Difference between revisions of "DKDragons/SessionThree"

Revision as of 04:25, 10 May 2009

19:20 [ST] Later that evening, while Mnemon Talek is off summoning a demon and V'Neef Jorj is off raising hell of an entirely different sort, Kalan receives a summons to the personal quarters of Ragara Garm. He and Cynis Matara arrive at almost the same time, standing before the door to Garm's chambers. While the door frame is elaborately worked, the door itself is of stout wood, an obvious Second Age replacement.

19:25 [Kalan] Kalan stands by the door with military straightness. He glances at the Cynis beside him as she arrives, and his lips thin. He can guess what this is about. He pushes the door open. "After you," he says with a polite half-bow. The glossiness to his eyes and the careful precision of his speech is the only evidence that he has spent the interval drinking.

19:26 [ST] Matara wrinkles her nose a bit, but doesn't protest, remembering the earlier incident. She shoulders past, entering the room. Its decoration is spartan, and the chairs that Ragara gestures too wordlessly have only small, flat cushions.

19:26 [ST] He seats himself opposite the two of you, regarding you with his single eye.

19:26 [Kalan] He smells slightly of spiced wine, and Zip hovers at his shoulder, the erratic bodding of its hover suggesting it, too, had managed to imbide.

19:27 [ST] "Avaku has business elsewhere. Couldn't find the other two. One of you is a mouse, and the other one is drunk. I've got half the limbs I should. This is a hell of a start."

19:28 [ST] His gaze shifts to Kalan. "And I hear there was a... disturbance between you and Mnemon Talek."

19:29 [Kalan] Kalan sits rigidly. "The more difficult the beginning, the more heroic the outcome," he says, so flat and cool it is almost possible to believe his sincerity. "There was."

19:31 [ST] "It concerns me. Explain."

19:36 [Kalan] A muscle works in Kalan's jaw. "There was a dispute. The Mnemon cast certain slurs against character which demanded satisfaction." He shrugs, a slight movement of the shoulders. "So I attempted to draw it from his flesh."

19:37 [ST] "And what prompted these insults? Surely a man such as yourself..." He doesn't make it sound sarcastic, but it probably is.

19:42 [Kalan] "The Mnemon wished to take certain samples from the book. I objected." The Cathak sounds indifferent to the whole affair, but he can't conceal the tension thrumming in his body. His fingers twitch. It was bad enough for half his House to know why he was on this misbegotten excuse for a hunt; he could not bear the whole world to know. He meets Garm's gaze, eyes hooded.

19:43 [ST] "Samples?" The old Dragonblooded's bushy eyebrow rises. "To what ends? His own sorcerous study?"

19:44 [Kalan] "I believe he intends to send a page to the Heptagram, and another to Mnemon." Kalan doesn't bother to conceal his distate for either party.

19:47 [ST] "Mnemon... that bitch will be the death of us all. Wish her mother would come back and give her the spanking she deserves." He scratches at his temple with his false hand. "And the Heptagram... damn fools would probably try to understand how to cast the spell, not just destroy it. No, he'll get no samples from me, rest assured."

19:49 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan raises his brows. "He already has."

19:51 [Kalan] "As he is a sorcerer, he already have transmitted them." Kalan makes a motion as though it were no further concern of his.

19:52 [ST] "Then. They will be. Retrieved." His face grows stony and brooding. "I may require some assistance, but if I can face Anathema, I think I can handle a whelp like that one..." Abruptly he switches subjects. "The things the Realm has sent me. Useless, all of you. And me... I was pulled from retirement for this. Looks like they could have found someone who still wanted to put up with this incompetance."

19:54 [Kalan] Kalan's eyes are hard. "We will do our duty."

19:55 [ST] "Is that why you're here, then? Your own decision?"

20:00 [Kalan] In a manner of speaking. He had also been offered a meeting with an executioner. It was intolerable to be questioned in this manner. He lifts an eyebrow and answers coldly, "Certainly, my own decision. The Hunt only accepts volunteers, does it not? Broken old men and sorcerers are like. One can only applaud the egalitarianism." His smile is a flash of sharp teeth. Zip bobs up and down nervously, and scattered candlewicks spark into flame.

20:03 [ST] "It does indeed. At least you've killed an Anathema before. That changes a man, or makes one. The first time." He flexes a hand. "After that, it starts to unmake him. And what about you?" He turns to Matara, who merely looks at her lap. "You're the most cowardly Dragonblooded I've ever seen. I don't doubt you fear your own shadow."

20:03 [ST] She says nothing.

20:08 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan glances at her. She hadn't been so silent aboard the airship. He wondered what seeing her brother broken body strewn about the room had done to her. Nothing good. "She will do her part," Kalan says abruptly. "She will have no choice."

20:13 [ST] "None of us do," Garm replies. "That's what this meeting is about... not just a scolding. I've received a message from Prince Sajet. He has received a diplomatic messenger... from the Mask of Winters."

20:15 [Kalan] "Diplomacy. He practices diplomacy now." Kalan amuses himself with images of the wolf whispering soft words to the red-haired peasant girl. "Come to sample the wine, has he? What does he have to say?"

20:19 [ST] "That is what I want you to find out. The envoy arrived by sea only hours ago, but did so openly, and has received diplomatic protection... including a healthy guard at all times. I want the two of you to go to the palace and find out what the Mask wants. There is to be a meal in honor of the visit in about an hour. You will be there."

20:20 [ST] His gaze narrows. "I don't have to tell you not to reveal our weakness, or to provoke an incident, but I will anyway."

20:23 [Kalan] Kalan smiles at him acidly. "Certainly not, sir." He wishes briefly for a wine glass to salute him with, and settles instead a flick of the fingers. He stands. "If there's nothing else, we will hasten to change our garb." There was an unfortunate purple blotch on the Cathak's sleeve.

20:24 [ST] "Nothing else," Garm concludes, nodding as Matara also rises. "Write up a report when you return."

20:27 [Kalan] Kalan gives him a stiff nod, and strides from the room.

----

20:30 [ST] The Palace Sublime of the Honored Prince has four tall, needlelike towers at each of its corners and a cluster of golden onion domes at its center. It is a riot of color and light, especially tonight, with colored lanterns bobbing in the arched windows. A feast is in progress, and the sounds can be heard as the Dragonbloods ride down the broad avenue towards the palace.

20:34 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan is resplendent and stern in his dress uniform. He wears white, red, and gold under the red jade of his armor, and his direspear glitters, Zip hiding himself in a flame at its tip. He glances at his companion, silent as the grave. He did not expect her to be of much use.

20:35 [ST] Cynis Matara has swept her short, green hair up and pinned it with a jade skewer. Her dress is modest, but elegantly worked, with long sleeves and a set of leggings tucked into high boots. Not the usual Cynis ensemble, by any means. A short, curved blade is at her hip, more for show than anything else.

20:35 [ST] "They've already started." She says blandly.

20:38 [Kalan] "Come now," Kalan answers. "No party is truly started until the Cynis arrive; isn't that what they say?" It was an interesting reflection on the respect this Hunt recieved, granted; or rather the lack of it. None of the Cathak satraps would have dared even recieve the envoy.

20:39 [ST] "I'm sure plenty of them are already there," she says quietly, handing off her horse to a groom as she dismounts. "The mortal ones, anyway. The Satrap doesn't reside here; most of the time there's so little trouble that mortal dynasts are allowed to pass on the commands to Prince Sajet."

20:40 [ST] If she should feel badly about dispensing this bit of knowledge about her House, she doesn't show it.

20:42 [Kalan] Kalan grunts in answer. It seemed sloppy to him, but the Cynis had been successful nevertheless, somehow. He alights easily and offers her his arm, beckoning with the other to the light and laughter of the feast. "Shall we?"

20:43 [ST] She takes Kalan's arm with a certain mechanical forebearance. "Yes."

20:44 [ST] The Palace is rather poorly designed, and thus the Dragonblooded are forced to pass through the outer courts where servants and soldiers are taking their meals and their entertainment, full of blaring music and stumbling drunks and even some livestock. None dare to molest the Dynasts, however, and a path seems to clear for them almost naturally.

20:47 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan strolls through the crowd with the arrogance tilt to his chin, and scarely notices the insects to either side, save when he swipes a quick glass of wine from one.

20:49 [ST] Matara watches the action dubiously, but says nothing. Some surprise there. At length, the Dragon-Blooded enter the central hall of the Palace, where a bustle of local gentry, mortal Cynis dynasts, and Realm patricians mingle, drink, and indulge. The row of Kushan Defenders standing against the far wall, covered head to toe in heavy plate armor, their faces invisible, are the only sign of the tension that pervades the atmosphere.

20:51 [ST] Kalan has never seen Prince Sajet before, but he's easy to recognize, with an ungainly tortoiseshell crown and the piercing through the bridge of his noise that indicates he is an aristocrat. He wears a voluminous robe, inlaid with precious stones, and a ring on each finger. He would be a handsome man, perhaps, if he wasn't so grotesquely obese.

20:52 [ST] His bulk all but blocks the figure he's speaking with; there is a flash of bone-white hair and little else. The Mask's envoy, then.

20:53 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan makes his way to the mortal ruler to say his hellos, inclining his head occasionally to acknowledge various bows and scrappings thrown whis way. He curls his lip a little when he catches his first glimpse of the mortal ruler. It was amazing what the Cynis would tolerate; the Sesus too, considering the Slug. His face smooths out as he gets closer, and he bows politely to the mortal.

20:54 [Kalan] "Prince Sajet. I am honored to make your acquaintence. I am Cathak Kalan, shikari resplendent; and this is Cynis Matara, shikari." He makes no motion yet to acknowledge the creature he had interrupted.

20:56 [ST] "Greetings, Princes of the Earth. It is my honor to welcome you to my domain and my Palace Sublime." He gestures broadly, slopping a little wine from his mug. "And allow me to present the envoy from the Mask of Winters -"

20:59 [Kalan] Kalan turns stiffly, deigning to notice the creature for the first time.

21:01 [ST] "Greetings," a warm voice says, drawing the attention of the Dragon-Blooded to the envoy at last. A woman, tall, lean, and well-proportioned, her skin the same pale ivory as her hair, her face marked with dark streaks like domino makeup. She wears a black mourning dress like a second skin, and her lips are liquid midnight. "I am Maiden of the Mirthless Smile, honored servant to the Mask of Winters."

21:04 [Kalan] "Greetings," Kalan returns coldly. Zip flares a little at the tip of his spear.

21:05 [ST] Matara nods, almost unconsciously pressing backwards away from the woman. There is something unsettling in her countenance.

21:06 [ST] "I see the rumors about the hospitality of Kushan are true, Prince Sajet," she continues. "A warm reception for a single delegate like myself."

21:11 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan smiles thinly. "Of course we were eager to meet you, when we heard of your arrival."

21:13 [ST] "I was not aware that the Wyld Hunt had a presence in this region," the Maiden answers. "Doubtlessly drawn by rumors of Anathema."

21:18 [Kalan] "Doubtless," Kalan agrees. He offers her a glass of wine from a passing tray, taking one for himself. "But what brings you here?" The blunt inquiry is delivered with delicacy of an elephant, but Kalan can't bring himself to give a damn. He wasn't going to spend the entire night trading gentle barbs with the creature.

21:21 [ST] "A direct man," She smiles, black lips curling up to reveal white teeth. Her canines seem slightly elongated. "I like that. It is written in the seventh accord of Sextis Jylis that what comes out of a man's mouth is what marks his worth, and that bluntness is the sign of an honest heart. I will return the same favor to you."

21:22 [ST] "The Mask of Winters has long had an understanding with Kushan. He does not seek to control it or to do it harm. His quarrel is with the Scavenger Lands and what they represent. Their aggression toward him and the city of Thorns has been intolerable, and so he must defend himself and his subjects from their oppression and... disorder."

21:23 [ST] "I am here to speak to the Prince of Kushan and to the Realm... to reassure them of the Mask's friendship. Particularly in the wake of recent disorder here."

21:28 [Kalan] "His territory grows at a prodigious rate, defending himself," Kalan observes, cooly sardonic. "I won't pretend to care about the ills of the Scavenger Lands, but what evidence do you offer that the Mask's ambitions end at the border?"

21:33 [ST] "I cannot give you evidence of something that is not occurring," she smiles, her expression unwavering. "Nevertheless, I have brought documents sealed by the Mask, promising the independence of Kushan and surrounding Realm satrapies, and recognizing the Realm's right of domain over them. He has never challenged the Realm, and has no desire to do so."

21:40 [Kalan] But for Thorns. He is surprised a little by the snarl of hatred that coils around his heart like a serpent. �But for the Mask, I need never have suffered disgrace.� He laughs. "I see you have no desire to return candor for candor," he says. "Well, you have delivered your documents. Do you plan to stay long?" He says the words politely, even casually, but he doesn't conceal the venom shining in his eyes.

21:43 [ST] "I will stay as long as I am welcome... until Prince Sajet and the Cynis have time to weigh my master's words and their value," her smile does not waver. "Shall I prove my sincerity to you? What would satisfy you, Prince of the Earth?"

21:46 [ST] The air around her seems charged, suddenly, redolent with a sickly heat, and she is more beautiful than ever, a cold, terrible, entrancing quality like the edge of a bright steel scalpel.

21:52 [Kalan] Garm had wanted to avoid incident. Answering �your head on my spear�, however sincere, seemed likely to provoke incident. He flushes red, and the air is suddenly too hot, even for him. Almost he lusts for her, but he looks at her cold face and it is monsterous, a perversion of flesh stamped by death.

21:52 [Kalan] Touching her would be like making love to corpse. Revolting Thorns. He bares his teeth at her.

21:53 [ST] Wine slops from Sajet's cup as the man takes a step back, and at Kalan's elbow Cynis Matara gives a strangled gasp.

21:54 [Kalan] "Nothing can, bitch."

21:55 [Kalan] She smells like blood and smoke, putrid and enticing.

21:55 [ST] "That's... not... polite..." Matara manages.

21:56 [ST] "Shall I accompany you?" the woman asks. "Help you solve these disturbances?"

21:57 [ST] "Yes," Matara breathes. "It would be most helpful."

21:58 [ST] "Perhaps you should remain here," Sajet interjects.

22:00 [Kalan] Kalan draws in a breath, struggling to regain his composure. "Personnel is a matter for the Amercer of the Hunt. We will have to consult with him," he says, voice chilly but mercifully steady. He draws back. "We will certainly convey your request." He glances at the stricken Matara.

22:04 [ST] "As you will, Cathak Kalan. Know that my offer, and my master's, are genuine. Surely, even if you will not import him the benevolence that is his due, you can accept that he's not so great a fool as to antagonize the Realm." Her gaze turns to Matara. "But I can tell such talk is boring Matara. Isn't it?"

22:05 [ST] Matara stammers an inaudible reply, staring at the woman as if thunderstruck. Sajet is all but pulling on her sleeve to return her attention to him, but she pays approximately as much as the Dragon-BLooded ever have, which is virtually none.

22:09 [Kalan] "I fear we are due home," Cathak Kalan interjects, face as smooth as marble now. "There are preparations still to be made for the approaching Hunt." His eyes wander disdainfully over the debauched crowd and besotted prince. "I am sure you will enjoy the rest of the evening."

22:10 [Kalan] He takes Matara's arm again, gripping it hard. He bows to the envoy, and then to Sajet, who hardly notices.

22:16 [ST] Matara tugs lightly against his grip. "It's not so late, Kalan," she says, her voice drowsy, almost drugged.

22:19 [Kalan] "I'm afraid it can't wait." He doesn't respond to the light tugging. "Prince, Maiden," he says, and with a grasp like iron he pulls her away.

22:20 [ST] "I'll see you soon, little Dynast," the Maiden says as the two depart. It's unclear to whom she is speaking. The promise, at least, seems to mollify Matara, and she comes along willingly.

22:23 [ST] Once out in the night air and beyond the walls of the Palace, Matara seems to sober up, sagging heavily against Kalan's grip and blinking rapidly.

22:23 [Kalan] "Follow her," Kalan says as light as a breath, and the flame atop his spear winks out as Zip dematerializes.

22:24 [Kalan] "Feeling better, Matara?" Kalan asks without warmth.

22:27 [ST] She exhales violently, then turns away and staggers to the mouth of an alley, retching. After a long, awkward moment, she rises again, blinking heavily, wobbling a bit. "Y-yes," she says. "I don't know what happened. I wanted-" It's rather obvious what she wanted.

22:29 [Kalan] "Yes, I know," Kalan says with cool contempt, just as if he'd never even felt the impulse himself. "Will you be able to control yourself in the future?"

22:30 [ST] "I always control myself!" She snaps suddenly, hands balling into fists. "Always!"

22:31 [Kalan] "You were panting like one of your pleasure slaves," Kalan says with crude accuracy.

22:34 [ST] "They're not my slaves," she says, sullen and bitter. "They were my brother's, and look what it got him."

22:37 [Kalan] "Just so." He calls the horses over with a waved arm. "Whatever you pathology is, you will find campaigns go easier if you confine your...romantic urges to whores and peasants." An ostler marches over brightly comes with a horse's bride in either hand. He mounts. "Pray do so."

22:39 [ST] "Don't bother yourself with my romantic urges," she snaps. The ostler staggers back as if burned, fleeing the scene as rapidly as dignity allows as Matara climbs into the saddle.

22:41 [Kalan] "It was a euphemism" Kalan explains with cold, sarcastic amusement. "And it seems the Hunt must., after that little display." He turns his horse's head sharply, and puts his heels to its side.

22:43 [ST] "I was going to thank you," she says, but the anger in her voice is cold and sullen, if anything. "For taking me out of there. I'm not sure... she did something to my mind, Kalan. Despite what you might think about the Cynis, I'm not-" She grunts. "You know what I'm not."

22:45 [Kalan] "Yes," says agrees Kalan, relenting somewhat. His lips are set in a hard line. "And we retreated like whipped dogs." He balls his fist. "Well. She may be sincere after all about the Mask's involvement. There are other Deathlords."

22:49 [ST] "I can't face her again," Matara says quietly after a moment. "Whether she was telling the truth or not, she is... wrong, evil." There's a moment of silence, then she says, in a rush. "If I start to do that again, I want you to kill me."

22:51 [Kalan] Kalan raises his brows in amusement. "You are a child, aren't you?"

22:52 [Kalan] "I am not going to kill one of the Dragonblooded of this Hunt." He glances around him uneasily. Fewer people now, later in the evening. He wondered if he would notice someone following them.

22:55 [ST] "I'm not a child. I am a Prince of the Earth, and I make this request for the sake of the Brotherhood you claim to invoke. I won't be in that creature's thrall, not for an evening, for an instant."

22:58 [Kalan] "I don't know what your control issues are," Kalan says, guiding his horse around an overturned applecart, "I don't particularly care for them. You are of no use to the Realm dead; whatever the creature did to you, it is your duty to face it squarely and overcome it." He glances at her, and his mouth twists in an ugly smile. "Who knows? We may be able to use it."

23:01 [ST] "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She says quietly. "You like to torment others. Don't think you're the first."

23:03 [Kalan] "Oh, I'm under no illusions in that regard," he says, glancing over her shoulder. "You have the kind of demeanor that attracts bullies."

23:06 [ST] "Do I?" Her horse steps lightly over a puddle. The marketplace the two pass through is all but empty at this hour, the windows all tightly shuttered. No one passes but an occasional guard. "What does yours attract? Contempt?"

23:08 [Kalan] His lips thin, and he reins in his horse suddenly, drawing it in front of her's. He looks her squarely in the eye. "You would be surprised by what a person can survive,." His voice is cold and empty, his gaze remote. "Whatever happens, endure. It's the only way to beat the bastards."

23:12 [ST] "No I wouldn't," She says quietly. "And I'm trying."

23:13 [Kalan] He jerks his head to the side, glancing at something across the street. "Then stop asking people to kill you."

23:15 [ST] "I won't be controlled again," She says tightly. "That is my victory. I don't expect you to-"

23:15 [ST] Kalan notices something. He doesn't SEE anything... it's a feeling, a pinprick between his shoulder blades. It's a smell on the wind like fresh tar and bile. Something's watching.

23:18 [ST] The two Dragonblooded have ridden into a small plaza, filled with empty carts and stacks of barrels, fronted by shuttered windows and blank faced buildings. There is a single small entrance at either end.

23:18 [Kalan] "Hollow," Kalan jeers. "Victory is blood on the end of your spear and your enemies' weapons at your feet." He draws his horse closer to her's.

23:20 [Kalan] He reaches out casually a brushes a strand of hair from her face.

23:24 [ST] "Don't," she says sharply, drawing back from his touch. "I told you, I don't want-"

23:29 [Kalan] He laughs at her, more cruelly than before, and grabs her shoulder, leaning in close to her before she can stop him. "Something foul watching" he whispers into her lips just before he kisses her. Her hand snakes out to put her little dress-knife across his throat, and he jerks back bodily, his horse half-rearing in surprise.

23:30 [ST] "Don't touch me!" She hisses, but her eyes dart sharply to one side, and so she sees it at the same time Kalan does.

23:31 [ST] There is a crackle, a whiff of brimstone, a burst of green light. Something takes shape at the far end of the alley, seeming to gel out of thin air... something like a lion of jade, though it is like no lion at all. Its fangs drip with saliva. Black lightning wreathes its form. And it speaks, in a low, hissing, sibilant tone. "We are one of many. We spring anew like blades of iron Malfeas-grass. We are eternal. We are the hunters of the green hells."

23:31 [ST] An instant later, there is another noise, and something else steps from behind... it resembles a man, bent low and hugging the ground, its back a nest of tightly packed quills the color of indigo. One of these quills is held tightly in a long-fingered fist, and its beady eyes regard the pair of Dragonblooded with malicious interest. It chitters in no language ever formed by a human tongue.

23:31 [Kalan] He curls his lip at her, but it's hard to miss the tension in him now.

23:33 [Kalan] He curses, and has to fight to keep his seat as his horse shifts and bucks beneath him, winnying. There were reasons the legions were unmounted. He looses his spear in his hand, essence settling about him like a fog as he curves his shoulders and hands in Five Dragons Stance.

23:34 [ST] Matara turns and slips from her horse, her short blade held at the ready. THe hilt is ornamental, but the edge is sharp enough--- though too short to be useful from horseback.

23:42 [Kalan] A spark leaps for Kalan to Matara, outlining her blade and giving it a red gleam. He turns his horse around by its head forcibly, settling Tongue and Flame flat and level to the pommel. His lips draw back in a cold smile, and the wary horse screams as he taps its flank with the butt of the heated spear, charging straight at the green lion.

23:44 [Kalan] The horse's eyes are white and rolling, but it does as its meant, and Tongue of Flame bursts into flame as Kalan sends it flying into the demon's chest.

23:45 [ST] As the warmth from Kalan's charm reaches out to touch Matara, she stands a little straighter, her blade moving with increased precision, throwing off sparks.

23:47 [ST] As Kalan comes charging in, the lion flickers and shifts, seeming to vibrate in place, to multiply. It blinks backward, dodging the initial thrust, its paw darting up to bat away at the spear.

23:48 [ST] Crouching low, the lion seems to vibrate again, and leaps forward, striking at Kalan and his horse in a flickering barrage of strobing strikes.

23:53 [Kalan] There's a flash of flame and smoke as Kalan moves, kicking himself out of the way. The smoke stings the lion's eyes, and its blow goes awry, breaking the horses back with one heavy blow and then smashing its face to mush.

23:54 [Kalan] The mercy is, it doesn't have time to scream.

23:55 [ST] The horse crashes heavily to the ground, and the lion steps over it without a backward glance. No real lion - just a thing taking its shape. It seeks other prey.

23:57 [Kalan] "I liked that horse," Kalan says without much heat. Fire drips off his spear, fading to sparks and smoke as it reaches the ground.

23:57 [ST] Matara, emboldened by this success, charges forward, springing high off an empty street cart. She reorients herself as she descends, blade lashing down to rake at the creature's face once, twice.

23:59 [ST] The lion doesn't move; Matara's blade skitters along its mane, cutting a thin trench, and it laughs low in its throat. "We are Teodozji. We are many. We are one. We are charged with your deaths."

00:00 [Kalan] "Who?"

00:01 [ST] The Firmin skitters forward, running briefly on all fours like a beast. It coils briefly like a hedgehog, diving forward, coming out of the roll with a savage stab at Matara's back.

00:03 [ST] A burst of red light flares around Matara. She darts to one side, but she's a touch too slow, overextended from her attack on the Teodozji, and the blade bites deeply into her side.

00:04 [ST] "Who?" the Teodozji asks, stalking back and forth.

00:05 [ST] The Firmin repeats it like a parrot, cavorting, lapping at the blood coating its needlelike blade. "Who? Who?"

00:07 [Kalan] Kalan backs away, and the Teodoziji matches him step for step. "Surely your master wants us to cursing his name with our dying breath," he says idly. He lashes out with his spear, once, twice, feints designed to make the lion jump, and it recoils. He takes another step back into something foul, and glances down, nose wrinkling, at a rotting pear marring his new boots.

00:08 [ST] "Our master is a cautious one, yessss," the teodozji says. "We will whisper the name into your ear while we lap the blood from your throat. We feel that this is a fair arrangement."

00:09 [Kalan] The lion charges him, but this was yet another feint, he stabs the ground, using Tongue of Flame like a pole vault to propell him over Matara.

00:09 [Kalan] He descends in a wreath of flame, the direlance clutched two-handed, jamming it down into the quill-demon's skull.

00:12 [ST] The firmin squawks, ducking its head and presenting a nest of quills to the descending Kalan... but the spear shears through them as if they aren't even there.

00:13 [Kalan] There's an ugly, cracking noise as it penetrates the thing's skull, and a smell like burning tar. Kalan's momentum propells the direlance down deeper, pushing through gore and acid bile.

00:15 [Kalan] Kalan himself struggles to keep his feet crouched atop the Firmin's head, quills scraping at his boots as the demon struggles beneath him, impaled on the spear and burning.

00:15 [ST] The Firmin gives a loud, warbling gurgle, and then thick, indigo-colored blood sprays explosively from its mouth and eye sockets. It pitches forward as Kalan slips from atop it, twitching feebly on the pavement.

00:17 [ST] Matara advances through a puddle of horse blood, her eyes darting back and forth. She feints high and then darts low, lashing out at the lion's eyes, though they seem no more vulnerable than the rest.

00:19 [ST] The jade lion bats the stroke aside almost lazily, then springs without even seeming to move, erupting in a burst of strikes at Kalan and Matara. Black lightning crackles balefully across its form.

00:19 [Kalan] Kalan steadies settles back into the Prancing Dragon Stance, direspear levelled like a horn, and watches Matara to gauge her wounds.

00:20 [ST] Matara's blade is there, flickering to meet the teodozji's first attack, but she cannot halt the momentum. It breaks through as flames flare about her again, and once again she's too slow.

00:23 [ST] The demon's jade claws tear Matara open from crotch to throat, rending her elegant dress and the flesh beneath with equal fury. Blood sprays across the stones of the alley in a long, distorted whiplash. Matara takes a step back, looks down at herself, opens her mouth to speak.

00:23 [ST] "I-... It... hurts."

00:24 [ST] A bubble of blood forms on her lips, then bursts. She falls bonelessly to the ground, unmoving.

00:25 [Kalan] "That's hardly civilized," Kalan says cooly, stepping over her. His boot leaves a patterned impression in the blood seeping onto the cobblestones.

00:27 [ST] "She is much more beautiful now, as you will be. Perhaps you agree, to react so to her beautiful death. We will help you find your own." The creature shifts back and forth, waiting.

00:28 [Kalan] But Kalan knows patience too. He is a Cathak, chosen of Heisheh, and he knows his moment. He holds his spear two-handed as the lion paces, flexing his fingers, waiting for the attack, as Matara's lifesblood seeps into the ground.

00:30 [Kalan] The lion crouches in prelude of a leap, and then jumps, limbs extended. Kalan moves faster than the demon would have believed possible, darting forward in a stream of sparks to catch the Tedeoziji at the apex of its leap.

00:31 [Kalan] A wave of fire washes upward, and then Kalan seems to blur, attacking from the right, the left, and above so fast their seem to be five of them, all written from smoke and flame.

00:33 [ST] This time, Kalan has anticipated the lion's flickering dodge; in midair, there's little place for it to go anyway, and the spear burrows deeply into its stomach.

00:37 [Kalan] The spear jerks out, splaying green bile across the empty marketplace that hisses and smokes, and at almost the same moment, the spear slashes its back, shattering its spine ito jade fragments, cuts off its tail, and stabs right up through its jaw and into the brain.

00:37 [Kalan] The lion falls.

00:38 [Kalan] In pieces.

00:39 [Kalan] Kalan stands still as a statue hunks of jade land around him, and then slowly douses his spear.

00:39 [ST] They clatter noisily as they fall. One will be found by a peasant in days hence, treasured, and then stolen from him for a pittance by an unscrupulous merchant. As prolonged exposure to teodozji flesh is fatal, the peasant will never realize how fortunate he is.

00:40 [ST] Now, however, the plaza is silent. Matara's horse, riderless, has bolted.

00:41 [Kalan] Cathak Kalan turns to his fallen comrade. Her hands are slack now, having lost consciousness as she vainly tried to push the sides of her wounds together. There's so much blood. He feels at her throat.

00:43 [ST] A weak pulse beats beneath Kalan's fingers, and her blood stains them. Her wounds are starting to close, but there's no telling how broken up she might be on the inside.

00:46 [Kalan] He looks aroud vainly for Matara's damned horse, but it's long since gone. He burns the quill demon to ash with the Tongue's flame, but there's little he can do about the jade lion. He puts his arm gingerly under the fallen Dragonblooded, grunting with effort as he pulls her onto his shoulder. Duty. The word is foul.

00:46 [Kalan] And he begins the walk home.

00:51 [ST] The streets are silent now, aside from occasional guards who draw back at the passage of the dragon-blooded, horrified. Halfway there, Matara begins to moan and struggle to form words. She's babbling, not making any sense.

00:51 [ST] "...won't be one of them... don't care what happened to me... I won't be one of them."

00:54 [Kalan] The doorguard's jaw drops wide open as he takes in the wounded Dragonblooded and the bloodstained, tired-looking one. Cathak Kalan dumps her into his arms, and he sags under the weight. "Find Talek and tell him he has a patient," Kalan instructs the other.

00:54 [Kalan] He stands staring, wide-eyed. "Quickly," Kalan snaps, with a roar of flame for emphasis, and he takes off running.

00:56 [ST] Pandemonium breaks out behind the DragonBlood.

00:58 [ST] "What's going on here?" the voice of V'Neef Jorj comes from around the corner. "That mortal's running like he's seen the Mask... of.... Win...ters..." He trails off as he sees the scene of carnage before him.

00:59 [Kalan] Blood lies slick on Kalan's armor. "We ran into trouble on the way home," he says briefly.

01:00 [ST] Jorj seems shocked. "I... see... that. Anathema?"

01:00 [Kalan] "Demons. Is Garm in his quarters?"

01:01 [ST] "Garm's here. Avaku is with him. Talek is... out."

01:02 [Kalan] Kalan raises his brows. "I see. Well, excuse me, then. I need to report."

01:05 [Kalan] He brushes past the sorcerer without another word, walking slowly and stiffly to the Amercer's quarters. The last attack had taken a lot out of him; his very bones felt drained of the Dragon's might.

01:09 [ST] No one has alerted Garm yet; the door is still closed, and a quiet conference is going on, though too muffled to make out clearly.

01:09 [ST] "can't trust-"

01:09 [ST] "-something all wrong-"

01:10 [ST] "-outside"

01:10 [ST] The door flies open, revealing an irate Garm

01:12 [Kalan] "We're back," Kalan says without comment.

01:12 [ST] "And-?"

01:14 [Kalan] "Aren't you going invite me inside?" Kalan asks cooly. He continues, "The Maiden has come, she says, to assure the Realm and Prince Sajet that the disturbances are none the of the Mask's doing; further, she requests to join the Wyld Hunt to root out the true malefactor."

01:15 [ST] "Join the Hunt?" Avaku steps back to let Kalan in. "I'm not a religious man, but that has to be unforgivable blasphemy."

01:19 [Kalan] Kalan steps into the room and takes a seat, sighing. "I don't believe she wishes a permanent position," he says, shrugging. "She used some...foul magic...as we spoke. Matara was all but drooling with lust, and Prince Sajek is under her thrall ."

01:20 [ST] Avaku furrows his brow. "Matara is not given to lustful moods," he says. "Where is she?"

01:21 [Kalan] "You know your family members best," Kalan says with a polite bow in his direction. "Matara came to her senses once we'd left her presence, but believes she may be vulnerable again. Talek should be seeing to her now; we were attacked on the way home."

01:22 [Kalan] "Two demons. They are disposed of. She is gravely injured."

01:24 [ST] "The boy is not here," Avaku says sharply. When he hears the news, he reacts violently. "Injured? I'll- I know something of battlefield medicine, perhaps I can do something until the boy arrives." He nods briefly at Garm, but it's a formality; he all but runs from the room.

01:25 [ST] Garm seems to have taken the news in his grumbling stride. "Demons. Envoys. One of our number hurt, another absent. Damn it. This is the worst job I've ever had."

01:29 [Kalan] Kalan looks vaguely about for a glass and some wine. "Well, you chose it." He shrugs, finding standing. "I found the fight...invigorating," he says, uncorking a dusty bottle he spies hiding atop a sidetable.

01:29 [ST] "I take it Matara found it... less so. She's too inexperienced for this work."

01:31 [Kalan] "Yes," Kalan agrees. He glances at Garm. "Why is she here? She should at least have a Brotherhood backing her up." A pause. "Shalll I pour you a glass?"

01:35 [ST] He waves it off. "I'll pass. I was drunk when I fought Mirror Flag. She liked to keep her audiences sedated." He flexes his false fingers.

01:35 [ST] "Matara is here because she requested it. Her family was very supportive of the idea. She's not... your average Cynis."

01:38 [Kalan] "No. The girl asked me to kill her if she succumbed to the Maiden again." He smiles, still amused by the idea.

01:40 [ST] "She isn't a Cynis, by birth. Some kind of Lost Egg, adopted in quietly, but everyone knows. You know how such things are. Avaku seems to feel some kinship for her, or pity. He's a kinder man than me." Garm grunts, as if aware he's said too much. "Regardless, tell me about the demons that attacked you."

01:44 [Kalan] "A jade lion; a quill-demon..a Firmin, I believe they're called. They were there to kill us, but wouldn't say who sent them. It had to have been someone who knew where we were going, and coming back from."

01:48 [ST] "Not necessarily. We don't have the ability to see demons here - they could have been tailing you while dematerialized... but something about it seems strange." He scratches his chin. "The other one was a teodozji. It's an unusual breed, rarely used. Has violent reactions to holy symbols... not a very subtle tool. Firmin are a joke, they have trouble catching rats. For an assassination, it's a strange pair."

01:48 [ST] "Makes me think this was a spur-of-the-moment thing."

01:52 [Kalan] "Makes sense," Kalan agrees. There's a pause as he stares into his wineglass, and he tilts his head back and drains it. "There are two sorcerers on this hunt," he says, wiping his mouth with a bloody sleeve.

01:52 [Kalan] He says it calmly, as one stating a fact.

01:55 [ST] "Yes, and I don't like 'em any more than you, but that doesn't mean they tried to kill the two of you. Anyone across Creation could have summoned those creatures... I'll keep my eye on the two sorcerors and advise you to do the same, but it's too early to lob accusations."

01:55 [ST] "I can't see that either of them would have something to gain."

01:58 [Kalan] "Well, its what we don't know about them that would be of interest. The Dragonblooded," and his eyes are hard, "are no less corruptible than anyone."

02:01 [ST] "Agreed, but what we don't know could fill volumes. Not," he adds, "That I know much about you, save that you were pushed into the Hunt for some reason. You could have attacked Matara yourself, for all I know... if she survives, she should back up your story."

02:03 [Kalan] His smile is twisted. "Me? Oh, I am as innocent as a new lamb." He stands. "We're saying no to the Maiden's kind offer?"

02:05 [ST] "If you want to take her off with you to investigate a disturbance she most likely caused with a man you think tried to kill you and a mortally wounded woman as back up, be my guest. You'll have to be the one to ask, though."

02:09 [Kalan] "I'm considering it. Otherwise she'll be making trouble where I can't see her, and leading Prince Sajet into all sorts of delightful corruption." He is pleased to be able to salute with the wine glass. "If I you need nothing more..."

02:11 [ST] "Nothing now. I'll see to Avaku and Matara, and inform the others about what has happened. You are dismissed until tomorrow."

02:11 [Kalan] Kalan snags the bottle of wine on his way out.

02:16 [Kalan] Kalan is asleep when Zip reappears, hovering annoyingly over his face to shine light over his closed eyes to wake him up. An empty bottle is on the nightstand by the bed, and the Dragonblooded sleeps heavily. With an irritated flare of light, Zip lowers itself closer and lets its flame kiss him on the cheek.

02:16 [Kalan] Kalan wakes up quickly.

02:17 [ST] The tiny elemental darts back and forth, its flames seeming to make shapes as it tells Kalan about what it saw.

02:17 [Kalan] "What's the news?" he asks, when is breathing is under control again. Zip had prudently retreated to the ceiling as the Dragonblooded yelped and flailed. It floats down slowly again, suspicious of retribution, and then...

02:21 [ST] The woman, who burned bright with a heat that was not flame, moved about the hall, talking to everyone. Everyone followed her around as she went, and they talked about the same things she talked about with Kalan, and everyone seemed to like her. Then the fat man tried to take her upstairs, but she wagged a finger in his face and slipped away, and he took another woman upstairs.

02:21 [Kalan] "Where did she go?"

02:23 [ST] And then the woman who burned but not with flame went upstairs too and Zip was going to follow her but she kept her room dark and there was no torch flame for Zip to hide in and it was afraid of her and so it waited outside the palace for a long time to see if she left, but she didn't and then he came home.

02:27 [Kalan] Kalan lets loose an irritated hiss of breath, but doesn't bother scolding the little elemental. It did the best it was capable of. It comes closer, when it sees he's not angry, and rests for a while on his shoulder, warming his cheek. Then it accidentally singes his hair, Kalan curses, and it darts out of reach.

02:27 [Kalan] "What is really your aim, woman?" he wonders aloud.