[b]A Russel and Naream Collabation at the great Ball...[/b]

Excusing himself from his dance partner, Maeven, claiming he needed to cool off some, mostly due to her bumping and grinding during the dancing they were doing, even though he was far from innocent of not doing the same to her. Regardless he cleared his head of any… distracting thoughts, heading for one of the buffet tables when he stopped and raised his eyebrows at the most curious individual he had witnessed in a long time.

The others people nearby were giving this… apparition a rather wide berth, either from fear, distaste or simply indifference. It was a man, well the skeleton of a man, nothing unusual to him of course, what was unusual, this one was not under the control of a necromancer, he had heard about this one, also a member of the Queens Blades but he thought the people discussing him were jesting and not serious.

Seeing the oddity walk away he decided to follow in pursuit and perhaps, assuming he was able to communicate with it, which should not be a problem he had ways to talk to the deceased after all…

It did not take Rust long to find clear air near the open doors of the ballroom, a door the opened onto balcony of marble, carved with care of craftsmen. The din of the party that was suffocating, and all encompassing diminished as he rested his hands upon the balustrade and leaned against it for a moment, hanging his barren head in thought, trying to remember the memory, to analyze it, to cement every detail. Yet it fluttered, like dreams upon waking, shifting through his grasp.

He wanted to be angry, but there was nothing to be angry at, or about. He couldn’t angry at what raised him, as nothing seemed to have done so. No one had caused his amnesia, and it made no sense to be angry at himself over something he had utterly no control of. The anger wanted to corrupt itself into depression, but there was...joy there. He had remembered [i]something[/i] While the detailed slipped away, leaving him with impressions, he knew he had been happy in that memory, enthralled, joyous even. 

It was [i]something[/i] tangible. It meant he was not imagining a life that never was. He had lived before. He had a past that could be found. He gripped the railing tightly, faint noise coming from his skeleton as it ground against the smoothed stone.

Naream crossed his arms and studied the skeleton Queens Blade for a moment, how… fascinating indeed, if he didn’t knew any better from the way it seemed to be in it’s current stance, it seemed almost at a loss or forlorn. He reached out with his magical senses but could not feel the tug and pull of some necromancer pulling the strings from somewhere unseen.

After a while, when it seemed he would either not be noticed or just ignored he coughed to make his presence known.

A noise displaced from the regular dull roar of the ball itself caught his attention. Looking up and pivoting on the heel of his right foot, Russel turned to the noise, to find someone there, someone he didn’t recognize. As he finished his turn, his left hand returned to the mount of the scabbard, steading the blade’s sway without consciously thinking of it, his right hesitating for a moment, before reaching forwards in friendly gesture, “Russel, of the Queen’s Blades.” His voice carried from the hollow confines of his upper chest, or around there; a hollow, hissing note of unnatural speech that followed the vague pattern of his opening and closing jaw. His vision fell upon the clasp Naream wore, bearing the insignia of the Queen’s Blades, and nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Naream Baenre, also of the Queen’s Blades.” He replied with, pausing briefly and chuckled. “My apologies, I was not certain if you had… capabilities to form speech, considering your… condition shall we say. But I am rude, we have not met before, or at least not accordingly. I must say you drew quite a crowd back there.” He nodded back the way of the ball. “I feel the need to ask, from a professional point of view, how did you… came to be in this condition you are now? I do not feel the pulling of strings of a necromancer on you, besides you clearly seem to be capable of more than a simple skeleton brought to life, or even a warrior wight.” Naream asked and stated, curiousity evident in his features and voice.

Rust paused for a moment, considering, “Do I guess correctly that you would be a scholar of the undead?” He slowly lowered his right hand, he’d been told it was not a custom adopted by all, so it didn’t bother him much. “But to answer your question, I do not know.” His chest inflated without the intake of air as if in a mimed gesture of a sigh, “I recall nothing until I woke in the mountains to the north, half buried in ruins and bramble.” It came out rather matter of factly, possibly aided by the near monotone of his voice, though there were small inflections that managed to carry through.

He got closer, perhaps inappropriately so, studying the chest area. “No lungs yet the actions of your chest inflating happens, not to mention you are able to speak without any visible voice cords that would be needed to produce such sounds.” He looked up at Russel’s face, well skeletal visage, “You are quite the unique apparition. So you suffer a total loss of memory? No hint of your past at all? Did you wake up at the sound of thunder and some madman shouting ‘ITS ALIVE’? No? How odd, usually that is the case when… well, something like you appears.”

He shook his head slightly, “Loss of recollection, one of the interrogation members assigned to clearing me of any ill intent, claimed. I retained skills and abilities of who I once was, but memories, how I have them, or the knowledge of [i]if[/i] I have them is void. However, I feel familiarities when I do something that I know. Combat is one. This gala itself has familiarity to it.” A thought crossed his mind, of whether he should divulge the recent occurrence of a resurfacing memory, but for the moment, kept that to himself. He knew not this Naream, though the man seemed friendly enough. “One of the Scholars suggested my excess movements are vestiges of muscle memory. However, I saw nothing but deer, birds, and other wildlife when I walked from the ruins. Though, without knowing why exactly, I dug free the scraps of armour I wore and a broken blade that had been buried by time beneath me.”

“Hmmm, I see. No indication of who or what resided within the ruins… or how long ago you might have been buried?” He chuckled, “Do forgive but when it comes to matters of the undead… and animated skeletons like yourself.” He cocked his head and then nodded, mostly to himself as if making a decision. “Let me reveal you a secret of myself.” He raised one of his arms and removed the glove, rolling up the sleeve, revealing his skeletal but still functioning arm. “As you can see, quite the professional interest.”

“Well, they postulated it had been several centuries since I breathed air. The armour I wore and the blade I salvaged seemed to place the time somewhere between four and five centuries. But I have not yet had the chance, nor opportunity to pursue dating them, or identifying their origin further. This event being quite the distraction, since I joined the Blade but a few moons ago.” As Naream revealed his arm however, the gesture of Russel’s head from the arm back to Naream seemed to accentuate what he said next however, “Sir Baerne, I do believe you confuse the meaning of ‘professional interest’ with ‘personal interest’?”

“I am a necromancer, in this case they are both one and the same I imagine, though my experimentation is for something… a bit more far reaching.” He smiled and rolled his sleeve back down and returned the glove over his hand. “Even so what happened to you… must have been the work of a great magical spell or condition, or a curse.” He paused after saying the last part, if what happened to this man was a curse he had made some powerful enemies back in his day, something to contemplate. “Now I am wondering, if you had lived centuries ago… and yet are… ‘revived’ if you can call it that, now then it can mean many things, right now I would like to offer my advice or assistance, if you require it.” He gestured at Russel’s body, this service we both are in asks us to find combat, now I do not know if bones regenerate but if you, were to say, suffer from any damages I could repair you. Perhaps I can even help with your memories, in return… well as you said, personal interest, I would like to make some studies, if I amy and see if what has befallen you, I can use for myself.”

As the Drow confessed to his interest being a bit of both, Rust nodded. He had assumed as much, most seemed to regard a walking, aware skeleton with hesitancy, caution, or fear. It had so far been Rust’s experience that the only people who approached him with any candor, had been children, the drunk, or scholars of death and undeath. “You wonder the same things as I, in regards to why I now walk again. But I think it would be beneficial of us both to work together in this fashion you suggest. For as long as it remains mutually beneficial of course. I would not impose my needs upon you at the expense of your interests, and I would object to studies or experiments that hold danger to my existence. An equitable arrangement?”

“That is a agreeable arrangement to me.” He extended his hand. “To a good and mutually beneficial association between the two of us then.” He smiled, yes he thought, this could provide many shortcuts to his own research and he could not deny that this condition that had befallen this human held a great deal of interest, he always loved a good mystery involving the undead.

He nodded and took the extended hand a shook it firmly. He wasn’t sure he trusted Naream yet, nor knew if he was a man of honour. However, he was a man of skill to have been able to join the Blades, and for now, that knowledge would suffice.

He shook the hand back and grinned, “At this point I’d normally suggest to share a drink, but in your case it might be, ah, a bit messy when it goes down. I however will be returning to the ball, will you as well? I gathered you actually sought some solace when I announced my presence.”

He considered for a moment, and then shook his head once, “I may spend a minute more. While familiar, I am unaccustomed to the din of such a large gathering. It was...a bit overwhelming. I shall rejoin in but a few more moments though. It was good to make your acquaintance Sir Naream.”

He bowed, “It was indeed, enjoy the… quiet, while it lasts then.” He turned back and headed back inside, this mutual partnership might be quite the adventure ahead...