The 17th of Ash, 4621
Another night in his pen, laying on a pile of covered hay, wide awake and staring at the eroded red brick ceiling. He’d never thought about it before, but they were treated like animals to the letter. Trained into domestication, left to roam in the day with daily tasks, rounded up and locked away at night, fed whatever their masters didn’t eat… Disposed of when they were of no use anymore.
Arkash rolled over in his pile of hay with a push of his sore back, and looked to the empty pile beside him. The girl that once laid there, a slight elf with pretty golden eyes, had fallen off a ladder and broke her arm just a few days ago. She’d tried to continue her work despite her untreated injuries, and did rather well considering she only had one arm to work with… But her cries of pain were too disruptive to the mages and the Halamire, and she was treated as a problem; emancipated entirely. What became of her, he didn’t know. She was gone, had been since the sixteenth, and not one other slave seemed to bat an eye despite the empty space she left behind.
He didn’t know why he cared to note her disappearance, it wasn’t as though she was any sort of important to him. What did it matter if his fellow cellmate was suddenly culled without remorse? He supposed he’d be next if he too became a disruption.
But such a fate could only fall upon those that belonged in the pen, right? Arkash wasn’t like the others, he wasn’t as he tried to present himself; a weak, broken thing without hope for a life beyond shackles. No, Arkash was a monster, so far from mortal and so far from hopeless. He was a creature of the night hiding in human skin. He stalked shadows and preyed upon unsuspecting villagers, Halamire, and the mages of Valtoria. Not only that, but he’d proven himself a dangerous and capable creature time and time again in a life so very far from the streets of Valtoria.
He wasn’t like the others that belonged in that hopeless place; he could leave whenever he wanted. The Rath stayed out of choice, not because he wanted to serve, but because he wanted to learn the art of Necromancy. That night was the apex of his opportunity, however. Raphael had taken leave from the fortress. For what reason, Arkash was unknowing. All he knew was that the Laboratory would be unoccupied, and his chance to unlock the safe and practice with the tools there was prime.
A deep exhale left his nostrils as he rolled back to look at the ceiling, then peered across from him to spy Eira, who slept soundly. He didn’t think she belonged there, either; she had her own strength of character, even if she preferred to suppress her outward complaints and instead suffer on in silence. He found his thoughts occupied by methods of helping her, ways to strengthen her will to a point that she was comfortable asserting it. Despite those thoughts, he couldn’t muster the desire to change her. She was imperfect, but perfectly.
A smile crossed his lips while he thought, then dismissed said thoughts as he sat up in the hay pile, and listened about the room. All the heartbeats that surrounded him were slow, steady. Deep sleep had claimed all those in the pen, and Arkash was free to escape for the night. Nothing would stop him from learning Necromancy, only half a month into his capture, at last!
It was in silence that he slipped across the room and swept his solidified blood ball to the keyway of the cell’s wooden door. A press of his ear to the surface yielded no sound on the other side; he was free to go. He began to shape the hardened, black ball with a push of his ether, which he channeled through to telescope into the keyway. With ease, he pressed against the locking pins, then rotated the tumbler once the door was unlocked. As the mechanism clicked, Arkash paused. His ears perked at the sound of sabatons; heavy metal boots coming down the hall.
His whole body went still, and he held the door fast as the Halamire passed, but his hearing remained keen to the beating hearts of his fellow slaves. The trounce of boots often woke some of them, as they were restless. Thankfully, they’d been worked just hard enough that day to see them all sleep soundly through the night. With a soft exhale, the Rath gently pushed the door open just enough to slip through, then withdrew the Omni-tool that was his black blood, and gently closed the door behind him. A turn of the tumbler saw the door click locked once more.
Arkash exhaled. From that point on, he was breaking the rules. If anyone happened upon him, it was game over. What was he to do except assume his true form? No, that wouldn’t do. His human feet were much quieter on the cut stone floors. He would make less noise as he was, at least until he managed to trim his claws.
So, he moved quickly and quietly down the hall. One foot after the other, Arkash neared the corners of the hall and waited with keen hearing for anyone that might happen upon him. Thankfully, most of the night watch was outside of the building, with just a few Halamire and mages on patrol within the walls for the sake of waking the others in the event of an attack.
With so little activity in the walls, Arkash was able to quickly make it to the lower floors, where the laboratory lay hidden under layers of earth and rock. Little effort and consideration were spent unlocking the X-shaped keyway that barred his entry, as Arkash didn’t have to take his time. There was no one inside, no one with any reason to visit the lower floors at that hour. It wasn’t as though the Hyr’Norai could invade through solid rock, after all. So, he let himself in and closed the door behind him…. Just in case.
The dank, musty room was much the same as it was when he’d left it last, but something about the chill in the air excited him. Perhaps it was knowing that he would finally accomplish what it was that he’d hung around the noble to do? He would finally begin experimenting with necromancy, all that had to be done was the cracking of the safe, and then the collection of the mage’s tools.
With something of an exhausted sigh, the Rath took a knee at the cupboard and opened the doors in the same instance. At once, he noticed that some of the tomes that were stacked beside the wrought iron safe were gone. He flexed his brow at that, but shrugged it off as having been misplaced elsewhere, maybe in the lord’s study?
A little more ether was spent telescoping part of his blood ball past the gap in the safe door, and then a little more to make it solid again. Arkash applied pressure to the bar to strain the locking mechanism. He’d not opened a combination dial before, but whenever he picked locks, he always started by applying pressure to the tumbler. Perhaps opening a safe could be done in the same fashion? Focus took his eyes, and he leaned in to press his ear to the safe door.
After taking note of how the dial was set, Arkash began to turn the stiff dial, which yielded a series of small clicks through the metallic barrier. His eyes narrowed to a glare as he slowly turned the combination radial, then opened them wide when a sharper click sounded from within the metal. A look was cast to the number on the dial, but he found that he didn’t recognize the numbers written on it; they were all in Gentaverse, which he didn’t understand. Regardless, he shaped the symbol to the best of his ability in his blood bar, then began to turn the dial again in the opposite direction. Another sharp click sounded, and he once again took note on his Omni-tool.
Digit by digit, Arkash followed the sharper clicking sounds until he’d hit four different characters, then on the fifth, the mechanism buckled with a creak, and the door opened an inch or two. Arkash stared wide-eyed as his excitement returned, and he cast the tool to the floor before he pulled the door open with haste…
Empty.
The safe was empty, cleared out. Arkash frowned. How could that be? He’d looked everywhere else in the lab, where were the tools? Necromancy was a world magic, he could not perform it without the necessary tools. Was the safe just a rouse? Defeated, the rath pressed his forehead to the table edge and sighed exasperatedly. After all the time he’d spent trying to break into the lab and the safe, it was all for naught. He stared blankly, thinking of where they might be… Until his eye caught something of interest on the safe’s floor.
His features pulled as he lifted his head, and moved his hand to swipe along the black metal, where he found dust. There were outlines of dust on the safe floor, meaning something that often found its resting place inside was taken recently. Hope began to quicken the beat of his heart before realization hit him: his master was away.
Arkash cursed, and brought his fist to the desk in a burst of rage. Raphael had taken the tools with him, wherever he went. It was the only explanation that made any sense. After all, why would a Necrodoctor as revered as he was have a big empty safe in his lab? He wouldn’t, he’d utilize the space for his most prized possessions… And he certainly wasn’t fool enough to leave them behind when he went away, apparently. With a scoff, Arkash closed the safe and reset the dial to where he’d originally found it, collected his Omni tool, and inspected the code as he stood. At least he had the combination, he supposed, then looked up from his tool to spy the jars atop the shelves across the room. They were reorganized from the last time Arkash was there.
Blind hope begged the question; had Raphael hid the tools somewhere up there while he was away? He didn’t think it could hurt to check, so the Rath walked on over and set his Omni-tool down before he began to inspect the jars. His natural night vision was helpful in a lot of circumstances, but let him down when he was peering through a liquid, which was what the jar appeared to be filled with… At least until he tilted it, and several eyes emerged from the darkened fluid, bobbing on the surface like little apples.
Arkash blinked as he made eye contact, then promptly set the jar back on the shelf. A chill ran down his spine as he continued to search through the jars, but found no evidence of the tools or their whereabouts. It was rough, but despite his hopes and excitement, he wasn’t learning Necromancy that night.
As he opened the door to the lab, he paused. A strong feeling of forgetting overcame him, like he’d left something wrong in the room. He looked over his shoulder to the cupboard, then to the jars. He held his gaze on those jars for half a minute before he shook his head and left, closing and locking the door behind him. Arkash shook his head again in an effort to dismiss the thought that he’d forgotten something, but it clung to the forefront of his mind. Then like a wagon, it hit him. Arkash froze part-way through ascending the stairs, he began to tremble, then reached for his face.
In that first jar, two of the eyes he’d seen were a pretty shade of gold.
Another night in his pen, laying on a pile of covered hay, wide awake and staring at the eroded red brick ceiling. He’d never thought about it before, but they were treated like animals to the letter. Trained into domestication, left to roam in the day with daily tasks, rounded up and locked away at night, fed whatever their masters didn’t eat… Disposed of when they were of no use anymore.
Arkash rolled over in his pile of hay with a push of his sore back, and looked to the empty pile beside him. The girl that once laid there, a slight elf with pretty golden eyes, had fallen off a ladder and broke her arm just a few days ago. She’d tried to continue her work despite her untreated injuries, and did rather well considering she only had one arm to work with… But her cries of pain were too disruptive to the mages and the Halamire, and she was treated as a problem; emancipated entirely. What became of her, he didn’t know. She was gone, had been since the sixteenth, and not one other slave seemed to bat an eye despite the empty space she left behind.
He didn’t know why he cared to note her disappearance, it wasn’t as though she was any sort of important to him. What did it matter if his fellow cellmate was suddenly culled without remorse? He supposed he’d be next if he too became a disruption.
But such a fate could only fall upon those that belonged in the pen, right? Arkash wasn’t like the others, he wasn’t as he tried to present himself; a weak, broken thing without hope for a life beyond shackles. No, Arkash was a monster, so far from mortal and so far from hopeless. He was a creature of the night hiding in human skin. He stalked shadows and preyed upon unsuspecting villagers, Halamire, and the mages of Valtoria. Not only that, but he’d proven himself a dangerous and capable creature time and time again in a life so very far from the streets of Valtoria.
He wasn’t like the others that belonged in that hopeless place; he could leave whenever he wanted. The Rath stayed out of choice, not because he wanted to serve, but because he wanted to learn the art of Necromancy. That night was the apex of his opportunity, however. Raphael had taken leave from the fortress. For what reason, Arkash was unknowing. All he knew was that the Laboratory would be unoccupied, and his chance to unlock the safe and practice with the tools there was prime.
A deep exhale left his nostrils as he rolled back to look at the ceiling, then peered across from him to spy Eira, who slept soundly. He didn’t think she belonged there, either; she had her own strength of character, even if she preferred to suppress her outward complaints and instead suffer on in silence. He found his thoughts occupied by methods of helping her, ways to strengthen her will to a point that she was comfortable asserting it. Despite those thoughts, he couldn’t muster the desire to change her. She was imperfect, but perfectly.
A smile crossed his lips while he thought, then dismissed said thoughts as he sat up in the hay pile, and listened about the room. All the heartbeats that surrounded him were slow, steady. Deep sleep had claimed all those in the pen, and Arkash was free to escape for the night. Nothing would stop him from learning Necromancy, only half a month into his capture, at last!
It was in silence that he slipped across the room and swept his solidified blood ball to the keyway of the cell’s wooden door. A press of his ear to the surface yielded no sound on the other side; he was free to go. He began to shape the hardened, black ball with a push of his ether, which he channeled through to telescope into the keyway. With ease, he pressed against the locking pins, then rotated the tumbler once the door was unlocked. As the mechanism clicked, Arkash paused. His ears perked at the sound of sabatons; heavy metal boots coming down the hall.
His whole body went still, and he held the door fast as the Halamire passed, but his hearing remained keen to the beating hearts of his fellow slaves. The trounce of boots often woke some of them, as they were restless. Thankfully, they’d been worked just hard enough that day to see them all sleep soundly through the night. With a soft exhale, the Rath gently pushed the door open just enough to slip through, then withdrew the Omni-tool that was his black blood, and gently closed the door behind him. A turn of the tumbler saw the door click locked once more.
Arkash exhaled. From that point on, he was breaking the rules. If anyone happened upon him, it was game over. What was he to do except assume his true form? No, that wouldn’t do. His human feet were much quieter on the cut stone floors. He would make less noise as he was, at least until he managed to trim his claws.
So, he moved quickly and quietly down the hall. One foot after the other, Arkash neared the corners of the hall and waited with keen hearing for anyone that might happen upon him. Thankfully, most of the night watch was outside of the building, with just a few Halamire and mages on patrol within the walls for the sake of waking the others in the event of an attack.
With so little activity in the walls, Arkash was able to quickly make it to the lower floors, where the laboratory lay hidden under layers of earth and rock. Little effort and consideration were spent unlocking the X-shaped keyway that barred his entry, as Arkash didn’t have to take his time. There was no one inside, no one with any reason to visit the lower floors at that hour. It wasn’t as though the Hyr’Norai could invade through solid rock, after all. So, he let himself in and closed the door behind him…. Just in case.
The dank, musty room was much the same as it was when he’d left it last, but something about the chill in the air excited him. Perhaps it was knowing that he would finally accomplish what it was that he’d hung around the noble to do? He would finally begin experimenting with necromancy, all that had to be done was the cracking of the safe, and then the collection of the mage’s tools.
With something of an exhausted sigh, the Rath took a knee at the cupboard and opened the doors in the same instance. At once, he noticed that some of the tomes that were stacked beside the wrought iron safe were gone. He flexed his brow at that, but shrugged it off as having been misplaced elsewhere, maybe in the lord’s study?
A little more ether was spent telescoping part of his blood ball past the gap in the safe door, and then a little more to make it solid again. Arkash applied pressure to the bar to strain the locking mechanism. He’d not opened a combination dial before, but whenever he picked locks, he always started by applying pressure to the tumbler. Perhaps opening a safe could be done in the same fashion? Focus took his eyes, and he leaned in to press his ear to the safe door.
After taking note of how the dial was set, Arkash began to turn the stiff dial, which yielded a series of small clicks through the metallic barrier. His eyes narrowed to a glare as he slowly turned the combination radial, then opened them wide when a sharper click sounded from within the metal. A look was cast to the number on the dial, but he found that he didn’t recognize the numbers written on it; they were all in Gentaverse, which he didn’t understand. Regardless, he shaped the symbol to the best of his ability in his blood bar, then began to turn the dial again in the opposite direction. Another sharp click sounded, and he once again took note on his Omni-tool.
Digit by digit, Arkash followed the sharper clicking sounds until he’d hit four different characters, then on the fifth, the mechanism buckled with a creak, and the door opened an inch or two. Arkash stared wide-eyed as his excitement returned, and he cast the tool to the floor before he pulled the door open with haste…
Empty.
The safe was empty, cleared out. Arkash frowned. How could that be? He’d looked everywhere else in the lab, where were the tools? Necromancy was a world magic, he could not perform it without the necessary tools. Was the safe just a rouse? Defeated, the rath pressed his forehead to the table edge and sighed exasperatedly. After all the time he’d spent trying to break into the lab and the safe, it was all for naught. He stared blankly, thinking of where they might be… Until his eye caught something of interest on the safe’s floor.
His features pulled as he lifted his head, and moved his hand to swipe along the black metal, where he found dust. There were outlines of dust on the safe floor, meaning something that often found its resting place inside was taken recently. Hope began to quicken the beat of his heart before realization hit him: his master was away.
Arkash cursed, and brought his fist to the desk in a burst of rage. Raphael had taken the tools with him, wherever he went. It was the only explanation that made any sense. After all, why would a Necrodoctor as revered as he was have a big empty safe in his lab? He wouldn’t, he’d utilize the space for his most prized possessions… And he certainly wasn’t fool enough to leave them behind when he went away, apparently. With a scoff, Arkash closed the safe and reset the dial to where he’d originally found it, collected his Omni tool, and inspected the code as he stood. At least he had the combination, he supposed, then looked up from his tool to spy the jars atop the shelves across the room. They were reorganized from the last time Arkash was there.
Blind hope begged the question; had Raphael hid the tools somewhere up there while he was away? He didn’t think it could hurt to check, so the Rath walked on over and set his Omni-tool down before he began to inspect the jars. His natural night vision was helpful in a lot of circumstances, but let him down when he was peering through a liquid, which was what the jar appeared to be filled with… At least until he tilted it, and several eyes emerged from the darkened fluid, bobbing on the surface like little apples.
Arkash blinked as he made eye contact, then promptly set the jar back on the shelf. A chill ran down his spine as he continued to search through the jars, but found no evidence of the tools or their whereabouts. It was rough, but despite his hopes and excitement, he wasn’t learning Necromancy that night.
As he opened the door to the lab, he paused. A strong feeling of forgetting overcame him, like he’d left something wrong in the room. He looked over his shoulder to the cupboard, then to the jars. He held his gaze on those jars for half a minute before he shook his head and left, closing and locking the door behind him. Arkash shook his head again in an effort to dismiss the thought that he’d forgotten something, but it clung to the forefront of his mind. Then like a wagon, it hit him. Arkash froze part-way through ascending the stairs, he began to tremble, then reached for his face.
In that first jar, two of the eyes he’d seen were a pretty shade of gold.
