[Show Me What It's Like] Zay - Alexander [To Dream In Black And White]

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Zay;

Zartear seemed to acknowledge what Nathanael said, but then say nothing to it, looking back he saw the three horses that Nathanael and Avyanna had travelled with, weighed down with journey supplies, doodads and trinkets. Surely there was something to fix up the blood wound for Avyanna there so they could be off sooner.
"Stay here." He told Nathanael, making his way back to the pack horse and it's two less burdened companions. It didn't take long to find what he sought, simply some sturdy fabric to act as a bandage of sorts. He didn't fancy taking a bleeding useless body on a journey with him, so all the better to have the powerful and wicked mage fixed up sooner.

Walking back to Avyanna and Nathanael he was beginning to unravel the fabric to dress the damage done. "Hold pressure to it for now while I prepare this...Then I'll put her on a horse and we must then be gone with the others...It would be unwise to sleep here, given the events..." Forcing over some bandage into Nathanael's palm to begin, Zartear turned back and clacked with his tongue, the sound didn't seem to match his face, it seemed too whimsical...Avyanna's horse and the other two trod forward over to them, nickering faintly.

The boy had done a pretty good job, so Zartear unfurled the rest of the fabric and wrapped it briskly into place with well practiced hands, heck, it would have made a good replacement eye-bandage too for the fake blindness of her.

He noticed while doing all this that the boy not to be grinning quite so much as he had, or talking for that matter and he honestly didn't know whether it was cause for concern or just a relief.
Finally when the dressing was wrapped tight, albeit unfashionably, he moved the limpness of Avyanna's body onto the kneeling horse with Nathanael helping strap her onto it securely, her head moving lazily like a ragdoll's. Zartear suspected it'd be quite a while before she would awaken.

Mounting the spare horse and gesturing impatiently for Nathanael to take the remaining one too, he broke the strange descended silence.
"Come now, we must meet with the camp." Urging the horse on in a hasty trot, his eyes glanced this way and that through the woodland, spotting for flecks of white, but finding nothing...Maybe the remainder of the bandits had already caught up with the camp.

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Alexander;

After bandaging her wound, Nathanael paused to watch Zartear wrap the cloth around the woman’s eyes with light fingers and an easy touch. He let himself back track over his thoughts from before about the man hiding his feelings easily. Zartear still seemed his hard, indifferent self, but it was a strange thing to see him make the caring gesture. He had no reason to know why Avyanna consistently wore the band around her eyes or that it had any significance, yet there he was, assumingly doing it only because he knew she preferred to go covered. Zartear, if asked, would probably only voice paranoid concern about the whacko acting up again if she wasn’t wearing the cloth, but Nathanael wasn’t so sure that would be the case.

Or maybe it was just that Nathanael was searching too hard for there to be something else to this man.

Nathanael jumped onto the pack horse with a light, unnatural spring to his step. Settling in the well weathered saddle, he noticed the order of their horses was wrong. He was riding the gray, dappled mare—Moira—that they used to carry the packs when they were over loaded with work or to ride when one of the other horses tired and they were in too much a hurry to rest. She was a tad older than the rest, but sturdy and widely built; a creature that would make it through mountain ranges with easy endurance.

Zartear rode Avyanna’s pure-bred stallion—Nawat—a midnight black that would shimmer a rich amethyst-blue in an afternoon Sun. He was muscular and obedient, a bred war horse that had seen a brief glimpse of wilderness before he was tamed.

And Avyanna was perched on poor Nathanael’s mount—Sairee—whose colouring made it seem like the horse had rolled around in sand dunes for all her life, though mane and tail were a stark contrast of pale a white-yellow that almost matched Nathanael’s own shade of sun-kissed hair. Nathanael leaned forward to grab Sairee’s reins and help guide her with the strange weight on her back. Avyanna slipped forward while they moved faster, her head resting gently against the horse’s neck.

Nathanael glanced around their surroundings out of habit and almost pulled Moira to a shocked stop when he saw a dark cloud loom out of the trees ahead of them in the direction of their camp. The distinct smell of burning flesh and spilt blood across the land, speaking of a slaughter covered in unforgiving flames. He only slowed his mount for a moment before resuming speed to catch up with Zartear, knuckles taunt around the reins.

“I suppose it’s safe to say the others are a lost cause…” He murmured only loud enough that the steely-eyed man might have to strain to hear. Clearing his throat, he picked up his voice. “Did you have any equipment that you left back there? It is probably long gone by now, stolen most like.”

He had been preparing for every eventuality before he'd even set off on this trip. Ambushes, traps, traitors and even plainly lacking favor with the elements. However, it was only now that one of the eventualities had seen itself to fruition.
Despite his soft tone of voice Zartear heard the boy, and then once out of a thicket of trees, the horse halting abruptly before it would tumble over the ridge spiralling into the sky ahead was thick, black smoke. The entire area around the camp had been torched and he saw the movement of bandits now scrambling down the steep cliff face to savage the others of the camp, it was hopeless to think they might survive against the sheer number of assailants.

"So it is true...Then we must go by ourselves..." In spite of the death rolled out in front of him a smile caught on his face, "This should make things easier; we will be less conspicuous, and less...baggage...with us too. As for my belongings, I have all I need with me."
Zartear only had a medium pack swung to his side on a belt overlaying his armour, and besides that all he had was the armour and his weapon. These were quite literally all of his possessions and all he needed to survive. Though, technically, he had a few more tools too. Namely a ferocious mage, some sturdy horses and a boy that he could already see was going to prove his worth several times over. He might make good bait too, he appeared young, inept and annoyingly naive but his actions contradicted that.

The horse shied away from the ridge edge anxiously, Zartear tugged the rein and it turned away quite happily. They were to head out into the deep Ash forest, following the grey-river and then to the Ash Mountains.
"Follow." He told Nathanael simply, flashing him a fleeting smile, now setting the horse off at a gainly pace in the opposite direction of the camp, none the worse for wear and honestly, Zartear seemed in better spirits. "So boy, what do you make of that? There's no way they might have survived anyway...The fact that you and the mage are here now, that's what I'd call good fortune..." He purred.

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And there it was. The sudden change in Zartear that made Nathanael question anything he had thought about the man before. It made him mentally scratch his head. Being the quick one that he is, it was always easy for him to figure someone out within the first few minutes of meeting them, but Zartear…. Zartear was a completely different person all together. He resolved to watch him with a close eye; someone like that would as soon betray his own Mother if it meant getting what he desired in the end. Like their lifeless would-be companions in the ashes that remained of their camp, Nathanael and Avyanna could be easily thrown away.

He didn’t like where his own thoughts were going, though, when Zartear callously pointed out their “good fortune”. Being touched by the Trickster made life exciting and terrible all the same. He knew that it was probably only by the God’s hand that they had been so far from the camp when the bandits had ambushed. It was simple, but horribly bitter-sweet. Nathanael was never fond of the way the God could abruptly dispose of any of his lesser pawns without a tear on the thought, but that was how things were done when you were a God. All the Mortals on your playing field were expendable and especially to someone as nonchalant as a Trickster. Of all the God’s traits he inherited, this was one he found difficult to embrace.

For once, he had no witty retort and stayed silent for a majority of their trip through the Ash Forest. Occasionally he called out his command warnings to let Zartear know if another traveler was nearby or if it was simply an animal wandering close to their path. He stayed behind the man, helping to shift Avyanna’s position when she started to slip off Sairee or when the woman murmured incoherent words in her heavy sleep. They traveled on most of the day without complaint from the boy or the horses; the creatures used to being pushed to their limits. At first they were alone on the well worn road, but as the noon day sun began to warm up the Earth in a heated embrace and the trees began to thin out, they encountered more people. Some had carts with them, loaded with trade supplies. Others traveled were simple out for a ride in the sparsely nice weather. Once, Nathanael stopped a woman and her children who were caring for a mule-driven cart loaded with small rabbit pelts. They had come from the opposite direction and the boy inquired where they were from, suspecting there was a village or town of some sort nearby.

She explained that they were headed for a trading port at a sea inlet not far from here, but they originated from a small town about a mile in the direction Zartear and Nathanael were headed. Ferul, she called it. He nodded his thanks and offered each of the children a copper coin for the information. Beaming, treasures in hand, they rushed to catch up to their mother to show her their wares. Nathanael straightened in his saddle, glancing from the still sleeping Avyanna to Zartear.

“What say you, General? Shall we head into town for something to eat and to see if we can’t catch any useful rumours? Or shall we rest the horses before we keep going?” He inquired. Avyanna had said he was to do as Zartear said. As much as it pained him to give whim to this man, she had trusted him to Zartear’s stead.

The journey had been mercifully silent; the boy turned out to be a great deal more sombre as they travelled than when he'd met him only a short time before. The paths they walked at first were barely beyond the wearings of some animals, but now it seemed like they were coming into contact with civilization, however small, as the tracks of horse shoes were beaten into the ground and they passed more and more people. Traders, travellers and even the odd group of guards. When Nathanael had stopped a poorer traders cart for information, Zartear couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved. Money was never an issue for him so the stay in a small town named "Ferul" sounded like a very good idea...It also surprised him how resourceful Nathanael was for his age. Rumours indeed, if the town was decent enough then a bath, food and some much needed enlightenment on their task would be plenty welcome.

"I say we go then to Ferul, common folk are know for having loose tongues..." He checked back to Avyanna, "Are you quite sure you didn't kill her?" He said, sarcasm whispering in his voice, and yet another reason for them to visit the town. Perhaps a proper rest was all she needed to make herself useful again, she was quite literally a burden at this point.

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Not long having found out about the town, soon enough they arrived in Ferul, nestled away on some hilltops overlooking expanses of the beautiful forests and valleys. The whole place was rather picturesque, and in this afternoon weather life seemed to be going on as usual. Ferul was clearly a town depending on it's trade in it's somewhat remote location, though as Zartear observed, the port seemed to be their livelihood for many, as several carts like the one seen earlier were coming to and from with wares.
At this time the weather had brightened somewhat, Zartear, Nathanael and the body of Avyanna...all atop horses rode on into the quaint town, receiving wary looks from the townfolk, apparently in spite of it's trade the people weren't all that well off and horses were beyond what many could ever hope to own. Plus, the body that appeared to be dead was an ill omen to them so people quickly averted their eyes from the unlikely travellers.

"Before we find out what this town has to offer we'll find somewhere to stay the night..." He thought out loud, scanning the shabby series of buildings that lined the twining streets, then catching a glimpse of a sign half weathered away but a sign all the same of a faded horse figure, approaching it, it seemed mostly empty of life and the entrance was dark and brooding but a pair eyes glinted from the darkness to then show a beaming, chubby bartender who seemed happy beyond reason to be there. Dismounting the fine black warhorse and signalling for Nathanael to do the same Zartear approached the man who seemed unperturbed by Zartear's darker presence.
"And what canna do for ye me lord?"
"We need a room-," he began, but then the Inn Keeper cut in
"The two of yer, well-"
"No," Zartear corrected, "Myself, the boy and lady." The InnKeeper raised his brows peeking behind Zartear briefly and not doing anything to hide his surprise.
"Oh gods! She be in a terrible way ain't she? Yer know we got der most terrifi-" Zartear began to lose his patience, a sour note crept into his voice.
"She will be fine" He gritted his teeth, impatient to simply secure a mere room but the body had attracted plenty of attention and he was growing tired of it. "A fever. Now if you will kindly show me a room and tie up my horses I'd be very much obliged..."
The man puckered his lips and frowned but obeyed him all the same.
"Second floor, room on der right, 4 silver for a night." That was a steep price, but Zartear was all too keen to simply be away from the Inn Keeper and so he passed the coins over without a word.
"Excuse me one moment." Zartear said, turning to unfasten the bindings on Avyanna pulling the sluggish weight from the horse, using Nathanael to prop up the other side of her, though the shortness wasn't helping. Even with his back turned he could feel the stare of judgment from the Inn Keeper, none of them appeared related and he was probably assuming the worst.

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Nathanael finally spoke up for the first time since they had arrived in town, finding it easier to allow Zartear the pleasure of making their room arrangements. Besides, it had been way too amusing to watch the inn keeper and man go back and forth as both became rather impatient and flustered. He’d waited on the side lines until Zartear dismissed the man with their horses and assumed the Nathanael would help him support Avyanna up to their room. He gentle lifted Avyanna’s arm from his shoulder, stepping away with that oh-so-annoying grin upon his lips, and let out two sharp, short whistles. The three steeds stopped in their tracks, glaring stubbornly at the bar-keep as he tried to pull on their reins to make them move.

“No offense,” he said quickly to the stocky man before returning his attention to Zartear. “but I don’t feel comfortable allowing him to tend to the horses. I will unsaddle them and bring our things up to the room.” He laid a protective hand upon one of the packs Moira carried, eyes a glitter with strange mischief. Although the inn keeper glared at him, obviously having taken much offense to his comment, he moved to grab the reins of two of the creatures, leaving his tawny horse to follow obediently. He turned Moira and Nawat, sauntering into the stables without another word, as Sairee danced behind them with a jittery impatience of her own. The horse wasn’t ignorant; she knew a stable meant water and a brush.

“Why…” The hoarse, whispered voice came from Avyanna, eyelids fluttering as she slumped against Zartear.

Very well then, he thought, perhaps the boy would also make himself useful by sorting out some of the belongings too. He then looked down on Avyanna, now holding her somewhat awkwardly by the armpits, incoherent muttering coming from her lips. Why? Why what?

Picking her body up properly so it'd be less like dragging away a corpse, now with her cradled in his arms he searched his way up through the inn. Passing the rooms, they seemed very small and minimally furnished with simple shutters, a bed or two and insect-ridden rugs. This wasn't a place for a night or two spent in luxury, in fact, it seemed more like a temporary safe-keep for thieves and rogues.
Finally coming to the given room, Zartear forced the door open with the side of his shoulder to find it was no better than the others. There was the masters bed opposite from the wall with rickety shutters, and smaller one, probably a child's in the corner. Just about pulling back the musty blanket while holding Avyanna he was then relieved to finally lay the body down on the harsh straw mattress. Pulling the blanket back over, he then looked at her face with puzzlement, how long did she need?

"Oh please...You can't possibly pretend to still be asleep can you?" He spoke out loud, half hoping for an actual response. Whatever happened to her for now, he had to prepare himself to go out into the town and sort a few things out but that didn't stop him waiting for another minute or two to see if anything about her changed. "You're quite the stubborn witch aren't you?" Lackluster showing in his voice.

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While Zartear had his one sided conversation, Nathanael moved each of the horses into separate stalls and began his work of removing the saddles or packs. He paid more attention to Nawat, knowing the horse had been exceptionally uncomfortable having to carry an unfamiliar rider for as long as he had. If Avyanna’s scent hadn’t been so near at the time, Nathanael knew the devoted war horse probably would have thrown the man from his back at every attempt to ride. Avyanna had trained the horse well and treated him with the utmost care, he’d never gone hungry or been ridden to a breaking point; even an animal knew there was simply no honour in betraying such a warm handler.

Giving Nawat a bucket of crushed oats he’d found in the corner of the stable, he moved on to help his own Sairee, drying her damp hair beneath the saddle. He cooed quietly as she whinnied he ran a brush over her. Once Avyanna was awake and traveling with them once again, he was afraid of how Moira would take to Zartear riding her. She, like Nawat, had come from well bred war horses, but she had not been trained as heartily in the trade. She’d been wild much too long to be allowed in to battle. They’d been about to put her out of this world when Avyanna and Nathanael had come along. It was easy not to break the horse’s spirit, but instead to let her wear out her energy each day by making herself useful with heavy burdens. Mayhap it wouldn’t be so bad…

The pouch tied to Avyanna’s palm jingled softly as her fingers twitched unconsciously, silence the only reply that Zartear got. In the void of her dreams, she realized that she could heard someone speaking off in the distance, quietly calling her a stubborn witch who was faking her ailment. She willed herself to wake up, now that her inward battle was done, but nothing happened for several moments. Something else even farther in the darkness that seemed to envelope her forever, whispered…

/”I’ll kill him… You know it will happen. Eventually, his blood will spill hot over your fingers and you will taste his death…”/

She shot up straight from her position on the bed, brow coated in a cold sweat and mouth open to scream. Quickly biting down on her tongue, she willed herself to calmly access the situation. Her memory said that her last moments had been in the forest above the ravine, but the smells of rotted wood and muddied ale that answered told her that wasn’t the case anymore. A wound on the back of her head throbbed, the ringing in her ears almost causing her to miss the sound of someone breathing beside the bed—she was sitting on a harsh mattress—to her right.

Her fingers pried the bandages around her eyes as she spoke.
“Zartear?” her voice was quiet, but she held back the mortification she felt at the man still being there. She had half expected to wake up and find that he had abandoned them on their quest.

Zartear instinctively took a step back right away, he hadn't expected his words to be quite /so/ effective. But then again, he thought it wasn't that at all, the look engraved on her face was riddled with a cold fear, mouth agape her voice then coming oddly softly, saying his name.
He didn't say anything for a while, stopped in thought. She seemed reverted to normal but now understood the fragility of her state, he wasn't going to try and tip the balance.

"Yes...And to put your mind at ease, you have only just woken up after two days or so...We're in Ferul. In fact, you've only been lying there some minutes." Recollecting more he then added, "Nathanael is stabling the horses too, you'll see him soon enough." Part of him wanted to seriously interrogate her about what had brought on that insane turn of blood-rage but it might be too soon, instead he'd have to behave somewhat compassionate. "Though your awakening wasn't quite so calm, was something troubling you...You seem quite shaken." He spoke, low and calmly, though internally, the blankness of his real feelings sucked away all of the meaning in words.

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Avyanna simmered down enough to force a lop-sided smile, but soon blocked the gesture as she turned her back on Zartear and planted her feet to the opposite side of the bed from where he stood. Her face hidden from him she probed the cloth he had tied—though she assumed the wrap had come from Nathanael—around her face. There was no reason to think otherwise. She found where it was bound just behind her ear, catching it with her fingernail so it came loose and fell uselessly into her lap. Avyanna ran a hand haphazardly through her hair to remove the creases long-term constraint had caused; doing it more out of a need to move anxious muscles than out of any care for her appearance.

“I’m quite alright.” She answered lightly, voice becoming less hoarse as she stretched her vocal cords. Leaning forward on her elbows, she rubbed her exposed eyes with the heels of her palms. “I am both glad and surprised to hear that you two made it so far with having to carry my dead weight around. I am very sorry, though, that you had to do so in the first place. Rest assured that it won’t happen again.”

She paused to clear her throat and her mind as she contemplated the location of Ferul on a mental map of the area that she had committed to memory several days before. “Ferul, hm? So, we are a little off track, but if I remember correctly the Ash Forest continues on only a little South-West of here. Do you know exactly where on Ash Mountain we have to enter to get into the depths of our giant?”

The sudden conversation shift to the matter of their quest was enough of a sign that she simply did not want to talk about what had happened before. At least, not at that moment. The feelings of malice and slaughter were still too fresh on her mind for it to be a safe conversation. Instead, she switched her thoughts to the increasing ache in her back. Being hunched over made her wonder just /how/ they had transported her for such a distance. She felt as if she’d ridden a horse for two days straight, and she didn’t doubt that was probably the case. Straightening, she placed both hands in the middle of her spine and pushed there as she arched her back to produce several large, audible cracks. She sighed in deep relief and relaxed back onto her elbows again.

"Indeed, we are off course somewhat but I thought perhaps there was more to be had here...The town is one of a few closest to the Ash Mountains, the mountains themselves are rumoured to only have a few small villages of barbaric pagans in them...So maybe some leads for information can be had on the weapon in this town...Perhaps it's in the folklore." Zartear nodded once slowly,

"It is good that you are well again, though you must rest further, we will be leaving this town soon enough and the journey from here on up further north surrounding the Ash mountains isn't going to be easy...Much of it is open waste-land, something of a bone-yard too from the war of forty years ago...But there is spatterings of woodland here and there.
The opening to the Ash Mountains is in the far north west from here, had we not detoured we might have gone the western route and then had to head east, but civilization is bare there. We aren't aware of what faces us, so the later we can prepare before entering the mountains themselves the better. I am sure you've heard of their treacherous reputation..."
All the while explaining their plan of action he held back the inconvenience he felt for her having evaded his question, but would not press it more. Rather, wait for a better time.

Then lastly he added,
"But first, the leads. Later tonight you'll find me out for a leisurely drink in the town, there's always somebody there who has more knowledge than sense..." Did Zartear even have time for leisure, even when it had some purpose? The sly grin on his face said that apparently, he did, if not the savory kind.

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Avyanna nodded while he spoke, making notes on her mental map. As spiteful as Zartear seemed towards the “Pagan” civilizations he talked about, she couldn’t help but muse that there might be a little more help to be had from those "Pagans" than he thought. It would also be safe to say that curiosity drove her intentions faster than information about the weapon they sought. She would have to plan a quiet side trip there perhaps while he was resting or when there was enough to keep him busy and distracted from her. She was sure that Nathanael would be of some assistance if she explained her idea to the boy once they reached the mountains. Satisfied with herself and what Zartear had said, she stood and turned to face him. There was the faint cloth again, clinging desperately to her skin and underneath her hair.

She mirrored his smirk and was about to say something when Nathanael walked into the room, placing three brown leather packs on the bed and one emerald, weather treated bag—the same one Zartear had found the bandages in. He grinned at his companion and put both hands on his hips.

“What’s this I heard about getting something to drink? I am parched!” he exclaimed joyfully, looking less winded from his hard work at the mention of a tavern. Avyanna chuckled softly and shook her head. Despite his age appearance, Nathanael could drink any man under the table and never so much as hiccup or slur his words. Though, it would be fairly interesting to see how the towns people would react to him entering the tavern, let alone drinking all the alcohol that she knew he would.

“I could definitely use some food,” She placed a hand over her stomach to stifle the sound of its protests, a low grumble coming from beneath her fingers. Being passed out for two days had an effect not only on her muscles and mind, but on her empty belly as well. She would be better off with a good meal and much more prepared for traveling.

Zartear couldn't help but snigger to himself, looking at the innocent-faced boy proclaiming he wanted a drink, especially considering the demographic of such a place...Burly men and busty wenches and here was the young fair haired boy asking for his own share of ale.
"I see you've started him young then." He commented, "But I don't want the boy rendered useless within an hour of him stepping foot into a tavern," Zartear said, more sternly. "But that is all for later, as you say, it would be good to eat for now."
Many inns supplied decent enough food cooked in-house, but Zartear decided he would much sooner avoid the greasy fingers of the rotund Inn-keeper here...Plus, he didn't particularly fancy the mans intrusive company "Then we shall go now, besides which, we can maybe find out more about Ferul." He then spoke, eyes half narrowed and his expression seeming aloof, "But please...don't draw any attention to yourself boy." That mischievous grin that Zartear was growing more tolerant of still seemed to betray a future mishap coming their way and even with the proof he'd seen of the boy's use, there remained doubt.

Removing the charred stick that made up his weapon he whispered a few of the power-words and the slippery dark-magic metal that formed his armour melted away from his body and clustered toward it, somehow, packing itself tightly and lightly until the stick had grow to no more than one foot so it now looked like a blackened and gnarled femur bone of an animal.
Replacing it lightly under his belt, Zartear now aside from his bizarrely pale foreign complexion and stony eyes with the sharply contrasting black hair...could have now been an ordinary man. His regular clothes it seemed were anything but showy, if only because the man rarely was out of his armour. This was one of those strange occasions when he wasn't actually on a slayer's mission and needed to seem like your average Joe. A very muted grey tunic with similarly "coloured" pants and dark brown leather boots, furred on the inside...Add to that the pack that went everywhere at his side and the bizarre char-stick that looked like nothing more than a good luck charm... and he appeared like your typical traveler.

Pulling up the thick black hood of his cloak he looked to them both, it was probably wisest even in this daylight hour...He didn't want his face to become anything known, Ferul apart from it's regular visiting merchants had few true wanderers and it would be dire for any news to catch round of them being the remnants of the party sent by the Cinder Kingdom.
Breaking the silence created Zartear said, dark irony in his voice but a subtle pointer, should anybody ask after them, "Well? Shall we be going then my lady?" And so Zartear made his way out through the scarcely intact wooden door.

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[Sorry! It's all fluffy and ridiculous. x3 My Muse pooped out on me half way through getting the Setting up for the Silent Plot. It's being a jerk now. D=]

Avyanna and Nathanael both followed him out rather enthusiastically—Nathanael more so than his companion as her only interest at that point was the food. [-pushes fast forward button- x3] They wandered through the streets for some time before happening upon what was to be assumed as the best tavern in town, which wasn’t much considering the prosperity of a town so close to the damned Ash Mountains. Being one of the nicest signs in town, the image of a Dove flying against a painted black background, white letters spelled out “The Dancing Dove” beneath the bird’s feet. It was a two story building made of aged wood with milky glassed windows—the clear crystal being much more expensive—framed by faded shutters that were wide open to the bright afternoon.

Nathanael paused just before they came within a few feet of the door and placed a hand on Avyanna’s shoulder. The grin upon his face, if possible, seemed to grow as he turned to face her.

“You know, Avyanna…” He started, voice silky and warm. “It would probably be a whole lot easier getting the information we need if you were… changed.” The emphasis on the word made Avyanna sigh and shake her head, but the gesture wasn’t in reply to him, but in exhaustion. As exhausted as she was from the lack of food, the time spent passed out on the back of a horse had easily replenished the energy spent during their two day old battle.

Finally, she shrugged. “Then you get to explain to basics to our friend here.” She turned to slide inconspicuously into the shadows of an alley next to the Dancing Dove and disappeared into the darkness.

Nathanael glanced sidelong at Zartear without his grin ever wavering. “Well then, friend, there isn’t much to explain. You will see what I’m talking about when she comes back, but there are a few… things you should know. As difficult as it is to keep your hands off her,” he quickly gave the man a wink before continuing. “I would not recommend making any contact with Avyanna unless absolutely necessary. The drunks in there aren’t so easy to convince. So, again, as hard as it is, we’ll need you to play the protective traveling companion so they will keep their hands to themselves. I would do it personally, but you are a bit more menacing than I.”

“I should have just told him myself, you cove. I forget how you complicate things.” Avyanna muttered as she walked back into the light.

No one who didn’t know her voice or hadn’t seen her walk into the alley would never have known it was the same woman. Where her hair had been a gentle russet-gold, it was now a brilliant red tinted a shimmering gold; the only similarity was the length and natural waves. The cloth seemed to have been lost and now there were round, doe-eyes of a deep seducing emerald settled just above the same sharp cheek bones, but a now rounded chin where it should have been prominent and stubborn. She was now adorned with a small, delicate nose that were still dotted with very, very faint freckles upon fair skin.

A long sleeved, thin gossamer shirt of dark goldenrod barely stayed upon her shoulders, appearing as if they might slip if it weren’t for the strapless, black bodice that hugged tight and suggestively around a small waist and wide hips. A billowing skirt of the same colour and flimsy material flowered to the ground, hiding delicate dress boots fitted to a woman of expensive taste, but worn enough to explain that she didn’t have the coin to tend her shopping habits.

The remodeled Avyanna shrugged delicate shoulders and glanced up at Zartear—it also appeared that she had lost about half a foot in height—through thick eyelashes. Plump, cherubic lips turned into a strangely familiar lop-sided smirk.

“Shall we go for a drink, mi’lord?” Her tone was terribly sarcastic. One good turn deserves another.

Having come quite a way into the town, they had now stopped short of the fanciful tavern as Zartear noted the boy speak to Avyanna. She seemed to his eyes mildly exasperated by this, though she did not disagree with him at all.
It was then Nathanael explained to him and he had to chuckle a bit, Zartear was no stranger to the effect a beautiful woman had on a weak-spirited man, or the vulnerability the girls themselves presented to the men. Indeed, when he was still in his middle teenage years he'd made several mistakes on account of the lecherous gypsy girls. What parallels could Nathanael be trying to draw? It amused him, anyway.

Zartear blinked, returning from the alleyway, he could already see just why he was going to have to keep the to-be-drunks in check. Her attire suggested she was something of a prowler, one with good taste...but not above the hopes of roaming hands.
"Yes we shall, if only you might be my traveling companion instead of that dreadful witch...." He added, sparring with the words she countered his with...
Linking loosely his arm and hers with Nathanael close by the three of them appeared to be an odd group. Zartear couldn't justify reasonably to anybody that they could all be related, they all simply appeared too different, unless he also wanted to imply their "family" tended towards ill morals with plenty of illegitimates, that maybe he was Avyanna's half brother and Nathanael was his nephew.

There was no use for it, Zartear would have to simply appear a demure traveler that had struck it lucky at some point with the woman on his arm.
Nathanael had warned him to protect her from straying hands, but the point would be lost altogether if he intimidated the men to the point of not even feeling they could approach her.

Making his way into the Dancing Dove he could see, even if Ferul's best tavern wasn't particularly wealthy, there was a level of finery that put it above the other places. Well furnished and well lit with many candles all around (the room itself was otherwise a darker place) it had a warm and inviting feel. Well, the room did. The nobles that resided in it didn't seem the friendly type, some hidden away in corners by themselves, sober and somber, others in their tighter groups and the casual-regulars latched onto the bar, eyes on the barkeep, as if there was no other way to be, those were the louder ones generous mugs of ale held between them, sometimes wine, the true rich-mans drink.

So in truth, Zartear appeared completely out of place, compared to these "better-off" men he was a mere peasant with eccentric belongings such as that burnt bone hanging from the side of his belt.
He inwardly smiled, hearing all their whispery misgivings and cocky insults as he and Avyanna walked toward the bar their gleaming eyes looking at the newcomers with the kind a person has when they've found a new source of entertainment, to mock or to grope? Probably both, the tavern was filled almost exclusively with regulars,and when they saw Nathanael another ripple of snickers went round.

His voice calm with nonchalance, but body language implying he wasn't totally secure with the leering eyes of the groups on them he made his orders,
"3 ales and 3 pottage for us if you will..." The bartender seemed surprised, even if taverns were not known for serving food, for a visitor to this tavern that was an unusually poor meal but he didn't say anything to it, instead asking about the ale.
"Ah, and that'll be..." Zartear finished it for him before he did,
"The cheapest you have, yes." The man nodded again, holding back his judgments, if only verbally because the look said it all.

Turning away from the bar he lead Avyanna and Nathanael over to a table left alone on a flat of windowless-wall, but well exposed to the rest of the room.
He whispered, unseen, to Avyanna and Naphanael.
"And at some point we'll have to try and befriend them...For now we'll eat."

Guest

Avyanna chanced a wink at the bartender just before they turned to walk to their table, earning a knowing smile from the middle aged man. Sweeping her skirts carefully beneath her legs as she sat, she leaned forward on her elbows—knowing well that the gesture was suggestive at the right angle—and grinned as she glanced around at the men she thought had the most potential for information. Without losing her light hearted demeanor, she whispered back to Zartear, the accent gone from her voice replaced with the sweeter accent of a woman who had spoke Common all her life.

“Seems a good enough plan to me,” She nodded and went quiet as the bartender personally brought over their tankards of ale instead of bidding on of the usual tavern wenches to do their work. Handing Avyanna her drink first, he barely glanced at the other two as he set their drinks idly aside.

“Your food will be along shortly,” he explained absent-mindedly. Avyanna offered him a gentle smile before returning her attention suddenly to Zartear, silently dismissing her admirer. He wandered off ever the picture of a man who pretended he was not affected by being blown off. It wasn’t long before he returned with the portage, seemingly trying to ignore the woman as he served them their bowls. He even tried to seem uninterested when Avyanna asked for a small portion of honey to put on her food, but it was hard not to notice how quickly he left and returned with her request. Again, she turned to her companions without another word to the man and offered them both a bit of the sweet treat.

When the bartender had left, she slumped over to apply her honey to the lumpy soup, rolling her wide eyes. “I forgot how tiring this flirting game is… I shall die of stupidity before we get the information we need.”

Nathanael had only grinned the whole time, hands folded behind his head as he reclined into wooden chair as if it were the most comfy place to sit in the World. As much as Avyanna whined, he knew she was good at the acting such a role called for and would do it without falter because it was necessary.

Zartear smiled weakly, so long as she played her role well, then there was nothing to be worried about, Nathanael seemed quite certain of it as he was nestled into the back of the chair quite comfortably like a lounge cat. So far the flirting seemed to have worked, there was a slight fluster in the bartender who was now all too eager to serve them, well, the golden-red haired woman sitting opposite him at least. In fact the bartender barely regarded Nathanael or himself.

Beginning to eat the pottage in front of him he was suddenly aware how truly hungry he was, and soon didn't even have to pretend to eat like a peasant to match his clothes as he was wolfing down the food without much effort at all, the group of nobles looking on him with disdain. Zartear was well aware, but played the role of an ignorant peasant well.
The trick was making them all believe he was a little bit "slow" and certainly inferior to them but all the while not offend them. It was then he was thinking of trying to improvise to draw the attention of one to "start work" on them, but as it would happen, they gave him all he needed.

Subtlety be damned, the cockiest of them strode over...Ordinarily a peasant would never draw his attention, but the odd group before him seemed to be silently mocking him and the well-off establishment with their mere presence and he disliked it. Hiding his thoughts he spoke,
"And what brings this good family to Ferul?" his tone was as if his arms were wide open, greeting them in a friendly way.
Oh so that's how it was to be? The nobleman was wading in deep already questioning the trio.

"We're simple travelers m'lord..." Zartear paused to look at the Nobleman's face then gesturing to his "wife" and to his "child" even though he had considered earlier it might not be so convincing, he sensed nothing else might satisfy the man's curiosity. "This is m'lady Vira and this is m'boy Nathan." He returned a tinny smile of his own out stretching a hand to the nobleman who reluctantly shook it.

"Lord Kanth." The nobleman replied curtly, "It's always good to see a new face if only for a day." The jab was there and the air grew tense as the man then glanced to Avyanna and Nathanael. Breaking off that the man then said, "Your family are well kept, a good boy and beautiful woman no?" Even though it was obviously rude to speak like this in their presence, and ordinarily a person might take offense Zartear played the stupid role all the same.
"Well m'lord I can't disagree can I? M'lady might not like it."
"Lord Kanth" chuckled and looked to Avyanna his eyes searching out for her attention, Lord Kanth's group of drinkers watching on with restrained grins painted on their waxy ageing faces.

Guest

[I'm soooooo sorry. x3 You'll see why. I just couldn't help myself! -gigglesnort-]

Ever the picture of the modest wife, Avyanna blushed as she fluttered her eyelashes, hand brushing her flushed cheek to move a stray of her long hair. “Fair true, my love. What flattery from such a noble gentleman! Surely a lowly woman like me is not worthy!” The words flowed as easily as paint on an easel, painting quite a flirtatious picture while “Vira” glanced sidelong at the Lord Kanth. The excellent portrait of an actress in a band playing the role of her life for the King himself.

Leaning forward just enough to still seem innocent, but enough to give Kanth a view he would enjoy, she smiled up at him glad to catch his attention. Nathanael had just finished his portion of ale and was now moving on to work at Avyanna’s tankard. He knew the woman didn’t have a taste for liquor, so there was no sense in letting it sit idle on the table. She was also glad that the boy decided to keep his mouth shut. With a quick tongue and an ever quicker temper, she knew he wasn’t as easy to act as she was.

“He speaks the truth, mi’lord. We are but simple travelers on the way to the capitol, finding our way up from being simple country tanners. Unfortunately, it seems we have made the wrong turn somewhere and ended up in some terrible forest!” She lost her blush, quickly replacing it with exasperated fear, and placed long, suggestive fingers across the cleavage above the hem of her shirt. “We were lucky to get out alive, thanks to my strong, amazing Ixas.” Pausing to glance lovely at Zartear with a wrinkled nose, she wasted no time dancing around the nobleman’s wits and returned her gaze at him.

“It seems a horrible place, that Forest. And the Ash Mountain must be equally dreadful! I can only imagine the stories about those places!”

Zartear kept himself to himself, being quiet in their brief exchange, pretending to be simply politely interested, but rather, he was observing how she acted. The view from this side of the table wasn't too bad either, though more eye-catching was the pace at which Nathanael was getting through the ale and Zartear found himself giving the boy a subtle, sideways scowl of disapproval. Making a point of pulling the mug closer to himself.

It was all going well and she seemed to have engaged the man's interest, Vira was playing coyly, Nathan appeared like an overexcited little boy with the ale and Ixas was....
...Ixas? It hit Zartear square between the eyes and for a slice of a second his expression might have shown a glint of wildness, a madness in the eye, but for the sake of the present moment he held back his sudden wave of...recognition. Zartear now focused with the stare of a hawk on Avyanna, to the Lord he might appear simply as a slightly jealous husband, but every fibre of him demanded an answer now.

How did this witch know of Ixas? Was it merely a name she had thought of right then or had the vicious wench pried into the deepest part of his mind? All these possible connections crackled inside his head.
Absolutely nobody knew of his family....If she knew of this what else could she see....The inklings of paranoia wormed their way into his brain.
Zartear mentally scolded himself, this was ridiculous, there was nothing to worry about. She had to have thought of it right then...But the other half of him wanted to know how the woman had conjured a name with it's origins based firmly in Surahnian culture. His hateful suspiciousness of the woman had slowly been deepening with each hour and this was simply fuel to the fire.
Thinking better of it, he took a hefty glug of the ale before him, lest his realization taint the atmosphere...

Lord Kanth smiled quite smugly, the wife's mock-innocence compelled him to keep her company, besides which, the change of scenery was a good change in his books and he watched her husband's nature sour a little from the opposite side of the table. Oh yes, he was enjoying this. The fool that he was.
"Ah well you've heard right then M'lady Vira, all sorts of things happen in those terrible, terrible places..." His voice was serious but the smugness seemed to stay, "Of course, it's nothing that us of the Ashen Guard can't deal with, as long as we are within the woodland no criminal is safe..." The man was exaggerating, technically, Lord Kanth was only vaguely connected to the elite Ashen Guard and his body left much to be desired to reach that level of perfection.

Zartear noted how much of a poor liar the noble was, at the moment he was simply interested in getting on the level with "Vira" but he would have to find a way to encourage the man to speak less hot air and more meaning.
Ixas He thought, the word like a pellet of poison leaving bitterness in his mouth. He was keen to spit it out, but found that it wouldn't leave.

Guest

Nathanael was quick to catch the lie before the noble had even finished his sentence, but he hadn’t needed his talents to notice. A blind man would have been able to hear the falsehood in what he said. His eyes snapped over at the sudden change in Zartear and almost visibly shied away from the heat the seeped off the man. For anyone with the Sight, it wasn’t hard to see the man’s usually pale aura radiate like crimson blood tangled with tendrils of gray confusion. Normally, even to someone as Gifted as Nathanael, it was difficult to see the smallest of emotions that Zartear had. The boy had begun to think that the man just didn’t have any feelings, but this certainly proved him wrong.

Shifting back in his calmed, grinning position, Nathanael continued to watch Avyanna like he hadn’t even noticed Zartear. Despite that he took a moment to glance at the man out of the corner of his eye once in a while to make sure he hadn’t exploded with the impact of rage.

If Avyanna detected the shift if Zartear’s mood, she paid it no mind and continued to eye the man suggestively. At this point, if she played her cards right, Lord Kanth would tell her anything she wanted to hear. She leaned back slightly to take away the noble’s kind view, but kept her hand on her chest with mock surprise. Her eyes sparkled with what one would think was admiration. Really, she was pretty much disgusted with the situation and ready to be done with it. If there weren’t so many people around she would be more inclined to painfully torture the information out of him… But life was cruel.

“Then you must know all sorts of things about them! I do love a good story…” She blushed and smoothed her skirts in what seemed to be a nervous habit. “I once heard something about the mountain having gold mine inside or somewhat like that. Is it true?”

Lord Kanth chuckled in the way men do when women make silly comments. Leaning forward with his hands on the table, he mourned the view of her lovely… dress from before. “No, miss. You heard right about the treasure in the mountain, but t’is no gold or coin. Rather, I’ve heard from the mountain rats that it’s a jewel of some sort. Something that was dug up by some mad King from the North a few centuries ago. He ended up putting it back from whence he found it, but the worst part…” He squinted his eyes over a smirk to add terrible dramatic effect over the pause in his story. “As I heard it, he buried himself alive with the jem. Ain’t that what they told us, boys?”

He called over his shoulder to the table where his fellow nobles sat. Glad to be included in the conversation, they all shouted agreements and nodded vigorously.

“Oh my!” Avyanna exclaimed, leaning forward again to reward the horrible man, and covered her both with both hands. “That sounds just awful!”

Even if his thoughts were more scattered than he would like, Zartear still managed to find the pathetic humour in how easily and expertly Avyanna had coaxed the man into tale-telling. He also noted how the stupid simplicity of the man could be seen, how he didn't even know to mask his face as he quite obviously ogled Vira. Zartear's expression was impatient as he rose from the table behaving with the "I've had quite enough of this" motion. Zartear wanted nothing more than to be out of here and clear the disturbance from his usually resolute mind. They had all they needed to know and while he knew only vague legends, he had told them enough. There was nothing more to be pulled from the imbecile.

"Nathan, Vira." He said with an etch of sharpness. Zartear while a very good actor was still a little disconcerted, and perhaps a fragment of that sharpness was from the bubbling of the questions in him. The moment the time was right he would be upon the deceptive pair and then it'd be his turn to pluck answers from their lips.
Or, he reasoned with himself, my instincts betray me.

Looking to Naphanael then Avyanna he nodded and made as if to leave the tavern disgruntled. Which wasn't too hard to pretend to do and he wasted no time on formalities with the straw brained "Lord Kanth"

Not searching back behind him, he spoke to the clear night air pleased for it's freshness in his mouth. "You've played good witch-woman and you too, boy." Zartear pondered their next line of action, they had to be sure they'd taken all they could from this brief stop.
It was odd how his uncertainty mingled with his hatred of it and Zartear couldn't hope to understand it all, he wasn't used to having something free from his objectivity when it came to his own head.
"We shall visit Ferul's temple." He declared, though his voice wasn't quite so loud or pronounced as it usually was, but rather like a softer lull on the night air, "Tavern fools aside, the temples can at least prepare us for the barbarians ahead. It is a certainty that the priests will know of them and the mountains...Being sacred to these people and all." Though Zartear also knew fully well nobody would be in the temple at this hour, timing the visit there just so. Perhaps they knew that too but would oblige.

Not only would there be money to be found ( Zartear was far and beyond the childish concept of "Honour") but likely other myths too, which was the way of these small superstitious towns. Sometimes by a stroke of good luck, the myths had a bone of truth in them like Lord Kanth's story might too when the time came.
Zartear began walking on the flagstones, away from the tavern, speaking wistfully to the foosteps he knew would follow him, a dangerous lilt of quietness coated his words. "When we arrive at the temple, I wish to speak with you both...We haven't truly been able to speak with eachother yet have we?"

Guest

Avyanna stood as the obedient wife when Zartear said he name, giving Lord Kanth a quick, apologetic curtsy that didn’t allow him the view he would have liked. She didn’t need to sweeten the deal for him anymore, thank the Gods, so she wasn’t going to expose herself to his indecencies. He raised his eyes in disappoint as it seemed all his pomp and flaunt had gone unnoticed by the woman. Arrogant as he was, it seemed he had actually expected the married gal to tumble into his bed behind her husband’s back. Silly man.

“I’m sorry, mi’lord, but it seems mine husband is ready to leave. It was a pleasure to have met you!” She said with a flicker of her eyelashes. Turning, she left the tavern with a brief glance at Nathanael. She slid into the alley way once more to shed her illusion as she awaited the boy. He was slower at leaving, a bit more occupied with finishing off Avyanna’s ale than with following his companions. He set down the tankard with a satisfied sigh and offered the Lord a grinning wink just before shimmying out from behind the table. Long strides helped him to catch up with Zartear just as he began to talk—seemingly to the people he assumed would follow like puppies—and was soon joined by the Avyanna they knew. They fell in step behind him, keeping a few feet of air open.

Her lopsided grin quickly turned into a deep frown as she listened. “I’m no witch, assassin, so it would be much appreciated if you refrained from calling me that.” She checked the several packs around her belt purely out of habit, then rubbed her palms against the breeches over her thighs. To anyone else, it would look be a reminder of the nervous twitch she had in the Tavern, but to Nathanael it was something completely different. They exchanged a concerned look when Zartear mentioned the temple. At any other time of day, it would seem an extremely brilliant plan. In the middle of the night… The pair weren’t quite sure what he was getting at… Talking? This man, who had pressured them to get moving on the road again, wanted to stop and chat?

Nathanael raised his eyebrows while he moved to stare at the Zartear’s back. The vermillion aura had softened with a bit more gray, but he was still very much fuming. He reminded himself of how quickly a man could dispatch of something or someone for their own means and shoved his hands in his breech pockets. The normally brilliant look on his face suddenly shifted to a darker, more serious tone. There was nothing that felt right about this situation.

They shared words of agreement, quiet, but sounding sure and unchanged. As silence blanketed their group again, they came upon a large, white marble building that stuck out like a pearl amongst all the wooden/ugly stoned building. It has no roof, to keep open to the night sky and the brisk air that flowed down in drafts from their honour mountain. Where there should have been a door there was only a rather large, rectangle—big enough to fit four men should to shoulder through the opening—cut into the stone. Long burning incense and scorched leaves flowed through the make shift door and into the evening air, inviting the three as they entered the pristine chapel.

Once inside, it was easy to see why there was no roof. Just behind the altar at the end of the room was a rather large tree, one to match the foliage that grew in the ash forest. It appeared that the priests who came before had built the temple around what had to have been a sapling in their time. The tree was now gigantic and took up most of the room with its spinning roots. There was no floor either, only ground. A temple of only walls… there was no telling why the religious leaders had decided on simplicity, leaving their altar and people open to the elements. Two openings in the walls on either side of the room were closed with emerald drapes that hung to the floor. A bed roll and blanket lay askew near the entrance where the group stood, maybe belonging to an advocate or novice of the church.

Nathanael scanned the room for whoever had been sleeping there, eyeing the other two doors with suspicion. Avyanna, however, took her time to respect the place by removing her boots and stockings, wiggling bare toes in the surprisingly warm dirt as she put her things outside of the temple. Both of them straightened to watch their companion with suspicious eyes, appearing as if cautious lions ready to maul the hand that would feed them. The boy quickly replaced his grin easily to give the allure that everything was normal, keeping his hands in his pockets. The woman, simply waited.

On reaching the temple it became immediately obvious to Zartear where the people of Ferul had been putting all their trade income. The pearly white marble seemed to have a silky halo of radiance on it's finely polished body, the architecture was strangely royal and it seemed out of place from all the comparably run down buildings, humbled beside it's strong and simple magnificence.
Seeing the tree reaching high into the night sky, he then saw the marble walls that cascaded in an arc around it. With the heady but sensuous smell of fine incense whispering through the air and then the beauty of the temple inside itself, one couldn't help but be entranced.
Unless you were Zartear and had every intention of looting the building, bloated in it's wealth.

There were other issues on his mind though and with his double edged intentions, he too still paid his "respects" to the temple and removed his boots, his feet meeting the sharp cold of fragmented marble floor interspersed with ancient roots and soil in other parts, his skin almost as white as the stone he stood on yet for all he appeared to be; a man that looked like he belonged to the temple, here of a night to pray for the next day, Zartear had malice on his mind. Well, if it was needed. Answers first.

Conscious of any resident monks, he spoke quietly, though not a whisper. It didn't matter either way, silencing the mouth of somebody that learnt too much was, though messy, easy enough.
Zartear approached the sacred tree, kneeling before it in customary worship, though keeping his posture upright. "I have a question for you. That name, it's quite an important one, really." He sighed a little, hands clasped together underneath his chin, eyes closed, it was hard to tell if he was approaching the tree or his companions. "Ixas..." He said, as if the word confused him, "...Ixas...Such a strange name for this region wouldn't you agree? It's of great coincidence too." His face twisted to a distasteful frown, "I knew an Ixas once, quite a remarkable man. Oh but why am I telling you?" He now turned back to the pair, "You'd know all about that wouldn't you? I wish no evil on my fellow, questors but I thought I'd give you a fair warning to play no further tricks. It will come to no avail and I'd hate to offend the spirit of this ancient god here before me simply because I had to put a stop to the dabbling fingers of a witch."

Once again his face softened, brows arced with kindness, a paradox to the paranoia that niggled within him. "You say you are not a witch, so show me otherwise and I'll be glad to believe." He smiled then went on, "But first to exorcise the illness between us, why did you do it?" He turned his gaze from the ever-annoying grin of Nathanael (though he was learning bit by bit to blot it out, it still nipped at him from time to time) to a straight stare to Avyanna.
Zartear wanted to see the aura of mad vermillion power in her eyes again and to slay that beast, not a mere wanderer playing coy with her boy-pet.

Guest

Nathanael watched the scene unfold in from of him like a dream suddenly shifted to a nightmare. First, things seemed ordinary enough, then sunk into strange, and now everything submersed into a horrifying reality of something bad to come. He watched Zartear closely, grin gone into shadows of a frown, calling to the hemp ropes that kept knives strapped to both of his wrists. They happily obliged in releasing their knots and the blades slipped into his palms without so much as rustling his tunic, keeping the backs of his hands towards Zartear so that neither he nor his companion would see himself armed. If this man was looking to pick a fight with Avyanna he would be found in a particularly terrible situation. He sent a prayer up to his God and many of the smaller Trickster Gods that Avyanna would be able to keep her… troubles under control.
Chancing a look at her, he wasn’t surprised to find her looking confused, but cool headed.

Her eyebrows snapped together in genuine confusion as Zartear babbled on about her being a witch and something about the name she had used. What the heck was this mot talking about? She didn’t like where he was going with this. The man appeared much too calm, too cool headed even for someone who normally shed his emotions as easily as a snake shrugged off its bothersome skin. A perfect example, Zartear was as much a snake a man. He always seemed ready to poison anyone around him if it was convenient. She stared at him like he already bared large fangs out of his pretty head, shifting her bare feet beneath her into a wider stance.

“If you had any sense, assassin, you would realize that we are travelers and visit many lands before you open your gob. If this name… Ixas…” she spat it at him with malice, but quickly regained her cool reserve as she continued. “means anything to you, then it wasn’t known to me as you might think. It’s only familiar because we ran across rumours of the name a few months back before we took this Gods cursed quest. It seemed to suit my purpose when I thought of it for our rouse back there.” Suddenly, the woman thought of the large, ebony box back with their things at the tavern and wished that she had thought to bring the swords in them with her. Feeling naked, she took some comfort in knowing her fickle friend would be well armed with countless knives.

“As for being a witch, what would you have me do? You already know that I have some power, but don’t you suppose that if I had the will that I would have rid of you some time ago? Put some strange curse on you when you first insulted us?” Her finger flittered in the air to mock some sort of spell casting, face riddled with impatience. They were here to collect information and be on their way. Any more time spent away from their journey might mean time for any other treasure hunters the Cinder Kingdom hired to catch up on the weapon. “I would like to, if it were possible. I’d love to rid you of some of your more useless appendages.” She smirked with raised eyebrows, not having to look at his breeches to give him the hint of what she was talking about.

Zartear, oddly, didn't interrupt the witch as she spoke, rather a rueful face listened calmly even if he felt agitated by her persistent refusal to speak the truth of which he was convinced.
"Ah and so you see, it is my sense that won't allow me to allow you go unchallenged on this. It is precisely as you say, you are a wanderer and this coincidence with this particular name bothers me." Zartear all the while ignored Nathanael, whatever he made of this he felt the boy somehow less key to the problem he faced.

Zartear's aggravatingly good natured demeanor cracked as a small chortle escaped him, eyes narrowed with amusement. "You be rid of me? My oh my this is quite something isn't it? Such irony..." He rose to his feet again, respectfulness be damned, he leaned back on the tree. As if challenging her, by daring to defile a shrine he placed himself above even holy ones, to make her act as she said. But this was all wasted breath between them, neither giving an inch and he concluded to leave it a while longer. Zartear hated having to wait for what he wanted, but patience had become a necessity all the same. Perhaps the timing would be better in the future. Not least because a temple was no place to rouse troubles. On her final words though the obvious arrogance then mixed with a suggestive smirk, "Oh, my lady all you had to do was ask! But all good things in time eh?"

Stepping forward to them both, stretching his arms out in front of him, fingers flexed, he took a moment to look for the passage leading off to a separate "atrium" of the temple, if it could be called that. "Well, I think that's enough play talk for a year, now want to make yourselves useful?" He turned away one arm showing them the arc to the other "room" this plunder would likely last them beyond an entire journey quite easily. Artifacts even further, everything was to be smooth where gold pieces were concerned.

"Who's to say even more can't be found? Just as I said...all types of myths are in these temples."
For once he'd largely kept to what he said he was going to do in the temple, even if his feelings were a tangle of things beyond his grasp which was what confused him the most out of this all.

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