Completed A Peculiar Peer

[Keene Ward]

The first day of winter, 514 AV

He had spent the night in the Prairie under Kinapak's supervision along with the other reimancers that had had enough res and will to continue with the quelling of the fire. As the sun rose, Keene shuffled up the path towards the citadel behind a small procession of wizards and apprentices with similar skills to his own. He had learned none of their names, nor memorized any of their faces. Keene was far too tired to care much about the details of his impromptu companions, few words had been exchanged between the whole of the them together. The only true form of conversation had been with the condescending sneer of a man, Kinapak, who had claimed to be the initiate of the Prairie, and Keene's contemporary. A small sigh escaped his tired lips. From the small amount of time he'd spent with him, Keene doubted Kinapak thought of Keene in the same way. It was unfortunate that a man as useful as Kinapak was as inaccessible as he had come across. There was still too much about Sahova he didn't know; too much about the Wardens that was still a mystery. Atziri had given the impression that things would be revealed in time, but he also knew she expected him to learn what he could on his own as well. Whatever he could discover through his own, private efforts was just another thing she didn't have to elaborate on, and with the amount of time he saw her in a day, he imagined her time was better spent on whatever it was she disappeared to all day to do.

Reaching the top of the slop that led down to the Testing Grounds, Keene let his pace slow some, allowing the rest of the company to drift on ahead of him as he turned to look back down at the still smoking remains of the forest. From his vantage point, he could see there was extensive damage to the outer perimeter, but the bulk of the trees still stood, breaking up the horizon line with their jagged protrusions. Scratching at an itch on his side, Keene turned back to face the rise of the entrance to the Vestibule. With a resigned step, Keene headed under the massive arches, the sound of his footsteps echoing throughout the stone filled structure. His linen breeches had been partially singed, one of the legs now shorter than the other, and he smelled of smoke and sweat. A sorry sight, he padded his way down the lengthy hall, blinking sending darkness across his vision for longer and longer the more he walked. When the time between his eyes closing and opening became unreasonably lengthy, Keene stopped, rubbing his eyes with a sooty knuckle.

He blinked more awake, leaning on the wall that opened up into the courtyard. The familiar mists of the courtyard swirled, never quite leaving the confines of the area. Squinting, he noticed a figure moving towards him, which was an unusual trajectory as most of the residents of the island bounced between the Gug Anjdak and the Synchrography Office. As the man approached, the fog fell off of him in translucent cascades, revealing a scruffy, unkempt looking young man with an aggressive tilt to his walk. His mind lagging due to his lack of sleep, Keene's wide, appraising stare was fixed on the man as he approached. Even his blinking had slowed to the point where not a moment passed his vision was occluded.

[Derain Roas]

The swirling mists of the courtyard and the moaning spirits gave Derain a sick sort of pleasure that he did not get in the Bloodhills. It was also a pleasure for him to be walking in a thinner set of clothing then the leather armor he normally wore. He had chosen to wore a light gray linen shirt and a pair of the darkened leather pants. His low cut boots walking along the ground and kicking the dancing dust up into the air. He believed to be alone in the courtyard other then the spirits and Mistress Wanda, though he was in no hurry to find or even run into her. He had no business with the witch or the spirits that she messed with. In fact the man was searching for no one but wandering the grounds while he was here. He had returned with Lorelei to gather some supplies for their home up in the rocky hills of crimson stained earth. He enjoyed to take the time to enjoy the creepy setting of the Citadel when he came back. Bask in the glow of his home away from home away from home, granted he no long considered Zeltiva to be his home.

He walked aimlessly until he came across a figure cloaked in the mist. A humanoid outline that caused Derain to pause for a few ticks and tilt his head. He walked closer wondering who else enjoyed walking the the courtyard for no real reason. Once the man came into view he smiled and looked at the soot covered man. His pants singed and his body was darkly tinted. It was another pulser that he had only seen in passing a few times. He looked him over as the man was noticeably not all there. "You tired? I don't think here is the best place to sleep there man-child. You might get your mind stolen by a ghostie." he said as a crooked smile played on his face. Derain was not normally one to converse in big groups nor did he really choose to talk to the other pulser's or even the nuits that walked the island unless he had to. But who really would choose to talk when the lovely vixen Lorelei could do all the talking for you.

He really did enjoy the company of Lorelei or maybe he had just gotten used to her. But ether way his focus returned to the crispy man as he blinked at him. "The name is Derain by the way, I am one of the initiates to the Bloodhills. I assume you are an initiate as well. You don't really seem like the type to just sit and read all day. Though I could be wrong and you might have blown something up, judging by your appearance you were ether fighting the fires or you did what I just said." He waved his hand in the air as he stared at Keene. Wondering if he should take him somewhere safer for the guy to pass out or watch to see if the spirits bother him in his sleep. He scratched at his beard as he waited for him to reply or hit the ground.

[Keene Ward]

When the other man spoke, Keene's attention was disrupted enough for his eyelids to dart shut and reopen, allowing him to better focus on the task of conversation. What came out of his mouth, however, was a bit juxtaposed to the man's appearance. Keene's lips curved in a confused frown at his comment regarding both what Keene assumed to be the man's visual impression as well as a warning against ghosts. He knew the ethereal beings were capable of much more than one who was deceased should be able to do, but mind stealing was not something he was sure he believed. The manner of speech the man employed was enough to give Keene the impression the man was either jesting or adopting a sneering condescension; either way, Keene was far too tired and reserved to respond with anything of the like. Instead, he merely nodded in affirmation that he was, indeed, weary from the night's work and in agreement that slumber outside of the relative safety of the Quarters or his own volcanic cavern was of a questionable quality of action.

Despite his appearance and cadence, the man seemed to be one of the more friendly individuals on the island. A quick flash of Boswell's laughing face rose to the surface of his thoughts, and Keene was unable to dispel it through force of will as he usually did. There was nothing he could do to help the seemingly vanished young hunter until he had more information, or really any information at all. It was odd that the man before him now had sparked such a reflection, but Keene tried not to over analyze the situation. The Bloodhills initiate, Derain, was certainly not the gregarious hunter. He stood confidently with an easy air of detached superiority dissimilar to that of Atziri in that even Keene could tell his abilities were not on par with his personality. Having little experience with the like, Keene felt little reason to let the observation carry much weight in his opinions of his newly acquainted peer. Weakness presented itself in many different ways, but no more than so did strength. To instantly appraise one's abilities based of the juxtaposition of poise and power was more foolish than the perceived fool.

The flood of words that came from Derain's mouth required most of Keene's rather pathetic stores of attention. He squinted his eyes slightly as he listened, his frown only present due to gravity's pull. The other initiate was perceptive enough, though Keene supposed the vambraces they both wore were enough of a giveaway. Having, until recently, truly been the type to sit and read all day, as the man had put it, Keene glanced down at the growing definition of his arms, worn quality of his hands, and battered appearance of his exposed shins. He supposed he was no longer the pasty, bookworm Zeltivan he had been a season ago. His time spent roaming around the mountain's base, honing both body and mind, appeared to have been paying off on both fronts, though the prior was something he had not truly appreciated until Derain pointed it out. The soot was a heavy hint that led to the final observation verbalized, one which Keene nodded at the mention of the fire. It had been much more difficult that he had imagined, the rage of a natural fire easily rivaling that of the combined efforts of the reimancers. It was a not so subtle reminder that nature was not a force to be trifled with.

As Derain finished his lengthy introduction, Keene let a small pause pass between them, waiting to see if there were anymore words brewing behind the increasingly concerned look on the man's face. When nothing presented itself, he replied with a gravely rasp of syllables before clearing his throat and trying once more. "Keene Ward." Having only ever had to introduce himself to a number of people he could count on both hands, it was natural for him to include his last name. Realizing Derain had not done the same a bit too late, he continued on, his calm, quiet voice moving more and more steadily as his voice returned to him after the trials of the night before. "I'm the initiate of-" He paused, tilting his head slightly as his brain regurgitated something Derain had said. "One of? There are more than just one initiate of the Bloodhills?" Shaking his head, he hurried over his question. Derain had spoke his station clearly enough that Keene's inquiry was nearly rhetorical. There were most certainly two initiates of the Bloodhills, as it was what Derain has explicitly stated. He wondered if Kinapak was also one of two or more.

"I'm the initiate of Mt. Merlus, under Warden Atziri." Unsure what else to say, Keene finished with, "And I just returned from... 'fighting fires'." The idiom was given a hint of skepticism in Keene's tone, but far from the threshold of rudeness. It was a phrase he'd never heard before, but it made perfect colloquial sense. In fact, if accuracy of action was to be taking into mind, the proper idiom would have been "waging war against an impassable flaming inferno", though he supposed that was too long to serve the same purpose as "fighting fires". He gave the man another calculating stare before speaking his final question. "And are you here for supplies?" It was not uncommon for Atziri to send him back to the citadel every so often to gather the necessary items from the Synchrography Office they could not make or procure in their own biome. Judging from the man's lack of anything to carry supplies in, however, Keene postulated either Derain had arrived with his initiate parter who was now requesting or gathering the items, or the man was in the citadel on different business. Either way, Keene was curious to know what exactly was expected of the other initiates, if they were the same as he, or if each had their own specific role to play.

[Derain Roas]

The man chuckled at the sleep deprived man. He scratched his beard and looked around before back to Keene when he stopped mid sentence. "Yes there are two of us. Myself and Lorelei and we are both learning under Warden Brent" he said his eyes looking the man over. "You don't have partner? Must be nice getting all the attention and teachings" he said with a sigh and a wave of his hand. "Must get lonely, I rather enjoy Lorelei's company in the hills. Strong mage and she can sing." he mumbled under his breath before taking a step back from the man.

He watched as the man struggled with his exhaustion. He listened to the man talk, announcing to him where he was stationed and under whom and telling Derain that he was in fact correct with his assumption. He moved his neck with a loud cracking sound and sighed from relief. "Sort of kind of. Lorelei is here from some supplies. Ink and such, basics and so on. She always seems to pick up something extra that we don't need so I usually come back with her to carry it and to enjoy the change of scenery. You can only stare at red dirt and rocks for a set time before it becomes boring." he chuckled at his own little joke. "Tell me how is that volcanic rock? Comfy? Warm? Bet you don't have to deal with many wild animals or abomination." he said, not that Derain minded the killing of abominations was one of his favorite things about the job. Kicking one into the void or holding it down while Lorelei pulled open a portal, ether way it was rather enjoyable for the man who once led a boring life in the lands of Zeltiva.

His eyes traced along Keene's body before sticking to his face. It was hard to tell much about the man with the state he was in. Derain pulled his bag off of his shoulders and handed him a waterskin. "Drink, it'll help a bit." he said. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and waited for Keene to drink before he would screw the top back on place it back in his bag. He looked at Keene again once the bag was situated on his shoulders and smiled. He wondered if he could trust his fellow initiate. There was nothing that would lead him to believe he couldn't it would all be a matter if Keene would trust him. Even for his unkempt appearance there was a mind hidden behind the locks of hair. One that appreciated and even hungered for knowledge and the mountain was one of the places that Derain knew very little about. To him it did not seem like a place that many abominations or failed experiments would roam and hide the danger of the heated earth pouring from its rims or out of its sides would provoke a greater danger to them then shelter they would find from living there.

But as far as Derain was concerned no matter where the failures hid he would find them and send them into the void to be devoured by the creatures that lived inside. His mind worked over the possibilities but came up with nothing. His only choice was to rely on the man in front of him for information if he chose to give any. It would not be long before his partner came for him to drag him back to the task for which they came down here in the first place. The man clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth again and looked into the mist of the courtyard. "Do you think Wanda would get mad if I could force a spirit into the void?" he asked turning his attention back to Keene.

[Keene Ward]

Keene filled the addition of the two names away in the myriad of pockets of information that riddled his brain. He was doing a bit better on the mental front, able to think and listen at the same time. From the way Derain seemed to think Keene's training was set up, Keene doubted he had the same relationship with his own master. At the very least, he supposed they may have been receiving similar treatment, though in Derain's case he had attributed his own master's absence to his partner, Lorelei. Either way, Keene found the two of them different enough he was content to merely nod at Derain's asides. While a partner in training may have been beneficial in some ways, Keene doubted he would have learned half as much as he had the previous season. Derain seemed a much more sociable type, and while Keene did not shun social interaction, it was rarely ever something that served as a long-term benefit to his acquisition and application of knowledge. There was an exception, of course, but she was nowhere near the island nor the knowledge which it offered. He did, however, find the unknown Lorelei's musical inclination to be a surprising tidbit. He wondered if Atziri possessed any hidden talent for the arts. It was difficult to picture.

Keene's face remained stoic as Derain laughed at something he said regarding the Bloodhills. Focused on the acquisition of ink, Keene pondered what the Bloodhill Warden and his initiates might find useful about the dark stain. The addition of extraneous supplies also struck him as a peculiar waste of materials. Even on her most lengthy of lists, Atziri hardly ever required more than a full backpack's worth of items, and that was rare. The Bloodhills, however, seemed to be much more dangerous as the other initiate mentioned both wild beasts and "abominations" - the name implying all that was needed. With the presence of hostile creatures of unknown abilities and strengths, Keene was much better able to rationalize the duo's greater amount of necessary items. He'd spent the later half of the season patrolling around the mountain, and he'd only seen a handful of the strange, white birds and a few roaming Gibbat dogs.

"It's warm, yes." He offered a tired shrug, unsure of whether there were any sort of dangers he had yet to find. "I haven't, no." From the sound of things, Derian seemed quite pleased with his own monsters that Keene's lack of them did little to affect his mood. He bobbed forward, a wave of weariness pulling him towards the ground before he caught himself, blinking quickly to remind his body he was yet still awake. The other initiate extended his leather flask, ordering him to take a swig. Keene complied, careful to keep his fingers from touching Derian's as he took the leather into his own hands. Lifting it to his lips, he let the cool rush of the water run down his throat, a welcome sensation after the soot and smoke he'd been choking on the night before. Realizing he'd taken more than the single gulp from the waterskin than he'd meant to, Keene hastily returned it. Darain accepted it with a smile, recapping the lid and tucking it back into his bag.

A small frown played at the corner's of Keene's lips, but his face remained neutral for the most part. Smiles were rarely, if ever, a good sign when it came to the character of an individual. They were untrustworthy and deceptive, an emotional facade that often hid behind it a darker, malevolent ideation. It was also one of the many facial expressions Keene had a difficult time reading. Once a smile broke out over a visage, it was the same as closing and book and turning its spine to face him. It made him uncomfortable, and while he merely leaned a bit deeper into the sturdy frame of the wall, Keene felt his legs tense and his shoulders rise slightly in anticipation for whatever might come next out of the man's grin. What came was not anything Keene expected. At the question, he simply blink, his confusion relaxing his muscles.

"...what?" He stared blankly, the name "Wanda" oddly familiar. "Ah, the spiritist." Keene shook his head, "I doubt that would end well for you." While he had replied to the hypothetical question, Keene wondered at where it sprang from. Derain didn't seem the type to consort with ghost in the way Mistress Wanda did, though he supposed anything was possible. Beyond that, he wasn't aware of many other forms of magic beyond the unknown form he'd seen used in his judgment. He assumed the "void" Derain referred to was the same or similar dark world he'd seen through the portal. The beginning of the other initiate's skill set was beginning to form in Keene's mind. Perhaps he'd misjudged Derain. The creation of the portal he'd seen had been impressive even to him as a layman. He wondered what all else the man was capable of.

[Derain Roas]

Derain looked upon Keene. The man was not talkative and very withdrawn or at least that's what it seemed to him. He could not tell if that was because the man was half asleep or just did not trust the initiate. Thought Derain couldn't blame him, there weren't many people on this island who could just be trusted without knowing who they truly are or seeing what they could do. He shook his head, the smile on his face disappearing as the man answered the question that did not really need answering. The place was a volcano that he was stationed at, if it wasn't warm then it would be just another mountain. To a normal man anyway, but Derain knew that Sahova was full of secrets and those secrets were waiting to be found. But Derains focus would remain on the Bloodhills and the secrets that it held long before he would worry about the rest of the place.

Derain shook his head again and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes turning towards the place Keene had just walked from. "I believe you are right. Though I don't think voiding a spirit would do much in the ways of research anyway. Unless you could figure out a way to track it while it was in there. But who knows if that would even be possible" he said mumbling half to himself. It was an idea but a half thought out one and one that had no actual benefit to it. His gaze turned towards Keene again as he watch the man ponder over what he meant by voiding. It did not surprise him that someone outside of the Bloodhills didn't know what voiding was, or at least it seemed like he didn't know. The soot covered man was harder to read then most.

Derain sighed at this rate he had learned very little of the man except his name and where he was stationed. Only one of those was truly worth anything and even then Derain did not care. He wondered how his partner would handle the situation with her honey coated words, he wondered if she would be able to break through the shell of the untalkative man that was before him. This Keene Ward protector of hot rock and ash. Derain shook his head, his curiosity peaking about this mountain and the secrets it might hold. His eyes studied the man as he leaned against the wall to support his weight. "You seriously should go to somewhere safe and rest." he said. A mere suggestion more then a statement or order. In all truth Derain could care less if the man hit the ground there. The gods and Wanda could watch over his almost lifeless corpse as he rested and to Derain that was enough protection. He owed nothing to the man nor cared if he lived or died.

The man turned on his heels and took a few steps away from Keene. He turned back around studied him from a distance. His hands tucked away in his pockets. The singed boy in front of him did not seem like a threat from here. He was tired and slowly slipping into a resting state and his body was covered in soot and burnt in some places. He was curious if he could take advantage of the man now. Choke the lift out of him from here without getting close or maybe just slap him around a bit. Derain shook his head, it wouldn't be worth it. He wanted to know what magics the kid possessed and killing him or seeing in the state that Keene was in now would offer him little to nothing.

[Keene Ward]

The conversation seemed to end as the man offered Keene a bit of advice before stepping back towards the courtyard, stopping to turn round and give Keene a strange, pensive stare. He returned the gaze, his sedentary post against the Vestibule's wall made keeping his eyes open all the more difficult. It had been a strange exchange, the Bloodhills' initiate's gregarious beginning had faded into an introspective evaluation ending with an unspoken parting. He squinted at the fading figure as he disappeared into the mist, leaving behind not a single trace of his presence beyond the fresh memory of their meeting in Keene's sluggish mind. He pushed himself away from the wall, shaking his head to regain some semblance of alertness. For his second meeting with a Warden's initiate, Keene found neither exchange had gone very well in terms of forging any sort of an alliance or mutual beneficial relationship. It was a shame, but it seemed unavoidable.

Staggering his own way through the mists, Keene meandered through the swirling fog until he arrived at the doors to Quarters. Well aware of his aversion to the cold, he prepared himself for a nap and nothing longer. Shuffling down the hallway, Keene used the walls to keep him steady as he moved up the steps, habit directing him to his pre-Merlus chambers. The chill drifted around him, its bite paltry to his fading consciousness. Passing the doors that lined both sides of the long hallway, Keene pushed open on of the many wooden obstructions, shutting it behind him to revel in the darkness. Blindly navigating his way to the cot that lay in the middle of the ridiculously cramped quarters, Keene crumpled down on the mat, his head hitting the lumpy straw a tick before he passed into slumber. The night's efforts had finally come to collect upon Keene's taxes, and he had no strength left to resist it.

[Aoren]

Keene

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 EXP
Socialization	+1 EXP

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Derain: Bloodhills Initiate
•	Derain: Voider
•	Lorelei: Derain’s Fellow Initiate
•	Mistress Wanda: Spiritist of Sahova

Derain

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Socialization	+2 EXP
Rhetoric	+1 EXP

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Keene: Mt. Merlus Initiate
•	Keene: Not Talkative
•	Atrizi: Warden of Mt. Merlus
•	Mistress Wanda: Spiritist of Sahova

I apologize but there wasn't much that I saw to award in the way of experience or lores except for social ones. If you have any questions or concerns feel free to contact me at your earliest convenience.