[University of Zeltiva] Halls (Hrair, Hadrian and...

[Hrair Ansoub]

"Sounds good" said Hrair. "We can grab a beer at the Kelp bar on the way."

Hadrian did not looked to impressed with that idea, much to Hrair's surprise. Everyone liked beer surely. Hrair shrugged. "We might as well go there now and get started." Hrair downed the last of his brandy with a shudder and the pair left for the berth.

The docks were not too far from Hadrian's residence. As the pair made their way through the streets Hrair exhibited a slight stagger.

"Here we can take a shortcut past the Tavern" said Hrair diving down a long alley, we could even get a drink there." as they made their way down the narrow alley Hrair took a sharp turn to the left along a thin path, where he turned to the right, opened the gate of a yard, went through the yard and into a narrow alley. This was a little known and evidently slightly rough part of Zeltiva. The alley was dark, even in the light of day. Several ne'er do wells loitered with intention. The alley continued away to the east and west into more back alleys. The perfect place for the more discrete businessman. Hrair looked at the few people littering the alley. None of them looked very healthy. They could all do with a good feed. One old gentleman mumbled to himself, occasionally shouting a curse word at his left foot.

"Business?" enquired a poorly looking lady looking at Hadrian.

An older looking lady, evidently the worse for wear came stumbling along the back alley and headed in the pair's direction. The older woman stared intently at Hadrian and muttered words in a language Hrair did not understand. She narrowed her eyes to a glare and increased her volume repeating four words over and over again...

[Hadrian]

Though Hadrian had work to do, he followed Hrair through the streets, wondering what was so special about this tavern that it required going off course just for a drink. He was well aware that even a worn out set of student robes such as he wore was better than a lot of what people in this neighborhood had, and he had to put out quite an effort to hide his growing discomfort. Realizing he didn't know Hrair very well other than the sad history of his cowardice and his penchant for the kelp beer (and an inability to function on it), he wondered if perhaps this wasn't the best idea.

Confronted by the old woman, he pointed at Hrair. "Here to discuss business with my client."

When the language shifted, he wasn't sure what to do. He tried to listen for some kind of key that would help him communicate, though. After all, he had taken all those anthropology classes.

[Hrair Ansoub]

The woman seemed to completely ignore Hadrian's remark.

She repeated "ashe nach deryl shilou" over and over again until the words were like a drill in Hrair's head.

She reached for Hadrian, shrieking in his face and grabbed at his skin with long nails.

[Hadrian]

Startled, Hadrian's hands came up quickly between her arms. The shock stopped him trying to translate her words. Though he spoke Isur and the Ancient Tongue, he couldn't even attempt to recognize her language just then. Out of some sort of self-preserving instinct, djed started flowing out of his hands in the form of res. It came quick and then he blew hard into her face, the res splattering into her after transmuting into water, the effect of which was a sharp slap to the face and soaking hair and clothes--reimancy could be a study in overkill sometimes.

But if that didn't work, he was going to have to wrestle her off of him before she tore off his face.

"Hrair!"

[Hrair Ansoub]

Hrair attempted to pull the old hag away from Hadrain. However the harder he tried to pull at her hands the weaker he seemed to become.

He could see Hadrian's face was starting to bleed. He pulled harder then suddenly let go, his legs buckled under him and he sank to the floor.

The woman's words swirrled within his head and Hrair felt nauseous. These were stranbge words which were been spoken indeed.

Hrair sat on the floor, his head whirling around, trying to focus.

"I can't doooo anytyyying" said Hrair, almost feeling drunk but without the pleasure. "why is the alley going round and round?"

[Hadrian]

Once the woman's attention was otherwise engaged, he acted. Hadrian wasn't really much in a fight, but he crouched down, picked up a board, then stood up and swung it to crack against the back of her head.

[Hrair Ansoub]

The board broke into splinters over the old hags head, and she turned to face the young student.

She narrowed her eyes and began chanting faster and faster. The words seemed to form images which could almost be touched, and the shrill sounds of the vowels penetrated deep into the mind.

[Hadrian]

Suddenly desperate, he wished that Isikais were here with his claws and his capacity of overpowering violence. He felt a sudden drain, then looked down to see his hands dispelling gaseous res in reaction, in preparation. Inspiration struck him, and though it wasn't something he had practiced, the need had arisen and Necessity was the author of many works beyond the known. With a prayer to Morwen singing in his mind, he shoved forward, the res in his hands coalescing into a large, sharp icicle, which he drove directly into her neck.

[Hrair Ansoub]

The hag screeched in pain. Her neck started bleeding profusely. She briefly recoiled from the young student.

Hrair suddenly found his mind clear and he stood to his feet. "Sod this for a game of sailors" he said, grabbing Hadrian by the arm. "Let's do one" he pulled the young scholar towards the entrance of the alley.

The woman screeched once more and managed to grab a hold of Hadrian's arm. She caught his glance and peered right into his eyes. Her glare touching his soul. She mouthed words, they were not the local dialect but somehow strange and archaic, coming from a language long ago.

As her mouths formed words, images coalesced directly within the minds of the pair. Bad images. Images of pain. Images of a searing white hot pain. Images of horrors that went beyond description. The pictures were designed to be disturbing.

Hrair could recognise the child in the images, the old hag but much younger. How could a child endure this? Hrair did not know what was going on but knew enough to know it was an hallucination coming from the hag, forced upon him by some strange power outside his control. Hrair knew they had to get away, He had to pull away from her and this strange power she had over the pair. There was no way he could stand this for long his mind would explode.

He tried to pull Hadrian towards the exit to the alley, but there was no alley. At least not that he could see. he was standing in the basement of a house. It had to be his imagination, it must.

Hrair tried to clear is head.

"Hadrian" he pleaded "what is going on, what is she doing?"

[Hadrian]

Hadrian didn't answer. His concentration was on the woman and their surroundings, his vision enhanced to include energies not commonly visible, and other things that lived lives juxtaposed to their own. This woman, if woman she be, seemed to offer illusions, so he tried to counter it with his practiced vision, mouthing words in another language himself to help him pierce the falsehood and espy the truth.