RP:Balance is a Sickle Thing

Ancient Tunnel

Jextar walks in and sits down on the ground, exhausted. He knew something was calling him here but didn't know what. He was exhausted. And couldn't be moved until he was ready.

Satoshi moves through the battlefield like its many long deceased inhabitants, half-visible and enshrouded with dancing wisps of mist and frost, drifting across the snows with ethereal grace. Such is the way the foxkin travels through the dangerous lands of Frostmaw's heart, careful not to provoke the lingering souls of warriors forgotten in ages past. Small, frail, and white-clad as she is, Satoshi has always been adept at passing herself off as a wayward spirit herself. The aura of fog that shadows her every move only adds to the effect, so that it would appear like a ghost is approaching Jextar, moving over the crimson-stained snows without leaving a dent upon them from its passage. "Oi~," the magus calls out in lilting tones, the sound more lyrics than word, "Trespassing, are we~?"

Jextar lifts his head and gazes across at the Queen as she approaches. "My apologies." Stands up and bows. "I didn't mean to trespass. I was being pulled here by something."

Satoshi pauses once she reaches the human, a ripple running through the mists surrounding her as they settle into a shimmering cloak. "Tread carefully. These are dangerous and sacred lands." A note of frosty emphasis is place on the pair of words before the kit looks down the tunnel, a faint frown creasing her features. "Pulled here, you say? And what es it you're feeling, exactly?"

Jextar said to Satoshi, "I feel... A pair of magical presences coming from inside. May we proceed further?"

Satoshi continues to stare down the tunnel's length, expression thoughtful. "That depends. How does it call to you? Demanding? Coaxing? Inviting? There is great evil lurking in those halls, and great good too. There is enough of the former running rampant in these forgotten lands without awakening more of it."

Jextar concentrates on the presences calling to him. "One calls in a gentle manner, the other seems evil."

Satoshi murmurs, "Hrm. An entity of Balance, then. I've a guess." With this, the vulpine vampire nods, her chin jerked toward the tunnel's end to indicate Jextar carries on. "Be wary what you touch upon entering, much is guarded by divinity in its multiple degrees."

Jextar walks to the north.

Jextar exits north.

Ancient Crumbling Steps

Satoshi's whiskers begin to quiver, resonating with the myriad strands of magic that exist in the temple above. Almost eagerly, the foxkin's strides devour the distance between tunnel floor and waiting threshold. Here is a place of sanctuary for the magus, a place few are able to find, and few are able to survive reaching. While not a sentimental creature, Satoshi holds a special place in her heart for this temple. It is here she gave up her life with the promise of eternity in death with Kasyr.

Temple of Judgement

Jextar climbs through the trapdoor and the hair on his head stands on edge under his hat. He points north. "There." He walks toward where the presence calls him.

Jextar said to Satoshi, "Ladies first."

Satoshi shakes her head and trails behind the human, content to let him seek out what calls to him while she pads through the halls. Claw-tipped fingers trace the various carvings that cover the walls, pillars, and shelves, intimately familiar with every line and curve. "You walk in the temple of the God of War. Light and Shadow both thrive here, but it is the gray between their white and black that reigns, holding all in the sway of Balance. Avoid tipping the scales, and Aramoth will have no reason to remove you from his shrine."

Jextar nods and climbs upwards.

Temple Balcony

Jextar said, "Look at the view. I could sing a song about this."

Satoshi leans against the balcony's railing, pausing a moment to smile down at a chunk of stone missing from its once smooth surface. That mark was her fault, but she doesn't regret it. To Jextar, the kit murmurs, "It is best not to sing songs about places meant to be unknown. You would sentence this sacred place to abuse, theft, ignorance, and all else the foolishly nosey bring. And in turn, by Frostmaw's law I'd be forced to sentence each to death for descicrating ancestral land."

Jextar feels the presence move. "It feels like it's in the middle of the air now. Look!" Points to the air in the middle of the balcony as a giant snowflake falls and explodes revealing twin hand sickles made of rune. They seem to contradict each other in color. One is black, the other white.

Satoshi glances back to watch the sickles manifest before quietly commenting, "Aye, I know those blades. They once belonged to one of Sage's most stalwart defenders. It'd seem the airs here have altered them. Purified or corrupted, I cannot say, but altered nonetheless."

Jextar walks slowly up to the blades and picks them up, swinging them gently. "They speak to me. They want to me to take them." Seems confused. "I am only a humble bard. Why would they choose me?"

Satoshi shrugs without turning around. "Boredom? Curiosity? Whim? Fate? There are a thousand possible answers. If you're meant to know, you will in time. I've found it does no good to argue when a weapon chooses you." The briefest glance goes to the ice-carved katana at her hip, the blade voicing a faint trill in response. "They're as persistant as the seasons."

Jextar stares at the blades, sits down and continues to stare at them. He studies every single detail becoming clear. "These blades are amazing. I must train on these so I can use them effectively." Looks at the queen. "Has anything become unsettled now? Is it safe?"

Satoshi idly picks at the groove carved out of the railing, speaking without looking at Jextar. "They are interesting, oui. Sentient, I think not, but unusual nonetheless. And yes, all feels safe. A piece of the shadows and a piece of the light departed together, the balance is not interrupted."

Jextar said to Satoshi, "With your permission, I would like to come out here to train in the ways of light and shadow."

Satoshi said to Jextar, "This is a sacred temple, a place of worship, not a place of training. You would benefit best from seeking out followers of the dark or light, and training under them each, if you wish to tread the path of Balance. The Paladins Redovian and Valiana both serve gods of the Light, Cyris and Arkhen, and are both skilled warriors. There are numerous vampires, undead, and drow in and near Vailkrin that serve the God of Death. My husband might also be willing to train you in the arts of darkness and balance." Pausing, the kit looks over her shoulder at the bard, "Have you considered entering Gualon's revival tournament? You'll gain endless training during that event."

Jextar said to Satoshi, "Tournaments aren't my kind of thing. I may watch though. For now my skills will be used to train on these specifically."

Satoshi nods. "Use them well. They served their guardian of Sage dutifully, even if he did fall to the Eldermage in the end."

Jextar frowns. "I'm sorry about that."

Satoshi blinks, shifting so that she's seated atop the railing and looking at the human. "Hm? Sorry? I'm not sorry. The man was a fool that challenged a being far stronger than himself. The Eldermage is an ally and friend of mine, he always has my support. You should be glad Patron Tiphareth didn't decide to destroy Lirithen's weapons after slaying him, else your hands would be empty now."

Jextar said to Satoshi, "I'm sorry the last owner of these died. These are wonderful weapons. And I am quite glad they had the chance to be enhanced."

Satoshi said, "Never be sorry about death. It is the unavoidable, it is a fact of existence, it rules every being from ants to gods. Death has granted you a gift in these weapons. Perhaps they'll lead you to fortune or fame. Perhaps they'll lead you to the same fate as their last owner. Whichever it is, they are a gift still. Use them well, and mayhaps they'll serve you well in return."

Jextar bows to the queen. "As always you are wise. I will use them carefully."

Satoshi shrugs, a smirk creeping onto her features. "When you've danced with Death a few times, you learn a trick or two~. I wish you luck with the weapons. Unique as they are, you'll find few masters that could train you in their ways. You'll have to adapt to learn. Until then, happy hunting." Without another word, the kit leans backwards into empty air, where her body hovers a moment before vanishing. Nothing more than a flurry of snowflakes are left where the magus had been seated.

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