RP:Negotiating with Death

Dusk is settling swiftly over the seemingly infinite tracts of blaring white tundra, shadows elongating wickedly out from every rock, drift, or mound of snow as the sun slowly falls below the line of protruding peaks. Soon it will be fully dark, and the plummeting temperatures will turn this place into even more of a hostile, inhospitable wasteland, but for now the sun's last lingering rays shed just enough light for a hooded man to be seen slowly pacing back and forth. From a distance he is little more than a shifting inkblot, but as one draws closer the Haruspex's form solidifies, and other objects littering the ground about his position become visible, namely a steel cage containing a writhing form, and several shambling corpses that seem to go about various tasks at the Priest's behest, such as tamping down the snow in various places, or preparing various instruments set out on a rough stone dais that seems to have been brought especially for the occasion.

Kasyr has been wandering in this direction for the last little while, the Kensai having once more fallen prey to his wanderlust. Beyond the occasional encounter with some of Frostmaws less-than-friendly fauna (including an unpleasent run in with a small group of Not-Alpacas), the Revenant has had a fairly quiet little meander. Encountering neither wandering Woodsman, or even a group of exiles that have strayed from their scattered camps- the Kensai has begun to develop an expectation that this journey will be a practice in solitude. It's for this reason that it is doubly surprising that he becomes aware of signs of life (or un-life) within the battlefields, one brow quirking up in befuddlement at the activity within the 'mass-graveyard' that was effectively sacred ground. With a loud sigh, the vampire simply begins to jog over towards the 'gathering', quite intent at ascertaining just what exactly is occuring. Kasyr said, "Oi."

Leifong doesn't bother turning to glance at the newcomer until Kasyr is nearly upon him, handing out a few more instructions to his undead servants before finally making to head the approaching man off. Leifong is not particularly large, and in truth he is little more than a decrepit wraith beneath his robes spun from shadow itself, but as he draws to a halt before Kasyr, the priest almost seems to puff up, his edges expanding subtly to make him seem more threatening, though it would be almost impossible to catch in any sort of conscious manner. "May I assist you?" the priest responds as though his presence here were entirely normal, and in the background four of his minions begin lugging that heavy steel cage to a spot in the middle of some spiderwebbing pattern which has been stomped into the permafrost.

Dami wasn't in Kansas anymore, her pitiful knowledge of the frozen lands up top proving so. It honestly wasn't that far from the tavern to the caves, so how she ended up wandering this frozen nightmare was anyone's guess. Either way, she was going to wander till she found -something- to give change or guidance in direction. The guidance she locked in on however, had to have been a fluke. Only a mile or so in wake of the Revenant, Dami took this as much of an opportunity to reunite with her sire. Shadowing in his steps, she trudged as best she could through the snow before the sharp winds erased her bread-crumb trail. She'd just paw at the weak link the two shared should the trail go cold..

Kasyr is normally 5'6, though his current agitation has caused those peculiar feline ears of his to crop up- potentially lending him an extra inch or two of non-fearsome height. Beyond that, however, there's no particular change in either the Kensais posture or actions. Even when Leifong moves to step into his path, the swordsman merely ducks down and swerves to the side, quite intent upon ambling over towards where all the activity is occuring. Should he manage this particular maneuver unhindered, he'd make a particular beckoning motion to the figure, "Certainly. You can tell moi what you're doing. Et by whose authority."

Leifong makes no effort to prevent Kasyr from ducking him and proceeding onward to the area of his current preparations, though the priest does move rather swiftly to stay by his side, just in case the situation were to escalate to the point of violence. "I can. Though whether I will or not depends on exactly who you are, and the reason you find yourself entitled to such an answer." Arrogant as always, though the priest's tone is not disrespectful or contemptuous. "Though, I will advise you now not to cross that boundary." a near skeletal hand stretches out to indicate a particularly deep trench which stretches in a circle around where his minions were now depositing the cage. Now that he was closer, Kasyr might be able to identify the writhing forms within it as several young elves, all apparently yelling out to him, though no sound passes through the cage bars.

Dami wasn't in the best of winter ware, her order in Cenril still put on hold. With arms hugged around her simple t-shirt, Dami did the best she could to block the frozen winds that whipped at her relentlessly. Even in death, it hurt. Her stalk was far from graceful, but nearly over. Knee deep in snow, she squinted up at the small camp, figuring that to be him. At least she hoped one of the dots was him. Kas should have felt her empathic shouts of frustration right about now.

Kasyr momentarily stops in his tracks for a moment, the vampires hands sliding into his pockets as he simply ducks down and languidly archs backwards so as to stare at the sudden emotional resonance emanating from behind himself. With a curious look on his face, the Kensai simply snaps back into a standing position, ears beginning to fidget a fair bit more. "Kasyr Azakhaer, King Consort of Frostmaw." A pause, and the vampire promptly leans forward, offering a fanged grin to the robed figure, "Care to elaborate as to why you're intruding upon holy grounds?" Even as the swordsman speaks, the darkness around his body seems to shiver and twitch with agitation, as though the shadows had turned liquid- rippling from some unscene disturbance. The most prominent movements are along the Revenants arms, something rustling back and forth within the sleeves of his trenchcoat.

Leifong allows his eyes to follow the trail of Kasyr's gaze, noting a second approaching dot on the quickly darkening landscape and wondering if perhaps he had indeed intruded a bit too far past his boundaries, what with the king consort and company arriving. "One rarely finds themselves 'intruding' upon holy grounds for a purpose other than holy, by nature." he responds vaguely, though honestly, in respect of the fact that this was not his domain. Yet as he speaks, Leifong's entire attention is suddenly absorbed by the agitation of those shadows around Kasyr, feeling the traces of magic and finding his curiosity piqued. "I expect it might be rather entertaining, should you care to observe. No infringement is meant upon the throne of Frostmaw's authority."

Dami was on the verge of stealing a clip from an old bug's bunny cartoon- a deep waking trail behind here, in which she'd pop up and talk about wrong directions. She did her best to stay atop the snow, her small figure sinking in deep with each step. With her head bowed down, and arms held tight, she'd run the rest of the distance in a final attempt to close the gap. Like a running back, she'd end up plowing past the priest, any undead, and inadvertently bump right into Kasyr. So her depth percept was off a bit. "At times, I wish you never left Vailkrin. At least cobblestone is easier to travel on then snow." Quickly stepping back, the elf grimaced by default. What exactly had she just walked in on.

Kasyr offers a sideways glance towards Leifongs living impaired assistants, before one hand lifts, a single finger waggling to gain attention, "Th- oof!" Stirring from the unexpected impact, the Kensai simply adjusts his trenchcoat- before glancing over towards Dami, "Er, are you alright?" She did, after all, just run into someone wearing an armoured trenchcoat. "Et what are you doing here?" And it's at that question that the Revenants attention snaps right back to Leifong, finger now pointingly accusingly at the fellow, "I know far better than to assume ones' presence in a place such as this can only be holy- not when the opportunity for a blaspheme prevents itself." A secondary glance is offered to the undead entities here, before the vampire adds, "Given you've not mentioned the authority that you came here by, I can only gather it's your own. Perhaps you'd best explain yourself- hastily. Lest you arouse the anger of Frostmaw while you're firmly entrenched behind its borders. Tu sais?"

Kasyr ||The shadows about the Kensai still carry that peculiar fluidity- one that seems to extend even to the shadows directly in contact with the vampire, as made noticeable by the manner in which they seem to squirm when the Terramancer ran smack-dab into Kasyr.

Leifong stares in something of a nonplussed fashion at the Revenant and his newly arrived companion, wondering if he might be able to get away with simply murdering the both of them and leaving their bodies out on the wastes for beasts to find and pick through. It would be so much easier than trying to explain everything, and it is perhaps what he might have done, were this Vailkrin rather than Frostmaw. "I am here under the authority of Lord Vakmatharas, our holy father. He who guides our steps through the darkness." as he speaks, Leifong breaks away from the pair, moving to take his place amid his servants within the ring he'd indicated as inadvisable to cross. "I seek no quarrel with the ice queen, nor her subjects. I am merely here to... pay my respects. And perhaps offer those poor, forgotten souls who've fallen here an alternative to their endless hell."

Satoshi appears from the east.

Dami respectfully took a step back from the Revenant, and gave him a simply, "..sticking by your side?" answer when she found the chance. It was about then did she really 'look' around at her surroundings, feeling a little foolish having stumbled into something like this without realization. It would take some time for the terramancer to traverse these hard condition with ease. "Did.. You need me for something, by chance?" Again she was caught glancing around, mostly to try and gauge their numbers, and determine just how many the robed figure had at his command.

Leifong was not here with a full military force. There were seven in all, including himself, all at varying states of decay.

Kasyr tosses a glance back towards Dami, "I do, in fact, need you for something now. It would be much appreciated, in fact- were you to depart from this location. If you see the lady frostmaw on your way back, feel free to redirect her to this location." Not that she likely won't be appearing shortly enough- but it does at least get Dami out of the area in case..undue hostilities occur. From there, the Kensai simply returns the entirety of his focus towards Leifong, "I see. Than I suppose you ought to be duly informed. She would not, et will not, tolerate such a desecration of her people. This area, beyond all others, is sacred to her people. Perhaps were you to barter with her, you might be able to acquire the..'rights' to the bodies of those exiled giants that reside within the woods. ..But these actions? They'll desist." Apparently, the Kensai's a fair few shades of confidant, even with Dami likely departing.

Leifong is a fiery little ball of rage underneath his calm exterior, eyes hidden by the deepening darkness, his low drawn hood, and that twisted mask of his made from some pour soul's torn away face flick rapidly between Kasyr and the departing Dami, knowing that were he to act against them, it must come now. Leifong was a man who didn't like being told no, and more than that, he was a man who it was generally inadvisable to disagree with, given his volatile temper and penchant for horribly mutilating those who did so. Yet here was a situation in which the Haruspex knew that bloodshed would not truly yield what it is he desired, and so with a considerable amount of self control he bites back that rage in favor of a further attempt at diplomacy. "I would greatly appreciate being allowed to continue my work here... sir." that last little adage seems to stick in the priest's throat a bit. "Perhaps if I were to speak with the queen, she might allow me such a boon."

Satoshi doesn't, in fact, require Dami to fetch her, not when she's bound to her kensai husband on numerous levels, and likewise directly linked into the very lands of Frostmaw--the lives and actions of its inhabitants capable of being felt by her very core, with the right focus. While such a link is generally taxing when fully acknowledged, and thus typically walled off save for simple monitoring, when ties to Frostmaw's well-being and Kasyr merge, it tends to catch the magus' attention. As it has currently. Which is why Lady Frostmaw abruptly appears upon a hillock of snow in a flurry of flakes, with the heavy footsteps of her frost giant escorts not far behind. "Ahem. Evenin'?"

Dami was just on her way out, when half the task at hand was done. "That was easy?" She mostly mumbled to herself while she look up across at the lady of the lands. Still, even with her presence hastily made, the elf had orders still vacate the vicinity. Wishing she could have been of more use, she doesn't protest against the Revenant's words, and quickly works to execute the only other part of his orders. Coming back from where she had -just- came from, the elf grudgingly mutters to herself. Dami exits north.

Kasyr can feel the smirk working its way across his features, the dark figures rage palpable to the empathic vampire. Between Leifongs ire, and Satoshis arrival it's all too perfect- the Revenant taking a step to one side, before both hands are gestured in the queens direction, "Far be it from moi to hinder you from making such a request, monsieur."

Satoshi said to Kasyr, "Request~?"

Leifong can feel the ice queen arrive before he would have need to look her way with physical eyes, the presence of her power as uniquely identifiable as a fingerprint as it is suddenly made known out in the wastes. Out of respect the priest bends at the waist, dipping into a bow before straightening out and directing the bulk of attention to Satoshi. "You have excellent timing, Lady Satoshi."

Satoshi straightens from her crouching position, returning the stranger's bow in the process, amber-flecked eyes never leaving his form despite the peculiar sights present. While she keeps her face neutral, the impatient rumbling of the snow beneath their feet betrays the kit's wary state being reflected in the lands. "When it comes to Frostmaw, I do." The crunching of ice announces the arrival of her queensguard, the quintet of giants arranging themselves in a line behind the magus. Satoshi throws Kasyr a look at that, as if to say, 'Never far. Like obsessed puppies.' before her gaze goes back to Leifong. "Something about a request was mentioned?" Satoshi's politics are a tad more blunt than Kasyr's.

Kasyr simply places a hand on his hip, whilst the other is gestured off towards Leifong, "Aye, well, I'll allow him to argue his particular case- though he would likely be better off with the particular suggestion I provided." From there, the Kensai simply folds his arms behind his back, the calm demeanour he's presenting seemingly reflected in the darkness that clung so close to him- the ripples all but dying out.

Leifong gestures around simply, noting the presence of his undead minions and the various bits of equipment littering the area. "As you can see." or perhaps not, given that the sun had finally fallen below the horizon and darkness had spread through the wastes. "I was in the midst of preparations for a ritual when the king consort advised me that... it might be in my best interests to cease." Here Leifong can't help but tense, still somewhat offended by his reception in these lands and biting back his frustration. "Understandable, to be sure, but it would be such a shame to simply pack up and go home after coming all this way. I am hoping that you might allow me to finish my work here, after which I shall leave Frostmaw no less charming and beautiful than it was when I arrived."

Satoshi 's eyes don't follow Leifong's gesture toward his work station, but a brow is arched nonetheless in a look of slight interest. "That's a possibility, yes. Depending upon what exactly your ritual -is-, and whom... or what, it involves. For the most part, you see, these lands are off limits. Parts of it are considerably sacred to the people of Frostmaw. The children of Aramoth don't take kindly to their forebearers being dug up, after all." As if to emphasize her words, one of her guards bristles and takes an aggressive step forward, only halted by the firm hand of a more level-headed colleague. Satoshi doesn't react, continuing on as if she's oblivious to the giants. "I am generally willing to work out deals, mind you."

Kasyr begins to rock back and forth on the heels of his feet, loosely following what's occuring- though he can't help but glance off in the direction Dami hurried off in. She'd be fine, with any luck. Dragging his attention back to the current exchange of words occuring, the Kensai simply lets his attention drift over towards Leifong, " Hence my interjection, et suggestion. If you're seeking to get into touch with poor forgotten souls- there are dead et dishonoured exiles in..other climes less sacred."

Leifong restrains himself from mentioning that he thinks that the children of Aramoth might rather have their forebearers be dug up than find themselves put down. Luckily for him, I'm sure. "I am simply offering the poor souls condemned to litter these wastes an opportunity... and a choice. My lord Vakmatharas offers his blessing not to the unwilling." and it is about here that he takes note of Kasyr's further comment. "There are plenty of corpses in the world. More than I could every require. Yet the very ground here -breathes- power... surely you can feel it. The warriors lost here are hungry, they burn to rise and continue the battle. I offer them the strength to do so, and a purpose for their insatiable desire." the priest stalks several paces away from the assembled group to where his servants now stand idle, awaiting further instruction. "These are worthless for my purposes. Weak flesh, with weak souls." as he continues to speak the Haruspex places a cold, lifeless palm upon the chest of his nearest minion and it displays nothing more than a perplexed expression as it's body begins bloat and contort unnaturally. Within moments a fist sized protrusion grows into a skull sized goiter that then ruptures, spewing rancid ichor on the snow as the corpse begins to literally tear itself apart and then dissolve into nothing more than puss. "I require something stronger, and I am willing to provide some form of compensation befitting of your desires, should you grant me this boon."

Kasyr cants his head towards Satoshi, a surprisingly serious expression upon the Revenants features as he moves to meet her gaze. The Revenant remains as such for a few moments, his features flickering between several micro-expressions; curiosity, concern, and even amusement, before he finally turns his attention back towards Leifong and shrugs, "I'll stand by the Lady Frostmaws' decision in this moment, whatever it may be. You do seem, after all, disinclined towards an alternative- despite the numerous curious creatures which inhabit the forest."

Satoshi glances toward Kasyr momentarily, before grinning in a decidedly lopsided fashion. "You can have your desired boon, and the compensation will be this. By their choice alone are any of these bodies to be given life. As well, being people of Frostmaw, they live and die to fight." The guards stand a little straighter at these words. "The power you feel here is their desire to continue the fight that was interrupted. Necromancers have tried to raise them before and found few will depart the grounds where their battle remains unfinished. Most are bound here by that obsession. If you can actually find any both willing to rise again, -and- willing to leave their final battleground, you may have them. However, -if- they set foot in Frostmaw as an enemy, my lands will reclaim them in that instant." A ripple courses through the frozen fields then, followed by a distant roar from deep beneath the ice, and where cracks have formed in the permafrost, an azure light can be seen as a mark of the magus' binding to the lands.

Leifong had turned to Kasyr, and had in fact began to pass air through the rotting gashes in the sides of his throat through which his voice actually spreads now. Yet as the Queen of Frostmaw steps forward to speak, the priest stops dead and remains silent. Deep down, the Haruspex is a vile, selfish, twisted, pathetic little man full of contempt and choking on his own arrogance. Yet that is not to say he is unable to adequately gauge one's strengths against his own... and being who he is, the Priest always respects power, if nothing else, when it is displayed. There is a strange sort of magic in promises, especially those signed with ones soul, and so it is that Leifong does not take the act likely when he swears, in the eyes of Frostmaw itself. "You have my word, your highness." and the magical resonance of his acceptance to the terms given hangs heavily in his tone. The priest bows once more, but now that he'd been granted permission to finish, he quickly turns away from the Queen and King, waving once at his five remaining servants and urging them on with a bark of "Continue the preparations." The corpses snap into action without hesitation, descending on that heavy metal cage and setting to work pulling it's occupants out into the cold. The moment that the elven prisoners pass through the cage door, their screams become suddenly audible, three youthful although horribly abused looking creatures who fight against their captors and beg for their lives. Yet with their arms bound and their firm handed escorts, none of them have any luck in escaping as they are dragged over to that strange stone dais, the purpose of which suddenly becomes clear. It is an altar, where the elves will spend the last moments of their lives. Leifong busies himself with double checking and inspecting the seal which had been stomped heavily into the snow beneath them, and in the hours of biting wind since work began, the lines have all become rigid and edged in ice.

Kasyr draws one hand up to his chin, a thoughtful expression upon his features upon witnessing this particular 'arrangement'. With a faint nod to the proceedings, the Kensai simply begins to pace over towards Satoshi, intent upon taking a place at her side to simply watch the proceedings. At this point, there was very little reason for him to bother interfering.

Satoshi , like Kasyr, only regards the start of the ritual with a thoughtful expression. The fate of the elves is not her concern, nor the concern of the guards as they too seem relatively uncaring. There is little love for the weak in Frostmaw, apparently. With a nod to Leifong, and an affectionate tug of Kasyr's cattish ear, Satoshi takes a step backwards in the snow and promptly disappears in a flurry. Sure, she'll reappear a short distance away, but it'll be out of sight, as she much enjoys abusing the snow-step ability for dramatic departures--and to keep her guards on their toes as they scramble to keep up with their hoppy queen.

Redhale had been drawn by the pulse of dark magics and the stench of long-frozen blood. He came upon the fields in the form of a moth swarm, each tiny insect somehow surviving the long and lonely trip to Frostmaw so that it could meet with its family. Each velvety pair of wings folded over another body and the chaotic churning of the swarm eventually melded together into a more cohesive form, running into strands and weaving into dark cloth. Soon a towering, if teetering, cloth robe stood nearby, complete only once some of the snow at its feet clumped itself together as it floated upwards to form the pale face that Redhale wore, staring over Leifong's ritual with its ever blank expression.

Leifong suddenly has a wicked little dagger in his hand, one edge straight, the other serrated, and with it he manicures the edges of his interconnecting ley lines as his creations securely chain the elves down and then set off to transport the cage past the array's outermost edge. After another minute or two of work the priest finally seems satisfied, and moves with a sweeping grace over to his captives. His servants all adopt an idle nature, standing like statues off where they will be out of the way. For a second all is quiet stillness, even the elves paying respect to the strange moment as it passes over, and from within that cloud of melancholy rises a dull chant, spoken in a lilting, twisted tongue that very few in these lands still know. Yet rather than spread out from the priest, his words seem to erupt from all around, as though whispered on the wind. It is long, and seems somewhat complicated, yet after a minute or so Leifong raises his hands out to either side, a dagger still held firmly in his right, and in response a muddy red glow bursts into the darkened landscape as crackling mana cuts it's way into the ice, twisting through the pre-cut channels like blood and accentuating a slew of intricately carved runes which had been nearly invisible until now. The flow pulses gently in time with the rhythmic chanting which slowly grows louder and faster, more ferocious as it builds to an apex and then with a complete lack of warning the priest plunges his dagger repeatedly into the face and neck of the elf on the right. His blood spills off the stone dais, and as it makes contact with the glowing light below, a great surge happens, that flow of mana growing more powerful and increasing in intensity. This is then repeated with the elf on his left, and again the flow of energy increases in strength. Yet when he moves to the central elf, her terrified voice drowned out by the volume of the priest's unnatural chant, he doesn't simply kill. Leifong plunges his dagger deep into her chest and then rips violently downward, splitting her open and discarding his blade all in one brutal motion. Wasted, near skeletal digits reach out greedily into the elf who's frame is wracked with violent spasms to tear her heart still twitching from inside, and though the priest will never require sustenance again, he devours it whole without a single modicum of restraint or repulsion. As the last sliver of the elf's warm flesh slides down the priest's throat, the earth below begins to shake, and suddenly the chant is buried under a rapturous roar from deep within the ice. The seal grows so bright now that too look upon it directly might forever burn that image into your eyes, and it only gets brighter, until a blast like an explosion rips across the tundra and the array itself... opens? A great eye spreads wide below within the constraints of that circle, and so much as looking into it brings a sickened feeling to the hearts of men, a deep seeded fear and unnatural loathing for the thing which exists as a very perversion of the natural realm. All at once hundreds of spindly black hands tear their way through ice, bringing with them the tortured, massive, frozen corpses of dozens of giants, still clad for war, and some even still holding their weapons in their hands. One by one they are dangled above the giant eye, and one by one they are either returned to the earth in much the same manner they were torn from it, or they are pulled down into the eye itself and vanish. This continues until each and every one has been 'inspected', then the eye collapses in on itself into a swirling vortex of blazing mana and horrified screams before settling with a 'pop' as a strange puddle of murky blackness, true blackness, from which light does not escape. The priest seems to float above this puddle, his chant now audible again as the roar of unnatural things subsides, and amongst it a separate voice, Leifong's voice, can be heard conversing with whatever lays on the other side of that veil. "Proud warriors, violent souls, lay not here suffering your hunger eternal." each syllable rings out strangely, as though they too were part of some incantation. "Rise again, follow me, and I will ensure that your thirst for war is sated now and forever." for a long moment nothing happens, though the pool remains, and it seems that perhaps none of the forgotten souls will choose the path offered them. Yet then a single hand bursts through the murky black, clawing it's way to the surface and fighting it's way to the shore. Then another, and another, near thirty desiccated giants with glowing red eyes pulling themselves out and gathering alongside the priest. "We will follow..." They echo in unison, and in that moment the pool dies away. His magic nearly spent, the priest stands still once more before that stone alter, all traces and hints of what had transpired here now gone, save for blood on the ground, and a ring of giant warriors given new purpose standing like frozen sentinels around the one who'd granted them freedom.

Redhale stayed back during the ritual, though stopping himself from darting forwards once that warm blood started flowing did take some restraint. Like Leifong he would never need sustenance again but there was something in living flesh that hit him like some kind of drug, and having it flaunted in front of him like that was almost too much temptation. Once the spectacle was done with and Leifong was standing amongst his newly risen giants the dark being did make a move, inspecting the doubly cold corpses as he drew alongside Leifong, "A good find you've made here, I've rarely seen any corpses quite so big hold together so well..."

Leifong takes a moment to collect himself, not panting for he does not require air, but even with his three sacrifices, the ritual had drained him greatly. "Indeed. The Queen was generous to allow me her favor." he replies slowly, and one has to wonder if maybe he knew that Satoshi would be out there somewhere, watching. "These ones are destined to do great things..." the priest shows his exhaustion differently than most, slowing down and seeming to grow faint rather than sway or limp. It was magic alone which kept his twisted frame moving, and when he lost too much energy, the enchantments holding him together weakened. Yet despite this he does manage to make rounds, examining every inch of his new children.

Redhale followed Leifong as he did the rounds, though the dark man had apparently done enough inspecting as his own concentration remained centered mostly around himself, as evidenced by the slight shifting of snow in his immeidate area, pushed back by the force of his aura, "Oh? Do you happen to have any idea what these great things are?" Surely, as the one who raised them, Liefong meant he had great plans for them, unless their destiny had been written before they had been trapped within the ice, and Leifong was simply enabling the continuation of a journey already begun.

Leifong nods "Of course I do. They have been brought back for a purpose." he responds, though apparently he is not too keen on revealing that much of it just yet. With a wave he orders his other minions, now pitiful seeming in comparison, to clean up the area and make it "no less charming and beautiful than it was when I arrived." and then he turns once more to the dark being. "Yet what truly interests me, more even than them," a bony finger is raised to the silent giants "are your plans. I've been hearing strange tales from those brave enough to venture too far in the wilderness around Vailkrin."

Redhale spat out a breathy scoff, "Are they really that strange? People should know what to expect when they wander around those woods, and should really be thankful if they aren't being trussed up by the spiders that scuttle about there." But of course, he knew what the man was talking about, "My little force has been growing for a while now, mostly repurposed tourists, although there are a few real warriors there," Kuzial had so kindly left his men behind after Ginger's funeral... "There are a few big ones too, though not quite so intimidating as this lot." Actually almost all of Redhale's men were intimidating after they had donned their Duregar armour, especially when their rotting faces smiled from beneath thick oily warpaint styled after Redhale's own mask, "Their future, however, is as yet... Hazy."

Leifong waits around idly as his minions finish cleaning up the scene, and then motions for them all to begin a procession back toward the dark lands. "Come with me, friend. I believe we have much to discuss." and then the priest begins the slow trudge back 'home'.

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