Open Passing the Bad Dreams By (Open)

[Hirem]

82nd of Winter, 514 A.V.

There was a light in the darkness above.

It was a thin pinprick in an ocean of black shadows, wavering like a candle about to go out, but it was a light all the same. To his eyes, that had seen nothing but endless darkness for years on end, the pale light came very close to blinding him. His jaw slackened as he beheld it, hundreds of leagues above his head, unable to believe that it was real. For so long he had imagined what light might look like, how it might reach him down here in the depths of the earth, that he had first thought the light was just another figment of his decaying mind. One last little trick, meant to torment him as he slipped forever into insanity.

But no. The light was real. It was distant and impossibly small, but it was real. Somewhere, far up in the sky, there was a way out of this blasted cavern. And he could reach it if he managed to climb up the chain.

Taking hold of the rusted iron links with both hands, the man grit his teeth and began to haul himself out of the pit. It was slow work, for his hands were aching with pain and his skin covered with festering boils. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes, to sleep, but that would be an insult to the man that had dreamed for ages about getting out of this hellhole. How could he pray for so long for an escape from this pit, find one, and then refuse to take the chance? It was impossible for him to consider. Slowly, link by link, he ascended up the rattling chains. The walls of the pit around grew steep on all sides - if he fell, there would be nothing for him to brace his landing. If he fell, then he would be lost forever to the darkness.

I must do this, the man told himself. I have to try.

Halfway up the pit, the light still twinkling terribly far away, he felt a sudden weight get latched onto his chain, hauling him back down to the ground. Terrified, he threw himself up the links with renewed vigour, trying desperately to escape his descent. He glanced down and beheld the ghastly figure that had affixed itself to the chain: a woman, with rotting skin and worms for hair, staring back up at him with haunting green eyes. “Betrayer,” she whispered in her seductive tones, reaching out for him. “Betrayer…” Her corpse-like hand wrapped around his foot.

Letting out an alarmed shriek, he kicked down at the woman, stomping his foot into her hollow head. With just one push she released her grip on the chain and fell, tumbling back down into the pit… then was caught, the chains suddenly wrapped around her, binding her limbs together. “Betrayer,” she called out again, and he realized that the chain she had been climbing was not the same one he was on - the chains that bound her were tied to his ankles, wrists, and back. They came from him.

And from the darkness, more figures rose to join the horrifying woman. Shapes of melding shadow and twisted flesh crawled from the emptiness of the pit and became enveloped in his chains, weeping blood and calling out his name. There were Eypharians, Chaktawe, Benshira... too many faces for him to recall, too many names for him to count. The woman with the green eyes kept staring at him, murmuring his name softly, hauling herself up the chains with one split wrist. To her breast she nursed a small child, a young boy, possessed with those emerald eyes. "Father," he whined, his cheeks raw and bloody. "Father!"

He needed to get to the light to save himself from these apparitions, but it was too late. With a great cry, all the horrors reached for their bloody chains and yanked down hard, proving too great a burden for the man to handle. With one final scream of terror, he felt the chains slip from his grasp and he tumbled down, down, down into the pit.

- - -

The first hints of Syna's light were gracing Riverfall's blue sky as Hirem finally stumbled out of the Blue Bull tavern, his steps aching and his body littered with bruises. In one hand he tightly gripped a bottle of ale, half-drained. He used the other to survey the nearby buildings, trying to make sense of their wobbling structures and the churning ground beneath him. "Where...." he muttered, his mouth sluggish. "Where am I...?" His questions falling on deaf ears, the Benshira decided to just start walking in one direction until he could find the way back to his room at the Kulkukan. "It can't be too far," he reasoned with himself, nodding slowly. "Jus' a few chimes away."

He had never felt so heavy as he did right now, his legs lumbering underneath him, every jarring step another cause to wince. His feet were the only part of him that felt sensation - the rest was all numb to the cold, and he idly poked himself in the cheek to test this. Giggling, the Benshira advanced down the street with a smile on his face, eyes lidded and face burning red. "Finally figured out a way to fight the cold... good riddance Morwen!" He screamed this last part, voice echoing into the quiet city morning. "Had enough of you for a lifetime, she-benachag!" Shaking his head slowly, unaware of how he meandered from one side of the street to the other, Hirem then squinted and tried to remember why he was out here.

I was sleeping, and then... I woke up... why? And head down to the tavern... but not Alements, cause that's where Caelum is, and he'd try to fix me... and not the Rat Hole... and then I just kept getting drinks and someone punched me and... The rest made little sense to him.

"Who cares?!" He shouted aloud in Shiber, taking another swig of the ale. "I've spent too long enough trying to make sense of things. Never did me any good..." Spotting a nearby bank of snow, Hirem lunged towards it and kicked the bank apart, cackling as he did so. "Time to put aside things... and eyes! Stupid eyes, green, blue, green... never wanted them, never gonna have them!"

Ledger :

-2 GM for the gallons of ale and generous overtipping.

[Ssezzkero]

oocMind if I pop in? I can't think of anything I would want Sezkero to DO to Hirem, other than interact more with him, so I hope I'm not boring!

Thanks to the piles of snow larger than herself, she did not take her usual route to Makutsi's Tower. The climb up the second tier was grueling in the dry winter air, and the snake was honestly considering returning home and bundling up. How she would have loved to shift into her snake form and squeeze herself into the fireplace, allowing the cooling embers from this morning to heat her scales. But the Iyvess didn't doubt that her cold-blooded form could handle the harsh Riverfall winter far less than she was now. She knew that once she got to her temple, a simple dance could help pump her blood and warm her veins, but out on the street, Ker was nothing but cold and unpleasant.

Until she crossed the intersection nearest the Blue Ball. A massive draft horse crossed her path, carting along an even larger wagon filled to the brim with wood, and Sezkero stopped to look at the small establishment. The short memory of violence from last season instilled a rather heavy sense of guilt in her chest. Trying to shove the thought away, Sezkero trotted forward, crossing the intersection as quickly as possible so she didn't have to wait for any more horses. Fairly aware of where she was, Sezkero turned west again to continue towards her destination. But as she chose the road to turn down, a bout of shouting caught her attention. It was a language she didn't know, although not surprising since the snake didn't know many, it was unsettling. It was not the harmonious Kontinese or the deep flowing of Tukant. It wasn't the choppy yelling of whatever language was spoken commonly among the sailor's at the docks. Could it be the tongue of another Cyphrus dweller? The Horsemen? But no, there was too many words involved, Pavi used hands more commonly in their communication, didn't they?

Unaware that these unrecognizable words were in fact, slurred, Sezkero decided to investigate. She was fond of finding new cultures, especially in a city such as Riverfall where most everyone you met was an Akalak or their wives. An Akalak walked passed her, perfectly content with ignoring the strange shouts of language, if anything he looked as if he wanted to avoid the person. This slowed Sezkero's steps as she approached, searching the nearly empty street for the source of the yelling. Only two others, beside herself, inhabited the street. The akalak she just passed, and another...

She assumed the other cloaked figure was an Akalak by his height, although he would be on the shorter side for the race. But as the snake's choclate eyes landed on the unstable man, she immediately knew why the Akalak tried to ignore him. He was wasted. Shaking her head, the Iyvess was ready to turn around when the man kicked a snow bank rather close to her. She felt herself retract, eyes wide as the ice cracked, shifting and distributing itself across the street. Another shot of the strange language put a strand of familiarity into Kero's thoughts.

She recognized that voice!

Taking a step forward, Sezkero tried to catch sight of the man's face, but as soon as she did, a groan escaped her lips.

Hirem.

She had met the Benshira once before under far better circumstances, and although the snake knew very little about the man, she found it completely and utterly shocking that he was drunk, in the morning, yelling at nothing and no one in particular. This couldn't possibly be the same man who went out of his way for the unfortunate orphans of the city... could it?

"Hirem?" Sezkero took a step forward, moving closer but with caution. The snake was unsure what the make of this predicament and was secretly hoping that this wasn't actually the kind Benshira from earlier in the season. But the snake had so few faces to match to names, she was sure she hadn't mistaken him. "Hirem! What isss going on?"

Common | Snake-Tongue | Tukant | Thoughts | PC/NPC Talking

[Evalin]

What a night it had been, one that was so unlike many Evalin had experienced this passed season. So much had been done, many things accomplished and a certain problem taken care of. Thus it was as Evalin made her way down the streets a small smile touched her lips as she cast a sideways glance at Syna's rising.

"Not even your light may cast shadows of despair upon me. The darkness has yielded much, and the snow gleams red as you reveal the new day."

The Immortal was coming from the direction of the Alements, and in such good spirits that she did not even bother to put up her hood against the sunrise. Her hair fell in straight black locks down to the middle of her back. Black robes and cloak hid her nakedness, and thick boots crunched the snow with each step she took. Eyes as red as blood looked out at the world with a bit more humor than usual as she made her way toward the inn she called home, or now. In her hand was a staff, taller than she was and carved with intricate runes.

My master is in high spirits it seems. Tsenrika's voice echoed in Evalin's mind and almost without thinking she reached up to gently touched the icy gem that hung from her neck.

Should I not be? Things have gone remarkably well. Caelum will be please, of this I am sure.

Evalin paid little heed to the mortals around her, so occupied was she in her own thoughts that she almost missed the strange man shouting in some silly spectacle at the sun that would never answer. She would have passed him by with little notice at all, had he not decided to lunge at a bank of snow and send it's frosted make directly into her path. This action forced the Immortal to pause and take a step back or she would have been covered in the annoying white stuff of Morwen's realm.

Irritation built within the Nuit as she dusted off the front of her robes where just a few specks of white could be seen, though she could not get rid of the annoying wetness that they left behind. Turning toward Hirem Evalin only looked briefly at Sezkero as she noticed the woman's accent, before turning her full attention upon the disturbance at hand.

Stepping forward with more speed than any mortal could post of, Evalin swung her staff so that it was a near blur in the air aiming to shatter the bottle of ale or knock it from the man's hands. In either case Evalin would follow with a swift crack to the man's upper body, shoulder, head or chest wherever she could strike, before stepping back and growling, "Damned fool, be mindful of your surroundings and others."

Her teeth were pointed, canines slightly elongated as Evalin glared at Hirem, before looking at Sezkero, "You, serpent child. Know you this man? If so you do well to remove him from the streets before one less kind than I relieves him of his head."

OOCI hope you don't mind if I join
.

[Caera]

OOCHope it's okay if I jump in! The air was chilly, to be sure, but Caera knew the last vestiges of winter were slowly melting away. Here and there along the streets there were still snow banks, and when one spoke at night or early morning, their breath puffed out like little clouds in front of their face. But still, at the high points of the sun, one could almost remember what it was like to be warm. Caera had no quarrel with the cold. Having lived in Riverfall for so long, she had become used to the frigid days and bitter nights. It was simple, just haul more layers around the skin and one would be fine. The one thing she truly missed was the sea. The water was far too cold, even now, so late in the season, and while Caera did not mind more temperate waters, the waves were a little beyond her limits at this point. Early mornings when the Konti could not sleep, she would have stolen down the cliffs and taken some bells to herself before the day truly begun and her hours filled up. Now, in the chilly mornings, Caera could do nothing but toss and turn and try to get a few more moments of sleep. Eventually, she gave up, dressing herself in her simple clothes and shrugging her coat around her. Perhaps a walk and some fresh air, and at the end of it, she could reward herself with a steaming cup of herbal tea. Stepping outside, she walked along the path from her apartment, passing the gardens and looking for that new tavern, Alements. But before she could find somewhere inside, she came across a rather shocking commotion. Passing the Blue Bull would almost always show you some strange characters, but so early in the morning, this was a strange sight. An olive-skinned man, shouting in a language she could not understand, very obviously drunk. A younger woman, cautiously stepping forward. A dark-haired woman whacking the man with a stick. And despite her hackles raising when she looked at the vicious woman, Caera could not stand still when a vulnerable man was attacked. "Ai, ai!" Crying out, Caera ran between the stick-wielding woman and the drunken man. "No, no more," she said in Common. Her skill in the language was not great, but from the few Common-speaking customers she had healed in her time, she had picked up some key words. Running her hands over his shoulder and chest, her gnosis mark gleaming in the rising sun, she asked the drunkard: "Okay? Pain?" Hopefully her message would come across.

[Hirem]

OOCI can safely say I did not expect this many people to join in! All of you are welcome, of course.

Hirem kicked at the snow bank, and kicked it and kicked it again, pulverizing the much-hated snow with furious stomps. His toes swiftly grew cold from the exercise, but he did not care continuing to shout and swear at the inanimate mound. Throughout it all, his teeth were grit together and his grip around the bottle's neck came very close to breaking the glass, his sense of judgement clouded by an unstoppable storm of rage. He knew that he looked quite the fool to any Rivarian that might be watching, but he was too drunk to care. Emotions surged through his mind, at times lazily streaming by and at others crashing against his thoughts like a tidal wave; they were impossible to ignore, and he did not have the good sense to try and shut them out. He was sad, frustrated, guilty, regretful, confused, dismayed, panicked... more than anything else, Hirem was angry. He kicked at the snow bank like it was the source of his problems, crushing it underfoot with a savage glint in his eyes. In his mind's eye, it was not snow laying on the ground before him but himself, a bruised young man with hands built for destruction and a heart filled with arrogance. Hirem relished the chance to inflict torment on that younger version of himself. "You stupid bastard," he hissed in Shiber. "You stupid petching bastard. You left her behind - you pushed her away! - and now she's gone. You walked away... ran away... hid away... stupid bastard..."

"Hirem?" a woman suddenly crowed, giving the Benshira a start. His foot, halfway through a kick, hit the ground and slid, nearly making Hirem collapse to his knees. Wobbling unsteadily, he managed to find an awkward balance and slumped forward, shaking his head clear of the anger that had just consumed him. "Who...?" He asked, trying to understand who the woman that had just arrived to the scene was. His eyes narrowed, and his head rolled to the side, wheels turning slowly in his mind. Then, crying out in delight, Hirem took a few unsteady steps forward, only narrowing managing to keep on his feet. "Keeeeeero!" He drawled, waving at her with a limp arm. "How are you doing, my friend? Good? How are the children?" Hirem cast his eyes about the street, expecting to see his small friends clustered about the nearby alley. "If they're hiding, that's a good idea. It's bad to be out here with the Kuvay'Nassss," he exclaimed, drawing out the "s" like Sezkero would. Giggling, the Benshira continued to kick idly at the snow, sending powder spraying in all directions. "There's nothing going on, azari, nothing at all. Just heading back home. It's all okay." He gave her a sheepish smile, and would have continued speaking, had the bottle of ale not exploded in his hands.

Yowling in pain, Hirem looked dumbfounded at the shards of glass now sprinkling to the ground, and at the blood now forming on his hand after the bottle's shrapnel cut him. Just as he was processing this, another sharp blow from his wooden assailant struck him on the head, rattling him sharply. Taken completely aback, the Benshira stepped back and slipped, only just managing to catch himself before tumbling to the ground. The words, "Damned fool, be mindful of your surroundings and others," floated through his mind airily, not quite understood in the daze of being attacked. Blinking rapidly, Hirem stared at the woman that had attacked him, the details blurring together and creating an extremely vague picture. She was holding a staff... and dark all a round, dark hair and dark clothes and dark everything, wearing a shadow that had pulled itself free of the sun's glare. And from that darkness came...

Two scarlet eyes.

From the shadows they emerge, hungering for my flesh, blood dripping on the walls of the cavern. They come with glittering steel and gleaming flesh and bright eyes of blood, calling out my name...

"Stay back!" The Benshira cried in Shiber, holding his hands up before the demon in front of him. "Stay back!"

Fortunately, Hirem did not have to stand alone against the demon, for a new figure jumped onto the scene: a Konti, with hair of pale gold and hands of healing. Gratefully falling behind this arrival, the Benshira continued to guard his head warily, his breath strained and panicked. The sound of monstrous screams in his ears made it difficult for him to understand what was going on around. But he did have one question... ignoring the Konti's questions, Hirem glanced up at the nearby Sezkero, wincing. "She... she called you serpent child! What does that mean? Kero, what does that mean? Are you one of them?" Growling at this perceived betrayal, the Benshira backed away from all three women, blood pooling from the cut on his hand. "I'm... I'm fine," he slurred to the Konti, shaking his head and waving her away. "Stay back! Please, stay back! You don't want to be around me!" His voice was strangled by despair, making every word sound choked and barely discernible. Inside his mind, Hirem was racing. Tensing, the man's fists clenched as he stared at each woman, one after another. Sezkero, who was on his side but was called out by the demon as a "serpent child". The Konti, trying desperately to help, but unknown in all other respects. And finally, the demon, with those red eyes and imperious stare, reeking of malice.

Taking a deep breath, Hirem advanced forward, offering his wrists meekly to the demon. "I know you've come for me," he breathed, reeking of alcohol. "I know you're here to take me back. And I know I have to go, because I haven't really left, but..." The Benshira shook his head, pressing his fingers deep into his temples. "This is my home now. I love it here. There are friends and children and people here I love! Please don't take me away." There was no bargaining with a demon, he kew, but at most he had to try. "There's so much I have to fix. I have to help Kava-Kava..." he stuttered through the name, barely able to breathe. "She needs my help! The children need my help! My son..."

"My son..."

Hirem sank to his knees. "Gods," he hissed, burying his fingers into the snow and shutting his eyes to the terrible world around. "Oh gods... I have a son. I have a son. I have a son." Repeating the words to himself over and over, the Benshira rocked back and forth on the ground, on the verge of tears.

[Ssezzkero]

"Keeeeeero!" She should have turned around. The snake knew that she didn't know the Benshira well enough for her to feel guilty for leaving him alone in this state, but his sudden exclamation of her name filled her with nothing but dread. He could barely complete a semi-circle as he waved, which froze Sezkero in her tracks. Would she help if she tried to steady him, or did she dare go near him at all in this state. "How are you doing, my friend? Good? How are the children?"

"Hirem!" She snapped at the mention of the urchins. They would benefit nothing from him in this stage, and she thought it best to keep them out of his intoxicated thoughts. Gods only knew what such a touchy subject would do to him.

"If they're hiding, that's a good idea. It's bad to be out here with the Kuvay'Nassss," This forced her forward, and she reached up to wave in front of his face. On any normal sized person, she would have attempted to cover their mouths, but Hirem had over a foot on her, so at best she could only tap his chin if she tried. A glare shot from her eyes as she recognized his mocking... or maybe he was drunk and she was now paranoid.

"Caiyha'sss rage, Hirem! Sshhut up!" The small Iyvess hissed at the man before her, her eyes landed dreadfully on an approaching Konti from the opposite direction. She was no Akalak, but the snake knew the races' familiarity with each other, and so it was no safer just the same. A mention of the children would be far too risky.

"There's nothing going on, azari, nothing at all. Just heading back home. It's all okay." She was about to disagree with him, stepping back for a moment. He was still kicking the snow bank and covering her in the icy white powder, when the shattering of the glass in his hand surprised both of them. A yelp burst from the snake's lips, and her feet propelled her back as best she could. Every inch of her body was tense when she focused on the new threat.

"Damned fool, be mindful of your surroundings and others." Desipte the words, describing this voice as motherly would be everything but accurate. The cold, emotionless tone that accompanied the words sent chills down her spine. Even bundled in her wool cloak and with her warm blood pumping through her veins to keep her warm, the gooseskin did not vacate her spine as she watched the woman ruthlessly beat Hirem in horror. Although Kero did not have a chance to assess the woman, she did not immediately pose a physical threat, making such an attack frightening. Anger welled inside her. She was sure, for any other stranger, this paralysis would be caused by fear. Another step back, this time voluntarily, brought the women's attention upon herself. "You, serpent child. Know you this man? If so you do well to remove him from the streets before one less kind than I relieves him of his head."

Sezkero recoiled, much resembling her snake form, which only served to confirm the woman's name-calling. Whether she watched to lung and tear at the woman's face for such random violence or bolt in the other direction, the snake was unsure. But she knew that violence would do nothing. Even against someone who was not nearly as terrifying as the woman before her. Un-clenching her fists, she ground her jaw and took a breathe. "Yessss, I am hisss friend." Before you so ruthlessly beat him, I was going to help him. Her tongue begged to speak her mind, but her gooseskin had not yet relaxed. Something about this woman made every cell in her body scream to run or attack. Although she was captured in her human form, she'd never felt more animalistic reflexes in her life.

Her tongue wished to say her thoughts, but her brain struggled to word them in a kinder way, one that would not provoke violence from herself or the crimson eyed woman before her. But Hirem had listened to the woman's words more carefully than she did. "She... she called you serpent child! What does that mean? Kero, what does that mean? Are you one of them?" Her head swung inhumanly fast toward Hirem, her mouth forming an 'O' in response.

No! At the time, she didn't register the weight of what the woman calling her serpant-child might mean, but even Hirem's drunk brain had put two and two together. She was not careful enough. She had to deny it. But again, she could not speak. The Konti she had seen approaching now ran to them. Her only worry was Hirem at the moment, and her common was broken, but her message was clear. Kero's eyes flew to the woman's outstretched wrist where a swirling gnosis glowed. Her mind quickly allowed her to put two and two together... this woman was a healer. But Hirem was denying help.

"Yesss, he needsss help. Pleassse."Jumping on the chance to rid herself of the red eyed woman's attention, Sezkero sidestepped her to grab Hirem's forearm, using her Iyvess strength to present it to the Konti. With the other hand, she spread across his back, trying to shove him back towards the healer. But the Benshira was speaking nonsense. "Hirem?" She pleaded, when he struggled on a word. She was hardly listening to his words. Panicked eyes shot from the konti to the terrifying woman who watched the crazy scene cynically. She didn't dare speak a word to the woman, but as wide brown eyes grazed the woman's pale features, she questioned if the stranger was even alive.

"Hirem, pleassse, relax. Calm down." Her eyebrows creased at his mention of a son. She hardly knew anything about the man, but for some reason, this information was not beleivable. She would not have met him the way she did, or at all even, if he did have a son. He's not making anymore sense. She rationalized with herself. "You aren't making any sssenssse Hirem. You need to ressst, you are getting to worked up. Calm down, pleassse." She pleaded with the hysterical man. Intoxicated, terrified and tired, she expected nothing less, but somehow hoped he would have reacted better.

"Help him. Pleassse." She focused on the Konti, hoping that her severed communication in common was due to Tukant and not some other language.

Common | Snake-Tongue | Tukant | Thoughts | PC/NPC Talking

[Evalin]

So it seemed the flies would swarm when the sent of dung and rot was in the air, such as what happened now when this filth presented such a display in the streets. They seemed to keep coming as, once again, another body felt the need to shove its way into her path and make her presence known. Evalin's eyes traveled down the Konti's body as she knelt beside the fallen man, broken common adding a somewhat exotic feel to her despite being in a city where exotic was quite common. Pale blond hair brought accent to the softness of her skin, accented by scales as they were, and the more Evalin looked the deeper that craving filled her mind. Konti were, after all, a rare delicacy. Their blood was certainly unlike any other.

But again the foolish boy went about raving in madness and drink as he prostrated himself before her, some words of nonsense escaping alcohol scented breath that made the Immortal wrinkle her nose in distaste. However, during all of this the nuit's eyes looked past Hirem, instead focusing upon the serpent that claimed a relation with him. Was she friend? Lover? Truly did it even matter?

The streets in the coming daylight are not the best place to let spill the blood of innocents. Tsenrika's voice wove its way into Evalin's consciousness, though it did not serve to distract the Immortal who had become quote fixated on the woman known as Kerol? What an odd name.

If not now, Evalin replied within her mind, glancing down at Hirem as he fell to his knees, then when? See I no reason not to take what I desire that is right before my own eyes...

Evalin could almost feel the serpent's tension as she looked over her, and it brought a small smile to the undead's lips. Coming closer Evalin knelt down and grasped Hirem by his chin, turning his face so that he looked at her. The Immortal glared into the man's eyes, taking time to appear as if she were in thought before smiling broader and releasing him, "Pathetic... As you are now it would be greater torture to let you live to see your son than to remove you from this world. Worry you not child I will not take you this day."

Standing Evalin glanced absently at the Konti before turning her full attention back to Sezkero. Now completely ignoring Hirem Evalin came around the useless obstacle and closer to the Iyvess, leaning down and tilting her head to examine her curiously, "Tell me child, are you from the Queen's court in Zinrah? Know I many faces in that foul land, but you I recognize not." Her expression soured somewhat as she straightened and leaned on her staff, "Though if you were, then I would find myself most perturbed for the whole of your nest should have died by now. But it matters not, for eventually I will return to finish what was started." blinking slowly Evalin caught herself before she drifted too far into absent thought and sneered, showing her pointed teeth, "What is your name?"
.

[Caera]

OOCI am going to Singapore for four days. I will try to respond in that time but cannot promise anything! Caera carefully stood by, letting the agitated man shoo her away. Though she ached to put her hands on him and heal the bruises the cruel woman had left on his skin, she knew that in this state, she might cause more harm: who knew what the drunkard might do? "Yes," she said slowly, enunciating her words. "I stay back. I stay. Careful." She held her hands in front of her, a pacifying gesture. Though he did not want her help, she could not, in good conscience, leave him be. Though the one he called 'Kero' seemed to care for him, there was a strange chill about the pale one, and Caera could barely stand to look at her red eyes. There was nothing healthy about this woman. Nothing. And that put Caera on edge. But when he offered himself to the stranger, and sunk to the ground, tears in his eyes, Caera could not stand by. Sinking to the ground with him, she shrugged off her coat and settled it around the man's shoulders, ignoring the sudden chill. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she could sense the tension in the small of his back and his shoulders as he was hunched over, and felt that own region on her body starting to heat up, but now was not the time to focus on that. Caera looked up at the woman who spoke to her, nodding carefully. A smile broke out on her face when the woman spoke Tukant to her, and she responded in kind, not sure if the man would understand. "Yes, of course I will help, of course. It is what I am here for. Do you know why he is in such a state? Perhaps we should move him, before more evil comes to him," here, her eyes flickered to the pale red-eyed woman, "or before he catches a cold." And the pale one suddenly leaned in and spoke to the man. Her tongue was too elegant for Caera to understand, but she caught certain words, and she knew her intent could not be good. And while Caera was afraid and wished to run, she knew she had a duty to this man. "No," she said in Common, her voice wavering but brave. "No touch. No. I stop you." Her eyes were cold and fierce, a strange look for the gentle Konti, but the pale woman turned to this 'Kero'. Caera took the chance here to quickly assess the damage to the man. He had a shallow bleeding cut on his palm, and bruises on his forehead. Caera would bet, too, that with all the alcohol he had imbued, he would have a painful headache. Talking quietly in broken Common to the man, she offered her help. "Your hand. Not bad. Not many blood. Also forehead, bruised, will hurt more later. And the drink. Hurt head, yes?" She waited for confirmation, perhaps for the man to tell her of any other injuries she could not see, before offering forward her hand, with the shimmering mark of Rak'keli. "I fix. See? I heal." She was smiling gently, but then the cold one spoke to the helper of the man. She understood few words, but some stood out, some that were the same in every language: Zinrah. Caera said nothing, but her countenance stiffened, and everyone could see she regarded the other women with strained eye.

[Hirem]

Hirem had no idea what to expect from the demon woman.

The Benshira told many stories about such creatures, too many to keep track of. There were demons that hunted through the desert nights and searched for blood, falling upon unwary travelers and tearing them apart limb from limb; there were demons that appeared as sparkling freshwater oases or charming wilderness explorers, mirages meant to lead the unwary to their death. There were demons that stole souls, slaked lust, bartered for power with overgiven mages. Some stories called mages themselves demons, monsters that were once men that possessed unfathomable gifts and terrible madness. Hirem had lived with these stories all of his life and knew that some of them were nothing more than fancy… others were true, as he had seen for himself in Hai. But never before had he experienced a woman quite like the one he faced now, whose very presence made his skin crawl and eyes water. Surely she must be a demon, for she’s far too scary to be human. The red eyes, impenetrable darkness, faint smell of rot… if he was not facing a demon, then Hirem shuddering at the thought of what she could be. While woman stared down at him, he was squealing, his cracking voice contorted into an expression of pure terror. ”I have a son,” he continued to repeat, his maddening mantra. ”I have a son.”

”No touch. No. I stop you,” The Konti was saying, and while Hirem would have wanted nothing more than to have the woman come to his aid, the demon did not seem to be paying much heed. Indeed, the she-devil just kept staring him in the eye, grabbing him by the chin to get a better look. Into those red orbs Hirem stared, knowing that his death was upon him. And then, just when he thought she might spread her cloak wide and swallow him up in the darkness, the demon scoffed and backed away, releasing her chill grip on his chin. Finally breathing for the first time in what seemed like forever, the Benshira collapsed on the street. Pathetic, the woman declared, sentencing him with her imperious voice. ”As you are now it would be greater torture to let you live to see your son than to remove you from this world. Worry you not child I will not take you this day.” Just like that, she was gone, relinquishing him from her horrible presence.

Hirem wept.

He wept through the demon turning to face his friend Kero, wept as the demon prodded Kero with questions. It was not loud weeping and it was not distracting weeping, but it pained him more than if a knife had been slid between his ribs. His whole face felt on fire and he wanted nothing more than to be free of his burning skin. Hirem was only dimly aware of the Konti coming to his aid, examining him for injuries.”I have a son,” he kept saying, over and over again, his voice growing hard to hear thanks to the choking sobs. ”I have a son.” Eyes alight with terror, the Benshira put both hands to his face and beat them into his forehead, hoping that he might knock the truth from his earlobes. ”I have a son!” Eventually he started watching the Konti’s lips move, unaware that she had been speaking for quite some time beforehand, the words fuzzy to his buzzing ears. His temples were pounding, as if his heart had migrated north and was threatening to explode out from the skull. Finally, he was aware of one thing the Konti said: ”I fix. See? I heal.” She proffered her hand, upon which glowed the mark of Rak’keli.

The Benshira knew that he needed fixing. Letting out one last, pained sob, he reached out and took her hand.

Instantly, he felt the effects of the goddess’ healing touch. Groaning, Hirem closed his eyes and bowed his head, letting the Konti healer do her work as his body was put back to normal. The shallow cut on his hand was instantly sealed shut, leaving it intact if bloody all over. The concussion he had suffered after getting struck by the wooden staff seemed to fade, leaving only an angry echo of where it once remained. Slowly, his mind pieced itself back into a working order, his skin growing increasingly flush and sticky as the alcohol was burned out of his system. Panting through it all, the Benshira’s grip grew ever tighter around the Konti’s hand. He held onto her for dear life, muttering nonsense under his breath, feeling the daze he had been stuck in for the past few bells wear off and leaving a very nasty hangover in its stead. Eventually when he could take no more, Hirem broke the contact, every part of him sweating profusely. The man collapsed back onto his hands, giving the Konti a quiet glance. ”Thank you,” he murmured, wincing through the pain.

He stayed on the ground for a few moments, taking the time to collect his breath and scattered thoughts. When he was ready to face the world, Hirem slowly pushed himself to his feet, cheeks burning red and his eyes filled with sorrow. He first gazed over at the Konti, and tried to offer her a grateful smile that came out more as a grimace. ”Thank you,” he repeated insistently. ”I was… I was being quite the fool.” There was confusion in the woman’s eye – he figured that she had little experience with Common – so he placed his hand on her shoulder and nodded. ”You saved me.” From more than just making an ass out of myself. If I had spent any longer in that condition, I might have done something I’d regret… or I might not have lived to regret it. He might have continued impressing his gratitude upon the healer had he not noticed Kero getting accosted by the unknown woman, the ‘demon’ that had struck him fiercely with her staff.

Frowning, Hirem approached the pair, wincing with every step. Rak’keli had fixed a number of his ailments, but apparently his hangover was beyond the Konti’s skill. Regardless of the pain, the Benshira muscled his way into the conversation, standing beside Kero and staring down at the red-eyed woman. That same disquieting aura continued to radiate from the cloaked figure, but Hirem was finding courage in his renewed condition. ”My friend is not from a foul land,” he began, recalling the hazy words that had been spoken during his breakdown, ”and you won’t be seeing anyone dead today ” His words were simple, and his face in constant agony, but he stood his ground nonetheless and waited for the woman’s response.

[Ssezzkero]

Don't look at me. Don't look at me. Gods, no, turn away. Sezkero protested the attention of the witch before her. Where her fingers had guided Hirem, now they twisted the Benshira's cloak between white knuckles, fear not allowing her to relax her hold on the man. But the red eyes came closer still. There was something about this woman that unnerved Sezkero in a way that she could not explain. It wasn't the faint smell of death heavily covered by perfume or her sickly pale skin that seemed as if it wasn't quite attached... like a mask. A mask to contain what Sezkero could only imagine was a true and twisted soul inside. But what unsettled the snake the most was the undivided attention. She didn't want this stranger, who already knew too much, to look at her. With a glance, she had uncovered her as an Iyvess, what could she possibly reveal from words?

Nothing good.

"Tell me child, are you from the Queen's court in Zinrah? Know I many faces in that foul land, but you I recognize not." Sezkero's thoughts were suddenly redirected. She remembered how this woman had immediately known of her origins, but now the red-eyed demon only confused her. A Queen's court? Rigid features only barely allowed her brows to furrow as she tried to put sense to the phrase.

"I am under no Queen." She growled to the woman, but as she processed the rest of the woman's question, realization hit. Zinrah. Zinrah was one of the few places her mother had taught her about, and it was a place she was to avoid like a plague, with much the rest of Falyndar, actually. Zinrah was home of Dhani, of which her race had once been apart of. But she was not Dhani, she had no connection to the land-dwelling snakes of the jungles, nor did she wish to. With this realization came a sense of relief. This scarlett eyed witch had not in fact revealed her as a Iyvess. To deny her accusations would be easy, as she honestly had little to no clue what the woman spoke of. "I am under no Queen." The snake repeated, taking a gulp for a brief moment. "I am no ssserpant child, either, you witch."

The snake couldn't help but wince at her own accent before the woman stood, allowing her space to breathe, but continued talking. It was impossible for her to move her tongue in a way that didn't reveal the 'S', without ridding her vocabulary of the letter all together. Maybe it was years of being a snake or the fact that not everything about her humanoid form as quite human-like, but she simply could not help it, no matter how hard she wished she could."Though if you were, then I would find myself most perturbed for the whole of your nest should have died by now. But it matters not, for eventually I will return to finish what was started."

The snake's jaw hardened. Was this woman the reason she could never find any of her kind? Was this woman the reason she was seemingly alone in this world? She couldn't be, Zydrunas was proof that she was not alone. As much as she protested violence, the Iyvess seriously considered leaping for the woman's throat. In the snakes mind, the woman stood no chance against her, even with her cane. And Sezkero was easily five times older than this woman who looked to be a human in her mid twenties at most. But as Sezkero tried to dismiss this unsettling thought, comforting herself with the assumed knowledge of the greator hand, Hirem had moved. Suddenly aware of her grip on the Benshira's coat, she relaxed her fingers, stiff now from the cold and the strain. Tucking them back into her cloak, she stepped back.

Instead of answering the witch, Sezkero glared at her, fists balling inside her cloak, out of sight. The snake was not one for confrontation, but she would have liked to let loose some foul words for the crimson-eyed demon. Hirem, on the other hand, had more bravery than the tiny Iyvess. "My friend is not from a foul land," Sezkero turned to the healer, appalled by how well her gnosis had worked on her friend. "And you won’t be seeing anyone dead today" Sezkero was shocked ot see the previously intoxicated and incapable man, crying over his son, was now returned to what Sezkero assumed was his natural self in nearly a minute. Gods, don't provoke her, Hirem. The snake wanted to tell the man. Instead, she took two steps back so she was shoulder to shoulder with the Konti. The snake felt as if she didn't want to leave the woman alone, and she couldn't afford a whisper of thanks at the moment, with tension hung in the air. Ker feared that if she spoke, the glass would break and the witch would attack with the same random ruthlessness as she introduced herself with.

Common | Snake-Tongue | Tukant | Thoughts | PC/NPC Talking