The Curse of the Entente [Arkash]

[Caladrin]

2nd Frost, 4621

The night had risen and the young Entente made it to Arlain, the place in which the feud between Uriel Valent and Brilan Ald brewed with the political animosity between the each other. The sand and dirt didn't make Caladrin look any better as he looked like a common slave boy and yet there was no better place for him to settle down. Amongst his shoulder was the slave boy, for which he carried freely. He had the strength to do so; it didnt exactly take much for him to life someone who was lesser height than him. However, there was a bigger burden.

The guilt.

The guilt of being the victim in that situation; he was Entente, he was suppose to be the greatest most powerful mage at all; but he wasnt, not yet as it seemed. What made Caladrin question, was his own abilities; was he cut out to be a great mage like his family or was he forever going to be weak in terms of his magic. He tried every inn, but Halamire would bar him from entering the places, since they were only available for the elite class. The Entente. He was Entente, but he couldnt admit that out in public, for the way he was dressed now placed him in a different class all together. He was trouble, not just to himself but also to his family.

The risk of being flogged was high if he admitted openly, so he chose to keep his mouth shut. He sighed for a moment as he wished for a luxury bed, comfort and a nice warm meal, but he wasn't going to get that at this rate; it was pain, degradation and torment for him. Yet, he had always lived with a silver spoon in his mouth. It was about time Caladrin had some proper experience in life. He sighed as he entered the dirty dark slums; he looked around cautiously.

However, he found a seemingly safe spot away from the criminals. A small outhouse, where he locked the door. It appeared to be run down and derelict, but it was the only location he had. He settled Arkash down for a moment "Fuck, hold still... It's gonna be alright... You might be, suffering from... Oh god..." The worry in the Entente's face could explain he'd never seen anything like it before "Stay there, don't move." He said as he walked outside the outhouse. He looked around and noticed tree a small tree from which he plucked a bunch of twigs from. He sighed as he remembered one of his lessons his stepfather taught him when he was 13 "Right, here goes nothing"

He ran back into the outhouse and locked the door, he used his finger to peel the fibers from the twigs as he looked at Arkash for a moment "Don't be alarmed, this won't hurt." At that moment, he channeled a green ball of energy into the plant fibers he peeled "This will hurt a bit..." He said with such seriousness as he appeared to be in full concentration. He needed to close the wounds as fast as possible, so he used the plant fibers to suture the wounds on his chest area first. However, there would be even more difficulty. His lung was punctured

"Damnit! WHY ARE YOU SO..." He paused for a moment; he didn't mean to lash out, although it was clear that he appeared to be genuine worried for the man. He showed him a little sympathy; maybe it was because the slave boy had saved his life "Just hang in there, whatever your name is..." He said as he laid back against the wall next to him "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out at you..." There were thoughts rolling through his mind as a tear shed slightly. He was coming to reality of what he was.

Inferior.

He looked back at Arkash for a moment as he removed his jacket and put it over him, snugly before shaking his head "Y'know, this is all my fault. Shouldn't ran into that brute like a maniac... What was I even thinking, pretending to be the fucking hero; the question is, why? Why did you save me, I thought you slave folk hated us..." He said with a sigh as he paused for a moment "I can see why you hate us." He said with a sigh "Candor, Candor, Candor... Bloody Candor... To what good does it do... Division, lack of freedom; not to mention it influences the way you dress, the way you present yourself." He sighed as the stress got to him "If I was caught now, god damn I'd be publicly humiliated and shamed..." He rolled his eyes again.

"Please, don't fuck this up for me; it'll ruin me" The pleading look that Caladrin had sought upon Arkash for a moment. It was the look of desperation "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

[Arkash]

"Stinks a' shit in 'ere, maet," Arkash stated the obvious when they were made to hide in an outhouse. No one had seen them, he thought... he hoped. It was hard to tell, with so little energy to spare on his surroundings and so much pain in his torn lung, he couldn't do much more than try to hold himself together while the flesh of cats and dogs sustained him.
They were in dire straights; Arkash had been shot four times during a scuffle in the badlands, one such shot went through his lower chest, and effectively crippled him with lasting damage. Caladrin could not return home to his family because his clothes were dirty, which Arkash thought was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in his entire life, but he wasn't Entente. He didn't know that world.
Regardless, Arkash either needed some serious necromancy on his gunshot wounds or a particularly strong meal. It didn't look like he was getting either, and so, he had to bear the pain. Quietly, Arkash wheezed his shallow breaths, still clutching his ribs in the dark of the shitter.
"Aight... You've convinced me," he spoke to the order of being told not to move. Everything hurt to move, and his depleted stamina seemed to have a constant cap that prevented him from fully recovering all due to the one injury. He really did not need to be told twice not to move from where he rested.

When Caladrin left to fetch some plants, Arkash pursed his lips and laid his head back against the wall. He was alive, he could stay alive a while longer so long as he didn't push himself, and so long as he kept preying on family pets.
It was a good call to re-assume his humanoid form on their travels; they didn't need to draw any more attention to themselves than they already did, and Arkash appreciated the lack of hassle. He began to wonder if Caladrin was coming back after just five seconds alone, but too much of his focus was spent keeping himself together to do anything about it, and he needed the rest.
When the boy came back with a twig, Arkash's drifting eyes shot open in shock, and quickly darted about the dark interior of the outhouse to spy the twig he carried. Why the hell did Caladrin have a twig? "Dun' go shovin' that twig in me chest now," he warned. Such would not stand. Arkash wasn't a doctor but he knew no such method of healing that involved twigs... And then, Caladrin beheld that method.
Magic. Some sort of green magic, that drained the life from the twig and healed Arkash's wounds. He felt as his range of motion with his lungs increased just a little, and reveled in the next breath to follow. By the gods did that feel good. "Tha's..." he started, only to watch as Caladrin blew up. He pursed his lips through the man's apology, then sighed through his nose. "Arkash," he offered afterward. "My name's Arkash."
Why not offer the boy his name? If Caladrin wished ill upon him, he could have just left him in the desert. "No one else knows that, so don't go... Spreadin' it 'round... Nuffin' you saw back there, orite?" He had to make his warning known. It wouldn't go unnoticed if Caladrin started any rumors on his mark, or his true identity. Arkash would know where such rumors came from if they were spilled, and he knew the city in which the boy resided.

Caladrin had saved him in turn, so Arkash felt as though he owed the boy more than a quick death just to keep his secrets buried. He deserved a chance to live, a chance to not betray him as he'd grown to expect. The fact that he seemed to oppose his life as an entente was also intriguing. Could the nobility be convinced to give up their seats of power? Could he ever fulfill his purpose without bloodshed? Unlikely. But for the odd individual, there was hope.
"...Food," Arkash spoke in response to the man's question. He needed to eat if he wanted to heal. "I'm starving... The meatier the better..." he explained while he fixed his eyes on the boy. "it's alright if you don't want... To help, though. I can handle myself and you've done... Enough." Talking was hard, talking over a frantic panicking child was even harder.
"But if you help me out... I'll clean up your clothes for you... So you can go home... Sound fair?" Caladrin, a noble, probably didn't know the first thing about washing clothes. Arkash had lived in squalor his whole life; he could wash clothes in just about any water he found if he tried, but not in his current state.
"...And thanks, for getting me outta there," he added after a moment's pause, sincere in his tone and expression. A lot had happened since the event; his real self was bared to the boy, and he'd long stopped addressing him as Veir. Where they stood in the present was a little rocky, but Arkash somewhat trusted the unlanded lord.

Image source.

[Caladrin]

The moment where Caladrin had been doomed; it was a moment which tested him, mentally broken by the presence. He had no choice, for he was committing several Daravinic taboos, one affecting his appearance, the other was the gash in his jacket and most importantly, he was violating the code of immodesty. No skin should be shown. The efforts to heal Arkash was somewhat useful as the wound had been half closed, although that didn't stop his mageblight sickness. From what he witnessed, he wasn't sure he was doing the right thing; the moment of balance came to him like the darkness in the air "It's foul here, I know... But we'd have to make do; all I can do whilst we get ourselves sorted." He replied to the other man.

So much went through the young Sil'Norai's mind; the contemplation of goals, there was nothing that he could completely do. The green magic he channeled into Arkash had only saved him from bleeding out even more. Caladrin still had to do more though. He felt as if his life was owed to him. As a hint of gratitude he gave him his name. It was rather odd for him, since they had been fighting tooth at nail at each of their egos, that there was a development of something. Trust? Arkash didn't seem like that "Alright... Arkash." He nodded with a smile. The moment he tried to use more twigs of those twigs to suture and preserve Arkash's body "Just, don't do anything drastic whilst they heal, promise me that." He looked to Arkash with a sincere look in his eyes as he appeared to be concentrated, although he had been unable to heal anymore.

The frustration and tension on his face could see, he knew the risks with magic. He also knew the risks of Mageblight and Magithermal Entropy. He stopped as best as he could. He stopped and rested as the green aura around Caladrin dissipated and left the room in pure silence "Arkash..." He said to him as he looked at the other man as he revealed the warning "I don't know what you have to hide, nor do I really care..." He said as he stood up and gulped at the state of the man. He knew how predatory and vicious the Entente were; he knew that some of the greatest Veirs had to implement it from such a young age to secure their house survival.

Caladrin had panicked, but he chose to compose himself. A young noble who had been unsure about the world was now; it had made him challenge these hard dire times as he did not complain. He calmed himself down as he evaluated the situation. He had never lived his life in squalor, unlike Arkash. He had always lived in the luxury of his family; the thing which magic had brought him closer "Just... Don't mention anything about my mark alright? Nor any of this to Raphael." He pursed his lips as he looked over at the lizard as he was getting ready to leave "I won't be long, I'll try my best, no promises." He said as he went to the door for a moment, he stopped for a moment as there was a moment of gratitude from the other man.

"I thank you too for stepping in like that, it was a brave thing to do... I couldn't possibly leave you in there" He sighed as he frowned for a moment turning his head slightly to the side "That would make me like everyone else, Arkash." He paused as he looked over at the Rathor as he opened the door for himself "And you know something, I don't want to be like everyone else..." With such sincerity he nodded as he left the outhouse, shutting the door. It was a dark night in the slums; the worse place to be out. The young Entente would wonder where they could get food from, it was scarce in the area and he was also hungry.

As he travelled through the dark area of the alleyways to the town an unknown voice shouted at him "OI!" He screamed as Caladrin froze for a moment. A gang of serfs drabbled from the corners "Aha! We got ourselves a pointy folk, shouldn't be wondering in Arlain at night handsome..." The moment Caladrin gulped as he found himself surrounded, Arkash was not in the best state. He had to fight this one alone. At his level of strength, serfs and mages were equally adversarial; it was like pairing them up with a den of wolves.

"We don't wanna hurt you... We just, wanna show you folk your place in society. YOU POINTY EARED SCUMBAGS DESERVE TO BE EXTINCT!"

They pulled their knives out as his eyes widen, that fear he could be beaten to the ground at any moment as the young Entente, he put his fists up as he cycled through his opponents one by one. First up, came the scrawny young human who had nothing but a shiv in his hand. He knew he must toughen up. Did he go the wrong way? Or worse, where they following him. He gasped for a moment if some of them had found Arkash in the outhouse. He growled as the scrawny human came at him full force as he dodged to the side, before delivering a blow to the chest. The human had fallen to the ground as the next opponent Caladrin would come flailing at him with an axe.

He gasped as he dodged accordingly, before tripping the other man over. He didn't want to commit much harm to the serfs, but they aren't giving him that much of a choice, particularly when the slums of Arlain don't get checked for criminal activity that often "Oh for god sake..." He took a empty glass bottle from on top of one of the barrels and smashed it to create a makeshift weapon. The serfs backed away as he shook his head "I swear, you come near me and you'll have more to deal with, I'll tell you." A gang member laughed "This elf is cute, what's he gonna do shiv me with that."

"Bring it..."

The human serfs would laugh cockily as they grunted, booed and laughed as Caladrin looked confused for a moment as one of the human serfs would throw an axe at Caladrin; the moment of cool kept in as Caladrin only winced slightly as he noticed how much of a close shave it was to his head. It had just missed by a fraction "Will you just leave me alone?"

"GET HIM!"

Caladrin he threw the glass bottle at one of the serf as he readied his fists. He ducked at the incoming throwing axe as the first serf charged at him.

Dodge.

First dagger strike.

Evade.

Second dagger strike.

Duck and weave.

Clash.

A skull shattering blow to the face was delivered as it appeared the serf, followed by a punch in the cervix area of the throat as the serf fell unconscious. Another of the serfs became particularly angry as he growled and came charging at the taller Sil'Norai with nothing but a club in his hand "THAT WAS MY BROTHER, YOU PIECE OF SCUM! ARRGHHH!" He watched for a moment as he grabbed the man by the wrist and punched him a couple of times in the stomach. He wrestled with the knife for a moment as he punched the man in the bicep a couple of times as he knocked it out his hand. He continued to wrestle around, before delivering a final blow to the stomach and shoving him into a set of wooden barrels.

The fear he once experienced had turned into adrenaline as he looked over at the final serf who appeared to be cowering. The scrawny human that came after him "Well, are you gonna FUCK OFF!" His look became a petrifying glare as the serf shuddered in fear; it was as if he was about to shit his pants. The Sil'Norai male had delivered his final blow, although Caladrin had chosen to defend himself, he wondered if he was able to get them food at this time of night. He did not know the area very well, considering the man had lived in Amoren and progressed between Cisperant and Valtoria. He did not know Arlain very well.

The worry had settled in.

For Arkash.

He wondered if he had been attacked by those thugs.

He worried for a moment as he shook his head, wondering if he should return to Arkash in a hurry but found he was still in the same position as before "Oh thank god." He said with worry; eventually he turned around and went back to the outhouse that he was in "Fucking hell, can we not get through the day without someone on our case..." He said as he had been exasperated from the fight "Fucking racist piles of shit!" He plonked the axe down as he shook his head "Why does everything always have to be complicated, first the badlands and now this. What the fuck is going on, I tell you we might be some fucking unlucky bastards lately..." He said in an exhausted tone.

Little did he know, he know he had pulled a few muscles from the previous attack; from lifting that heavy axe. He winced as he shook his head "Ahh... Fuck" He said in an exasperated tone as he slid down the wall "I think I've torn a ligament, those bastards..." He looked at Arkash for a moment as he looked at the state he's in "I'm fine though, it's just a muscle, it'll fix..." He said as he pursed his lips, feeling the essence of pain from the fight. It was desperation for him, but yet there could be others outside.

"It's safe in here, I hope..." He nodded for a moment as Caladrin appeared to be worried; he remained silent as he delved into his thoughts even more.

[Arkash]

"...No food, then?" Arkash asked at the elf's return, then scoffed. His brow furrowed in frustration, at least until Caladrin had his moment of uproar. He rose both brows, then quirked them quizzingly. The boy had gotten in a fight? With some elf racists? He flattened his lips at that, pursing them tightly while his nose maintained his shallow breathing.
He looked the boy up and down, then glanced to the ax he carried. "...And you're alive?" he asked, evidently unsure. "Wish you whipped out those moves back in the fuckin' desert..." He complained some more, then rested his head against the wall of the outhouse.
His stomach felt all sorts of things, some of which shouldn't have coincided with each other. He was nauseous but hungry, curled in knots and bloated. The spit in his mouth turned hot and thin, coaxing some sort of reaction from his tongue, and only clenched the sac of his stomach where it rested in response.
As if instant Karma had hit him, Arkash threw himself forward and doubled over the shitter. His whole body jerked as he vomited the contents of his bottomless stomach: etheric, black bile; corruption. His heaving continued until his body had purged the gunk from his system, and he dropped back against the wall of the outhouse, spent and exhausted.

After a moment of silence, Arkash spoke "...I think I'm sick..." over the burning pain in his chest. No doubt he'd disrupted whatever healing he'd accomplished with that move. He rolled the weight of his head against the wall in despair; miserable.
"Sorry you'a arms hurtin'," he offered with subtle sarcasm, then pushed his way to the door to stumble out on his shot leg. A hiss of pain saw him clench his jaw, and he swallowed hard before he brought his back to the wall again. The night was cool, which was nice. The fresh air helped to clear his head, and the stink of feces receded to the foreground of his mind.
He had to eat something, and Caladrin had proven himself incapable of gathering any sort of food that wasn't handed to him on a silver platter, so it was up to the rathor... But how was he supposed to hunt anything when he could barely stand?
Arkash exhaled then and looked to the outhouse door. "Is there a doorway here in Arlain?" he asked, raising his voice at the cost of a prompt coughing fit that saw him double and sputter black bile onto his hand. "Hallway-" He corrected. "Fuckin'- Portal nexus..." he clarified. "Raphael uses it... To get t' Amoren." He clarified. "That's where we're headed, right...?"
He took a moment to catch his breath, black mess spattered all over his human palette and dripping from his lips. "...How do we get 'ew there?" he asked after a moment's pause. How did he fall so far? A few gunshots and he could barely hold his own against the wind. The black stuff in his system wasn't helping, he imagined.

"Can 'ew even use it?" he asked after a moment's breath, then looked about his surroundings. It appeared they were alone, at least for the time being. That was good, Arkash didn't want any trouble on his last legs, not wherever the hell Caladrin had taken them. But then, who was to say Arkash's senses were working right while he was suffering mageblight?

Image source.

[Caladrin]

When one obstacle passed, there was always another.

He came back and sighed as he shook his head "Well done, Captain Obvious" He replied pointing out it out as frustration lingered on his face. He raised an eyebrow as he looked around the outhouse for any resources he could use, but there was none. The place stunk of shit, followed by the rats that lingered all over the place "I'm trying my best, but with my current situation, it's looking very pessimistic for us." He said. He used the word "us" as a signifier for them being stuck in the predicament. He frowned at the pain he must have felt, followed by the accompaniment of his current situation "Yeah, I'm alive alright, if I step out into the streets the Halamire would strip me down and flog me to their hearts content. An Entente man is not meant to reveal a single ounce of their skin aswell, hands and hair for that matters." He said with a sigh as he shrugged "Atleast one thing, you don't have to wear those gowns that make you feel like your wearing a hot air balloon most of the time." He joked.

It was no laughing matter; those huge gowns and regalias in the summer would often cause Entente to faint during soirees and other banquets; not that Caladrin had been to such a sophisticated event "Oh dear, Arkash." He said with a sigh as he rolled his eyes "If I whipped out those moves against those badlanders, I think we would've both have been dead in the desert..." He said with a sigh; he seemed to have forgotten that he did try to fight. However, it only lead him to being pummeled into the sand, like a useless rock.

Caladrin's face lit up in disgust as he watched him vomit that black ethereal bile straight from his stream. His stomach was empty. That was a bad sign "Mageblight..." He said with a sigh as he needed to think of something fast, his expression was a mixture of anger and concern as he shook his head "Damn it, Arkash... Do you not know the boundaries of being a mage, has no one educated you or taught you..." There was a genuine concern amongst the man's face "You are sick, now hold on. No more magic for you." He walked up to him and hooked his arm as he tried to make him more comfortable leaning him against the wall.

A doorway? Caladrin was confused for a moment as he mentioned it, until he corrected himself "The Hallway, hmm..." He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the Rathor "Yeah, I didn't know if there was one in Valtoria, but I knew there would've been one in Cisper-" He trailed off for a moment as he rolled his eyes and slapped his palm straight against his head "Fuck my life..." He shook his head once again "Well, Halamire would be guarding the Hallway, in order to get in I have to present my mark; bad news though... You know Entente customs, if I happen to show my mark. I would be arrested, so..." He paused.

Caladrin appeared to be in deep thought as he was thinking; a plan to escape and get home, however it wasnt easy; the Halamire kept everything under military control "Hmm... Where would you find drunk noblemen on a night like this?" He wondered, out of curiosity as he had a plan. The only option would be to steal a man's clothes. As much as it was a sin to address someone else in immodesty, it had to be done. It was for Caladrin's merit after all. The Daravinic Empire supported meritocracy.

"Shout if you need anything, or if your in trouble." Caladrin had already left. He was about to make a big risk, kidnapping another noble for his clothes? What could possibly go wrong. The fact that Caladrin didn't know the mages around here put him in far more danger than he should. However, this was his survival instinct; especially in the Daravinic Empire. If Caladrin needed or wanted something, he'd go out and get it himself, like he had done just now. He watched from the shadows of the Alleyway as a drunk nobleman stumbled through. The young Sil'Norai was in luck as he found a victim; Caladrin's conscience began to tingle, his stomach felt sick at what he was about to do.

"You're not lost are ya..." He said, putting on a fake commoner accent. Necrosthesia had began to charge as he had his hand behind his back, generating a thick black viscious goo in his hand. Pathos. The key to creating a Bane, a type of curse which had left fear in the hearts and minds of religious orders. It was one reason why Caladrin kept this dark art a secret. It was truely dark, only this bane was much more lighter than the other ones. Sopor. A way to decrease someone's alacrity, a way to put them in a deep sleep. It was the only thing Caladrin had access to.

Caladrin had batted his eyelids as he got closer to the noble. He appeared to be more drunk than usual as he slammed Caladrin against the wall "What's that you've got behind your hand" He asked. However, Caladrin's look became cold, shriven with a murderous intent, however his Bane did not commit harm. He could see he was tired and vulnerable to it's effects as well as drunk. He eventually held his hand "Why don't you come with me..." He said as he grabbed him with the Pathos-infested hand. The nobleman would begin to drain easily as he was guided to the house "Whaa... What's this." He said as the fellow Entente would feel a sense of tiredness and weakness in his joints.

By the time he opened the door. he had pushed the noble in and he had passed out from the use of Sopor. He frantically stripped off his own clothing as he undressed the other man with such haste. Caladrin still had Pathos lingering on his hand, although it slowly disintegrated into ashes. Caladrin had given away the secret.

He was a Ferrier.

A presence to be feared, should he become stronger in the future. He dressed accordingly in the man's suit as he sighed with relief as he looked away in total oblivion from the body as he looked out of the window. He noticed his brother had been in the area as he stopped and looked "Telias?"" He questioned himself for who the identity of the man was.

"Are you ready, Arkash, or whatever you prefer to be called, Arky, Arkodite, Kash..." He joked with his name as he shrugged.

"If so, lets leave this place..."

[Arkash]

"Mageblight..." Arkash started after he'd finished vomiting, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "I know what strain is," he assured. "I know my boundaries; I've overstepped before," continued the rath, "but... I didn't convert that much ether, I was using blight..." Indeed. As a blood mage, Arkash had the option of using power he found in the blood of others or himself to power his abilities. How had he overstepped? What had changed? Then he realized; He'd spent the last days of the season training with Raphael, practicing his abilities. Had he brought himself to the cusp of Mastery, and pushed himself over the edge when he cast the Bloodfury they'd never gotten to test?
He knew that advancing in tiers granted some level of strain, and the development of new mutations also counted toward that strain. In his mind, it made sense that he would have advanced to Mastery after casting the ability he'd only theorized in Raphael's supervision, the ability his initiator had tried to use in his dying breath, the ability strong enough to wipe out an entire gang in one fell swoop.
His eye looked to Caladrin when he thought, and his shallow, ragged breathing continued. Could Caladrin realize that, perhaps? Was there a way that the boy could deduct what had happened from the clues he'd unintentionally dropped? "...Maybe I did push myself, though... I'd never used the ability I cast to wipe those pricks out before, so it makes sense," he lied. Anyone that understood the workings of blood magic would know that he couldn't overstep while using Blight in place of his own personal ether.

"Potato sacks ain't so comfy either, y'know," Arkash returned at the gesture regarding noble attire. It was just like the nobility to complain about the clothes they wore when they were of much higher quality and style. Meanwhile, there stood Arkash in burlap rags, torn to Bel and back from the wear and tear of life in slavery, numerous wounds, and all the same things that the previous owners had endured.
It was then that he let himself out of the outhouse, and looked about his surroundings while Caladrin formulated a plan in regard to the Hallway. Arkash remained quiet, then rest against the wall of the outhouse. As Caladrin left the shitter, Arkash cast a glance at him through tired eyes and exhaled through his mouth.

The next breath he drew was through his nose, and he intentionally grabbed at all the smells in the area. The outhouse made it hard to tell what it was that surrounded him, but he could smell the tell-tale musk of animals nearby. Sharp eyes and keen eyes scanned the area, darting to and fro in search of something, anything with a beating heart, anything with a life to steal.
Animals were normally something he targeted out of desperation; when he was unable to access the guards or the nobility, as fayeth had taught him not to feed on the powerless. Animals usually didn't contribute much to his evolution, but they did sustain him. healing was another matter, too.
Then, he found the source of the musk, some ways away from him, and behind one of the hip-height stone walls that contained the outcropping of green from the rest of the city. But was he alone? He couldn't be sure, so he just had to get closer. "Yeah," he answered Caladrin absent-mindedly, quite obviously not paying attention. When the man left, however, all his focus was revealed to be on that scent beyond, and he began his approach.

Step by step, Arkash limped on his shot leg while he clutched his chest, and bared his teeth to hiss with every painful push. It wasn't working properly, his leg, but it was enough to get him to the wall. His mouth wettened as he drew closer to the beating heart beyond, and he pressed his good arm into the wall to support his meager weight while he leaned to peer over the formation of cut stone.
The animal he found... Wasn't an animal at all. Sat against the wall was a small human boy, wrapped in some unwashed pelt or other. When Arkash stood next to him, it was plain to smell that the animal scent he'd caught concealed the unwashed odor of humanity, but it had been harder to differentiate from where he originally stood.
As if on cue, the boy looked up at him, met his eyes in one movement. "Oui, Monsieur?" He asked in Gentaverse, a language Arkash steadily grew more familiar with.
The Rathor sighed and shook his head. "...Nuffin, kid." He muttered as he stood up straight, then turned to sit on that same wall. He wasn't eating that night, it seemed. there was nothing else in the area to sustain him... Except for Caladrin, whenever he returned.

Quietly, the boy got up, collected his bag, then moved to another spot in the stone complex. Arkash sighed again, then looked up to spy Caladrin as the man approached the outhouse. The rath could barely speak at normal volume, let alone shout, and Caladrin had yet to notice him. The Noble asked his question, and Arkash pushed to his feet.
Holding his chest, he approached the boy noble from the side, then cleared his throat abruptly to steal the Veir's attention. "...Needed some fresh air," he explained his disappearance before the noble could quiz him on where he went. "Nice clothes, where'd 'ew steal 'em?" he asked, then balled his fist to cough against it. "I'm ready... But..." The rathor started, pausing while he thought.
"What's the plan?" he quizzed once he'd decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. "...Am I pretendin' to be your slave, just beat up and messy? How do we explain why I'm there...?" He let silence fill the space between them for a moment before he leaned his back against the wall of the outhouse with a creak. "...If you're sure about helping me," he added.

Image source.

[Thomas]

Reviewed

Points Received: 8
Lore Received:

• Hunting: People can mask their scent with animal pelts
• Hunting: Listen for movement
• Hunting: Be still and watch your surroundings
• Hunting: Unworthy prey
• Hunting: There aren't too many animals in a city

Injuries: Some gunshot wounds and a punctured lung. Nothing a hearty meal won't fix.
Loot: n/a

Comment: Arkash's body is a temple, but like the kind from Metroid: crumbling, twisted, you need to turn into a sentient ball to get inside.