Chance Meeting [Kor] - Completed

"The prey was his tribute," Korvus murmured, ripping his knife from the heart. The wound closed, and the heart sat warm and almost alive. "I told you he would like you. He is not the kindest of Karmor's lords, but he knows a true follower of his ways when he sees one." Korvus sorely wished for the warm, comfortable exhaustion that Bishop had given him. So soon after experiencing that, this unwilling lethargy was all the more intolerable. He was almost glad to be swearing off of magic, in truth. He gave her a weary smile, "Let's get home before you've got to carry me back."

Korvus smiled at her questions, pleased to be the one with answers, this time. "Ghaal means mortal. It's what they call non-demons, mortal or not," he explained, sheathing his blade and setting the heart down by the fire, sitting atop the pile of furs and watching her; since seeing her body in action in more than one sense, he was starting to become used to it, and a little more. Not days ago, he wouldn't have fully understood why he had wanted her so after that night. Now, it was something he accepted, whatever the reasons might be.

He went to a corner away from where it looked like the dog did its usual business, ritual knife in hand. Once there, he stripped himself down once more and drew a cut a long his arm. Blood spilled out; thick, black, and with a consistency closer to ink than mortal effluence. With it, he made marks on the wall, both runes and pictograms, wordlessly ensuring that each line was precise and each mark was of the right size.

"Yes," Korvus said, once his markings were complete. "My seed isn't poisonous, if that's what you're worried about. My blood is what bears the corruption of my flesh. Everything else works fine, fortunately." He stood, tossing his knife and robe by his mask and approaching her. "I was warding us from intrusion. Making a beacon like that might give others the wrong idea," he explained. "What's wrong?" He realized he had ignored her questions regarding the distaste of the gods and what it is Kormok had called him, he was more concerned for her than for his answers. They would wait, and he reached a concerned hand out to place upon her bicep.

An idea came to Korvus. "Perhaps I could train you," he suggested, "To focus your mind and control the magic that Kormok has blessed you with. How does that sound?" He considered it fitting; she trains his body, he trains her mind, and both can help compensate for what the other lacks. If it meant spending more time close to her, Korvus was more than willing to hone a mind used to the simple and the direct. "That sulfurous smell is my robes, perhaps. Or the residue from Kormok, which would be attracted to my power. That I left the realm of Karmor displeased the gods, but they will come when called and accept tribute where it is given." He stretched out, yawning again and considering a nap, "Oh, yes. Val-rimatek. Sorceror-lord. He gave my power mention because I summoned him thus. I don't know how much he meant it."

"Facetious, maybe," Korvus said, chuckling. "No, I don't need magic to help you discipline yourself. All I need is your willingness to listen." She knew how to be quiet, she knew how to be still, and she knew how to focus her mind on a single thing. These things, he knew, and so teaching her this would not be near as hard as he expected teaching him the ways of the wilds would be. All the pieces were there, he just needed to help her put them together right. "I'll start teaching it to you when we go to be- well, when we go to sleep, tonight, if you've still got the energy, then."

Korvus stood. The cut on his arm still dribbled ink-like blood, but otherwise it looked as though he hadn't gotten too battered. "Will you?" Korvus teased, "I was certain you'd worn yourself out from all that noise last night. Not that I'm complaining." He glanced about. At the entrance to the cave, something sought to intrude. Nothing large, nothing threatening; truthfully, it wasn't even terribly intimidating. It was a crow, which hopped about at the entrance as though it was somewhat embarrassed about entering uninvited. Crows, not known for being excessively-well mannered, did not often do things of this fashion, but the poor creature had been drawn there by a sense of something else. Not Bishop, though it sensed her as well, but one quite close to her.

Korvus did not have time to react before the crow fluttered in, landing upon the pile of furs and gazing around. Its attentions seemed fixed on the side Korvus slept upon, hopping about until it gazed near the center. Korvus, noting this, turned a darker grey around the cheeks again. He held out an arm, and the crow dutifully landed upon his wrist. The creature hopped toward his face, and Korvus smiled. The awkward, fussy demeanor of the bird was familiar to him; he had kept such a creature with him for some time since first arriving here, and was rather pleased to see it had found him again. He pat the creature on the head and jerked his head in the direction of his mask. The crow understood, fluttering over to perch upon the beak, still gazing curiously at his master and the woman he seemed awfully eager to be close to.

The bird upturned its nose (beak, rather) at the dog, still scrutinizing this woman. It sounded like a woman at any rate, and moved like he thought one should, but he had never taken much time to understand human nuances. Korvus looked so different from most of them, anyway. He wondered, sometimes, what that man was. Korvus shook his head, "He'll want to stay by my mask. He'll also stare at you a bit to make sure you don't want to eat me. It's been some time since that was a problem, but there was an incident..." The crow couldn't quite understand what Korvus was saying, but knew enough of his tone to tell he was being mocked. He cawed indignantly, fluttering his wings in deference and huffily turning away from them both.

Korvus mockingly tapped his chin in thought, "For you? I think I'll live. Perhaps with another woman I might have misgivings, but you manage to... hold my attention, shall we say?" He grinned, "Especially if it means I get a wider purview of your skills." He flopped back onto the pile of furs, the crow turning back around to regard him imploringly. Korvus gave it a look, and it left the matter at that. Weary though he was, the day's events had been somewhat exhilarating for him.

Korvus welcomed the warmth and weight that came with her arrival; Bishop's body was still new to him in this way, and yet this closeness was the most comforting thing he had experienced in some time. "I suppose I'm thankful for small mercies. Had it not made me pale, I'd look very strange indeed." He squirmed a little at her touch, but certainly not such that he wanted her to stop. "Many. Hundreds, perhaps. I stopped counting. In Karmor, time has no meaning. I was there for some time, and years here passed differently. I do not know if I still age, but I'm not so sure if that's a good thing, anymore." He stroked her hair, "What about you?"

Korvus groaned as she teased his nipple, guiltily enjoying the sensation. "Too many," Korvus said, "I'd say enough to fill this barrow. but some of them were somewhat small." He reached over, his hand seeking vengeance as it firmly squeezed her rear. "And how many men have fallen victim to your charms?" Her actions now presented to him that he was far from her first, and he likewise appreciated it. It took as much a man who knew what to do with his cock as a woman who knew her way around one, in simplest terms, and while Korvus did have his occasional virgin and the wolfish glee that came with it, there was something to be said for one who was experienced.

Korvus was very far from used to having his nipples teased, but certainly didn't have any reason to complain. His expression was pleased, albeit edged with slight pain. "I was raised by a half-mad old warlock named Morgus Heartfeaster," he said, "He had a hiss in his voice that I think he did on purpose. So when he would call me in the morning, it would always be Eliphassssssssssssss, come down for breakfasssssssssst." His hiss was similarly contrived when he spoke Demonic, largely used to get into character more than anything, and sounded suitably ridiculous when applied to English. "Perhaps not as hardy as the northmen, no, but the man knew his art and gave me tools to be better than he." In some ways, she made him feel more like Eliphas than Korvus. Korvus was an invincible, masked monster with an insatiable appetite for both sex and destruction. Under Bishop, vying for control and her attentions and hoping to learn her ways, he did not feel very much like Korvus anymore.