Kean grinned when the iron-masked latecomer caught the question before it all fell from her mouth. Drawing her hands across an invisible pair for lips somehow made her visage appear all the more inhuman, a reminder, perhaps, of what should be there?

For the most part, everyone was watching each other, weighing and measuring, seeing if any amongst them was found wanting. Not that unwise; this was a doomed voyage at best so they needed every edge they could afford.  Kean was all too conscious of the beggar’s rags and the odour of sweat and dirt that hung about him.

Yet not all were quiet. The Lunan noble beseeched for a relic of his church. The Emperor’s conditions comforted a distrust of the sickly looking Lunan Kean had not been aware of before. Quite how the Emperor intended to enforce them was another matter entirely.  

The vaulted artifacts, mentioned only briefly in the letter. Kean had no idea what exactly they were, let alone what he’d want from them, but he’d have been a fool to turn down the invitation from the Emperor. 

The Fae sorceress’s question, one Kean had been musing over, was answered, if somewhat unsatisfactorily, yet it was something. Perhaps everything. 

At the opening of the doors, Kean turned, watching an orc with curious lavender eyes enter the room. He noted the tension in the arm that supported her as she knelt. Quite what it belied? Kean was undecided. Her acceptance was likely not without reason, but the group was becoming ever the more rag-tag, with two uninvited being accepted. The longer this meeting went on, the faster his hope was drowning in the apparent desperation of the act. 

Ending slavery? Now there was an idea. Shame he doubted that would ever happen. Slavery would always exist, haunting man, just as war and disease would. Always. 

The scoff from the son of that most loyal house did not escaped Kean’s attention. Thrace was one of the names he actually recognised, yet his memory of their history was murky. He just knew them as imperial sycophants.

Apparently not everyone, even if it was just the Elvkiin, knew what the artifacts were, and Kean fought the urge to sigh. 

The commotion provided some entertainment. Its source, an old woman, appeared little more than a commoner, cleaner than Kean to be sure, but spoke to the emperor with a familiarity that was both alarming and amusing. There was history there that intrigued him. This “Susan” must have been something special if she would guide them alongside Valson. Fortunately, she seemed too human to also be a Templar. 

The procession and the menagerie of treasures, well, Kean couldn’t help but frown at them and tilt his head. Having never developed his magical sense, they just looked like baubles and weapons. Some were mildly impressive, but hardly seemed worth keeping a close-guarded secret. Yet, if they were truly what the Emperor promised them to be, maybe there was hope after all.  

[color=gold]"This will do perfectly, thank you my Emperor."[/color] Valson had said, after following the Emperor's suggestion.

[color=#1CE678]“It talks?”[/color] The words escaped Kean’s mouth at Val’s silken tones. Luckily it was only a strangled whisper, but even still, under his next breath he cursed. He eyed the sword, Sanctity, and then looked into the visor. It was easy to see why the Templars had their reputation. Quickly he went over to inspect the artifacts, turning his back to Val. 

[color=#1CE678]“Great going,”[/color] he whispered to himself, [color=#1CE678]“Just keep that up and you won’t even make it out this room.”[/color]

He looked over the tables once. Then again, going slower. A few things piqued his interest, yet one seemed invaluable. The Amulet of the Lying Cat. He lifted it up by the leather cord, fixing his stare on the tiny jade statue: a cat. Slowly, he put it on. In his mind’s eye he could see a pale green, hairless cat the size of a large dog, with jet-black eyes, like shining lumps of coal that smouldered short trails of emerald smoke. He knew by reaching out and just willing it, he could summon the cat before him. It watched him.

[color=#1CE678][i]Come.[/i][/color]

Green and black haze spilled forth from the amulet, tumbling thick and heavy to the space in front of his feet. Kean stepped back. There, under the table, was the cat he had seen in his head. It licked a paw. He knelt down in front of it, and extended a hand. The cat put its paw down and watched with completely-black eyes. Kean cooed, and, slowly, stroked its head. Still, it just watched. 

[color=#1CE678]“You are rather terrifying,” [/color]Kean confessed. It purred now, rubbing its head into his hand forcefully. Its skin felt surprisingly human. For a few seconds, Kean thought, scratching it behind the ear.  Then, he said, [color=#1CE678]“I am the Emperor.”[/color]

[b][color=E10098]“LYING.” [/color][/b]

Kean roared with laughter. It spoke somewhere between a hiss and growl. He stroked it some more, then got up and walked over to the Emperor, stopping a safe distance from his Templar. The Lying Cat followed.

[color=#1CE678]“I thank you for granting this boon,”[/color] he said, grinning, and, uncertainly, he took a knee, [color=#1CE678]“you have my word I shall give my all to end the blight that is the Scorned.”[/color] The Lying Cat yawned, stretching out next to him. 

Kean stood and looked at the necklace. The cat was clear now, completely transparent and colourless. He beamed. Having read the cards, some of the artifacts sounded truly devastating, and if his companions on this venture wielded them, he doubted much could stand before them, even the Scorned. He was content protecting from more insidious threats.