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[Arkash]

47th of Frost, 4622

The taste of iron was a mere memory to the Dranoch's palette by the time they'd made it to the kitchen. His glassy eyes glossed over the pile of dishes he'd used prior, every scrap of food consumed. All that remained were stains on the porcelain plates, most of which had been smeared with the imprint of a tongue. No knives or forks were used to macerate the food, and no water had been drawn to wash it down.

Despite all that he'd eaten, Arkash sat at the island in the kitchen with his hands over his stomach, starving. Bad hunger laced with his stare at the black metal oven as it was built into the smooth-cut stone wall.

He breathed deeply through his nose and filled his chest with the rush of air, held it for a moment, and then raggedly exhaled through his mouth.

Clean, chipped nails dug into the leather of his tunic while he tried his best to keep his eyes off the chef.

"This is..." He began, voice clear of any accent, yet muddied with its low raspiness. "...Not common," he fell into a brief silence.

"I don't often... Uhh..." He swallowed, mouth dry. "Catch and release... It's usually just the catching, the biting, the ripping, the snapping..." He trailed on as he began to salivate, then promptly swallowed when he caught himself. "Taking just a little bit of blood is like... taking some skin from an apple and leaving the rest, without biting into the sweet, juicy flesh... of the fruit."

Arkash clasped his hands together and brought his elbows to his sides. "...I can count on one hand the people I've only tasted. You're quite special," he said with a firm frown quite matter of factly. "It takes an awful lot of willpower to stop myself from eating the rest... It- It's compulsive."

He smiled a little, but still refrained his gaze from the Alistian thief.

"I'm sorry," he broke a brief silence. "I didn't just spare you because you're good-looking; I spared you because I recognize the magic you use."

"You're Nightfallen, aren't you?" He finally dragged his eyes to the rogue. "That was umbralplasm that you summoned, wasn't it?"

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[Gloomcrest]

47th of Frost. 4622

It was a massive surprise as to how much Arkash could eat, despite making some of the heartiest food available based on his knowledge of Daravinic cuisine; This particular Lorien huntsman just kept on eating and eating. At this rate, the dark-skinned man could empty the entire kitchen’s worth of foodstuffs that had been prepared; In fact, the Alistian chef had to dip into some of his prepared rations to assist in attempting to sate the lone wolf’s appetite.

“Geez… You eat like you haven’t seen a good meal in years… What the fuck, man?”

Jared’s voice seemed more relaxed upon returning to the kitchen, and he started to get his head back into cooking, a hobby that the thief enjoyed based on the faintest of smiles creeping upon his lips when he was sure that there wasn’t anyone looking at his form whilst he was preparing additional food for later down the line.

The thief couldn’t help but look astonished as piles of plates would quickly grow in size; The fact that the Dranoch in question was simply eating with his bare hands and licking the plate clean with his tongue suggested he needed to find a solution in regards to quell this hungry that seem never to end.

A faint memory of starving on the cold, cobblestone streets of Alistian causes the thief to flinch for a moment, grasping his right arm tightly as he attempts to control his tics. Closing his eyes for a moment, the amber-eyed chef takes a moment to listen to his surroundings, letting his stifled breath let loose before taking in a deep breathe, furrowing his brows for a moment as the burning sensation of the radioactive ether continues to flow through his veins, contaminating much of his flesh and echoing the subtle destruction from within.

Allowing the light to slowly return through his eyes, the gentevaese magus took quick notice of Arkash clenching down his chipped nails into the various sections of leather on his garments and based on the imprints plus his experience of being man-handled by the dark-skinned Dranoch, it was safe to assume that being in close quarters was his area of expertise based on his keen eye for gathering detail.

“What??? You are not used to enjoying a good meal… Geez, it makes me wonder why I was always cooking and companions just barging in when they catch wind…”

The thief couldn’t help but let out a light yet dry chuckle as he recalled a moment when he was simply cooking a large meal for himself in the middle of the night only to have his buddies that he worked with during his time as a thief back at the home of Alistian; simply barge in and start rattling the table for food.

“Well, it depends on the context, I guess… Sometimes, letting something go only makes it more exciting, no? Besides, if you eat all of the good stuff now, there won’t be any to enjoy… In your case, it is a bit morbid, but you do what you can to not starve… It is a sickening feeling, and I tell ya…”

It does take a while for the thief to adjust his mindset to what was currently going on, the initial shock made it hard for Jared to process anything, but being back in his element and having a little bit of time to go through his thoughts, there was nothing different here. People have different needs, which is all the thief needs to know.

“That is fair; I am surprised you managed to pull back, I still got a decent chunk, but I get it; You eat what you can when you can. Not much the same for most; people find it so offputting to butcher a live animal yet revel in consuming the flesh, Not to mention that the majority of people don’t even know how to cook correctly… Ehhhh…”

Seeing Arkash clasp his hands together before bringing them over to his sides, the thief merely raised a brow as he stopped cooking another mid-way through, taking the pot off the hearth to allow it cool, the scent of sweetened braised meat slowly creeping up in the air.

“Nah, no need to be sorry. I get that something happened to you, I assume; just talking about the umbralplasm has already got me thinking that you need something from me, right? I might be a coward, but at least I got an eye for a few things. But you are right, and I am what is called a Nightfallen; something the matter with that?”

Taking a moment to conjure up a sphere of umbralplasm, the compass would simply float around the thief as it orbits slowly, but something was notably different about it; the consistency of Jared’s umbralplasm was more wispy and ethereal. Almost as if the Umbralplasm was mimicking the concept of fog almost.

[Arkash]

Arkash couldn't help but smile a little at the thief's observation. "...It's an occupational hazard," he offered as a simple explanation. "I've been hungry since... Well, for about two years now. I don't think there's enough food in the entire monastery to satisfy me, even if I ate all the people here too." Arkash's words rang true; no matter how many meals the chef prepared for him, the Rath wouldn't seem to gain any weight and his stomach remained flat. "I do think about that sometimes... What it would be like to let loose and just... Gorge..."

Glassy eyes stared off in thought while he apparently considered the prospect, but he soon shook his head and looked down at the island's countertop in search of some distraction.

"There will always be more prey..." Arkash corrected the thief as he went on to say he couldn't eat everything. "But... People would notice if I went around like that, and it'd be over for me soon after. Picking off one or two at a time is how you stay alive."

Arkash raised a brow, then laughed out loud when the cook spoke his observation of butchering and poor culinary skills. "Well, you're right... There's been times when I've slipped up in public, and the reactions I get are... Very telling. And the things I find in people's stomachs? Horrifying I swear." He shook his head in disapproval, despite his agreement with the notion.

His stomach growled audibly as he looked over the simmering pot, nostrils flared as though to take in more of the smell. Sure enough, Arkash looked about ready to drink the mixture straight from the boiling pan. Even so, he waited.

Then came the delivery of the topic he most wished to know. His eyes narrowed a little as the thief claimed to know something had happened. "You're sure observant," he commented, and let the thief continue. "No," he answered. "Nothing's the matter with it... But I could use a favor." His eyes traced the misty orb as it floated a cycle around the Alistian thief.

Arkash leaned into the bar when he managed to pull his hand from his desperate guts, clasped his hands together, and hung on his shoulders while he maintained focus on the Nightfallen. "I was once initiated in Nightfall," he began after a moment of consideration. Arkash had to gather the strength to delve into the subject. "...I failed," he swallowed. "The stuff clogged my arteries, veins, capillaries... But I survived, and since then I haven't been able to use my other mark of control."

Arkash exhaled deeply through his nose and looked the cook up and down. "...I've been told a powerful Nightfallen could undo it. I don't know how strong you are, but... Could you try?"

"I'll pay you," he added quickly. "I've saved up plenty in my work; lots of people need Briomancy, so... If you need a price, name it."

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[Gloomcrest]

47th of Frost, 4622

The Nightfallen thief couldn’t help but raise a brow for a moment as Arkash went to correct some of his assumptions about needing feed on people; For the average person, most would be horrified by hearing what kind of conversation was taking place in a kitchen of all things but despite it all. The curiosity lure pulled the thief closer, like a moth to a flame.

“That is fair; it kind of reminds me of stealing in a way, haha; Lots of thieves and larcenists like to strike big, but that isn’t good if you want to keep your profile low. You don’t need to work as much if you manage well, but there are always strings attached to everything taken.”

Jared simply placed his back on the wall, leaning with his arms across his stomach; his toned muscles simply relaxed as if he was having a simple conversation with someone he knew, while at the same time, the misty sphere of darkness began to change shape and form. At first, it was simply a cube that was slowly rotating in the air before it flattened itself with its spinning becoming more intense; one could make a basic assumption that coming into contact with this blackened square could lead to a violent end.

“I guess you could say that… I mainly practised a lot on the basics, but I have been told otherwise that my mastery was on par with someone who had many years of practice and dedication to a skill. Though I still have much to learn, raw talent alone isn’t enough but practice and thinking outside the box do.

It isn’t normal for a Nightfallen to suddenly turn invisible or pass through people or walls, but as you can tell, my Umbralplasm isn’t quite average per se… It has a gaseous property, and while I can still use it like normal, it eventually starts to fade if I am not concentrating on it.”

As the flattened square slowed its rotation speed, Jared would simply snap his fingers as a wave of gaseous darkness would spread out into the room from the wispy Compass; using Gloom, the nightfall rogue temporarily made everything within the space become as pitch as the void itself. This wasn’t the usual darkness produced by the diffusion of light and the cover of objects. Instead, it was like someone was born blinded and never seen the light of day. Even if it was for a short moment, any open flames & light sources couldn’t have enough light for it to stay visible itself.

Taking a deep breath and letting his mind expand, the briefest moment of darkness returns to the typical kitchen within the Priory.

“Not too sure if I can extract the Umbralplasm out of you… Manipulating is one thing, but trying to take it out around your soul might be much for me in my current condition….”

Merely raising his arms and shrugging, The thief was not hiding the fact that he looked rather terrible; only the moonlight and shadows assisted in the obscuration of Jared’s deteriorating body. In the kitchen, with sufficient lighting present and not attempting to hide, it is evident to anyone who practices Raw Magic that Jared is in a terrible state as he briefly lifts up his linen tunic to reveal large patches of his usually pale skin are dark purple to almost black before pulling his shirt back down.

“I would like to help, but I can tell my soul isn’t up for it, and not for a long time, to be honest… It is barely able to keep me functioning. I have discovered that my newfound abilities came at a terrible cost; Something about making the soul thinner and having a hard time filtering out the waste, but… This season and the season prior were pretty rough for me… I am surprised I managed to get here without dying on the path….”

Letting out loud, hacking coughs; the thief takes a moment to turn away, pulling a cloth from one of his many hidden pockets; briefly spewing out a thickened clot of blood with lumps of blackness.

“As much as I like the idea of money, I will have to decline for now… Who knows what will happen if I try, and I don’t even know what I can do, to be frank… It sounds like I am bullshitting, but I am telling it as it is from my point of view.”

[Arkash]

"You know a decent bit about stealing, huh?" The disguised Rath raised a brow. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were on the prowl when I caught you; looking for something shiny to pilfer." He observed with a curl to the corner of his mouth. "Or were you really just meandering about with some poetry?"

A more attentive gaze came upon the blackened sphere as it flattened and spun. Whatever wild beast that previously claimed his gaze had receded to some degree, but the Rath was still on edge, sitting at the end of his seat with a certain tension to his jaw that yearned to clasp as hard as it could. Often, his eyes rolled over the pot of food prepared before he'd attentively snap his attention back to the cook.

A soft nod came with his attentive stare as he appeared to listen to the Nightfallen, then hummed in understanding; an acknowledgment that he was very skilled in the mark.

"You're the third I've met," Arkash said. "You could've said every Nightfallen could do that and I would have believed you... So you're mutated?" Arkash knew he was, the obvious answer was a nod of the head.

The Dranoch's fingers clasped a little tighter as the gaseous umbralplasm diffused and claimed the room. The chill of its touch was familiar to him, but the darkness he expected did not come. In that blinding darkness, the Cardinal's eyes shined a malicious red, smoldering with bloodlust. It was like the shine of an animal's night vision, clung to the fringes of a campfire's light. Perhaps unknown to the chef, Arkash was able to see clearly.

"Very impressive," he nodded a little as the spell came undone. "You really are strong, but I could tell that by your smell alone. Are you..." he began to reiterate his request when the mage declared that he could not, not in his current state.

"Mageblight..." He acknowledged again. "...Well fuck."

Arkash exhaled through his nose and clasped his head as it hung from his shoulders over the countertop. He stared in thought at the woodwork while his fingers dug into his curly hair.

"Yeah," he began. "I wouldn't ask you to risk making yourself worse. So how about this?" From his hip, Arkash drew a jagged black scimitar. Though it hummed with inherent threat and sharpness as the blade became exposed to the air, it clattered like wood when it came upon the table. Evidently, it was far lighter than any steel. The metalwork was completely alien, as though molten metal had suddenly frozen with a perfect, serrated edge in the shape of a sword.

"I'll protect you through this..." he looked about the room to reference the Eternity Priory, glassy gaze trailing over most surfaces. "...whatever this is. I'll act as your blade while your soul recovers, and in return, you'll try and unclog my soul when you're well enough?" He gave a few moments pause before he took the handle of his alien black sword. "If you're successful, I'll even give you my sword... And there is no other like it in the world."

To demonstrate, Arkash lifted the handle a little, and the edge of the blade bit into the woodwork with its meager weight alone. With just a little force, it was apparent that he could cut through the hardwood of the countertop, though he stayed his hand.

"So..." he stood, still clutching his sword with the point lightly resting on the countertop. "The blade of a tried and tested assassin in service to you, and yours to keep, for a little umbralplasm removal." he extended his hand across the table, light palm open to receive a handshake. "Do we have a deal?"

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[Gloomcrest]

47th of Frost, 4622

“You could say that; When life throws you onto the cold, cobbled streets, you learn how to live by any means necessary… Just a fact of life being raised as a street urchin.”

The thief couldn’t help but chuckle; his amber-eyed gaze noticed Arkash raise a brow before mentioning how he was simply prowling about for some sort of item.

“I would like to take a few trinkets here and there, something that wouldn’t be missed; after all, no one will notice a few missing goblets or ewers. They can be replaced as easily as a non-magical enslaved person, but back home, if you possessed any magical talent, you are essentially on top of the world.”

But the brief mention of practising some poetry… The thief couldn’t help but seem annoyed, muttering to himself for a moment, briefly tightening his grip around his shoulders as he held his crossed arms for self-assurance.

“Fuck… Thought I was alone…”

Briefly distracted for a moment, his internal monologuing would soon be cut short as the Lorien huntsman mentioned being the third nightfallen to have ever met, raising a curious brow.

“I assume they were not skilled enough to pull the Umbralplasm out, or have you met other highly-skilled nightfallen as well? Either way, you are correct to assume that I have mutated… Not a pleasant experience either, but that doesn’t change the fact that attempting to extract the Umbralplasm with my skills alone could fail or worse….”

Despite being highly skilled in his chosen mark, it was apparent that Jared had doubts about the possibility of removing such an integral part of the Initiation and believed that his skills were sufficient even to pull off a feat like that.

Nevertheless, the brief moment of intense darkness would soon show something more sinister than the Alistian thief could have expected. A pair of leering, a crimson red gaze which pierces the dark as if it were nothing; The thief couldn’t tell if Arkash was able to see through the darkness itself. Gloom was more effective on those that rely on light to see. Darkvision would assist but not to the extent of seeing in the pitchest of black.

“Strong, I wouldn’t say that; Just someone who practices.”

It was then that Jared noted that Arkash seemed slightly distressed at witnessing his frail condition; Whether disappointed or just annoyed, that was harder to describe since reading people’s surface emotions was not the thief’s best set of skills so far.

Raising his brow once more as Arkash begins to articulate the possible outcomes that could come of this current situation; The suggestion of being his blade while his body was recovering does sound nice and the addition of a blade into his collection was intriguing but Jared couldn’t help but chuckle for a moment.

“If you are that desperate for a Nightfallen to try and extract the Umbralplasm from your soul… It wouldn’t be bad, and a simple trinket will suffice; I don’t care too much for exotic blades; just mementos will be enough payment. Just letting you know, though, the chance of it even working is unknown, so don’t blame us for trying, but we have a deal.”

Letting out a brief sigh, the amber-eyed thief turns his back for a moment to check on the meal he was concocting for Arkash as a sufficient amount of time has pasted to check if the meal was ready or not.

[Arkash]

Black sword in hand, Arkash's eyes narrowed to squint with a somewhat uncomfortable smile to frame his look when the offer his handshake wasn't noticed, and reluctantly withdrew his fingers and stowed his hand at his side. "So be it," he said in return, cleared his throat, then brushed off the leather cuirass that blurred the shape of his form.

"It'll work," Arkash assured, and yawned into his free hand as he ripped the black sword from the table, and sheathed it at his hip once more in a single and swift motion. It was as though Arkash had put that blade away in a similar fashion a thousand times before. "I've tasted very few mages as strong as you; if I need an ascendant Nightfallen, I'll just give up." He smiled a little after the declaration, though it didn't reflect in his eyes.

"As far as trinkets go, I could make you just about... Oh, wait!" his eyes widened in realization. From his pocket, Arkash fished a small tool, looked at it with a discerning eye; a glower, then placed it flat on the countertop. With a deep exhale, he slid the trinket over the island and let go of it once it was within reach of the thief.

There, made of the same black material, was a lockpick of wicked design. "This thing has helped me into plenty of coffers and safes; I hope it'll bring just as much fortune." He pocketed his hand once more and nodded to the melty-looking tool to give the thief permission to take it.

After the delivery of his gift, his eye drifted to the pot of food that had been prepared in unison with the chef's wandering eye. "Is it done?" he asked with a raise of his brow. "I'm starving, really," he grinned quite cleverly.

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[Gloomcrest]

47t of Frost, 4622

While the black-gleaming sword was rather beautiful, it could have been a precious item or even a trinket. Even so, an actual curiosity, one that he could carry on as a reminder, was always preferred, a habit that has always stemmed from the tiny street urchin that remains inside his core being.

It was only then that the amber-eyed thief realised that the Lorien huntsman was offering a hand to conduct a shake on the deal; Jared couldn’t help but pinch the bridge of his nose & his right arm, blaming his inept social awareness or his general aloof nature when it came to these sort of deals, just this memory along is going to sting for the thief as evident at how hard he was pinching right arm.

Jared’s amber gaze couldn’t help but gleam for a moment as Arkash effortlessly removed the blackened blade from the table, using precise movements to simply sheath his sword back into its holster attached to his hips. As long as the thief could remember, he always wanted to practice with some weapons, particularly blades. Unfortunately, while the thief had some practice in the art, the lack of a tutor or receiving feedback stifles his attempts at potential growth.

Despite that, the thief had a habit of using non-lethal approaches whenever possible, as seen as a leather-woven blackjack was hidden on the side of his hip, coating in a thin layer of umbralplasm to make it harder to detect, and the additional mass from the liquified shadow would assist in various swings or bludgeoning motions.

Still, slightly in awe, the thief takes a moment to look at Arkash rather intensely, trying to figure out how one utilises a sword based on his physique alone; Does height and weight influence how one can swing and parry or was it merely thousands of hours of practice? It was only then that Jared’s pondering thoughts were broken as Arkash’s voice pipes up about mentioning that if the requirement were someone to be ascended, he would simply give up.

“Ascended? I am a bit confused by that… I thought that mastery over raw magic was capped.”

While the Alistian magus wasn’t dumb by any means, the mentions of an Ascended was all new information that immediately caught the thief’s attention; leaning forward as if he was trying to gather more information about this so-called ‘Ascended’

Seeing Arkash slide over the same blackened material over the island table. The thief takes a moment to pick it up and examine it. It was a stunning piece in Jared’s eyes. Most of his lockpicks were made of simple iron, and when he didn’t have his tools on hand or break during a covert operation, his Umbralplasm would make short work of various locks.

“Fuck me… This is a stunning beauty right here… Alright, give me a second; I have made extras since you ate almost as many as a small group of people… Just on your mind you… But I have a few questions that I would like you to answer once you have finished eating…. Like what is this material, what is an Ascended, and did you train with a tutor or by yourself when it comes to using a sword?”

[Arkash]

The briefest smile crossed his features as he stowed his blade. Though the cause for his smile might never come to pass his lips, it was clear something had caught his eye; something he enjoyed.

Jared went on to describe some sort of limit to the mastery of magic, and Arkash rose a single brow. "Ascension..." he spoke again, a little quieter, then rose both brows and widened his eyes. "Oh! You don't know about Ascension?" He quizzed with a slight tilt to his head. Though curious and inquisitive, his eyes retained the look of shock that claimed his gaze with Jared's question.

"Hmm..." he hummed to himself in thought, then delivered the gift of good faith to the thief.

"Isn't it?" he asked as Jared shared his praise. "You'll never break it; it'll never bend no matter how many tumblers you botch. Should come in handy... Unless you alreaady bust open your locks with Umbralplasm."

Arkash sat once more, fingers splayed like claws on the table while he clutched his empty stomach with his right. His jaw pressed tight while he eyed the pot of food, and the hunger of his gaze soon fell upon Jared while he once again danced with the ever-present bloodlust in his bones. "More questions..." he hummed in thought, and curled his nose at one of the queries the thief had lined up.

"You haven't mingled with the Entante much, have you, Daravain?" He addressed the thief. Given the raggedy quality of his attire, it was safe to assume so - with another more prominent tell. Arkash shook his head. "You've heard of the Candor, right?"

He gave a moment's pause to let the depth of the question sink in. "One of the most prominent rules of the candor is to not give away information for free; you'll have to keep the food coming if you want to loosen my lips," He grinned toothily. "So long as you do that, I'll tell you everything you want to know... Maybe even some things you don't want to know..." ...If you're unlucky.

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