Destination: The Hold of Clan BuraqAs the older occultist walked along toward the entrance gates of the city, the little wisp of fire returned to him in seemingly a flash. Turning a brief glance to it, before his eyes returned to the road ahead, the little wisp of fire began to recall to him the return message from Athulwin. While the monk was not seemingly too happy about things, at least to his ears, the little daemonic fire at least had done its job talking. Hmm. He did need to have a more consistent messenger or two he could summon, maybe something the monk wasn't as uncomfortable with? Eh. There was no changing the past, as it were, but later he'd have to ask if nothing else. Give a small list of ideas.
But the wisp seemed a tad frustrated in and of itself still, and after a small puff of smoke and a demand to 'go back home' the occultist would give a wave of his hand. As a result, the wisp would disappear, sent back to its 'home' and no longer running his errands. Better to end things there than risk it trying to go off and set something on fire....though as its summoner he had authority over it in this case. More importantly, however, was the message it had brought back.
Return to Knossos, [and] tell him that he should whisper into the desert wind when he wishes to speak to his Navigator, instead of sending an unholy thing. And... yes, tell him that I said we should keep on eye, magical or mundane, on the more naïve of the Caravan. There are some who have good intentions but too much passion.
Hmm. The two of them had been having the same sort of concern, perhaps, but the occultist would stretch his arms for a second as he tried to mentally gear himself to keep such an eye out. He'd be looking into his own business, but he'd keep eyes and ears out while their resident Navigator sat collecting the usual dust he supposed. Or in this case would it be being buried in sands? Ah, at least they weren't out in proper sand dunes and the like. Nasty things for first-timers to face, those, and he knew that from firsthand experience to boot. Nothing against Athulwin in the end of course, he did his job well. He also did good to send word to them of things farther back in the caravan along the way to boot. Made for some good company at times, even, around the campfire or during dinnertime.
Sometimes, though, the monk just seemed ever so 'tired' to the occultist. Like something more than physical strength was being drained from him. Could see it in his eyes, just about, but only due to his own experience in the field of curses and such ilk. Did this draining have to do with the darker magics seemingly afflicting him? Perhaps, if not most likely so according to his own gut instincts, but he wasn't about to pry either unless Athulwin came to him about the matter for some odd reason.
But what would be better to send a rep-....ah. Aha!
That would be a perfect choice in this instance. At least since he wasn't too close to the city gates yet.
Weaving his hands in a peculiar and almost circular pattern, a small chant was mumbled off of the human's lips for a moment. Something that didn't quite sound like it was a real language, or at least aything 'civilized' with regards to many areas he'd been to before, but which made sense in the place it had come from. A nice little backwater, where he'd assisted some local tribes with a couple of cursed items they'd been tricked with in trade in return for learning more about them. A splendid time after all the de-cursing and such was said and done, but some of that knowledge had given him more tools in his 'belt' as it were.
In a light puff of smoke, a small floating mask appeared about two feet from his face. Several colorful feathers were stuck in the top of it, and its mouth was large and its teeth even somewhat imposing. While the things used to make its 'face' overall were a bit odd, though, it happily grinned wide at him as it seemed to bounce a little in place in the air."Ey dere, squiddy' mahn! Whatcha doin' in dese' parts?"....Why had the spirit chosen
that as a nickname for him, of all things? It was more natural than anything, akin to conjuring some little nature spirit with a bit of a twist. Or well, it was a sort of local spirit that possessed a mask offered to it that it had also made into its body. A cheerful minor being, he had to admit, always one for the positives and jokes despite whatever circumstances were going on.
[color=B0C4DE]"Er...let's not use that nickname around here please, Kua. I just need you to return to Athulwin and tell him I'll be seeking work in the city after speaking with Gadri soon. Barring that, I'll make sure to keep an eye and ear out for any trouble caused by members of the caravan here.
Once that's done, you're free to remain back at the Caravan for a bit or just return home if you'd like.
"No problem dere' boss man! Kua be' doin' his thing, den', before headin' home after a wee' little look-around da' place, eh?"Giving him a joking wink with the mask's left eye orb, the spirit wouldn't stick around as he went off to deliver his message to Athulwin. Or, well, as the spirit had nicknamed the monk: "De Grumpy Boi". Albeit he'd only brought this spirit out in the Caravan once before, but bound to the wind this spirit was certianly closer to what the other man had 'requested' than the prior messenger. It would, though, be the first time the spirit would approach the Navigator. But Kua was a good spirit, jovial sort of compatriot, and frankly good for telling stories around camp fires should one need. All just as much as he was a lesser guardian spirit of sorts too really.
Wasn't as if he could summon the desert spirits of a certain people he'd run into in the past. Yet safe to say that bit of the past was before joining the Caravan. Which was to say, in short, that it wasn't a place he'd normally deign to return to by going 'out of the way' for it. Not unless the Caravan was already going to the place would he return there, and there he'd simply try to peddle his services as usual. Nothing too strange there, albeit cetain magic he'd have to keep especially discreet if the scars of that 'event' were likely still affecting the area. Ugh.
Still, with his last response sent the occultist would continue on his way with haste in his step.
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...
...
It wouldn't be too long before the magic user would manage to catch up with the others. Well, Gadri and whoever else had still decided to linger around before setting off into the city. It was enough to get the older man to visually scan the faces he knew there, though, to see if anyone was showing signs of potentially making trouble. Still, without skipping too much of a beat Knossos would approach the peculiar but welcome presence of the Caravan blacksmith that was Gadri. A peculiar species, but he'd yet to get a good chance to talk to them about things and the Dinnin and so forth more. A lot he'd yet to get to like that from time to time, really, due to business or other things going on in the Caravan and its destinations.
"Gadri! Apologies if I am interrupting anything, but I just need a moment of your time. I was hoping to ask you a couple of things about this area, if I may, as I am to understand you are from these parts. Though what I wish to ask mostly amounts to 'what should I not do here' and if there's any locations I might be able to drum up some business or assist anyone around here...if possible.
Barring any of that not working out, just in case, I'd be curious if there's any good places to visit here, food to try, or the like you can think of to occupy my time otherwise admittedly."A soft smile of mild excitement was on the older man's face, even if not very beaming and bright. Hard to be with some of the things he and others had seen on the way in, but he was hoping to make the best of the situation and where they were if nothing else. What was he going to do, be the one to cause trouble this time? Heavens forbid that day ever came!
@Enigmatik@Tortoise 
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