Closed The Price of Dreams

[Vanari]

Fall, Day 32, 513 AV Three. Two. One. Go! Vanari almost willed herself to stand up, then slumped her shoulders with a heavy sigh. She sank deeper into the moldy crate she had been perched on for the past bell and wondered idly if it were possible to die of boredom. The Vantha had originally planned to spend the afternoon resting, since for the past two days she had been doggedly pursuing her now occasional employer's approval where ever it went. Nitrozians were a tough lot to please, it seemed, and she could not afford to get on Valerius's less pleasant but just as clean shaven side--she didn't think it wise even in private to accuse her student of having a "bad" side. That, and attending her first mass at The Temple of the Black Sun had been as equally fascinating as it was unsettling. She had every reason to stick to her plan, every reason to rest before she found herself in yet another demanding situation. But gods, how dreadful it was to simply do nothing, lying in her scratchy cot while sleep continued to escape her no matter how hard she counted those sheep. It took about half a bell before she finally flung off her blanket, stuffed her feet into her boots, and stormed out of Tarsin's before she could convince herself to burrow back into the comfort and safety of her bed. Busking seemed like it would have been a worthwhile endeavor. So, as usual, the Vantha found a suitable crate, plopped herself down, and wracked her brains as to what kind of story she could tell. And wracked. And wracked. And wracked... Petch it. What if she just stood up and improvised? She'd done it before plenty of times. Just do it and don't think about it too much. Yes. Right. Here we go! She tried thrice before finally admitting defeat. Hence, the sullen expression, the full acceptance of the moldiness of the crate. Perhaps today was simply not a day for a performance or a story, which was a hard thing to admit for a Skyglow. As she mulled over her pitiful state of inactivity and meaninglessness, Vanari reverted to doing what she did best in situations like this: people watching. Tall ones, fat ones, skinny ones, stumpy ones--her eyes flicked from one person to the next, sometimes only studying their clothes or noses or wares. Whatever caught her attention first. It was during a particularly deadening lull that the Vantha caught sight of something so out of place she nearly leaped up from her crate. A curious looking fellow wearing a boldly colored trench robe, not necessarily intimidating in size or stature, but definitely exuding something decidedly out of the ordinary. She only managed to catch a glimpse of the stranger's back, but her attention was hooked. She barely hesitated as she stood up from the crate and mixed into the dingy crowd, keeping her eyes glued to the hem of red and azure robes. Ennui was for the hopelessly uncreative. She would be its victim no longer.

[Miro]

Miro had taken to searching about the Docks for useful and interesting things. Included in these "things" were places, people, events, anything that sparked some form of interest. It was a necessary step in understanding any place, to become familiar with the things that happened within it. Or more so to learn what interests one may find within the city and pursue. The last season had given him a taste, and a niche was being made, though he hadn't found satisfaction. It was as if something was missing from his life still.

Perhaps this was Rayage's company, or the target that had brought him to the city in the first place, but it was something. He had made progress towards gaining some relevance under Rhysol and within the organization that ran the city, but little had been done towards finding Forus. After hiring support to gather intelligence for him, the wizard only focused on gaining personal influence. A necessary thing within the floating city, however it had done nothing to bring him closer to his prey. Though it was hard to find drive when left alone with none to acknowledge any action he made. It was feelings like this that pushed him to hire Lessomm, his personal servant.

Though he often found himself feeling left without even with a servant. The man was good for cleaning, providing company enough to relieve anxiety, but little more. He was dedicated to his work, and Miro was dedicated to using the servant as he planned. It was its own bit of work, but the wizard had plans for the man who's trust he had bought. Though the plan required Lessomm to be treated a specific way, which disabled so many things the Chained One craved. Domination came in the form of slight of hand and sly manipulation, though only in small doses. And there could never be enough plans set in motion to further his power. He wanted more.

It was not impossible for him to find someone to take into a dark alley and have his way with, to torture, kill, and then leave them sitting there, but highly unlikely he would get the chance. He hadn't so far, even in this city. None were so brazen as to make an attempt on him, even with his slight limp in his left leg and slung arm. Walking through dark alleys meant little when the metallic clinking of a battle robe drew attention to a skull branded face. The Mask of Many was so threatening to most that it kept him safe. It did not stop the dirty looks, as he still wore some features openly that revealed his non-human condition.

And though as an apprentice of the Ebonstryfe the Reimancer wished he had more authority, the truth was he had very strict limits on what he could get away with. It was not worth it to lose everything he had worked for and be lost from Rhysol. Though this could only happen when there were witnesses to a crime. As long as none were left this was fine. It was for this reason that he always dreamed of catching somebody off guard in an alleyway. He knew just how he would play with them. There were even days were considered shedding his robe and donning rags to look a more valid option.

Though such things were drastic, and might be considered a good deed in the eyes of some. That sense of honor about the act made it seem cheap. There was nothing cheap about manipulating those around him for naught but gain and selfish desire however. It was truly the best way to go. The best was to have a servant like Lessomm, one who was loyal and called you master. They served, and the master plotted a way for them to be of use to him. Employed to do some mundane task, but walking a path that grew darker with each step.

The wizard's thoughts were interrupted by his Familiar however. "Miro, you are being followed. Do not turn to look. There is no need to be alarmed." A wonderful interruption indeed, the Chained One grew a wide grin. "Do they look tough?" The Iryllid was not one to discriminate by gender, though he did not find the woman threatening. "Not in the least. I could dispose of them with ease." Though that would not do. He had been issued a gift. Perhaps he could have a bit of fun today.

There was a nice dark alley not too far from here. The Reimancer began to produce Res in a thick liquid and leak it into the ground beneath his cloak. He made his way toward the alley and guided along the pool of Res in the ground beneath him. It snaked along and grew in size until he turned off of the street. It remained under the ground at the entrance to the alleyway and he walked further as to cross and make his way onto another street. "Tell me if they follow me through there." He so hoped they would play a fun game with him.

If Ender would tell him of their crossing his Res, he would turn and command it to rise up and transmute into a wall of ice. With their exit cut off, his stalker could only proceed forward and deal with him. Whatever the case he was prepared. If it was going to be a fight, his sword was at his hip, and he could assassinate them with Reimancy. However if he did not wish things to escalate he could display his apprentice badge and declare himself Ebonstryfe. They would be alone however, and finally he would have his chance. Somebody wanted to play for their life.

But first he would need to know their motive and reason. Was the Ebonstryfe following him, or did a family have it in for him. Were they interested in begging him for money, or perhaps even had some value to him alive. After freezing their escape he would speak to them. A simple enough question for the stalker, threat or not. Showing his masked skull of a face he would roar in a stern voice. "Why have you been following me, what do you want with me?" And he would be ready to react with violence or an apologetic facade.

[Vanari]

The longer she followed the strange fellow, the more uneasy Vanari began to feel. Several times, she sensed that maybe he was aware of her presence, but how could he be? She was much too far behind him still, and the streets were still bustling with activity. Her wariness, however, held little sway over her curiosity and dread before another pointless evening spent in nothingness. It couldn't hurt, could it? she reasoned with herself. I mean, I'm just following him around a bit to see what he's up to--he's dressed much too strangely just to be some casual city dweller taking a stroll through the docks. Plus, it's not like I'm trying to rob the man or something. What could possibly go wrong? No sooner had these thoughts occurred than the Vantha found the crowd thinning as the mysterious man vanished into an alleyway. Cursing, she hesitated for a few ticks, then slinked after him. Which was perhaps one of the biggest mistakes she had ever made, because where a clear opening once stood to the alleyway was now a giant, wall of ice. Sorcery. Should have known. Her first instinct, oddly enough, was to hack at the wall with an ice pick. At least, that was what she would've done back in Avanthal...but she was in Ravok now, and not even the Stryfe would be able to easily get through a thing like that, assuming they cared enough to heed her cries for help. Vanari was tempted to curse again, this time for her foolhardy endeavors and lack of forethought, but knew it would only make herself an easier target. Having no choice but to move forward, she kept on hand near her Tamos as she proceeded forward with caution, straining her eyes in the dim lighting. What she met further down the alley, however, almost made her turn tail and charge with all her might against the ice wall. Towering before her in long, red robes was a gaunt figure wearing a gruesome looking mask. One of his sleeves was completely empty, and though he looked mostly human aside from the frightening mask covering his face, there was something distinctly unsettling about him that made Vanari wish she had never tried to follow him in the first place. "Why have you been following me, what do you want with me?" the man roared through his skull mask, causing Vanari to flinch in fear. She held her ground, however, convinced that if she simply told him the truth, then maybe he would be less inclined to blast her to bits...or, whatever it was that sorcerers did to people they didn't like. "Nothing, sir," she uttered slowly, hands help up to show she wasn't holding any weapons. "In truth, I've been struggling to find purpose in this city, and followed you thinking you were someone different, someone interesting. I meant no offense by it, I swear on my own soul. I'm no thief or petty robber, just a humble storyteller who was in search of a new story to weave, is all." She gulped, eyes dark blue with fear, hoping against hope her whole truths didn't sound like lousy lies, and that the man would let her leave the same way she had come. The Vantha would have risked a glance backwards to see if the ice wall had melted or disappeared by any chance, had she not been so terrified of what the stranger would do next. Vanari was a crummy fighter at best; she seemed to have more success bashing people with vases than she did incapacitating foes with her daggers. Mostly, she just stayed out of trouble altogether, avoiding any situations where she might have to fend for her life. Well, so much for that method working out for her.

[Miro]

Miro was seething with desires that were difficult to control. It was the perfect situation, one he had always dreamed of. The only thing that kept him from losing control was the satisfaction from causing fear. Ender noticed something strange from the woman however. She spoke her lines, and was obviously frightened. And she obviously realized how easily it would be for the wizard to kill her, even from there. He smiled, happy with her answer. It seemed that putting her at ease was the best option. The Irylid spoke as his master reached into his sling and pulled his Ebonstrfye apprentice badge.

"Miro, that woman, her eyes were not that same color when she was following you. She changed them, she is a Morpher. But you have her trapped. What do you have planned for her?" But the undead knew better. Her features, the changing eyes, love of storytelling, it was obvious what she was. The only thing that puzzled him was why a Vantha would allow herself to be trapped by ice. Fear could cause people to act without reason. The Reimancer began slowly walking forward and displayed his identification clearly. "Relax, I am Ebonstryfe, I won't hurt you." He tucked his badge away and snapped his fingers. He tapped his Ice Reaving mark and the wall of ice shattered to a pile of melting rubble.

Miro walked before her and presented his hand to be shaken. He watched for the woman's eyes to change again. "I am Miro, Master Reimancer of Ravok. Forgive the magic, I was startled by the presence following me. But now that I see you, I realize I have naught to fear." He avoided giving a smile that would reveal the sharp fangs beneath his mask, but did allow a smirk to rest upon his lips. "I am surprised though, you look to be Vantha, so why do I not sense a mark of Morwen? I thought all of our people were born with her mark. At any rate, it is a pleasure to have such a sight as your eyes. And if you are searching for a story worth telling, I advise you to spend a bit of your day with me. Though, of course, you are free to go on your way."

To gain her trust and drag her about town opened up a wide range of options. He could have her serve as his accomplice to further acts of domination, slowly dig a hook into her. Fill her with hypnotic approval for the wizard, give her the purpose she craved. Much like Lessomm, this woman could offer the Chained One a way to satisfy some of his cravings. Even prove to be useful in some other way. The wizard corrected his Familiar. "Before I met you, when I was alive, I was of mixed blood. My mother that raised me was a Symenestra, but the father I never knew was Vantha. Their eyes change with their emotions. She does not seem the wizardly type." What must be done with this opportunity was obvious.

"You are right in thinking I am someone different. I am a master of magic, hero to an entire city, and after traveling across Sylira, I am now a servant of Rhysol. If you care to hear, I have a few stories of my own. Or, if you prefer, I suppose we could create our own tale. Together we can explore the city in search of excitement, or dazzle you with my magical talents. You have made me very curious about you. I would love to hear about this lack of purpose you feel. As a servant of the city, perhaps I might be of assistance." The Hypnotist expanded his aura of influence to envelop the Vantha, and began to channel his Djed into his eyes. His gaze would push an assortment of emotional responses. Happiness, excitement, mischief, and finally a sense of security.

Miro made a move to push things forward. He had a few ideas for how things could go, but was not sure which scenario would play out. At best there was a general sense in how to move things, and would attempt to control as many variable as possible. The key for now was to stay close to the woman. See which outcome she favored, and then guide her along the path. There was so much that could be done. "A beautiful young woman like yourself, you should be careful walking alone. I will not ask the status of your citizenship, but warn you of the risks. You would be a prime choice to be taken slave. However you will be safe with me. At the very least, allow me to escort you for a while."

[Vanari]

At first, Vanari found herself teetering on the edge between sticking around to listen to the wizard and recklessly throwing her daggers at him before making a mad dash towards the now open exit. He was interesting, there was no mistake about that--more interesting than likely anyone else she had encountered so far within the city. But, the more he spoke, the more wary the Vantha found herself feeling. At his mention of being a Stryfe, it took every ounce of control she possessed not to make a run for it right then and there. For a single, painful moment, a thousand, panicked questions invaded her mind. Had they found her at last? Were they following and tracking her all along? Would they take her now to be silenced once and for all, or worse...interrogated? Had they found Ria as well? She took a slow breath as the man continued speaking, reminding herself it would do no good to panic. If he wanted her dead, she'd be dead. If he wanted her captured alive, her only chance was to wait for the right moment to escape. And in order to do the latter, she would have to think straight, to clear her mind. The Vantha took Miro's hand and shook in greeting. He felt oddly...cold...could it be from working with all of that ice? And then he tapped something Vanari could only assume was a mark of Morwen, effectively shattering all thoughts of Stryfe and coldness along with the wall of ice and replacing the broken bits with downright shock and incomprehension. This...Miro...was a Vantha? He, a master reimancer--whatever that was--not only had a mark of the goddess, but referred to Vanthas as our people? Was it truly possible this strange man was one of her own? Vanari narrowed her eyes as she answered, "It's true that I don't have a mark of the goddess's favor...most receive one, as you must know, when they come of age, but I did not. A few others I knew of were the same, but we were allowed to live, so we merely took it as yet another condition of life. Though after all this time, I've come to realize Morwen may very well have had a purpose in mind. A purpose for me. As though she knew I was not meant to stay." She blinked, surprised she had said as much as she had. Before she could properly analyze her own growing complacency, Miro spoke again, this time with far more flourish and enticement than only a few ticks prior. Her feelings of unease and suspicion gradually transformed into ones of excitement, even trust. He was offering her the very things she had struggled all day to find, and like a gift from the skies the opportunity to learn of magic, to weave new tales, and to create meaningful companionship... ...Why, it almost seemed too good to be true. And yet, while the Vantha would ordinarily have question such good fortune, this time she didn't. She simply attributed her lack of caution for her recent and continuing attempts to impress Ionu. Besides, there was no reason not to trust a Stryfe if you hadn't technically done anything wrong in the city, right? At last, Miro sealed the deal with his assurance of safety. Though Vanari was rarely if never called beautiful without some agenda driving such compliments--the only exception being perhaps Ria, whose memory sent her heart into another embarrassing flip--the threat of being sold off as a slave grew more and more real as each day passed. It was a minor miracle she had made it this far without running into a doomed fate for herself; she would attribute it to her own, praiseworthy abilities to survive, if she hadn't so much help along the way. Vanari squinted at the wizard, mirroring his slightly unsettling smirk with a small one of her own, her eyes flashing a tawny green. "Well, it's either follow you, or go back to sitting on moldy crates, twiddling my thumbs. Not a terribly hard choice to make." She folded her arms and rolled back on the balls of her feet. "The name's Ari. Traveling storyteller and carver, visitor to the lively city of Ravok, and now willing accomplice to whatever it is that master wizard Ebonstryfes do. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Miro. I shall gladly follow you on your various stately and magical comings and goings. What sort of dazzling business do you have in store for today?"

[Miro]

Miro felt slightly sorry for the young woman who had been ignored by Morwen. She was forced to comfort her mind with suspicions of a greater fate, but obviously failed to realize how few were greater than that of an Ice Reaver. The wizard's own was an exception, but he was marked by the goddess still. It was a disappointment to see one with the beauty of a Vantha without the grace of Morwen's mark.

But then things got slightly odd, if even slightly fortunate. She, her name Ari, had declared herself willing accomplice. Perhaps it was a bit of naivety he could take advantage of, but maybe just this once it wouldn't be. A Vantha forsaken by the Ice Queen, Lhex had already given her tale enough trouble. Today the undead wizard would bring a bit of Alvadas to Ravok. Perhaps as well some ice too. The city would be so beautiful with frozen channels and snow covered streets.

Indeed, icy channels would make travel difficult for any who wished to pass through by Ravosala. It would cause them a bit of trouble. Trickery was just Ionu's way, how delightful. "It is a pleasure to meet you was well young miss. Ari, what a charming name, how fitting. It is not often we see your kind in the city. You should mind where you go and when you are about. Or at least keep capable company. If you do not have a weapon, I suggest you get on." He waved his accomplice over to him. "Come now, stay close to me. I have something in mind, though it is quite mischievous. I hope that is not too much of a problem."

Miro forced his body to hobble forward a ways until he was at the edge of the channel. It was far from a busy, but still was bound to see the occasional Ravosalaman push through. The Reimancer knelt down and placed his hand in the water. He focused his Djed to flow into his right arm and begin to transmute Res. The act he had performed so many times happened so naturally by now. The aqua colored liquid came flooding out of the his cloak's sleeve and into the river. It attracted water and flowed across the water to form a damming.

The undead removed his hand from the water and the barrier or Res was transmuted to ice. It was thick, visible above water level and attached firmly to each side of the street. No vessel would be able to navigate the waterway, yet it would be so simple to remove the obstruction. Even if the wizard had caused the problem, if compensated a little he would remove it. Or cause trouble, which was entirely possible. They would have nothing to worry about though. "There we go, a blocked waterway. Anybody coming through will have their path obstructed. When that happens we have a little fun with them."

Ender was surprised by the actions of his master. It was not often that the Familiar sensed such gentle feelings from his partner. It did seem that there was a soft spot for the Vantha in him, and the Irylid could possibly understand why. Those who were the children of Morwen must be special. He spoke to Miro telepathically. "I am not sure what you expect to get out of this. Could it be as simple as a toll? It certainly doesn't seem something you would do." The undead was amused by the remark. "Sometimes it is just nice to enjoy a bit of company in peace. I have always felt myself more a Vantha than anything else. Of course you can understand I feel some kinship with them still."

[Vanari]

As Miro spoke, Vanari's shifting gaze flickered across the dark surface of the man's strange, somewhat frightening mask. It was hard to gauge his reaction to her words. Did he appreciate them? Scorn them? Even believe them? At the very least, his tone suggested he wasn't completely off put by her manner. The Vantha, despite all her years of traveling, found it difficult to shake the habitual ease with which she greeted strangers. It was normal in Avanthal. Celebratory, sometimes, even to welcome new folk in because visitors were so rare. She could still remember the excitement she and Sania shared whenever a traveler came to stay by their hearth. The chance of hearing a foreign story, or learning of another's culture, or receiving news of the outside world was enticing enough to anyone living within Morwen's icy domain. Before Ari could assure him she did have weapons to protect herself with--though, admittedly, she was less than adept with them--the wizard Stryfe told her to stay close, as he had something mischievous in mind. She blinked after his hobbling form for a moment, wondering what sort of mischief one of Rhysol's ruthless enforcers was willing to partake in, then strode after him. Whatever it was, she decided it best not to miss it. They stopped at the edge of the channel and Ari peered up at him curiously. What was this fellow up to? She watched no small amount of anxiety as he knelt down by the flowing water and placed his hand in the water. What in the name of Morwen... Vanari's eyes went wide with golden surprise as a strange liquid began flowing out of Miro's arm and forming some sort of dam across the canal. Then, when he removed his hand, the dam somehow became...ice! And, if she hadn't been sufficiently shocked at such a feat, the wizard further stunned her by suggesting they could have a bit of fun with whoever ended up stuck on one side of the icewall. "Wuh.." Ari exhaled in a rush of air, "How...did you do that?" In her dazzled wonderment, she hadn't even thought to question why a member of the Ebonstryfe would cause any sort of trouble for the Ravosalamen without ample reason. The only query she could think of in that moment was, how powerful was this Miro truly to do something like this with such ease?

[Miro]

Miro admittedly did hope that some coin would come of this, but was more into the trouble it would cause. To share a laugh with somebody at another's expense was always a treat. Though whether or not somebody like the Vantha would understand was a mystery still. Though the impression Reimancy had on her was quite clear. Perhaps it was time that she learned a bit more of the undead Ebonstryfe. There were things about him that made him seem quite honorable. Even more so when Hypnotism was added, if such a push was necessary. As if necessity was the key factor in Hypnotism use.

The wizard turned to his accomplice and began to spout his boastful words. "What you see before you is a mere trick compared to what I am truly capable of. An act of magical mischief to remind me of a simpler time. You see, I was not always an Ebonstryfe, nor as strange as I appear now. There was once a time when I was young, lively, and most of all I was free. I lived in Alvadas as a gladiator in the Akeldama Colosseum. Every day I would fight for the roaring crowd and the glory of a battle well fought. By doing this I became quite the expert wizard, and a capable fighter. But Alvadas isn't always playful illusions and amusing performances. Sometimes the city shows a much darker side."

Indeed the apprentice spoke the truth too. He recalled more than a few times the city put his life at risk unexpectedly. This unlike the threats posed by the citizens of a city, this was instead the city posing a threat itself. Seemingly cursed locations, unexpected illusionary changes, even powerful artifacts being set loose. Ionu knew no bounds on his trickery. It even seemed he hated his people before finally the wizard left his home behind. "Alvadas is amazing, being the city of illusions, but Ionu is twisted. The god uses the city as a playground. I once fell into an illusionary underground of Alvadas. A place where only the darkest spawns of imagination exist. It tortured my mind and strained my sanity, but that is hardly the worst thing that happened to me in that city."

Miro cringed to remember being bound to that illusionary table before his life was taken from him. "There was once a threat that even Ionu could not handle. A powerful artifact had gotten loose, one that had made trouble in the past. This was the Kasai-Dala Mirror, a creation of the mad god that allowed for wishes to be granted." The undead moved close to the young woman to tell his story, eager to be in her presence. He was even excited to tell the story to another as some heroic tale. The best part being that he himself was the hero. So near to Ari, his enthusiasm began to wash over her. He began to push an emotional response of excitement onto her through his very presence.

Indeed his words only furthered the tension in the air and pushed the hypnotic effect further. "Some nameless villain had wished for the heroes of Alvad legends to be restored to life, though their minds were perverted by the process. There were clouds in their minds and they fixated themselves on what little they remembered until the point of madness. All of them except one who was already mad beyond measure. She was the woman who had caused trouble with the mirror before. One who wished herself supreme beauty. Her name was Drysalla, and she was indeed gorgeous beyond words." Yes, he was sure the story would draw in his new friend, for this tale was true. No Vantha could pass up such an opportunity to hear a story so grand.

"You see, Drysalla was not just revived, she was practically made a god herself. While the city was dealing with the many restored legends causing chaos, Drysalla began to realize her abilities. Somehow she had gained the ability to control the illusions of the city, and was seemingly unable to be defeated in combat. She could create anything her mind imagined and warp the city's landscape on a whim. I was alone when all of this started happening, but I knew what I must do. There were horrible things happening, and there were people in the city I had to protect. I encountered Drysalla as I ran through the streets. She was near to harming the woman I cared for. It was not long after I realized how powerful she truly was."

Miro grinned with excitement while recalling the tale for once. Normally his mind only filled with despair and regret, but now spoke of it as his greatest triumph. So few could tell it how he could, and none were as heroic as he on this day. "I managed to allow my friend to run off, but then found the ground under my feet to be gone. I was in the air falling instead. I fell for some time, and when it appeared I would be saved by some flying creature, suddenly I was again safely on the ground. Apparently I had bored the woman, and she moved on to torment others. But that wouldn't be my last encounter with the villain." The details on their final encounter were less than noble however. Perhaps some of it would be obscured.

Again he began to push a hypnotic effect on the girl. Through sheer force of presence he began to push a strong sense of awe that would grow with the next section of the story. "I found myself in the presence of the Alvadas government attempting to put an end to the many threats to the city. While multiple plans were coordinated, in the end they all fell through. Drysalla managed to gather up the strength to change the entire city to fit her vision and design. She created a massive castle surrounded by nothing but ruin. A place where only she ruled, and all those who still existed were under her control. However a powerful Illusionist managed to shield a select few from the effects by the power of the city's elementals. I was one of these chosen few."

The hypnotic effect faded, but the story continued. Miro’s voice was strong and assured. "We were to be the heroes of the city, though not all of us were so dedicated. There were outsiders among us, and those who were weak of character. Feeble of mind or heart. One fiend turned against us, and I had to kill him. The struggle however drew Drysalla's attention, and I was brought to her chambers. I found myself in the innermost part of the massive castle in the blink of an eye. She toyed with me yet again before striking a mortal wound on me. The immortal she was, it was no match at all. And what followed next was the most horrific experience I have ever found in this lifetime."

The Chained One's scars ached just thinking about it. The story she told was burned into his mind, as they were some of the last words he heard before death. "That single wound was not enough for her tortured mind however. She created a table, pinned me to it by several large spears, and then she told me the story of how she was killed. How her beauty attracted attackers who pinned her to a table as she did me. And how they, well, you needn't hear the rest. But it was her very wish that caused her misery and demise. A lesson hard learned." Though obviously as the story was told the man standing before Ari should be dead. And though he did die, the fact that Uldr was his savior was not an appealing end.

The wizard gave a chuckle and slight pause for the details to sink in before he continued. "You must be wondering then how I am alive then, right? Well that is where the story comes to a conclusion. I was met by the Illusionist, the last remaining hero and a mysterious person who never gave his name. The three capable warriors fought against Drysalla, but could not match her. However the mysterious person had in his possession the mirror. He made a wish to absorb Drysalla's power, but the effect could not be completed. As the wish was being performed, the artifact was knocked from his possession. She was weakened, but still far too powerful to beat. All would have been lost, but I just barely retrieved the mirror using the last of my magic. Since there was no way for Drysalla to be beaten as she was, I wished to seal her away inside of me. That way we would die together."

It was not exactly how things went, but close enough. Some things were switched around, some modified slightly, others completely made up. The end result was mostly the same however. In the end he was a hero who fought the villain, fell to her, made a wish and was finally revived. The impossible foe was still defeated by him, and he is still here to tell the tale. Still left with a heavy burden. "I did not expect that the wish would sustain my life, but it did. I also did not expect that my body would be cursed because of it, but it was. Much of my body is dead and blackened, but with the power taken from Drysalla the city was able to be restored. I was named Hero of Alvadas, a dream I had always had. Though sometimes it is only after we realize our dreams that we find how foolish we have been."

Miro sighed and placed a hand softly on the Vantha's shoulder. Once more he impressed an emotional response, but this time of sympathy. "If you had asked me what I would have wished for before that happened, it would have been for me to be hero of Alvadas. Beloved by all people and known as their noble savior. If you were to ask me today, it'd be that wishes never existed. That all of those innocent lives ruined and taken were still here today. The Akeldama Colosseum was destroyed that day with my best friend inside looking for me. I lost my entire family that day, as well as a part of me that I will never find again. Eventually the curse that wish left on me will kill me too." At least it was a rather eventful story. As well told as it was, he wondered how it would be taken. He had only one thing to say now. "That's my story, and I swear every word is true."

[Vanari]

Ari could sense, as most Vantha could, the impending approach of a grand tale in the Stryfe's words. Though his introduction seemed perhaps a little too grand for her usual skepticism concerning men and their fanciful imaginations, a single word swept all of her practical concerns aside. Alvadas. The girl knew nothing of the city, other than that it was sometimes called the City of Illusions, and that it was the Trickster's domain. Which only made her crave to learn more, to be brought ever closer to her greatest, most ambitious dream. Even if the knowledge newly gained painted her view of Ionu's enchanted reign a shade darker than it had previously been. A dark side...Vanari listened, her fascination undisguised and unguarded, eyes shifting between a fierce gold and caustic tangerine in her shock and excitement. She had never before heard of anyone speaking ill of the Trickster, or its capricious city. Not that what Miro said was outright spiteful, but plenty of resentment and warning lingered beneath. There was a certain eeriness to his story, to the idea that torture by imagination--the worst kind in the Vantha's opinion--was not only capable by the elusive deity, but also far from the most harm they could do. The vagrant had little time to begin doubting her companion's unraveling tale as he moved from one astonishing subject to another. From gladiators in Alvadas to a powerful artifact that rendered even Ionu helpless. She drank in the information as thoroughly as she could, taking note of the various names and terms he mentioned. Miro, once a gladiator in the Akeldama Colosseum. The Kasai-Dala Mirror, created by a mad god to allow the granting of wishes. Drysalla, a woman of unimaginable beauty who still craved more. For some inexplicable reason, the more she heard and the closer the Stryfe stood, the more Ari's heart raced with anticipation. What would happen next? How was this artifact contained, if ever? And then, an unexpected twist. The storyteller himself was revealed as the unlikely hero, rising to the defense of a woman he cared for. Vanari found her mind whirling at these new pieces of information, trying to predict what would happen next. It seemed a truly terrifying battle against one so strong; perhaps Miro had been speaking in earnest of the scope of his abilities and strength. But the more he spoke, the more uneasy she grew. This woman's power seemed to great, as well as the odds against Miro's former self. But he had to have come out on top. Otherwise, how would he be here right now? As the stryfe's story came to a close and unveiled what had happened to his body, Ari felt a wave of sympathy for the man. He'd been trying to save the others, and in the course of his heroism he almost lost everything. How did he live with a dead and blackened body? What was that like? The girl wanted very much to ask, but found herself hesitating, for he had not quite finished and it seemed crass to ask of such things at the moment. If she had thought being cursed was tragic enough, she was wrong. Ari felt a rush of sadness course through her as he explained how foolish he felt his dream had of being the hero of Alvadas. How he had lost his family, his best friend, and eventually even his own life. The Vantha knew she ought to be questioning how he was still walking and talking now, but her mind felt somewhat fuzzy and it was hard to focus on anything but overwhelming lament at his fatal ending. It didn't seem fair, that he had conquered the villain whilst sacrificing himself, only to come out with what seemed like punishments instead of just rewards. Vanari was vaguely aware of a hand placed softly on her shoulder, but her attentions were committed almost solely to Miro's last statement. That he swore that everything he had said was true. "I have no reason to doubt you," she assured, gaze now a pool of deep blue in her reflective sadness. "We Vantha know better than anyone that a story does not have to be based on pure fact to be true. And worth telling. And, more importantly, worth hearing." Ari looked around them now, at the ice in the canal and briefly at Miro's strange, eery mask. She blinked as though waking from a trance, though things still felt a bit murky. The girl was about to ask one of her earlier, pressing questions, when somewhere in the distance a dark shape caught her eye. Squinting, it took her a moment before she recognized what it was. "Look! A ravosala is coming!"

[Miro]

Miro gently pet Vanari's shoulder before he lifted his hand. He too saw the Ravosala in the distance. A smirk came to his face as the target was spotted. The Reimancer again knelt to the canal and submerged his hand. He concentrated his Djed to flow into his arm and forth from it as Res. For several ticks he continued to flow the substance from his hand and let it linger in the water. He stood and took his place beside the Vantha with a smirk on his face. "This is going to be fun. Just watch, I'll bet I get a good scare out of him."

The Ravosalaman was without passenger and only pushed himself along. When finally he came to pass the two bystanders he issued a glare the undead's way and hit the blockage of ice. It crackled but did not give way. The man upon the boat stumbled forward with a look of surprise on his face. "What in Rhysol's name is this?" The wizard could not help but to snicker at the comment, already having a bit too much fun. He hoped Vanari shared in this pleasure.

The Chained One reached into his sling and pulled forth his Ebonstryfe apprenticeship badge. He displayed it proudly as he spoke bold words. "That looks like ice to me, a lot of it. I could easily get rid of it for you, but it'll cost you. Let's say three gold-rimmed miza." The Ravosalaman did not look pleased and began to push himself back to navigate around. "Petch you, I'll just go around." But of course things could not be so easy. The Reimancer attracted water to line the canal and transmuted it to ice behind the Ravosala.

The amount of amusement enjoyment Miro got from such abuse of his power was something that most could not understand. The cravings that Uldr issued to his servants, they were irresistible, imprinted onto the soul. The undead's craving of domination being satisfied was a scratch to an ever present itch. "It doesn't look like you're going anywhere. And the price has gone up. It's gonna be five now. And I recommend you take the offer this time." The Hypnotist issued an emotional response of fear to the man with his voice. "My next one you won't like."

There was a moment of hesitation, the Ravosalaman obviously weighing his options. It looked as if he might make a move, try something, but nothing happened. "C'mon, don't do this. That's a day's pay, on a good day too." But the wizard only replaced his badge and walked forward. He stared the man down with an outstretched hand. The look of fear was more than evident on the Ravosalaman, afraid of what would happen if he were to refuse. He groaned and reached into his shirt to dig out the coins. The money dropped into the Chained One's hands reluctantly coin by coin.

Miro clenched his fist and took a step back. He tapped his Ice Reaving mark and the icy barriers melted into the lake. "Thank you for your cooperation. Your donation to the Ebonstryfe is looked upon favorably by Rhysol, I assure you." The man snarled, but made no move but to leave. He did not even respond to the comments. Instead the wizard turned back to Vanari and nodded to her. "See, just a bit of fun. Those Ravosalamen can't be trusted though. I have seen one make five times that amount in a day."

But the paltry sum hardly meant anything to the wizard. He held his hand out atop Vanari's. "Here, this is for you, so take it." The money would not be forced on the Vantha, but he sincerely hoped that it would be taken. He so loved to encounter the native people of Avanthal. Their dark features and colored eyes were so beautiful. The undead stared into Vanari's eyes and softened the tone of his voice. "You know Ari, your eyes truly are beautiful. It is a shame that you have eluded Morwen's touch. But perhaps instead you were meant to find Rhysol."

Though now that Miro had extorted a Ravosalaman, he knew not what next to do. He hadn't much left that could be done to entertain the Vantha. But maybe he did not have to. Ender was still upon his wrist and spoke to him again through their telepathic bond. "Well I am sure glad you decided to do such a thing. You know the Ravosalamen talk to one another, and you are rather easy to identify. I would not be surprised if you have trouble finding a ride anymore." He did have a partner to assist in such things.

The wizard was not interested in what Ender had to say, but instead wished to use him for entertainment purposes. "Yes, I know Ender, but it is alright. Though I must ask you now to shift forms. It would definitely work to impress Ari." The Irylid did not respond, nor did he shift. The feeling of stubbornness could be sensed by the Reimancer, which upset him slightly. The Irylid would shift eventually, as long as he was compensated properly. Though such a thing was hard to do anymore.

"You know Ari, I have something else to show you. It is a friend I made, my partner, a creature form another world. His name is Ender, an Irylid from Fyrden." Miro displayed the silver bracelet upon his wrist, the Familiar in his sealed form. "Our souls are connected, bound for life. This is only a form he takes to remain hidden. His true form is a bit different. Truly he is my closet friend in life. We would do anything for each other." Sometimes flattery worked better than anything. Ender shifted to his natural form, a shiny silver orb of ice.

The Irylid hung in the air motionlessly beside his master against the influence of gravity. The waters of the canal were reflected on the lower half of the orb while the sun was visible in the top half. Though the creature did not speak a word. "He tends to be a bit reserved, but I think he likes you. We bonded a few years ago, and I am sure he has a few stories of his own. Go ahead, talk to him, ask him what you will. Though be warned, once you get him talking, sometimes it's hard to get him to stop."