RP:Conflict of Interest

Part of the Weave Your Own Fate Arc

Summary: Iintahquohae is surprised while studying in The Hanging Corpse by her former teacher, Daath. His lecture leaves her with a slight boost to her pride but also a bit of dread. The decision she makes is one she believes will be for the best, if only to help her to improve.

The Hanging Corpse

Iintahquohae is sitting at a table turned messy work desk. Entry to the Mage's Guild has brought out the inner scholar in her. A small stack of books that are clearly written for a beginner's grasp of the arcane as well as a few more, oddly, on various languages across Lithrydel are on the table, and she can be seen thumbing through one of them. The seamstress pauses occasionally to scribble down a note in the opened journal on the table, or take a drink from the mug of coffee at the table as well. It's mixed with blood, naturally, because Vailkrin – and it tastes terrible, judging by the grimace she makes every time she takes a drink. It's keeping her up. That's all that really matters.

Daath 's arrival is preluded by a sense of dread and foreboding. That feeling you get when something sends shivers down your spine, as if the atmosphere of this already infamous tavern has dropped suddenly in temperature damn well close enough for one to see their own breath. This effect is doubled in undead, especially raised corpses of a necromantic state. Vampires and lycans tend to feel a strange tugging due to the aura that wraps itself about the dark elf seemingly tries to pull upon the darker strings of the curses that run within them. Yes, the awesome power of this mark mage is a feeling that many try to avoid, but fewer still can ever truly match these days. Long has it been since Tenebrae has walked these lands, and every day that passes marks another that Tiphareth has stepped foot in the public eye, leaving Daath as the current most powerful practitioner of the dark arts within the land. His presence has been rare as of late, but that feeling, that aura of vile darkness that seems to suddenly smother the tavern signifies his return even before the laughing goblin head hearth twists and conforms to his will, elongating and rapidly growing in size as it becomes the portal in which the dark elf emerges into his once frequent haunt. A black robe falls across a lean body that is supported by a sight most familiar to any who know of the mage's guild, the xalious staff. The wood seems almost charred, and twisted either from heavy use or perhaps due to the vast amount of darker magical energies that it has served as conduit for, either way the once vibrant looking tool seems to have taken on a almost petrified look in recent years. The body has runic inscriptions carved into it, as the crown of the magical weapon has twisted about a large amber gem of unknown origins that holds within its crystalline surface a power that swirls about capturing ones attention like the still waters of the obsidian pool itself. Daath himself looks almost unchanged, a tribute to his elven heritage. His ebon skin flawless, his stark white hair cut and trimmed in a manner the fits him, and his eyes of a deep red peer out with an intensity that dares one to challenge him. Yes, the master necromancer, and magister templi, has returned. And what should his gaze settle upon first, after all the months? A familiar face, and one that he has received word of that wishes to join the ranks of his beloved guild no less. The quite within the tavern is broken by the magus moving towards the seamstress, the butt of his staff hitting the floor with a "thud!" with every step, and it is only moments before he stands before her, the small drow somehow seeming so much taller as he simply says. "It has been some time, Iintahquohae."

As the temperature abruptly falls, Iintahquohae's reading slows to a complete stop. Not bothering to mark her page, she instead snaps the book shut and her head jerks up, eyes searching out the source of the temperature change and the terribly unpleasant chill down her spine. She involuntarily shivers, even more so at the unnatural contortion of the hearth into a portal. Frozen in place, she squints, thinking she may have walked through a portal similar to this one long ago. The figure that emerges from it cements that thought. Daath. Great. She looks away, recalling their last encounter in which she made a complete fool of herself – Attempting to pass off a shoddy molotov cocktail for pyromancy, something that she doesn't intend to talk about ever again due to how embarrassing it was. The thuds of his staff and his footsteps reaching closer and closer to her elicit a slight frown. Sure, she's happy to see her former teacher, but sometimes the past is best left buried. Then he speaks. Avoiding his attention isn't an option, so she tries to make herself look more like her normally composed self. Like him, she hasn't changed much physically, though in her case it is thanks to vampirism. Hidden by her mess of curly hair is a small serpentine tattoo on the left side of her neck, tucked just behind her ear, but other than that, just the same tall, lanky seamstress. She forces her eyes to meet the drow's, along with a sheepish smile. “W-why yes, yes it has. ...I hope you have been well?” What can she say to him? “I heard you were married now. Congratulations.”

Daath examines the woman, for more reasons that one can truly see. Over the years he has developed a keen sense on seeing magic that lingers upon a person. When you deal with the arcane in the depths that he does one can learn there is almost a language to it, a pattern and way of being that can speak volumes if you are attuned to its nature. And so, as he examines her appearance, so too does he seem to check her for magical warding, protective spells, auras of power and like things of a mystical nature, so such things do not often sit quietly upon a person, oh no. They call out for all to see for magic is power, no matter how you use it. It is a mystical energy, and like lightning or fire it gives off a radiance that cannot be denied. Sensing that she naturally has some of these things, but that none seem of a familiar danger to him (he is a drow, everyone tries to kill you in Trsit'Oth), the magister templi replies to some, but not all, of her questions and remarks. " I've been well." Well, looks like he is only replying to the one, as he seems to wholly ignore the comment of his marriage entirely. Looking over her books, then back to her, he does say. "I hear you are once more looking to join the ranks of the mage's guild?" He doesn't let her answer, such in his way with neophytes of the arcane. Its also because he is of noble blood, and well, he can kill most anyone he comes across. Its not arrogance if you can back it up, yeah? "This is advised. Your talents were wasted for too many years." He looks over the entry level books she has, and rolls his eyes, before telling her. "Get rid of those. Starting today you are to restart your lessons with me, and you shall not need to know these elementary things, they are for children and those with lesser intellect that you." It wasn't a request, he was telling her. "You will need supplies, which you can find at the local shops here in Vailkrin, but everything else you shall leave behind. You've wasted too much time already, so be prepared to work harder than you ever have before and remember as always.." He pauses for effect, before settling his gaze down upon her with a most serious and intense manner. " Failure is never an option."

Iintahquohae's mouth falls open to interrupt Daath a handful of times and immediately closes afterward. Her eyes are wide with shock. He wants to try teaching her again? Even after her embarrassing actions? “...I'm an apprentice of Odhranos now,” she eventually says after the drow has finished. “I'm...well, I thought I was,” speaking with uncertainty isn't something that she is terribly fond of clearly. Her eyes go to the books she collected to study from, pursing her lips. “...a beginner, I suppose. I've discovered that I have a knack for imbuing objects with magic and just...understanding what something magical is by touching it. Despite this, and, well...when you taught me before, I feel that I should be at square one. I'm studying runic systems and various languages so I can try making a system of my own.” That being said, the seamstress looks up to Daath, puzzled. “I don't understand why you would want to take me back after before. I was an embarrassment,” Iintahquohae pauses again, frowning. Her damaged pride isn't something she really liked to talk about. Plus there were her long dead fleeting feelings that she had that one Quintessa drudged back up when informing her of Daath's marriage. This complicated things. Her silence doesn't last as long as before, though she speaks slowly, considering her words. “I'm planning to travel to Trist'Oth soon. To learn to speak Drow properly and if I can, learn whatever runic systems that exist there. ...And to eat something. Kasyr suggested I consume something particularly powerful to make the thing stuck in me awaken. One of Gospel's kin,” she explains. A snake and a sword, of all wretched things. “Mindflayers were suggested to me, in the Dead Caves.” Another pause, in which she tucks a bit of hair behind her ear. The seamstress isn't used to talking this much and it feels like mindless rambling. “Forgive me, Daath. I do not know if I can accept your offer, as much as I would like to. I'm already Odhranos' apprentice. I would be more than happy to learn from you. Anything you are willing to teach me. I'd go back to Trist'Oth with you, if that is where you intend to return,” she adds, looking to where the portal was. “I can't simply walk away from Odhranos, however.”

Daath looks at the woman like a child, more so due to his own upbringing but also because of how she was acting. She does not understand that Daath outranks Odhranos, and thus can take from him even his apprentices as he wishes, but also that if he wanted he could kill the man and just remove the troublesome situation entirely. Not an overly bad idea, if he was being honest. But Odhranos is a good mage, and capable and has been doing a lot in the absence of recognized masters, so his life has some merit to it. But more than anything, its this damn woman's attitude. "Do you really think I would come here and fetch you if I thought you an embarrassment? A failure? A waste of my time?" His tone holds no humor, he was asking her seriously. "You think so damn little of yourself, and you've no even tapped into your own potential. Yet you allow others, like Kasyr, to manipulate you into doing things that can kill you!" He almost snarls in disgust an anger for her allowing this. " Listen to yourself? "I must study the basics." And yet you tell me he told you to go "eat" a mindflayer? A creature of superb psionic abilities that even the drow in numbers have trouble killing? And yet you, who do not even speak drow, who has not mastered the arcane, think you can stroll down there and fight a monster that even I struggle with?" His mockery isn't intended to belittle, overly so at least, but open her eyes to the fact of how Kasyr is. The man just doesn't care about sanity, and often drags many with him into very serious situations of which even he has no control. Not to mention the man has obviously had something happen to him, he isn't as wholly reckless as he once was, and to someone like Daath that signals serious serious questions.

"No. You will not be venturing down to fight a mind flayer and eat it, because you're not ready for such things, and doing so does not make you somehow more powerful." The absurdity of that statement baffles the mage, because if it was true, mindlfayers would be extinct due to the drow killing them and eating as many as they could. He gets the vampire nature, even the ouroboros markings and the children of Gospel, the sentient weapon that is Kasyr's greatest failure and fear. One he wants others to clean up for him it seems. "If you wish to learn the tongue of my people I can have a tutor come and teach you, you seem adept and picking such things up quickly, and I am sure you will master it well enough." He studies her once more, saying. " But I will not allow this mindflayer nonsense, and if Kasyr has an issue with such he can come to me directly, if he isn't being a vagabond on someone else's couch currently." A mention of when he was staying at House D'Artes as a "guest" aka he had no where else to go.

“No, if you've a magical gift we shall further expand your knowledge of that, as well as make sure you embrace the gifts you have and stop allowing others to use you." He was reminded of Larewen, and the constant issue of having to build that woman up after she allowed man after man, and even woman, to break her apart. No, not this time. He lost Larewen to nonsense, and Valrae to happenstance. Iintahquohae will not fall victim to outside madness. "You are my ward, my apprentice and you shall realize your full potential under my guidance, unless you'd rather choose a lesser mage? And wonder always, "what if" when you continue to follow others and do not focus purely upon yourself. Wasted talent is such a terrible thing, but if that is what you wish, just so you may please others, then I won't stop you, nor shall I offer this again, for I demand all or nothing, and there are little to none who have my knowledge, power, resources and abilities to ensure you reach heights like you can only dream of." he stops, and lets that hang, because if she knows anything, she should know that he wasn't lying about that. " The choice, is yours, and you must make it now."

Iintahquohae would never let someone talk down to her in the manner normally, but she is clearly out of her wheelhouse. This is Daath, and despite what he's saying about her sire and...well, she doesn't know for certain about Odhranos, but enjoys working with him, he is correct about Kasyr. She never properly learned to be a vampire from him. He sired her and left, so she figured it out on her own. That being said, there isn't much to figure out. Drink blood, but don't drink dragon's blood, etc. The drow's words are a lovely boost to her pride, but being called out for her recklessness about waltzing down to the Dead Caves to drink the blood of a mindflayer or two is...well, as much as she dislikes it, he's right. Daath would know better than her, of course. She wonders if this reckless wanderlust is something inherited from the Coterie, but she hopes not, thinking with a wry smile that may mean she's subject to the animal ears and tails other members of her vampiric house had a tendency to have. “I made arrangements with the Warrior's Guild to assist me with traveling to Trist'Oth,” she says, mostly to herself. Arrangements can be canceled, she reminds herself. Arrangements can also be changed. The seamstress looks to Daath again. He doesn't seem like the type to change whatever he has in mind, but perhaps she can bend the rules a bit if she can. Iintahquohae realizes it may be unlikely to have it both ways. “You're absolutely right, Daath. I was your ward and apprentice first. I'll accept your offer with one stipulation,” this might be a deal breaker for him, but she had to ask. “I can still work with Odhranos. Not as his apprentice naturally, as I am yours, but he is researching the same things that I am. I would like to work with him in that respect only, if you would permit me.”

Daath knows very well the nature of people, and can see that having her learn a specific thing from someone already aware of such matters is not a wholly horrible idea. And she seems wise enough to realize he wasn't being a braggart, or allowing ego to fuel his words. When he first started learning magic, Rheven himself taught him many things, and then Tiphareth after. Tenebrae soon followed within that, and before he knew it he was standing among masters of magic and eventually was looked at as an equal. Tiphareth often leaned on his for many tasks, and Satoshi and he shared a bond through magic as peers. For some reason, the dark elf hopes one day Iintahquohae will sit beside him, a master in her own right. But, he'll never, ever, say that out loud. "Fine. But if I call you come, for I will not waste time, nor will I allow you to waste my time." Her training will be extreme, to make up for lost time, but she'll find that out later. This will also allow the magister to see how well Odhranos does as a teacher too, which can help the mage's guild as a whole. Still, he knows little of that man and his odd earth based magics. But, compared to himself Daath at least believes there are leagues between them. Hubris, perhaps, but the bodies that litter unmarked graves stand testament to the drow's powers. "I will send forth a tutor for you to start learning drow, as well as give you time to prepare yourself for your lessons. But you were, or are still, Coterie, so you know well that lessons are often harsh and dangerous, so I expect you to be well aware that time shall be made up in a manner I see fit." His only warning, and one he hopes she heeds. He sees greatness within her, and he refuses to see it squandered on nonsense. This land needs masters of the arcane flourishing once more, and in her, Daath sees one.

Iintahquohae is grateful that Daath will allow for this arrangement so she can still work with the terramancer, though her timid smile likely doesn't show that gratitude well. This is still Daath after all, and despite any past, long buried feelings she once had, he still intimidates her. She understands fully what she is setting herself up for, but also sees it as an opportunity. Greatness, power, and for all she knows, he may very well throw something at her that'll awaken Gospel's kin from her. That all being said, the seamstress' mood considerably improves. She'll do better than their last encounter, she hopes, absently rubbing the arm she set ablaze with one mishap that was entirely her fault under the drow's tutelage. Her head dips with a nod. “I'll come when you call, but don't take that as an excuse to treat me like I'm a dog.” Drow culture was something she knew very little about, but maybe her response wasn't wise. She hopes not. “I'll do my best to prepare,” her eyes sweep over the collection of books she has amassed. “..And stick my nose into books that are more suitable for the level you believe I am at, or should be.” The seamstress offers her hand, though it trembles slightly if one's eyes are sharp. “It is an honor to be learning from you again, Daath.”

Daath looks over to his new pupil and nods, listening to her speak and just saying. " Good, now go prepare and ready yourself, we shall begin tomorrow." And with that, the magister would turn to take his leave for now, as he too has to prepare for the things to come.