RP:Guild Smalltalk and Shadowplay
Part of the Venturil's Bane Arc
This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.
Freak & Pet Shop, Vailkrin
The room is filled with a thin layer of smoke, nothing too horrible. As you look about you see various cages and glass cases, most of the containing beasts of different types, several of them freaks of nature, containing more than one head, and others with body parts magically sewn onto them, but completely usable. As you glance to the small man behind the counter in the back of the room, he reads through a book with pictures of various animals, noticing you, he looks up and smiles widely. The little man stands nearly five feet tall, and has no hair, his flesh is slightly darker than normal, and you cant seem to tell what race he may be. A list hanging above the counter shows what animals are in stock to buy.
Cerys had been wandering the streets of this particular city to try and get a sense of nostalgia for her former homeland. Judging by her recently purchased attire, she fit right in with the color scheme, donning a monochromatic style for her clothes: black. Cliche as it may be from her desired vocation, the budding necromancer had a hard time breaking the life-long habit. Of all the animals with their extra limbs and attachments, her face doesn't change much from its apathetic stare, though her eyes move surely more, as one moves to look at a rat with two heads, the next specimen on her mini-tour, and the other looks to the shop-keep, whose race she was still trying to identify. She blinks constantly to get the pesky, bright green things back into alignment. Presently, her hair is down, covering her ears, though her high cheek bones and lithe physique could give away her race easily enough. Over her shoulder she carries a makeshift sack with a large dark spot on one side that is starting to smell rotten, while her other arm cradles a red-wrapped bundle.
Daisy tends to be a beacon in these parts. Hey! Look at me! I don't belong! What am I up to? Yes, that sums it up just nicely. So why here? Why Vailkrin? And why, oh gods why this crazy pet shop? The kitten has a sack of her own, you see. A small sack in a small box that is placed on the counter while she waits for the shop's owner to give her some attention. What does one do when they find a curious animal creature? Take it to the curious animal creature store. Cerys is spotted and eye contact is made. Polite kittens are polite and offer smiles and little waves with little paws. No one look at her stumpy tail! She is still sensitive about that.
Valentin tromps into Crawyn's emporium of annoyin' critters, a slightly more dour expression on his face than usual. The butcher hoped that he'd live long enough t'see Lorkain dropped in a bleedin' volcano. Th'feckin lich seemed to have caught onto the idea of using even advanced students as gofers. He'd bet anything that bitch Tenebrae was behind it. It'd be just like her to promote him, then make sure nothing changed except th'blimmin' workload. And now, despite having several tasks already underway, studies in Haruspicy to prepare for, an' a blimmin' 'prentice to look after, here he bloody was. With Lorkain's shopping list and the means to obtain them. With his typical directness the butcher thumps the list down on the counter. "Necromancer's guild business. Lorkain wants these. Probably ran out o'blimmin' food or somethin', an' forget what food was, so took a blimmin' guess." Valentin knew Lorkain needed them for re-animation classes, but he couldn't give a toss. "An' apart from th'little critters, I'm t'come back later for th'hippogryff" Valentin adjusted the strap which held the oversized monstrosity of a cleaver habitually carried by the vampiric butcher. It wasn't the first time he'd butchered a large beast or bird, but the two combined would take some extra effort, and that could bloody well wait. Lich or no lich, Valentin was a busy man. Nonetheless, out of the usual caution Vailkrin required of one, he took a moment to gauge the other patrons. The lady in black could have been any number of Vailkrin's denizens, but the young feline... so, she had been careful after all. Valentin nods to Daisy "Well, kitten. I see you ain't got et, then. Job well done, innit." Crawyn, in the meanwhile, would take the list and head out to a sideoffice to begin the paperwork Lorkain required for these transactions.
Cerys 's blinks to focus her eyes on the feline who seems more energetic for this part of the lands, if the bare glances she'd seen thus far were an accurate portrayal. Her lips press into a line and she gives Daisy a short nod of acknowledgement, though one of her eyes can't help but flick toward that stump. What was one supposed to say to such a greeting? Was one supposed to say anything at all? Her nostrils flare as she struggles with the answers. Too long traveling, she figures before she opens her mouth to make an attempt at civility. That is interrupted by a aproned man barging into the shop with the most bizarre facial hair the elf has ever seen. Daisy's stump is forgotten as both the woman's eyes sync up to overtly stare at the ginger chops. With the first words out of his mouth, Cerys' pointed ears perk high enough to peek from underneath her hair. At first she listens, evidently curious, and then one of them addresses the other, such strange folk. The words pop from her mouth before she can rein them in, "The two of you...are familiar with each other?"
Daisy turns her back towards the counter to hide her little mishap in the woods. "We're the best of friends, we are." She exaggerates to the woman while grinning up at the man. "I'm alive at least. Maybe not whole, but alive." Her eyes shift back to the little sack in her box that starts to humm. It is quiet at first, but then gets louder. If you pay attention, it looks like someone is poking a sharp knitting needle out of the bag. This happens quite a lot, hence the box for carrying.
Valentin grunts to Cerys "I tend t'notice th'more unusual things what end up 'ere. I'd been expectin' t'find her pelt on sale within a week of her droppin' by this plaguepit of a city. Ain't uncommon, even if th'place has been torn apart a few times recently." With time to kill, as Crawyn would be a short while on Lorkain's paperwork, Valentin decides on smalltalk to pass the time. "I'm Valentin. Thanadule o'the Necromancer's guild. An' what's your name?" Beneath the butcher, Valentin's shadow stirs, and extends a tendril to the shadow beneath the box which was making noises reminiscent of the sounds his gravewyrms made in their steel carrycase. Nodding to Daisy, Valentin replies "Folk get real careless these days, I notice, leavin' bits of 'emselves all over th'blimmin' place. No wonder cleaners don't like their blimmin' jobs."
Cerys is silent a moment, an oddly long moment as she considers something. Her left eye, which seems to be the rude, curious one between the two, shifts toward the box and sack, swiveling every once in awhile when the needle poked in a different place. The right, more polite of the eyes, stays gazing up at the Butcher and down at the feline, alternating between them. "I am sure I will see odder things as time goes on... Do you prefer being a manx?" she replies to the feline before addressing the vampire. "You are of the Necromancer's Guild. I am seeking further instruction in those arts... Therefore my name is Cerys, currently titleless. Others will call me Lalki, however. You may pick whichever you prefer to call me."
Daisy 's paws quickly cover her rear end. "It's not my fault the drow is crazy!" Her eyes widen. Such an outburst, kitten. Tsk tsk. Seems you aren't so safe in these woods afterall, hm? Store that woman's name away for later before turning to your box and... That shadow. She glances to the pair before poking the shadow poking her box's shadow. So much poking. You remember this creature, don't you kitten? How fun!
Valentin scratches a shaggy muttonchop "Well, seems her most puissant bitchiness is recruitin' these days" And lumped the last Novus Morior on him, no less, the bitch "So I reckon it won't be too much of a hassle t'arrange a meetin' twixt you an' the Thanatos Domina." Valentin pondered a moment. "She's a temperamental one..." Emphasis on 'mental', as far as the butcher was concerned "...an' the best approach is t'come prepared t'show off a bit o'what you've already learned, so's she can figure out who'd be th'best match as an instructor. Tenebrae may be a blimmin' nutter, but she's the most skilled an' powerful necromancer I know, followed closely by the Magister Letum Leifong, an' I seen firsthand tha' she knows her stuff." Mention of is own 'teacher' prompts Valentin to offer a piece of vital advice "Oh, an' be feckin' careful around Leifong. He's as like t'kill a 'Prentice as teach 'em, if they can't survive 'is methods." Daisy's outburst tells Valentin everything he needed to know. "You stupid kitten. You're jus' like blimmin' Tysinni. Only th'suicidal go tanglin' wi'feckin' Kuzial. The bastard's a grade A berserk lunatic." The suicidal, or those skilled enough to survive his assault, Valentin mentally clarified, but it was a clarification which didn't seem worth vocalising just yet. "Y'might as well have jus' jumped into a mincer y'self, y'silly girl. Lucky t'be alive, you are." Valentin's shadow, affected apparently by a chance ray of lanternlight, appears to crack open a pair of eyes, the flickering candle inside the lantern giving it the the appearance of winking. Less explainable was the grotesque cheshire grin which seems to almost split the head of the shadowy silhouette in two as the tendril of shadow seems to twist about to avoid Daisy's poking.
Cerys 's near invisible brows go up toward the butcher with evident interest. "Really?" She turns her head, and both of the eyes, toward the dingy sack. Perhaps she would spend the next few days brushing up on her circles... As for his advice, she give another short nod, storing away both the names and observations. "Arranging a meeting would be greatly appreciated, yes." She pauses, an inquiry making its way from her mind to her lips. "Define 'careful' if you would..." Considering she wasn't presently moving at the moment, the girl gently lays the sack upon the ground, though she doesn't let go of it as if ready to hoist it up at a moment's notice. "Do not most drow act this way to surface dwellers? Or is this one particularly aggressive over his brethren?" Cerys asks, becoming conscious of her ears. She lets go of the sack for a moment, to adjust her hair accordingly, better layer it over the points so they would remain hidden. The shadow draws the attention of her left eye, and the right jerks after it, far from a unified motion. "What exactly is in that bag?" she asks.
Daisy snatches her paw away from the shadow with a giggle before prodding at it a bit more. The eyes and grin are noticed. Curious kittens certainly are curious, so she leans forward a bit until her nose is nearly poking at the shadow. "I was minding my own business and there was a disagreement." She pads a paw at the shadow again before shifting her gaze to the woman desperately trying to hide her elfishness. "A humming bird."
Kyperion slid out of the largest shadow the shop had to offer. Looking at Valentin, he said "Did you know that there's a small shop in Cenril that does nothing but breed goats of specific colors, simply to cater to Tenebrae's whims?"
Valentin grunts "Careful is what you do so as t'not end up inside-out or an experimental subject wi'your innards pulled out in interestin' patterns. Careful's pretty damn self-expanatory, luv. Competence and Caution is the motto of them what survives in the guild." Oh, and insanity, apparently, from the state of his superiors. But she'd find that out herself - no reason to completely ruin the mysteries of life and unlife. "An' most drow are touchy gits, it's true, but Kuzial has th'skill an' power to end most surfacedwellers, an' enjoys doin' so. Many heads ha'fallen to that one over time, I'm told. Kuzial an' I once had cause to rip a few holes in each other, out Kelay way, when the stupid bint Tysinni went an' picked 'is pocket like a blimmin' moron right before I needed her for a task. So I know how fast th'banker is. An' a couple o'spear wounds ain't enough t'slow 'im down once he's in th'mood for killin' - which is most of the time, from all accounts. So jus' stay clear of th'banker where possible if y'want t'keep all your bits about you" this advice was also imparted to Daisy, in the hopes of reinforcing the notion. He was about t'say more, when his new apprentice showed up. "Novus Morior. I know for a blimmin' fact that ain't the case, but I can imagine th'banker that runs the place lied nicely to make a better sale. How much did y'pay?" Valentin pauses a moment to nod to the others "This is m'Prentice. He can introduce himself." Valentin returns his gaze to Kyperion "Good work in findin' me. I'm here on a task fer Lorkain, but afterwards we'll have a chat about the next task on our hands." Valentin jerks his thumb at Cerys "She's likely goin' to be learnin' alongside you in Lorkain's classes, but the Thanatos Domina will likely find a different teacher for her than I, unless her skills are particularly compatible t'mine. An' Cerys, this bloke here is a new member of the guild. Might as well get t'know each other now."
Kyperion smiled. "Hello, Kitten." Turning to the elf, he added "Kyperion," and extended his hand to shake.
Cerys :: "Duly noted, sir. My thanks for the advice," she says, making an inner note to avoid all the drow she could if possible. If there was one thing her mother's tales impressed in her, it was that her race and theirs were the furthest thing from friendly cousins. Overall, her impression of the lands, and the guild itself were becoming better shaped, and either one would not be boring. Her lips quirk ever so little at the notion, but it quickly vanishes. Her left eye flicks toward the source of the strange voice, the right not following and staying fixed on that odd shadow and bag. "Odd place for a humming bird. Do you intend on feeding it to the shadow or the shop keeper?" It is now that the elf blinks to center her gaze on the newly arrived apprentice. Her arm shifts to better accomodate the red-wrapped bundle and her fingers wrap themselves in the fabric of her own makeshift sack. "Pleased to meet you Kyperion. I am Cerys, as he says. Do you enjoy your classes? Or...goats for that matter?" she asks, no hint of humor in the blonde's queries, though there was momentary hesitation in front of certain words. "What are your skills that they are compatible with those of your master?" Her right eye flicks down to his extended hand while the left stays centered on the human himself. She holds her gloved fingers out to his and gives it a somewhat stilted shake.
Daisy seems to know almost everyone, seemingly. Kyperion is given a friendly wave, but she stays back a little, content in playing with this odd shadow while the other three -who seem to have loads in common- have their little chat. The likes of her will only be in the way for sure. "This one drinks blood." Cerys' question is answered.
Kyperion hmmed. "My skills are more subtle, but do fall into the same general catagory. I haven't had any classes, and I enjoy goat cooked with mango, on a kebab." One of the few things he missed about Traumain. "Uh...well, it wasn't a shop persay, more of a little cart with goats tethered, and the man running it definately wasn't a banker. I paid a few dozen copper, which I made by picking pockets on my way there. The goats weren't dyed, which seemed like a fairly compelling arguement in his favor. Why else does one have a set of one colored goats, with no mixed in the bunch?"
Valentin grunts. Figures he'd be given a rube for a 'prentice "A few coppers? I hope th'mistress doesn't need th'blimmin' thing for long. I take it y'haven't been t'Cenril all that much, guv, so let a local give you a pointer: anyone there sellin' anythin' is a crook of some sort. If y'pay that much for livestock, then there is somethin' blimmin' wrong with it. Either it's on its last legs an' has been tarted up wi'some cantrips, or it's carryin' some kind o'illness likely t'taint the meat or spread t'others in a herd. I'll have t'check it out later. If we're really lucky, the bastard had just stolen them, an' wanted to offload 'em quick on some dupe." Valentin turns to Cerys "Shadows, luv. The Umbral tides an' th'dark elements. My talents, when not tendin' shop, lie in makin' darkness deadly. A lot o'folks who turn t'the dark arts have some knack for the shadows an' a morbid outlook. An' it seems it's now my job t'make th'bastards more deadly in the art o'drawin' forth an' bindin' the more powerful dark energies, from which th'basic shadowmancy cantrips folks use unwittingly gain their abilities. So, the Novus Morior has been assigned t'me t'learn th'correct use o'the sigils an' secret cant necromancers use to manipulate the forces we work with." Valentin scratched his jawline "One's innate talents for th'dark arts can be expanded upon w'study an' innovation. Now, me, I've only been at it for several decades, an' most o'those years were a specialised kind o'training" Torture, in fact, by the perverse whims of the vampire who had necked him all those years ago to be warped into some kind of necromantic bodyguard/pit fighter, but Valentin was well out o'that mess. "So I'll not be teachin' reanimation, curses, or any o'that muckity muck wi'potions an' so forth. But I can stare down th'likes o'Kuzial an Kasyr wi'shadows in reach, an' walk out o'the exchange. It's all about focusin' on what you're good at. But you'll need t'learn all the basics. Lorkain does his best to torture the students, after all. The blimmin' lich is only still there because its the easiest way to torture many people at once, day in, day out, with but his presence an' 'orrible lack o'Personality." Daisy, in the meanwhile, would hear a slight whispering sussurration in the air as Valentin tapped into one of his own talents, and gave physical form to an element of his shadow through a whispered cantatus of umbral binding. The shadow would poke her back, aiming for what in children is often a ticklish spot. Valentin's shadow is a distinct contrast to the butcher's dour expression, sporting an almost malevolent head-splitting grin.
Cerys 's lips press together at the consistent mention of goats. "If I may ask, why was it you were fetching colored goats to begin with?" she asks of Kyperion. While her left eye observes the talk of goats and such, her right looks cants itself toward Daisy and her shadowy activities. "A vampiric hummingbird...?" Her left eye does flicker toward that one. When the butcher of many talents begins to explain his specialty, that left eye seems to be spasming between the vampire's shadow and the vampire itself, while the right stays steady. It was giving the woman a regular headache, but she bore through it without blinking once. "And here I thought shadows belonged more to illusionists, dimension jumpers, and the like," she comments with more than polite interest finally coloring her voice. "As for learning basics...currently I have built what skills I have out of self-taught scraps of knowledge from my father. I am hungry for proper instruction of any kind. Personality, or no, I have a high threshold for pain, and I guarantee you I will be paying close attention."
Daisy actually squeals out a little giggle as she is prodded. Prod. Pr... Tickled! Maybe she isn't a child, but that doesn't mean things aren't fascinating to her. Dark things with creepy little grins that could mean a thousand different things at once, but never the thing you think it is. "I think it is peculiar too." The bird? The shadow? Maybe a little of both. Testingly, she extends an arm and hovers her paw over that playful little shadow. She could regret it, but the story will be amazing! Not wanting to spook the shadow, her paw is slowly lowered until the soft pads can gently pet the creature. Is it a creature?
Kyperion watched the feline poke at things, while squealing. It was somewhat unnerving, somehow. Turning his attention back to his new master he nodded. "Okay. Don't pay money for things. This would be easier if I had a guild seal to flash; those seem to get attention pretty damn quick." Turning to Cerys, he added, "Goat's for a ceremony. The Mistress deman- requested an all black billy, and thus I was sent looking. Now," Kyp said, looking at the two. "Is a lesson forthcoming?"
Valentin scratches at his stubbled jawline some more. Explainin' things like this was goin' t'prove a nightmare. The butcher would bet Kyperion's left kidney that this was all part of Tenebrae's elaborate punishment for him having been, strictly speaking, directly responsible for exploding her pet gaunt and bringing her back here. Still, he had one Novus here, an' one prospective one, so he might as well get started on his new duties. He'd get his Guildmistress back somehow. He always did. "Bes' way I can put it is like this: Necromancer is a term kind o'like 'Mage' or 'Tradesman'. One word to cover lots o'professions. All people who dabble in Reanimation are Necromancers, but not all Necromancers are dabblers in reanimation, y'get me?" Valentin mentally gropes around for a more relevant analogy than the one he was about to give about carpenters and stonemasons "So, wi'mages, y'got varieties: Fire mages draw on t'element o'flame. Water mages from water, an' so forth. Tha's all crystal, I'd hope." A brief pause to gather his thoughts "Now, Necromancers is the same, but the 'elements' we draw on are not the livin' ones. We draw on the 'elements' o'death, entropy, darkness an'decay. Me, I draw on the 'element' o'darkness. Now, there's been many theories o'er the years as to -why- an' -how- darkness can be manipulated th'way it can, but I'll leave those discussions fer later, a'right?" Valentin mentally drags himself back on course. Theory stuff was much harder than teaching some kid how to properly carve a carcass, that was for sure "But th'fact is, there is an element, an' essence of power, hidden in th'makeup o'shadows an' darkness which can be drawn upon an' manipulated wi'the right sigils an' cantas." Valentin recalls his own laborious lessons under the harsh instruction of the bastard who'd sired him "The problem is, an' why people have t'take this necromancin' business one step at a blimmin' time, is that everyone starts wi' a limited capacity to contain' the dark forces. Like a cup, y'pour too much in, an' it overflows. 'Cept, if this stuff overflows a little, you get a massive magical migraine, an' if it overflows too much, y'fry your own mind into a scorched patch o'useless gibberin'. So, if y'start gettin' headaches doin' somethin', ease off, or your worst hangover will seem like blimmin' heaven." Valentin knew this from painful personal experience in the Dark Forests of Vailkrin. "Now, I'm gonna use Lorkain's jargon 'ere, because I don't have a better way. Darkness, hiding as it does an unnatural energy, can be used to generate 'thermal friction' - kind o'like them savages what rub sticks t'make fire - an this forms Black Fire. An' it can be used to draw all the heat out of a place, an this is called Black Ice. Now, when you learn the cantas an' sigils, you will learn how t'bind darkness to heat an' cold. There are three 'Black Tides'. Umbral tides, which is pure shadow; Pyrumbral tides, which is shadow bound w'fire; and Cryumbral tides, which is shadow bound with ice - the latter which I'm particularly handy at." Valentin reaches a point where even he cannot parse more. "That all make some sense, Novus an' Prospective Novus?" At the same time, Daisy's paw would pass through the shadow to bat the floor, and the shadowy head would grin wider and wink, shifting away from Valentin's field of view to perform a chiaroscuro pantomime of tapdancing around Daisy's efforts to make further contact. By this time the shadow had stopped pretending to move with the direction of the lights, making obvious its somewhat unnatural nature.
Kyperion vanished before your eyes
Daisy was going to wait for Cerys, but can't! So the feline will actually laugh and pounce around with that shadow, chasing it anywhere it might go. Kind of like when you get one of those red lazers only cuter cause the kitten's giggles fill the room. She'll pounce with both paws and slowly look beneath them, only to find them empty. The shadow's taunting only makes her laugh more. What's this? She stands up and looks at the door. "My date!" So for lack of better ways to exit, the kitten grabs her box and takes off. "Bye! Nice meeting you! Good seeing you again! I like your shadow." And she's gone. <3
Cerys' left eye stops flickering and she doesn't even need to blink for her gaze to sync up. Her attention stays riveted to the butcher throughout his lecture, her eyebrows going up at certain points, in particular when he mentions the different elements of necromancy. When he goes into the different subsets of shadows and their uses, she nods along. Her fingers clench on the bag, eagerness evident in her hands, though she was reigning in the other one because of the apparently precious cargo it still carries. When the impromptu lesson of sorts comes to a close and Valentin checks for comprehension, her fingers relax around her sack to grip it normally once more and her expression returns to its typical pensive stare. "Yes. My thanks for imparting the knowledge so generously." The shadow's odd little dance draws her left eye once more, though not for too long. She glances toward Kyperion, curious as to whether he will have questions, since he is the apprentice proper.
Cerys could not be rewarded with the apprentice's proper's questions however due to his abrupt departure. She lofts a brow at the departing feline, but that is all in lieu of a proper goodbye.
Valentin narrowed his eyes when his new apprentice, evidently having been reminded of some other task, whisks off into the shadows again. Maybe the kittenthing's playing had prodded some memory. The Novus Morior was a little unfocused, it seemed, but he'd learn to focus or have some ritual backfire on him disastrously and gift Valentin with one less 'prentice. It happened, after all, quite often in the Necromancer's guild. Valentin juts his jaw in the fashion Cenrilli men had when a little annoyed "Well. Seems like the guild continues its gran' tradition of attractin' the nutters. He'd better not ha'screwed up his one task o'findin' a blimmin' goat for the Mistress. Several copper? An' from a Cenrilli goatmonger no less! I'd better get a blimmin' spare, jus' in case." A moment later, and Daisy too was gone. "Well. Kids these bloody days. I blimmin' tell you, they got no patience." Valentin focused on Cerys. "Well, Cerys, what I've told you is jus' the basic notion o'what I deal in as a member o'the Necromancer's guild. Now, Tenebrae - the Thanatos Domina - she's the most powerful re-animator I've ever seen, an' her necromantic constructs are like feckin' nightmares given flesh. Leifong, the Magister Letum, he's skilled in the art of Visceromancy, an' a monster in 'is own right. He ain't human no more, an' can craft his own bloody body like a lunatic taxidermist. Not sure about Daath, but he's a drow, an' you might want t'be careful 'round that one too. Lorkain, well, he's a special case. We're all pretty sure he knows everything there is t'know on the subject o'necromancy, but he won't share it beyond the basics - an' even then he makes the process as bloody unpleasant, dangerous, an' torturous as he can. I'd be willin' t'suggest that bein' a horrible bastard is the dried-up ol' carcass' hobby." Valentin nodded to Cerys. "So, now you. What d'you do, an' which o'the dark arts tickles y'fancy?"
Cerys 's ears perk in interest under her hair at the continued mention of Cenril, and she voices such. "From what my mother told me, I imagined Cenril to be a place predominantly for wealthy families who enjoyed a view of the water. I see that has changed?" But of course, those pointed ears perk even higher, enough to peek from under her carefully layered hair, at continued talk of those within the guild. In her mind she ticks off all the names and their respective skills accordingly, as well as the butcher's observations about each. Always taking notes and keeping watch seems imperative, she thinks, if she is to continue her course. "Sounds like quite the collection," she comments with a subtle quirk of her lips. At his own inquiry into her skills and interest, the hand continually clutching and tightening over the sack goes to toy with the hilt of the short sword at her hip. "I have basic skills with fire and water elements for combat purposes. Concerning Necromancy, however, at the moment, I know some reanimation. I've experimented with canines, rodents, and horses where I could get them. The canines are the only ones I attempted to preserve for any long length of time, and that turned out well. Only one humanoid so far, and the circle I know didn't prove compatible with that sort of body..." Though the making of said corpse was particularly satisfying, but the elf doesn't let her mind linger too much to that. "I have a goal of retrieving a certain soul and binding it to an object of mine, but for now I'd like to explore whatever I can and see what clicks. Though, certainly, furthering the skills I already have is an interest, perhaps raising something that is more than merely a mindless puppet that has to be monitored and controlled constantly."
Valentin nods "Cenril got turned into a pisshole after a double invasion. Them bastard lizard preklek, an' th'pirate scum out o'Rynvale. The Prekleks got turned back, but Cenril was on its blimmin' knees when the Rynvallian scum sailed in an' finished the job. City's been in various levels of anarchy since." Which served the butcher's purpose well, and he'd made efforts at various times to help ensure the status remained bloody quo. "So, I'm thinkin' luv that you will need t'work wi'the Thanatos Domina. Now, she's a touchy an' domineerin' kind o'bitch, but she knows her stuff. Prove you can complete any stupid task she sets you on - an' that means even somethin' like fetchin' a stupid goat - then she'll start offloading more difficult tasks. How you go about completin' those tasks will tell her a lot about you, an' will likely have direct impact on how much o'the arts o'reanimation an' soul binding she may or may not end up teachin' you." The necromantic butcher scratched his jaw "Right. If y'see her, tell 'er Valentin sent you, on account o'you wantin' how t'make dead things dance about. If you don't see her a'fore I do, I'll let her know you're seekin' tuition. The rest comes down t'not pissin' her off too much. Jus' make sure that, if she gives you a task, you've either got it done or 'ave a decent report on it before each an' every time y'make contact. Because it's the first thing she'll ask about." Nagged like a blimmin' harpy, in fact, the wench. "Really, it's jus' business as usual, but wi'monsters an' dead things."
Cerys glances down at the red-wrapped bundle in her arms, that grin tugging at her lips anew. What a coincidence. "I will be sure to keep all of this in mind. My thanks yet again, sir, for the mention and the advice," she says, bowing her head to punctuate the statement. Her left eye flickers between that bundle and the door. She couldn't tarry much longer, despite the stimulating company. "Lady Tenebrae, called the Mistress if I the title I heard from your apprentice wasn't mistaken, so I can confirm I do not have the wrong woman...she is rather petite, dark hair, vampire, and currently walking around in heavy black armor?" she asks, voicing her last question. Her arm tenses to hoist the dingy, and partially bloody sack over her shoulder once more.
Valentin nods "Most probably. Add t'that Green eyes, forked tongue, peevish tone, an' a tendency to nag folks incessantly, an' you've found th'wench. Proper title's 'Thanatos Domina', but Mistress, Guildmistress, an' 'Her grand high imperious waspishness' are equally valid. But maybe stick t'Thanatos Domina until she says otherwise. She's a bit changeable an' volatile." Valentin was then distracted by Crawyn returning with the paperwork, and comments "Well, duty blimmin' calls. Try not t'get et. Might be seein' you 'round." Not quite a dismissal, but the butcher's attention is drawn inexorably to his primary obligation to Lorkain.
Cerys mouths the title, rolls it around on her tongue silently a couple of times before hefting up that sack without so much as a grunt. "I do hope so," is all she says in parting before she makes her way toward the door, that left eye twitching toward Valentin as she heads back into the streets from whence she came.