RP:Diners, Dives and Droghan Tribes

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

Ernest sat at a table and waited. It wouldn't be hard to locate him. Pants and boots caked in mud and sand, hat tipped low over his face, chair tipped way back and leaning against the wall, one foot over the corner of a table. He'd been asked to sit up, and refused. It was pretty easy to tell that he was waiting on something or someone in particular, because every time the door moved, he reached up and tipped his hat up a little to look up and see who had entered or left. Thus far, though, he'd just as quickly dismissed the reaction and gone back to his relaxed position every time.

Joan made her way into the joint, the vampire merchant didn’t much travel out this far into Gualon, she barely even left Vailkrin or Cenril much of time anymore. Since most of her lessons and classes where contained either at the necromancers tower or the chapel of rest/unrest. Tho as she got the message to come down to the swampy city to see a certain mummy like fellow the vampire made the effort to come, shouldering open the door to this establishment with ease as she moves seeping into the redesigned shop, taking in all the new improvements with a curious glance before searching out the trench coat wearing Ernest, having spotted his cowboy hat once she really looked for it. “Evening there!” She’d call out as she draws up close to his relaxed seated position.

Ernest tipped his hat up, just like he had before. Although his demeanor didn't shift as much as it might have, he did at least grunt in acknowledgement and move his hat off his face. "Evenin' everywhere, I 'spect. Y'missed th' main event." He gestured to his boot, still covered, as he'd said, in mud. "Settin' up an experiment, figured it'd be jes' th' sorta thing yer interested in. Ain't any results t'record yet, though, so no real rush." Perhaps infuriatingly, that was where he stopped. His note hadn't been any less cryptic, either. Maybe he just wanted her to ask. The crooked smirk on his face definitely suggested he might be deliberately milking the suspense.

Joan scratches along the side of her nose as she eyes the mummified man, one brow raises upwards to show she was curious, “Okay...do I get to help in this any?” She ask before raising her hand towards the barkeep and calling for a cup of tea to be delivered to the table Ernest occupy.

Ernest shrugged. "Maybe. Ain't sure I'm keen on sharin' my precise technique jes' yet. Been workin' on some new minions, an' a man's got to have his secrets, y'know?" Dark fog billowed briefly off of the brim of his hat, and a shadowy hand emerged from the fog to wave at her. "Seen this one, yet? 's like my other Helpin' Hand," now a skeletal hand emerged from Ernest's pocket to give a thumbs-up before disappearing back into the longcoat, "but a li'l easier t' smuggle places. Good with spells, too." Little minions that one can comfortably keep hidden on one's person were the best kind of minions. "But I'm workin' on my next step up from there. Still ain't -quite- ready, but I got th' basics down an' some ideas fer advanced usage." He pulled a crossbow bolt from his longcoat and set it on the table. The shadowy hand quickly descended, reached out a finger, and began ever-so-carefully burning something into the shaft of the wood. "Today, I went out to th' swamp--an' further out, to th' desert--an' buried a couple bodies. No graves, jus' sand an' mud. Sand's what did this t'me," he rolled up a sleeve, revealing the skin of his arm like tanned leather, or possibly beef jerky, "an' even if I ain't th' spittin' image of beauty, I hold t'gether better'n a skeleton an' I don't smell near as bad as even some livin' folk, an' I didn't need any of yer fancy chemicals either."

Joan pulled out a chair near the mummified man as she gives the shadowy hand a thoughtful inspection, as her cup of tea is delivered to her the vampire would pull out the required copper coins to hand over to the orcish sever as she focus her attention on the more normal helping hand. Now and again she’d lift the spoon that came with the trap to stir the hot liquid as she tracked what Ernest’s shadowy helping hand does, sparing the man a glance of wonder before her attention is drawn to his leather jerky like exposed flesh. “That is quite the achievement there, did you show Miss Khitti?” She asked before pausing to take a sip from her teacup, swallowing down the herbal tea before using her spoon to indicate his ‘flesh’, “So you say, but my potions I’m working on through the healers guild are formatted to help knit dead flesh together as a whole, moving like living cell regeneration, just sped up.”

Ernest made a "sort of" gesture when she asked if he'd shown Khitti. "She's the one who got me on track t'makin' it. Somethin' tells me she might be less than pleased I'm usin' her oh-so-powerful shadow magic fer somethin' as mundane as a third hand, an' that I ain't bothered too much more with workin' it out any further." He certainly hadn't been doing anything like testing to see how big or how hot of a fireball he could produce with it, at any rate. That stuff got difficult in a hurry. The Hand gave him all the utility he needed, at least for the moment. Now that he had some basics, though, on reflection it might be a good idea to at least -look- in a more advanced shadow book... details to work out later. Potions to heal a dead body certainly seemed interesting enough. "Huh. How'd you manage that? Last I checked, only thing that grows outta dead tissue is mold."

Joan laid her spoon down on the tabletop as she now laces her fingers together as she places her elbows on the table, each elbow rested on either side of her teacup as she moved to lean her pale pointed chin on top of her folded hands, those eyes seem to brighten now, “You know how lizards can regrow a lost tail, or how a starfish can regenerate almost it’s entire body?! Well...I took that combined research and slowly started tweaking it by adding semi-active necromancy, low wattage death energy. You know that cool magical whisper of power we begin to raise as one begins to raise the dead, the zips-zaps, sparks, well if you keep the wattage low and use potions that healers use to close up wounds it works just about the same, only on dead flesh. Of corse there is properties in the potions to help promote the knitting like it’s lizard cells or starfish cells.” She tells her friend before lifting up her chin off her folded hands just so she can curl that hand back down around the teacup and take another drink. In that moment of pause she gives thought to Ernest’s shadow helping hand. “I have yet to meet with Miss Khitti again, I met her long enough to introduce myself and express interest in learning from her about control of the Black Tides.” She makes a face here before she carries on, “I don’t think she will be to bothered on how you use the Black Tides yourself, or how long you take in learning about your own personal control of them. None of us are really on a time table. I suggest we get together with her and ask about taking a trip out to the Shadow Planes, just as a learning experience field trip.”

Ernest raised his eyebrows and actually sat up straight, letting his boot fall off the table to the floor with a clunk and clink, the caked mud shattering a bit from the impact and leaving a mess on the floor. This was quite an interesting development, at least in general! Whether it worked on him or not, one could only hypothesize--he sort of doubted it, given how dried-out his body was--but the core concept of imbuing a liquid with magic and making it do Stuff seemed like it could potentially be Quite Useful--and even doable! He'd have to experiment. Might not be any more useful than just carrying enchanted items. But it was certainly worth thinking about. "I ain't a fan of portals. Nothin' good ever happens on th' other side, nothin' good ever comes out of 'em. I'll keep my boots on this side, thanks, but I'll hafta try some o' that potion-makin' stuff. I got all kindsa magic t'try an' stuff inta various fluids. One question, though--why's anyone puttin' lizards an' starfish in prison? Do healers do their best work behind bars?"

Terra was a healer and did far better work outside of bars but there was a time when she performed it within the confinement that Ernest spoke of. Tonight though, it was as open as the Gualon clinic could be. There was unrest with the orc tribes which was to be expected but that would be tomorrow's problem. Tonights was finding one of the most expensive bottles and vanishing it into it. When she shoved the door open, she had already started to pull the strap of her worn leather bag over her head so that it could be dropped on the nearest table. Did she anticipate running into Ernest here? No. Was she surprised? Yes. It flitted across her face, followed by recgonition but it would be a minute before she'd find her politician's pose as her priority would remain the bottle Gragh had already started to pull down from the top shelf. She held two fingers up- tonight needed a double, especially with those in attendance. Thanks to Orange, she has been ousted as a known companion of the Blue Demon, and thanks to said Demon, she knows about the history between the two now. That first drink taste made the smile come easy, dimples and all. "Fancy meeting you here," said in greeting to Ernest but she did briefly acknowledge Joan with a look and then, "and company."

Joan gave the mummified man a questionable look as she tilted her head slightly as she asked

“Putting them in prison? Behind bars? Lost me...No-no, I caught the starfish while I was out at the beach during low-tide, just plucked them up as needed and kept them in a tank...the lizards I caught in the wild, nothing is in a prison, just glass tanks and kept well cared for and fed, I’ll let the go after my studies are complete.” She explained before looking towards the new face, the woman looked tired but quite remarkable, Joan would offer a smile towards the other as the other woman greeted Ernest, the vampire healer slash necromancer sat back in her chair as she eyes her friend now, wondering what is going to transpire between the other woman and the mummy.

Ernest was now just as lost as she was. If there was no prison, why were cells involved? He gave Joan the sort of look that one reserves for people who you know aren't making any sense whatsoever, but then turned his attention to Terra--who, as it happened, was the other half of why he was in Gualon. The first was for making more mummies. There was also a smaller, third part of why he was here that involved pranking the orcs by throwing his voice and using orcish insults to start arguments, but that was just for personal amusement. "Here's where you said to meet, as I recall," he pointed out, kicking a chair out from their table as an invitation for her to sit. "Believe you mentioned somethin' about a job regardin' our mutual... acquaintance?" The shadow hand, by this point, had finished its little woodburning exercise and now spread its fingers over the crossbow bolt on the table, a faint, dark mist descending from it which would be cool to the touch, helping to make the bolt usable more quickly.

Terra was trying to split time between Vailkrin and Gualon so she may have missed Ernest if he had came into town earlier. That bag she had tossed was left behind as the seized the invite, drink in hand, and dropped down into the chair. For the majority of the day she had been 'on', greeting and healing, fielding questions about the actual governor of Gualon and her current status but here - who was here she need impress? Maybe Joan, so she does watch her for a moment until Ernest's shadow hand stole the attention away. "A job, yes, we can definitely find you one of those. Have one now actually. Ever heard of the Droghan Tribe?" They were a very rare breed of orc and also the reason her voice dropped a little. Gragh didn't need to hear this part. "I need to find their chief and I don't think he's alive. Some people are getting restless. You're able to bring them back, right?" She's still blurry on the details of what all he can do after that brief show but was certain this would fall somewhere in his wheelhouse. To Joan then, "Hello! Sorry to bring business to your table. Can I get you a drink, food?"

/ lightly pushes at her teacup once the other woman offered, “A refill of herbal tea would be greatly appreciated.” Joan would love some buttered flavored shortbread cookies but she doubt any could be found here, so she’d just settle with the tea. She’d offer the other woman a polite smile, as a thank you, meanwhile her silver chain around her neck would catch anyone’s eyes, as hung from the chain was a small badge. It showed a Phoenix-Fire Insignia the symbol for the Healers guild. It hung is plain sight, as Joan had no reason to hide it, it identified her as part of the guild as an official member. She may just be of novice level but she was still a practicing healer. Once she understood this woman and Ernest were going to talk business Joan asked, “Would you two prefer if I moved if you are going to discuss business? I think me and Ernest are done talking shop for now if that is the case?” She offers.

Ernest was -not at all- certain that bringing someone back from the dead was in his wheelhouse. "I, um. Hrm." When Joan asked if she needed to leave, he shook his head. "Not jes' yet, I gotta think about this. Might need that potion o' yers." Possibilities spun wildly through his head. "I cain't fathom what has you thinkin' I can -re-alive- someone," now he was talking to Terra, and he'd lowered his voice to match hers, "but I -can- definitely track someone down." Probably. Probably track someone down. He had some ideas for a crude locating spell he might be able to whip up. "I'll need a possession of his, though, an' his full name." Now that -that- part was out of the way, he steepled his fingertips. "Supposin' he ain't with us. Best I could do is impersonate 'im for a bit once I have th' body. What exactly d'you need 'im found for? An' supposin' he -is- alive, am I gonna have ta fix that? Maybe he's hidin' from ya fer some reason."

Terra missed Jacobo, her sidekick slash standby that would retrieve things like tea but without him, she is the one that cradled the cup as she stood and made her way to the bar. There was no excuse me given to Ernest because he could clearly see what she was up to. A brief haggle with Gragh and she'd procure the beverage, even if the barkeep did say something under his breath. Ah well, they go far enough back that he'd let it go. Joan's cup was returned with the refill. Ernest had already assured the woman that she didn't have to depart on their account so it was with ease that the empath rejoined the table. "He's their lead shaman and he didn't exactly get the chance to pass on the torch OR the sacred ring." She doesn't add that the sacred ring is located in the orc's nipple but that seemed like a small thing in the grand scheme of reanimation. "Either need you to bring him back to complete that piece of the ceremony or retrieve the ring." In the swamps, that wasn't always an easy ask, because word around the tribes was he was dead and gone.

Ernest made another "hmmm" noise. Seemed simple enough. If he was dead already, that'd make the ring retrieval easier than having to fight him for it; and if he was just missing... well, that actually led to some other unfortunate implications. Come to think of it, there was no guarantee they'd find the ring on his body, either. "Two questions." He held up one finger. "What if I find 'is body an' he ain't got that ring?" He held up a second finger. "What's this got t'do with findin' an' takin' out Shishi?" After all, wasn't that what this was about? He held up a third finger, as an afterthought. "Oh, an' you okay acceptin' an hourly rate on this? Locatin' a missin' person ain't always quick work."

Terra still had some left in her glass and made short work of it. Another was debated but the mention of Shishi had her pushing the glass away. "If he doesn't have the ring, we have bigger problems." We, as in Gualon, since that tribe was a key component to the peace that was found here as of late. "Then we'll definitely need him to... you know..." she mimed what she imagined a zombie orc would look like. There was the clink of her nails on the side of the now empty glass and she looked between Joan and Ernest for a moment. "Hourly may be fine but I'm not paying you to get your vengence. Shish or Titan or whatever he goes by," her eyes rolled with the effort it took to keep all the names together, "I can't help with that. I can tell you that killing him is not going to get you paid or get you friends. I definitely make a better friend."

Joan took her refill, sipped in a quite manner and was all ears as she listened in! Joan looked between Ernest and Terra, both brows raised as they spoke of Shishi, the younger vampire only just met the elder vampire not to long ago and already she heard stories and rumors...it didn’t also help that Joan was once a close confidant to Larewen, all Larewen was willing to depart about Shi’ was a grunt then change the subject whenever He was brought up in Joan’s company.

Ernest made a face at this new revelation. "See, an' here I thought," he reached out, shoving his arm through the shadow hand and dissipating it into smoke, and then nothing, and picking up his special new crossbow bolt and eying it, turning it over in his fingertips, "you weren't a fan of th' guy." He raised an eyebrow, there was clear disgust on her face when talking about him, what with the rolling of the eyes. "Still don't seem like y'are. Why bother protectin' 'im?" Rather than give her time to answer the question, he instead tossed the bolt into the air, snapped his crossbow into his hand with a lightning-fast quickdraw, spun it once, reversed it, then flicked it behind his back and tossed it up into the air, too, without even looking. "An' before you ask," now he reached out and caught the weapon, which had intercepted the crossbow bolt in mid-air in such a way that it had somehow cocked and loaded itself, "I'm still takin' th' job."

Terra is not a fan of the Titan or Blue Demon or whatever combination of that came together to form the public persona. The feelings regarding Shishi himself were kept closer and not even Ernest would get an insight on those. As he manuvered the crossbow, she pondered if that was supposed to be a subtle reminder that he may be willing to deal on the business end now but eventually, his desire for revenge would overwhelm that. No matter. Whatever history existed between the mummy and the other vampire would remain between them. Terra's place in it had been clarified, clear as mud. "Good. I'll draw up a contract and leave it here for you." The blonde vampire stood then, pushed the chair back under the table and gave a small smile to Joan. "I hope we meet again and get a chance to get to know each other." She was, above all else, here to make connections. "I'm around if you need anything." That was for either of them and if there weren't any additional questions, she'd gather her bag, pay the tab and depart for the Governor's Estate.