Fear the Reaper (Rayage, Miro, Evalin, Wrenmae)

[Wrenmae]

The shiftless thing that was before them could not have been human. Actually, Wrenmae didn't know what it was. It looked translucent to him, that languid expression on his face ever the battleground for perplexing theories and unsaid accusations. At the least, Hypnotism seemed to have an effect on the apparition. For that, at least, he was grateful. Miro let his anger simmer into curiosity again and had he not continued speaking, Wren would have considered the matter quickly toward a resolution.

Then Miro offered Evalin.

Thinking back, Wrenmae remembered the first he’d encountered the nuit, studying Summoning in Zeltiva’s library. Something had resonated in him then, but it was a sham. He couldn't decide if he had forgiven her for that or not. In any case, a declaration of death on the enigmatic girl was an unprecedented move. Wren glared at Miro out of the corner of his eyes. What was he playing at? Did the child truly want to push this scion of Dira to reward him without cause? Every moment they stayed within this confined location, they risked death.

“She has been known to associate herself with the professor,” Wrenmae said neutrally, trying to convey the importance of not leading this phantom anywhere in the camp, “But her whereabouts are currently unknown to me.”

Folding his hands behind his back, the hypnotist smiled, breaking the menace in the room with his own bright spirits. In such times of overwhelming danger, he had to play both sides. Miro was impulsive and Isaacs was unknown. Both likely held power he could only begin to grasp and the release of that power might end them all, here, and now.

“Please do not take offense,” the mage began, “But my friend is curious as to what qualifies you to being a servant of Dira. It isn't that we aren't prepared to offer the proper respect to one so honored, it is only that we find it hard to accept that a representative would be sent so far to collect but one soul, and ask for his arrival no less, rather than seek him out personally.”

He stepped between the two, nudging Miro back a pace, “If I may, also, continue that line of logic. Say you did know the time and whereabouts of our demise. Who is to say you are not duping us? We have no means to verify your word and certainly no means to test it. All we can be assured of is that our death is not today.”

Isaacs raised an eyebrow and Wrenmae held up both hands, laughing helplessly, “No, no, I don’t have clairvoyant senses or anything of that nature, simply logic. If you know our deaths, than it stands to reason you've known them since we arrived. Had you foreseen our deaths in combat to you, a smart man would have snuffed our lives immediately, before we had a chance to bring our own powers against you. As such, our deaths are not today. Now, sir, my apologies…but can you prove any part of our tale? It does seem a bit wild.”

[Balderdash]

"I am aware of the girl. She was discovered at the same time as the professor. She will be dealt with." Isaac replied. Evidently, he had no intention of letting either Nuit survive. In response to Miro and Wrenmae's requests for proof, he held his hands in front of him and showed his palms to them for the first time. Both of them had marked upon them what appeared to be a tattoo of a jackal's face... But then, they couldn't be tattoos. They were etched too deeply, and had a sense of foreboding about them. It wouldn't take much detective work to deduce that they were gnosis marks. Turning around once, Isaac revealed a third branded on the base of his neck. "I was hoping I could release the professor discreetly, without causing too much alarm in the camp. You can both appreciate the effects of location, yes?" Of course, the real reason was to avoid revealing himself as incorporeal. "As for your requests... If my marks are not proof enough, I shall tell you your deaths, once my mission is complete." Clasping his hands behind his back again, he said, "The professor will cause a great change in the fates of many, should he reach the undead isle. I have been dispatched to make sure this does not happen." The envoy's brow furrowed slightly, "Now then, shall we go fetch the professor?" OOCGnosis mark description will be updated with the lore.

[Wrenmae]

Wrenmae stared at the jackal marks with growing despair. Three. Three gnosis marks, if this thing was to be believed. He wasn’t messing with a simple favored, no. This one was far more favored by the Lady Death…and to protect his friend, he’d have to play foul.

Gods, he hoped he didn’t leave such a poor impression on Dira.

“Of course, Mr. Isaacs,” Wrenmae was quick to agree, “Our discussion is obviously at an end and I certainly wouldn’t want to keep you, or the Lady waiting. Miro,” he stared at the boy, his eyes wide. Would that he could communicate telepathically. But he dared not do anything obvious in the face of Mr. Isaacs. The next few moments would need to be carefully planned and flawlessly executed. “Please stay close to Mr. Isaacs. Rayage was to meet me at my tent a few moments ago and so I’ll take him there. Be sure that no knights obstruct our path. Considering your affiliation with them, you’re the best to speak to them as we travel.” He smiled at the priest of Dira, stepping out of the tent first.

The moment he’d stepped outside, he took the flask from his belt and hurled it away into the rain.

You got the plan, Zan?

Without you even telling me, fatface.

Fatfa-what?

Sorry, I don’t like not being consulted, I like being thrown even less.

Desperate times

Calls for desperate politeness.

Just go warn Rayage. You should find him in the tent he’s using for Alchemy.

Fiiiiiine. But we haven’t been formerly introduced.

Introductions can come later. I’d find first impressions rather useless if the man you’re to meet has been dragged off to the land of the dead.

They get a whole land?

I’m sure I don’t know what they have. Now go.

Fiiiine. Message boy, away!

In the rain, the familiar was virtually impossible to see, slithering off around tents and miserable guards towards Rayage’s abode. Wrenmae waited till Isaacs and Miro had stepped outside into the rain. With a short bow, he indicated the opposite way Zan had gone, into the gloom of the storm. “The undead do not fear the elements so much as we mortals. Please follow me and I’ll see if I can’t find him at my tent.

Rayage and Evalin were interrupted suddenly as a man burst into the room. He was wearing garb similar to Wrenmae, but his face was different. This was a slightly younger man with a shaper nose, impossibly bright blue eyes and wavy blonde hair. “Hey! Hi!” he started with a frantic wave, “Sorry to be the bearer of interrupting news, but I have a message from Wrenmae.” He paused long enough to mime wringing water from his clothes, clothes that emitted no water as he twisted the fabric. “A priest of Dira calling himself Mr. Isaacs is looking to return you both to some sort of cosmic reincarnation wheel. Guy has the gall to call it a gift…petch of a present right? Anyways, Wren is leading them astray but he can buy ten or fifteen minutes at max.” He grinned. “I suggest you use this time to panic. Or, given slightly more temperate demeanors than most people, hash out some sort of a plan. Wrenmae is of a mind that the fellow is a ghost…on account of the fact that the rain seems scared of him and he’s all wispy and insubstantial, ya know, like a petching Avavali.” He smacked his forehead. “Ya’ll probably don’t know what that thing is. Well. Ghosty and wispy, ok? Use your imaginations.”

Crossing his arms, Zan took one of the seats in the tent. “Well? Chop chop. Let’s get a move on. Dira priest isn’t here for me, so I suggest you both plan something delightful and fast. I’ll just, wait here and bide time till Wren gets back.”

[Rayage]

Rayage listened to Evalin, nodding at appropriate times, ”Once or trice.” he repeated wondering what on Mizahar Miro could be saying about him. Though he knew it must have been good, whatever it was. He had confidence in the boy to not smear his reputation. Though then she got to the more interesting part, answering his question. This is what he has been wanting all along. Of course, he shook his head when she asked that he wouldn’t be satisfied unless he knew. He knew there had to be a good story behind all of this, for the body of a child seemed so… inconvenient. Surely she could have found a better host, though maybe she has learned something from this: to keep multiple candidates in mind when the time to harvest a new body comes. It pays to know people, living people that is.

He gave her the proper respect that she deserved and grinned, asking the same question he did many many years ago, ”What have you learned?” he asked her, hoping that she would take some lesson from this all. ”It’s funny, my dear,” he said, ”life is full of living moments, and in death you forget it all.” he frowned, ”We can’t have that, can we?” he asked, ”We have lived far too long to just forfeit our very beings…” he broke off, his rant coming on but suppressing it through sheer force of will. He wanted to go on, but he wasn’t sure if the immortal would sit through one of his lectors anymore, ”You are, what, about two hundred years old now?” he stabbed at her age, ”Im sure you can draw your own conclusions.” he said waving a hand, not feeling the need to hold her hand anymore. Too much time has passed, their relationship has changed over the years. Where emotion should be muddled by the passage of time, he found it just as strong within Evalin, like she was holding some sort of endless grudge, not only against the gods, but against the nuit himself. It strained their understanding of each other, to put things lightly.

He opened his mouth to talk again, but a hand undid the ties on the flaps of his tent, and in came in a fellow. He looked like Wrenmae, but not. It was an odd character, the presence of the human quickly drew the attention of the nuit, and before he could question it the person talked, and kept talking. A warning from Wrename? This must be serious. Silence took form when the familiar took an empty seat within the pavilion. The alchemist looked at Evalin, ”So, another agent of Dira.” he said almost sighing, ”A ghost nonetheless.” he wondered if he had any other connection to the other agents Dira had sent over the centuries. The nuit however, didn’t seem surprised. ”The goddess has been trying to return me for quite some time.” he said, turning to Evalin, ”Remember what I told you long ago?” he asked, ”What do you say to the goddess of death?” he asked her, taking the situation quite lightly, but inside he was panicking. He couldn’t let Evalin see him shaken by this announcement. How were they going to fight a ghost off? He felt an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time, nervous. Trying to calm himself he slowly counted to ten in his head.

One, two, three, four, while he counted he racked his brain for any solution that could buy them time, five, six, seven, eight, though everything he thought of wouldn’t hurt a ghost, nine, ten, he wasn’t a strong spiritist. He wondered if he could make soulmist and bargain for his life with that. Though he waved that foolish and desperate idea off, it would do them no good, but without knowing exactly how powerful this agent, a priest no less, was he couldn’t think of a good enough counter.

”Dira sent him with this weather most likely.” he said, ”She probably wants this done quickly and discretely, which is why she sent a ghost.” he tried to connect some dots in his head, ”You there,” he pointed to the person who warned them, ”Could you go around and wake up everyone possible?” he asked, ”Say Rayage sent you, and that it is very important.” he told them, ”Especially members of the Wave Guard.” he said, trying to come up with a plan, ”Evalin,” he turned back to her, ”Can you summon up some defenses?” he asked, ”I’ve seen your powers before, and they are impressive.” he nodded confidently.

”Or does anyone have a better plan?” he asked looking at either of them, wondering if they could follow his logic or not. He hadn’t exactly explained himself at all, just gave orders.

[Miro]

Miro smiled at the request of his dear friend Wrenmae. "But of course, Wrenmae. I would be wise to stay close, and to be conscious of the knights." But it was not in his mind that the Syliran Knights should be avoided or kept away. No, that wouldn't do at all. In fact, little of this was working out. In a mocking tone the wizard repeated the words that burned him to his familiar. "If my marks aren't enough proof, I will tell you your deaths. Oh, after you serve me by killing Rayage. As if." If he would not take him at his gnosis as proof, then he would demand to see proof immediately, but even these claims of "showing death" could be faked. Not wait til after he had committed murder for proof.

"I am not so sure Miro. I in fact love his offer. His deal has a lot great upsides I enjoy. Free gifts, I get to see how you kill us, oh and my favorite, Rayage and that tiny corpse are slain. Look, you take his deal, I will offer you another. You kill the corpses, and then you quit using magic, I just might not hate you. Oh, and if you could learn to live safely and quietly, I might even find myself enjoying forgetting that you exist." Miro was quite lucky. Hearing those words reminded him just how blessed he was to have Ender and his priceless insight. Without it he would never know just how flawed his every movement really was.

"There is something he said that I do not understand though. He claims that Rayage will cause a great change in fate in Sahova. What could he mean? Dira does not seem pleased by it though. It is my duty to Zeltiva and as a Syliran Knight to retrieve the artifact from Sahova. My brothers count on me to do so. And of course I can always count on them to assist me. I only fear that the professor's goals may stray in conflict of my own." To this there was no reply but maybe a snickering that may have been in his head. He knew the summon would be pleased to hear of his misery, this was always the case.

The group readied to walk out into the downpour, but there was something more on Miro's mind. He was not ready to go, not ready for them to go onward just yet. "Don't worry Wren, the knights won't be a problem. But I do have a concern about this whole business. I have never seen a marked of Dira, though I have seen a tattoo before. Even your claims of showing death could be faked, yet you are even quicker still to ushering us to kill Rayage. That man, as you have stated, he has great potential. You say that he will cause a shift in fate or some such prophecy, a path that Dira would wish to avoid. Now, I do not expect you to divulge your lady's vision of the future, but I have a duty."

Miro planted his feet firmly at the end of the tent, blocking Wrenmae's path back in and Isaac's way out. The squire's face was cold and dark. He was sorry, but he had an obligation and duty, one that took priority above all personal connections. "You have done nothing for us, and expect the world in return. My world, my friends, my duty, everything you would take from me! You have a decision, and an important one. Show me proof, or it is as simple as finding your mission over with. I have a duty to the scholars of Zeltiva, the knights of Syliras, it goes above any personal wish. The professor, if he is a threat to my mission, I am bound by honor to my duty. If it is that you are the hindrance, then I will serve Dira as to release you back into the cycle."

The wizard was trembling in anxiety, a mixture of fear and anger. He did not know whether he should kill the man now, to stay his mouth before he could wrap chains around his neck, or to follow Yahal's way and retain purity. No, it was not his code. The way of the Zealot, it meant he knew what to do. If Rayage was a threat, he would be captured by none other than Miro himself. From there he would be kept prisoner, even taken to be a knight if possible. He wanted to serve Dira, as she was a noble goddess, one deserving of praise. But it would also be a service to her to chastise those claiming falsely to be in her grace.

Once again Miro spoke to the man, clearing the way out of the tent allowing Issac to pass. "I wish you no ill will or harm, sir, but let us be clear. This camp is made up of two parties, both of which I represent. Of the Zeltivan party, few can demand as much respect as Wrenmae, meaning you have come across the right people if your cause is just. As far as I am concerned however, the professor has great worth. Without proof of your affiliation, or even the ability to inspire some feeling of security you have no business here. It matters little what god you come claiming to be of, if your goal is to slaughter and weaken our camp without just cause, I will stop you."

But he did not wish to harm or turn the man away without a chance to understand the situation fully and prove his value. Even those with trivial matters had a chance within the camp. Letter carriers were not turned away simply because they may carry ill intentions or wish to harm the cause, but it did mean that they were to be checked over. Miro walked out into the rain, which seemed less intense than before. "Come with us, Mr. Isaac. Explain on the way, please. You need only prove it to us. Prove to us you can be trusted, or that you are a representative of Dira. Your fancy tattoos and mystical stories of our deaths will only get you so far, perhaps an escort off site if you're lucky. Remember, you deal with men here, not children."

[Evalin]

Those infernal words once again. "What have you learned?" How Evalin despised those worse, that phrase, for it had haunted her through out her undead life. She could even now picture that time so long ago in his hidden lab in Ravok, could see his superior look as she struggled to grasp even the simplest concept under his harsh tutelage. Yet even more she remembered that final lesson, that time in the darkness when the last traces of her humanity were consumed by flame. How those words were forever driven into her mind... What have you learned...

Now, however, Evalin was not the innocent child she was. She had grown over the last 200 years, which the man felt so inclined to point out, and so she smiled in return to his condescending words, "Indeed my dear immortal. I more than anyone have learned to take lessons wherever they might come, and learn from mistakes made ages past. Though you I fear--" but her words were cut off by the appearance of another.

Words were lost upon the girls tongue as the news was brought that a priest of Dira had come. For a moment Evalin found herself lost for words, lost for thought, yet still her eyes looked at the man cloaked in shadows as he spoke, making light of a situation that seemed all to perils. Raising her eyebrow at his strange demeanor she remained silent, allowing him to continue on in his meaningless rant for a few a time longer. Though the new man who had come might not notice such, Evalin could see in Rayage something most others would never. It gave the girl a quiver of delight, and yet it made something inside her stir with unease, He is frightened... How comical this is, yet truly terrifying all the same.

The chill pressed against her mind once more, When Dira sends word tis best not to underestimate the messenger.

Evalin slowly stood, using her staff as leverage, My Dear Tsenrika, never would I dream of doing such a thing. In truth Evalin was just as nervous as Rayage was, for unlike him she was in the greatest of peril. Her mark of Uldr, it would be like painting a flaming red X over her head and would single her out for immediate death. Evalin doubted that this priest would even give her time to speak before snatching away her immortality, yet despite all this Evalin spoke slowly, in a calm voice that defied her unner turmoil, "Now enough of that Rayage." Her voice was strong, and cracked like a whip. This was one of the few times Evalin had ever called the man by his true name. This alone should bring light to the seriousness of the situation, and show that Evalin was not taking the situation lightly in the slightest. Turning her shimmering red eyes upon her fellow Immortal she said, "Be you silent, for in such a situation as this you are all but useless for you can do nothing to aid our survival as of yet." Evalin knew that Rayage had some skills in Spiritsm, though she did not know his proficiency. Thus she did not let her mind entertain the notion that he would be of any use at all.

Touching the necklace that hung about her neck Evalin whispered, "Come Tsenrika, I have need of you." The entire necklace would shimmer, its surface distorting and sort of melting from around her neck, forming into a perfect sphere which reflected the world around it. Extending her hand to touch the familiar's surface she spoke, "Move yourself to a position above the tent. Keep watch and inform me if you see anyone approaching, be they man, beast or God I care not."

The familiar was silent for a moment, before replying, "As you wish..." in his normal, cold and uncaring manor. With that Tsenrika would float from the tent, positioning himself just over the entrance. The Familiar knew he would not be able to see much due to the rain, yet still his 360 degree line of site would prove useful in the long run.

WIth that task completed Evalin turned to Rayage, "We must move quickly, so aid me in preparing the circle. I will instruct you as necessary."

With that Evalin would begin, using her staff to carve into the dirt lines that would soon form a passageway into another world. As she worked she issued commands to Rayage, guiding him with the proper sequence of the lines. She began with creating the larger outer circle which was close to 10 feet across. Then 16 smaller circles were lined along the inside rim of the larger circle, and finally a third circle was drawn to connect the 16 smaller circles. From the smaller circles were drawing 8 lines to a small inner circle at the center of the entire drawing, and this was then overlayed with a triangular formation, each point of the triangle connecting to one of the outer 16 circles. Finally, once the stable octogon circle was completed Evalin stopped low, filling in the coordinates to Zaiden, one number in each circle: 1069002583582104.

Stepping back Evalin brushed off her hands, looking to both Rayage and teh Wren look-alike, "Do not break the circle. Would take far too long to remake it once it were destroyed, and it must be prepared in case it is needed." Inwardly Evalin hoped that it was NOT needed, for she did not wish to leave her fate in the hands of the Diverse that the circle would summon... To that end she did not wish to leave her fate in the hands of Rayage either. Her eyes fell upon the man once more, cold thoughts flashing through her mind, Why... Why I have I not flown from here? Why have I stayed? To be with this man? Evalin's eyes narrowed. This was not her first time dealing with one of Dira's agents, as she was certain that this was not Rayage's first either, however, for Evalin escape had been simple because Uldr had equipped her to do so, How ironic... his gift to me was the ability to flee from death. Oh what amusement that God must take from this.

Sighing Evalin closed her eyes, brushing a hand across her face as she leaned against her staff, "Now there is no need to panic. All tasks at hand may be completed, but we..." She paused, opening her eyes to look at Rayage, "Must work together..." Or I might flee and leave you to tide over Dira's priest while I make mine escape. But with a mental shrug this thought was once more lost to the void. For whatever reason Evalin would not abandon Rayage to his fate... At least not yet.

"Now then, we must decide. Either we flee, or we come up with a new solution. In either case WE must not come into contact with this priest. Of course Evalin was thinking more of herself, "To that end tell me my Dear immortal, how have you escaped Dira's clutches in the past? Perhaps something you remember shall be useful to us now."

[Balderdash]

When Miro barred the way out to the tent, Isaac tilted his head slightly. Of course, he was respectful enough to listen to the prodigy, and when he finished speaking, the envoy grimaced and nodded. "Very well. I will give you one final proof, and then we will go." While the envoy's inexpressive face was difficult to read, it wasn't a great test of intellect to guess what continuing to stand in his way would mean. Isaac took a step back, held his palms out again, and closed his eyes. Suddenly the jackals' eyes glinted, and their mouths opened, displaying rows of shimmering silver teeth. That was not all though. From both marks, and the third on the back of his neck, a sort of substance that could be described as a cross between quicksilver and smoke began to leak out. Whatever it was, it was definitely not Res. In the span of about thirty ticks, it coalesced into a puddle between Isaac and Miro, then rose up into the vague shape of a humanoid, before finally solidifying into a perfect replica of an old man with a long, greying beard, gnarled, callused hands, and sagging face. The rest of his hunched body was covered by a thick woolen robe. It would have looked exactly like a human, except for the monotone color, and a strange quality in his eyes that was difficult to pin down. "One of the earlier souls that I had released. A mediocre Projectionist. I think that dispels any assumptions that these are tattoos, yes?" And with that, he walked out with the Reimancer, the shadow-person following him. It wasn't all bad, however. Thanks to Miro's headstrong nature, Zan's gambit had escaped Isaac's notice. It would become fairly obvious to Miro as well now that the envoy was ethereal, if it hadn't already. Instead of collecting on his hair or dampening his clothes, raindrops would simply vanish when passing the threshold of his skin, before reappearing again underneath him. As they neared the caravan proper, Isaac's eyebrows twitched slightly, before settling back into their usual spot. As per Miro's request, their journey to Wrenmae's tent was not a silent one. "An appropriate question, master Miro. Understand that I, and the Queen of the Dead, have no vested interest in Sylir's remains, or any single city in this region. It is not personal, it is simply that she cannot discriminate... Since you wish for the simple truth, I will give it to you. If Rayage reaches his destination, Sahova will prevail. Everyone in this caravan will meet their end at that forsaken spit of rock should the professor come home, the two of you included. I hope you understand now, master Miro, why I am here." Soon afterwards, they were at Wrenmae's tent. Isaac didn't bother sitting down this time, electing instead to remain near the entrance of the tent. After all, he had no muscles that could grow weary. One chime passed in silence. Two chimes. On the third chime, the envoy's eyes narrowed, and his stoic voice grew harsh and terrible. "You are lying to me, Wrenmae." It happened in an instant. One moment the Envoy was standing there, and Wrenmae's eyelids were flicking traitorously shut, unaware that something as innocent as blinking could have any consequences. There was a sound like a curtain being pulled back at great speed, and when his eyes were open again, Isaac was so close to him that their noses were almost touching. Miro would have seen the envoy simply vanish and instantaneously reappear in front of the Wave Guard. Isaac's hand shot towards Wrenmae's stomach, and if it made contact... While he couldn't punch, he could do much worse. There would be a sound akin to a burst of static electricity, and Wrenmae would feel as if his blood had frozen solid. It wasn't fatal (Isaac wasn't interested in bringing anyone to Dira early) but it would take all of his willpower just to remain standing. That was not the worst. He would feel something that, for a wizard like himself, was tantamount to denying a painter his brush, or a bladesman his sword. He would feel his Djed leaving him. He would go from almost full capacity, to possessing barely enough to avoid overgiving. Indeed, if he tried to cast at all, he'd begin experiencing symptoms almost immediately. The jackal's mouth was open again, and that same strange substance would be rushing out of the Wave Guard and into its waiting mouth. Fortunately for Evalin and Rayage, they would have warning that their cover was blown. Zan would find himself forced back into his liquid Sarawanki form. Unfortunately, he would also find himself the size of a sparrow. If Wrenmae was down, the envoy's eyes would snap to Miro.

[Miro]

"And now proof. You may have been able to hold ignorance and your own naive nature to shield yourself from the truth, but now even that is gone. The old man will bring about your end, as you can see. This man has come bearing the will of a god, and he speaks what I have warned you of all along. I say it is clear what is to be done, you even have your proof. Need I even warn you against what you have in mind?"

Miro had seen well enough, this man was not a man at all. He was ethereal, like a ghost. Not only that, but he was obviously not telling any lies about his affiliation with Dira. It could be disputed that this was the work of magic, but Isaac held an apparent conviction in his actions, it was not to be trifled with. He made the ground he walked on apparent, and that his name was deserving of respect. How to act given the display though, it did trouble the boy. What Ender had said was entirely true, it seemed he read everything correctly. It was a troubling though, that he may have been correct all along.

For now Miro could only ponder on the fact. It caused him to appear distant and troubled. Seeing the display, the way his gnosis worked, it hardly made him want to cross the man. What he proposed was reasonable, but what he asked was hard. As they walked to Wrenmae's tent, it settled in his mind. "Indeed I do see why you are here, and I am sorry for doubting you as I have. These matters will need to be dealt with, I suppose." But what did Wrenmae think? Leading them to the tent, did he have a plan in mind? Surely he sought to solve it in Rayage's favor.

It started to become apparent that the Nuit wasn't to arrive. Miro glared over at Wrenmae, then back to Isaac, watching him grow ever more antsy. The wizard's res still followed him in the ground, the urge to pull it forth to defend him growing as the tension in the room built. Then it happened, the ghost could no longer buy the ruse. In an instant the man split from reality, appearing on a surprised Wrenmae. It looked as if he was going to try to punch a hole in him, taking Miro by surprise.

"Wait, Mr. Isaac, stop! There has to be an excuse for this, do not harm him." The squire was taken aback, completely startled by the display. He held his hands out, calling out a bit of res to create a small liquid barrier between them. On his face would be visible signs of fright, his eyes turned bright orange from disbelief. "I beg you sir, release Wrenmae! I will do as you say, just do not harm my friend. Please, I will, I, if I must. I shall return the Nuits as Dira commands."

With Dira's priest having his full attention on an unassisted Miro, his mind was forced to decide, fight or flight. He would not consider to leave, to abandon his friend in need, but the decision to fight wasn't right either. Should he attack the ghost or attempt to calm him? He had the res, it would be as simple as transmuting it. Everything turned dangerous, it was his duty to protect everybody. "Isaac, this ends here. I do not want to see anyone harmed. If you want the professor to pass quietly, I am your best chance. He will not suspect me, and with my skills I can bring him to a swift end." For a moment he turned his attention inward, replying to his familiar.

"Ender, I have never asked this off you before, but I fear I must. I need your help, please, work with me. Watch this man, the way he interacts with the world. I fear he may be beyond my capabilities. Rayage may be our enemy later, but for now he may be our only hope of survival. Whatever happens, I will make sure that we survive. Just this once, help me out a little."

[Balderdash]

While it was too late to save Wrenmae from the brunt of the blow, the Hypnotist found himself possessing a third of his Djed pool as the jackal's mouth suddenly snapped shut. Zan would also be spared the humiliating shrinkage, though he would still turn back into a creature from Fyrden. Sadly, nothing could be done about the touch, other than helping him stand. Evidently, Isaac could be solid when he chose to. Of course, the effort a ghost required to do such a thing made it impractical to use it for weather. "I could not stay my blow, though I have lessened it." he said with a light tinge of remorse. "Apologies. I had assumed he would resist." Isaac gently lowered Wrenmae to the ground before nodding to Miro. "If you feel unable to do the deed, I believe I can assist you, if you will allow it. With your permission, I will enter your body and gift you with the skills I had in life." Blinking usually blew one's cover, after all. "If you are a Spiritist, we may even be able to share control. Perhaps even if you are not. Otherwise, I will await your return. But please, don't follow Wrenmae's path. I will know if they are released or not." After a couple ticks, he added, "Did you know that one of the Nuit is a Chained One? They can detect my presence... But I can detect theirs better."

[Miro]

Miro nodded back in acknowledgement. "I understand, Isaac." He could not help but to feel for Wrenmae, the man had suffered so quickly. "Wrenmae, its no use. You are best to relax. I am not eager to do this, but if there is no other answer, I will do what I must. You have done well enough already, so just stay safe." The squire was not so sure about allowing a ghost into his body. Especially one aimed to kill while in his vessel. His power was something requiring control.

"Isaac, I know the monster you speak of. It dwells in the body of a child, yet its mind is dark. That is the creature I fear, and as you say, she can sense you. If you dwell within me, I can not promise things go so smoothly. You see, I am not in the habit of offering control of my body and will. So know, what you ask of me is hard." The squire looked at Wrenmae, reliving the expression on his face after being struck. The shock and terror in his eyes haunted his mind.

"Remember what I said Ender, it may be our only chance. I fear what happens if this ghost is in my body. But I will keep us safe." His summon would wish to object, but Miro continued on and walked towards the priest. "Isaac, you may share control with me. But if you try anything, I am considering it an attempt on my life. But in return, Wrenmae is not to be harmed, no matter what happens."

It was not ideal, but he would take what was offered. It was a risk to allow the ghost such a position, but it was as Miro stated, a duty. What must be done was clear, and there was only going to be one way to do things. Sacrifices had to be made in order to ensure safety. By no means did the wizard plan to offer control, but such things were not always a choice. He was no spiritist, leaving only his will to guide his actions.