Even in Chaos (Graded)
Posted: Mon Jan 27, 2020 12:59 am
87 Zi'da, Arc 719
Southguard
It wasn't easy to walk through the town of Southguard but it would have been infinitely more difficult if Llyr had allowed complete expression of who - or what - he was. He had not walked into the town blindly. He knew of the disdain that the Southguard populace felt toward Immortals. His very biqaj-blood got him a few glances, but nothing more than that and a drunken mutter or two. A vast difference from what might have resulted if he'd had a halo above his head, or wings at his back, or any number of magic awakenings that could appear as if they were blessings.
The blessing itself, Yvithia's silvery mark that graced the one side of his face like a tattoo, he 'd covered with a thick coat of make-up.
While he could have worn a totem, Llyr opted not to. Yes, there might be a rare sort who linked his appearance to who he was in Etzos, but... better to be seen in the south of the city than the north. The Ring of Paradigm on his pinkie finger made sure that his magic stayed out of visible sight, the sparks suppressed. Besides, since his travel through the towns in the Etzori territory, no one seemed keen to speak about Marshall Webb's assassination; and if they recognized Llyr, they did not say nor bother him.
Sparks sealed, blessing covered, he walked along the main road in Southguard without concern beyond being outside during the worst of the cold season. For a while, with exception to his venture north to Viden, he'd been in Southguard for a while like this. Bundled up in a heavy scarf, coat, gloves, and boots over warm layers of clothing, he walked along the roads to find any animals or people in need of help. Every morning, every midday, and every evening, he did this.
On this cold morning, he came across a man wrapped in furs and coarse fabrics. For a brief moment, Llyr hesitated. The last time he'd seen a hulking figure with so much patchworked on... he'd nearly died. His mentor and his adopted daughter had both died during that same encounter. Llyr could almost see the obsidian shards of what was left of the abrogant who'd taught him much of Emea. He could envision the frail, cold body of little Hazel and-
-he could see her, in her ghostly form, hovered behind the stranger. She didn't remain long, though, and vanished from his sight again.
This could not be that same man. Llyr had killed him. He had cut that knife over his throat, and watched him bleed to death. The first time he'd ever killed anyone by his own hand. Llyr felt sweat unusually gather on his skin, and his breath held in his lungs. Muscles tense, he kept forward to pass by the traveler.
"Magpie?" asked the man, voice muffled behind a scarf.
Llyr paused, and then glanced over the stranger.
"Mister Magpie?" tried the stranger again, though this time he lowered the scarf. The man spoke in a heavy Etzori accent, "It's y', innit?"
Still, Llyr said nothing more. He glanced down the road, to see how far he'd gotten from the town of Southguard. Not that far, he could still see the smoke rising from the inn where he'd gotten a room.
"Me name is Tilon, from Westguard," explained the man. "I'd been sent yer way, been looking for y' for a long while now. If it is y'..."
"Yes," confirmed Llyr simply. "Who sent you?"
"Yer Madam. Madam Miller, up at Prime."
"You have business to conduct?" inquired Llyr while he allowed his breath to even again, and the sweat cooled along his temples. A few streaks had disrupted his make-up though.
"Aye, she said y'd have an inkling to personally handle what I want..."
"Very well. Follow me," replied Llyr. He turned and started back toward the town. He led for the inn, as his room could provide a fine office. It only meant that he'd likely have to get a second room for actual rest and meditation.
Once inside the room, Llyr shut the door and took off his own scarf. He hung it on a coat rack, then did the same for most of his outer wear, with exception to his gloves that he left on. He went over to the round table set with a couple chairs in the corner, then gestured for Tilon to sit.
"If you prefer," said Llyr in the Ith'ession language. "We can speak in your native tongue."
"Appreciate it," returned the man while he pulled off his layers. Eventually, he revealed to be an average sort. A thick black beard blanketed the lower half of his face from view. Human, or appearing so, he dug out a medium-sized box from his coat and set it on the table. "I'd like to get an estimate of how much this is worth but... it is... of possible sensitive material."
Llyr switched the clasp, then opened the box. Nestled in a bed of velvet, a round amulet rested. "You only seek an appraisal of worth? Any jeweler could do this for you."
"I believe there are magic properties to this amulet. If so, they are unknown and... I want to know them." Tilon reached to shut the box. "If you can't, though..."
"I did not say I couldn't." Llyr set his hand on the box as well, so it wasn't returned to the coat. He forced a smile. The biqaj's eyes turned a topaz yellow hue. "In fact, it should be rather simple but it will require time... and partial payment upfront."
Once sure that the box would remain on the table, Llyr walked over to a dresser across the way. From the top drawer, he retrieved a folder and a scribe kit. He returned to the table, set them down in tidy order, then opened the folder. He handed the already written contract over for Tilon to look at.
"This is our ordinary agreement for appraisals, the only matter is to decide is the costs. For an amulet, with possible magic, it might seem like a steep cost but Curious Constellations is always willing to accept payment other than nels," explained Llyr.
"Right... this looks..." Tilon hesitated, then nodded and said, "I have the nel. You just tell me how much you want."
Llyr quoted a slightly moderate price, while he watched Tilon's eyes glaze over. He recognized that look. The man probably couldn't read, but was too proud to admit it. He slid the contract back over, scribbled the details onto it, then promptly read it aloud in Ith'ession so that Tilon knew exactly what it said.
"Yes, that sounds acceptable," agreed Tilon and he scrawled his signature at the bottom of the scroll.
"Excellent, return in five trials time and I should have your estimate prepared."
Llyr saw the man out, then, and as soon as he was gone... he settled with the inn to get a second room that neighbored the first. Now, he would conduct business out of the one and sleep in the other. The biqaj prepared the areas, then he took off his ring of paradigm.
Five Days Later... 92 Zi'da, Arc 719
Llyr's mutations had returned as soon as the ring left his finger. He remained inside the inn room, not leaving for any reason, not even to eat. His magic, on the other hand, took far longer to recover. As the sparks roused from their stasis, he observed the amulet in every physical and mundane approach. It was nice enough, sturdy rather than fragile, and he realized that it opened to a hollow interior. Markings etched the inside. He studied these markings as well, but he hadn't seen them before.
By the time his sparks recovered, Llyr found himself just as curious about the amulet as Tilon seemed to be.
Seated on the floor, he played with the ether that flowed through his sparks, until certain with the familiar sensation that his channeled magic would not backfire. He held the amulet between both hands, and through his Transmutation spark, he gradually begun the process of identification.
The chain of the amulet was real gold, and from an Etzori mine. It had only been a chain for about two arcs, though. The amulet itself was an alloy of metals, engraved and cared for, and about five arcs old since crafted from the materials that made it. He explored the gold, analyzing and setting the quality to his spark's memory.
With the Transmutation appraisal, he rerouted his ether through his Attunement spark instead. This time, he analyzed the item for any hints of ether or otherwise... but nothing. Despite the fine craftsmanship and unusual markings, the jewelry was nothing more than an ordinary amulet.
Llyr spent the next hour, writing an orderly list of all the attributes and his findings with a cost analysis of potential worth. Though it wasn't magical, it was still of good worth with the gold that made up the chain. He returned it to the box, folded up and placed the assessment into an envelope, then set it aside. Not long after that, Tilon arrived. Llyr handed it over, and explained what he had found. Though disappointed, Tilon paid the second installment of his agreed payment and then went on his way.
The biqaj decided that he needed to travel on, though. For Tilon had stared a little too long at the halo above his head, and at the mutations now on display. Llyr did not want to remain in Southguard in such a manner, so once he packed away his possessions and his newly acquired payment from the job, he continued on his travels out and away from Etzos.
Southguard
It wasn't easy to walk through the town of Southguard but it would have been infinitely more difficult if Llyr had allowed complete expression of who - or what - he was. He had not walked into the town blindly. He knew of the disdain that the Southguard populace felt toward Immortals. His very biqaj-blood got him a few glances, but nothing more than that and a drunken mutter or two. A vast difference from what might have resulted if he'd had a halo above his head, or wings at his back, or any number of magic awakenings that could appear as if they were blessings.
The blessing itself, Yvithia's silvery mark that graced the one side of his face like a tattoo, he 'd covered with a thick coat of make-up.
While he could have worn a totem, Llyr opted not to. Yes, there might be a rare sort who linked his appearance to who he was in Etzos, but... better to be seen in the south of the city than the north. The Ring of Paradigm on his pinkie finger made sure that his magic stayed out of visible sight, the sparks suppressed. Besides, since his travel through the towns in the Etzori territory, no one seemed keen to speak about Marshall Webb's assassination; and if they recognized Llyr, they did not say nor bother him.
Sparks sealed, blessing covered, he walked along the main road in Southguard without concern beyond being outside during the worst of the cold season. For a while, with exception to his venture north to Viden, he'd been in Southguard for a while like this. Bundled up in a heavy scarf, coat, gloves, and boots over warm layers of clothing, he walked along the roads to find any animals or people in need of help. Every morning, every midday, and every evening, he did this.
On this cold morning, he came across a man wrapped in furs and coarse fabrics. For a brief moment, Llyr hesitated. The last time he'd seen a hulking figure with so much patchworked on... he'd nearly died. His mentor and his adopted daughter had both died during that same encounter. Llyr could almost see the obsidian shards of what was left of the abrogant who'd taught him much of Emea. He could envision the frail, cold body of little Hazel and-
-he could see her, in her ghostly form, hovered behind the stranger. She didn't remain long, though, and vanished from his sight again.
This could not be that same man. Llyr had killed him. He had cut that knife over his throat, and watched him bleed to death. The first time he'd ever killed anyone by his own hand. Llyr felt sweat unusually gather on his skin, and his breath held in his lungs. Muscles tense, he kept forward to pass by the traveler.
"Magpie?" asked the man, voice muffled behind a scarf.
Llyr paused, and then glanced over the stranger.
"Mister Magpie?" tried the stranger again, though this time he lowered the scarf. The man spoke in a heavy Etzori accent, "It's y', innit?"
Still, Llyr said nothing more. He glanced down the road, to see how far he'd gotten from the town of Southguard. Not that far, he could still see the smoke rising from the inn where he'd gotten a room.
"Me name is Tilon, from Westguard," explained the man. "I'd been sent yer way, been looking for y' for a long while now. If it is y'..."
"Yes," confirmed Llyr simply. "Who sent you?"
"Yer Madam. Madam Miller, up at Prime."
"You have business to conduct?" inquired Llyr while he allowed his breath to even again, and the sweat cooled along his temples. A few streaks had disrupted his make-up though.
"Aye, she said y'd have an inkling to personally handle what I want..."
"Very well. Follow me," replied Llyr. He turned and started back toward the town. He led for the inn, as his room could provide a fine office. It only meant that he'd likely have to get a second room for actual rest and meditation.
Once inside the room, Llyr shut the door and took off his own scarf. He hung it on a coat rack, then did the same for most of his outer wear, with exception to his gloves that he left on. He went over to the round table set with a couple chairs in the corner, then gestured for Tilon to sit.
"If you prefer," said Llyr in the Ith'ession language. "We can speak in your native tongue."
"Appreciate it," returned the man while he pulled off his layers. Eventually, he revealed to be an average sort. A thick black beard blanketed the lower half of his face from view. Human, or appearing so, he dug out a medium-sized box from his coat and set it on the table. "I'd like to get an estimate of how much this is worth but... it is... of possible sensitive material."
Llyr switched the clasp, then opened the box. Nestled in a bed of velvet, a round amulet rested. "You only seek an appraisal of worth? Any jeweler could do this for you."
"I believe there are magic properties to this amulet. If so, they are unknown and... I want to know them." Tilon reached to shut the box. "If you can't, though..."
"I did not say I couldn't." Llyr set his hand on the box as well, so it wasn't returned to the coat. He forced a smile. The biqaj's eyes turned a topaz yellow hue. "In fact, it should be rather simple but it will require time... and partial payment upfront."
Once sure that the box would remain on the table, Llyr walked over to a dresser across the way. From the top drawer, he retrieved a folder and a scribe kit. He returned to the table, set them down in tidy order, then opened the folder. He handed the already written contract over for Tilon to look at.
"This is our ordinary agreement for appraisals, the only matter is to decide is the costs. For an amulet, with possible magic, it might seem like a steep cost but Curious Constellations is always willing to accept payment other than nels," explained Llyr.
"Right... this looks..." Tilon hesitated, then nodded and said, "I have the nel. You just tell me how much you want."
Llyr quoted a slightly moderate price, while he watched Tilon's eyes glaze over. He recognized that look. The man probably couldn't read, but was too proud to admit it. He slid the contract back over, scribbled the details onto it, then promptly read it aloud in Ith'ession so that Tilon knew exactly what it said.
"Yes, that sounds acceptable," agreed Tilon and he scrawled his signature at the bottom of the scroll.
"Excellent, return in five trials time and I should have your estimate prepared."
Llyr saw the man out, then, and as soon as he was gone... he settled with the inn to get a second room that neighbored the first. Now, he would conduct business out of the one and sleep in the other. The biqaj prepared the areas, then he took off his ring of paradigm.
Five Days Later... 92 Zi'da, Arc 719
Llyr's mutations had returned as soon as the ring left his finger. He remained inside the inn room, not leaving for any reason, not even to eat. His magic, on the other hand, took far longer to recover. As the sparks roused from their stasis, he observed the amulet in every physical and mundane approach. It was nice enough, sturdy rather than fragile, and he realized that it opened to a hollow interior. Markings etched the inside. He studied these markings as well, but he hadn't seen them before.
By the time his sparks recovered, Llyr found himself just as curious about the amulet as Tilon seemed to be.
Seated on the floor, he played with the ether that flowed through his sparks, until certain with the familiar sensation that his channeled magic would not backfire. He held the amulet between both hands, and through his Transmutation spark, he gradually begun the process of identification.
The chain of the amulet was real gold, and from an Etzori mine. It had only been a chain for about two arcs, though. The amulet itself was an alloy of metals, engraved and cared for, and about five arcs old since crafted from the materials that made it. He explored the gold, analyzing and setting the quality to his spark's memory.
With the Transmutation appraisal, he rerouted his ether through his Attunement spark instead. This time, he analyzed the item for any hints of ether or otherwise... but nothing. Despite the fine craftsmanship and unusual markings, the jewelry was nothing more than an ordinary amulet.
Llyr spent the next hour, writing an orderly list of all the attributes and his findings with a cost analysis of potential worth. Though it wasn't magical, it was still of good worth with the gold that made up the chain. He returned it to the box, folded up and placed the assessment into an envelope, then set it aside. Not long after that, Tilon arrived. Llyr handed it over, and explained what he had found. Though disappointed, Tilon paid the second installment of his agreed payment and then went on his way.
The biqaj decided that he needed to travel on, though. For Tilon had stared a little too long at the halo above his head, and at the mutations now on display. Llyr did not want to remain in Southguard in such a manner, so once he packed away his possessions and his newly acquired payment from the job, he continued on his travels out and away from Etzos.
