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- Brass Monkey Imports. (lost) (Spinesreach.) (5581)
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- [+]-
- -----
- Resting on the ground is a cube-shaped silver sigil. An elegant obsidian cup has been left on the
- ground here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. There are 4
- thin black bands here. Hands folded in the sleeves of his dark, voluminous robes, a cabalist stands
- ready to guard his city. You see a sign here instructing you that WARES is the command to see what
- is for sale.
- You see exits leading east (open pine door) and down (closed pine door).
- Unmapped: down
- Your pose is now set as:
- Eleanor leans against the bar, in conversation with the tender.
- She is a wise Idreth and is a somewhat disorienting creature to look upon. Ambient light seems to
- simply fall away into her, rendering her shape down to a black silhouette which seems to lack depth
- from any angle, despite still occupying a three dimensional space. The silhouette is humanoid and
- feminine in shape, delineating a broad-hipped and stocky build, but little else is discernible. The
- only feature readily recognisable are her eyes- two blazing points of blue-white essence stare out
- at the world like twin stars in an otherwise empty night sky. She walks with the blessing of Maghak.
- (on the left hand) : a silver wedding ring, inlaid with dark opal
- (covering the torso) : a high-collared, black leather top
- (worn on the feet) : fur-lined combat boots
- (covering the body) : a formal longcoat of the Cabal
- (worn on the legs) : fitted, black leather trousers
- (worn on the hands) : a fitted leather gauntlet
- Ashmer arrives from the east.
- He is an undead intelligent Grook and is a disturbing sight to behold. Smooth skin of a sickly
- malachite hue clings to his thin frame, which seems to absorb and trap the surrounding light in its
- tenebrous contours. A webbed crest, like a blade of skin, cuts down across the back of his head,
- having taken on a murky grey tint, nearly white on the broad flaps of skin between the thin spines.
- The same murky, smoky grey swirls across the skin of his wrists and palms, slipping through the gap
- between his long, thin fingers. Thin, white scars lash across nearly every inch of his visible skin,
- contrasting violently with the malachite hue. His right eye is a dull yellow, which glints eerily in
- the available light, revealing jagged, crimson flecks interspersed throughout the golden orb. His
- other eye, however, is a frightening sight. The skin and flesh that surrounded it have been
- completely stripped away, leaving a pale, bloodshot orb, devoid of any discernible iris and pupil,
- anchored to the exposed bone of his ghastly eye socket with slight sinews. The glistening muscle
- entwines and turns as the orb shifts its gaze eerily, independent of his other eye. There is no
- audible hint of his presence, and his chest barely rises and falls with each faint breath that
- passes his lips. His movements are smooth and measured, giving him a disturbingly ghost-like
- appearance, and he stands at an odd angle, not quite perpendicular to the ground, seeming to sway
- hypnotically to some unheard rhythm. With the parting of his thin, malachite lips, his ebon teeth
- are revealed, which glisten eerily in any available light. A sinister emerald glow issues from a
- grim, chaotic marking, seared into the flesh above his right eye. A faint wisp of smoke rises from
- the scar, dissipating into the air with an otherworldly hiss.
- As he steps, hunched, through the door, Ashmer's flesh wavers, wisping away in wisps of oily black
- smoke before taking on visible definition once more a moment later.
- You have emoted: Eleanor looks over her shoulder, the blazing pinpoints of her eyes settling on
- Ashmer. She has no readable expression, her stillness bordering on eerie as she considers him.
- Ashmer's white lips work as he utters something beneath his hissed, rattling breath, and he traces
- the rune seared into his forehead with one thin, pale finger.
- The same, belabored breath turning into a barely-audible hiss, Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind
- Prophet says to you, "Conduit."
- Ashmer inclines his head politely to you.
- You have emoted: "Asssshhmer," Eleanor replies at length, as if testing the word on her tongue.
- There's a long pause, and more careful inspection of Ashmer's appearance. Then, dryly, as if to
- break an awkward silence, she adds, "You're looking well."
- Ashmer is entirely undisturbed by the sudden appearance of a shadowy nightmare, as it blinks into
- existence behind him. Oily black smoke pours from its nostrils as it snorts and scrapes one ichor-
- caked hoof against the floor.
- Ashmer's thin chest inflates with a raking gurgle, and he coughs deeply, expelling a spatter of
- black ichor onto his white lips. After a convulsive twitch, he wipes at his mouth with one bony arm.
- Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet says to you, "Thank you, Conduit."
- Your pose is now set as:
- Eleanor stands at one end of the bar, leaning casually on an elbow.
- You have emoted: Eleanor tilts her head, her eyes glimmering faintly. "So, then. You wanted words.
- Let's hear it."
- Ashmer tells you, "((I don't know if we still use tells for OOC communication, but I'm afk a sec,
- sorry.))"
- You tell Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet, "//That's fine."
- His head following the tilt of your head in an eerie mirror of the gesture, Nephilim Ashmer
- Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet says to you, "Centuries have passed, Conduit. How fares the Cabal?"
- Ashmer tells you, "((Hey, didn't you draw that bad ass picture of Ashmer for me, way back when?))"
- Ashmer tells you, "((Or was that someone else?))"
- You tell Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet, "//I drew you forever ago, yes."
- Ashmer tells you, "((If I recall, I owe you a desc.))"
- Ashmer tells you, "((Or, like... twenty-five descs, depending on the interest rate for debt
- avoidance. :P))"
- You have emoted: Eleanor sniffs, and rolls her shoulders. "It's quiet," she says after a moment. "It
- was already fairly quiet, then it caught a bad case of stupid which drove it essentially to the
- grave. Now it has too few hands on deck to really make a difference." She shrugs. "It's quiet," she
- summarises, again.
- Laughter and revelry can be heard on the winds, coming from the patrons of the Wintersbreeze Inn.
- You tell Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet, "//hah, probably beyond the statute of
- limitations by now."
- Ashmer tells you, "((Hahahah.))"
- Bone crackling noisily, Ashmer rolls his shoulders in a mimic of Eleanor's motion, and his dry skin
- splits along one side of his chest. Thick black ichor oozes slowly from it as it closes, the
- malachite flesh knitting smooth once more.
- With a tilt of his chin, Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet says to you, "Much as we left
- it."
- Ashmer tells you, "((Y'know, I quit before they actually implemented the changes to Tweak I wrote.
- Is it any good?))"
- You tell Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet, "//cabalist class is still crap and broken."
- Ashmer tells you, "((It was always crap and broken.))"
- You have emoted: Eleanor doesn't seem impressed, though it is visible as nuance in posture, rather
- than any sort of readable expression. "Hardly," she comments, still dry. "But that was some time ago.
- "
- Ashmer tells you, "((Still need any descs done? I don't like leaving that shit hanging out, and you
- were justifiably pretty fucking mad at me.))"
- Ashmer inclines his head politely to you.
- You tell Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet, "//I may be able to think of something if
- you're planning on sticking around, but I don't have anything in mind that desperately needs written
- just at the moment."
- After forcing another rattling breath past his throat, Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet
- says to you, "We would welcome an exchange, Conduit."
- You have emoted: Eleanor rubs her jaw idly with her fingertips, the darkened appendage blending
- seamlessly with the black shape of the rest of her. "An exchange," she invites, her tone expectant.
- Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet says to you, "The Spheres - they taste... different,
- to us. We require a place to study, and gather the bits of this corpse cast to shrill winds. In
- return, we offer our mind and words."
- You have emoted: Eleanor seems to survey Ashmer for a time. "...You want to rejoin the Cabal," she
- paraphrases, a questioning tone to the end of her statement.
- After a long pause, Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet says to you, "If that is what that
- requires, Conduit."
- You have emoted: Eleanor holds her hands palm-up. "You could be asking me for an apprenticeship,"
- she points out.
- His amber eye squinting, Ashmer cants his head to one side, causing his neck to crack loudly beneath
- his thin flesh.
- You have emoted: Eleanor crosses her arms over her chest. "After this long, there will likely be
- little reason to refuse you," she says, but then makes a small, disapproving sound in the back of
- her throat. "The Cabal is not the creature you left behind, anymore," she cautions. "We are no
- longer chanting, robe-wearing charlatans. Ritual has been replaced by procedure. Magic, with science.
- Rhetoric with reason." There's a pause, then she adds, "It might not suit you, unless you plan on
- changing as well."
- The slits where his nose should be flaring slightly as he forces the words past his throat, Nephilim
- Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind Prophet says to you, "We are changed, and changing, Conduit... but even
- that past creature was cast behind us. We offer our voice, in return for a place to... heal. Lgakt
- cannot be contained."
- You have emoted: Eleanor seems to weigh up this statement. "I will speak to the Commissar," she says,
- finally. "If you're lucky, he'll choose to forgive the grief you caused him and we'll admit you to
- the Cabal."
- You say, "The way it works for mature and return entrants is that you will complete some manner of
- task, rather than the standard baby-steps that the novices complete for third rank."
- Ashmer inclines his head politely to you.
- You say, "The task is negotiable depending on the interests of the applicant. Many choose to write a
- paper, but it is largely up to you."
- You say, "You'll want to think on your proposal for a task while you're waiting for the Commissar's
- decision."
- With another incline of his chin, his dry flesh crackling, Nephilim Ashmer Ras'valyra, Blackwind
- Prophet says to you, "We will await your word, Conduit."
- You have emoted: Eleanor nods, shortly. "Was that all you wished to speak about?"
- Flesh begins to dissipate, and Ashmer turns on his heel as oily black smoke envelops his hunched,
- diminished frame.
- Ashmer grows still and his lips begin to move silently.
- Ashmer is enveloped in translucent fire for a moment and is gone, his soul safe until he returns to
- Aetolia.
- You have emoted: Eleanor pinches the bridge of her nose. "Right then."
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