Against the Night

[Drakeyboy]

Drake was caught off gaurd with the sudden turn of focus for the conversation. But it was a topic center could talk for ages about without even realizing dispite his quiet demeanor. Still though he rubbed the back of his neck as he formulated his words because he didn't want to bore the man. "Well... currently i have fire, summoning, illusion, plain, and a small amount of healing. But my arsenal is always changing because I'm a spell crafter." He said ready to be bombarded with another series of questions.

[Cyril]

Camille smirked a bit as the one he'd protected with a shield just as easily disappeared into the darkness. Maybe next time, I'll save myself the energy. He thought to himself as he felt the person get out of his range and stop contributing to his resource. People who disappeared so easily weren't worth the follow, he just shrugged a bit and his ears perked as Drake listed everything he could do.


"Jack of all trades, master of none, I see." He chuckled toward Drake, his narrow eyes upon him while the group inquired of him. Although he statement was slightly hypocritical, due to the fact that he himself had far from mastered anything himself, he mostly said it to show that he was still present. The jackal then kept quiet, having little questions for him. His gaze shifted towards Namael and the others, smirking wryly while his mind wandered.

He didn't really care for spirits. His power was bound by social alliance and raw life. By such, it'd be easy for him to take such things as spirits and life for granted. Even if the well dried, there would always be another source to find and harvest. He grunted and followed around the back, tying up his hair tiredly and idly healing over his slight burns. As his power mostly benefited those around him, the trade was immediately complete.

However, he did feel slightly less powerful than initially, caused by Namael's annoyance of him. He was still contributing to an alliance, however less than the others who had less of an opinion on the jackal.

[Goblin Cat 😸]

 “Not a problem.” The bully replied with a grin. Had his hands not have been full, he likely would have struck a prideful pose – not that he needed more compliments to stroke his ego. Even with his current soreness, the few words were good enough to make him raring to go once more. He was a heavy hitter and proudly so, if that hadn't been obvious with how willing he was to jump into the fray.

 
He hardly paid attention to anyone else as Nemael spoke with him, mostly due to the fact that they hadn't shown any interest in him, even when he tried to be personable. He wasn't offended so much as he didn't see a reason to continue putting effort into something that was bearing no results. Eyes running along Nemael's features, he gave a small smirk. “We did play well together with minimal infighting. I can stick around so long as that continues. I don't see that as unfortunate so much as I see it more of an opportunity for extra coin. More cooperation means bigger things to chase, bigger things means more pay.” Again his tail whipped back and forth, almost anxiously.

 
At the change of subject, Mort couldn't help but laugh. “A spirit's being awfully generous, don't you think?” The bully arched a brow with one of those lopsided grins, honestly amused at the assumption, even if it wasn't far from the mark. Surely the other had to have some idea about his nature if he asked that much. “I guess in a manner of speaking I am, but not like people think when they think of spirits.” He pat the hound's head as he spoke, “I was a collector of sorts. But yes, I don't originate from this plane, if that's what you're asking.” The canine seemed reluctant to divulge the entirety of his nature, if not just because of how it was stigmatized – even if it was for good reason. Where he was from, things like the hound they took down was not unusual.

[Drakeyboy]

Drake smirked at the remark. He didn't name one specific type of magic because well it was counter magic. Being in a group mostly comprised of mages that would cause friction with the group especially this early. "I'm actually a master of all my trades and breaking new ground quickly." He said with confidence. Sure he wasn't a complete master but what he did have he perfected. But then this all comes back down to his ability to store mana. Without a good source he would simply dry up in a matter of minutes. But with a good source he could basically use his spells indefinitely. He then waited for any other remarks or questions.

[tangletail]

“ Once this assignment is done, I have another for you on such short notice. An informant had brought me a curious bit of information. Usually I’d have these vermin exterminated on sight, but this one seemed to have to brought me something interesting. Investigate this. If no merit has been brought from it, then kill the bastard for wasting my time. You are free to do what you see fit with this if something does come up from it. I’ll trust your judgement. Remember, Complacency is worse than not an option.”

That… strange exert echoed in Neshar’s mind. His mistress was usually more direct than this. She never bothered with encryption. She couldn’t even care if the messenger bird had been shot down with the notes read.  If someone wanted it, then no tide or hell would stop them from getting that message. But this… this didn’t seem like her. Something genuinely had her curious. Maybe worried? Heh – if that was even possible for the general.

Although… there were something could easily confirm it. “I’ll trust your judgement.” A sign that his mistress was really giving him full authority on this one. “Complacency is worse than not an option.” She means that he better be sure what he’s doing with - whatever it is- is something he was fully sure of was the best option. Something he really only had to do once. So what could potentially be so bad? That… worried the thief. The last time he had received those code words, he had to wade through both a metaphorical and maybe literal hell, while sneaking past and killing a few cultist and demons… and completely avoiding a succubus of all things. Good thing he’s not easily lured by the female crowd… or he might not have made it through that. THe relic he recovered? He decided to destroy it. Couldn't so he comissioned for a binder from an alchemist. Stuck it to the bottom of a merchant ship. Got information about it's route. Gave the information to pirates with the pay being to let him ride it. Waited for them to pilage it to make sure they didn't find it. Paid them to sink the ship, and bring him back to port. Now the relic is still glued to the bottom of the ship, and drifting indefinitely miles below the surface. Where the water would kill a man by crushing him. So when he told his mistress the report. He merely got hit with a heart breaking melodramatic "Good enough." The things he'd do to please her... but at least the bit with the pirates gave "The Displacer Thief" more weight in the underworld. The name is starting to reach the point of being revered by low-level thieving crews and gangs, and even honored by professionals crews and guilds. Annnnnd for some reason marked by assassins.

And now he’s going through this? Heck she made him pay for that stupid bird thing’s information! The same information she got! Talk about being secretive... he had to locate the bird himself!

Neshar sighed… his thoughts continuing to wonder. He was covered in some tattered traveling robes he had purchased off of a wandering vagabond a kilometer or so out of town. He was seated on the ground, with his back against a tavern wall. His arms wrapped around his knees, and his head down with the hood up. His keen eyes searching the feet of the wondering life. The loot he had picked up from the highway men were already sold. And he was fortunate that they managed to rob a merchant or something. Salts, spices and silk can make a pretty hefty profit if you know your way around the market.

“From a thief… to a impromptu source hunter just like that. Alright… where to begin. That… must have been the strong monster that Nevran was talking about,” The feline sighed softly to himself. “Looked like an axehound. Too big though. And some heavy differences. But… it’s too big to stay in the woods. It’s an apex predator, and too large for small things to feed it. So it’s drawn to something. Heavy too, able to knock over trees with no effort. Damaged trees are limited, so it’s hiding out somewhere. A dungeon or a cave. I’ll either need some history, legends, or someone who knows the area. Hunters or kids if this town let them run around.”
 His eyes sifted through the many wondering shoes. “Everyone’s either barefooted, or wearing sandals or… basic shoes. None of these are travelers. Shoes are all dirty… so I’m in the lower class district. It’s a start. It’ll mean I’ll find stories or hunters.”

But then his eyes shifted upwards. Noticing the bounty with a heafty price. “Looks like I won’t have to worry about that group then. They were just mercenaries looking for a quick buck. Price is high. Offering 10 acres of land, so he must be the lord. I’ll have to pay his house a visit then. Might have some useful information.”

He leaned back slowly. Now keeping his head down. "Hmm... that otter though..." He danced around in his memory. The otter was... well flamboyantly dressed if anything. Either he was higher class, or he came a LOOONG ways just for some coin. A trip too costly for a parcel of land or 400 silver coins.

[Eden-H]

Reaching up and removing the cloth that typically obscured his face, he carefully tucked it into one of his pockets as he listened to Mort talk. The idea of being paid for larger bounties thanks to more substantial groups that worked well together was not necessarily appealing to him, primarily when it came to being given currency in exchange for services rendered. While he may not be a fan of people in general, his attitude towards payment in various currencies was even more dire. He vastly preferred an equal trade, or at the very least what the person who placed the bounty in the first place could afford to give. After all, he would take a handful of herbs and useful information over coin any day, though he also understood he was likely only one of a few people who shared this sentiment. Perhaps it was due to his work with the spirits and their realm, making him shy away from the trappings of man even if he technically was one. He shook his head.

"If you consider a universal truth generous, I worry for you." This statement was followed by a low chuckle and dip of the head, his muzzle creasing into a grin that decided to take permanent residence for the time being. "If I have learned anything from my interactions with them, it is that perception changes everything."

Tugging on the remainder of his gauntlets, he let his fingers idly play across the engraved metal. "Which I assume requires a bit of explanation," he laughed. "I mean to say that what one person may consider... let us say unholy, another could see as benevolent. The being I summoned from the Shift earlier to aid our hunter? Those who have interacted with her prior thought she was a demonic creature meant for war. Because of this idea they held, she changed to become what they perceived her to be and nearly killed for their cause. Yet when I summoned her, she was careful, cautious and generous with her energy. She did everything she could to heal our hunter."

Turning his gaze from Mort to the sky, he shrugged slightly. "I understand this is not remotely a universal law. However, even with my own sordid history and prior misconceptions when it came to spirits, I came to realize that how we label them changes everything. A being of pure love could easily turn to one of hatred or vice versa, just as any other person in this world can, albeit instantaneous in some cases rather than over time. Thus I have chosen to see entities outside of this specific realm simply as spirits. To call them otherwise is a disservice to who they are, though if they wish to be referred to as a demon of pride, so be it. I can also readily recognize that my thoughts on the matter differs from the majority and will likely get me killed."

Nibbling on his lower lip, he could not decide if he had said too much. As though to follow this thought and change tact, he suddenly responded to Mort's commentary on his past. "A collector and not of the Ereworld." He cocked his head to the right. "While I will not pry further, thank you for sating my curiosity."

[Cyril]

The jackal's ears twitched as Namael spoke. As per normal, he waited for a bit for everyone to finish before he spoke. He kept the back of the train; yet looked to Namael with his eyes slightly narrowed. Not quite in a malevolent manner, although more focused upon the dark figure.

"Well, if such a risk is existent.." He smirked, toying with his own beads in his hands. "Why not let me heal over the wounds; from now on. Surely such a request drained quite an unnecessary amount from you, my friend.." He chuckled, letting his gaze shift to the other members of the party. "All we need is you to keep killing, and I can heal over any petty scratch or severe lacerations you can manage to get.. As long as you don't die on me." His tone was slightly condescending and a bit menacing, although honest none the less. "My skills are mainly in healing, that's what I've previously excelled in. Restraints and shields are, as we've seen, rather unrefined compared to what I know I can do for wounds."

As they approached the town, Camille hummed to himself between conversation. He hadn't really known about the cash reward, and had no real need for it. In fact, the most he'd really left the court for had been to further his abilities, and to get the life force required to do so. While hanging around this group, he was growing already from the first day.. And as long as they tackled more entities, he'd have all the life he needed at his dispense, without having to force anymore death himself.

The jackal held his trademark smirk as they walked, although quietly as his own mind wandered. Even as the group's outlier, he held more power than he had held in the courts. Had it not been for his personality, he couldnt help but feel that he'd be much more powerful as a mage. Ambition was filling his mind, although frustration at the natural terms of his magic began to arise within his mind.

[Xavier Akafur]

"That's quite a claim." Xavier replied to the other hybrid, raising a brow. "Few can claim to be masterful of any kind of magic, because magic is chaotic by definition." He quipped, looking at the mage for some type of clarification or explanation as to HOW exactly he had gotten to be such a potent spellcaster.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt your skills, I've seen you fight." He added, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a smirk. "But mastery over magic may be a bit lofty of a claim."

He was facing Drake, but the fox-coon might notice that one of Xavier's ears was tilted slightly away from him, keeping tabs on what the others were saying. Quite a promising group of individuals, but the otter-wolf was already detecting the hints of friction. That was to be expected, it was not often such powerful individuals gathered together, and people with power were often heavily entrenched in their morals and personal convictions. Empathy typically took sidebar. With that thought in mind, Xavier bit his tongue when he would have otherwise attempted to diffuse the situation, knowing he had no authority over these men.

The town became visible in the distance as they walked, not having traveled terribly far to begin with, it stood to reason the return trip would be equally as quick. He did speak up then, to the group as a whole.

"So I gather most of us don't mind continuing to work together for the time being?" He paused in case anyone wished to disagree, then smiled warmly. "Good, I rather like you lot. I'm staying in the tavern tonight, so why don't we all meet up there to discuss our next course of action. I think we've all had quite enough action for today..." He trailed off, chuckled to himself and turned back to Drake.

"By the way, was there something you wanted to ask me?"

[Goblin Cat 😸]

 “Well, I like your point of view, I suppose, but there's no changing what I am.” The bully shook his head. “Even if you call me a spirit, there's no use hiding my nature, and it's not so much pride as it is acceptance. I've come to accept what I am instead of pretending.” His voice was gruff, but not unwelcoming – it was just simply the subject at hand that made him feel a little defensive, even when others intended well. His tail began to whip accordingly before settling to curling around his own waist to stay put and he adjusted the head in his arm, averting his eyes to their surroundings, as if he expected another hound to jump from the brush. “I'd rather someone think like you before they go around assuming, I guess.” Though, again, his tone seemed rather unsure.

 
By the time the town came into view, Mort had taken the liberty of moving toward the front of the group, still holding that head proudly despite the gore he was covered in. At Xavier's questions, he merely glanced around the group to gauge reactions before he spoke. He could decide later, he supposed, as there wasn't much else for him to do aside from wander, and another drink at the tavern seemed right up his alley. Still, there were more important things to attend to, and he took a step forward to address them after Xavier's suggestion“Anyone going to collect with me or are you putting your faith in me to return with your pay?” It wasn't meant to be condescending, though it may have come out sounding that way – if anything he would be surprised that someone was so easily trusting of a stranger.

[Eden-H]

Nemael chuckled at the bulls response and bowed his head, acquiescing to Mort's point. He understood quite well that his view on the matter differed wildly from the majority and even from some of the spirits he had run into, though he also knew better than to assume every being followed the same abstract rules. "My apologies for any offense," he murmured with a slight lilt to his voice, noting the change in Mort's tone. "I did not mean to suggest it was a way of hiding who or what you are."

Considering what to say next, it was then that Camille spoke and all pretense of courtesy fell away. His posture grew rigid with every word uttered and his tail became dangerously still, the bladed tip held low. Perhaps it was how the necromancer managed to sound borderline condescending that allowed the man to worm his way beneath Nemael's skin. Or maybe it was the fact that it seemed as though he purposefully chose his words to sting a persons ego, a feat that he was beginning to feel an ever growing disdain for.

Regardless of what it may be, his jaw audibly popped as his muscles tensed and molars clamped down, barely missing his chipped tongue. He was about to make a scathing remark, one that he would joyfully hiss through his teeth in an ever growing anger, when the realization that they were back in the village suddenly hit. "Spirits prevent me from mauling this man," he ground out in an incredibly low voice.

Trying to bring himself back to a relative calm, he waited for each person to finish speaking before even considering making an attempt to have his voice heard. "After we discuss our next course of action in the tavern, I will be momentarily... absent." Cocking his head to the left, he chose not to elaborate. There was little reason to tell them what he did in his own time, seeing as it would not impact anyone in any conceivably significant way. "As for the reward, feel free to give my cut to the rest or take it yourself; I have no need for it."

[Drakeyboy]

Drake listened to Xavier he understood what he was saying but didn't comment. There wasn't anything obvious on him to say how good he was besides the guild cowl and the master's tome he carried which he used to craft spells. "I guess I can understand why you don't think so. But i can confidently say that i have mastered what i do know. That sound good to you?" He said.

But Xavier spoke to the group and not him. And when he spoke Drake gat his awnser. Once that was all over and Xavier faced Drake he simply said. "You kinda already answered my question."

He then heard Mort call out for people to collect the reward. "Wait for me Mort." He said as he followed the bully. The only reason why he needed the coin was so he could rest considerably tonight.

[Xavier Akafur]

Xavier simply smiled at the other hybrid when he replied, and watched him for a moment as he moved over to where Mort was standing. The otter-wolf briefly considered joining them, but then brushed off the notion with a wave of his paw. "I'll be staying here I think, I trust you to return with the coin." He spoke up, turning to regard Camille and Nemael with maybe a hint more than a casual glance. What he failed to mention was that he also did not particularly need the coin, but he was not so wealthy as to forfeit his share entirely. He had only brought some traveling money with himself, so if they required any supplies further down the road, the silver would certainly come in handy.

"As for you two, if you're not going to accompany our friend here-" He said, inclining his head towards the bully. "-then I would ask that you come with me to the tavern. I need, a drink, and I would greatly appreciate being able to recover the use of my arm." he looked down at himself, still soaking in drying blood and with his arm still in the sling made by his overcoat. Surprisingly, without the colorful garment, he was actually rather plain-looking. His bare fur was a simple milk-chocolate brown where it wasn't darkened by blood splatter, making the previously bright-colored male appear somewhat plain. His hair was another matter, but without the contrast to the blue of his coat it seemed far more mundane of a thing.

"If neither of you have any energy left then I can certainly wait a day or so.... I doubt any healers in this little town could match up." Sure, he could heal himself, but with a wound that severe it would take weeks of time that he didn't have, and drain large portions of his strength in the process. Xavier's supportive magic was admittedly very shoddy for healing, meant more to be used as a strengthening and shielding power. Plus, of the two of his magics, that was the newer. Thus his skill in using it was far less refined.

[Cyril]

"Keep the cash." He spoke towards Mort.. The jackal smirking to himself as Namael announced his planned absence.. What a shame. A flick of the tail as his eyes paced around the area around him mischievously. "Depending on how many are in the pub, I should be able to tend to your wound just fine." He tilted his head as he looked at Xavier for the first time. Well, the first that wasn't just a slight glance. The only one there dressed in a manner similar to his, although Xavier's was much more flamboyant and noticeable; with the coat on. Without it, Camille now took that reward to himself.. Even with the dark colorations.

He didn't say another word to Namael or Mort, figuring that he'd caused enough trouble with the group to satisfy himself for a bit. His intentions weren't exactly to start trouble, but the jackal just had a tendency of making it. His piercing gaze fell quickly upon the Hybrid's wound. A slight hum from Camille as he then pocketed his hands and watched the village around him. The people nearby made him flourish with an amount of energy he wasn't used to.

Having the well of the beasts' life force combined with the access of links around him made the jackal feel as if he was on a heavy upper. Due to the severity of Xavier's wound, he'd lose quite a bit of the surplus energy healing it, although the jackal wasn't fully aware of this yet. Riding his buzz in pure enjoyment, now, he was left with an idle smirk.

[tangletail]

The feline stalked through the interior of the village lord’s home. Sure, there was still plenty of daylight availible outside. But most importantly, the guards were more or less careless about what they were doing. It’d take a pretty ballsy thief to try and commit a heist in broad daylight. Or… a particularly smart one.

The feline had shifted between rooms and hallways. Ducking beneath tables, behind furniture, and finally wondering about in the rafters. He easily avoided the occasional patrolling guard, and the more so common servant. But… these little hindrances did give Neshar quite a bit of information. After noticing some strange behaviors in the way they cleaned, he began to slowly tail each and everyone of them. Monitoring their every move.

“There are some places no one’s allowed to enter it seems….” The feline thought to himself. He approached a door that a servant had ignored, and slowly teased it’s handle. Locked. It was not a problem however, just a minor set back. The feline already had pulled out his picks and had the door open in a mere heartbeat. He quickly slipped inside, and softly closed the door behind himself. His fingers quickly re-locked the door from the other side before he finally turned around to get a look at the room he was in.

The room was a study. But it was in no way a testament to a scholars study. A typical one for a low class lord. Books. Shelves. A missing fireplace. But… there were a few peculiar details about it. Strange ones that had a tell tale story about what was possibly happening in the room. And the nature of the lord that the village's civilians probably never saw.

The thief slowly trailed through the room. His eyes drifting down to a few books and sheets of paper. noting how clean they were. But when his eyes drifted in other places… he took note of the dust. Some of it had built up… and a number of areas had been disturbed before.

“Heh... Yeeaah… too lazy to clean up after himself…” he murmured softly to himself. His eyes slowly dipping down to the foot prints on the floor. “Keeps the servants out though. He must have something to hide.” His eyes soon shifted to some scuffs on the ground near a bookshelf. The dust was pushed to the side in a variety of ways. And from the looks of it… someone had been crouching each time he visited… symbolized by odd oblong patches of cleared dust.

“Paranoid… “ Neshar hummed to himself quietly, lowering himself into a crouch. His eyes finding most disturbed areas on the shelf. It was the lowest portion of the shelf. Connected directly to the baseboards used to help support it. The board was covered in flakes of dust that had been disturbed by repeated rubbing. All along the board it seems. None of them looked as if he was feeling for something specific. Annd… the side boards also seemed to have a number of light scratches that caught in the light.

Neshar sighed and shook his head. He lifted against the bottom shelf, and quickly discovered that it came right up. “Paranoia’s good if you got something to hide. But a huge problem when it’s a physical secret… what are you hiding…”

[Eden-H]

(Okay, so, I did not remotely expect Nemael to respond so negatively to your character from only a few interactions, Cyril! However, I did try to make it known as to why he is having such a strong reaction and why he is pissing him off from the get-go, so I apologize if that was rambled on for a bit too long. I'm also exhausted, so that could possibly explain why it may be longer than necessary, ahahhh... ah. Farore).



Nemael failed to hide the scowl that grew as Camille spoke once more, his words directed toward Xavier when the curious hybrid had announced his need for healing. The distaste he felt was growing ever steadily and he was beginning to understand the exact reasons as to why.

It was not that the man seemed to prod at Nemael's weaker points or even the fact he seemed rather dismissive of certain strengths. It all boiled down to how cock-sure he was and how desperately Nemael wanted to put him in his place. Years of experiencing men with his attitude on the road that eventually got themselves killed was certainly one, but it was relatively minor at best. The main irritant was that he had lived in a city where all Kuar acted in a similar manner towards those who were not of their race, waxing his tolerance into a new level of thin.

He bit his tongue hard enough to draw cobalt-colored blood that stained the fur just at the inner edge of his muzzle. "Let us go and speak of this plan," he hissed. Lifting a hand and wiping away the minuscule amount that had been drawn from his mouth, he abruptly turned away from Camille and Xavier and marched his way to the tavern. He knew he would need to learn to control his temper around men like the necromancer.  However, this issue was tempted by a distinct bias: Having interacted almost solely with spirits of the Shift and Dragonhawk after his run-ins with aforementioned adventurers and tasteless Kuar, he was not entirely sure how best to deal with the situation.

Throw him into the depths of hell and he would calmly make his way out with whatever was at his disposal. Pit him against a man that was cock and bull, with some capability to back up their testing words? He would sooner feed them to a ravenous hyena rather than even consider the possibility they may be right. Which, he had to admit, was already a sorely tempting idea. At the same time, Nemael knew he needed to get over his immediate prejudice. Just because the necromancer presented himself in a similar light to the others, it did not mean he was necessarily exactly like them.

Or, rather, that was what he optimistically prayed was true. He also desperately wished he did not respond to arrogance in such a negative manner, wanting to say it was a pet peeve when it was actually something he never had a single good experience with. Too many dead or irrevocably injured to allow him to put up with it.

Storming up to the taverns doors, he pushed his way inside and immediately walked up to the bar and its tender. Peering at the woman behind the counter, he said nothing and instead took a seat, waiting for Xavier and Camille to eventually follow. He had no idea whether or not the necromancer would choose to heal him outside or if he would wait for them to be in a more private area and he did not necessarily mind which path he took. He would simply idle by until the time came for discussion, choosing not to order a drink until they both arrived.