RP:Helich Empowered by Solaris

Diiroehn ascends from shadow, the craven silhouettes of furniture cast upon the ground as if some morbid, theatrical play rising to make the frame of some gaunt, cadaverous being; the lich. All this, behind the dragon.

Helich disregards Namern as soon as the matter had been settled. In his mind at least. Turning now, the dragon - currently taking the form of an Elven man, didn't move a hair as the proximity of Diiroehn is noted.

Diiroehn 's death's head grin is just before Helich's own face, the natural height of the former drow giving the perfect position to meet elven gaze with that of tombstone; like two granite, empty slabs awaiting the etching of an epitaph. Beneath a melancholious appearance, judged by an overhanging hood and large, sweeping robes, the lich tilts his head slightly. "Why do you bother with such trivial matters? The soul stones are more prudent."

Helich :: A dreamless, black sleep had taken him centuries ago. Millenia had passed where he had only watched the world. And yet in this singular minute, after a life long - he felt fear for the first time. Tiny, minute. Foreign. "I prefer the more physical approach with the uncivilzed ones." He said blankly. Something within him - something was tugging at the edges of memory, as if this creature was of familiarity. "I prefer to save my energy for things of relevance. Sit, may I purchase you a drink?" Respect, though marred by a lack of trust, was given the creature before him. Intimidation was an abandoned method of retaking control of the situation.

Diiroehn resonates decay and death like some prodigal plague of a creature; both unnatural, and abhorrent. Even the wood beneath his feet gives way to withering cracks, spreading outward from the single focal point of the lightest touch that is his step, audible in groaning, protesting death. Without further ado, and prolifically so -even if a bit egotistically- the lich extends from his garbed back wings; and not just any avian's wings, but dying, rotting, and altogether disgusting wings reminiscent to that of a crow's, or a raven's. Such is befitting. Helich's words are noted with only that enthralled grin, that tombstone stare, and that utter, forebearing presence, before the Lord of the Dead speaks once more -his mouth does not move. His voice, as funereal and macabre as can be twisted into speech, writhes out once more: "You will unite the dragons under Solaris' banner, or have you forgotten already the deeds of him and his brother, Kaizer? It is not time to meddle with mortals, saurian. It is time to make your name."

Helich folds his hands down at his waist. A long moment passes between them, where the dragon at least - says no singular word. His gaze does not falter from Diiroehn's in the slightest, yet even the edges of the gaze show respect proper as it should be. A sigh settles the internal dispute Helich had been having, the male slowly bowing to one knee and lowering his gaze to the floor. He said not a word, breathing became heavy and strained. Stress. Memories.

Diiroehn tilts his head slightly, understanding the silent acceptance of the saurian in the prolific, especially tale-worthy task set before him; set upon him by the King of the Damned in very presence. The air about him seems to die, itself, blackening with tangible threads of darkness that weave here and there; raw, sheer power of the afterlife itself, augmented by the housing of a myriad of souls. "There are few left, but those that remain are mostly powerful. Lead them. Serve Solaris."

Helich allows knuckled digits to rest against the rotting floorboards beneath him. His gaze held steadfast against it - the Saurian jolted even more still at Diiroehn's last statement. Serve Solaris. Serve him, where once he had refused the Dragon and now to the opportunity to serve. The task was overwhelming. One step at a time. Thousands of years he had lived and yet - his voice was on the brink of shaking. "And what tools do you offer me in this venture?" He said, uncertainty plaguing his tone. "For I do not believe I can do it alone. For many memories escape me, not limited to the fact I have forgotten what the Banner of Solaris looks like." The task. It seemed impossible. Those words were spoken to the floor below and after, silence ensued.

Veriun – was a cloaked figure, almost like a robed ghost cloaked by a sheet of air itself, standing in the shadows of the tavern. While the actual cloak of cloth is not worn entirely the avian seems to be wrapped in some aura making him more difficult to see. A pair of red-gold eyes were watching Helich and the lich with studying interest, not missing the shadow of a moment; witnessing, observing, recording, everything, everything. This is a moment of which he cannot be oblivious. One which will matter. He was a watcher, truly.

Diiroehn returns the straightness of his cranium, which is made evident by the subtle movement of that ominous hood, hanging nearly over his face in craven, melancholious presence. "The guidance of Solaris, along with an increase in power." With this, the gaunt and skeletal finger of the Lich outstretches, to touch at the breast of the dragon; immediately, upon contact, Helich would shudder violently, quaking -a side-effect of receiving an enormous amount of energy.

/:: The touch was cold. Yet that lasted only a moment. As if expecting it, the Saurian closed his eyes tightly shut. The touch. No warmth. It balooned in him - any attuned to magic of any sort, any capable of sensing mana would feel or even see the surge of magic flow through the tavern straight into the chest of the man. Large, was an understatement. His form contorted, a seizure like state taking him - he curled up on his side along the rotting floorboards beneath Diiroehn's feet, shaking, convulsing - foam came from his mouth in waves and after the convulsing had ceased, he vomited - it felt as if every meal he had ever eaten wanted to come up. He heaved, drool and snot dripping from him even after that. A quiet groan, a moment passes - he sits up - and as the nausea passed, he could feel it. The surge of energy. A particular vampire had been procuring a rather large amount of his mana - a personal agenda - and even now the presence of the man had been pushed back, as if the bond was now being shared with an entity he could not yet identify. Solaris. With disregard for snot and drool, Helich pushes himself off the floorboards to weakly kneel again. "It will be as you say." Determination now, confidence returned that suited his arrogant personality. "I will raise the banner of Solaris and unite my brethren, and take what is rightfully ours."

Veriun 's left eyebrow ascends among white bangs, the avians face showing mild surprise, invisible to any without amazing eyesight. The lich's act was curious, not impossible to understand, but curious. Then again, this dragon if any was suitable. With a slight smile appearing, the avian switches his position slightly eyes studying the two carefully. He wouldn't miss anything. He couldn't afford to. Whatever emotions were flowing trough the mind of the watcher was known only to him. He had mastered his mind, suppressing all urges, comments, reactions until the situation had passed. Lowering the eyebrow once again at the transference of the humongous energy and the sudden decision of Helich. So there it was. What history he would he present to record presently had been set and he found it interesting.

Diiroehn begins to dissipate, eventually contorting upon himself and vanishing into nothingness altogether; upon his departure, the room seems suddenly less stuff -as if someone let the air back in.

Veriun lets of a light 'wheeew~' sound as the lich disappears, pushing himself off of the wall with the sounds of two light taps from his feet, head tilting and watching the space where the dread had been with powerful eyes. Showing his mysterious smile he lets off a comment speaking to no-one in peculiar. "Now that was certainly interesting." He says before walking in a casual pace past the dragon, half worn cloak sweeping together with wings, seemingly leaving afterimages. "Oh my. Who'd have expected the king of dread to appear and deal out such a task, and in a tavern of mortal drunks as well." He proceeds, still simply commenting to nothing but the returning air and empty space left from the lich.

Helich kept his gaze upon the floor, and after he had sensed that the Lich had dissipated stood - shakily at best - and procured a used napkin from a nearby table. A tankard of half empty ale sat next to it, the previous owners having left several hours before and Nancy having negated on her duties. Thankful, mayhap he was not - he expected nothing less than for fate to mold around him, not him around it - but drool and snot were wiped away quickly whilst an air of arrogance returned to him. He regarded all within the tavern with a narrowed gaze, especially the High Elf Vampiress - for reasons his owns - before sitting in the nearest chair he could find and clasping a hand to his forehead, elbow 'pon the table. Thoughts cascaded through his skull, one after another and in quick sucession. "Strider." A single word, a beckoning call. A seat offered with the gesture of a shaking hand.

Veriun turns his head upon the dragon speaking the name of his nature, watching said man studying before answering shortly. "Of course." He says in a confirming tone before taking the seat offered, waving his bangs out of his face with a dismissive hand movement after doing so, removing his only half worn cloak and putting it over the back of the chair before making another hand movement. One of encouragement, as if confirming that he will listen to what the dragon has to say, his eyes scanning said man carefully. "You have my ear."