Day 1, Spring of 513 AV
Near the Kabrin Road, The Wildlands
Eri's Office
Morning
Near the Kabrin Road, The Wildlands
Eri's Office
Morning
"So, I heard that you fancy yourself as a magical investigator of some sort."
The sudden voice woke the vantha from his reverie, glancing up from the desk in his office to find an ascetic-looking man. He had an expression of utter sternness and serenity on his face, his bald visage and utilitarian, gray robes only furthering his look of sustained neutrality.
Eridanus recognized him to be one of the guests who had arrived the night before who had asked for lodging.
"Do you wish to procure my services?" The vantha asked, tidying his messy hair from his unwieldy sleep posture in an attempt to correct his currently unprofessional image before a potential client.
The man gave an airy laugh, instead suddenly directing a stare at the vantha. Eridanus could feel several psychic ripples in the air before he opened his mouth, at which the man lifted a single finger, as if he wished to speak first.
"This is an interesting path a child of Leth would take, though it makes sense considering your crippling a few seasons back." He replied simply.
Eridanus sat up instantly, staring at the man warily. He possessed no gnosis of the moon god, and was in his human form. He had not given anything away to show that he was an ethaefal, and his reputation was not big enough to warrant people knowing. Furthermore, he did not even give the name that people would associate with the questing, adventuring ethaefal, instead using the alias "Mister Syreus Ehm Sol" instead. When he had received the man he had been wearing a hood that covered his form. Yet more importantly, no one here knew about what happened in Alvadas, of the damages that he sustained. He had been careful to act in such a way as to not reveal the weaknesses of his eyes and body, and especially he had been practising constantly to transfer his primary capabilities to his left from his right due to the wound Drysalla gave him.
"Who are you," The vantha responded quietly, a silent danger present in his voice.
The man gave a crooked, humorless grin, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke, "It isn't that hard to figure that out just by pure observation, my friend. I could think of two, maybe three, clues that all converge upon the same conclusion. Firstly, your twin swords placed at the corner of your office. Most people would hang up swords as decorations, yet yours lay against the wall as if you would need it at a moment's notice. Ceremonial swords only have the outsides polished - the sheath - yet your sword is well-oiled and cleaned. Yes, see the crack in between the hilt and the sheath? That part of the edge is shiny in yours but left forgotten in others. That placed you as either a warrior or sword enthusiast. I have seen the way you walk about. The practised and confident posture of a swordsman - no, the swagger of a very experienced swordsman. The air that emanated from you that even the weaponmasters in Syliras struggle to match. The unconscious ferocity in your stride. That strikes out sword enthusiast and firmly places you as a warrior. You look... nineteen? Maybe twenty give or take two years. So maybe you're talented, a child prodigy in the way of the swords. Unlikely. The way you speak and the expression on your face as you contemplate and analyze issues point towards a much wiser brain. Wise beyond your years? Unlikely. Probabilities dictate that experience is the only driver behind this ability. Experience can only be gained by years. You are a warrior, a highly competent one not just in techniques but also in experience, yet you have nary a scar upon your body. You glance upon issues with wisdom, yet your age betrays you. That only points to longevity. You are no nuit, your movements are not sluggish nor is there the sweet smell of decay nor perfume. Furthermore, nuits will not have the physical perfection you have. That only leaves you as an ethaefal. It is the day and you do not have horns, therefore you are one of Leth's children, stranded upon this earth, and you are in your mortal seeming."
The man coughed, and added, "Though I could be boring and say that your disguise last night failed to conceal your true form. But this way is more interesting, isn't it?"
Eridanus opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, gaping at the rapid-fire speech coming out from the man's mouth. He had expected the man to say that he had used Auristics to detect the spark of divine evidence within his aura, as he had with a fellow ethaefal in Zeltiva years before.
"Well, in reponse to your silent question, I did use Auristics, but only to confirm my suspicions, among others. It is evident that you are handicapped, though you carefully act as if you are not. You emanate a ferocious aura, yet you walk in a careful and practised manner - ambling so to speak - to not expose your weakness in the legs. If I may guess your weakness is in your right leg, since in all four times that I saw you standing you spent more instances leaning on your left than your right, and even when you shift to your right you quickly shift back to your left after a few moments. You use your left hand for primary tasks, though you use your right hand for small actions that require dexterity, such as tying knots or even handling cloth to clean the grooves in your blade's sheath. This clearly shows that you are right-handed, yet have a certain level of ambidexterity. Why did you insist, though? From what I have seen, I have noticed the range of motions your arms have gone through, and your right have never raised above chest level. Combined with the weakness in your legs, it is surely not exaggerative to suggest that your entire right side is crippled, and that you are hiding this weakness by pretending to be left-handed. I know this happened several seasons past because there is not enough yet for you to master ambidexterity that can hide it from my eyes, yet there is a level of seasoned experience that suggests some time have passed. That is all."
The vantha slumped back on his chair, realizing the full power of observation that the man had made him realize.
"What, what do you want by coming here and telling me this?" The scholar asked weakly.
The sudden voice woke the vantha from his reverie, glancing up from the desk in his office to find an ascetic-looking man. He had an expression of utter sternness and serenity on his face, his bald visage and utilitarian, gray robes only furthering his look of sustained neutrality.
Eridanus recognized him to be one of the guests who had arrived the night before who had asked for lodging.
"Do you wish to procure my services?" The vantha asked, tidying his messy hair from his unwieldy sleep posture in an attempt to correct his currently unprofessional image before a potential client.
The man gave an airy laugh, instead suddenly directing a stare at the vantha. Eridanus could feel several psychic ripples in the air before he opened his mouth, at which the man lifted a single finger, as if he wished to speak first.
"This is an interesting path a child of Leth would take, though it makes sense considering your crippling a few seasons back." He replied simply.
Eridanus sat up instantly, staring at the man warily. He possessed no gnosis of the moon god, and was in his human form. He had not given anything away to show that he was an ethaefal, and his reputation was not big enough to warrant people knowing. Furthermore, he did not even give the name that people would associate with the questing, adventuring ethaefal, instead using the alias "Mister Syreus Ehm Sol" instead. When he had received the man he had been wearing a hood that covered his form. Yet more importantly, no one here knew about what happened in Alvadas, of the damages that he sustained. He had been careful to act in such a way as to not reveal the weaknesses of his eyes and body, and especially he had been practising constantly to transfer his primary capabilities to his left from his right due to the wound Drysalla gave him.
"Who are you," The vantha responded quietly, a silent danger present in his voice.
The man gave a crooked, humorless grin, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke, "It isn't that hard to figure that out just by pure observation, my friend. I could think of two, maybe three, clues that all converge upon the same conclusion. Firstly, your twin swords placed at the corner of your office. Most people would hang up swords as decorations, yet yours lay against the wall as if you would need it at a moment's notice. Ceremonial swords only have the outsides polished - the sheath - yet your sword is well-oiled and cleaned. Yes, see the crack in between the hilt and the sheath? That part of the edge is shiny in yours but left forgotten in others. That placed you as either a warrior or sword enthusiast. I have seen the way you walk about. The practised and confident posture of a swordsman - no, the swagger of a very experienced swordsman. The air that emanated from you that even the weaponmasters in Syliras struggle to match. The unconscious ferocity in your stride. That strikes out sword enthusiast and firmly places you as a warrior. You look... nineteen? Maybe twenty give or take two years. So maybe you're talented, a child prodigy in the way of the swords. Unlikely. The way you speak and the expression on your face as you contemplate and analyze issues point towards a much wiser brain. Wise beyond your years? Unlikely. Probabilities dictate that experience is the only driver behind this ability. Experience can only be gained by years. You are a warrior, a highly competent one not just in techniques but also in experience, yet you have nary a scar upon your body. You glance upon issues with wisdom, yet your age betrays you. That only points to longevity. You are no nuit, your movements are not sluggish nor is there the sweet smell of decay nor perfume. Furthermore, nuits will not have the physical perfection you have. That only leaves you as an ethaefal. It is the day and you do not have horns, therefore you are one of Leth's children, stranded upon this earth, and you are in your mortal seeming."
The man coughed, and added, "Though I could be boring and say that your disguise last night failed to conceal your true form. But this way is more interesting, isn't it?"
Eridanus opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, gaping at the rapid-fire speech coming out from the man's mouth. He had expected the man to say that he had used Auristics to detect the spark of divine evidence within his aura, as he had with a fellow ethaefal in Zeltiva years before.
"Well, in reponse to your silent question, I did use Auristics, but only to confirm my suspicions, among others. It is evident that you are handicapped, though you carefully act as if you are not. You emanate a ferocious aura, yet you walk in a careful and practised manner - ambling so to speak - to not expose your weakness in the legs. If I may guess your weakness is in your right leg, since in all four times that I saw you standing you spent more instances leaning on your left than your right, and even when you shift to your right you quickly shift back to your left after a few moments. You use your left hand for primary tasks, though you use your right hand for small actions that require dexterity, such as tying knots or even handling cloth to clean the grooves in your blade's sheath. This clearly shows that you are right-handed, yet have a certain level of ambidexterity. Why did you insist, though? From what I have seen, I have noticed the range of motions your arms have gone through, and your right have never raised above chest level. Combined with the weakness in your legs, it is surely not exaggerative to suggest that your entire right side is crippled, and that you are hiding this weakness by pretending to be left-handed. I know this happened several seasons past because there is not enough yet for you to master ambidexterity that can hide it from my eyes, yet there is a level of seasoned experience that suggests some time have passed. That is all."
The vantha slumped back on his chair, realizing the full power of observation that the man had made him realize.
"What, what do you want by coming here and telling me this?" The scholar asked weakly.
