The stale air of the catacombs hung heavy with humidity and the putrid stench of mould. The occasional lantern threw long shadows on the cobblestone walls, doing little to actually alleviate the darkness and only accentuating the atmosphere of dread ever so familiar to resting places of the dead. Silence stood hand in hand with shadows, only seldom broken by the squeak of a rat or the ringing of a water drop dripping off the ceiling. Alas something yet did live in this place. A series of shuffling steps echoed through the empty corridors as two hooded figures, covered head to toe in black robes rounded a corner and headed for the heavy oaken doors hidden in the twilight. One of the figures whispered something to the other in a hushed foreign tongue, and both placed their hands on unmarked stones either side of the doorway. A familiar mechanical click rang through the catacombs and with the squeal of rusty iron the heavy doors slid open, letting the two pass.

A pit of blue fire was the only source of light in the vast inner chamber. The two newly arrived were quickly lost amongst the dozens of identical black robes that surrounded the pit in neat lines. A low chant sung in a hundred voices filled the air, as all attendees bowed their heads towards the flame. As one’s eye got adjusted to the low lights, an altar could be seen at the centre of the pit, ornate in its design. A vast amount of metalwork weaved in intricate and ever so fine ways with a multitude of shining crystals covered it on all four sides along with a multitude of markings in unfamiliar script. It would almost be beautiful to a craftsman’s eyes, were it not for the morbid display that rested atop it. An odd several dozen long, sword like crystals protruded from the top of the altar and on them, impaled and spread out like a frog in a children’s classroom, was the wrapped body of a man. Despite the many layers of bandages that covered it – one could still see the disfigurement of the man’s head, almost as if it was not real. One could only wonder as to the true nature of the cadaver, for it was very much too fresh to be one of the original ‘residents’ of these catacombs.

The blue flames parted, allowing for a pathway to the altar to form, and a figure approached the gruesome effigy. The ornate gold filigree on the robes of pale purple separated this figure from the faceless rest. Hushing the long chat by raising her hands in the air, the figure spoke out in a decidedly feminine voice.

“Alas, my sisters, the time has come! For two long years we toiled - waiting, plotting, and planning… all for this moment. All the while the destroyer weaved his plot to end all that we hold dear. Hidden behind his curse, the branded man was beyond our reach! But no more! Tonight this child, who served us with faith and reverence, cut down in his youth for naught but the amusement of the dead, shall return to this world and fulfil our purpose!” The sea of robes exploded in a cheer as the words were spoken, their excited voices giving most if not all of them as women. “Take this power child, the one we gathered through this time. Take this deal and these souls we’ve paid in toll! Rise and seek out the one who had cheated death! Seek him out and drag him back to Hell where he belongs! Azer’nafath un cirand im kara! Tor f’al myr naturnel am Lerim in ke’storenath! RISE!”

As the words of ancient tongue were spoken, the mechanism on of the altar began to writhe as if alive. One by one each of the glowing crystals flashed in brilliant colour and then went dull, their very light siphoned out through the long crystal blades right into the body. Under the musty old bandages the long dead flesh began to slither as bones and sinews formed again. A dust filled breath escaped the cadaver’s mouth, followed by another and yet another still… before turning to screams as the vocal chords regained their form. The attendees roared their cheers in positive madness at the sight, as one by one the bandages on the man’s body began to snap under the newfound muscle. A gust of wind rushed through the chamber and doused the blue flame, letting complete darkness fall. And in that darkness a deafening crack rang out – the sound of crystals that once pinned the dead man down snapping.

---

“Oi, you shitheads are gods damn late!” Arbos barked at the four men dressed in sharp silver suits who just exited the alley. “Where’s Alistair? Don’t tell me that old moron got lost again!”
The gangster foursome shared a few uncomfortable looks then shrugged apologetically. Arbos shook his head at the response and pointed at the big building behind him.

“Alright you no-name assholes, that’s where marshals keep our boy. Make sure no one gets in or out – Alistair will do the head-crackin’ when he gets here. Now scram!” The spectre waved his hand, and with nary a gust of wind, the four men were gone. For what it’s worth even flunkies took well to Nullomancy after a while, he thought to himself. Now the only question that remained was where his right hand sodded off to.

Thankfully not three minutes later the old spectre felt someone approaching, and moments later Alistair jumped off the nearby skyscraper, landing silently on one knee right before him. He was a man in his mid-forties, with short ashen hair, mostly hidden under a silver fedora. His pin-striped gunmetal grey suit was visibly more expensive that those of the other four, and remained absolutely immaculate despite the fact its wearer just jumped down from a nine hundred feet tall building to hard granite road. Arbos raised an eyebrow and humphed approvingly – looks like the man finally got a firm grasp on using centrifugal force control. Not bad at all, given he’s only had it a couple weeks.
“Apologies M’Lord!” Alistair panted. “It’s harder to find my way in the night than I thought – had to take to the rooftops.”
“Hmm… You should be getting used to the city’s curse by now kiddo.”
“Sorry, sir, it seems I still lack training.”
“Lack training my ass, little over a year and you could already give those damn apprentices of mine a run for their money, you old bastard.” Arbos thought to himself and slowly floated over to the building he pointed out earlier. It was an all too familiar manufactory, identical to dozens of others scattered around the outskirts of the city, wide and stocky with a roof lined in chimneys and old granite walls lined covered in red brick patches where the old stone was blown away by an occasional production accident.

“Alright, time to go in. Those unimaginative twits from the marshalcy are keeping our messenger from the outside in here. Save the kid, turn them to chowder. Any questions?”
“Uhm,” Alistair scratched his head, “If I may, what if they escape out the back sir? It’s not exactly an ideal situation for a single man.”
“Leave the thinking to me, I’m generally better at it.” Arbos snorted. “I’ve already got the Dwight morons covering the exits. Make it quick and quiet, don’t want to attract any attention from the outskirts!”

Alistair nodded his acknowledgement and quickly made his way towards the building, a living sheet of metal appearing over his face, seemingly devoid of any openings. Taking a deep breath he wound his arm up and took a massive swing at the hard granite wall. At the same time an ungodly amount of force amplified by the nullomancer’s power crashed into it as well, causing a massive four meter wide section to be blown out. Screams echoed from the inside of the manufactory as the sharp bits of granite shredded everything they came across. Alistrair straightened out and stepped right in, paying no attention to the dust in the air – his control zone seeing all even when his eyes couldn’t. Seems it was high security storage facility – hard reinforced walls divided the massive warehouse into smaller secure rooms on each side, and a large metal safe door could be seen at the other end of it. Guard catwalks lined the building on each side with crossings every thirty meters, all manned by soldiers. At a glance Alistair counted some forty guards and a half dozen marshals still standing as well. A crystal tipped arrow flew right at him from the back, bouncing off his suit with a metal chink and exploding somewhere outside the building. It was time to have some fun.

Alistair went to a half crouch and then dashed in – the forces under his control carrying him with enough speed to blow away the dust. The first guard hadn’t even finished lifting his crystal halberd, when the enforcer’s gloved fist connected with his face – the fragile bone and flesh giving way to his living steel and exploding in a shower of red mist. Still carried by the motion Alistair twisted around and brought his right hand to the left shoulder, as hundreds of thin metal spikes appeared in the air in front of him. Locking eyes on the six guards that were taking aim at him from the catwalk, he thrust his arm out in a sharp motion, imbuing the spikes with force and sending them flying fast enough to rip not only through the soldier but through the wall behind them. Seven down – shit ton more to go.

“All that enters a nullomancer’s zone shall be known to him” The old lesson from Arbos rang in Alistair’s mind, as he felt a presence enter his zone from behind. Thanking the gods he focused his training on expanding his control to full three meters, Alistair had just barely enough time to duck and avoid a marshal’s staff. The nullomantic weapon collided with the reinforced wall of one of the rooms, releasing the impact charge imbued in it and blowing the steel and concrete away. Getting hit by that would be bad. The marshal, finding himself wide open began pulling back – using magnetism to attract himself to an iron anchor on the other side of the room, and creating an iron wall in front to block the enforcer. But Al was faster. Propelling himself forward, he channelled pure heat into the living steel of his glove making it glow white with heat and punched out straight through the iron wall. The softer metal turned to vapour from the immense heat, letting Alistair’s hand to pass through and connect with the marshal, boiling him from inside out. Alas two more marshals were on top of him before he could recover, flying in with their staves raised – this time he didn’t have time to dodge.

“Sod off!” Alistair roared and instead clapped his hands together. The volume of a foghorn and the mind altering properties of a siren’s call, mixed into the clap made the sound of it wash over everyone in the building heavily, filling them with intense desire to back off. The marshals, overcome with the sound broke off their swings and immediately pulled themselves back… which is exactly what Alistair wanted. With their one meter zones so much smaller than his, they were entirely within his control without ever realizing it. As the two flung themselves back Alistair formed two spiked iron walls on the edges of his zone – allowing the marshal’s own magnetism to drive them right onto the spikes.

By this point dozens of explosive arrows were already being fired at him so Alistair pulled back to the entrance and released his air charges. Thinning them out and spreading them throughout the building he ‘infected’ the standing air within the building and took control of it. Clasping his fist tight he hardened all of the air for a moment – stopping the arrows mid-flight, and then with a thrust of his hand sent them all flying back towards the soldiers. Dozens of explosions thundered throughout the warehouse, engulfing everything in flames and killing most of the normal soldiers outright.

“Oi oi, don’t burn the building down. Our boy is still there.” Arbos spoke out nonchalantly, still hanging out in the air by the entrance. Alistair only grunted in response. At the same time the captain of the marshals stationed here flew out of the smoke. With all the explosions the enforcer was a bit too slow in seeing the attack coming, and couldn’t dodge in time. Seems at least the captain was worth his salt, as his sword was imbued with enough force to cut through Alistair’s suit and nearly split the man in half. Al screamed out in pain and rage as his suit enveloped the captain’s sword trapping it and a small empty crystal dropped into his hand from the sleeve. A blue light of nullomancy surrounded the crystal, anchoring to it, and then with all the force he still had stored Alistair pushed it into the captain’s chest, sending the man flying backwards into the middle of the warehouse.

“Chill out you son of a bitch.” Alistair grunted through gritted teeth and with a clicked of the fingers released the anchored charge. A massive explosion of pure frost erupted from the empty crystal, turning everything within twenty meters to ice and putting out the flames, doubly so for the marshal-captain. The wound was grievous, nearly separating his left shoulder from Alistair’s body, and he could feel his life slipping away. So with the one last deep breath he straightened out and released the charge of the only void-embedded crystal he had, making it glow visibly in his forehead even through the metal mask. Immediately the split flesh and bone writhed and began to join back together, while blood that was not yet spilled on the ground reversed its flow and returned to the body. Whatever was spilled was quickly replaced through saltwater and protein charges. Within seconds Alistair was back in top shape, as if nothing ever happened. He glanced over; counting two more marshals and a half dozen soldiers amongst the survivors and grit his teeth.

“Oh that’s it. I’ve had it with you fools!” he roared out and brought his right hand to his forehead. The ground around him started to shake as air filled with electricity. The ominous rumble resounded throughout the building and the entire city block it stood on, making the last few survivors start scampering for cover – even the stupidest of men knew that whatever was coming would be bad. And indeed it was. As the very primordial forces of nature were summoned, Alistair threw his hand out and released the full power of pure Lightning. Made twice as powerful through nullomancy, the pure force of it flooded every inch of the building, blinding, deafening, electrocuting and incinerating everyone it came in touch. The stone walls cracked and the windows shattered, as one of the deadliest avatars of nature’s wrath ran wild in the confined space. And when the light and dust settled, none were left alive between Alistair and the safe door at the other end.

“So… which part of the Quick and Quiet was left ambiguous exactly?” Arbos floated in with a dry smirk on his face.
“Sorry sir, I got careless.” Alistair rubbed his shoulder.
“Damn straight you did, having to use a void shard against these flunkies! We’ll need to work on your zone control more. Now, open up that door.”
“Yes’sir!”
Alistair half bowed to the spectre and moved to the safe door, placing one hand on it. Next moment the sleeve of his suit writhed and separated into a million tiny pieces, each with a shining edge of pure diamond. The blades began to circle Alistair’s arm and like a twister of pure death ripped into the steel in a shower of sparks. Within seconds the meter thick steel door was reduced to a pile of smoking red hot shavings on the floor, as Alistair’s ‘swarm’ consumed it. As the remains of the door fell away they revealed two visibly terrified guards, holding halberds to the throat of a young man no more than seventeen years of age, who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

“N-Not one s-s-step closer!” One of the guards shouted out in a shaking voice. “Or w-we will kill t-t-this kid!”

Alistair immediately stepped back, prompting Arbos to roll his eyes. “Oh for the love of… SIT DOWN.” The spectre’s voice boomed throughout the building with incomparable power, and before anyone realized what had happened both the guards and Alistair found themselves on the ground, sitting obediently. “You two, useless shits! Unless you want to know what it feels like to have two million diamond tipped tungsten bits eating into your body, I suggest you get. The. Fuck. Out. NOW.” He turned to the guards. Somewhere between hearing the commotion outside, realizing their allies were ashes and being confronted by a motherfucking ghost, the guards must have decided they really were not paid enough for this shit, as they immediately dropped their weapons and ran away, leaving Alistair and Arbos alone with the young man.

“Alright, kid, tell us what message you brought” Alistair spoke firmly as he cut the kid’s restraints.
“A-Ah, of cou’se m’lord! T’seems tha the apprenmices o’ our lord be sendin’ theirs own in soon.” The kid spoke quickly, mumbling and slurring his words thanks in no small part to his swollen lips. “They’s garedd up on se inn outta town righ’s no’. S’me girl from Lord Ashur ha’ arred first s’me three days ba’. The las one avved this morn’ m’lord. Five in all. They’d be en’ing Sayrn tomo’s non, m’lord, meeting you at the central plaza.”

Arbos blinked a few times then turned to Alistair. “Did you get a single word of what this moron just said?”
Alistair coughed. “Ahem, yes. Seems the lieutenants found more nullomancers and sent them here to train under you, sir. They’ve gathered at the rebel controlled inn right beyond the blockade, earliest arrival being the apprentice of Master Ashur, three days ago. The last of them arrived this morning, and they will be snuck into town tomorrow at noon, set to meet us in the central plaza.”
Arbos turned to the kid. “Now was THAT so hard to say? Fucking gods son you’re bloody useless as a messenger you moron! Now scram, the four stooges outside will get you to the bar where Maggie will patch your inbred ass up. Go!” With the bark from the spectre the kid jumped up and wobbled out of the ruined building.

“M’Lord, this new batch of trainees… won’t this ruin our plan?” Alistair asked cautiously.
“Hmm? Ah, no. In fact this might be for the best. Listen up, diamond-boy, I’ve got a new mission for you.” Arbos stroked his chin thoughtfully and then turned to Al, speaking in a hushed tone. “I’m gonna meet these newbies and see what they’re good for, and in three days we’re going to bust out of the City of Dust. I’ll be taking all our enforcers with me to do so. Now, while we’re causing a ruckus at the blockade, I want You and Naya to get yourselves to the House of Venoire estate, you dig?”
Alistair’s face grew visibly pale. “The Kings of Zengar… But what of our agreement with th-“

“I give no fucks about the agreement anymore.” Arbos spat. “Between the goings on in the Imperial City, and that idiot upstart causing ruckus in Alros, I’ve had just about enough of the fat pigs of Venoire. Two years I’ve danced around them… no more. Time for them to learn what it’s like to mess with the King of Thieves. While the newbies and I are causing a ruckus breaking out – you and the thunderpussy will infiltrate the Venoire Estate, get me the location of Mak’Tu, and leave no traces that anyone was EVER alive in that place, you understand? Between the selkie’s shamanisms and your swarm’s utility for torture I have faith you’ll get me the information I need. The two of you are plenty strong enough to break out by yourself and catch up with us later on. Do you understand your Mission, my right hand?”

Alistair opened his mouth for a moment then closed it and got down on one knee, bowing his head deeply. “It honours me to no end to have a role this vital, My Lord. By all the gods of the Forbidden Isles – it shall be done!”

---

At noon of the next day Arbos, possessing the body of an old man as he usually did during daytime, was standing beside the statue of the Emperor, in the very middle of the Central Square of Sayrn. Two men in silver suits stood silently at either side of him scanning the crowd with their eyes, waiting patiently for the arrival of the new nullomancers.

It was the night before Arda began her journey to Sayrn, she met with some would-be rebels that Kron had told her about. They pack supplies and equipment onto some camels before setting off. For the past few weeks of their travel through the hot sand dunes, the rebels had asked her questions about herself, which she did not answer. Often they'd shoot lecherous looks at her since pale skin wasn't common in these parts and she was pretty attractive too, but they didn't try anything because they knew who she was. The Iron Maiden. Known in Alros as some phantom woman who dispatches of those who try to apprehend or disturb her. Some people had even used her name as a way to scare little children to keep them out of the alleyways.

The day before making it to Sayrn, they had told Arda that she would be posing as a greenhorn merchant, giving her the necessary documents to say that she was. Upon reaching the gate the next morning, as she was told, they were stopped by the guardsman to check their documents. "Sooo.. You're Amy Sinor. Hailing from Alros as a trader..?" the guardsman said slowly as he read the documents. "Yes." She replied simply. The guardsman gave her a scrutinizing look before asking another question, "What wares are you trading?", he gestured to the rather large supply bag on her camel. "Iron Null Crystals." She replied rather blank tone. The guard briefly checked the document again, handing it back to her as one of the other guards confirmed the contents of the bag. "Alright. You can go through." He said with a nod. She gave him a short nod in return, before adjusting her red scarf over her nose and mouth.

As the rebels guided Arda through Sayrn, they handed a note to her after reaching the inn. 'Meet at the Statue of the Emperor in the Central Square at noon.' the note said in rather crude handwriting. When she had looked back up from the note, the 'merchants' had already moved away through the crowd. Meet who?

---

Arda explored the city until noon, walking among the streets, alleyways and rooftops. This place was rather dull. Much like Alros, however she noticed many sick people within the alleys, must be the plague that she'd heard of when travelling here. Best not to stay around there for too long. Despite that, she felt a little at home in Sayrn. Just before noon, she sat on the rooftop of a shop which faced the Central Square, she noticed an old man and two men in silver suits standing beside the statue. The sight of them was rather contrasting with the rest of the people that lived in this city. She hopped off the roof, her feet displacing the dust on the stone ground as she landed. Some passerby's gave her a strange look before continuing on their way. Arda adjusted her scarf again as she walked toward the three men. She stopped a few meters away from them, scanning over them with her usual blank gaze. It had a hint of curiosity to it.

She wondered if she was meant to meet these three at the statue or meet someone else. The note had too little detail for her to know. So she decided to lean on the statue until someone came to meet her, but as she went to brush past the men, she felt something powerful, something like a spark in her mind. It came from the old man? She stopped in her tracks, stepping back slightly, her gaze staying on the old man. She stared at him in relative silence as she moved back a little more. This must be him. She thought.

It felt more like a desert than a city – desolate, dusty and dirty. Pulling her headscarf more tightly across her face, Thea stood braced against the side of the inn trying to stay out of the brunt of the wind. Not for the first time since beginning her pilgrimage to find the expert nullomancer Arbos she found herself longing for the mountains, the snow, the clean, cold air of Jaw Pass. It was a paradise in comparison to Sayrn, with its poor gathered in alcoves and alleys between the buildings, anything to minimize their intake of the deadly dust. Snowstead might have been a poor village but it had been a better life than these people had.

She had been lucky to find the disciple bringing a fresh crop of trainees to learn from the master though she had yet to fee truly one of them. Her own story felt so different that she was alienated from those around her. Nullomancy wasn’t a gift; it had cost her entire way of life. Again, not for the first time, her last moments in her village flashed before her eyes. Her mother’s look of betrayal as she held on to her brother – led away by the Xelith soldiers; her grandmother’s blood spilling from the fatal wound that had given Thea her moment, her chance to escape. Clenching her hand into a fist, she felt the ice cooling her skin – the crystals embedded in her waist begging for release. It felt like disloyalty to be so driven in her pursuit to master nullomancy but she learned from the other rebels that there was no better way for her to fight back against the empire.

It seemed to take forever for the others to finally exit the inn; at last they would begin on their final trek to meet the great master. A knot of apprehension grew in her stomach as she fell in line with the others. Olen had told her amazing stories of the King of Thieves, each more impressive and terrifying than the last. He told her was a spectre, little more substantial than a ghost, having lost his body over a hundred years ago. His exploits were a thing of myth and legend though it was impossible to believe that it could all be true. She was nervous at the thought of meeting him but Olen had sworn to her that no one would be able to teach her more.

Their march, though relatively short, felt agonizing. A whirlwind of emotions tore through Thea with every step, enough to the point that her hands were shaking tucked beneath the folds of her robe. She had been waiting for this moment since Olen first mentioned Arbos, but it didn’t still the tremendous racing of her heart, the thrill of fear that they were nearing the great spirit. Anticipation was equal among her thoughts as well and she couldn’t deny the excitement the idea of honing her skills conjured up. Smiling darkly she quickened her pace to keep up.

Whatever she had been expecting though was not what met them. Lining up the novices, their leader bowed deeply to a wisp of an old man. Glancing at her companions in confusion, Thea wasn’t sure what to think. Surely this could not be the great Arbos Xell, scourge of the Xelith Empire, King of Thieves. First of all this person appeared mortal…and ancient. Disappointment washed over her in a crippling wave. She had left everything to come here for tutelage only to be tricked into believing that the answer she sought would be here. Tugging once again on her head scarf, she stared darkly at the old man, waiting for anyone to tell her that this was all a joke…

The big cities had always excited her. The few weeks she had been with Ashur had hardly been enough time to get used to the idea that areas so immensely populated even existed. An entire city made of granite sounded like a it came out of a storybook. She was pretty sure she had read such a tale, meant for young children. A story about a great beastmaster who defeated the evil lord of the granite city. It was a quest given to him by the mighty and benevolent emperor himself. Ultimately he would marry into one of the mightiest noble houses of Xellith and later join the war for Raveros. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that Xellith propaganda was found even in the books meant for the very youngest. These stories always lauded the nobility as the war heroes that built a great empire in which everyone could prosper. One look at a simple Karadun village could tell you of the lies those stories held. The villages worked and bled every day just so the nobles could continue to fatten themselves. Her own village had repeatedly been searched for by the empire for the mischief they caused. Luckily Miviun was truly benevolent and protective of his children. If the empire actually gave a damn, these villages of orphans wouldn't have to exist in the first place. She recalled the day she met Ashur, and how he crushed an entire minor noble house within minutes. Despite the gruesome ways of murder he had used, she grew excited once again just by thinking back. Indeed, if she were to use these powers, nullomancy, she would never use them for the empire.

She looked out of the window again towards the granite city of Sayrn, beset on all sides by the imperial marshals. This inn was just outside of their barricade and had clear view of this incredibly ugly city. He was somewhere in there; Arbos, the king of thieves. What made him the king of thieves anyway? She had heard of his name before, but that was all. The idea that he actually still existed out there was something she hadn´t even considered, since the tales were ancient. Then again, Ashur had told her that he was now a spectre. Technically, spectres could live how long they damn well please, right? Was that right? She actually had no clue.
Selessia rested in bed, staring at the city as she sipped her wine. Yes, wine! She only had the stuf once before. The village was very strict about now allowing any alcohol before the age of seventeen. Not to mention that wine was actually an incredibly rare commodity in the village of children. Sometimes, one of the older children managed steal a bottle. These bottles were usually kept for the holidays, so all older children could have a glass or two together. Yet here the innkeeper had said she could have as much as she wanted. One of the older children, Raes, had once told her about how people will behave strangely if they drink too much wine at once. He said they called it "being drunk". She had yet to see it for herself, but it sounded rather weird and scary. She'd behave herself, only a glass now and then. That was fine, right? She discarded the thought as she finished her glass and prepared for bed, tomorrow would be a big day.

She awoke to the sound of loud knocking on the door of her room. She grumbled as she rose, why did someone bother to wake her? What possible reason would they have? The knocking still continued, seeming near desperate. Selessia half-heartedly called out to the knocker "Whaaaa?" She could hear a loud sigh of relief "Miss Kelrin, it's almost noon. You should head out soon. The rest is waiting for you!" It was the voice of the innkeeper. Ashur had instructed her to use her fake name, Mila Kelrin, everywhere until she reached Arbos. Her mind only half-registered his words. What did she have to do at noon? It took a few more seconds before she finally realised how important today was. "Oh Somna be damned!" She cursed as it hit her. They were to leave in a matter of minutes now. She quickly got her things together and stuffed them in her bag. She nearly tripped several times over her own mess that she had made in the three days she was here. She quickly got herself dressed and stormed out of the room, before heading back in again as she nearly forgot her bag. She rushed on her way down as she met with the rest of the group. Most of them she had seen arrive over the days. She was clearly still half asleep, her bag was stuffed to the brim due to her messy way of packing and she had a severe case of bedhead. She sneezed as she inhaled the dust, now only realizing she had forgotten to outfit herself with a scarf, an error she quickly fixed.

She followed the rest of the group into the city, which truly looked no prettier on the inside than it did on the outside. The rebels knew how to pass the barricade with the least possible commotion. Surely nobody would suspect a ditz that clearly had just woken up to be something of a potential treat. Who knows, maybe she could pretend to the rest that this was part of her act? She didn't actually believe that any of them would be naïve enough to believe that. Every second she would be drawing closer to her teacher's teacher. Ashur had spoken of him with both respect and disgust. Ashur said that he respected the spectre for his skill and knowledge. However, he had also told her that he had never met anyone with a worse attitude. He had described Arbos as arrogant, cruel and perverted. The last one was probably a result of two-hundred years of confinement, he had explained. She had taken his stories with a grain of salt. Could the guy really be that bad?

After a few minutes the group would approach the city's central plaza. Selessia might've described the plaza as relatively pretty, if it weren't for the ugly mug of the emperor tarnishing it with his statue in the very center. What had the city done to deserve such desecration? Wasn't the city ugly enough on its own? Talking about ugly, her eyes fell on a particular old man standing in front of the statue. If the two men accompanying him weren't a dead giveaway that there was more to him than met the eye, then nothing was. But Selessia could sense more. While the rest of the group either stood still or backed off, she approached the men along with the rebel that had been guiding them. The rebel bowed, but Selessia didn't do such a thing. Instead she looked at the old man from top to bottom. "Hmm yep, I sense a spectre! You could've chosen a better vessel though, he smells horribly." She chuckled a bit. Whoever had raised the girl obviously hadn't taught her to respect her elders, or how to properly greet someone for that matter. Well, surely the mighty king of thieves would forgive the girl's impudence, or would he?

The planks of the bench were covered in dust and no amount of wiping would empty the crevices in the wood. The zinc walls that were supposed the railway platforms were inevitably pierced by gigantic holes to let the trains through and as a result everything between them was covered in it.
Lae'naya did not like dust, it was coarse and rough and irritating and it got everywhere. The city was even more unwelcoming to the furrier creatures like her as the powder was a nightmare to get rid of.
She was waiting for a train from Karudun in which a person of interest was said to arrive to that cursed city of Sayrn. A train that was now already running a good fifty minutes late and was putting little effort into pretending to read the news paper she held in front of her when she heard it approach.
The low note of rails vibrating like a tuning grew louder by the second, soon overcome by the buzzing of electric arcs running underneath the train.

The man had been travelling from city to city rather erratically in Karudun for at least months, perhaps years, carrying nothing but a single travel bag. His identity was unknown and he rarely seemed to stay in one place for more than a couple of weeks. Speculations as to his occupation varied between informants. Some conjectured he was a consultant, others that he was a runner for any of the various kinds of institutions that required and could afford the services of such shady characters.

Lae'naya scanned the few dozen passengers climbing out of the cabins. “Cauhri, around six feet, strong, likely wearing a blue justaucorps coat and a dark leather hat”. With everyone's face wrapped in various kinds of head dress, a facial description would not have been much help anyway.
Sure enough though a man of such description came out of that train, a shemagh concealing completely his face.
The man crossed the platforms in the middle of the crowd. She waited for him to pass the doors of the main hall before standing up and walking after him. He didn't interact with anyone before walking out into the streets.
He dashed through the streets with his eyes to the floor and took abrupt turns as if he knew exactly where he was going.
Seeing the man paid no attention to his surroundings, Lae'naya allowed herself to close the distance. She was only a handful of meters behind him when he took a right turn into a dark alley. It was only a second later that she walked around the corner but he had disappeared. Nonetheless she walked a few more steps before hearing the sound of a man clearing his throat behind her.

“Sorry love, I'm sure you're really good at your job but I don't like them hairy. Well... not that hairy anyway.” he said in a cold tone.

“Consultant” is what the informants had come up, but someone more informed and capable of connecting the dots like Arbos would come to an entirely different conclusion. The man's travels coincided with a series of varyingly gruesome murders, or rather assassinations according to him.
The victims were usually shady characters themselves, nobles with unsavoury friends and hobbies and crime lords. The kind of people with enemies.

She turned around to see the man standing only a few feet behind her.
“How did you spot me?”
“You were sitting alone on the platforms holding a newspaper . You know there's a whole room with doors and no dust not ten meters from where you were sitting, right?
The better question is how did you spot me?
I mean '6 feet, strong, blue justaucorps, hat'? What's next? 'May or may not have feet'? I had to buy a justaucorps just for the occasion. They aren't even a thing a thing any more you know, haven't been for thirty years. That's an antique.”
“Why?”
“Call me curious. It's not every day that someone new is looking for me? And usually those who do want me dead.”

“I speak in the name of Arbos Xell.” she said in a very official tone. “He has sent me to recruit you into our organization and make you one of his disciples?”
“Arbos Xell who?”
“Arbos Xell the king of thieves.”
“Oh... that one. Well that explains your impeccable stealth skills. Well you can tell him I'm not interested in classes in snatching purses from old ladies or in seducing them either.” the man said as he turned his back to her. “If you do have business with me you can have your people contact my people once I've done what I have to do.”

“You ARE coming with me.” said Lae'Naya said as she grabbed his arm.

The man turned to face her
“If you don't mind, don't take this personally, but I really do have business to attend to.”
The man winced as she tightened her grip with surprising strength.

“Fair enough” said the man before letting out a sigh.

He grabbed the arm that held his wrist and twisted it. As she let go of his hand she leaped to accompany the movement of her arm and threw a sweeping side at the side of his head which he barely dodged by leaning forward and dragging both of them to the ground.
Rolling back on his feet he found her ready to pounce, barely back on her. He dived straight into her guard and threw a straight punch to her gut. Before his other hand could connect with a second one her knee rose up and hit the back of his elbow in defense before she pivoted her stance to throw a powerful kick to his sternum.
He backed up a couple of feet. As she leaned in for a second kicked he swept her leg up with his own and threw her to the ground.
As he walked up to her, a hand over his stomach he said “Well, that's not it, is i..”. A sweep the ankles sent the back of his head against the pavement.
Before he could gather his wits, she mounted him and started punching away at his head. After a full minute of rolling around and punching each other, he managed to throw her to the side against a wall after which he put all his strength in a knee strike to her gut.

Winded and dazed, he got up on his knee. “How.. how about you show me what this is actually about... You don't seem too worried.”

She sat up and grabbed his wrist. Suddenly a jolt of pain went though his body. Lighting arcs jumped between his fingers and all the muscles in his body tensed for a second before letting go.
He flaskly feel to the ground.
Getting back up, she pulled a piece of rope from a pocket and tied his wrists before dragging his body to a car that had stopped at the entrance of the dark alley.

He had completely lost consciousness for nearly half an hour. Slowly waking up, unable to move or open his eyes, the rocking of the carriage and soft clop of the horse's hooves somewhat eased the agonizing headache he suffered. He was half asleep for some time before slowly coming back to his senses.
In front of him staring at him was the strange cat woman, her face now uncovered.
“So.... what is your name?” he mumbled, resigned.
“Lae'naya”
“There's no family name attached to that?”
“Lae'naya” she repeated, shrugging. “Yours?”
The conversation felt numb and monotone.
“You can call me Corvo.”
She raised an eyebrow as to return his previous question.
“That is not your name I take it.”
“It's the only name I care to wear at the moment. My real name is not a convenient one to bear.”
“So a common criminal running from the law...”
“No... maybe... think of it what you will.... So what does your organization do exactly.”
“We're looking for people... with certain talents.”
“To what end?”
“For something bigger than either of us.”
“I'm already set in that department. I don't need to get involved in anyone else's squabbles.”
She leaned in with a more solemn tone said :
“Whatever you've been doing, whatever you think is important doesn't matter. What we are doing bears no equal in importance or urgency.”
“So I just have to take you to your word then.”

---

A man sits on a lone stool, his head resting on his crossed arm against the bar, mostly asleep, an empty whiskey glass of whiskey to his side. All from his hat to the cloth that wraps around his faith, his dark blue coat to his leather gloves and boots is stained by soot and burn marks. A sword hands on the right side of his belt and a holsters holds a large handgun against his ribs. The ice in his glass have been melted for a long time.

He arrived here three days ago, after dark and directly went to his room to sleep. Since then he's either been reading in a corner or just sleeping at a booth. He ate his meals alone in his room. He hasn't spoken much to anyone. All he said was that his name was “Corvo” and that he was there for the same reason as everyone else.
Even after those three days he had not once taken off that cloth from around his face in public. He didn't seem happy to be there but did not look to be in a hurry to leave either.

The past three weeks had been relief for Corvo. He had accepted his fate and his new found duty and for those three weeks the sense of urgency that constantly chipped away at his mind had withered away.
Lae'naya helped him in choosing his crystals and in embedding them. She started by making him use a water crystal to understand learn to control his power. As she specialized in energy release she helped him install and learn to use such crystals. She did most of the surgery.
He ended up mainly installing metal, fire and electrical crystals.

The training that followed was what left his clothes in the state they were in.

---

After the group entered the city walked off and went down a street a block over from the square. A single wall pierced with dozens of windows and doors span on each side of the two hundred meters long street. Both sides were connected by arches that each stood on a row of columns that split the avenue in all its length.
Corvo stopped when he spotted a large door of sculpted and varnished oak atop stone stairs and underneath a porch.
He pulled out a notebook and, from the other side of the road started drawing this portion of the wall with all its doors and windows. Pretending to be an architect was an easy way to explain away why one stood in front of someone else's property and observed it in detail. After a couples of minutes of looking at the façade, he turned the page and made a quick map of the street, noting the different arches and manholes.

Once done he stuffed the book in his coat and nonchalantly walked down the street before speeding up at the corner and walking to the central square.

Idris found herself close to the outside of Sayrn, her typically pale skin tanned due to her time spent training under Kali-En on top of the two day trek to the Inn she was told she needed to go to. The journey to the city was not at all displeasing as the autum months were no where near as brutal as the winter's she was used to in the mountains she had called home for so many years.

Thanathos, I really hope I'm almost there, she thought to herself as she stumbled slightly, she was exhausted and it was only mid-day judging by the position of the sun. With a sigh she trudged on and by nightfall, she saw what she assumed to be campfires in the distance which brought a small amount of hope, and mild worry, to an otherwise dreary day. Finding a relatively out of the way place, she set up a small camp, laying out her her make-shift bed before she flopped down., With in minutes, she was asleep, her pistols close by her and her pike clutched tightly withing her hand in case any unwanted visitors decided to show up.

Around dawn, Idris was up and packed before she set off on the final leg of her journey, relieved that she would be able to sleep in a bed. It was around mid-day that she came across a blockade of multiple Imperial camps scattered along the length of the outter walls. Frowning, she housted her bag up a bit higher on her shoulder and scanned the outter wall in hopes of finding the Inn that she had been told to wait at. When her eyes finally fell on a building made of wood and brick standing at about two stories, she let out a small sigh and headed towards the crossroads it stood on.

"About friggin time," she grumbled as she stalked over to the Inn, intent of having a mug and shoveling some food into her face.



After managing to keep to herself, Idris found herself being led through a suprisingly dusty and rather irritable city by a couple of rebels. Having been used to snow rather than dust, she found the dust inside the city to be nearly suffocating, her nose beginning to run slightly as she placed her hands over her nose and mouth. Once the Rebels brought her to her destination, she was almost too caught up in her near inability to breath to notice the man standing in the central square wearing wearing a rather expensive suit. However, what did catch her attention immediately were the two people in Silver as she approached them, her footsteps as quiet as she could manage.

Despite the high noon, the weather in Sayrn was foul. The murky grey skies hung heavily over the city, swallowing the highest peaks of skyward buildings in the last remnants of the morning fog. The everpresent dust, filled with moisture clung to everything it touched, dirtying people’s faces and clothes with every gust of wayward wind; no one in their right mind would wear their good garments out on a day like this. The very few nobles Arbos spotted passing through the square were hidden behind the tightly sealed windows of their palanquins and carriages, relying on shiny brass filters to give them clean air on the inside. The drivers and carriers on the other hand had to get by with masks and shawls tied over their faces just like the rest of the common folk.

The massive cast iron hands of the main clocktower shifted reluctantly and a heavy tired bell rang twelve, prompting Arbos to look around in displeasure throwing sideways glances at the statue of the emperor he was standing next to. The stylized, angular creation wrought of pure brass did well to convey the perfect facial features of the imposing man; it’s been good three centuries since the King last met the Emperor, but something told Arbos that even after all this time the man would look the same. One does not bear the nullomantic power worth rivalling the elder gods without getting a few paltry benefits like longevity out of it, after all. That kind of power comes with a great ego, of course, and that’s what annoyed Arbos at the moment. As the wet dust continuously covered and marred the brass it would not be long before caretakers would show up to clean and polish it; and standing next to janitorial works would be nowhere else as cool looking.

Making a minimal effort to expel any dust from the area around him, Arbos raised an eyebrow and turned to the group of people entered the square. Four… Five nullomancers? About damn time, his face widened in a sly grin, before turning to bepuzzlement as some child brushed past his enforcers and stopped dead in her tracks. Giving her a puzzled look Arbos turned to the other group that approached them – several low level flunkies from the city outskirts, a young woman and a young girl-
“That sparkly motherfucker… I’m gonna kill him. First thing I do when I get a body – kill him. Then revive him and kill him again. With a spoon.” – Arbos thought to himself as he forced a lopsided grin on his face and cocked his head to the side. Another woman in her early twenties approached them quickly as well. Despite looking like a Cauhri, Arbos could tell she was of a different race; which exactly however remained a mystery for now. Another one, a man, stood somewhere on the other side of the square but did not approach. Well, instructions were given loud and clear, and Arbos was not about to babysit anyone – these four would have to do for now. With a click of the fingers he motioned his enforcers to round up the four women and line them up in front of him. One of the rebel escorts bowed courteously.

However just as he was about to pen his mouth for formal introductions, the youngest one of the group started yapping instead, much to his surprise.
"Hmm yep, I sense a spectre! You could've chosen a better vessel though, he smells horribly."
“….huh?” Arbos thought to himself, taking a good full second to comprehend the amount of stupidity that just transpired. The two enforcers exchanged surprised glances and as if by command stepped the hell back. Arbos on the other hand stepped forward and cocked his head to the side, a vein pulsing on his temple. This was almost too tasty to pass up; he’d even spend a bit of a more precious charge just for this moment.

“Halt.” – The old man’s eyes flashed gold as the word left his mouth, getting imbued with a minuscule fraction of the Voice of Yorr. The word, although quiet in volume washed over the entire square in a heavy unstoppable wave, never dissipating. The next instant everyone in the area stopped dead in their tracks, mouth open mid-speech, legs raised mid-step. Fear and confusion flashed in the eyes of the four novices, as they realized that they could no longer move their eyes, much less their bodies. Slowly and pointedly Arbos stepped forward and pointed his finger at Selessia.
“You, sit” – His finger pointed to the ground, and the young girl immediately fell on all fours. Arbos’s face took on a twisted smirk. – “Now, bark for me.”
Absolute commands are absolute for a reason and Selessia, despite all efforts to the contrary, began doing her best dog impression, loudly going ‘Woof Woof’. Arbos chuckled grimly as the scene went on for a full minute, before scanning the rest of the novices with his eyes.
“Now listen up, you bunch of useless frog eating peasants. My name is Arbos Xell, but you may call me ‘master’, ‘sir’, ‘boss’, ‘your godly excellence’ or in a pinch ‘super extra awesome guru’. For what it’s worth, courtesy of my idiot apprentices, I’m going to teach how to use nullomancy in a way that does not lead you to blowing your own tits off or having your fingernails pulled out by the head torturer of the Empire. Stick with me and before this decade is through we’ll be drinking hard liquor out of the Emperofag’s bleached skull, but to that extent you will do what I say, when I say it. Cause if you don’t…” He glanced at Selessia, still woofing, and his eyes gleamed with murder. “…being made to bark in public will be your best option. Everyone gets me? Good. Let’s move.”

Arbos then casually walked past them, releasing the control with a snap of his fingers and laughed loudly as everyone in the square, with the exception of his two enforcers, fell over; their strained efforts to move catching up to them all at once. The enforcers paused for a moment, waiting for the novices to get their bearings and then motioned them to follow the old man.

The trek through the maze-like back streets of the City of Dust took some good five hours, during which a rainstorm broke out. Arbos and his enforcers weren’t bothered, the droplets simply avoiding them in mid-air, but the other four had to deal with the weather the good old-fashioned way. For a moment Arbos thought back to the fifth nullomancer who was at the square earlier, but quickly dismissed the thought. If he was one of the novices he would have approached with the rest of them; must’ve been a marshal recruit on recon. The late autumn days were short, and coupled with the heavy rain, pretty soon the group was moving in pitch blackness. The shawled and hooded street custodians were scurrying about, replacing the light crystals in the streetlamps, but the rainstorm made the darkness fall sooner than they expected, and they were struggling to keep up. As such most back alleys were still completely pitch black, save for the dim light of an occasional shop or barber sign. It was in front of one such sign that the group finally stopped. Wrought of glass, copper and wood, the big sign shone brightly in the darkness, reading in bold letters: “Winchester Pub”. Arbos pushed the heavy oaken door, and with a ring of the bell went inside.

Inside of the pub revealed a rather rich establishment. Heavy oaken tables and chairs were polished and sturdy, glass cable lined the ceiling – glowing with a dim pleasant light from the main light crystal behind the bar. Each table had its own brass and copper lamp, allowing the few remaining cutomers to read quietly. Even the walls were covered with pine planks, stained burgundy and lacquered, giving the place a very subdued and comfortable atmosphere. A sharp eye could notice that most of the customers were dressed in suits and hats very similar to the ones that Arbos and his enforcers were wearing, albeit not seemingly made of normal cloth, and not whatever the silver material was. An aged but well maintained piano stood in the corner of the pub, although its seat was empty in favour a large music box made of rosewood and gold, which quietly played a piano and brass song at the time. The bartender – a man in his later fifties, clean shaven and with more than a touch of grey in his hair, shot a glance to the new arrivals and bowed his head respectfully to Arbos. The rest of the patrons did the same, without moving off from their spots.

A motherly woman of indecipherable age, dressed in a spotless white apron walked out of the back room and rushed over to the group, instantly starting to fuss over them.

“Oh gods, gods master Arbos! First the poor boy from yesterday, and now these poor women! Would it kill you to be a little nicer to your friends? They are soaking wet for Aluthea’s sake! Come come here dearies, I will give you some towels to dry off!” She ushered them to the corner of the pub, where a large table was set up, separated from the rest of the establishment by a chest high wooden partition. The seats here were soft and cushy, covered in dark red leather, allowing the exhausted group to finally relax.

Arbos smirked and went over to the bar, quickly downing a full tumbler of whiskey that the bartender had poured him ahead of time.
“How many times do I have to tell you Maggie? They’re not my friends by any stretch of the imagination. More like… minions, I’d say? Cannon fodder?” He looked over the wet and trembling group and sighed. “I was promised fighters gods damn it, who the fuck sent me this kindergarten?! …Alright, fuck it, Maggie!! Bring them some hot food and drink. Some nullomancers they are - can’t even dry themselves off properly… “

The woman scoffed at his remark as she handed out crispy fresh new towels to everyone and then scurried off into the kitchen to get the food going. Arbos sighed again.
“Seriously, when will I get some damn respect around this place?... Gonna fucking kill every one of you assholes when I get my body back…” He muttered under his breath and without much warning stopped possessing the old man Williams. His spectral form spread out, taking up much of the space at the head of the table. The wide shadowy cape and wide brimmed hat made him appear far larger than might’ve been in less fancy clothing, but alas he had no choice on the garb he was offed in, back in the day. The crystal lights flickered as his form was finally unshackled from the constraints of a mortal non-nullomantic body, his sheer presence washing over the newbies. His eyes, shining brightly in gold scanned the four women present and he smirked.

“Alright you broads, share your gossips or whatever eat, drink, get to know eachother. This is the last night you’ll get to chill in your lives. If you got any questions,” He pointed at the bartender, “ask Klaus. I’ll be upstairs sorting some of my own business out; don’t bother me unless it’s important.” That said Arbos gave them one more toothy grin and disappeared into thin air, only the after image of his shining eyes lingering for a second longer.

It was six in the evening, dark and raining outside, and hot food was on the way. Everything seemed like the rest of the day would be spent making introductions, alas the group did not yet know that one more event was to occur that night. Whether they would finish getting to know each other before the time came, however, remained to be seen….

---

@Anndgrim

Meanwhile, back at the central square, Corvo was pacing back and forth under a small awning of a local pastry shop, hiding from the pouring rain. After waiting for over five hours he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but it seems the so-called King of Thieves never showed up. Or did they miss eachother? Either way the darkness had long since fallen, and he was getting to the end of his patience.

“Sorry mate, do you have a moment?” A deep, raspy voice spoke out from his back. Corvo turned around and looked over the three cloaked men that stood before him. They were wearing well-fitting leather and mail armour under their coats, with intricate metallic gauntlets on their hands. Two of them were carrying long metal staves, while the third one (their leader by the looks of it) had several dozen daggers and needles strapped in multiple layers around his waist. His gauntlets were much larger than those of the others and adorned with some kind of intricate metal coils. Even in the darkness of the autumn and through the heavy rain an insignia of four white lines could be seen marking their chests and shoulders, marking them unmistakably as Imperial Marshals.

Corvo found himself with a dilemma: To fight was to die, so will he run? He could escape one marshal, but will he manage three, one of them most likely a captain or lieutenant? The streets of Sayrn grew slippery with the muddy puddles of infinitesimal dust, and the custodians had not yet lit the lamps. Will he use that as a chance to try and escape, attempting to brave the street maze of the cursed city? Or will he try and talk his way out of it? Time to decide was nigh.

Idris couldn't stop herself from letting out a low hiss when he had used the words 'cannon fodder' to describe the group, her eyes narrowing on the man despite what had been said to them no moments before. "For someone who is to be a teacher, you really don't seem the sort to have earned that title well," she muttered crossly to no one in particular as she pulled her wet hair forward to ring it out, revealing a small pair of very white... and very wet, wings. She did not enjoy what he had said, but she could not fault some for thinking of some people as such, mainly because that was possibly the only thing she was good for. Letting out a noise, she sat down at one of the tables with the given towel and set to work drying herself off the best she could.

Letting out a sigh, the young winged elf looked over at the female who had been forced to bark not moment before they had arrived to the Inn and gave her a curious look. "So tell me... what was it like being forced to bark before everyone?" she questioned, her tone was light, not at all condescending while most more than likely would have been, "I would not have thought someone who was meant to be all mighty would stood so low as to make someone do such a thing."

As if she could feel the old man's (Whom she assumed to be Arbos), irritation, she slipped back, away from what was about to happen. She watched in slight bewilderment and amusement as the younger girl fell onto all fours and started to bark like a dog. This man was powerful indeed.

Arda couldn't help but stifle a giggle as she listened to Arbos speak to them. Even though he was being condescending and rude to them, she couldn't help but find a little bit of charm behind the blatant insults. She liked people who were blunt and to the point. She felt a slight tingle go down her spine when Arbos warned them of what would happen if they disobeyed him, she could feel his killing intent. She hadn't felt such an air of authority before, she didn't know what to make of it, but she went with it rather than complaining. Complaining would only put her in a similar if not worse situation than barking like a bitch.

When Arbos strode past her and the others, he suddenly clicked his fingers. Everyone, except his silver attired 'guards' collapsed in an instant. The pressure was overwhelming, pushing Arda into a crouching ball as she tried to fight the force, her arms straining as she pushed against the ground to keep herself from being crushed. The pressure released as fast as it came, she slowly got up, her muscles trembling from the sudden tension. It didn't take her long to shake it off as she followed after her new 'master' and his guards.

As she and the others got soaked by the heavy rain, she noticed that Arbos and the guards weren't wet at all. They were bone dry. She saw as the water droplets just...stopped as it approached them. How fascinating. It was a while before they came across a tavern by the name of "Winchester Pub".

---

She quietly thanked the woman who gave her the towel, before proceeding to dry herself, starting with her long black hair. Arda felt like she could just wring it out like a wet cloth.

She stared in awe at Arbos' incorporeal form, his eyes golden, similar to her own but more... shiny. The pale Cauhri wondered what it was like to be a spectre. Perhaps it was boring? Immortality sounded quite boring to her. She glanced over to the other women, not really attempting to engage in conversation and concentrating on drying herself. Should one of them try to talk to her, she wouldn't be entirely opposed to it.

Thea sat quietly through Arbos’s ‘instructions’, her face a mask of the thrill of excitement coursing through her. For having felt such a sense of disappointment upon initially seeing the weathered old man she had been sufficiently convinced that he truly was as powerful as the stories foretold – if not more so! To witness his abilities had been exhilarating and terrifying all at once – unable to move and the girl that was forced to bark. It was truly awe-inspiring.

Toweling off her long white blonde hair, a ghost of a smile crossed her face as he disappeared, his gleaming eyes giving her the impression that he could even go so far as to read her mind. Hiding a shiver of excitement she turned her attention to the others at the table. She wasn’t the greatest at making friends – but if these were to be the people she’d be training with she knew she needed to put in a good effort regardless of how uncomfortable it made her. She was shocked to see wings on woman sitting next to her; the villages of Jaw Pass didn’t exactly encourage diversity, but couldn’t conceal a snicker of amusement when she asked the younger girl about the whole barking fiasco.

“Are you really surprised?” she asked the winged elf after her comment on Arbos’s behavior. “I think it was an incredibly effective means of teaching us the kind of attitude that won’t be tolerated,” she said pointedly, glancing at the younger girl. “We are here to be taught after all – it’s not as though we’ll be able to fight with our ‘wit’ alone.” The sarcasm in her tone was not subtle, a snarky smile pulling at her lips. Even before she knew just how powerful Arbos was she had found the younger girl’s words rather rude. “My name is Thea, by the way,” she continued, glancing at the others.

Sit? Why would I- Selessia couldn't even finish the thought before she noticed her body starting to move all by its own. She tried to struggle, but her body had stopped obeying her completely. What was this ability? This was nothing like the nullomancy she was taught. The man then told her to bark. And no matter how hard she tried to resist the urge, she barked like a dog. Ashur had told her that the man was an asshole, but this exceeded her expectations. She glared at him furiously as the barking continued. However, his murderous eyes quickly evoked a sense of fear within her. Had Selessia learned her lesson? Probably not, but she would at least not talk that much to the spectre directly. After all, the guy seemed to have no sense of humor. That said, she could somewhat appreciate the nickname 'emperofag', too bad she was too busy barking to tell him that.

Five hours and a rainstorm later they would arrive at the Winchester pub. The richness of the establishment made her remember of Ashur's mansion. It seemed he had taken some inspiration from this place when it came to designing its interior. The woman, Maggie, was someone that seemed more to Selessia's tastes. She actually had the guts to talk to the spectre with a conflicting opinion, albeit still with some respect. Selessia scoffed at the notion of being this man's minion OR cannon fodder. She might not be the most accomplished nullomancer around, but she did pretty well for three weeks of practice. Selessia let out a loud "hmph." as she released a bit of charge from her heat crystal. It took half a minute at most for her to dry. She wasn't going to let the spectre humiliate her any further. She could dry herself just fine, thank you very much!

She got herself a drink and sat down before one of the others spoke to her. However, most of her words were lost on her as she noticed something for far greater interest. Her eyes grew large and showed a curious twinkle "Are... are those wings?" her voice was filled with awe. "How did you? How can... I want wings! Can you fly?" Her upbeat mood quickly dissipated afterward as another mingled in, her words buzzed around Selessia like a pair of annoying flies. The woman introduced herself as Thea. "I guess he needs some way to get people to follow him without any charisma." she stuck up her nose. "My former teacher could teach me well enough without making me bark like a dog, thank you very much." She hadn't found her words to the spectre to be that rude at all. Maybe she hadn't called him her 'master', 'lord' or 'supreme guru', but that didn't mean she had been disrespectful. And really, couldn't the mighty spectre get a better vessel than an old man that smelled like he had lived on the streets for three decades? "Selessia." she replied.

Idris was mildly surprised to have caught the attention of someone who seemed to be of a similar age as herself, though her attention was diverted by the young women, Selessia if she remembered correctly, asking about her wings. A small frown crossed her features at the mention of the useless appendages that were now currently flapping behind her in an attempt to dry out. It was very clear to her that she was the only Non-Cauhri in the group, not only because of her wings, but also because of her build. While she knew them to be strong, she did not know many who had to climb mountains constantly throughout their life to get to where they wanted to be. Letting out a soft sigh, she rubbed her face dry with a towel and finally turned her attention to those who had spoken to her.

"As it is only fair... my name is Idris," she said as she set the towel down, "To answer your questions little one, no... I cannot fly. They are not nearly as large as they would need to be in order for me to do such a thing, though I am a rather magnificent climber, or so I've been told. As for his actions being an acceptable means of showing us what would not be tolerated... I rather find myself wanting to do what this one did just for laughs." Offering Thea a small smile, though it was clear that it was not something she did often, she settled herself down in a seat and worked on drying her clothing. While she was fully capable of utilizing one of her stones, she preferred not to use them unless absolutely necessary.

Idris had spent most of her life working hard for everything she had gotten, which was what tied into her mindset to not utilize her crystals unless she felt the absolute need to do so. "So how long do you think everything will take?" she questioned, though it was not aimed at anyone in particular, "I Would assume that he is not an extremely patient man as he seemed to pay no mind to the one male who seemed to keep himself separate from the rest of us."

The teasing smirk didn’t fall from Thea’s face as Selessia tried to justify herself though the older woman bit back the snappy retort that came to mind at the young girl's words. They were supposed to be playing nice and she didn’t need or want to be the one to cause any trouble. Laying down the towel, she began to run her fingers through her long hair, disgusted by the grime she felt. This wretched city was surely a place to be damned with its cursed dust. Her entire body felt caked in filth and the rain had done her no favors. The first thing she wanted after a hot meal was a bath. Braiding her hair to keep it out of the way, she almost laughed aloud at Idris’s musing to irk the spectre further.

“It would be your funeral,” she teased the other woman, as their food was laid before them. Thea hadn’t realized how long it had been since she had eaten until the meal was in front of her. Taking a bite, she glanced sidelong at Idris again. “So what do you call yourselves? With wings like that?” She was particularly interested as the winged elf primarily because it was something so different than her small town mentality could even fathom. Of course she had heard of other races but it was impossibly rare that they would come the way of her village. Taking a sip of the drink Maggie had brought them Thea was pleased to find it was a mulled wine, fantastic and warming all at once.

Though she didn’t answer, Idris’s question of timing did get Thea thinking. It hadn’t taken her long to out learn what Olen could teach her though she knew he wasn’t what anyone would call a ‘master nullomancer’. Still she had been under his tutelage for nearly a month before the frustration of having nothing more to learn had driven her to seek out Arbos. He truly seemed the no nonsense sort despite having a rather crass sense of humor. While she didn’t necessarily fear being humiliated by his antics, she did worry about disappointing him, and herself for that matter.

The men all wore the same lose long leather coats which sides hung from their sleeves as if to make their figure more imposing. Those protected knee length hauberks tightened by multiple belts and straps. Over the mail sat a navy blue leather cuirass. Though it opened in the front like a double breasted jacket with metal toggles each moving part was so thick and rigid moved like that the entire moved like a set of articulated plates.
Their head wrapped in chequered wool and the capelet of their coat raised up into a hood, they had been scurrying down the unpleasant streets. The rain made Sayrn's affliction worse. The rain was toxic mud before it touched the ground, bleeding through fabric and worming through every crack.
It was clear from their demeanour that none of them wanted to be here.

Corvo was caught off guard by their leader's question but though he tensed up for a second he emptied his mind and turned to him.
"May I help you sir?" He said with the reverence of an honest citizen.
The lead guard cocked his head to the side. "Have you been around the square at noon today?"
"Yes sir"
"We've got reports of some kind of unusual phenomenon happening in here around that time. Have you seen anything?"
"Can you be more specific sir?"
The marshals exchanged a few looks, growing more suspicious. "Like people getting frozen in place, before falling over... surely you wouldn't miss something like that?" The leader narrowed his eyes.
"Well, I can't say that I've seen the deed done. Maybe it happened before I arrived."
"Hmm..." The lead marshal grunted and looked Corvo over, noting his equipment and weapons. "And what exactly is the purpose of your visit if i may?"
"Business sir. I work security for high and mighty people. I was to meet a clients messenger here a few hours ago. Haven't shown up." Corvo threw a glance sideways to the centre of the place, running his tongue behind his lips. "They like to pull that sometimes. They think they're testing you... you know."
The leading marshal paused for a moment then smiled. "Ah, i did hear something about House Ellear hiring outside help, since they've been hit by bandits lately"
Corvo retained a chuckle.
"I'm not at liberty of discussing that information. Or well, at least that's what I would normally say. Truth is, I know as much as you on the subject."

The marshals exchanged a few looks, before the leader turned back to Corvo with a nod. "Yeah, sounds like the nobility alright. Okay, thank you for your time and may the Emperor keep you." Giving him one last sharp looks the three marshals turned around and slowly disappeared into the darkness of the rainstorm.

Corvo tipped his hat as they walked away. "Have a nice day sir."

As the men disappeared Corvo let out a sigh. "Well I guess my 'good' friend is not coming after all." Turning to the pastry shop's window and took out a purse from under his coat. As he pushed the door of the pastry shop a small bell rang and a young lady in a green dress with silver grey skin and immense hazel eyes came out from the back of the store. With the rain, no client had shown up for hours.
"You should have come in hours ago. It's not right to stand outside in that weather."
Corvo pointed to a chocolatine. "If I had come in three hours ago, someone would have had to roll me back to my place."
The confectioner chuckled as she wrapped the item. Corvo shovelled an entirely too large amount of money out of his purse. "For the inconvenience" he muttered before walking away.

"Winged Elves," Idris responded to Thea's inquiry about the name of her race, "While they sound wonderful... they are rather big assholes if you ask me." Idris let out a sigh and started to chew on her bottom lip as she thought about what had happened to get her to where she was. She was not at all happy about what they had done to her, but all in all, it brought her to places she never really thought she would be. When she fully understood the attention her wings were receiving, she couldn't help the small smile that made its way to her face.

"If you wish, you can touch them," she stated, "Just be careful, they are rather sensitive." With a chuckle, she fluttered her wings a bit and turned her attention back to the younger woman that had spoken to her, "You can touch them too if you would like... You did ask about them first after all." With a shrug, she pulled her hair off to the side so her wings were easily accessible to them if they wished to touch them.

Selessia's eyes sparked with excitement at the offer. "May I?" She gasped as she slowly reached out and touched Idris' wing. It felt somewhat odd. She thought it'd feel like a larger version of a bird's wing, but there was something that felt slightly different. Probably the fact that the skin and structure underneath was different from that of a bird's? She couldn't imagine that they'd be completely similar, or were they? Selessia squealed a little as she touched them. Moments like these really brought her inner child to the surface - or at least, closer than it already was.

It was after that when Selessia somewhat considered what the spectre had said before he left. Was this really going to be the last time they got to relax? She figured he meant it figuratively but she didn't think that that bastard was someone who would do that. Surely there would be some time to relax in between the nullomancy training? Curious, she approached the bartender, Klaus. The spectre did say to approach him for any questions, after all. "Um, excuse me? Klaus?" She muttered as she sat down at the bar. "I was wondering... what is this training going to look like? Also, what exactly is currently going on? Is something going to happen?" Just as she finished speaking, she thought of another question "Oh, may I also have another drink, please?"

She had been a detached observer for awhile now as she dried and cleaner herself to the best of her ability with the few towels she was given. She didn't really listen intently on the other girl's conversation, but she could tell is had something to do with the strange wings on their back. Arda didn't want to join in on the conversation, she wasn't that great at conversing anyway. She constantly took sips at her drink on her own before realizing that she had finished her drink entirely. She remembered that Arbos told them to ask Klaus for anything, which she assumed that drinks were also part of it.

But as she proceeded to get one, another girl had already approached the bartender. Arda quietly stood behind her, waiting for her turn to ask for a drink, but she felt that she should ask for a drink while the bartender was already getting one. "May I have another drink as well?" She piped up, her voice a little quiet, but still audible. She glanced at the girl, and recognized her. "Aren't you.. the dog girl..?" She said in a rather blunt manner, but with a hint of amusement.

As she was waiting for her drink, the other girl approached her. She had kept herself strangely isolated from the rest since they arrived. She wasn't sure if she was simply uninterested or socially inept. Her way of opening the conversation revealed it was the latter. "Yes... we kind of went over this subject already." With a sigh of dissapointment she dismissed further conversation and turned back to Klaus. Hopefully her questions provided him with subject matter that was more interesting. Even if it wasn't so, at least she'd get a drink out of it.

"My apologies." She responded with a slight frown. Perhaps that wasn't the most pleasant way to start a conversation. She hadn't really talk to anyone properly for the past few months. So she seemed to have... forgotten some pleasantries. "I'm Arda, by the way. I hope that we can work well together." She said with a slight smile, not really registering the other girl's willingness to end their 'conversation'. This felt far too formal for her. She was too used to hanging around Kron. She felt a little awkward now, starting to fiddle with the tips of her hair a little. Talking is difficult.

Sipping again on her wine Thea politely declined touching Idris’s wings though she smiled at Selessia’s reactions, laughing silently to herself. It was strange to think that even though she knew virtually nothing about these women she would soon be ultimately placing her life in their hands. The danger of their position loomed over her as she really came to terms what she had signed up for. She had been a bit blinded up till this point out of sheer desire to find Arbos and a knot of apprehension now started to grow in her stomach. Despite the food being delicious, Thea suddenly found her appetite gone. She was still pushing food around her plate a bit when the girl who still hadn’t spoken a word got up and headed to the bar, Selessia not far behind her. Though she felt a little guilty for leaving Idris alone, she was still feeling more grime than woman at this point and decided to take her leave as well. Gathering her things, she started to stand up when the matronly woman who had been caring for them thus far came up.

“Did you need something my dear?” she asked, looking between Thea and her unfinished plate. “Did you want something different from the kitchens?” Thea was momentarily flustered before shaking her head.

“No – no thank you, everything was wonderful,” she said gratefully, smiling. “I was just really hoping for a bath?” she asked, looking a little pleading. Maggie smiled rather warmly and nodded.

“Of course, this way dearie,” she said, turning and heading towards a staircase in the back of the pub. While she followed closely, Thea couldn’t help being a bit awed by the richness of her surroundings. The paneled walls were lacquered and gave off a rich sheen accentuated by the ornate brass sconces in set increments, illuminating their way. It made her feel small in a way – in her whole life she had never been amid such opulent surroundings. Stopping in front of a large wooden door with brass gildings and hardware, Maggie pulled out a key and led her in to the most beautiful room Thea had ever seen. She couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping slightly as she stared at the dark paneled walls, the plush bed with the burgundy trimmings. The brass chandelier cast both light and shadows on the wall which only served to add to the lavishness. She was so caught up that she didn’t notice Maggie grinning at her, a glimmer of pride in the older woman’s eye at Thea’s inability to speak.

Clearing her throat, Maggie brought Thea back to the present and pointed to a large beautifully carved wardrobe. “Linens and fresh towels are in there, and you can place your things in here,” she continued, placing her hand on a matching dresser. “The main light is controlled here,” touching a compartment on the wall. Adjusting a dial she demonstrated how the light could be dimmed or brightened. “The lamp on the bedside has extra crystals in the drawer.” With a knowing grin, she motioned for Thea to follow her through another door into the most luxurious bathroom. The dark walls were illuminated by two sconces on either side of a huge mirrored vanity the held a stunning marble sink with shiny brass fixtures. The matching marble tub off to the left would have fit three of her as it stood majestically on clawed feet. This time she could feel Maggie grinning at her reactions and Thea blushed slightly understanding that her small town upbringing was very obvious.

“It’s amazing,” she said softly, running her hand along the cool edge of the sink. Smiling again with pride, Maggie proceeded to show her how the fixtures and what not worked in this room as well but clucked her tongue sharply when she looked at the pipes coming into the tub, muttering something someone not doing their jobs as she fished around in her apron pocket for a small case. Glancing over the older woman’s shoulder, Thea could see a line of crystals though several of them were dim if not completely empty. Popping out the empty crystals, Maggie put in brighter red crystals.

“This is the water heater,” she persisted once she had replaced all the crystals. “This way for hot – should be enough there to take as long of a bath as you want to love.” Straightening, Maggie turned back toward Thea. “Any questions?” Thea shook her head, exceptionally grateful that the woman had taken the time to show her things in such detail, though it was Thea’s sneaking suspicion that Maggie hadn’t really trusted her to figure it out on her own.

“No, you have been so helpful, thank you,” Thea told her earnestly. A stern look befell the innkeeper for a moment as her sharp eye suddenly seemed to take all of the younger woman in though she held her tongue if there had been anything she wanted to say.

“Here’s your key my dear,” she said, handing Thea a brass key on ring with her room number attached. “Bell pull in case you need anything, breakfast is served sharply at 8.” With one hand on the door, Maggie left leaving Thea alone.

With a sigh, Thea glanced around the room again, that same feeling of excitement beginning to creep back through her veins. Taking another quick walk around the room, she ran her hands over the silky feel of the bedspread and the intricate carvings on the wardrobe before pulling out two clean towels to take into the bathroom with her. Noticing a rack in the corner, she began to hang up her wet things, peeling off all the filthy layers. Wrapping a towel around her body, Thea made sure her exterior door was latched before she headed into the bathroom.

Pushing that door closed as well, Thea placed both towels on a rack near the tub and returned to the mirror to begin combing through her hair. She made a face as her fingers ran through it, it’s normal softness made gritty from Sayrn’s cursed dust. Leaning over the tub she turned on the water, testing the warmth with her hand before she found a pleasing temperature. She toyed with a few of the soaps in a basket on the vanity until she found one that bubbled nicely for her purposes.

She stared at her reflection while she waited for the tub to fill, running her fingers over the crystals embedded around her waist, before taking hold of a pocket watch on a long chain around her neck. A gift from her grandmother, it was a remarkably ornate with a crest-like design. She had been told it was in her grandfather’s family for years before Lenore had given it to Thea. Slipping the chain over her neck, she opened to the face, winding it slowly, the cathartic feeling calming her. Glancing back at her face in the mirror, the ice blue eyes that stared back at her seemed different than her own as she steeled her nerves against the trepidation that had afflicted her downstairs.

“I will succeed,” she told herself softly, laying the watch gently on the counter before slipping into the tub. Sighing in relief as the warm water consumed her, Thea ducked her head under the water to rinse off completely before lounging back and letting the comfort carry her away.