RP:A Little Digging

Ancient black dragon's den

Ohan paces quietly into the cave, eyes scanning the darkend area. Once decided that the coast is clear, the rogue walks out in the open, hand held on the hilt of his sword ready to defend if the occasion arises. A soft breath is given as his other hand reaches up and lifts the mask, allowing it to rest on top of his head. Carrying himself, he walks to the back wall where the symbol is painted. A gloved hand is gently placed along the outer edges of the piece and traces it.

Gheneroc shifts into view at the cave mouth, but not as a dragon. An unfortunate human had become the dragon's literal puppet. The man dressed in rags was middle-aged, and unarmed. He strolled quietly into the cave, almost impossibly quiet. "You have returned..." The beggar with chain marks on his limbs and neck, visible through a few holes in the clothes he wore. His tone was calm, even though heavily accented. "Are you looking for something?" Came the man's question. His hair was turning grey, salt and pepper colored at the moment.

Ohan turns his gaze back to the mouth of the cave as he hears the voice. His hand holding the hilt, tightens around the handle but no draw is made yet. His free hand moves up and returns the mask to cover his face in shadows. “Yes,” he replies before turning around fully. “I'm looking for the dragon that called this cave home. He's still alive right, or has he left this plane?” The rogue begins to take a few steps closer to the weathered man, removing the hand from his weapon, to show no hostility.

Gheneroc nodded. "Quite alive." Gheneroc shifted forward, again the man was completely unarmed, slowly tracing in a circle. "Is there something you wanted?" Gheneroc came to rest and folded his arms across his chest.

Ohan nods “I have an artifact, one that holds a language I find rarely in hidden texts. I've been trying to decipher it's words, and a...” he pauses as he tries to think of an appropriate word “mutual acquaintance, had said to bring it to Gheneroc as he might be able to decode what the artifact says better then a text.”

Gheneroc smirked. "Such a thing will not be without its cost. What are you willing to pay?" The human waves his hand before Ohan could respond. "Not gold, or jewels. These trinkets are of no interest."

Ohan 's eyes narrow behind his mask. “I can offer my services if needed, or do a few jobs in return. But I told him once, I'm not going to be his puppet. I have no master and if that's what the cost is, I'm sure I can find others who would be able to translate.”

Gheneroc accepted the hand shake, seemingly alien to the gesture. "Alright, then the translation can be done."

Ohan moves his hand from the hand shake to move behind his coat where a hilt to another weapon lies. As the blade is removed from is sheath prison, a chaotic aura quickly races through the area, filling the small cave with its influence. Ohan's blue eyes darken slightly and a barely visable swirl begins to form from the pupil outward. He begins a slow and steady breathing exercise once the blade is fully removed as if trying to remain in the moment. Placing the blade of the sword in his other hand, he holds it out to allow the man to read it.

Gheneroc could feel the curse pouring from the blade. Gheneroc took another step back from the reeling chaos, and rather than attempt to read through the storm of magic, the man began chanting that grew louder and louder until he pushed his magic at the blade until the chaos was utterly contained. The barrier would also shield Ohan as he stepped closer to read. "It is dragon..." The man observes, stepping back in for a closer look at the runes. "Madness... Ensnare... Mind... Destruction." He traced his finger over the four runes that were easily visible. "These are meant to contain the power and give it purpose." Gheneroc was, perhaps reading a little much into the sword. "I suspect it bears a Curse of Madness with a boon of darker powers. Used improperly it will make you go mad." Gheneroc was stating this as he continued to observe the sword and smiled as he noted something particularly interesting. The sword had an off switch. The human waved his hand, unleashing the power again to let it abound freely before uttering a single word in ancient draconic before touching the hilt of the blade. The power stopped flowing almost immediately. "Serenity. That is the key word. Perhaps the name of the weapon."

Ohan looks at the weapon and listens as the man speaks. He nods then looks up. “And when turned on? Using it to kill seems to dull the control for a moment, but no more then putting a mute on a horn. Does it say the proper way to use it. If improperly will make the user go mad, what is the reverse of it?”

Gheneroc shook his head. "I can only infer that it means you must keep your mind clear while threatened with madness. Only the crafter could give you something more definitive. Perhaps it needs to be fed. A sacrifice to keep the power."

Ohan gives a slight nod. “Interesting.” nothing more is said as he looks over his weapon again. “So then three tasks, anything to do now, or should I be expecting a letter from you in the future?”

The man disappeared leaving Ohan to wonder what his payment would require.