RP:I am Here to Master Death
Main Road's End
Xiang stalks the snow covered road until he reaches it's end, the vampire's lean form covered in a simple robe of a dark tone that offers no real protection from the frigid climate of this realm of war and witchcraft. But, he doesn't need protection from such elements anymore, now does he? The embrace of the damned offers it's children solace from many such natural ailments. He is an average looking man of six feet two, his body looking more akin to that of a beggar. Thin, almost sickly looking. But it is his eyes that hold a malign hunger, whispering of a power gained by the mastery of martial combat. But, with no weapons on his person, and the thin clothing he wears being unable to conceal any as well, one would almost look over this stranger. Thsi stalker of the shadows, a hunter of men and beast alike. The story of this wanderer has yet to be told, for many who cross him find their life snuffed out, oblivion taking them into the eternal void where whatever god they appeased in life will pass judgement upon their wretched soul.
Satoshi occupies the end of the road as a solitary little figure, a white, vague form against a matching backdrop. Most passers-by miss her presence, as small as it is, and made all the more difficult to spot by her having drawn the threads of snow and mist about her to mask her outline with a ghostly shroud. It's here she's stood for hours since leaving her throne room, having arrived at the road's end and then halted to take in the landscape of Frostmaw's wilds beyond. Time slipped away from the magus then, moments large and small spent admiring the view and listening to the snowsong drifting to her from flakes and banks alike. She's not completely oblivious, however, not when the eidolon is tied into the very snow she stands upon, it serving almost as an extension of herself, and thus singing hints of the passage of beings nearby. It is through this that she feels the unfamiliar tenor of footsteps, footsteps light, clever, and certain, footsteps of a being that knows movement in the most intimate and precise of ways. A warrior, there's no doubting such a tread, when others of its kin are common in the city of war. Satoshi doesn't turn to see the stranger belonging to the footsteps, instead remaining stationary, with only a single ear twisting back to show she is not a simple ice sculpture.
Xiang has to admit to himself, he wasn't fully aware of another's presence here until the hidden magus made the subtle movement with her ear. And even then, sight is hard to really look at her. But, within moments the monk has determined that this is no ordinary being. Even her blood is cold, her heartbeat is unnatural, and her scent isn't of a warm blooded creature. And so, the rumors must be true, for unless there are a number of elemental beings running about Frostmaw, then this is either a true elemental, which are extremely reclusive by nature, or this is the woman known throughout the lands as Satoshi. He met her once, briefly, but she stood out to him. A creature that he wasn't sure he could kill, no matter his own confidence in his own skill. A former member of the assassin's guild, the former leader actually, and thus deserving of respect. Killers know killers. Death wrapped in a pretty package. Nature's own twisted joke. But, that is what drew the child of the night here, right? He longed to walk amongst beings like him. Masters of their craft. Artists of death, if need be. Xiang has grown tired of the common rabble. He longed for something more. And he hoped to find that in the frozen wastelands of frostmaw, where only the strong survive, and the weak perish under the might of those who call this haven of warriors home.
Satoshi's other ear follows the first, both now turned toward the man, as if their furred lengths were all she needed to read him. While her ears are certainly keen and sensitive, they're far from capable of such feats. At most, she can detect breath, pulse, and the small sounds body and clothing made during movement. But as he seems in no rush to initiate a conversation, the magus will not plunge into one either. It is rare to find one who knows the value and power of silence, after all, and that alone tells her much about him. As Satoshi stands there, she lets her other senses go to work. Whiskers quiver as they work out the threads of magic around them, searching for any that perhaps are tied to him, some clue of any arcane abilities of affinities he carries, or if mayhaps a God has a strong rope lassoed around him. Nose twitches once, seeking out his scent and that of his belongings, the former distinct and marking him as the one she'd encountered once before. The monk who'd caught the guild's eye. Satoshi's brow furrows ever so slightly. Had he been of the undead back then? He certainly is now, she can smell it in his flesh, taste it on the air, and feel it as an aura around him. A predator, and a damned good one.
Xiang has no such ties. No arcane magic, no godly blessings, even though he was trained at a monastary dedicated to Vakmatharas, he does not overly follow the god. What he worships is death itself. In it is the only absolute, for even life fades, no matter how hard one tries to outrun it. It is why he became a monk, to perfect himself so that he may offer those he deems worthy a glorious death, to him that is the highest of honors. But to this vampire, death does not mean passing to an eternity of peace and love in some marvelous afterlife in some fantasy paradise. No. Death is a void. Nothing. One simply dies, and becomes no more. Many strive to reach goals, such as obtain masteries over the arcane, a weapon, or several, or raise a family. This man, if he can be called such, wishes only to be a perfect implement of death, and to reach such a goal he has trained his body to be a catalyst of murder. The gift of vampirism, bestowed upon him by Morana, has only enhanced such abilities to quite a boundless degree. Where once a human possessed remarkable abilities that seperated him from the flock, no stands a creature that embodies a predator that is made to bring death in its wake. And, as the ghostly woman stands, the pair eying one another, the monk simply says. " I am here to master death." His voice holds no pride, or ego, or any hint of humor. No, it sounds much like he was informing the Queen of this realm of what will come to pass, and not what may. And indeed he was, for when Xiang says he will do something, he does it. He at least has the decent manner to inform someone he views as an equal he will be in their realm, killing its creatures and hunting its beasts.
Satoshi finally turns to face the monk, her expression unreadable save for the ghost of a smile touching her lips. "Then be welcome," she offers with a bow of her head, voice soft yet carrying through the icy breeze. "Death thrives here in numerous guises. He takes many souls, and hones fewer. You will not be left wanting in your endeavors, I assure you." With this, the magus falls quiet and simply regards the man, his simple choice of clothing and obvious lack of weapons speaking volumes about him. This is one confident and proven in his abilities, a warrior of the body, a blade already honed and blooded, ready to test itself in a new arena. Satoshi's smile widens marginally. Oh, this one's progress will be one worth watching, she has no doubt.
Xiang simply holds his gaze upon the magi, knowing well that even though many have been unnerved by it before, this one would not be so shaken. Her welcome is well recieved, even though no emotion is displayed upon his stoic and pale visage. He simply lets his eyes linger upon her for a moment longer, and then starts off towards the hunting grounds. He was hungry, and it was time for a hunt, so with naught another word exchanged between the magus and monk, the vampire seemingly stalks off into one of the most dangerous areas in all of Lythridel. In the distance, a series of howls and screeches signals that a few of the beasts that inhabit the frozen tundra await the vampire eagerly. Frostmaw heard the man's challenge, and in her own way answers in kind. Come, child, and test your mettle and face that which you wish to claim mastery over.
Satoshi watches the monk depart into the wilds, faint smile still on her face as he doesn't falter beneath the sounds of Frostmaw's waking beasts. Oh yes, he would be one worth watching, and one the wilds should watch out for.