[img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjEyOC42YTg4YjYuUzJWdWJua2dRblZ5ZEc5dS4w/necro-monger.regular.webp[/img] [hr] It didn't seem right to introduce himself. Those who recognised him probably had their minds set already, like Mrs 'I know my rights!' or the girl who'd given him the stink eye a few weeks ago, just because he'd not gently caressed some piss-ass drunk causing a scene on Coney Island. The rest... what did it matter? Kenny listened with a wary expression, the chatter snuffed out by the silver-bearded elf that had invited them here. It was a [i]lot[/i] to take in. Magic... a week ago, he wouldn't have believed it. Hell, he [i]barely[/i] believed half the stories they used to tell. There were explanations, surely. The lost kingdoms, fallen empires, there were plenty of documenatries he'd fallen asleep to in a self-induced stupour, the TV left tuned to the History Channel. But how else did he explain the dwarf, and the other [i]specific[/i] detail that the elf had called out? Or the other [i]weird[/i] shit going on in the room. He almost wished this was just a [i]really[/i] bad dream, but for whatever reason, perhaps the evidence that seemed to be literally [i]flying[/i] in his face in some instances, Kenny kept his feet firmly planted on the carpet. Witch Hunters. Like the old fairy tales? The same sort of crazy shit tweakers would spout about after a trip gone bad. And the phrasing there... [i]Root and stem?[/i] Didn't take a genius to figue out what that meant. [quote=Archivist][color=DAA520]“I was born to carry on that mission and I did until I was ousted by [i]their[/i] leader three months ago."[@NoriWasHere][/color][/quote] He got the impression he was dealing with someone who was almost definitely an accessory to, if not outright committing homicide. [i]Murder.[/i] The word was branded against the back of his consciousness, uncomfortably so. And [i]who[/i] did that extend to? Just random people that happened to show up in a family tree? Someone that looked wrong? Perhaps, more concerning was how [i]comfortable[/i] the old elf was with it all. There was no guilt, shame or any sense of contrition. So, why the change of heart? If the old man had been raised into this death cult, bought into the kool-aid and then some, surely it wasn't [i]just[/i] self-preservation that drove him here, the way he acted so dismisive towards his old acquaintances- [quote=Archivist][color=DAA520]".. and supposed tech geniuses who are drugged out of their minds every single day speaking as if his word is gospel. What they had was money, and they leveraged it to remove me. "[@NoriWasHere][/color][/quote] -and there it was. [i]Someone[/i] was definitely bitter about that particular fact. Kenny was willing to bet a week's bar tab that the elf had specific names in mind when it came to grudges. [i]Maybe he and the fucking dwarf can start a book on that.[/i] A few of the others beat him to asking the questions that sprang to mind, which at least spared him from making it obvious. But the other thing that came to mind, as more answers spilled out... [i]Clairvoyant.[/i] He saw everything. [i]Everything.[/i] The thought alone was enough to make his stomach lurch forward and bring about another mouthful of last night's bile. If the man wasn't full of shit.... [i]another loose end, just fucking great.[/i] Unlike the last one, this wasn't something he could sweep away. But then agian.... they seemed to have a common interest here. All of them. [i]Mutually asured survival.[/i] If it was true... how were these witch hunters actually going to pull this off? Some of them, sure. Nobody was going to question if Pom Evergreen lit up a joint and managed to set her mattress on fire while she was riding the unicorn, but what about someone with a public face? Someone like him. He was a cop. Not the [i]finest[/i], but... still a cop. Even the notion of attacking law enforcement was likely to bring the big, swinging dick of the law like a helicopter down on whoever had such a stupid idea. [i]Because a secret society is really going to pull a drive-by on the station, and not something where you're out on your ass in the middle of nowhere with people you don't know a thing about. Real fucking clever, Ken.[/i] Subtly, Kenny's hand brushed over his waistline, as though he were feeling for the outline of his sidearm beneath the waistline. Feeling exposed, it was the closest he had to a comfort blanket, but it would probably mean screw-all if it came down to brass tacks, as the saying went. The truth was, he'd discharged his sidearm a handful of times on the job, a few more in anger, and never really acquitted himself well in either instance. He'd done far more damage with his hands, a few times with a car, and sometimes with a flashlight, although his Uncle Mitch used to boast the [i]new[/i] maglites didn't pack the same punch they did back in [i]his[/i] day. Whatever the case, he was no Ralph Friedman. He'd done his time as a city cop, washed out, settled for [i]this.[/i] The only reason he'd got the job here was because of good old Uncle Mitch. At least he got to keep the house, in the end.... not that it mattered, if the cult [i]were[/i] coming for them all. All that time, work and money up in smoke. Ivar, for his part, cackled with a near-spiteful amusement at the news, [color=springgreen]'Yer' hear that? Sounds like you and the rest of these teat-sucklers will be breathing less 'n [i]me[/i] before long.'[/color] He flashed a hideous grin at Cailean, [color=springgreen]'Before it comes, see if you can steer [i]that[/i] one my way, just for a taste.'[/color] A thought Kenny didn't want to imagine, for his [i]and[/i] the halfling's sake. Luckily for them.... [quote=Mason][color=85B7EB]”You were either real good at what you did, and something fucked up happened, or you weren’t and these guys aren’t [i]that[/i] scary. And why didn’t you just shoot yourself when you suddenly became part of the problem?”[/color] [@Blizz][/quote] The teenager was to the point, and even Kenny couldn't help but stifle an amused snort of air. He vaguely recognised the kid... Max, Mason, Matteo? [i]Something beginning with an M.[/i]] He'd pulled him over once or twice when he was out on a bike, something about missing a stop sign here, or stupidly cutting through traffic there, though the kid swore it wasn't him. Ken remembered telling him to cut that shit out and get out of his sight.... maybe once or twice he'd been in a bad mood, or had one of his migraines come on. [i]Probably doesn't even remember me.[/i] Ivar, for his part, had taken notice of the boy. [color=springgreen]'That's the fighting talk that, boy probably has some grit under his foreskin somewhere up the family runes.'[/color] -and that was another one for the mental picturebook that he hadn't asked for. If Kenny was going to learn [i]anything[/i] from this old bastard, he hoped it would be how to put a gag on the dwarf's fissured mouth, if not outright ditching the miserable asshole. At least he was in good spirits, pun intended. Or at least, [i]was-[/i] [quote][color=deb887]“I want to keep it. I’m not gonna fight nobody and I’m not gonna hurt nobody, but I want to learn. Maybe I'm not the quickest, but I can learn things. Like how [i]his can talk![/i]”[/color][@Atrophy][/quote] Ivar's attention had been diverted towards the town's resident [i]green[/i]grocer, the perpetually sneering revenant thumbing back in her direction with his particularly [i]colourful[/i] dialect that seemed to blend the best of Dwarven Vernacular. [color=springgreen]'Who does the slattern think she's pointin' at?'[/color] [I]Oh, fuck me.[/i] Because Pom just [i]had[/i] to be the only other person in the room who could see his second shadow, [color=springgreen]'Ye' wanting to cop a backhander?!'[/color] The dwarf indignantly growled, taking a few steps towards the not-so-wisened she-elf. [color=springgreen]'I'm the fuckin' [i]Barber[/i] and not [i]nobody's[/i] ye' leaf-lovin cun-'[/color] Ken broke Ivar's train of thought by swatting a hand through his incorporeal form, like he was wafting away a bad smell. It didn't fully smother the dwarf's ranting, but Kenny's own voice did the rest as he talked over the spirit's impotent rage. [B]"He's dead, I'm [i]stuck[/i] with him, you don't have to deal with him all the time."[/b] Kenny's voice was a resigned acceptance that the moment of respite was over, [b]"So for once... exercise your [i]right[/i] to shut up, he's already trashed [i]my[/i] place."[/b] The others were probably looking at him as though he had two heads. A green irridescence briefly flickered behind Kenny's gaze; although it wasn't something he was conscious of. [color=springgreen]'.. can't take a fucken' shite without scuffin' up some longlugs...'[/color] Ivar grumbled, instead sauntering off across the room, the rest of the group oblivious to his existence. Cailean might have briefly felt a whisp of something cold brush across their backside as the dwarf made an exaggerated groping gesture, before silently stomping towards a bookshelf across the room and haphazardly pulling the closest article to hand out of place, hitting the ground with a startling thud. Kenny dragged a palm over his weary, hungover features, [B]"Really?"[/b] He glanced at Pom, his expression saying it best. [i]See what I'm putting up with?[/i]