Bad for Business

[Miro]

3rd day of Winter, 513 AV

Miro had finished a delicious meal in his room earlier. The remains were not pleasant, and left for his servant. A tiny human shaped skeleton with only a few giblets of flesh and hair remaining. It was sitting in a rather large pool of blood and the corner was stained red. Lessomm had just arrived and would immediately realize what had happened. Of course, while the act of eating a small human was quite horrid, the servant was absurdly loyal. He would understand why his master had done it, just as he understood the reason why they were to accept this job from the Spot.

The wizard sat at his table looking at the document giving the details of their assignment and planning the best course of action. It was all figured in his head by now, and he was feigning shame in his actions. He expanded his aura of influence to caress Lessomm the moment he walked into the room. The Hypnotist began to channel an emotional response of pity through a sullen voice stricken with remorse. "Lessomm, I am so sorry. I let myself lose control, give into my cursed desires. I consumed a life, their body, and left the remains in the corner."

The undead began changed the emotional response to that of sadness and began to channel it through whimpers and soft crying. It was filled with a feigned pain, but just as much twisted enjoyment from manipulation. "Please forgive me, I did not wish to do it." The fool the servant was, he likely believed the words. "I can not even stand to look in the corner. It must be gotten rid of, thrown in the river, and the mess cleaned." The fiend forced a few more painful whimpers. "You are the only thing that keeps me together. I would find some way to end my miserable existence if you were not here to redeem me."

The Eypharian was such a fool in his master's eyes. Buying his pathetic stories, believing that he wished to act good, that he did not enjoy the things he did. The meal was delicious, deceiving his servant as well, and they would soon cause misery to another innocent. Somebody only guilty of upsetting the Nitrozian family. As the job detailed, a shop would take a hit, lose some business one way or another. A shame, as Miro knew the shop's owner, a decent man. A person Lessomm would not want to see die. The plan was to convince the servant the act was just and to finish it. This was simple, destroy his goods, something Reimancy was suited for.

The most difficult part of the job would be to turn his butler into an accomplice in a malicious act. This would be accomplished by letting him play a heroic role, while the wizard would carefully cast a spell to ruin goods. Lessomm would enter the story and act friendly and interested in a purchase. He would distract the man and gain the target's favor. Meanwhile the Reimancer would be out of sight preparing a spell. As the spell is moved inside and cast, the servant would protect the shop owner and allow Miro to flee. To further stave away suspicion, Lessomm would even offer to stay and help clean.

From start to finish he knew how things should progress, but execution was never quite so simple. Especially when it came to predicting and controlling the actions of people. If things got too complicated however, a fire could be started and settle things another way. They could take the job to an extreme. Remove all threat of business and truly seem the hero saving a life and putting out a fire. But the best case scenario kept things subtle and smooth. The best results would bring the master and servant closer together, and foster a growth in their bond.

"When you are finished however, I suppose we should begin on our job." The undead's mood seemed to have lightened slightly. "You know, I am quite proud of you, always so faithful. Thank you for doing as I have asked." Again his tone darkened briefly. "And thank you thrice over for dealing with my more unfortunate qualities." Though just as quickly his emotions lifted. He almost seemed chipper. "I have decided how we shall go about our task though. I will merely cast a Reimancy spell to damage the man's goods. You will distract him and keep him from any harm. That way I can cast the spell and slip away without being seen. Afterwards you may help him clean up."

Ender gave a drawn out moan seeing the display of obvious manipulation issued by Miro. His understanding of emotion was childish at best, and his acting was not much better. To expect such a performance could work to manipulate a mind was laughable to the Irylid. "Do you really think so little of his intelligence that you would act so distraught over killing? Will he not question why you chose to eat a child, or see through your obvious acting? I am also going to assume you expect he will not question your mood swinging from depression to excitement constantly. Why should you? You can always just use Hypnotism to sell another curse story and buy more pity."

[Lessomm]

Sleep had been eluding him lately and he suffered from a headache now, the light pounding in his head keeping its steady rhythm. Lessomm sighed softly to himself as he started on the stairs that led up to his master's home. At the top he waited for a moment, composing himself and rubbing over his forehead one last time before stepping to the door and knocking. The hallway was empty as usual, people at the NHC were not eager on being seen by anyone, not even their neighbors. His white gloved knuckle rapped the door several times before he turned the handle and opened the door, stepping inside and closing it again. The first thing that was wrong wasn't the sight but the smell. Before his master's words even reached him, Lessomm had to make sure the smell didn't have him throw up. The room had a thick smell of blood hanging over it, together with flesh or meat, almost like a butchery in mid-production. As he managed to compose himself, Lessomm saw the sight and heard the words his master spoke. He rushed over to Miro to see if he was alright. His master just sat at the table, staring at the document from the Spot. "Are you alright, master?" Lessomm had never seen Miro so fragile, so... A sharp pain shot through his head, like a knife being plunged in the left side of his brain. A man sitting in a chair, his head leaning forward, blood dripping from his mouth. A child lying on a bed, the sheets stained with blood. Two older people lying on the cold stones in an alleyway, both with multiple pairs of arms. A man, pushing a knife through another man's eye as the second one screamed without sound. Lessomm jerked up and pushed the palm of his hand to his forehead, gasping for air. The pain and the images passed in that same moment. He stared down on his master, sitting at the desk, one hand pressed to his forehead. "I'll clean it up right away, master." He said as he managed to compose himself. Taking off his gloves and black swallowtail coat, Lessomm moved to the bed, putting both items down and taking off his shirt, freeing all six of his hands and arms for the gruesome work that lay ahead. The closer he got to the corner the heavier the smell of blood and meat. With one hand he pushed a piece of cloth over his mouth and nose while the other five set to work. He gathered together the loose bones and stacked them up to the side. The work was gruesome and the smell was even worse. With two pieces of cloth bound together, Lessomm fashioned himself a temporary basket and gathered together the stack of separate bones, putting them in the cloth basket. With his bloody basket he walked out the door and towards the stairs, which led down to the canal and the surrounding roads. He really hoped nobody would see all the blood and the bones. It was difficult enough to be a non human in Ravok. Being a non human with a bag of human bones in your hand was even worse. And the blood, the blood would never be washed from his hands. His fear started to bubble up, attempting to grip on his heart and courage. Together with it, however, came his Djed as well, provoked by the strong feelings of fear and worry. Through every pore of his skin, the Djed seeped out and settled on him, slipping through the tiniest of holes in the fabric of his clothes, creating a layer over them. From each pore, each hole in the fabric, the Djed formed itself and solidified into small hexagons, overlapping each other like the scales of a reptile. They moved over and under one another, in different places at first but as it spread, more and more areas became connected until his entire body was covered in one large cloak. No blood, there shouldn't be any blood on him. If only the blood wouldn't stick to him like that. It was the blood that would get him caught afterwards. No blood. As his mind raced and the stairs passed under his feet, the tapestry of overlapping hexagons solidified into a shield with a single task. Although it did nothing to prevent the blood already there from showing, the shield, fueled by the subconscious of an afraid Lessomm refused passage to any blood that was left on the bones on the cloth basket. While the bones bumped into his leg several times, the blood continued to be refused access. If he had been interested, Lessomm would have noticed how white and pristine the bones were that had passed through the tiny space between Lessomm and his newly formed shield. He had to make two more trips, each with an increasingly bloody cloth basket, as he carried down the rest of the body. The memory of the sickening crack of bones under his foot brought Lessomm's own meal to the back of his throat. The whole skeleton hadn't fit in the basket so Lessomm had made it fit. He tossed the basket and bones into the river together, after the rest of the remains, before walking back into Miro's room and locking the door behind him. With the remained of the work being scrubbing and cleaning, Lessomm was free to listen to his master as the wizard seemed to liven up a bit. Lessomm remembered the Spot job he had brought the day before and how his master had pondered over it all evening to try and find the best solution for it. He scrubbed at the blood remains on the wall with all six hands, wielding six sponges and scrubs at the same time. Somehow, the thanks his master gave him didn't seem as fulfilling as it usually did. Lessomm attributed it to the bloody mess in front of his eyes. As he worked tirelessly to clean the corner of the room, he turned his head and voiced a question. "How will you damage the goods? Burning them seems somewhat extreme yet the most efficient. I can protect him from the fire with a shield, master."

[Miro]

Finally Lessomm was free to respond of the job. He had done well enough in removing the evidence that a murder had taken place there recently, but it would forever be stained by the gruesome act. The far corner was tainted red, but the undead would simply claim that it had always been that way. Ender had been preparing himself a role in their job, but so far had yet to make any progress. He knew exactly what his master had in mind, and he knew he could be of assistance.

Miro rose from his desk and relied on Ionu's Light for support. "No, no fire, that would be dangerous. As well, no Shielding, just normal heroics. People do not trust a wizard, and if they see magic cause damage, the one who uses magic to save them will receive blame. You are to seem surprised by the act, just as he will be. Being prepared with magic to counter the effects is a little too convenient. The man is a dealer in art, all sorts of fancy pictures and crafts, things he sells for a lot of money." The Reimancer grinned and hobbled toward his wardrobe. "It will be as simple as making things a little wet and windy."

The wardrobe door creaked as it was pulled open. The wizard pulled his black cloak from inside and draped it over his body with the hood up. "You need only tackle the man to the ground and cover his body from the stormy assault. This will keep him from seeing me and pointing any fingers at the masked man in the window. Just tell him he has upset Zulrav, ask him if he's okay, try to comfort him by cleaning the place. We want to complete the task as fairly as possible. He is a good man, just trying to provide for his family. Let us not see them hurt any more than they have to be." The man hadn't a family as far as the Chained One knew, but it sold his story better. And if the man ever did catch on his chances of survival were slim.

Just as Ender had thought, he had a way to be of assistance. It was not one Miro would likely want to entertain, but an idea worth considering. At least the Familiar thought so. "Miro, would it not make more sense to simply attach me to Lessomm's arm and have me cast the spell? I am capable of water and wind both, and I am far harder to reveal than you. Your eyes are poor, you are slow, and any who see you are suspicious. I am capable with my elements to handle the job and any problems that we may encounter." Though there were a few issues with such a claim, it could work well. It could work very well, if the Irylid was a strong enough Reimancer.

"I am willing to give you a chance, but failure will not be accepted. I shall wait nearby, and if you are unable to complete the task, fire will be set to the building. You will be blamed for this, and you will accept credit." The Familiar filled with excited tension. "Very well master, I accept!" It was always unsettling to hear a Fyrdenese voice speak with such enthusiasm. "You know Lessomm, Ender has volunteered his services. You are familiar with wearing him by now, so this shall be nothing new. Remember, in this form he is silent, but he is aware. He will complete the mission, and you will only stave off suspicion and slip away."

The Irylid broke from his master's wrist and assumed his natural form temporarily to hover towards Lessomm. He floated near the man's wrist and spoke before resuming his sealed form. "I guess we're going to be partners on this one Lessomm. Let us serve our master well. I shall handle my task, and you shall handle yours." The Summon wrapped about Lessomm's wrist as an silver bracelet and became still. Mostly still that was, as the creature began to leak a white liquid and guide it up his host's clothing. The Res was cold and would likely feel unnerving moving up sleeve.

Miro stood near the door and waited for his servant to be ready to leave. "If you have any questions, ask them now, for we depart soon. Really your task is quite simple. I know this shop, and can take you there, but I will not be seen anywhere near. You only need to walk in and wait for the magic to happen. Be friendly, be helpful, be surprised, and then get out of there with my Familiar in tact. Any damage he takes, I take." The wizard shifted his tone to one more stern. "And any Djed you cast Ender, I lose. And if you harm Lessomm your punishment will be quite severe. He is a priceless asset."

[Lessomm]

Stepping back from the corner of the room, Lessomm ran one of his many wrists over his forehead, wiping away the sweat that was forming little drops there. Looking at his hands, their cleanliness eluded him as each one dripped red water and soup onto the ground. Most of the red in the corner had been removed but it was obvious that there was some stain in the corner. Lessomm sighed and put his scrubs into the bucket, where the water had run a dark red. He took a seperate, dry cloth and wiped up the red drops around him, quickly staining that cloth as well. He had torn up and used two of the nice towels he had gotten at some point for his master and had never seen use up to now. Lessomm put the bucket aside, next to the door as he listened to his master. The plan seemed easy enough yet Lessomm wasn't comfortable with it. It involved destroying a man's future because some other man didn't like him having a future. Lessomm rolled his shoulders and started to rub his hands into a somewhat clean piece of cloth, trying to rub out the blood that had stuck to his skin. Most of it seemed to come off although a few spots remained red with crusted blood. He sighed as he tossed the cloth aside, into the bucket. His clothes would cover up the rest and a good scrubbing after work would get rid of the rest, hopefully. He wrapped his arms around himself again, hugging himself close as he took his clean shirt from the bed, pulling it over four of his six arms. There was quite a bit of wriggling as Lessomm got comfortable in his shirt, listening to Miro explain the rest of the plan and then go silent for a moment. Back to having only two arms, Lessomm buttoned up his shirt and closed the collar before putting on the black swallowtail coat. He stretched his arms forward, making sure the sleeves were in place before working his way up to his collar, adjusting little bits of his outfit that felt wrong and then pulled the hem of the coat to stretch everything into place. A few brushes later his coat was dust free and ready. He turned in surprise as Miro spoke out, claiming Ender had volunteered and would go with Lessomm instead. He stared at the floating blob near his wrist, which he held out voluntarily. It hadn't been the first time Lessomm and Ender would link together physically. It had been the first time, however, that Ender had spoken to Lessomm. Any of their usual conversations involved Lessomm asking questions about Ender and Ender remaining completely silent on his wrist. After a moment of stunned silence, Lessomm composed himself and replied. "I look forward to seeing you in action. You could have told me sooner you could speak. It would have made our previous conversation less one-sided." There was no answer from Ender who had already returned to his mute state, wrapped around Lessomm's wrist, only a chilling tentacle sliding up from the wrist under Lessomm's clothing, which had the Eypharian shudder for a moment. Lessomm walked to the door, ready to leave when his master told him to ask any questions he might have. Before he could consider if the question was appropriate for their master-servant relationship, Lessomm blurted it out. "Why do we have to do this? The man has done nothing wrong to us. It doesn't seem exactly... fair to just pop in and destroy all his wares. You say he is a good man and you don't want to see him hurt and yet you're planning on destroying everything he has that could provide a future for him." He watched his master with open curiosity, trying to determine why Miro would take on a job like this while trying to keep up some appearance of being the good guy in the story. Lessomm walked into the hallway and waited for Miro to lock his room, listening to his master's answer.

[Miro]

Ender listened to the conversation, once again one sided, but noted what the man said. Before things were different, and the Irylid needed time to place Lessomm with a cleared mind. He was still unsure of how far the servant would go, or how long he would last, but so far he seemed rather dedicated. Truly a good man, just perhaps too naive for the Familiar. Often times he felt that it necessary to command and protect the servant due to this fault. His trust in Miro was exactly the kind of thing that lead him to feel this way.

However perhaps there was hope for him yet. The Eypharian had a backbone, and most of all a good heart. The poor fool, lured into a web of lies, unwilling to escape. Only able to struggle, and if the undead had any say, it would be for naught. Of course Miro did have something to say to his servant. In a voice filled with concern and annoyance both he protested. "Lessomm, already I have discussed this with you. It is not that I want to see him suffer, quite the opposite. However that job is proof that somebody does. You have said it yourself, burning the place down would be a easy and quick. Were we not to only complete the job as gently as possible, another would likely take the man's life in the process. We could very well be saving his family from losing everything!"

The wizard gave a sigh and opened the door himself. He grabbed his staff again and stepped out the door before turning. "That man has a family, and he is a fine man, but that does not mean he is without fault. The Nitrozians are business, and if you work against them, you suffer for it. He opened his shop in direct competition with a Nitrozian gallery and sells his works for cheap. And from what I have seen, some of his work looks as if it may have been inspired by his competition a bit too much. But that does not mean he should die. I believe destroying his forgeries should suffice."

That was what Miro considered the perfect excuse. Just he did not know if the man was a father, as well the wizard was taking liberties claiming forgery. And only assuming the man was a threat to business by selling his wares for cheap. But it solidified his motives as just and fair, exactly what Lessomm was looking for. "Come now, let us not waste any more time. I desperately want this deed to be done with." So the Chained One trudged onward using his staff to guide his weak leg. He left the complex and stepped out onto the docks.

When he was sure Lessomm was with him, Miro called a Ravosala. Directions were given to the shop and the fare was paid in advance. He specified not directly to the shop, but to a nearby corner. It was a short ride there, but not too short. A few chimes would pass easily. This time was taken for final instruction. "I will be nearby waiting for you two to finish. If you need anything, Ender and I can still communicate, so tell him. Stay aware of him, and remember he is not just an accessory. He is always watching, always listening, and a powerful wizard. You will be assisting him, not the other way around."

The undead pointed down the street at a store. "That is it, "Stroke of Brilliance", the one with the sign hanging. Go in and let Ender do his job. Then you just need to get away clean." He began to hobble away with haste after finishing. "Good luck." The words were spoken plainly as he slipped away. It was just Ender and Lessomm now. The Familiar began to produce liquid Res yet again and further fill the man's coat, and even his trousers. The spell he was expecting to use would require quite the amount. The difficult part would be to get the substance in place without it being detected. Especially not detected coming from the Eypharian. Ravokians could be so racist.

[Lessomm]

Lessomm considered his master's words and weighed them off. If they were true, which he believed them to be, it was true that only destroying a few paintings would satisfy the client, complete the job and keep the man alive to continue to provide for his family, in a different location, of course. If the man were to die, however, the client would still be satisfied, the job still completed but the family would be in ruins with nobody to provide for them. Lessomm sighed in turn and nodded. "I see. Just a little bit of material damage would make the client happy and keep the target alive." On the Ravosala, Lessomm sat opposite of Miro and listened to the final instructions. They were all quite obvious. The thought of Ender being but an accessory hadn't even crossed the Eypharian's mind. "Of course, master." The chimes passed on the boat ride and Lessomm looked around until they came to a halt. He got out quickly and helped his master to get out as well, all but lifting Miro out of the boat and onto the pavement. The blackness, Ink his master had named it, had spread more over Miro's body since he had met Lessomm and it had impacted Miro's ability to do daily things in life even more. With the Familiar wrapped around his wrist, Lessomm turned towards the shop and started walking as he did his best to ignore the chilling cold that spread down his coat and pants. "Ender, do mind the...." He gave a meaningful nod downwards as he looked into the bracelet on his arm. He hoped the familiar was familiar enough with humans to know what he meant. As the cold send shivers up his spine, Lessomm pushed against the door of the shop and walked in, letting the little bell chime away through the shop. Immediately, a man came out from the back and greeted Lessomm. "My master is looking for something interesting to show to his friends. He likes to show off so it should be something... shocking. He mentioned seeing your shop while passing in a Ravosala." As Lessomm spoke to the owner he walked through the shop, looking at the paintings that were hanging in the room and the framed ones that were stacked on the ground. With the hand Ender had decided to rest on, Lessomm gently touched a few frames here and there as he walked through, giving the familiar time to do what he needed to do, if he needed to do anything. "These are all very impressive. Did you paint all of these yourself?" He continued to question the shopkeeper as he made his way over to the counter. "As I said, my master enjoys to shock his friends so I'd like to commission a painting from you. Something..." Lessomm looked around at the paintings seeing several landscapes and a few portraits. "Explosive. Yes, something explosive. Dark colors with red and... Well, you're the expert. I believe it would be best if I let you decide on the details. So, something shocking and explosive. Would that be possible? Payment won't be a problem. And, of course, if it impresses his friends, I'm sure he'll inform them of your shop's location."

[Miro]

Miro was well satisfied that he had convinced Lessomm into following through with the act. It was about time that the servant just accepted that they were in Ravok and bad things happened to people sometimes. Nobody in the city was truly innocent. But for now it was out of his hands, up to Ender and Lessomm to work out. They could not even communicate properly, yet they were to work together. Hardly did the wizard believe his Familiar able to work with anybody but him.

Meanwhile, as Lessomm requested, Ender began to adjust his Res. He was not as familiar with human anatomy as he would hope, and was left unsure how to adjust his Res comfortably. He spread it across the Eypharian's concealed arms, back and chest primarily. This concealed the arms better, but made him seem far too large for his clothes. The rest of the spell's mass was sent down his legs, but with more caution in its placement. It was moved to amass at the lower parts of the legs and about his host's haunches. It would look awkward while in the form, but would not constrict movement.

As Lessomm walked toward the shop, Ender summoned a new mass Res in the form of a gas. It drew the attention of a few people who walked on without questioning it. The fog spread wide and followed the duo as they walked. When the servant made to enter the shop the Irylid created another mass of liquid Res. This mass was guided down to the ground outside of the door. The Eypharian began to leak soft white wisps of Res from his clothing that thickened the fog that followed them in. It began to condense in the darkest corners. Slowly the store was being filled as the host slimmed.

Finally a man came out to greet them, the owner Ender assumed, as he was the only other person in the place. He was a short and dirty man, slick black hair, unshaven with clothes unwashed. He looked as if he hadn't much sleep, or perhaps had been drinking. The way he walked up to the servant revealed that the owner was indeed not above being drunk when doing business. He spoke to Lessomm with slurred speech and breath strong with the stench of alcohol. "Welcome to Stroke of Brilliance, I am Braynt, h-how can I h-help you?" The man stumbled slightly before regaining his balance.

Lessomm spoke of his request, all the while losing mass, and the Irylid was nearly ready to prepare to cast his spell. He needed only gather his Res first. The way the Braynt dealt with his business was quite crude in Ender's opinion, but often did not expect much from humans. Especially those who dulled their mind with alcohol. He simply scratched his beard and spoke simple phrases of acknowledgement. "Uh huh, yahp, mhn, sure, I have just the one." The man walked over and pulled the cover off a rather large painted canvas. Mostly comprised of yellows, purples and reds, the painting was what seemed to be some sort of abstract flower.

But as the man turned back to Lessomm he noticed something odd about him. He was much smaller, and his shirt fit him strangely. He paused and scratched his beard in a blank stare. Ender finally was ready to cast his spell. All of the Res condensed on the outskirts of the small room expanded into a thick fog and began to swirl about the room. This would be Lessomm''s chance to shield the owner from harm. The spell quickly gained speed in rotation and transmutation would soon follow. The Irylid focused his mind on the spell at hand and prepared his will for a large cast.

First he began to transmute his Res into gusts of winds to further enhance the torrent, but water was quickly added. The swirling gust was now very cold and wet, and many of the paintings were being ruined. Ender focused hard on the element of wind and enhanced the strength of the current further and froze the water. It was now a powerful whirlwind of sharp icy shards that ripped canvases and threw everything about. The sound of pottery shattering was the only thing able to ring louder than the buzz of wind, and even if the residents of the room were to drop to the ground, their clothes would still be tattered slightly.

Indeed the Familiar had overdone it, and likely even hurt Lessomm and Braynt, but had competed their job without question. Though it was still left to question whether he had aroused too much suspicion and they would have trouble to deal with. It was likely that the lush of an owner would not react well and look to place blame. The servant would have to do well to earn the man's trust and seem innocent. But it was like that if the man was sober, there would not be any amount of persuasion that could get them out of this. Lessomm was the only person in the shop when the incident occurred. And in reality he was to blame, at least in part.

[Lessomm]

Lessomm was discouraged, to say the least, when he saw the man and listened to him speak. He didn't seem very interested in his business or in his client. And when he revealed the work he thought would fit a person Lessomm had just portrayed he couldn't help but smile. "This is... nice. Anything else?" He had trouble keeping the act up. The more he remained with the man the more he disliked him. He had a great dislike for people who slacked off at work because things weren't going so well in life, either business or personal. Never let it affect your professionalism. Lessomm's reply got lost in the sudden shout of surprise the man cast as the rooms grew thick with swirling fog. Lessomm turned around, following the man's pointed finger, just as surprised as he was. When it dawned on him, Lessomm did his best to remain surprised as he turned back to the man. "What is going on?!" He tried to shout over the gathering vortex of water and air but either the man hadn't heard him or he was too surprised to answer. When the wind picked up and started pulling at Lessomm's clothes, the servant got worried. When the water was added to the spell and it started splashing the Eypharian in the face he started to get irritated. It was only when Braynt got slashed by the icy shard and Lessomm felt on wizzing past his cheek, drawing a trickling of blood, that he understood the danger they both were in. Without thinking, Lessomm pushed forward towards Braynt, who was clutching the ice shard sticking out of his arm. The servant bowed low and tackled the artist of his feet, pushing his elbow in the man's stomach at the same time as he wrapped his arms around the man's waist. Knocked off his feet, Braynt's body complied with Lessomm's movement as he lifted him up from the ground and threw him over the counter only to dive over it after him. As he did more shards wizzed by and nicked the servant's skin. Lessomm cursed mentally at the wristband-familiar he was wearing. Ender had overdone it quite a bit. The sound of wind and water and things breaking continued on in the store. As one of the paintings crashed into the wall above them and covered both men in broken wood and torn canvas, Lessomm crawled over to Braynt who was crying and sobbing, his head tucked in his arms. True to his master's orders, Lessomm crawled over Braynt and covered the man's head with his own, wrapping his arms around him to protect him. More things came crashing behind the counter, hitting the servant on the head and body as they crashed down or fell down on him. In no time, Lessomm's entire body felt like one big, wet bruise. His clothes were soaked with water and he could feel the cold wind pushing against his clothes. After a while the sounds started to die down but neither Braynt nor Lessomm were too keen on having a look. When it was finally completely quiet in the room, apart from the dripping of water, Lessomm raised his head and crawled to his knees pushing away broken wood and torn canvas. His suit was covered in a variety of splattered colors and water, mixed with several drops of blood from cuts all over the two men. Lessomm's hands had cuts all over them from the shards and as he ran his hands over his face, blood stuck to them from a large cut on the side of his face. The blood seeped from it, following the scar on his face and making it's way down to his jaw. Braynt seemed a bit better off although he had scraped and bruises as well. The shop was a complete mess. Pieces of paintings and frames were everywhere. The horrible flower Braynt had offered Lessomm before was turn in pieces and spread out over the place. "What was that? What did you do?" Lessomm stared down at the artist before letting his eyes move through the room once again. There was not a painting left that was in one piece or was soaked with water, completely blurred from the paint. As he pulled himself up on the counter and got properly on his feet, Lessomm could feel the water running down his body and dripping down on the floor. "Is this how you treat all your customers?" Lessomm snapped the question at the artist, grabbing him by the shoulder and hoisting him to his feet.

[Miro]

Braynt was in shock at the entire experience. No longer sobbing, his face was blank, although still quite red. As he was forced onto his feet by the Eypharian, his face turned to horror. The owner stared at the carnage that had tore through his shop and let out a nervous laugh. "I am alive. What happened? I am alive, but..." It was starting to dawn on him what all of the damage meant. The man broke from Lessomm's grip but didn't acknowledge him. He walked over to the canvas of the flower, more abstract than ever, and fell to his knees before it.

Wild with tears and misery he began sobbing and cursing his fate. No, no, this wasn't supposed to happen. Oh gods, what have I done to earn your wrath?" There was nothing that could be done for his goods, but the loss of money would mean more than some of his work being destroyed. He turned to the only person he could find to express his dismay. His crying stopped, and the man seemed to have sobered up, though he was quite manic. Braynt grabbed Lessomm by the fore of his shirt and hissed at him. "You have to help me out here! Help me, please, they will kill me. When the Nitrozians refused to lend me money, I went to the Lazarin family. If I am late on another payment, they will take a finger. If I can't pay at all, they will kill me!"

But Ender would not hear of it. He did not care for this man or his problems. He acted as fools do and went against the Nitrozian family. Any lazy man with more debts and enemies than wit would meet the same fate. The Irylid was ready to leave this pathetic place and collect his spoils. Praise from the master would be well earned with the level of destruction wrought on the room. And best of all they were without suspicion. Though their target seemed close to snapping. But without the ability to communicate with his partner, it would be difficult to ensure their quick escape.

Ender began to produce a slight amount of Res on his host's wrist and swirl it about to gain attention. His aura of influence was concentrated on, but in his current form he hadn't much presence at all. And without the ability to speak or gesture, that left only direct eye contact. He added a slight current of icy water to the swirling Res waited for Lessomm to look down. When he would however glance at the Irylid, he would impress two suggestions. First, "Ender wants us to leave", then, "Braynt is very unstable and dangerous." He would channel an emotional response of anxiety for as long as his host would stare, and extended his Res to point a protrusion toward the door. It was all he was capable of.

[Lessomm]

Lessomm watched as the finality of it all dawned on Braynt. His shop was completely in shreds, totally wrecked by the "unknown" source. Broken jars of paints lay splattered on the ground, the paint slowly spreading in all directions, mixing with other similarly broken jars close by. Lessomm walked from behind the counter as Braynt stared at the chaos. He slowly made his way through the rubble, picking up broken frames to make his way through to the middle of the room, where he was joined by Braynt who started sobbing again. Suddenly the man was on him, his fingers gripping the front of Lessomm's shirt and pulling him closer, his alcohol breath on Lessomm's face. The Eypharian had to push strongly to get the man to back off at least enough for Lessomm to take a breath without getting drunk. "What do you want me to do? You think -I- have enough money to pay off a loan payment?" He grabbed the man's hands, hooking his thumbs behind Braynt's and turned outwards, causing the man to let go or his thumbs to break if he could take all the pain. "I'm a servant. I need to pay off my own loans. I can't help you. Unless..." Lessomm kept him at armslength and stepped back while letting him go. There was nothing he could do for the man, even if he had wanted to do something for him. He felt a cold swirly motion near his wristband and he looked down at Ender, who lay silently around his wrist. Lessomm blinked for a moment at the wristband, quietly staring at it, before he lifted his head again. It was time to leave. His master had made it clear to get out as soon as possible after the "accident". "The only thing I can do for you is to urge you on with the painting for my master. He'll pay you well if he likes it and that way you can pay off your debt as well." Lessomm brushed off dust from his outfit, which was mostly useless as it was all dust and wood splinters and paint splashes now. He turned away from the painter and walked to the door, opening it. The bell chimed softly as Lessomm turned back. "Oh, my master's name is Zulrav. I'm sure you'll be able to find him once the painting is finished." Not quite as Miro had wanted it, but it was close enough. The door closed right after Lessomm finished speaking and he turned to his right, away from the spot where he had split off from Miro. He walked quickly to the first street on his right and moved in it, taking right turns whereever possible, using back alleys and jumping over two smallers channels before reaching the place where they had stepped from the Ravosala. By now, Lessomm clothing had more or less lost it's soaked state. The paint and wood splinters remained, however. He walked over to where he had split from his master earlier. "It's done, master."