RP:A Tracker Recruited

Part of the The Most Dangerous Game Arc

Main Road's End

Saiyah huffed. A hot, mist of fog rose upwards, dissipating into the frosty wind while she studied a map. For claiming to be one of the land's best known tracker, and hunter- she sure couldn't read a map for the life of her. Her original aim had been for the queen's Castle, but look how successful she was at that. Word through the grapevine had it, Frostmaw was having some poaching problems, and for some reason she decided -now- was as good a time as any to come out of retirement. What with the recent happenings on the island, the malicious gaunt, and now her arm? What more did she have to lose? The map was crumpled, and thrown over her shoulder. Left, or Right?

Svilfon had been stalking the frigid streets of Frostmaw since early this morning, travelling a large circuit around the village. He was still angry over his fight with Kirien's sworn sword yesterday, and the marks are still rather clear on his face: Streaks of flesh were burned away like melting wax by her insidious, disgusting dragon blood. It was almost too much to bare for a wizard who is forced into being idle while struggling to deal with Emiur being missing. He loved that damn bag of scales. And it is upon one of these loops that he spies Saiyah. He stops for a moment as she huffs out a cloud of smoke before throwing the paper onto the ground. "Littering is against Frostmaw law, you know." He grins as he says it, in truth he doesn't know nor care whether littering is against any of Frostmaw's laws. "I am Svilfon, wizard-knight of Frostmaw. Who are you and what do you want?" Not the warmest greeting, but only a fool would expect a warm greeting in the frozen City of War.

Saiyah had been getting that question a lot- give or take on the littering prosecution. The mute did not turn around, but instead lifted a hand- her right. Two fingers were snapped, and silently pointing at the ground beside her. 'A tourist, lost.' Even out here in the frozen north, where she could feel each and every scale rattling with her shivers, Saiyah managed a mild sense of sarcastic humor. The words were of ink, bleeding from nothing into the very ground she stood on. An illusionists meager skill, used for communication, and nothing more. She had quill and parchment, but not the functioning motor skills to work them; numb fingers and all. Gradually though, she'd shift in a hundred and eighty degree turn, if only to face him.

Svilfon spends a long moment simply staring at Saiyah. Something was stirring just beyond his grasp, but with an imperceptible shrug he lets it go. His gaze flicks to the words she summons and for just a moment his eyes narrow and his look becomes almost feral, before it fades as quick as it came; like one of the many storms that batter this city, it doesn't take long for a relative calm to return and a small smile to appear on his lips. His left hand extends out and he grasps from the air itself his Xalious-wood wand. With a slight flourish - him flicking it up and down his fingers - he points to the ground before the naga and writes words similar to her own upon the snow. 'You cannot tell me you slithered your way from beneath the mountains to their very peak simply to see the sights. No one is that stupid... are they?' It appears the wizard's own sense of humour isn't entirely destroyed by his pressing situation.

Saiyah narrowed those jade-green, serpentine eyes of hers. It wasn't hard to tell she wasn't from around here, for many reasons. The race, for starters. Even though she didn't share the same biological features as her serpentine relatives, the cold did nothing positive for her, and her lower snake-half. Secondly, the clothes.. or lack of.. she wore, had virtually zero applicable use out here in the frozen lands. A thin wrap of cloth both around her waist and left arm were about it, the rest was body paint, tribal beads (hanging oh-so-convienitnely low across her breast) and tattoos ranging from head to.. tail. In all honesty, it looked like she had just been ripped from a tribal bonfire deep in the jungles of her lost island, and dropped here. Saiyah tucked a few loose dreadlocks behind her ear, and snapped harshly at the ground. 'You have a voice, use it. I am here for a hunt, Kasyr. Do you know him?' Everyone knew Kasyr, for mixed reasons. Some good, some bad, but either way.. it gave her a fifty fifty chance of showing Svil just where she stood, in terms of neutrality.

Svilfon sighs as he reads her words. He enjoyed replying in turn, if only as something brief to concentrate on. Wandering minds are dangerous things when wizards are concerned. Neverthless, he lets go of his wand, which promptly vanishes back to his room in the Mage's Guild, and takes half a step back. Like always he is dressed in his fur-lined robes with his hat resting proudly upon his head. And even though he is now a vampire; undead, walking without need of a heart beating blood... he is still cold. This woman in her... clothes... must be frozen half to death. And upon reading 'Kasyr' upon the snow, the wizard decides for now the naga has his trust. He whispers a quiet series of words beneath his breath which causes the blowing snow to be come rain around the two for just a moment, before it stops penetrating a warmth that seems to pour from the wizard. It wasn't exactly warm compared to the lower lands, but it was a whole lot warmer than the frigid air in Frostmaw. Satisfied at last, Svil speaks to Saiyah. "Do I know him? Yes, I do. I am a... friend... of his. Of sorts. Perhaps family." He waves away his own question. "What is it you are hunting for him? He is not often around, but perhaps I can help." He ends the words with half a smile; a look that's entirely ambiguous, but at least it is no longer menacing.

Saiyah had dangerous eyes, authoritative and predatory. The kind that stared you down in the darkest of night. With these she stared at the man long and hard before finally loosening up. Friend. 'A long time friend, caught word about hunters.' The words bled darker the longer she waited, thinking now was probably the best time to reach for parchment. Even if it was all (mostly) an illusion, bleeding ink from the ground came off a little more cryptic then she may have wanted. The naga had more runes, enchants, and elixirs then a mage's storage shed, all providing as much warmth as they could. Even still it wasn't enough, so Svilfon's magical shroud of warmth encompassing the two was highly appreciated. 'Saiyah, is my name. Good to know he still has those, friends.'

Svilfon was not afraid of those eyes that stared so dangerously at him. He prefers to wear the veil of joviality most the time, for it makes life more enjoyable, but there is a terrible beast within this man struggling against its bonds, hoping to tear free to leave nothing but a carnage the wizard so desperately wants. But though it struggles, the vampire's bonds do not break. He maintains control, reading her words in silence before replying. "Saiyah," He probably mispronounces it, but not on purpose. Now there were only one type of hunters Svilfon knew were being discussed right now, and his agile mind jumps the gaps. Or, more accurately, he just assumes and acts like knows what he's talking about. "You come about the couatl." It isn't a question - it probably should have been. "What is it you have heard? Come..." He motions north to the mouth of the cave where at least there was no snow or wind. "Let us speak in more comfortable surroundings." Without waiting for a reply, he begins to walk north.

Frostmaw Mines

Saiyah was more than happy to slither after the mage, highly unimpressed with the frigid cold Kasyr chose to live in these days. There was a reason she lived on an island. Tropical, humid, moist and hot.. just the way she liked it. When inside, she'd simply hald him a folded sheet of parchment, on it a fresh set of words, compliments of the same illusionary magic from outside. 'Coutal, I know nothing. Only, there might have been, and/or are hunters that shouldn't be. Or am I on a wild goose chase?' While he read the note, she quietly slid towards a lone boulder, tossing a satchel on top. The one and only thing she carried with her; just what was she going to use if indeed she did find one of these said hunters?

Svilfon reads over the words quickly as she slings her satchel on the top of the lone boulder. For a long moment he thinks over his next words, before finally he hands her back the note she wrote and replies. "There are hunters who have hunted something they shouldn't -have-. I do not know who they are, only that... what they took was in Venturil. There was a scene of carnage, though no body was found..." The wizard struggles to control his surging emotions, but his will is strong. He remembers Kasyr speaking about a naga, and his earlier thoughts that eluded his grasp finally connect home. He offers a brief smile that never quite reaches his eyes, before speaking again. "You are on no goose chase. If you know anything... or can help... Kasyr would be grateful, I know, as would I and all of Frostmaw, including those who defend the city, such as The Eyrie and The Knights... if you can help, Saiyah, many allies you would gain." He is perhaps rather pragmatic, but nevertheless his words were true.

Saiyah grins with her back to the wizard. Always nice to know her source of information was just as reliable as ever; dark corners in drunk-littered pubs. Someone was always talking, and of course, she was always listening. When you lived a life in silence, it was only natural to listen to what people had to speak, if only because you couldn't. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed the words on the page were silently shifting, and rearranging into a sentence anew. If not, she'd point at it anyways. While he busied himself with that, she took to setting a small jar on the cavern floor, sparking an ember to life with another snap of her fingers. In seconds, it blossomed into a healthy fire, illuminating the dully lit area, as well as providing moderate warmth. This was where her illusionary magic came into question; albeit a fake flame, why did the warmth it provide, feel so real? The note simply read, 'Although I appreciate the gesture, and incentives, I am only here to test myself. Too long since the last one. Too long since I've felt alive.'

Svilfon watches Saiyah as she gives birth to the flames that seemed to offer such high promises of warmth, but here, so close to his home, such spells do not fool the wizard. He doesn't feel their warmth, even as he moves to warm one of his hands above them. Maybe he could feel it, perhaps, just dancing there. Ignoring it, he looks down and reads the shifted letter. He could understand the meaning behind them rather well. He understood that testing how alive you were often came at the cost of seeing how close you can come to death. "There is information already about that has come from those who have scouted. It is hard to know much is true without first visiting there myself.. but.. I cannot yet.." He frowns, then. "It is better for me to stay here a while longer." He doesn't speak of the reasons why. "But if you know of Venturil, I can arrage something to fly you there." He grins then, despite himself. He'd never seen a naga try to fly a dragon before.

Saiyah cringed. He'd just have to keep on dreaming, if he had hopes of seeing the naga 'fly'. The last time anyone got her that far off the ground, was Maladroit and his humongous bat-like wings. That ended in a crash landing, and a missing arm. -No thank you- she said, with a solid shake of the head. The note, 'Your confirmation is good enough for me, at least I know I have something worth wild to track.' The few runes hanging around her neck were rubbed with the tip of her thumb, ember-red lines glowing to life while a little more of their magic was spent. She had two- maybe three days tops, before they were used up, and her inner flame elixirs spent. Hopefully, that was all the time she needed to find what she wanted. 'If I may ask, what exactly was taken?'

Svilfon smiles again briefly; he cannot help but feel a shade of disappointment as his request to experiment on the naga is so flatly refused. But he expected as much. His eyes flick over the new words quickly; he is growing used to communicating like this. "I cannot teleport you there. Usually I would offer, but after yesterday..." He shrugs away the rest of his unspoken explanation. "A couatl was taken. Or perhaps two of them. They look like dragons, or flying serpents - large. "The wizard hasn't any real way to convey its length, so he just extends his hands as far as they can go and makes a kinda jumping motion to indicate many more times. "One of them, Emiur, was very close to myself and the Queen of Frostmaw. We hope he is alive, but are ready if he is not. We wish to track those who hunted him... but even then.. I do not know who they were and even if they are still close. But I suppose that is where you come in." He grins again, then. Crooked it is, flashing gaps and fangs in equal measure.

Saiyah shrugged. She only hoped she was still as good as she had once been. After all, it had been some years. Had the man been a telepath- which she was none to fond of -or even of the serpent family, alternatives to communication could have been met. Until then, magic and ink would suffice. 'Flying serpents, that I would like to see. Ventruile, you said? Should I start the my search there, or continue it here? Clearly this has been a bountiful treasure of information thus far, just how much more can I milk before the tap goes dry?'

Svilfon is about as telepathic as a twig. But he can read, so this will do. He nods along as he reads, before he speaks again. "I do hope you get to see them. Emiur is rather magnificent." The wizard tips his hat to the couatl before carrying on. "In truth, I have been a little isolated of late. I would suggest you speak to Kirien's sworn sword. The knight, Hildegarde. She might be able to aid you. Otherwise, I doubt you will find out much here. I will leave it to you, Saiyah. But I will find you again soon so you can share with me what you learn."

Saiyah swirled the coils of her tail around the jar of fake flames, and sank low. One last line would bleed into the page before she'd retire the conversation for the night. She needed to thaw out, and he most likely had his rounds to make, the fact that he took the time to fill her in with this much, was a blessing. At least she knew she was on slightly the right track. For now, rest, in the morning she'd start her sliver of the investigation. The note simply read, 'I'll keep both eyes and ears peeled. Thank you, friend of Kasyr's.'

Svilfon responds with nothing more than a tip of his hat, before he turns on his heel and walks back outside. He would hunt her down again soon, though, and make true his words. But for now he would continue wandering through Frostmaw Village, very deeply in thought, but happy also to have recruited such a reputedly fine tracker as the naga.