RP:Desiccation Suits You, M'Dear

Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc

Part of the In Darkness We Trust Arc

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

Summary: Larewen brings Goren to the Dark Forest and checks his loyalties.

The Dark Forest, Vailkrin

Goren was covered by most of the pilled up books, his hands above the pile as they ran absently over the top of the page, pushing against the page as he shaped out the letter and read quietly, he could read normally if he so chose, but when he was tired, it was difficult to keep up the magical projection that was his eyes, the withered hands sneaking back down to beneath the pile to pull out another book and lay it upon the table, flicking through the page in large handfuls as he searched for the page he'd dog-eared before, surprisingly, Steadmen didn't seem to care anymore, the undead becoming such a frequent occurance with his peculiarities that no-one even asked what he was doing anymore, though that was the way he liked it. He didn't want to explain the complexities of his magical oddities, nor did he want to recognise them yet, still searching for his salvation in the ancient tomes.

Larewen enters. Or rather, something enters. There appears to be no one - just a chilly gust of wind opening the door to the establishment and an unexpected malaise that settles in the atmosphere. That is really the only changes that come, the only sign of her arrival. She passes through tables and patrons alike, leaving some shuddering cluelessly as she approaches the books and the mage beyond. Stopping alongside Goren, she summons the strength necessary to casually materialize. Not physically, but enough for the ghoul to see her - or to think he's lost his mind, considering he can see right through her. "One never expects to miss the feel of a page betwixt their fingertips, but even in death dog-earring a page in that manner feels like sacrilege. Can you not use a tassel or slip of parchment to preserve the book, Goren?" she asks, and her voice comes sweetly and otherworldly.

Goren pokes his head from the pile and looks at her, the sockets bursting into the blue flames that usually light up his face, the gaunt figure pausing for a moment and shaking his head, "It's never quite as satisfying as knowing I have made my mark. No matter how many people read this now, someone will know that I have been at that point too, call it a kind of connection between scholars." He pushes the books onto the table and looks up at the woman, strumming his fingers on the table, "Hmm, you're lacking that pizas that I'm used to. Did that fleshwound finally do you in and I've gone crazy, or is this another of those necromantic tricks? Some sort of astral projection? Then again, that doesn't really sound necromantic." He scratches his chin, lost in his own thoughts for the moment and looking back, "Eitherway, wonderful to see you again."

Larewen snorts at Goren. His words are really quite apt, given that her ghostly form bears, in addition to Trajek’s wounds, a number of cuts and a gouge in the left side other throat. Someone certainly tried to do her in, anyway. “Future scholars will know -someone- perused the book. Not necessarily that it was you, if you don’t make a name for yourself,” the necromancer replies tartly. She eyes the undead mage, though it may not be nearly as menacing given her current state of incorporeality. “I need you to meet with Khitti - preferably sooner, rather than later. She has been helping me with guild duties, given my current state. And no, Goren. I am not dead yet.”

Goren looks at her and pauses, "You know, you're right, I should write my name on it somewhere." He chuckles and pulls himself upwards, leaning on the back of chair and strumming his fingers across the back of the leather, "Khitti? Like, a cat?" He scratches his head, "I didn't know animals had the abilities to manage a guild. Is it a familiar?" His hand traces the areas the cuts would be idly, "You know, you really should consider dessicating yourself." He lifts up his shirt to reveal the holes in his ribs that run from one side of his body and out the other, "At least then when you get beat up it doesn't look too bad. You look like someone tried to kill you with hedge-trimmers." He mimics the gestures of opening and closing the giant pair of scissors, waving his hand, "I'd offer you a drink but it'd go right through you." He smirks, "Get it. Right through you?"

Larewen wrinkles her nose and corrects herself belated, “Khatja. She is a member of my House, and like a daughter to me.” When he reaches a desiccated hand out toward her and his fingers trace those cuts, the necromancer sneers. She finds nothing in the action to be repulsing, honestly. Otherwise Trajek would make a poor lover, no? “These ones will heal, with time. Once my body is free once more, and I am able to regain control of it,” she replies, swatting at his hand. The gesture is of little use, though. Her hand passes right through his flesh and in response her lip curls. “Leaving your name is still pointless, if you’ve made nothing of it.”

Goren shrugged as he looked at her, "True. And they may heal, but you know you're in bad shape if not even the dead envy you Larewen." He strums on the table, "So what is the plan then. I can't say I've heard anything in the grapevine for the past few days. Or weeks." He nods, taking a seat upon the wood, "Then again, the people around these parts tend not to know much. Or their brains are degenerated to the point where it's just basic instinct, honestly it's hard to tell sometimes. I think it's the drinking that does it." He tosses back his own glass into his mouth, swallowing down the brew, "But yes, how are we going to rebuild the world in your image? You seem a bit, what's the term, preoccupied, to do anything."

Larewen’s curled lip widens into a sneer at Goren’s words. No doubt the necromancer is presently preoccupied and it has been weeks. She is every bit impatient as the words he speaks, but when one is without their body there is only so much that can be done without the help of others. At least, such is the case while she still figured out this form, her control of magic (limited as it presently is). “Come with me to the entrance to the Abyssal Forest. I need to show you something. Something that Khitja and Bradyn may need your help with as well.” The necromancer considers completeing her ghastly image with an extended hand toward the ghoul, but doesn’t.

Goren looks at her and waves his hand towards the door, finishing off his sandwich with a slight toss of the bread into his mouth, "Lead the way m'dear."

Larewen guides the ghoul out of Vailkrin, to its outskirts and along the path toward House Dragana. Only their path ends at the entrance to the forest, where her body stands vigil. Well, kneels really. In a pool of corrupted blood. Her death wound are visible, gaping and oozing. Heat emanates from her body and there is the telltale tha-thump of a beating heart within the vacant shell. Magic pulsates through the glowing, verdant runes engraved upon her flesh and that same blackened blood flows from them. Just beyond the kneeling form of the necromancer, a barrier stands in place and on the other side of it, a raging behemoth of an undead golem. It is practically bursting at the seams, barely able to contain the entity within. Likely, it coincides with the state of the necromancer’s body. “You ask how we will rebuild the world in my image?” she asks, after he’s had a few moments to study the magic presently at play. “First, we save it. Then we begin taking out those that oppose me within Vailkrin. We strategically place those that support me throughout the houses that remain when we are done. Then, we put me on the throne and we begin rebuilding what we once had."

Goren follows along behind and looks at the trees, humming as he runs his hands along the bark, "Interesting." He looks at the golem and hums softly, "Are you trying to kill this thing or keep it as a pet?" He could feel the toxic necromantic energies flowing through the air as it killed the very forest around them, but he did find it reinvigorating to say the least, "Sounds like a lot of work. Couldn't we just unleash this thing and then fix what's left."

Larewen responds with a shake of her ghostly tresses. “As much as I would love to release this entity into the world, into Lithrydel, it cannot be controlled. Vailkrin is first in the line of fire for destruction. The entity that resides within the golem is called Corruption, and is a remnant of the past. Something from the days of the Immortals - days when Solaris and Kaizer still walked and Khasad and Elazul still lived. It is something Lionel has fought before. If I release this thing into the wild, Frostmaw and Larket will see to it that I suffer for this travesty. We do not yet possess the strength or the order and organization to fend off the City of War, let alone Larket as well. It is Emrith’s fault that this creature has nearly attained freedom. I have made this known. Thus it will be at our hands, at the work of the Necromancer’s Guild, that this creature will be bound to a stronger prison - and Lionel will be here to see it done.” She flashes the ghoul a smile that is far too sweet to be without poison. “Under the guise of aiding others, we will build our trust and secure ourselves.”

Goren tilts his head back as the light in his eyes snuffs out, a soft dozing sound coming from deep in his chest as he snorts forward at the mention of the guild, "Oh, yes, sounds horrible. Can't let it free." He looks down at it and shrugs, strumming his fingers against his arm, "Look, as someone that delves around in minds a lot, if you knew this thing was evil why would you put it into a golem. Like, everything about that seems like a bad idea, what with the whole taking over the body, using it to destroy the world and such"

Larewen presses her lips into a thin line and folds her arms over her ghostly middle. “At the time, it was the only way of free Jarith from it. Presently, we do not know of a way to permanently destroy it. Imprisonment is possible. If I can bind it to a golem, if I can keep it at bay through this barrier, then I’d like to think, as a collective and with my current state in mind, we can create a prison that will hold it. I have a prototype envisioned that we will need to create and… test.” Though how to test it, she’s not quite sure.

Goren shrugs as he looks at her, "Well, I mean, I can't really think you can put it in a body, unless you can like, put it into a rat or something then keep this demon possessed rat inside a cage." He scratches his chin, "Do you need to destroy it? It sounds interesting to say the least, and the potential energy you could drain from this thing would be limitless, assuming you could do it without killing yourself, or it over-taking you." He just looks down, "I dunno. I don't work with ancient artifacts, that isn't my interest, but that being said, I can probably figure something out."

Larewen watches Goren in silence as he suggests precisely what she has planned, in addition to studying the entity. “I know this,” she states, simply. “Which is precisely why, as a member of the Umbral Council, I am sharing this with you. I have a type of prison in mind already. It’s a matter of creating it. Which will require Bradyn and Khatja’s aid, as well as yours.”

Goren nods as he looks down, "If you need it made out of flesh and bone, I can probably help. I've been meaning to experiment with flesh golems, but this, this is something else, the presence must deform it." He just shakes his head as he looks at her, "Well, let me know what the plan is. I'm always around the tavern or experimenting where-ever I can find supplies. Getting flesh to grow stabily outside a body is a difficult task to say the least.

Larewen responds with a nod and vanishes from sight.