The encounter with the witch

The Sarab Channel was being policed.

Not but much. In truth, not by many. It had become a hobby, ever since the ritual's end, for Lorelei to harass the passer-bys of the northern Prarie as they come down from Loranthis--or the reverse, to harass the denizens of the walled Nostvale as they moved north towards the Wytchwoods.

There was no fanfare to the policing, nor was there any true barrier that was gating travelers as they passed. The only hint that any other life existed within the little sect of the Sarab that Lorelei had chosen to be her home was her shimmering figure as she holds the Vessel of Adramelech--a strange, depraved trinket that glows with a blue flame, a beacon to all that things were about to not be alright.

As the interlopers walk, Lorelei slowly stands from her position--hunched over, vessel held in two hands and whispering all the while. Her gaze slowly shifts to the direction of whoever is to come--a small, wicked smile coming upon her face as she approaches.

"Tax, tax!" The girl cries out as she walks forth.

It's obvious the girl isn't well. Between the creeping affliction that marrs her face, she seems to be holding a flaming skull--certainly not human in origin, yet far beastlier then anything that commonly walks the mainlands. Perhaps an abomination from the depths of the marshlands where all sorts of magical contamination is prevalent?

"You're walking in my given lands!" The Sarab were a sort of contested land between Loranthis and Nostvale, with the general concensus of it being Nostvale's lands. There wasn't a known ruler beyond that of Astoria Hirano who policed the parts.

In truth, few policed the parts. That was the core of the troubles--what good was it to police a wasteland? Bandits of all sorts hide and hary travelers, generally unchecked by the powers that be due to the difficulty in routing them. Lorelei just tended to be more obvious.

"You must pay the toll. What do you have--" The girl looks over Gorandis with curious eyes, looking for much more then crowns it seems. "--what are you to give up in exchange for fair passage?"
(Lorelei)

He needed to get this under control... It was always there, ticking away. That violent, disgusting need to destroy, to consume and kill. And he was so very weak willed against it. The constant gentle murmurings, the urges. he so very much wanted to make the whispering stop, but whenever he was about to give in that image would flash before him again...

It did one hell of a job at distracting him. And now, now he had another set of eyes watching him, judging him. It should have helped, but he could almost feel the disapproval like a tangible thing. Or at least he assumed it was disapproval. He had been too afraid to strike up a conversation with the spirit after he had formed a contract...

What even was there to say? To do? What could he even talk about. The spirit remembered nothing. And there was nothing he could bring to-- his train of thought was successfully derailed by the approaching figure. It was relatively young and female and she seemed to be blathering on about something, Something Gorandis didn't entirely care for.

"What? Toll? What toll?" His voice was tired and if it could be seen it would very much be grey. From the slot in his hood that revealed the bottom of his face a dirty, unkempt beard could be seen. "This place has never had a toll before whenever I have passed through..." His head turned, as if he was listening to something whisper in his ear.

It almost looked like a nervous tick. He looked down to the skull after an apparent conversation. "That... thing, what is it? It gives my friend here a bad vibe." The man seemed to be obviously alone from the outside. But someone attuned to such things would be able to see the ties to a contracted spirit, A spirit that would perhaps be leaning over his shoulder.
(Gorandis Fester)

"My channel now does."

The problem with self-proclaimed titles were that they were only as good as they were unchallenged. In truth, it was nothing more then common banditry--taking control of an area where none can help and harassing those that cross by as they are in effect helpless.

It was a terrible tragedy of overextending an empire and having lands that could not be policed. That--or mostly the Sarab just being a notorious chore to police. Too many nooks, crannies and hidey-holes fro any common bandit to hide in without being able to be seen.

It was almost like you could hide an entire rebel army within it without anyone noticing! "A toll," begins the girl as she approaches--her left arm a jet black abomination that exudes a depraved air, far different in nature then the skull. If one was otherworldly, the other was infernal. "Is whatever shiny and magical trinkets you carry that spark my fancy! Like my friend here, Adramelech!" The flaming skull is lifed lightly within her healthy hand to expose him more.

...Quite literal highway robbery.

"Now, now." The spirit within, for what it was worth, didn't seem to concern the girl--Valmasians were so weird. Between the literal spirits, the flaming wings, or the ghosts that follow skeletons she had written off most magically inclined travelers as having some strange 'perk' to them. If she couldn't rip it from them--which she could, but only if Gorandis was to die--then she didn't seemed to concerned with it.

Lorelei stands in front of the hooded spirit-bound, looking the older man up and down with some strange enjoyment. "What do you have that meets the requirements? What will you do to pay the toll...?"

She hums, curious as to what he'd proffer--as if to see the offers more then anything else was the purpose of the hobby.
(Lorelei)

"...If it's something to simply sate you... then fine." He began to rummage in his bag before speaking again, apparently to himself. "No, it's fine she can have it now that I've finished with it. What? Wha- No, it's fine I've already learned most all of it. And I made notes of the important bits. Yes, yes so don't you worry alright? I am sure it will be fine."

"Yes, it worries me too, but there's nothing to be done about it really." His voice was tired and strained as he finally produced what he was looking for. It was a tome, a little battered and weathered but most certainly still in completely legible condition. "Here... this is likely the only thing of value I own. A tome from an old Necromancer's hideout..."

He tried to wash the image away and powered through. "It's on spirits, the soul and the spirit realm. THat sort of thing... I'm not one for gathering and carrying magical objects... not yet at the very least." He seemed to sag slightly as he held the tome out. He already wasn't very tall to begin with, only being five feet eight at his highest.

"Now then... this Adramelech... what is it?" He gave it a concerned glance from beneath his hood. Hoping to distract this woman before she asked for anything further. His head turned away again and he spoke in a not too hushed whisper. "Yes, I know she has a strange arm, I've seen one like it before, it's fine... in fact..."

He turned his head back slowly. "You wouldn't happen to be Lorelei would you?"
(Gorandis Fester)

"Necromancer's tome..."

Lorelei's head bobbles left and right as her malificent hand reaches forward to flip through the pages. Flip, flip--it seemed as if it were standard affair, albeit written in a bit of a shoddier style. She'd seen worse, though. It was...intruiging that he would carry this upon him, the girl sizing him up more and more.

"No, no. Not that. I already have one." One of Juhl's prized possessions, before he was absorbed into the mass that was Lorelei, was a very similar tome--by a different author, of course. Corrupted, malice-ridden...it was a tome of Necromancy, a following through of notes. Boring, she felt--but maybe one day she'd give a damn.

"I hope you're positive that--"

Up until that name is mentioned, everything had carried this gentle air to it. She was playing around, like a cat swatting a mouse that could never get away--never going in for the kill but toying with the food all the same.

The moment the name 'Lorelei' is mentioned does the world suddenly seem darker, as if the manifestation of her rapidly dropping mood was casting a nasty blacklight against the radiant sands of the Sarab.

Lorelei steps fowrard with a deep, grave frown. The accursed arm of the girl reaches out abruptly, seeking to grab tight whatever loose clothes sit upon the chest of Gorandis--a fairly slow reach, given her physical stature, but one that is backed by the power of a strong magi.

"...Why." It isn't state as a question, but a demand for the implicit explanation. "I don't give my name out often. I don't tell others my name unless needed. I've killed most of those who would walk these paths and hear it." The whispers of Adramelech are likely very familiar to Gorandis--his own spirit likely functioning the same way. It was a bound spirit within the skull, only the tongue it used wasn't a traditional Valmasian tongue--something bastardized, archaic.

"So I'm curious as to why you've heard it and why you think saying it hasn't doomed you. Speak quick, spirit-bound. I'm losing my patience."
(Lorelei)

"Your name was mentioned by another one afflicted with the same... condition as you." He gestures to her arm, apparently too tired to deal with the hostilities properly. "Jay was his given name though I doubt it was his true one. I cannot remember the context anymore, I think... ah yes, there was a man who had lost his hand..."

"Jay mentioned your name as someone else with a similar arm to him and invited the man to seek you out... At least I think that was it." The window to his face revealed another frown. "He was with me, Jay that is, when the Necromancer's place was raided. He took the Necromancers tome. The one I offered you is not something on that art."

"Perhaps you may have misheard me. That tome is more-so about the spirit realm itself. Even going so far as to mention a few ways of getting there... Something I do wish to try in the future." He looks down at her accursed arm as it grips at his clothing and he reaches up to pull down his own hood. Perhaps against his better judgement.

He reveals an incredibly tired looking face. Bags under his eyes which seemed dull and greyed. Even his hair seems lank and, for lack of a better word, depressed. "I was not aware that your name was some kind of taboo. I will do my best not to repeat it. This is the first time I have done since hearing it mind you." He grimaced slightly as his mana was gently sucked at.

But not quite by the arm, no. A few feet away, his spirit seemed to finally wish to manifest itself.
(Gorandis Fester)

'Jay'.

The glare of the girl remains, lilac eyes radiating a dire hatred as she fixates upon the older summoner without even a single blink--for she wouldn't given even a fragment of a second of opportunity to Gorandis.

'Jay'...she knew no Jay. She did, however, recall a single Son of Mordred that also walked the mainlands. Of the marshlands tribe, the northern reaches where he wished to overtake his elder. Could it have been? Did she give him her name? She must have--for a moment of weakness within that marsh, she must have.

Gorandis, slowly, is let go--her eyes shifting towards the spirit behind. "...Is that so." Her voice drops to but a whisper as she studies the spirit. Another summoner...she had presumed the art was one that was untouched upon the mainland as none had utilized it--believing that necromancy had replaced the old-fashioned ways of conjuring creatues of war.

It was an older art, one that in truth had been surpassed. Lorelei just had a certain soft-spot for it due to her tribe's folklore. "...Your 'Jay'. A son of Mordred. I know him. I have not seen him for some time, nor have I seen him at the citadel of the Imperfect. I had presumed him fallen when he challenged his elder. Perhaps he was simply punished and bound. No matter."

Lorelei, perhaps mercifully, takes a step back--slowly circling around the tired man towards the spirit. Her afflicted limb waves within the air--and the spirit born of Gorandis turns, facing the girl.

"...Not terrible." She muses, looking it over. "Boring. But not terrible. If I recall, your 'Jay' should be far to the east. Why do you walk the western lands? Quite far--with not much to see."
(Lorelei)

Gorandis seems to slump a little further as he is let go. This being the first time the spirit was manifested, well, he wasn't quite all there when it came to controlling his mana correctly. His fatigue came to a head and he gripped the cliff face besides him, sliding down and tearing the tips of his fingers even through his gloves as he failed to remain upright.

"He is not 'my' Jay." His voiced comes out a little pained as he cradles the now injured hand, rotating his body to sit properly against the wall, panting slightly from exertion. "I am in the west because of him." He gestures over to the spirit who nods slightly. It was keeping its eyes on Lorelei now, as if it were a faithful servant as very well much it actually was.

"He is a spirit of a fallen warrior in one of the northern battles. Which one and which side..." He takes another moment to shift about, seeming quite helpless should Lorelei decide to do anything. "They'd already been scoured from his memories before we even first spoke. He came to me while I was going through some... dark times."

"We've only just formed a contract..." He leant back as the spirit finally began to move. With its eyes still firmly looking in Lorelei's direction it began to place itself between her and Gorandis.
(Gorandis Fester)

A quite honest-to-god spirit.

Poke.

The afflicted limb of the girl reaches forward and pokes the spirit--a light ripple and shimmer coming from the body of the fallen soul as she does so. A weak 'hum' escapes her lips as she looks it up--then down--then back to Gorandis.

It seemed if the magic failed to agree with him. Perhaps it was a magic that most normal humans couldn't muster due to the mana resources needed? Perhaps she never had a problem with it due to the mana requirements being sated by the endless battery that was the parasite within.

Whatever the case may be, the girl walks closer towards the wounded--and tired--man. Adramelech continues his chattering, but it seems as if Lorelei has done far better in ignoring--or simply failing to acknowledge--the skull as it does so. It spoke so much, perhaps similar to the spirit, and if one didn't know how to ignore the white noise then they'd swiftly go mad!

"...Suppose I'm confused." Lorelei's head tilts lightly. "You're here for him? Why? Why do you care what it wants? Is--" She squints. "...Has it dominated you? The nature of a spirit is that you force it to obey. You demand it's services. You--"

The Vessel of Adramelech slowly enters into an oppressive silence, something that even Lorelei is keen to as she, too, begins to quiet.

"...North, northwest." She follows in an oddly humbled voice. You'll find a cave within a grove of trees. The ground will be consecrated--you'll feel an odd hum at your feet. Move until you find a cave with sigils to a god of the wolves. See if he recognizes it. It was a scant few years ago and the corpses are barely buried."
(Lorelei)

A weak cough escaped Gorandis as the spirit was poked, as if the bond was perhaps a tad too strong at the time being. An improper summoning as it were. He weakly waved his hand and beckoned the spirit closer. As it moved he listened to Lorelei's words quite carefully. "I care what he wants because I need something to keep me on the straight and narrow..."

As the spirit moves closer Gorandis' hand comes out and in a flash of crimson lightning the spirit vanishes, dispersed into the air. A literal shock to make it leave this plane. Gorandis sat back again. "I don't think he was one of the ones in the Ookami wars... he's older than that as far as he knows..." his voice began to gain more strength as the moments passed.

"But I will look to it anyway, thank you for this, though this seems entirely out of character for you..." He braced himself on the wall as he got back to his feet. He looks to the skull again before lightly, almost imperceptibly nodding to it. "I don't want to take this act of kindness too far but..." He paused for a moment, making sure he was steady on his feet.

"My name is Gorandis." He motioned over to the tome again. "It contains some good information. That is... sorry to sound rude here, but that is if you know how to read Valmasian. If not I, could, uh... Well I do need someone to practice more about spirits with..." He let the thought trail off.
(Gorandis Fester)

Lorelei is silent for a moment, glancing towards the once-prolific ookami nests.

"...There are many aspects to the Spirit Realm." Begins the girl as Adramlech slows in his whispers, as if coaching her on the nuances. "It's not too unlike this one--there are many that walk it, wandering around. Creatures not from this continent. Creatures not from the mainland. This world is vast--the stars are vast. It is a creche for those that cannot be reborn. Those that don't make it to the stars. Those whose memories are so strong--whose faith is so strong--they cannot be returned to the lifestream. They wander, they build, they live, in some profane degree.

I still advise dominating your spirit. The contracts..." Lorelei glances down towards Adramelech's flaming visage. "...are there for when you dabble in those far more powerful then yourself. No fallen soldier should be that powerful. If you must be a vessel, then make it count. I don't know the history of this land. I can be of no further help."

Perhaps it was the spirit. Perhaps it was the son of Mordred's name that had eased her. Perhaps it was nothing more then the fact that Adramelech was quick to chastize in it's own way for being talked down to. She seemede more restraind then normal.

As if to complete an unseen pact, the malignant hand of the girl slowly falls upon the tome, looking it over once more. She doesn't read it so much as give it a glance.

It, still, is gripped and lifted.

"...Tax paid." Is all she follows up with. "Beware walking these lands, Gorandis. Travelers are oft preyed upon by the unknown."
(Lorelei)

He stood and listened quietly as she spoke. Nursing his cut but not bleeding hand. The spirit realm... yes the tome had been quite explicit on the nuances, the writer having seen the land themselves. Though of course, getting it 'from the horses;' mouth as it were was always best as Gorandis couldn't shake the feeling that Lorelei's spirit was speaking through her.

"That contract... I didn't want a slave, something subservient to me... at least not yet... No as I mentioned I need something to keep an eye on me, something to make sure I do not stray too far once more... I'd tell you what it was but you, like many others, would simply scoff it off as being a part of life here. But there is another aspect to it that I actually do fear..."

He looks down at her arm for a brief moment. "Occultic madness... it has... won out over me once, no, more than once before and I do not wish for it to happen again. Toying with my emotions, adapting them, I can't have that..." His right ear twitched again as the spirit once more spoke to him. Gorandis completely failed to see the irony in this situation.

"But, yes. I shall strive to be more careful in the future. And try to avoided hooded women who try to rob me of my valuables..."
(Gorandis Fester)

"You fear reality."

The children of Mordred weren't exactly the most sympathetic to those suffering from Occult Madness. It wasn't that they were immune to the contagion--no, they were highly vulnerable to the ailment. Only it was sanctified within their culture--a hidden, dark clarity that pushes ones boundes farther and father then possible by allowing them to discard their humanity, acting as nothing but a vessel of chaos upon the land.

It was a wonderous thing. "When you are touched by the darkness, you act as you want. You are untethered. You are unbound of your conditioning, your ties, your everything. You return, once more, to the natural state of yourself. You revel--you kill--you bleed. You enjoy. Do not shame it. Welcome it."

Gorandis was to make no headway on the dangers of the madness--by the way the girl speaks, it seems as if she has been thoroughly conditioned otherwise. It was a battle to lose, philosophically speaking.

"If your spirit is to keep you sane, then you should dismiss it. The only thing you need is strength. If you act with power and conviction, you can do no wrong. The laws of the world will reward you for every brash act and vile depravity you commit. I think you care too much. You should never care about anything but your own life."
(Lorelei)

"I fear becoming something new, really. Something I am not entirely in control of. Yes I will likely be more free, perhaps even more powerful if I stopped caring. But I am just not... ready. I--" He cut himself off as he tilted his head to the side, listening in once more. He had never thought that having a spirit would be so... distracting. But at least he made valid points...

Gorandis' eyes went wide, it was an odd thing to see after they'd been heavily lidded for so long. "What? N-no. No you don't actually-- The whole reason I contracted you was to... keep an eye on me... No I can see where you are going with this... but to trust-- Not yet, no, sorry, but not yet. Perhaps in the future yes, but not now..."

He looked back over to Lorelei and cleared his throat. "Sorry... I must look even more insane than you must already think I am... But... I-- I can see the merits in your words, both of your words yes. But I can't just... just lose myself. It-- I don't want to have to deal with the consequences. Even if I try to act with power and conviction I can still do wrong, at least to others."

"And I don't know if you've noticed this Lo-- Miss, but I am not exactly a powerful man... And I would not be strong enough to combat any that I wrong." He tried to avoid using her name lest it angered her again.
(Gorandis Fester)

"Change begins with you."

Lorelei slowly begins to wander away from Gorandis--not to exit, but to resume where she was beforehand. A small cavred cove within the channel of the Sarab, shade overarching in order to block out the rays of the sun. Very rudimentary, very barren.

"If you want strength, kill for it. You won't get it wandering, you won't get it talking. You'll get it by acting. You'll get it by fighting. For instance..."

The cowl is pulled over her head as she sits within her carved-out cove, looking out towards the weathered summoner. "There is a gathering of exorcists north of us. Terrible things. Vile things. You should off one--seize their life in your first as a testament to your stride towards power. Only blood slakes the thirst of the soul. You should know that by now. After all, your 'spirit' likely sparred more often then he killed. Else, he'd likely be alive!"

Lorelei had little respect for the dead. If they had died, then they were weak. Weak deserved to die for the devourment of the strong. It was a Yokai mentality that didn't apply to the normal humans.

It was too deeply embedded within Lorelei's culture to not suggest it, though.

"Or don't. I don't care if you live or die. I'm sure you do though. So--"

A weak shrug from within the shadowed cove. "Do as you will. But be warned you'll not be in control until you can seize control."
(Lorelei)

He listened quietly, his hands fidgeting slightly as he thought on her words. Normally, he would have dismissed her ramblings as that of a mad woman, someone who truly does not understand the value of a life. A sociopath. That would be the case normally but... But it had felt so right... it had felt so very good when he had taken a life.

His hands clenched in a flash of red. "It did feel good to crush through his ribcage... to shock that man's very core and snuff out his life..." He spoke quietly, not softly and it was likely that Lorelei would be able to overhear his words. "It felt... fitting to end him there, to kill him and plunder his research...." His lips pursed as this only served to fuel the already raging inner turmoil.

He threw his hood up back over his head, content to hide his warring features in the shadows. "Perhaps... perhaps there is merit to... to taking what I want..." He felt a shift behind him and a hand on his shoulder. He didn't turn as he could feel who it was. And he didn't care for the gesture either. He didn't want to be comforted or coddled away from this.

"This... this imperfect you spoke of. You said he resides at the citadel correct? Would he... would he happen to know how to seize occultic madness either by the reins or by the throat?"
(Gorandis Fester)

Aww, he didn't want to kill the sparring excorcists.

Lorelei glances towards the northern cottage wistfully. Not today. Not today...

"...Of course." It's a lie. Dumuzid wouldn't block the occultic madness but force it to be exposed. To put it in a perpetual state of revelry. A joyous overture of chaos and depraved occultism. "The imperfect isn't as imperfect as his name may imply. He's the strongest creature upon this main land. He is the end-all be-all of occultism. He doesn't just know of your affliction but he was born in it. Seeking him out wouldn't be a terrible idea!"

...If anything, it would mean theres someone at the citadel that wasn't a tween. Lorelei loathed the children that flocked to the damned bastion. If it wasn't the home of an Imperfect, Lorelei might have simply slaughtered them all by now.

"...Far east. Near your marshlands. East, then north. I'm not escourting you. If you die before then, you weren't ready for it. Seek Dumuzid--or a child named Nahele. Let them know of my name."

The girl didn't seem like she was moving from her cove--either to greet, aid, or act as an impass. Gorandis was free to roam.
(Lorelei)

"Then... thank you for the help Lorelei. Even if you did rob me of my tome... at least I was already finished with it." Instead of looking east as she directed, his attention was turned north. Towards where she had said the graves were... Perhaps he should try to give the spirit at least a little closure. Or at least earn its trust-- no, its obedience.

"Nahele or Dumuzid... very well. If he is the strongest being of occultism then it might be best to find him... eventually. But I have things to do first. The foremost of which, is about my spirit... who I still do not even have a name for..." He slumped a slight further before stretching out, his joint clicking furiously under the strain as he got back to his meagre full height.

"I hope you wont ask me of another toll when I next pass by..." That is if he walked by here next time. Hellstorm magic did provide him with the means to circumnavigate this area in the future after all. He gave her a tight smile and a gentle nod. "I hope the tome serves you well. Perhaps it might hold information even your companion does not know..."

He nodded his head once more and turned north, making sure he had everything he needed to head back up there.
(Gorandis Fester)