Stoking the Fire [Cyrus]

[Nuraku]

Ash 53rd, 120

Sil'norai gathered at some ill-begotten pub to reminisce on what they'd left behind. Refugees, the lot of them, and Alphonse knew their plight well. It didn't matter how many Dranoch she slew, since she knew they'd never fully come around to trust her. They just weren't like that. Hope wasn't really in their vocabulary, and yeah, they appreciated having their trash taken out, but the vast majority were jaded save for those loyal few who clung to the Remedy as if the Revolution was already at their doorstep--and it was: Alphonse was proof of that.

Pulling up a seat in the private back room she was alloted to keep her out of trouble, Alphonse ordered her meal for the day--food was expensive here in the slums, especially good food, but she needed the meat to keep going. The job paid just enough to keep her going, but little more. Hunched over a plate, she ate her disappointing dried haunch of salted cow in silence, chewing slowly.

Turning the corner, a wry young man with a red bow tie, pointy ears, and ashen skin started a walk towards her just as she'd started gnawing on the bones left over. She was in the middle of carving the marrow out from the bone with her teeth when he stood before her. "Alphonse, another gentleman bares the Sigil--he says he's a part of your Black Remedy," he murmured, trying to be discreet. "I've got him out front."

Gulp. Hck. "Chff, send h'm in," said Alphonse with a swallow. She tilted back and pulled her scabbard from where it was leaning at the table, thumbing up the crossguard 'til the blade began to show its Enkindled colors, its warm glow casting a light over the dreary, weakly lit room.

Who the f'ck's 'ere to see me?
Probably some pansy courier.
Gonna send me 'cross the damn continent again.
I swear to Malek...

"Hck." She pushed away the plate to make room, tilting her head with a singular menacing eye staring up at the doorway. She was a hulk of a woman behind the glow of her partly drawn flamberge, and she was clad in blackened chain maille over a thick, cushy gambeson, a cloak to hide much of the raiment. She had two chairs to sit on, not one, which the establishment had procured from the refuse piles outside and strung together with twine just for her. A tail dangled behind the chair, visible beneath the legs, lashing with a curious agitation.

[Haldir]

☠ Ash 53rd, Year 120, Earth's Rest ☠
Company: Group of Sil'norai/Giant Rathari| Thoughts: | Mood: Annoyed/Curious

---

☠ I still could not figure out how they knew of my mark, of the sigil, but somehow someway I was approached by several sil'norai who wished for me to come with them. At first, I was hesitant, not sure what I could be walking into, and Stephan was not with me, I was on my own. He couldnt hold my hand for everyone and everything that came with this gift. I had to see what these people wanted.

They spoke of another person supposedly of the Remedy, which needless to say I was curious about. As far as I knew, it was just me and Stephan as part of the cell of the order, but to think there was another among us we had no idea about, more so that slipped past Stephan was both alarming and curious to me. If anything I would address this person, this Alphonse person, for myself in order to determine the character and possible recruitment into our cell.

Dressed in my most casual attire I made my way to the rendezvous spot when I was told to meet a contact that would take me to where this Alphonse was. Once there we exchanged a few words then he led me to the location in question. I couldnt help but mentally mark the way just in case I had to escape the place if things got ugly, taking in the landmarks of the path we took, notating the smells as we walk.

My senses were sharp enough to pick up the little things along the path. Once there I could hear the mumblings of sil'norai as I was brought to a pub that had seen better days. Looking around the place with a confused look filling my face, I felt myself become tense a bit. "Interesting, I wasnt expecting to meet another member of the order in a place like this." I whispered, combing my hand through my golden mane a bit

There was an air of curiosity as many eyes fell upon me. "So where is this Alphonse person everyone is so anxious for me to meet?" I inquired, glaring at the two sil'norai as my voice held annoyance and impatience in it. I was rather pressed to have this meet and greet over with, and more so anxious to report back to Stephan about this, knowing he would want to know about this for sure.

As I was waiting I could see one particular man go into the back and a roar of voices came from the room. It was clear to me that whoever this Alphonse person was in there. They soon returned and motioned for me to follow him back towards the room. With a deep breath and a sigh, a hand on Vaccine that had a single shot ready just in case, I entered the room.

To my surprise, it was not a person, at least not a human person. They were a Rathari, just like Arkash but of a different species. They looked to be of some canine breed, and I couldnt ascertain the gender of this Alphonse. I did however notice their sword was slightly drawn, indicated by the faint glow of enkindling. My gaze narrowed as I eyed the beast before me. "Is this how you greet another member of the Remedy? If that's supposed to intimidate, then you will have to do better. It is not the first time I've had a weapon drawn on me."

I spoke calmly, flashing the steel of Vaccine from under the coat of my attire. It was not the best first impression, on either of our parts, but it was an immpression nonetheless. ☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Nuraku]

What came through that door earned a raised eyebrow from the Rathari. Leaning back in her chair, she rolled her other wrist and flexed her claws, holding the blade steady in her other. Eyes of amber gave him a hard look up and down, eyes spying that little piece of tech by his hands which looked to her to be a little nervous and quick on the trigger. Now that--the gun--it was a rare sight in Lower Nivenhain.

Her neck rolled after he spoke, her expression unchanging. When the awkwardness settled in, she milked it for a spell, tilting her nose up at him. With a puff of her nares, she finally spoke. "So 'er you a courier or what?" she asked. Maybe she'd eat her words if this man turned out to be something more, but from what she could tell, he seemed a bit green and pretty for an Ebon Knight.

"You never ate dirt in the Darklands with the rest of us."
"You don't seem the type."
"So what the feck are 'ye, then, just another Cleric?"

Sitting up a bit straighter, she let her blade fall back into the sheath, setting an arm down on the table and hunkering over it. "Come on then," she told him.
"Pull up a chair." She waved her paw over the table, bringing attention to the wooden chair sitting just a few feet away.
"I know ya got questions, but so do I."
"What's your name and rank?"

Her jaw tersed, stating hers. "Cleric Alphonse Eriksen," she said coldly. All that hot air for someone who was about as green as he was, as far as the order was concerned. Hah.
"So, you even hunt a Dranoch before?"
"You're here to help smoke 'em out, right?"

[Haldir]

☠ Ash 53rd, Year 120, Earth's Rest ☠
Company: Group of Sil'norai/Giant Rathari| Thoughts: | Mood: Annoyed/Curious

---

☠ I wasn't sure if I was to feel disrespected or confused. This Alphonse person, as they later on introduced, seemed to think of me as a courier, which I was not and roused so many questions in me. They, as I was still trying to figure out the gender, spoke of not being in the trenches, fighting in the Darklands with the rest of them.

I seemed to give the impression that I was primarily to pristine and proper to be out in the field of combat. I guess I give that impression, but still. They seemed to be thinking I was a cleric which was correct. They offered me a seat, to which I nodded and took, setting my sword against the table.

"Indeed, I do have some questions. And my name is Cyrus Von Faust. I am of cleric rank, but my commander is a master of sigilic pyromancy." I explained, sizing this Alphonse up mentally. This added to my questions that I had for them.

They asked if I had killed a dranoch before, to which I nodded. "I have indeed killed one before. It was not an easy fight, and that was before I became an Ebon Knight." I said that in hopes it would satisfy anything that may still have been in question for them. The feat of killing one without Sigilic Pyromancy was surely to attest to my capabilities.

"I am here because your entourage compelled me to come and meet you. As to smoking out the Dranoch, I am more than willing to smoke out and killing these vermin. I've learned that they are a disease that can not be allowed to fester."

I was hoping that this would allow the awkwardness of our interaction to fade and become more amicable for us both. ☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Nuraku]

Cyrus earned something of a glimmer in Alphonse's eye when he brought up his Lineage as an Ebon Knight, the woman focusing intently on that sword for a spell before his words brought her attention more fully to bare. "See-Roos Vun Fowst," she repeated, dancing a finger over the letters as she visualized them in her imagination. These foreign dialects were often hard to understand.

Pulling herself up, the large lady careened forward, huddling over the small table with a sharp, unhealthy lean. Her elbow touched the dirty wood, arm stretching over to tap a savage, enormous claw against the wood idly as she listened and mulled over what he said in her mind. It seemed believable enough to her. "Rrrr-wrell," she began, a growl sharply punctuating the word. "Seroos, ay've been out 'ere on me own 'fer Malek knows 'ow long." Her gaze drifted side to side, those golden, slitted feline orbs telling of her savage nature as they sought to distract themselves with a roach she caught scurrying out of the corner of her eye. "Hm," she huffed. With Cyrus this close and personal, the wider, less angular muzzle betrayed a more feline association to her appearance, although the two sets of horns sprouting from her head spoke of no known local feline.

Sitting up nice and straight, she stretched out her back and puffed out her chest, crossing her arms at him nice and tight. She let the silence fester just a little bit longer to draw out some words from him, but the Rathari lady had a good feeling so far, and she trusted her feelings about people. Lifting her chin, she chuffed. "There's not much of a group 'ere. Wha-di-dey call it? A 'cell'? Odder than tha courier who strays in ter relay orders from on high, is just me 'ere."
"Wouldn' be opposed 'ter workin' together, though I been workin' alone fer awhile." Her deep and rasping voice fell to a silent trill as she brought up a claw to tap and itch at her cheek in thought beneath one of the gruesome-looking horns.

Arms slacking, she blinked and extended a beastly paw across the table, extending it as a gesture of good faith for him to shake. "Is a pleasure to meet'cha, Seroos. Aye look forwa'hd to workin' with yee." She pursed her lips to smile, a grin of genuine satisfaction--only, to anyone else with her crinkled nose and gruesome teeth, it looked like she was baring her fangs like some predatory animal.

Pulling her paw away, she rolled her head to the side. Her dialect shifted to something more concise, a crude imitation of the local tongue as she focused on making her words more concise. "Suppose you're the first I've met outside since my recruiter," she told him. "Part of what I do here, Seroos, is I'm givin' the Remedy a good name. I work to earn trust of these ash elves so that one day maybe they'll be boots on the ground for the revolution. Now, I don't know if ya ever been to Sil-Elaine, an' I'm sure it don't matter, but those Dranoch have a hold on the country. They keep whole cities locked up like cattle, an' it's a fucked concept. The Sil'norai here, they--they're people who've fled that life who're trying to survive, an' there's a lot o' em."
"So, ya gotta know, ya gotta get in good with dem, and that's part-a me mission 'ere. Recruit Dranoch, and keep 'em safe from thar Dranoch who've been sent to infiltrate and spy. They come from tha border with Sil-Elaine, an' is not far. Not far at all." Alphonse walked her fingers across the air in crude imitation with one hand.

SLAP

One hand crashed into the other, fists clomping together with claws in a vice. "They feckers, all uh dem, they lie and pretend to be like you 'n me to fit in, so you can't trust a flea's ass around 'ere. Most've 'dem look like elves though, since they from the same country. Sometimes ya can't tell the difference, like with 'dem Botchlings. An' they good at it, they blend in really well. I haven' found 'em all, an' I don't know how many."

Puffing out a cheek, she tried to guesstimate just how many there were in her mind. "Dunno. A hundred? A thousand? And they numbers keep replenishin' so I swear the feckers are breedin' here in the slums uh Lower Nivenhain. So I think they got a queen like a bunch'a ants. Find tha queen, kill tha bugs. You think thas' pretty good reasoning, Seroos?"
"If ya wanna work together on rooting out these bastards, tha' is."
"Aye'll warn ya. I don' take a lotta breaks. I work hard, and together we're gonna work hard. The work requires being available as often as ya can, or the trail will run cold minutes before ya get there. Workin' fer the Remedy doesn't pay squat except in kickbacks from the families ya help, and they usually poor enough that they can't pay in money but rather goods. A lotta it really do be like charity."

Alphonse rose from the table, having to duck beneath the low ceiling while she held on to a beam crossing it for support. Her other paw snaked down to snatch up that scabbard, rolling up the strap over her shoulders. "So with all that in yer noggin, ready to go show me how ya handle yerself in a figh' down the block in one of them abandoned courtyarr's?"

[Haldir]

☠ Ash 53rd, Year 120, Earth's Rest ☠
Company: Group of Sil'norai/Giant Rathari| Thoughts: | Mood: Annoyed/Curious

---

☠ I quirked my brow as I listened to the rathari pronounce my name, reminding me of Arkash and his dialect. It was cute, even for this large rathari seeing her struggle just a bit. They were glad to meet another member of the order, and as Stephan so plainly stated, we were far and few here in Lorien.

It seemed Stephan & I weren't the only ones now, and this Alphonse seemed rough around the edges, but cooperative to say the least. I was a bit more comfortable now, taking my trigger finger off of my pistol. It seemed we finally were off on the right foot, as Alphonse was glad to have met me.

They went on to explain their purpose for being in Lorien, mostly to spread the word about the order among the Silver Elves in the city. It was to inspire them to give them hope it seemed. That was good, especially for the Sil'vorai in a place that was so hateful towards foreigners.

The one thing I could say though, for all their abrasive demeanor, Alphonse was surely passionate about how much they hated the Dranoch, and how much damage they could cause. I did however find it interesting that they spoke of how the dranoch could easily blend in with society. That truth was both alarming and reassuring, as once I realized what to look for I could easily spot them and take them out with no problem.

It was a lot to absorb information-wise, even in the way they had come to explain it, but for the most part, I understood what they were trying to convey to me. The dranoch were a scourge and detriment to any way of life and had to be dealt with quickly. The more I thought about it the more I was inclined to like this person.

When they mentioned the amount of work they were going to be putting in I was somewhat surprised as they didn't strike me as the type to do so, more so get drunk and cause fights whenever possible. But it was good to know this one wasn't a slacker, and I appreciated that.

"I will try to be as available as I possibly can when it comes time to work together." I proposed, nodding towards them. Their next request caused my brow to rise. A sparring match huh? They wanted to test my capabilities it seemed. "Very well, I will not turn down an invitation to test one's skill." I said taking hold of Nevermore and standing.

If they were so inclined to lead the way I would follow them to this courtyard for a little sparring. ☠

---

"Common Tongue"
"Silvain Tongue"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Nuraku]

Alphonse rolled her neck, muscles popping in audible little creaks as she leaned forward in a hunch, traipsing out of the room like a lumbering beast. “C’mon,” she grunted. The elves didn’t pay the pair much heed save for the bartender who seemed to snoop on the both of them, his gaze following as they left to the street.

Here out in the open, the pair drew looks. They were unusual. Alphonse didn’t seem to care as she rolled her shoulders back and stood tall in the dreary air, huffing a visible cloud of breath into the cool chilly morning. “It don’t matter, but how long ya had the Sigil ‘fer?” asked Alphonse as she began a casual walk down the street as throngs of morning laborers meandered towards their livelihoods.

The pair crossed beneath an arch and turned the corner to a road that looked rougher than the others. Homeless huddled around a fire in an old barrel, looking wasting thin. One’s step had to be weary here--piles of rubble were scattered about from the decaying buildings. “So ya see, they elves, right? Lorien ain’t been kind to ‘em. Technically part o’ my job too is ‘ta help ‘em get higher standing with the gov ‘ere. Hadn’t had time ‘fer that though, but maybe you’d be better suited for politicking, given I am what I am.”

Alphonse sighed. “They could make it. They could. Even wid’ no help. But the Dranoch. They snatch the educated, like... just ‘fer a few weeks ago, they had...” Her voice dimmed with a hollow tone as she hung her head low, shaking it back and forth. “Guy with connections to run a business. Dranoch snatched him on his way home. How can a people live if they have nobody to lay down them roots? I fear ‘fer the innkeeper who’s been sheltering me.”

The pair arrived at a dead-end, several loose piles of rubble scattered about. Alphonse raised a fist above her head, breathing in the scents about the area. Her mouth opened, and she circled the courtyard looking up into the blackened windows to the void. “Gotta check for an ambush. Not well liked by those monsters,” she told Cyrus.

Streaks of scorch marks littered the area, along with kicked over, shattered piles of rocks. Alphonse set about stacking a pile, squatting low until she had an adequate target. Stepping away seven paces, she motioned for Cyrus to stand back, and reached back to draw her huge blade from its scabbard.

The weapon, she didn’t bother holding it on high. It was longer than Cyrus was tall, and the tip fell to the earth as she held it aloft. “I don’t got the finesse to spar without hurtin’ ye’. I’m no expert swordsman. Just a brute with a lotta firepower. So let’s show each other what we can do, yeah?”

Heaving her sword back with a grunt, she brought it above her head to begin a Trail. She could feel the warmth of her Beacon more acutely, mentally drawing upon that connection as she swung her blade down in a hard, vertical slash to the earth. In that same stroke, she squatted low with her blade, slamming the ground with the blade, which had begun to spark with cinders well before her strike. Like a match lighting, Shrivenflame leapt from cracks in the ground and zig-zagged towards the target. This Trail carried on for around thirty feet before climbing the pile of rubble and cresting it like a candle wick, burning the stone and dirt like a pyre while the flames licked three feet into the air.

Drawing her sword back, she left the tip planted in the ground, the flames slowly fading as she leaned upon her scabbard for comfort. “That’s about what I can do,” she told him. “What about ‘ye?” Moments later, the Shrivenflame dimmed to nothing with no Aether to fuel it, only smoldering embers now upon the scorched stone.