with six more by his side.

“Stop! Thief!”

The shouting cut through the night’s hushed peace, echoing across empty canals and destitute alleyways alike. This time however, even Sayana would be able to hear it, because unlike the last, this garbled and drunken cry was the real deal. Elias hadn’t been surprised however, not even stirred from his seat in fact as his head remained low in contemplation and he considered the strange woman across from him. Eventually and abruptly however, he rose from his seat a moment later, standing now with an arm outstretched to his side as his gaze remained affixed upon her.

“Such audacity,” he began, res forming at the tips of his fingers, “Such fearless resolve.” A serpent of water slithered its way skyward from the lake, rising eagerly to meet the hand held aloft by its new master. In an instant, the res born construct coiled around the arm and was launched away, hurtling into the dreary darkness and down the alleyway from which the cursing and shouting could still be heard.

“They earned you my curiosity, but now I see their purpose, and now they've earned you my attention as well.”

The reimancer stepped from the boat, finally finding the reassuring firmness of solid ground beneath his feet after perhaps too long and harrowing a time apart. The clamor from afar escalated coincidentally, reinforced by a new, younger yowl joining the fray, though this one was less indignant and slurred than it was simply terrified. “Your proposition has ensnared you an opportunity, hypnotist,” the mage continued, smoothing out the ruffles in his jacket as he spoke. “It seems the least you deserve aside from a swift execution. But you’re right, Ravok will never be kind to the likes of you, not with your unfortunate… affliction, I'm afraid.” His eyes wandered to her arms and the Caldera winced. Such a shame to be so close to perfection, yet so inhumanly far. “Nor will it be to me,” he went on, the sound of a struggle now adding to the crescendo of commotion down the alleyway, “Not until we make it so.”

Something was being dragged, kicking and screaming towards them from the shadows.

“Which will make your test all the more appropriately arduous. Prove yourself more than just gusto and honeyed words. Find for me this enemy of mine, the one who set you about the task of finding me in the first place. Bring him to me, and then we can begin speaking in earnest of all these ‘secrets and favors.’”

A shape revealed itself in the night then, something small and flailing and gliding across the floor, clearly against its will. When it finally struck the light of Sayana’s lamp, the form of a small, filthy human boy was finally made manifest. The sheer shock and confusion in his panicked eyes as he beheld Elias and his six armed guest was thoroughly satisfying, one made even more so as a harness of ice hefted the child from the floor and up to eye level with his captor. What was once the shimmering water snake was now the frozen manacles born of Elias reimantic will, wrapped tightly around the boy’s torso and used to maneuver the hapless nitwit as Elias saw fit. More water came slithering from the lake at the mage’s unspoken behest while he studied the little guttersnipe, now aptly frigid in his fear as the water drew near, wrapping itself around his arms and legs before they themselves were frozen solid, binding the helpless pickpocket in even more dire straits.

Finally. He'd caught one.

As was made obvious now, Elias hadn't been focused solely on Sayana for long. His scrutiny of the auras had eventually landed him on the familiar, pulsating radiance that was his hidden glyph tucked away in Salve's pocket. Guided by this auristic sight beyond sight, his aquatic serpent had found its mark in the cut purse as the scraggly whelp attempted to rob the fat fool, snatching him up before he'd had a chance to escape. Now the boy was in his grasp, and finally all the nights spent hunting Ravok's dark corners and dimly lit alleyways had paid off.

"W-what do you-" The ragged wretch tried to whimper, his breath a misty mess as quivering lips tried to form the right words. "Shh." Elias hushed him with a hand across his mouth, sliding it from one end to the other. When he pulled the hand away, it revealed a muzzle of ice clasped across the orphan's mouth. The boy's screams were muffled and manageable from then on.

Elias returned his gaze to Sayana, content with his prize. "When you have something for me, you'll find me where we first met. Until then..." Cold eyes drifted for a moment to the squirming pickpocket hovering nearby. "We both have work to do, so I bid you goodnight." He said with a wry grin, bowing ever so slightly as he watched his would be partner in crime disappear into the distance.

It wasn't until he was certain she was good and gone did he return his attention to the boy. The cold had taken its toll on his gaunt and malnourished flesh, but he was still awake, still capable of serving him.

"Now, my little thief, you're going to tell me where all the other rats are hiding, or I'm going to to do you now all the horrible things I'm going to do to her later..."