RP:Oh, The Places You'll Go

Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc

Summary: After extensive research on the book she found, and after translating the prophecies, Khitti drags Brand to Lionel's home to inform the Knight-Commander of their findings as well as decide on a time to depart for the Shadow Plane.

Síocháin

It had only been a few days since the trip to the desert. In the days between then and now, leading up to when Khitti would decide that it was time to meet with the Catalian prince before their trip, she’d delve into the book and do her best to decipher those odd scraps of paper she’d found. It was rather late at night when the decision had been made, but she had a feeling Lionel wouldn’t be asleep--did he ever really sleep at all? He always seemed so exhausted, but then again, they were all tired, albeit for different reasons. She’d gather her things, stuff them into her satchel, and rouse Dominic and Brand from whatever the dual-minded male had been up to before setting off. Willingly, she’d opt for the wyverns, for there wasn’t enough time in the day (or night, in this case) for wandering through the forest at a human’s pace. The two (three?) would reach the keep in no time, passing by animals galore until they got to the main door to Lionel’s home. There were no formalities, for Khitti typically didn’t care about them, though even if she did now wasn’t the time. Should dwarf, or even that pointy-eared jerk, find them before the knight-commander did, she’d merely say “Sorry. Very important zhings to do. No time to talk. Ve’ll have tea later, “ mumbling various forms of the statement to anyone that passed and seeming very much like that white rabbit from one of her stories that was never on time for anything.

Off on another impromptu adventure. Khitti always seemed to be the one at the helm of these, dragging along Dominic or Brand on some whim or another. Well, perhaps ‘dragging’ was the wrong word -- there had been plenty of times Dominic was eager to accompany (though, less so these days), and occasions where Brand had easily acquiesced. Especially if it was for sparring or booze. But tonight it was neither, and so it was rather curious that Brand held a faint smirk on his face at Khitti’s antics within the keep. It wasn’t one he’d allow her to see, however, as it would vanish out of sight and be replaced by something more neutral whenever Khitti might turn to look at the man.

Sundance is a very large, very stocky, very bearded, very chiseled, even tattooed dwarf. With his arms folded, he looks more like a bear in dwarf's clothes, even, and his voice booms like thunder. "Aye!" He smiles. "Would love to trade tea leaves. I, myself, am fond of hibiscus and ginger." The smile only widens as he permits the pair entry into the keep, joining them in a gallant trot through the scents of baking bread and vanilla by the hearth. "Master Tratt isn't awake just now, nor Master Esche, although I'm quite certain we should all reunite one of these evenings! Ah, but poor Master Shanks..." Sundance's smile becomes a frown. "And Mistress Briar, and Master Stroud... Oh, fate is cruel," he bellows, as he takes two steps up a spiral staircase. "Master Lionel!" The thunder in his voice has returned, and it rather suits the powerful gust of wind which can be heard ripping through the forest. Even emerald-crested stone won't quiet such gales completely. It has been a particularly windy week in Frostmaw and along the mountainside; Sundance shakes his head and winces at the noise, eyeing the roof. "Send them up," a familiar voice beckons. The dwarf moves and waves his hand toward the staircase invitingly; once Khitti and Brand have climbed, they'll find a single wooden doorway, and just beyond it, an even larger library than Lionel had possessed the last time Brand were here. And, mulling over a book on ancient Lithrydelian races, Lionel himself. His back is turned, his black silk dress shirt half-unbuttoned and loose-fitting martial arts trousers are folded up to his ankles. He's sipping from a porcelain cup of Sundance's favorite tea. "Hi."

Khitti would nod to the dwarf, offering a faint smile, “Of course.” There’s a bit of relief on her end when it’s mentioned that Esche isn’t about--if only because it would be one less thing to internally worry about--and then promptly a frown made when Shanks, Briar, and Stroud are mentioned. One of those deaths were, in a way, her fault, and she certainly hadn’t forgotten it. “Zhat’s one vay of putting it, I suppose.” Fate -was- cruel and she was tired of “destiny” and “things happening for a reason” interfering with -her- plans. She was determined to be happy, damn it! She’d give a brief, half-wave to the dwarf as she made her way up the steps hastily and burst through the doorway. “Lionel, ve’re leaving at your--vhoa…” The library immediately derailed her thoughts as she looked around, utterly bewildered by the grandness of it. “Y-you--zhis is--” She couldn’t quite finish what she was trying to say, a few blinks given instead as she almost dropped her bag on the ground. Well, if sweets wasn’t the way to Khitti’s heart, a giant library certainly was (hint hint, Brand).

Brand held his tongue as Sundance spoke of fate, though another glance at Khitti confirmed she more or less shared his thoughts on the matter. Before ascending the stairs behind the vampiress, Brand offered something vaguely like a salute to the dwarf. “I’m sure we’ll be seein’ each other again soon enough. And send my regards to Delenn as well, would you?” Once at the library, Brand slid past Khitti and further into the room; he too cast his eyes around in wonder at the larger scale. “So, you give me a couple books and then get two hundred more to replace them, eh? Where the gorram hell do you find the time to read all these texts?”

Lionel blinks at Brand's question, closing his book and turning around. "I don't," he answers plainly, stepping past them swiftly as he returns the book to its proper place. "Oh, would that I could. But that would require learning what it means to find a day off from all the commotion. And I don't think that'll ever happen. So I tackle it bit by bit. Learn a little more as I go." He returns his gaze to them. "It isn't selfish. Not really. I know I'll never get through all these, but I have Tratt and Esche and Delenn read constantly, and I figure between us I'll remain mildly informed.” The Catalian smirks, stepping up to Khitti, now. "Alright. That's my literary non sequitur for the evening. You didn't come hear to me rant about all the books I'll never get to read. You're here for a reason; I can see it in your eyes."

Khitti’s attention shifted from the multitude of reading material to the blonde that stood in front of her now, “I volunteer as tribute to read all of it vhen everything is done and over vith.” Speaking of which, “Oh. Right. Uh.” That book she found in the tunnels of the desert was retrieved and pages flipped through, “Took me forever to translate zhe damned zhing, but…” She stopped on one page, a series of instructions written in the same language that she’d read before in some of the necromancer books (which looks suspiciously like French--whatever the hell that is), “Ve’re going soon. At your earliest convenience. I know you’ve got a hell of a lot of stuff going on, so I figured likely not zhis veek. Besides, Brand and I need to run to Kelay so I can annoy zhe hell out of zhis girl out zhere and get zhe masks Alvina made for you guys enchanted. But--” She paused and now she actually looked a little uncertain and perhaps a tad bit concerned, “Zhere vere other zhings in zhat side chamber vhere zhe mindflayers vere at...and I managed to translate zhose too.”

Here was where Brand took his cue, fetching a few strips of parchment from his pocket and unfurling them. After clearing his throat he began, his accent somewhat minimized as he recited the text. “ ‘In the season of fire, where the dead flower wilts near the light’s end, two shall be born. One is doomed to perish, untimely, time and time again. One shall trespass the boundaries of shadow and light, and the dead shall rise up in protest.’ “ He cast a glance to Khitti before moving on to the second: “ ‘Two stars shall fall for a third to rise, their curses lingering as putrid foam upon the shore. The two shall find the end of time unreckoned, and they will not understand.’ “ And finally: “ ‘Of the two entwined, siblings but not by birth, one shall be by madness consumed; the other will suffer until they trek across the dark land. There a choice will be made: to fall deeper into the void or to allow the light to shine.’ “ There were yet more papers, but Brand concluded here for now, shifting his stance and peering at Lionel. “Those seem the most immediately relevant, but there were several of these gorram things. Prophecies from different texts, or somethin’. They were all with the book. Some are clearly talkin’ about Khitti -- the notes scribbled along the side make that even more obvious than it would’ve been. Others…” Brand shrugged, frowning.

Lionel cants his head in quiet intrigue as Khitti explains their findings. He's soon turned himself around, but he's lifting a couple more books from their shelves, thumbing over their titles as if feeling text with one's fore thumb has any measurable effect on mental comprehension. He stops, however, when Brand recites their findings. A finger still brushes against a copy of The Farthest Shore, but Lionel's eyes seem to darken, and his muscles tense. He lets go of the book, takes a few steps toward Brand to peer at the parchment, and shakes his head with a sigh. "Man. I really, really, -really- hate prophecies." But he's already grown more relaxed again. Lionel can't help noticing at least a few stray snippets of this stuff has its bearing on present company. Then again, isn't that the trick to writing prophecy? Make sure it's somehow universal enough for ordinary folks to... he stops himself squarely in the mental track, sniffing indignantly. "I suppose there's nothing ordinary about any of us." Without context, it seems a random aside, so he clarifies. "I may hate prophecies, but if shoe fits, wear it. Two entwined, siblings, not by birth? You know who I haven't spoken with in a while?" He doesn't say Dominic's name, but a curious eyebrow waggle just ten degrees off to Brand's right will convey the message just as well. "And the Khitti part speaks for itself. No offense intended," he nods to his Amarrah-addled friend. Another sigh later, Lionel O'Connor crosses his arms. "I refuse to hold you up for long, Khitti. I refuse to do that to you. We leave next week, if possible. No matter what."

Khitti shoved the book back into her bag as she sidestepped away from the two, her fingers twitching anxiously at her sides as she mulled over the very same things she’d been thinking about for half a week.. “Ve don’t know if it -is- about me, but--”. Okay, maybe it was. Maybe it most certainly was, but why? “--zhat explains vhy it vas just me and two others zhat vere experimented on. I had told Dominic about zhem a lot time ago, zhought he vas one of zhem in zhe beginning before I learned more about Brand and zheir past. Zhose two vere also twins, not together, but zhey vere born zhe same autumn as I vas.” She shook her head, pacing somewhat, “Vhat I am certain about is zhat zhose mindflayers vere not any older zhat zhe one I killed in Vailkrin last year. So...maybe...it is true.” The library was no comfort to her now as she started getting antsy. Maybe they shouldn’t go? Why walk right into whatever the hell those papers were saying? “Yeah. Ve’ll go zhen. I don’t know if I’ll need Valen either anymore either. Zhere vas something else besides all of zhose papers and zhe book. I didn’t bring it up again and talk to Brand about it because I vasn’t sure about it. Not after--” She stops, and doesn’t voice the thought about Dominic and the runestone. “--I just don’t trust magical items all that much, “ she said instead. “But, I tried it out...after Brand had gone out for a valk one day…”

Brand’s frown only deepened at that talk of Dominic. “The two of us are many things, but ‘mad’ isn’t one of them.” He spoke firmly enough, but now that the seed of doubt had been planted, snippets of the dream he’d had in Cenril returned to him. Viera had been as unpredictable as ever. Khitti and Dominic had both been in it, too… and then there was that frantic search through text, the great looming letters speaking of a schism that was to end. And that had been -before- they’d uncovered these so-called prophecies, so maybe he really -should- doubt his sanity. In all of this, so preoccupied had Brand become that he almost missed Khitti’s talk of magical items -- ah. Right, the dark orb. The man wheeled upon Khitti now, his thoughts of dreams and prophecies cast aside for the time being. “You did -what- now? While I was gone? An’ what in the seven frakkin’ hells made you think -that- was a good idea?!” It clearly hadn’t, but… what if it had triggered Amarrah’s return again?

Lionel reaches for a chair, seating himself backwards with his legs sprawled out. "I doubt if any surviving Catalians are of totally sound minds," he mutters, before adding: "although, as it were, I'd say you and Dominic have entirely different reasons for being unhinged." He glances up, almost sheepishly. It's an odd look for a man whose bravado and awkward high willpower have always given him a determined -- or at least, deranged -- countenance. "Not saying you are, I guess. But I probably would be, if I'd been on that ship." He shakes his head. "I'm inadvertently changing the subject left and right over here. Jury's out on how crazy we all are, but we're committed, regardless. Committed to solving this, come hell or high fire." To Khitti, now. "You know... I've never actually fought a mindflayer. Never. Not even once. It's just never come up. But the juveniles, they're brash and usually weaker, I think? Maybe?" He tilts his chin at the library. He's learned a few things. "And what's this finding more than just the mindflayers? What did you do, exactly?" He lofts a brow. The man is many things, but one step ahead of Khitti and Brand, he isn't. Perhaps there comes a limit on interdimensional understanding even for a Hero of Hellfire.

Khitti ran her tongue across her teeth impatiently and rolled her eyes as Brand’s chiding was right on cue, “Because if zhe goddamned zhing vas going to blow up in my face, I vasn’t gonna try to use it vhile you vere zhere, alright? So shut up and let me make my own damned decisions every once in awhile. Just because you’re being made to babysit me doesn’t mean you get to lord over every aspect of my life.” She sighed exasperatedly before reaching into her bag again, her words now for Lionel, “Zhat vould explain vhy he died so easily. He vas a bit crazy, zhat one, so zhat also likely helped. He vas zhe one zhat spearheaded zhe whole operation vith zhe necromancers, likely vent mad vith trying to make zhe prophecies true.” Well, it had worked, much to Khitti’s dismay. “As for zhe other zhing, I found zhis.” The vampiress lifted the orb, made of a strange dark crystal, up to the light to show off the purple mist swirling within. “It’s like zhat runestone Dominic had, but better because it’s not draining me. I don’t even have to really focus on it, barely have to try.” Shadowflames ignited along the fingertips of her left hand and grew brighter, stronger, than they’d ever been before. Not only that, but they were mixed with that other strange ability of hers, the shadow orbs--she didn’t tell either of them though that this was the exact thing she conjured in that dream of hers that she’d been in while Amarrah attacked the guild. “Zhere’s zhat and…” With a flick of her wrist, the flame was out and a strange humming would alight their ears. The doorway that Khitti and Brand had come through flickered between their world and a strange foreboding darkness, signaling the shift between planes as the veil between them became quite thin. “I von’t need any help from idiot wannabe shadow mages ever again.” There was almost something sinister about the way she said it, and the slight grin that appeared might be considered concerning, but perhaps maybe she was merely happy about not having to drag Valen along? Yeah. Totally. Definitely.

Brand traded eyerolls with Khitti, unwilling to concede his point. It was something he could address later, though. Alone. The orb was regarded with intrigue, and ever more so as Khitti showed off the various things she could do with it. “An amplifier, then. For shadow magic. Well, the less people the better, I suppose -- though you’d prob’ly best let me hold onto it when it’s not in use.” Foreseeing protest from Khitti, he added hurriedly, “Just ‘til Amarrah’s gone. As powerful as she is when she takes over, imagine if she got a hold of it.” Adjusting a grip on the papers and holding out a hand to receive the orb, Brand added belatedly to Lionel: “Thing is, the ship was the least of everything, really. If I were to go mad, it would’ve happened long before then.” He’d not easily volunteer elaboration on the matter, now or any other time -- but he doubted that prophecy had anything to do with him. Some of the other ones, though… it was all superstitious nonsense, of course, but that hadn’t stopped the chill shooting up his back when he’d read them.

Lionel lifts his legs from his backwards-style perch upon his chair just as dramatically as he'd brought them down, rising momentously at the sight of the orb and the faint outline of a sort of doorway. He approaches it, but only very slightly; keeping his distance seems the wisest counsel. Brand's commentary on the Sunderia -- that's the ship, of course -- is met with only the slightest suggestion of a nod, for now. Instead, the more princely of the Catalian men is positively entranced by this. Something in Khitti's voice sends shades of Amarrah shivering down his back, however, and he tenses again, bracing for the worst of it, yet nothing comes. He swallows hard, scratching at his neck, and reminds himself of all the terrible things they've already been through in life. This is just another milestone. "Heck of a thing," he mumbles. "I agree with Brand, though. Let him carry it. Please." His eyes shimmer through the reflection of the orb's dark energies. Elsewhere in the manse, a shaven-headed elf stirs awake from a dream, his emerald gaze intensifying. "What is this...?" Esche whispers into the cold air of his living quarters, reaching for a glass of water and his nightly robe. Something stirs within Síocháin.

“Vait, vhat? But I--” It was clear that she was -definitely- going to protest against Brand’s insistence that she hand the orb over. Goddamn it, this whole treat Khitti like a prisoner thing was definitely getting old--sure, she understood the reasoning, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Then Lionel joined in, and she could only give the both of them a heavy sigh. “Fine.” The orb was shoved into Brand’s hand with obvious irritation, the portal disappearing immediately, returning the doorway to normal. She had a thousand and one things she wanted to say right then, but she opted for the silent route for the moment as she went to peruse the nearest book shelf. Of course she’d managed to find another fairytale--does Lionel even read the synapses for the books he gets?--and this was one she hadn’t read. It seemed to be about a golden-haired girl who fell in love with a farm boy with many adventures and plot twists to be had. There’s even talk of pirates--oh my! Khitti hm’d for a moment, then turned to eye Lionel, “Can I borrow zhis? I can only read my fairytale book so many times. I know it all by heart, unfortunately, and need something new vhile I’m sitting in zhat room for all hours of zhe day. Don’t really vant to ask either of zhem to go to zhe library right now. Dominic’s barely around and Brand valks too slowly.” Of course, Brand walked quickly enough for a human, but she’d take the opportunity to get in a jab at him and then stick out her tongue in his direction.

“We can’t all shadowstep every-frakkin’-where we go, kiwi,” retorted Brand, unwittingly giving Khitti the exact reaction she’d probably wanted in the first place. That shadowy orb was sparkling in his hand now, and it drew his attention as an idea happened upon him. “Or... can’t we?” Cupping the stone in both hands, the man stared into its depths with intense purpose and began taking a cautious step forwards towards that same doorway that had earlier held Khitti’s portal -- and then, after that great deal of preamble, precisely nothing happened at all. Brand’s frontmost foot reunited with the floor with not a single errant shadow or mysterious purple smoke. He didn’t even sense any dark or foreboding energy emanating from the object in his hands; if he didn’t know any better, he’d claim it was just an ordinary stone, or perhaps that it was broken. “Hmph. Gorram thing’s useless to me. That’s no fun at all.”

Lionel shakes his head at Khitti's inquiry. "You can't borrow it." He pauses for a heartbeat before smirking. "Keep it. I never lend books. Anything you see here, it's yours if ever you like. Clearly, there's no paper shortage." He watches Brand's attempt, tilting his head sideways. As soon as the man proclaims it useless, the door swings open behind him. Esche, in his nightly robe, examines the library before bothering to bring his eyes to those gathered. "Ah," he surmises. "We're all here, then. Is this about the pending mission?" Lionel looks around awkwardly. "Uhh, there are so many of those, you know." Esche scratches his smooth bald head. "A fair assessment. Which reminds me." He turns to Brand, bowing. "I have been reflecting on recent events. I do not believe there was a greater than 10% chance I would have survived without your intervention. You saved my life, ser."

“You’ve neither been trained in zhe dark arts nor have you a murderous shadow creature inhabiting your body, so of course it’s not going to work, dummy.” As if to put salt in Brand’s wound, she shadowsteps over to Brand, jabbing him in the ribs ever so gently with an index finger, “Oh you mean like zhis? Hm. Maybe if you’re -really- nice, I can try to teach you. It comes in handy vhen you’re fighting, as you’ve seen. But zhen again, you’re never nice, so…” She shrugs, and just as she goes to grin at Lionel and thank him, Esche opens the door behind her and scares the hell out of her. Thanks, you jerk. Khitti manages to stifle a shriek, which ended up sounding more like a strained ‘eep, and carefully composes herself. Maybe it was karma for making fun of Brand. Side-stepping away from the Catalian and the elf, she moved closer to Lionel’s side to watch the interaction between the two, whispering loudly, “Zhis must be new for Brand--he -never- saves people.” You know, except all of those times he’s saved Khitti’s ass. As if to cover up her whispering, she said a bit more loudly after letting out an innocent cough, “Zhanks for zhe book, zhen. I’ll tell you how it ends if you’d like.“

Brand’s brain was broken. Well, truth be told, it was -always- a little broken -- but the whiplash of reaction from Esche’s sudden and unwanted appearance to Esche… thanking him?... was a bit too much to handle. It didn’t happen to him often, but here Brand stumbled over his words for a moment before finally managing a mild, “Don’t mention it, really. Would’ve done it for anyone else there, too.” Dammit, he was still an untrustworthy psychic with entirely too much interest in him and Dominic for comfort, but -- alright. Fine. -Maybe- Brand could admit Esche had redeeming qualities. Manners, for one thing. Realizing he was still standing stock-still, Brand stowed the stone away in a pocket and shuffled back to Khitti’s side, grumbling something inaudible.

Lionel snickers. "By all means," he answers Khitti, as Esche waits passively through Brand's momentary lapse and smiles appreciably at the man's eventual words. "Of course," Esche says, and then he's back to looking around the room with a feigned interest. His eyes just happen to come upon Khitti and her book, and, abashed, the elf clears his throat. "I will offer my services during this venture, if such services are sought. If they are not, I will assist with the various meetings in Frostmaw until your safe return."

Khitti eyed Brand curiously as he moved to stand next to her, “You’re grumbling again. Don’t be so grumpy,” she said as she prodded him in the side again, but gently this time. “Ve’ll go soon and you can get back to your sleeping, yeah? I’ve still got plenty of reading to do anyway and I’m sure Lionel vould love if I stopped barging in vhen he’s trying to get some rest.” These poor Catalians. They barely ever got any rest when Khitti was around. To Esche then she’d direct her next words, offering the elf an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry if I voke you up. I can get a little, erm, carried away sometimes.” Of course both Brand and Lionel could attest to that. As for his question, though, she’d give a side-eyed glance to Brand questioningly, but eventually came up with her own decision; if Esche was listening in on their thoughts, she wasn’t about to let him in on things and would just talk to (read: argue with) Brand about it later. “Ah, yes, hm. ‘Zhe mission’. Ve could certainly use your help, Esche. Zhe more help ve get, zhe quicker ve can get back here to assist Lionel and Hilde vith zhe rest of Frostmaw’s issues. If you hadn’t already been informed, zhere’s to be two trips to zhe Shadow Plane: one as a brief scouting mission, just to get a feel for how zhing’s vork zhere and another to get rid of zhe she-devil in my head.”

Brand was hardly super pleased to have Esche invited along on these missions to the Shadow Plane, but Esche was capable, and a good ally to have in a fight. He had to admit the pros outweighed the cons, even as much as having a psychic around gave him the willies. “Right, then. We done here?” Technically, there was still the matter of the other few ‘prophecies’ he’d not yet mentioned, but… whatever, right? There were enough uncanny parallels to bring a shudder even to Brand’s spine, but it was probably all vaguely worded hogwash anyway. Lionel had had a point. You could read these any number of ways.

Esche cants his head agreeably. "I will be ready. It is my honor to assist." Just as quickly as he'd arrived, he departs, leaving Lionel to survey his friends with consideration. "I'd best make ready, myself. We'll travel light, I assume, but even half a day away from Frostmaw tends to breed trouble, uh, exponentially." Suddenly it occurs to Lionel that he misses the day unruly merchants were the worst of the city's problems, and that thought is enough to elicit a weak cough in disdain. "I'll see you two soon." Come what may.