23rd of Saun 722
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He came to the conclusion, with the emotioal upheaval of Ildred's ultimatum, and his own maelstrom of conflict that he couldn't take that step. Not yet, perhaps not ever. Rakvald liked himself the way he was. Could he surrender that to some unknown factor, in the hopes of gaining some measure of power? Who was he really anymore? The Hunchback cephalopod that had emerged from the various mutations to his flesh, or the mortal soul of Rakvald Devukrantz. As he held the small trinket in the palm of his clawed hand, he considered this.
And for a moment, the Inheritor nearly spoke to him, its will so strong an influence now that it could just about command him to action. There were other sparks, but the Inheritor as he'd come to know it, was strongest by far. He closed his glassy eyes for a moment, and then without attmepting to think on it more than another moment, he slipped the ring onto his right ring finger. Then, a most excruciating reversal began. He felt the tentacled arm begin to shift and warp, knitting itself back together, the bone regrowing.
His face began heating up, bubbling with the heat of the changes underlying his very soul's fabric, as the sparks went dormant, and all of the witchmarks began to subside, all of the mutations, all of the power dissolved in that instant. It was horrid, and he did groan as Renfreud drove their carriage onwards to Rharne.
When he recovered his faculties, he took a look in a reflective surface nearby. There, he saw the reflected human face of Jim Fino, the man whose totem he wore at the moment, the one he'd chosen to put his feet forward with. He'd still go by his name, and not hide who he was. But for now, this was the closest thing to an ordinary human form that he possessed, his Lotharro form having been sacrificed on the altar of arcane evolution arcs ago.
Renfreud's wagon rolled on, and he saw the ramshackle hovels of the outer Dust Quarter now passing him by in the porthole window of the carriage. When at last they passed a watering hole, Rakvald hailed Renfreud in Vahanic. "Stop Renfreud. I will get out here."
Having said it, the carriage groaned to a slow brake. Then, Ravald stepped out, clothed in a voluminous robe of simple but thick cloth. It was raining outside, torrentially, and overcast overhead. Rakvald threw the cowl of the robe over his head, and passed a bit of coin to Renfreud, along with a list. "This is what I"ll need. I've included measurements for the tailors and outfitters. Do not let it go astray."
"Yes Master." Renfreud said, his eyes strange as he regarded the dormant mage's new features. He wasn't sure what the Quacian thought of his sudden transformation. But he did trust that REnfreud would continue to be patient. Rakvald would eventually teach him what he knew, but he had issues to iron out first.
Then, the carriage roared back to full trot into the Earth Quarter, and Rakvald entered a tavern, with a Pig on its sign. The Painted Swine. Interesting, that he, once a pig rancher, should come full circle at this of all places.
Regardless, he entered, and looked around at the sparse crowd of patrons before approachig the bar.
