Collab Between Tuujaimaa and Pyro VEast of Tiaquin, Physt; Late Morning; PresentTal'Vara sat in the back of a caravan cart, the horse pulling it along a slow, old beast driven by an equally old man. If it had been up to her, she'd have killed him, the horse, and about half of the rest of the crew and used the money from their corpses to buy a new horse to ride to Tiaquin. But, this way was free, and the old man in charge was a good friend of the Guild back in Gestalt - if he turned up missing, they'd all blame her, and rightly so. However, the rest of the caravan did not know what exactly this trip entailed, and were likely just fodder to make the caravan look legitimate. A good front, but ultimately it could - and likely would, if they ran into trouble - be seen through.
A ridiculously large hat rested on her head, on of the few that could sit comfortably and hide her horns at the same time.
Heading back down into Physt, it brought back memories. Fifty years ago, it had been the place where she had learned the art of necromancy, and had been the place of her biggest spree of crypt delving and tomb raiding. Twenty years ago, it was the first time she had been sent out of Gestalt's immediate area by the Guild to do business. And, it had also been the first time she had met the Sage of Stone. The memory still seemed fresh, and the attraction that had been left by the gorgon was still present in the back of Tal'Vara's mind. However, her biggest reason for remembering her were the lines of crystalline statues that decorated her lair. Ah, it brought back all kinds of memories...
Tiaquin, Physt; Mid-Day; Two Decades PriorIn a back alley of Tiaquin, a sewer grate rustling and clanged about loudly. After a few seconds, the bars came loose and the rectangular piece of metal popped loose and was shoved aside. Out crawled a cloaked demon, smelling of filth and unpleasant things from crawling around in the underdepths of the city. She tentatively sniffed herself, and wrinkled her nose in response to the foul stench that rolled off in waves. It was a damn good thing that the Guild had provided her with the funds to get cleaned up for her meeting with the alchemist.
Tal'Vara sprinted down the alley, her path erratic and winding. She was in a hurry, had a deadline to meet. Her rush was so great that she had even passed up a number of drunkards who were still passed out in the alleys, ripe for pocket picking. Alas, she had not the time; besides, the smell would probably wake them up anyways, and she'd just end up leaving a trail of smelly corpses. No, it wasn't worth the few extra pieces of copper to her.
Nearly an hour later, she exited the bathhouse and ran back into the streets, disappearing into the shadows, leaving a far more pleasant smell behind her.
Rather easily finding the cave that the Sage of Stone called home, she went in without a word. Her feet gently padded on the floor, the bandages wrapped around her feet keeping her quiet. The magic coming off of her cloak all but hid her in the gloom. A dull light shown ahead, and she picked up the pace. She was already late, and she didn't need to hear another lecture from the boss about her being "an arrogant little shit" because she had kept his dealer waiting.
Dormeria's Lair; Twenty Years AgoThe day had been largely uneventful for the Sage of Stone - her business had been slower than usual lately. There were always multiple factors, a few of which she couldn't predict, but this time it had been something monumental - one of her few remaining competitors had inadvertently killed every member of one of the high-class parties that occurred in the glittering spires with a batch of Black Crystal that had gone wrong. She'd seen it coming for a while now with the decline in quality of available merchandise - perhaps one of the couriers had stolen from a dragon that had cursed its hoard in the event of theft. Still, if her opponents undercut her and the partygoers chose to pick their revelry-enhancing substances from less trusted sources for less gold, that was entirely up to them. She'd even warned them through use of the Fae network she had accrued over the centuries she'd spent in Tiaquin - but the problem with customers that purchased narcotics from you was that they were rarely in a position to listen to sound advice. Still, the news bade well for her - she would be the only trusted source for a month or two, and she could easily use that time to create new narcotics to keep the market in her favour.
That said, she had various appointments lined up for the evening, and though she already knew precisely what was going to transpire for the first two, the third was significantly more interesting - it had complexities that could not be accounted for with simple foresight alone. That was good - Dormeria loved a challenge every now and again. Still, it was Thieves' Guild business, and it was business. She would have to ensure she got the best possible deal, and without the foresight that she'd learned to rely on for simple transactions there was a chance (however small) that it wouldn't go exactly as she planned for it to - such chances were things that she did not like.
Later that night"Tal'Vara, Emissary of the Thieves' Guild. Please, step in. To use the old phrase, I've been expecting you." came the noise to greet Tal'Vara the very second she stepped into the darkened lair. The acoustics of the lair provided maximum vocal coverage from any given point to every other point - it was a fairly useful phenomenon, given that her magic was partly acoustic in nature, as well as making it nigh impossible to ambush her should her foresight fail. Still, it was yet to fail, but she had not survived for so long by failing to have sufficient contingency.
"Please, take a seat." came the voice of the gorgon once more, more sultry than the last time, as she stepped out of the shadows in order to allow Tal'Vara to gaze upon her, if she so chose. Most tended to avoid looking directly at a Gorgon, but most Gorgons were truly monstrous creatures that sought to kill all they saw - Dormeria was one of the few exceptions. People could not typically let go of the evolutionary habits that were bred into them, and so few could bear to immediately bring themselves to gaze upon a Gorgon, but there were always exceptions - Dormeria herself was certainly proof of that.
The demon kept her arms folded behind her back, the cloak on her shoulders hiding her thin frame. She did as ordered, calmly strolling into the room. Her gaze never rose to meet the gorgon's - she'd been warned about what she could do with a mere look, and from the amount of statues in the room, she would wager that it wasn't uncommon for her to use that legendary power of hers. She cast her gaze about the room, admiring the amount of wealth prominently displayed for all to see. The only thing that she didn't like about the place was the amount of Fae flitting about the cave.
Less than elegantly, she took off her cloak and sat on a seat in front of Dormeria. Immediately, the dark form lightened as the cloak came off. Her blighted arm rested on a leather clad leg, careful not to touch the seat beneath, for fear of destroying anything. A smile worked its way onto her face as her eyes settled on Dormeria's midsection, rather than her face. "Well, it is good to finally make your acquaintance, Sage of Stone," Tal said, her tone sounding rather reverent. Whether or not this was sincere wasn't obvious.
"Forgive me if I am blunt, ma'am, but I would like to get down to business. The old man doesn't quite trust anyone else to do business with, especially with this kind of stuff. Big order, plenty of variety in it. If you're up to the job, of course."
"Ah, little one... Impatience is a quality that I am regrettably unable to comprehend. I've been around for well over a thousand years now, days like these are mere blinks in my life. Forgive my desire to slow things down and think carefully about my investments." Dormeria replied, lacing her voice with a hint of her potent seductive magic - she wanted to test the waters with this one, first. She had seen many things, past and future, about Tal - she was an interesting specimen. She was not quite the epitome of neutral evil, there was a little flame inside her that obviously loved the death that she caused, but she was close enough for Dormeria's tastes. Those who fervently followed the law were often too blinded by the intensity of the light they preached to see the potential in all things; Tal felt the same way about those who followed the path of righteousness, but she had not had enough time to let that anger change into pity. Perhaps it was Dormeria's vast age that had given her a new perspective, or perhaps it was simply her scheming nature.
"But yes, please... Speak your intentions. I am eager to see what I can do for the Thieves' Guild." She added, again lacing her voice with more of that potent magic. Whether or not Tal had ever been the recipient of such magic in the past was a notable point, and while Dormeria had not turned her most attentive gaze to what she'd been subjected to in her past, she had not seen any use of it that seemed obtuse. The reverence she spoke with seemed to indicate a respect that could be turned into admiration - assuming it was real - and it was at this point, early on into the conversation, that Dormeria decided she had already come out ahead. She could afford to speak more of pleasure than business, but that would be something Tal would have to engage in of her own accord. Seductive magic was not helped by prompts, Dormeria had found; it was easier to let the subject explore their new emotions and thoughts and arrive at the conclusion of their own accord.
The voice was very enticing, alluring. It almost made her want to turn her gaze up to look at Dormeria's face. Almost. The smile fell from her face, and she shut her eyes for a moment, raising her corrupted hand to rub her left temple. Something seemed a bit off about the voice, but she couldn't quite tell what it was. Her eyes opened, the yellow irises raising only slightly up Dormeria's form, though she managed to keep them away from her face.
She tilted her head to the side, causing the bones in her neck to snap and pop. "The old man wants a lot of things," she stated once more. "Mostly, he wants something that will make people be more compliant, more willing to suggestions." Her hand rose up to rub the back of her neck, the previous cracking leaving it sore. "Potions that can leave on paralyzed, but not permanently. Some standard narcotics for our own distribution. And a little something to help the old man 'get it up', if you catch my meaning." A chuckle escaped her. It wasn't something she was supposed to get, but she figured it would be worth the look on the boss's face when she handed him the bottle.
"Of course, there are other things that we would like to have, but since we have time, as you've said."
The magic was working. Good.
"Hmm... I am going to assume that the delivery must be subtle. I can alter the qualities of the red sand enough to fit your purposes... But it will be a potent mixture, and I am not sure I would trust your fellows with it if I were you." Dormeria began, her voice simultaneously pensive and heady - her magic was strong, and Tal was not attempting to resist, so it seemed only fair to give her superiors what they wanted. Still, perhaps other methods of payment could be discussed - gold had little value in small quantities to a Gorgon able to turn flesh into the most brilliant of gemstones. She let out a little laugh, a chuckle, whimisical and musical, as she turned to her cauldron and begun to move her delicate hands across the shelves carved into the rock, plucking choice ingredients from them and storing them next to the cauldron.
"Paralysis is almost effortless, I'm half-tempted not to charge you for it..." She laughed, before briskly turning to bore her eyes down onto Tal - not for any magical purposes - but to be direct.
"There is also the question of payment, is there not? I am very wealthy, and I do not always accept mere gold as tribute for my crafts. There are... Other, more agreeable methods of purchasing my wares, if such things are of interest to you?" Dormeria smirked, slipping once more into that seductive, sultry tone that Tal would no doubt have already begun to associate with her. She offered a scaly, clawed hand to the demon, beckoning her up towards a font of murky water next to the cauldron that she had placed the earlier ingredients above. Tal's reaction would be a good measure of how far she had allowed herself to be drawn into the intricate web of the Gorgon.
"As for the old man's... Ointment, shall we say, I'll give you that for free. I already enjoyed the look on his face."
"The means of transport is already taken care of, we just need to get it to the gates and all will be taken care of. Bribes paid, palms greased, and carts already waiting to be loaded," Tal responded, her gaze lingering on the gorgon's form as the woman moved over to the cauldron and began moving things around. Her remained plastered with that little half smile, her eyes half lidded as they followed the woman around. That laugh penetrated her skull, seeping into her mind and driving out that last bit of resistance that had been forming in her head. She knew that some sort of magic was being used, and the old man had warned her about it. She'd have to deal with it later, it seemed.
Rising up from the seat before the hand was even offered, she was met with that gaze boring into her own. For just a moment, fear gripped her, and the emotion flicked over her features for a mere second before her face turned into one more of passiveness. She took the few steps forward towards Dormeria and stood up next to her, turning her gaze down to the cauldron rather than keep it on the Sage for any longer. "I thank you for the offers of free items, ma'am," she responded, her voice still light and unfazed. "As for a different means of payment, well.. The old man warned me about that tendency of yours, though I am unsure of what to pay you with. I have gathered a small fortune over the years from my... 'expeditions', but I do not think that you want more money. So, go on, name your price. Old man told me to give you anything you wanted, short of the Guild or its entire fortune."
"The pool shows me what has been, what is, and what could be. With the help of ancient magics, I have unlocked enough potential to grant you a boon - the location of some ancient magic that appeals not to me, but must be taken before it falls into hands that would squander it. I will show you what you need to to obtain it, and all I ask in return for these services - your goods included - is an oath of your allegiance, and your devotion. Storms brew in the winds of fate," Dormeria began, lowering the tone of her voice just enough that it became ominous and powerful, seductive in another way, before lightly waving her hand above the pool. The surface shimmered before giving way to visions of war, of strife and torment, and the desolation of all things. The pool showed, simply put, the extinction of all life and all things, even Dormeria, and it was at that point that she hoped Tal would begin to understand the machinations that she was part of. It was impossible to understate one's importance when fate had chosen them for things beyond the ordinary, beyond robbing tombs for a living for the rest of their days.
"Do you accept the gift I have to offer?" came the voice, cutting through the pleasant murk of the light reflecting off of the pool. This was something far more serious than the demon would likely have banked on happening with the Sage - though something about Dormeria's demeanour gave off the impression that she had at least an inkling of the events that were going to transpire. Whether or not Tal picked up on this was a question that she would receive an answer to soon enough. Patience was always a virtue that Dormeria had excelled in.
"Keep the gold that you were going to use to pay me with. Spend it on yourself, perhaps enjoy yourself in Tiaquin for a few days... Your masters have long known that I can be unpredictable, and I would not be surprised if they'd already dug your grave."
Tal'Vara's gaze remained glued on the images swirling forth in front of her. Scenes of death and destruction, of doom and decay. It was all she could do to suppress a smile when she saw Gestalt among those images. However, it was a foreboding thing, as dread quickly began to fill her the longer they went on. It wouldn't be just Gestalt, it would be everything, if what she was seeing was true. Even if what she had planned for Gestalt was able to get off of the ground, it wouldn't result in destruction on this level. Her eyes slowly slid away from the cauldron, and she gave Dormeria a blank gaze, that arrogant smile finally wiped from her face, replaced with a dead serious frown.
"You offer much, but request much in return," she muttered, keeping her gaze locked on the Sage's face. She took a step back, then slowly got down onto one knee, bowing her head low. "But it is not an offer I can refuse, now is it? My word means little, but I vow to pledge myself, mind and body, to you... My Lady," she added with a little bit of hesitation, then remained down on her knee, as if waiting for an order. She didn't know what had compelled her to accept the offer, but she knew it had nothing to do with any loyalty to the Guild.. As far as she was concerned, there was no honor among thieves, just a bunch of daggers held behind pleasant smiles. Something about Dormeria simply made her want to. It didn't matter. She was binding her with words, something that meant little to one such as her.
As the memories faded, a wide smile broke over Tal'Vara's face. It has been two decades since they'd last seen each other, and she thought it was high time that there business continued at long last. She poked her head out of the back of the caravan and looked at one of the men assigned to guard the caravan. "Tell that fuck driving this cart to hurry it up," she growled, glaring through the thin strips of straw at the man. "I want to hit Tiaquin before he drops dead." The man merely chuckled, and sped up is horse to relay the message.
Tal sat back in the caravan, leaning up against the boxes. As th cart sped up, she fell into a comfortable sleep. Perhaps they could get the before the week was out after all.
