Denduris — Roleplayer Guild

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A collaboration between @pandapolio and @Denduris

Uriel Aethyn walked at a leisurely pace beside his daemon captor, the not-so-elated young man appearing out of breath. They had needed to slow down, not only to prevent arousing suspicion from the common folk they passed on this oft-traversed road leading in to the Kingdom of Vesh, but for the mortals sake, as he didn't have very much endurance. Uriel's lungs burned with every breath he took, and his rosy red cheeks were accented by sweat. His hood was now pulled up to help obscure his face, and his brown knee-high boots were marred by mud of similar color. He stole a glance of his captor, before getting enough air in his lungs to speak to him while they were on the move. "When will you release me?" He asked in a diffident manner, looking to Zakhul as he did.

Zakhul looked down at Uriel as the boy spoke to him.  “What makes you so confident that I will ever release you?”  An animal smile came to his lips as he scanned the area around him.  Messing with the boy helped alleviate Zakhul’s boredom as they walked.  “I will probably release you once you cease to be entertaining.  For now you are a mystery to me, and a mystery is interesting.”  Zakhul watched the people they walked by.  Many of the people on the dirt road they were on were poor peasants or farmers.  Most walked with their eyes pointed downwards, hoping to avoid conflict.  This was the part of humanity that he hated, the part that was willing to bow it's head to every challenge.  Hopefully the boy will prove to be different.

“Where do you believe we should head?  I have very little knowledge of these lands, so I will leave our destination up to you.”

A tentative moment passed after Zakhul spoke his words to the scholar, Uriel walking in silence as his mind reeled at the possibility of being executed as soon as he leaves his service. He would grind his teeth and shake his head, lightly, as if to disagree, but spoke no venom towards the daemon in response. Digging in to his satchel for a moment to pull their map, he'd start planning their route. His voice took on a note of apathy as he spoke. "It's lucky that we ended up heading south of Everton, I know a sanctuary we can stay in to evade any further investigations if those monster hunters are still pursuing us." He paused to hand over his map to Zakhul, briefly gesturing with a finger to one of the southern-most kingdoms. "I was raised in the Archclericy of Valon, I can tell you the most power they have is through the followers of their religions, not in their faith. Very few of the priests have significant divine abilities, but they'd rather use the masses to do the bloodshed for them. So long as you are disguised, they won't know you were there." He explained, every word flowing out of his mouth as smooth as honey. 

Nodding Zakhul handed the map back to Uriel, he patted the boy on the shoulder.  “I would prefer to avoid any fights for now seeing I am yet to recover from my slumber.  Let us hide now.”  As they walked Zakhul began to mutter under his breath and his form seemed to shimmer.  If one was looking closely they might have seen flesh of a deathly pallor replace his current shade.  Then his feature seemed to warp.  Wrinkles began to form on his face while his skin became tanned.  His posture lost its pride as his shoulders rolled forward into a slouch and his hairline receded.  His eyes changed from their regal crimson into a muddled brown, and his teeth lost their perfect form and grew dirty.  Where there once was a proud specimen of perfection, now stood a middle-aged farm worker who had never looked up from the end of his pitchfork.  The clothes became ragged and torn, becoming much like what many people around them were wearing.

The old man spoke in a kind tone to Uriel, “We can’t get caught because of those eyes of yours, now can we?”  He then waved his hand over the boy’s eyes causing them to change to a pearl green.  Grinning at his handy work Zakhul grabbed a large stick off the road and began to use it as a walking stick.  “Tell me where were you heading originally.”

Uriel's face changed from an expression of unreadable apathy and exhaustion to one of noticeable apprehension as he saw Zakhul change form in front of his very eyes, appearing now as nothing more then an elderly man. Combined with the reassuring pat he had been given, chills went down his back and made him visibly shiver. He held his map in his hands for a minute, trying to digest what he had seen, before placing it back in his satchel. When Zakhul waved his hand over his golden eyes and changed it to a pearlescent emerald, he could feel the change come over his features. He'd take a hand and cover his right eye, keeping his left on the road in case of any changes. "What did you do?" The young man asked with notable frustration and a hint of anger, despite already knowing the answer. He'd shake his head at his asking of such a question, the daemon could do whatever he had wanted to him and nobody would be the wiser. "You're right." He'd quickly add before Zakhul could reply, correcting his disloyal tone and letting his hand rest at his side.

Glancing down at his boots, he'd find the knot he had tied for his boots unraveling. Lucky for him, there was a flattened rock on the side of the road coming up that was commonly used as a bench so travelers could rest their legs for a time. He would slow down and seat himself on the rock, gesturing to the open space beside him for Zakhul to seat himself. "I was headed to Ithell, the 'Court of the Stars'." He would lean over and begin tying his shoes, fumbling with the laces. His mental nerves were shot, and it showed in his frustrated sighs as he continued working on his laces. "It's considered a land of scholars, and they have the most expansive archive of knowledge on the continent. Ancient texts, modern works, the scribbles of ancient mages, I'd imagine they are all there." He would get more excited and focused as he spoke of the nation, a small smile forming on his face. Finished with tying his shoes, he would reach in to his satchel to pull out some strips of dried meat. His stomach grumbled as he parted the cloth covering the ration, and bit off a piece of the rough meat. He hesitated as he looked between the food he had, and Zakhul, before setting it down between the two. 

"I'm not familiar with your eating habits, but if you're hungry, feel free to help yourself. We should take stops in various villages along the way to pick up more food for our journey, and rest." He watched his wording around the other common folk as people passed and took to heading towards Everton. "I know you're not a fan of this, pa, as you prefer the outdoors. We'll pick up camping gear in the next town over, and continue our journey to the Archclericy. We may have to stop by the outskirts of Kron-Nesis and pick up more supplies if we need to keep moving with more urgency." He said, playing his part of the dutiful son with stellar accuracy. Someone had taken interest in this conversation after overhearing their urgency, and walked over to Uriel for a brief moment. The stranger appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties, and was dressed poorly by comparison to the scribe, his own teeth mirroring the old mans. "Is everything alright?" A great deal of empathy was present in the stranger's dry voice as he looked at Zakhul for a brief moment.

Uriel had raised an eyebrow at the question by the stranger, but nodded and went to explain. "We're okay, yeah. My grandpa here is traveling with me to the Archclericy to see his separated wife in her final hours." Uriel explained, followed by evading the civilian's vision, features of grief tinging his face. "Of course, I understand. I'll be praying for her." The stranger replied, evidently feeling guilty for the innocent question, and walked away. Uriel took a minute to finish up eating his portion of the food, before covering up what was left and putting it away in his satchel. He leaned in to whisper in to Zakhul's ear, trying his best to appear inconspicuous. "People have likely seen you earlier on the road, those eyes are hard to mistake for anything else. Having a solid alibi is a must, and killing more people is going to arouse more suspicion. I've seen how strong you are, but the strength of kingdoms will crush us if we aren't careful." The young man got up and checked his belongings, making sure everything was present and accounted for, before starting on the road again, walking at Zakhul's pace. Their speech would be less restricted as the commoners on the road thinned, leaving them alone to their words.

“Quite the wordsmith are we my child?”  Zakhul had a cheerful grin on his face as he walked with Uriel.  He was honestly enjoying the the company more than he thought he would.  Nodding to any who would meet his eyes as they walked Zakhul began to hum a cheerful tune.  As he walked, Zakhul sniffed the air as if he had caught a whiff of a bad smell and wrinkled his nose.  “Bat.”  Turning his attention back to the road he focused his mind on ignoring the pain in his arm.  While the arrow would leave no lasting harm it would take a few days for the wound to heal.

“So tell me of how the world lives on these days.  Do humans still slaughter each other over farmland? Such small minds, though some of you manage to be different and think big.  They manage to think of more than themselves, more than this second.”  Zakhul closed his eyes as they continued to walk.  All the little ants were following the each other on their little roads.  Attempting to block out the background sounds he listened closely.  Placing his hand on Uriel’s should so he would not run into anyone he continued to focus on the sounds around them.  He picked out the smaller sounds around them that most phase out or ignore.  Focusing his mind on those he was able to create small pictures in his head of what he was listening to.  Connecting those images he began to form a portrait around him, using the smaller noises as frames for the picture.

Opening his eyes Zakhul was pleased he had not lost any hearing in his slumber.  Now that his eyes were open he let go of Uriel’s shoulder and grinned at the boy.  “Never let your senses become dulled.  They are the foundation on which all skills are built.”  Now that he was sure in his abilities Zakhul began to wonder about the boy.

“So, are you a noble of some kind?  You seem much to well spoken for a commoner, along with the fact you can read.  Though you do not seem as proud as the normal pompous fool would be.”  Leaning on the staff he let out a deep sigh and wiped his forehead.  “All this walking is taking a toll on my old body.  Do you know if there are any places to sleep nearby?  A bed wouldn't do these tired bones any harm.“

Uriel trained his eyes on the road as he kept a slow and steady pace alongside Zakhul, mired in thought. He wouldn't acknowledge the daemon's compliment or unusual comment about a bat, instead keeping to his silence for the time until a question was asked of him. Snapped out of his thoughts by Zakhul's words, he found the old mans hand on his shoulder. A subtle hint of disgust graced his lips, and he decided to look forward to the road they were traversing instead of thinking about it further. "Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't talk about current politics, but yes, people live and die by the declaration of men with too much power. Kingdoms rely on slavery to be the backbone of their working force, and consider them lesser for burying their fingers in the work nobility can't be asked to do." His words were laced with a venom Zakhul hadn't seen yet, the young man not pausing to mull his words over. "I imagine what a slave rebellion would be like. One way to start it would be educating their youth, their elderly. From there, they should be recognized, and..." He had trailed off before long, realizing that he was rambling, speaking of treason. 

"... I'm sorry, ignore that. A more virtuous world would allow such a thing." Uriel uttered in a low cadence, before moving on to the next question that the daemon had asked. "I'm no noble by any means, I was taught by many tutors in Valon thanks to my parents. Without them, I wouldn't have gotten to where I am today." He came to a stop as he added, "Pride is worthless, humility proves itself time and time again to be more valuable." The scholar reached in to his satchel to bring out the map, unraveling it and giving it an in-depth look. "Your 'old bones' are not going to have a rest for a while yet. Those hunters saw us running in this direction, and are no doubt on the move to mobilize against us." He said as he rolled the map back up and put it back in his bag. "There is a town coming up ahead, I passed through it on the way to Everton. It's a quaint, quiet little place with a small market where we can get what we need. If you can change my eyes, change my clothes, and give me something to cover my face to make sure they can't recognize me."

“Of course we are being hunted, it would be foolish to think we weren’t.  That is exactly why we should rest up.  I would much prefer to engage them rested and healed instead of tired on a dirt road.”  Zakhul began to mutter under his breath and Uriel’s clothes shifted into threadbare garb most peasants wore.  Frowning at Uriel’s face he traced out a symbol in the air then waved his hand towards the boy’s face.  Grinning at his success Zakhul looked over his shoulder at the path behind them.  Nothing looked out of place, but that was bound to change eventually.  “Never let your enemy choose the battlefield. Retreat if you must, but always know your surroundings.  I didn’t change your face, but people will feel an aversion to looking directly at it.  If they really want to they probably will, but it will prevent people to randomly glance at your face.”

Walking further Zakhul decided to inquire about the boy.  “What combat skills do you possess if any?”  It would be strange for someone of the boy’s bloodline to be so unprotected, so either he was a fighter of some kind or he had snuck out.  Zakhul wondered how the hunters would treat the boy when they came to kill him.  Uriel would likely be in danger of being seen as an accomplice and be attacked.  That of course would have to be prevented.  With a smirk Zakhul had a job for Uriel, “When we reach the town purchase some rope please.”

Uriel brought up a finger as if to protest Zakhul's plan for rest, but thought better of it. He would pay no mind to the illusions that were applied this time, appearing calm and collected as it were. "Thanks." His words came out as quiet and bitter as they entered the village. Leaning in to whisper in Zakhul's ear, he would speak. "This is the first place they'd look, you're asking for a confrontation between those hunters. That hunter that ran away saw you use illusory magic, so chances are high that their searching will be thorough. We might get a night's rest, or you may not wake up tomorrow. You are in control here, so I shall do as you order." Uriel's logical mind demanded that they keep going, yet he found no way to insist without the potential outcome of Zakhul disciplining him to remind him of his captivity, or worse, striking him down where he stood. He believed he was already riding a line with his tone.

The young man set a reasonable distance between the two as they walked within the villages limits, his tired voice returning to its normal cadence. "I have no skills in the art of combat." He admitted, a disappointed look appearing across his face, evidently not satisfied with that answer. He didn't elaborate any further, but in the following minutes Uriel could be seen with an unmistakable expression of melancholy. His posture remained dejected as he rummaged through his satchel to bring out a brown pouch of coins, untying it and looking through what he had left. He took a couple of coins and handed over the rest to Zakhul, gesturing to the nearby market. "I'll get us a room at the inn, and you can get what you need. Be frugal, we need to stretch that amount out over our journey." He'd walk away from Zakhul, storing the coins in his satchel and headed toward the tavern. Given where the town was positioned, Uriel wasn't surprised that they had one, as many travelers, tourists, and other civilians must pass through this comely little village to reach Everton and head further northeast.
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