RP:Making an Arsenal of Xzean
Summary: Ernest seeks an opportunity to make some gold off of those wishing to defend the Kelay Tavern with an imminent attack coming. Magik and Quintessa happen to be that opportunity.
Kelay Tavern
Built and rebuilt, torn apart and set like stubborn bone, this tavern is the pinnacle of Hollow's entirety, wrought around the premise of peace, equality, and consummate amity. And of course, the old place had seen all of the three, but so much more. Dire markings of claw and steel cut deep into wall panels and floorboards. Set against the land's usual motif of destruction are signs of comfort. Twisting shadows and smoothing out a careful blanket of light with soft, quaint fires, a candelabra dangles down by thick cords, gripping the circular holder. Each twists up, converging upon the center, where they snake about one another and form a thick, secure anchor to Kelay Tavern's high, accommodating ceiling. The candelabra rattle now and again from the inn patrons overhead, pouring down globs of wax to the center of the room, which is wide and unobstructed. Cheaply carpentered tables and chairs grow outward around the bare dancing area, keeping to the rounded theme, and also keeping to a dwarven barkeep's avariciously born taste for 'economical' furniture. Hardly any expense has been wasted on the actual upkeep of the public center, as can be garnered from the smell of deep pine, rich tobacco, and even richer spirits. Stairs twist away dimly near the high bar. And atop that side rests the inn logs, quill, and ink. This establishment's fine keeper, Mesthak, can be seen smiling out from his post at the bar, straight across to the room's always crackling stone-wrought hearth. Behind him, atop lofty shelves, sits an array of dark, amber, and clear liquids. Food smells waft from somewhere near at hand. A carefully printed and hung sign details the purchasable items here in the place of merriment, loss, laughter, and life. Also, tucked into a corner near one of two windows closest to the tavern doorway is a thickly papered bulletin board. A sign has been added next to the board that reads, 'The management requires patrons be fully inebriated at all times and that no curing spells be performed in this tavern-Thank you'.
A note is tacked to the board, written on a piece of what seems to be humanoid skin. It reads: In 10 days times I shall be removing this blight of a tavern from the face of Hollow. I will be bringing an Undead army to tear it down brick by brick. If you care for your mortal life, keep as far as you can on that night.
Pinned on top of the previous 'threat' reads: Only a coward leaves a note like this unsigned. ~Magikrios Lyastri D'Chath~
A thick cloud of black smoke practically throws the tavern door off its hinges as it bursts through the entranceway. The smoke completes its path at the tavern board where it quickly fades, leaving the towering elf searching for a certain note in particular. The Lyastri smirks at the still-unsigned threat to the tavern, now knowing who the writer's identity is. "Pathetic," whispers the former vampire as he turns and heads towards his favorite table just in front of the fireplace. With his back facing the fire, Magik waves off the incoming Nancy. He had his own dinner and drink ready in his pack should he work up an appetite. Until then, he's here to simply enjoy the tavern atmosphere.
Ernest poked his head in shortly after, his hat preceding his entrance. A quick glance around told him precisely who had just entered so fantastically and he stepped in afterward with a "clink" of spurs against hardwood floor, the undead's dessicated skin pulled into a sneering half-grin around his face. "Hard t'follow an act like that," he drawled, turning that grin in the man's direction. "Oughta get myself some more smoke bombs fer th' same reason. That' aside th' point." He raised his voice to address everyone in the room, the man included, but also anybody who might care to listen. "Hey! Y'all see that dumb threat posted on th' tavern board recently? I know who posted it, an' furthermore I got somethin' good ta use in defendin' this place against 'im. Several good somethin's, in fact. Anyone good with a bow, or crossbow?" He pulled from his longcoat a quiver and shook it slightly, letting the sound of arrows knocking about inside it ring out. "Magic ammo."
Magik was in a foul mood until Ernest's comment. The elf normally tried to remain neutral in his expressions but he couldn't help but smile and laugh. After pulling the hood from his head, he raised his large black bow into the air. The bow quickly ignites with the Lyastri's signature black fire, "Aye. I'll buy some of that information off of ya." A little confirmation never hurt anyone. As Magikrios sets the bow to his side to cool off, his fiery eyes light up at the arrows, "Perhaps those arrows too..Have a seat, stranger." Heavy boots kicked at the chair across from him, sliding the chair out for the unexpected guest.
Quintessa 's entrance was announced by the clicking of her own, heeled boots as she walks toward the tavern board, her left hand resting gently against the hilt of her katana as her lithe form glides though the establishment. Her mismatched eyes gaze casually from under black lashes at the notes, her boredom with the situation apparent on her pallid features. "Pity," the changeling says, turning away from the words written. "I expected more posturing." Quintessa's sapphire and topaz optics fall upon Magik and Ernest next, her curiosity quickly shifting to whatever they were doing here. The hex blade wasn't skilled with a bow or crossbow, but the idea of magic ammunition at least was enough to catch her attention. "Interesting," Quintessa mutters, joining them without asking, "I suppose this is in preparation for the impending attack... It takes a shrewd merchant to go where the demand for such a thing does."
Ernest tipped his hat and sat down heavily, setting the quiver on the table with a thunk. "I ain't one ta pass up payment when offered," he answered, reclining a bit in the chair, tipping it slightly onto its back legs, "but t'be honest I mostly jes' wanna see th' look on that pretentious varmint's face when 'is great plans to 'show off his power' go up in smoke." He patted the quiver with a grin. "Made these special, just fer him. Name's Xzean, at least fer short. Claims t'be an old necromancer, ain't got a single iota of professionalism. I tried t'reason with 'im, but he's dead set on this little display. Prolly means he ain't got beans fer common sense, which means his undead're either gonna be real easy t'bring down, or completely overengineered."
Magik watched as his dear friend joined the table unexpectedly. Sushi shall be had indeed. Vhid, Magik's fat, black, and trusty ferret spontaneously appears at the table with a plate of fresh sushi and sashimi. The ferret sets the plate down and scurries off the table. Magik winks at Tessa before returning his focus on Ernest, "This tavern has been through enough as it is. It's stood the test of time this long. I don't want to see it brought down by some nobody whose face I've only seen once on some powertrip. Doesn't quite sit well with me, ya know." The former vampire's eyes drift to the quiver on the table for a short moment before arching a brow at Ernest, "What's in store for this necromancer with these involved?"
Quintessa gives the two men a small smile, her lips curling up to crack her pale completion. "Yes, 'Lord Xzeanelenan' he calls himself, but if he was truly a lord he wouldn't be squatting in the Dark Forest now would he?" The changeling taps her bottom lip with a single long digit as she thinks, pondering if she too wanted to purchase Ernest's fancy projectiles. Would he had enough to outfit an entire retinue? "When he approached me in this very same tavern seeking admittance into the Necromancer's Guild I had no idea he'd want to destroy it afterward. I cannot fathom what motivates a man like that."
Ernest couldn't help but make a "pft" sound upon hearing this news, unable to stop himself from chuckling at the absurdity of a lord without a castle or throne. "Somethin' us mere mortals could never unnerstand, I'm sure. Anyhow! Ammo." He went to the quiver and pulled out one of the arrows--this one had a red spiral drawn around the shaft. "I got a few different ones, fer different scenarios. A couple are meant t'be used in sequence, so pay attention. This one, y'don't shoot at th' man himself. Shoot near him, inta the ground. It's got terramancy sigils which make a circle of earth indent slightly into runes, and then enough power stored in it ta activate 'em. Th' runes create a defensive barrier--no spell can get in or out of th' shield. Spells that hit it just recharge it." He winked and chuckled again, clearly pleased with himself. "It don't stop anythin' else, though. Won't stop arrows, fer instance."
Magik pops a piece of sushi into his mouth; spicy crab. Tasty. He munches on his snack as he offers Tessa and Ernest some as well by simply wagging a finger between the two then pointing to the plate of delicious possibilities. As the man explains what the arrow does, the elf smirks, "You had my curiosity. Now you have my attention." Magik had a new of his own trick arrows but this one was indeed one he wishes he would have thought of.
Quintessa allows her pale blue and warm hazel eyes to trace over the different magical bolts and arrows as she leans closer to Magik, her pink lips parting to address him in a hushed tone. "Perhaps you could provide the 'local militia' with these. Also, word has it that a troop of fighters from the Warrior's Guild are in the area. If things get too dicey I'm sure you can count on them to help defend the Sage."
Ernest shook his head at the suggestion that he could outfit a whole group with them. "I'm good, but I ain't that good, much as I wish I was. Took me all night an' most of a day jus' t'make these." Maybe he was dead, but he could still taste. He grabbed one of those sushi rolls and munched on it while he pulled the next arrow from his quiver. This one had yellow stripes running down the shaft. "Same concept, different effect. Hit th' ground, make runes. These're fire runes, though. Set everythin' inside th' circle ablaze." He chuckled. "Nobody expects ya t'cast a fire spell with terramancy. This one's simple enough, movin' on." The next arrow had little circles drawn on the shaft, in green. "This one's fun. I used a spell like this back when I fought in a tournament. Rune circle, again, but a small one. Makes an invisible barrier--physical, this time--an' animates it into th' shape of a hand, which grabs onto th' nearest thing. Great fer holdin' 'im in place without givin' 'im extra defense, y'see?"
Magik side-eyes Quintessa as she makes her suggestion. That's what he was thinking. Time for more sushi! Ernest admitting he didn't have that many to properly outfit the Syndicate of Shadow's Unseen Hand wouldn't discourage the elf. Magik remained interested in the quiver of arrows as he started thinking on where to position the Unseen Hand. This would be the main topic of the SoS' next meeting. The fire within Magik's eyes dance about as he studies each arrow, taking in the color and what their effect will be. He was starting to wish that Xzean would make his move at this very moment. However, back to the current situation. Magik chuckles as Ernest mentions the fire runed arrow, "I think I'll have the fire portion under control but that'll definitely come in handy..How much for the lot unless you," he eyes the quiver, "..have some more in there?"
Quintessa nods her head at Ernest as admits that he wouldn't be able to outfit an entire group of soldiers. The changeling too had run into this same issue. "Yes, time is always a factor. It takes months for a single person to stockpile enough munitions to supply an army, I've been managing logistics for House Dragana long enough to know that at least." Quintessa's sapphire and topaz eyes gleam in the light of the tavern as they flicker up to look at Ernest properly. "I'd much like to invest in your magical research, however, I foresee many useful things coming out of this field. You possess a rare... spark of creativity."
Ernest tipped his hat again at Quintessa's compliment. "Thank ya kindly. I'd happily accept any inves'ments yer willin' ta make. I do indeed," here he turned his attention back to Magik, "have more. Four more, as it happens. Two more areas, an' two fer usin' on th' man himself. The area ones're similar to th' hand, 'cept they use cryomancy instead o' terramancy to form their runes. Frost on th' ground in a big circle, forms a dome over 'im." He pulled out two arrows, one with blue circles, and one with blue stripes. He gestured with the circles one when he mentioned the dome. "Physical barrier. No in, no out." Then he shook the blue-stripes one. "This one shrinks that barrier down t'the size of a rat." He held out a hand and made a gruesome squeezing gesture as a visual. "Without th' first one in place, th' second don't do a whole lot, so be careful."
Magik looks to Tessa, "I think we can utilize all of these, yeah?" The two explained really tickled his fancy. The ice. The crushing. Magik's eyes darkened as the scenarios played out in his head, "And the last two?" The elf was trying his very best to not get all giddy as he remained short and straight to the point. He'll certainly study and admire each of these arrows should the transaction be completed.
Quintessa was silently studying the arrows, one hand idly tugging her bottom lip in thought. There was once a time the Arcane Stewardess toyed with runic explosives, and these special projectiles had inspired her to reopen her abandoned project. She'd still have lots of supplies available…
Ernest hauled out the last two. "These, y'gotta be extra careful with." They didn't have special markings, but instead glinted strangely in the light of the fireplace--one with a sickly blue light, and one with shimmering, swirling multicolored hues. Both came with a sense of dread--distilled -wrongness-. "They're intended fer the guy himself. Cursed, both of 'em. They won't do you any harm--they're targeted to 'is name--but if y'set 'em off early by prickin' yer finger, they'll fizzle." He held up the blue-reflective one. "This one's a similar principle to th' first one I showed you, but worse. I call it th' Curse of the Tyrant's Dissent. Creates an antimagic field that hugs th' victim. Turns off all casting, makes 'em unable t'speak. Trouble is, Xzean-whatever-his-full-name-is can eat curses, apparently. So this'll only last a short time 'fore he clears it out. But while it's on, all his defenses'll be gone." Then he held up the other one, with shifting rainbow swirls. "An' this one is prolly my finest curse... ever. It's th' Curse of the Tricksy Rabbit. Also considered th' Curse That Casts Itself, but I figured that was too on th'nose." He chuckled. "What it does in th' background ain't important to ya.I gave it a pretty minor effect, with enough loops and knots in its casting t'make it difficult to quickly unravel by eatin' it. Real basic illusion. However, once it's attached, the magic starts duplicatin' itself. Casts itself on th' guy again. An' again. An' every new copy casts itself again, too. An' th' best part is, it casts itself usin' -his- mana pool." He carefully handed the arrow over to Magik for him to examine by itself. "He can eat a curse. May even get energy from it. But he ain't quick enough ta eat it before it starts copyin' itself, an' by then it'll be too late. He'll be so full o' curses that eat his mana that any energy he can get'll immediately be siphoned off to spawn more copies o' curses. No more magic fer him."
Magik took the arrow carefully. He turned it around and examined the fledglings. To the other side he closed an eye and judged the well constructed shaft as well as the arrow tip. "Tricksy Rabbit, you say?" Normally he would test the sharpness of the arrow tip but he was wise to heed Ernest's warning. He carefully places the arrow down on the table top, tip facing away from everyone. Magik kept his cool and excitement contained as he tried to keep up with his Veneficus D'Chath demeanor. "I don't know what to say. You've built quite the limited but deadly arsenal." Magik was beyond ready to toss this man some coin. Perhaps a little more than asking price.
Quintessa felt the call to return to her research. Did she leave her schematics in Xalious? "Yes, I must have left them there..." she mutters, not realizing she was speaking out loud. The changeling's gaze drifts westward, in the direction of the Mage Tower, and although she hasn't risen from her seat to leave yet, Quintessa has left this conversation far behind her. It had been so long since Airon commissioned those bombs and never picked them up that the hex blade hadn't had the chance to update her technique on them yet. She was but a novice back then! "With my new lab equipment I could make tiny runes... absolutely miniscule... "
Ernest raised an eyebrow at Quintessa's little unrelated outburst. Tiny runes? "Tiny runes?" he asked, definitely interested, but then shifted his attention back to Magik. "Well, thank you. I like t'think of neat ways t'combine spells an' enchantments. Most o' these are fer slowin' someone down or turnin' off their abilities more'n hurtin' 'em, but that's just 'cause I tend t'prefer the ol'," in a movement so fast one could be forgiven for thinking there was a part in the middle that Ernest somehow -missed-, he'd drawn one of his hand crossbows and started it spinning on a finger, "quickdraw fer the actual punch. More reliable, y'know?"
Magik blinks at Tessa's random words before returning his attention to Ernest. Magik wasn't the type to show off any of his hidden talents but Ernest's quick pull of his crossbow with some added flair was enjoyable. Magik unfolds his hands and exposes his left palm at the male opposite him. The tip of an arrow starts to cut and tear through his palm. The Lyastri smirks, "Oh, I hear ya, good sir." Magik had a slight advantage with his palm trick. Less movements. The elf then holds his bleeding hand below the table and behind him where the arrow would let loose into the fire where it would quickly burn up. He returns his hands to the table folded once more, "How much were you thinking for the lot?"
Quintessa looks up at Earnest, her eyes glazed over with the obvious luster of one who was clearly not listening. Did he ask her about her runes? "Y-yes, I'm a Runologist, studied it properly at the Mage's College in Xalious. I've specialized in imbuing mundane objects with magical power, but I have a broad foundation of knowledge on the subject... But you asked about tiny runes, did you not?" Quintessa glances at Magik before she continues. "My new laboratory is fitted with mithril tools so delicate I can inscribe runes many times smaller than I could as an apprentice. This conversation reminded me that I never got to test them out properly." The changeling was now daydreaming about doing some calibrations on it... Would her new equipment even be able to work on the Jubaku no Kijo? So many tests to run…
Ernest shrugged at Magik's question. "Well, now, custom-tailored curses designed specifically to screw over one uppity mage ain't exactly th' sort of thing you can' find layin' around in th' gutter, is it? Let's say... three thousand. Gold. For th' lot." To Quintessa, he said, with a tip of his hat, "...I'd love ta take a look at yer laboratory, if that happens ta be part o' yer sponsorin' me. Sounds like you got some real interestin' runes I could work into things."
Magik nods without hesitation before reaching into an inside pocket of his vest. After judging the weight of the gold he slides it towards the undead male, "Five thousand and I keep the quiver, yeah?"
Quintessa nods her head at Ernest as her mismatched eyes watch the exchange of gold before her. "Of course. Next time we are both in Vailkrin I'll invite you to House Dragana and give you a tour of my personal lab. My house has long stood as an academic institution, and I strive to keep those ideals alive by helping those that are interested in the sciences and naturalism."
Ernest beamed. The expression didn't look so great on his face, but for the moment, it worked. He scooped the bag off the table, weighed it similarly and nodded, pocketing it appreciatively. "Quiver ain't magic an' it's too long fer my usual bolts anyhow. It's yours. Much obliged, an' a pleasure doin' business with ya. I can make custom spell-arrows fer other occasions too, if y'need it." He tossed the crossbow into the air, still spinning, and stood. "An' I'd love ta come by anytime an' see what'cha have ta show me." When he caught the crossbow again, it was behind his back, with his opposite hand, without even looking at it, and as he moved it back in front of himself it was still spinning. He caught its handle, reversed its spin, turned it sideways, tossed it back to his first hand and holstered it smoothly. "Fer now, I s'pose I oughta start makin' some duplicates of that stuff fer myself, on the off-chance I happen t'be in the neighborhood when Xzean shows up. Be seein' y'all later, yeah?"
Magik sure thought that was a neat little trick. Later this evening before bed while just in his underoos he's going to try the same trick but he'll fail miserably. Somehow his crossbow will end up falling onto his toe. Magik will curse a bunch and probably accidentally set something on fire. Anyways. The elf offers the mummy crossbow slinger a wave before gathering up his new toys, "See ya, friend." The full quiver is placed in his pack before he stands. Tessa would receive a pat on the head before he takes his exit as well.
Quintessa smiles at Ernest's crossbow slingin` display and the young changeling can't help but be impressed at the show of skill and dexterity. "You're pretty good." She says, her sharp teeth flashed at him with a grin. A tiny wave of her fingers severed as her goodbyes the the undead before she too stood and prepared to leave. "I've got business at the tower." She says to Magik before heading for the door. "See ya."