RP:The End of a Shaman

Part of the Of Contracts and Families Arc

Location: Within the Nameless deserts of Gualon

Synopsis: Lanara and Elioyahazer finally set out to meet Jez. A Shaman from his past that has altered the path his life would have otherwise taken. Hubert, is their carriage driver, the same man from before who took them on another deadly mission. What they weren't expecting however, is Jez's compliance and her acceptance of death. She gives Elioyahazer an ominous warning of things to come and states that she is willing to die, knowing that her bargain is complete. The Sandman decapitates her, removes her eyelids and sets her head into a mirror lined box where she will be greeted by the sight of her head for all eternity. It's superstitious nonsense really. Then, he buries it.

The End of a Shaman

Elioyahazer had risen before dawn this morning, taking careful inspection of each and every weapon he intended to bring this day. Even toothpick stands beside him holding a few of the sandman's more outdated items. “Sir, you’re sure you don’t need these?” The old boney butler asks. Partially worried about the fate of his new master; Krawft Jr. “I don’t think I’ll be needing those T-ster. I have enough here to arm a small country, and even then, I won’t be taking it all.” Toothpick gives a sigh, but then brightens up, “What about your lioness, would she perhaps make use of them?” The cinnamon skinned male rolls his eyes. “I doubt it, but you’re more than welcome to ask her yourself.” Despite the racket that is the butler’s mouth, Eli can be found in the downstairs study - behind a door that is usually locked to outsiders. Once all of his things were in order, he begins to don each and every item that he feels will be needed - even if they aren’t. However, what Lanara wouldn’t enjoy is the fact that he has dressed in that crimson garb once more. A keffiyeh and heavy robes blocking the few of his features and body from all. He is truly a menace, though most like him prefer to dress in blacks. Not Eli, for he found that red, hid the color of blood much better. Finally he turns, and waits for Lanara to come and join them both. They were to be off soon, chasing this shaman. Nay demon from his past. And boy oh boy did he have a score to settle with her.


Lanara had risen shortly after Eli had slipped from the bed, taking all of his warmth along, despite the heavy down comforter that covered her form. She had spent the night, and she’d be moving in shortly, once she boxed up all of her belongings from the cottage in Sage Forest. The witch still can’t believe that her desert born was ready to take the next step in their relationship, and a smile graces her lips as she heads to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Before they could plan their future together, Eli had to settle his past, and she was more than willing to accompany him and confront Jez. A part of her mind thinks that Eli will cave, and it will resort to nothing more than verbal accusations and perhaps some threats issued. The other piece thinks it will be a magical showdown between the spell blade and shaman, and result in his faux-caretakers death. Either way, she will be at Eli’s side, and no matter what happens, she plans to back her man and Michael, all the way. Jez had stolen his youth, brainwashed him as a boy and chose the path of a killer for his future. He had lost his mother, his aunt, and never even knew about his biological father. The irreparable damage she had caused was unforgivable in Lana’s eyes, and she’s a little frightened of what –she- may do should she get her hands on this woman. Toothpick enters the kitchen, several weapons in his grasp, and he holds them up to Lana, as though they were some sort of peace offering. At once, she understands his intent, and she gives a firm shake of her head, “No, thank you. My magic is all that I will need, and I have a set of twin daggers that I can tuck into my boots.” Suddenly, her coffee doesn’t taste as morning fresh, and with a sour taste in her mouth, she heads into the next room to rest her eyes on the robed male. It’s true, she prefers Eli out of the traditional garb, though she knows discretion is key for today’s adventure, so no further comment is made. “I’m going to dress quickly, and I’ll be ready to go… How are you holding up, Sandman?”


Elioyahazer produces a smile from beneath the veil of his keffiyeh, though she wouldn’t be privy to it. All that looks upon her are those damnable mutated eyes - looming out from the shroud of shadow cast by his chosen guise. Of course the desert born might seem antsy, ready to settle the issues of his past, but he was already looking to the future. Despite having one thing to settle he couldn’t fathom what this journey would take him on both mentally and physically. When Jez is truly gone from this world, what will he have? What path will he walk? He does have Lanara and her animal sanctuary, but what will become of him? He can’t just become a hopeless layabout pining over the past. Nay for instead he knows that he must move forward into the waves that is life and prepare for its next journey. With another smile and a sigh he responds, “I’m alright Lanara. Just anxious to get this over and put it all behind me. Jez has ruined a lot of things for me, and I believe it’s time that I pay her back, three fold.” Of all the comments he had made, he knew the three fold one might draw up a smile. As if the Sandman himself is becoming the hand of Karma. Obviously, he had no belief in such things, so arguing about it would do no good. But still the thought sets his nerves ablaze. Would Jez be there? “When you’re ready, meet me out front I’ve hired a carriage once more. I’m sure you’ll remember the driver, Hubert. He’s the guy to took us to Gualon to capture that assassin.” Perhaps Elioyahazer preferred this particular persons discretion? Without further word his left hand pulls down the veil enough to offer Lanara a quick kiss and produce those features for her one last time. This journey could be rather dangerous. “I’ll see you outside.” With a nod, he covers that visage up and heads outside where he meets Hubert and climbs inside of the carriage.


Lanara wasn’t sure what sort of condition Eli’s mood would be on this day, though she’s pleasantly surprised to see her ex-assassin making quips about karma, and stating how eager he is to put the past in the past. She couldn’t agree more, and those lush lips curve into a silken smile as he mentions the rule of three, a saying that witches all over the realm held true to their hearts. Lana feels a little anxious about the encounter with Jez, but there was no way she’d miss this for the world. The Sandman needed his Canary at his side, always. Being in his presence allowed the frightened little bird to fly free, and perhaps this time around, she’d unleash the desert born from the binds that tethered him to the nightmare that was his life all those years. They could freely fly into the future together. That is the plan, right? Standing on her toes, she returns the kiss, fully understanding the severity of today. They wouldn’t only be facing Jez, as she wasn’t foolish enough to go unguarded, considering her line of work. “I won’t keep you waiting.” Lana forces all thoughts from her mind, as she dashes up the stairs and clothes herself in a thin set of armor, beneath loosely fitting fabrics, solid black in color. A dagger is hidden in each of her knee-high boots, her long locks are pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and the witch gives herself a quick once over in the looking glass, before she exits the manor and climbs into the carriage. Hubert closes the door behind her, giving them both a curt nod, and Lana sidles up next to Eli, resting her head against his shoulder. “So, what’s the plan?”


Elioyahazer takes a moment to compose himself when Lanara shuffles into the carriage beside him. This would be a long ride - the deserts of Gualon is no easy journey. Hubert has been well paid to ensure their safe arrival. Perhaps that’s the reason why Eli chose this man over and over? The truth is, there is no plan. Not a shred had been created. He couldn’t figure out a weakness or a blind spot. Nor would he assume that Jez would actually be there. But how could he tell her this? And without upsetting her? The cart begins to rumble, and then settle after it takes off; the mellow sound of horse hooves hitting the ground outside is only a minor note. Finally he takes a moment to respond. “Honestly Lana, I don’t have a plan. Other than just showing up.” His voice is soft, but distant - lost in thought as he’s struggled for days over the best way to capture her. “The most likely outcome, is that Jez already knows we are coming.” She had a way with spirits and he can recall many times in his youth where she had received dozens of warnings and foretellings from her spirits. “She has a way with those spirits and the bones.” He wants to laugh out loud suddenly, remembering all the mumbo jumbo nonsense of her antiquated rituals. They were all ridiculous. Ridiculous but effective. “If she knows we are coming, there’s a good chance that she’s not even going to be there now. Even better that we walk into a trap. She’s gone to great lengths to stay hidden from all but customers, and even I couldn’t find a trail to question her whereabouts. Each of her patrons has been so tight-lipped that no one even knows they’ve seen her. Right now, I’m grasping at straws. Those memories which I seem to loathe thinking its the best chance to find her.” Elioyahazer shifts in his seat and pulls free a drink for himself; brandy. At least he could find comfort in that drink and Lanara’s company. “Honestly I can’t say that we will succeed.” He was worried, and as much visible in his tone. Meanwhile the cart takes a few turns and is soon long outside of Cenril, and they are well on their way.


Lanara listens to the gentle clip-clop of the horse’s hooves against the pavement, a welcome reprieve from the worry that nagged at the back of her mind. She’s more worried about how today will mentally affect her sandman, than she is about a battle, or the fact that they both could be killed. His sanity was first and foremost, and a part of her still feels guilt over the fact that it was her magic that shed the light on the truth. If she hadn’t reversed the mind erasure spell that Jez implanted when Eli was a little boy, none of this would be happening. Yet… He’d still be a murder for hire, and have killed his father in cold blood. Could she have lived with that outcome? Since she’d met Eli, they’ve been hunted, and now that the roles were reversed, she still felt as though they were prey. Licking her lips, she prefers silence over speaking, and she lifts her head from Eli’s shoulder, so that he can nurse his worries with brandy. There’s little that she can offer at this point, and they’d see where they stood once they had arrived. The carriage sways lightly as it leaves Cenril and the horse is forced to dig his hooves into the ground as the terrain grows more difficult. Lana hopes that Hubert knows enough about horses to pause at the halfway mark, so the steed can get a few moments rest and some fresh water. On the return ride, he’d also need to graze, but she knows better than to offer any advice, as Eli’s nerves were already rattled. Finally, she speaks, and she quirks a brow. He had –no- plan, well, she couldn’t exactly throw stones, as she winged everything that was ever thrown her way. “We are both intelligent people, Sandman. It’s important to not think with your emotions, and keep focused on your end goal… Which is…? Do you wish to imprison Jez? End her life? Interrogate?”


Hubert is quite the skilled wagoneer, the reigns and gear the horses had equipped where actually enchanted; making the load they carried near weightless. On top of that, they were quite used to long journeys and Hubert is often doing so. He does know how to care for the beasts, and Lanara would find that truth herself. This isn’t the first time she’s been privy to Huberts abilities. Eli thinks upon Lanara’s question thoughtfully. What did he want to do with Jez. “Honestly, I don’t care about her reasonings. It was selfish. So there’s no need to really capture her. And who would imprison a shaman in the middle of the deserts?” His gaze sweeps to her in these moments. The two were truly on their own for this adventure. “I just want her gone. Lifeless. Nothing more than a head in a mirror lined box, buried six feet beneath the earth. The crows can have her carcass.” Rather vulgar when you think about it all, but Elioyahazer’s gloved hand points to a box on the floor of the carriage before taking a long pull of that brandy and offering some to her. He is being completely serious! Eventually, the group reaches the halfway mark, where Hubert climbs down and knocks on the door thrice. “Mr. E, we’ve arrived at the halfway marker, feel free to come out and stretch your legs for a while.” Without further word, he’s off to care for his horses, who are less winded than you might believe. “Do you want to step outside Lana or stay inside?”


Lanara is relieved when they reach the halfway point and Hubert seems to know enough about equine care. She fully believes Eli as he points to the box and claims he wants Jez’s lifeless body to be buried inside, and she replies with a nod. She’d prefer if the hellspawn was joining the deceased, too, as it would give Eli the closure that he deserved, so that he could begin anew with his life. “I’d love to stretch my legs… Join me?” She takes the offered brandy and takes a small sip, enough to burn her throat, though not enough that she’d feel its effects. It’s merely for show, after all, as she doesn’t bother to give the bottle back to her sandman. He needed to have his eyes on the goal, and liquor wouldn’t allow him to keep a clear mind. Sliding from the carriage, the elf stretches her arms and legs, bending in this way and that, her dark hues forever glued to Eli’s form. She’s visibly worried about him, about what could happen, and she’s unsure how to reach him. Would merely being at his side be enough? Was there something she could say to lessen his anxiety? The neighing of the horse draws her back to the moment and she walks over to Eli and wraps her arms around his middle, looking up into his eyes, “Hey… I know this is difficult, but I’m here for you. And… I’m proud of you. Not many know this…” Only three, to be exact. She hopes he reads between the lines, because she’s not prepared for an emotional outburst, should she have to answer any questions. “But my father abused me in –every- way imaginable… For years. And I never once was able to face him, or to seek vengeance. My sister and ex-fiancé ended his life, and were it not for them; I’d not have been the person I am today. I’m whole again. Still, I wish that it was –I- who took his life, as I’ve never fully gotten that closure. You will have that moment today, to avenge your youth and all that you’ve lost.” Lana gives him a gentle smile, before standing on her toes and planting a chaste kiss to his lips. “We got this.”


Elioyahazer gives Lanara a glance when she takes that brandy and does not return it. He needed that, thankfully there are reserves in the carriage that she doesn’t know about; he’d get to those later. Regardless, Elioyahazer climbs out of the cart behind her and stretches his own legs while Hubert deals with the horses. He takes a moment to listen to her words and the story of her past. Like her, he is sure that he will be the one to end things. But he can’t help but think of what he will do to this shaman. Will he break and just go berserk? Will he eviscerate her with every fiber of his being or will it be quick and painless? He has no clue. When Lanara goes to plant that kiss, Eli halts her. Only for a moment and that’s to pull the veil shrouding his features down and out of her way - he then plants a kiss on her with a wink. “Jez will be no more soon enough.” With a nod, he re-dons that mask and Hubert states that the horses are ready once again. Eli waves towards the cart and heads that way himself. Once inside he takes up residence within and readies himself for the remainder of the journey. “Feel free to nap you two, I’ll wake you when we arrive.” Huberts words echo out after Lanara enters and he closes the door behind them. Once more the cart starts to move and the sound of hoofbeats mention it to all inside the carriage. “I know I can do this, you’re here with me.” Sooner or later the duo would find themselves deep within the deserts of Gualon, nearing the location he thought to catch Jez at.


The rest of the journey passes by with companionable silence, as after a good thirty minutes, Lana’s head lolls to the side and she takes a small nap. She hadn’t been getting too much sleep as of late, as she had so much on her mind. Event planning, guild related matters, moving to Cenril, and of course, worry about her desert born. It’s surprising that she can sleep, for the carriage jolts and sways every so often, but Lana doesn’t stir until they come to an abrupt stop. Slowly, her eyes open and she meets Eli’s gaze, knowing that the time was now. Before they make their exit, the witch takes a minute to fully wake up, so that she’s alert and prepared for whatever comes their way. She checks to make certain the daggers are in place, her armor is firm against her form, and her ponytail is tightly clasped. “I’m ready. Shall we?” Lana waits for Eli’s affirmation, before they would head outdoors.


Elioyahazer doesn’t even need to check his wares; he’s done so a million times while Lanara slept. Even snuck himself a little more brandy while she nodded off next to him. “I guess,” he heaves out with a long, dramatic sigh. It’s now or never. The desert born climbs out of the cart and looks off into the distance, where a faint orange glow can be seen reflecting off of the rocks. A finger points in the direction, “There’s a fire, so at least someone is there.” He coughs and shakes his head. The dry desert air always gets to him for the first few minutes, but he adjusts rather quickly. He is ever hopeful that it will be Jez, as it should be. “Hubert, take no chances and stay onguard.” The ex desert dweller begins the long trek out to where this campsite would be. His jaw clenching and re-clenching the entire time and if Lanara could see the stress she’d probably slap him. Everything he is boils down to these few moments. His heart begins to race. Desperately beating within his chest. Would this be it? Finally the camp is before the two and the form of Jez can be seen standing just beyond the flames. Hair blacker than the night before them; left a mess of curls and decorations built of bones to pin it in odd places. A chiding grin besmirches her painted visage, while the weathered hag raises a single digit and flicks it back and forth. “Shame you’ve returned, son of a slave.” She raises an eyebrow to Lanara’s presence, but still encompasses that broad grin. “And I see the spirits didn’t lie, the woodland witch is with you.” A single hand reaches for a pouch that dangles from a leather belt around her waist. “This day has long since been in the making, I’m afraid. You’ll get no satisfaction from killing me. No answers to your past and the closure you expect to find will crumble. You have no identity.” Jez stops finally, without putting up a fight thus far. “But this I promise you Eli Krawft. My magic has begun, and the weavings I have made with the spirits will bring you struggles until your dying days. Beasts, and creatures you have yet to even fathom will hunt you. Haunt you. Bring you pain. Turned on to your existence by my own spells. Kill me if you wish, I die knowing I have fulfilled my end of the bargain.” She gives no more words, and calmly pulls the powder from that pouch, tossing it into the fire; which turns and glows a purple hue. Finally the spirit shaman sits - holding her head high; awaiting the outcome.


Lanara isn’t a fan of the desert, as sand constantly threatens to blind her sights and spill into her mouth with each taken breath. For one who is so attuned with nature, she’s seriously considering doing an altar devotion and talking to her Goddess about reworking the oasis so that it’s easier to navigate. Who would want to live all the way out here? Walking miles upon miles until you find civilization, enduring the wicked sandstorms, the lack of water and shade, all of it point to a big mental ‘X’ in Lana’s mind. She would never build a home in the desert. The witch is mostly silent as they walks towards the flickering light of the campsite, despite a few racking coughs thanks to that damned ground dust they keep kicking up. She should have worn one of her robes, or at least a scarf. Why didn’t she think about this stuff, before leaving the house?! Suddenly, Eli’s attire makes perfect sense, and she knows it’s more than a fashion statement for the ex-desert dweller; it was a means of survival, as well as cloths to keep his identity a secret. Finally, they arrive at their destination, and Jez and Lanara lock eyes, the witch scowling at the shaman, as though she were some foul beast dredged from the depths of hell. There isn’t any fear in the shaman’s gaze, she speaks matter-of-factly, and she doesn’t seem all that concerned about the fact that Eli has come to kill her where she stands. Lana expected the woman to cower in fear, or call several guards to her side for protection. She had –not- considered the fact that Jez was fully prepared to meet her demise. Dark chocolate hues narrow on the form of the shaman, her jaw is clenched, and she watches as the fire seems to come to life, once the shimmering powder is fed to the flickering flames. The woodland witch knows that a spell of this magnitude, paid in the price of blood, would be irreversible. Eli’s fate was a certainty, but Lana’s blessing would help him along the way, possibly, with the beasts that Jez spoke of, as she had the gift of animal empathy. A step forward is taken, as though an invisible cord were aiming to pull the two opposing forces together, and it’s then that Lanara snaps out of her darkest desire, and she flicks her gaze to Eli. This was –his- moment, his kill, his life that had been destroyed. She wouldn’t take this from him, no matter how strong the force was that awoken her inner need to evoke karmatic justice on one that relished in dark magic. “Sandman…It’s time.” For questions? Jez’s death? To leave and never return? Her words hang in the air, because she would support this ex-assassin, no matter what the outcome.


Elioyahazer has listened to her voice long enough. This trifling matter would be over soon. The only monster he feared to look back on was her. That sarcastic, sadistic grin which erased all that he could have been. Destroyed the life he could of had. Stole the childhood that was once his. She is the only thing that haunts his mind. The only thing that he loses sleep over. These magical beasts she refers to is met with a sneer. Ridiculous. The assassin heeds none of her words and steps forth with determination. Every step seems to cover miles within his mind. The distance between them closes and he is upon her like a demon in the night. A mirage within the deserts errant and sandy wind - here to erase the existence of this shaman. The eery purple glow cast upon his form only further disturbs his visage. His blade is drawn and cast out, severing her head much like Riordans own. But he knows the secrets, those things people do not want you to know. He snatches the head up buy a fist full of her hair, pulls the veil of his keffiyeh down, and makes direct eye contact with Jez’s brown eyes. The object he stares into flick once to his direction - but Eli stares into the depths of this woman until those final precious seconds of life she still has left, leave her entirely. “Let’s go,” Elioyahazer calls out and turns to face Lanara, taking the head with him but leaving the body. The assassin isn’t in the most cheerful of moods and is instead still seething. When they return to the cart, he pulls that box from out of the carriage and throws her head inside. “I’ll need a bit to bury this.” If Lanara looked she would see that it is indeed a mirror lined box, where her head could not escape the vision of her without a corpse. To further complete this blasphemous act, he pulls a rather sharp knife from his belt and removes the eyelids from Jez’s head and then closes the box - locking it with a sturdy iron lock. Hubert climbs down from the cart, “It’s over then?” His gaze moves from Eli to Lanara, but he hands the desert born a shovel. It seems that Eli would keep to his word and bury the head for eternity. “I’ll return shortly,” Elioyahazers voice rings out, ignoring anything Lanara might have said up until this point in time. His form heads about thirty yards away and begins to dig.


To be completely truthful, Lanara is severely disturbed by Elioyahazer’s actions, although they are well-deserved on the part that Jez had played. This shaman robbed him of his childhood, murdered his aunt, tore him from his only living family member, and set him on a path of brutality which would haunt him forever. She had earned her death. Lana remains silent during the beheading; she walks at Eli’s side as they return to the carriage, warily watching him from her line of sight. She’d seen him kill before, but there’s something different in this one, as it was beyond personal. He had a grimace of sadistic satisfaction etched into his features, and she knows better than to ruin this moment with a word or touch. The witch gives a nod to Hubert as he delivers the shovel to Eli, and she pales as the eyelids are sliced from Jez, and her head is tossed carelessly into a mirror-lined box. This belief is foreign to Lana, but it somehow seems fitting, given all that Jez had done to her ex-assassin. She half expected Eli to leave the body in the desert, for the coyotes and vultures to dine upon, but he gives her a somewhat proper burial. Should she assist? She weighs her options, and decides it’s best to give the desert born some space, as he had waited for this moment and it had now be fulfilled. Hubert tends to the horses and makes certain that all is well with the carriage, as Lana leans against the side, keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding area. Who knew if Jez truly had been camping out here by herself? There could be others, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and she would keep a look out until Eli returned. Once he makes his way back, covered in dirty and blood, Lana would close the distance and press her form against his in a tight hug. “Lean on me, Sandman. It’s okay…” The witch wouldn’t say anything further, as her intent was clear. She’d be all that he needed in this life, without questions or expectations.


If Elioyahazer is bothered by his own actions, it clearly didn’t show. He does however respond to her embrace with his own, squeezing her for a few precious moments. He gives a deep huff of air; shedding off the past within her embrace. “It’s over Lanara. She’s gone. The assassins. All of it. We can finally breathe.” When their contact breaks, he further reveals his thoughts. “I know Lanara. I know.” He smiles at his witch and follows her to the carriage. Leaving the box buried for an eternity and the shovel where it lays. The deserts can keep its shaman for Elioyahazer no longer had need of her. Of her deeds. Of the stain she had left upon his life. Now, he had Lana, and a new life. Though he still needed a direction for himself. Finally Elioyahazer looks to Hubert, “Take us home please.” With a nod, the coachman closes the door behind them and the horse drawn carriage whisks them away; off to the manor in Cenril where they can both relax a little.