(Quest) A Mystery Darkening(Hadrian and others)

[Archelon]

The man merely nodded and Kreig's words and let out a slight shrug. "Perhaps the fact of one's skills do not make the full measure of a man. Perhaps, the strength of your character and willingness to put yourself into a dangerous situation that will let you grow in skill, and knowledge is enough for right now. Just do not let prior prejudices influence you too harshly for in time..." the man trailed off , letting the silence weigh heavily for a moment. "In time you may be a bit better then the common sort in Sunberth who cannot see the forest for the trees. As for compensation, well, I suppose a few gems well worth their weight in mizas will do for you. For now, all I ask is that you support the others in this carriage to the best of your ability. If you survive long enough then the rest of your worries will become irrelevant in due time as experience will be your best teacher. Just remember, the greatest skill a man could have is to be of sound mind, with a healthy dose of good common sense." What was left unsaid was just why the man had chosen to ask Hadrian to take up this task and to what skills the man possessed. Instead he merely looked at the 'soon to be professor of Zeltiva' and calmly noted, "Now, as for you my dear fellow. I think that not defining how you shall be compensated is the mark of a rather high intelligence. You will however, be compensated nonetheless for your time. Let us be off, there is not much time to waste, yet time enough to speak of the first task I must request of you both." Tapping a cane against the wall, the carriage began to move in counterpoint to the coachman's sharp cry. It's wheels jostling a moment before the prevalence of momentum would force both Hadrian and Kreig back. The team of six undead horses began to run ever faster, as fast as the fastest horse one might know, and yet, being of the undead they would never tire. But to the passengers, they would feel less then what they would have if they were in a normal carriage. Perhaps it was just good suspension in the conveyance's making. Perhaps it was not. Beyond the windows, the mists traveled thick as could be until the pair left the confines of the city proper, the mists thinning to give them a view of the quickly receding city , and the fetid waters of Baroque Bay. The man paused, and they could feel the weight of his gaze, searching the scenery outside, as if seeing something that was no longer there amongst the mountains. Another small moment of silence stretched before the man continued. "The first task is in a place, that I am bound by ... past agreements... not to ... disturb. For in the oldest parts of the graveyard, upon the dust bed ridge lies a tomb. A tomb that links to catacombs belonging to the second oldest family that once thrived in Sunberth. What their name is, is not as important as what you seek. For in the chambers of the family head of Terarca, you will find the diaries of his sons. One whom fled to Alvadas, and the second... well the second whose restless soul is interminably connected to the events of what has disappeared. Even I am unsure of how everything became muddled close to two centuries ago, I only know the outcome lead to the death and theft of that which once was mine to guard. Wrongs which have yet to be righted, and rites that have yet to be wronged as vengeance lies unrequited. You are to enter these tombs and gain the diaries, do not disturb anything else at your own peril, but beware the dangers lurking within. " The carriage's occupants lurched to the side as they went round the bend. (in perhaps more ways then one) Their sight of the view outside being swathed in darkness for spans of time. The only light during these moments in the interior of carriage came from the soft red glow of the skulltopped cane's rubied eyes before their world was blessed again with light. They seemed to be diving through hills and mountains, the carriage turning its wheels on long forgotten paths and tunnels as they were swiftly approaching the Dust Bed Ridge, something more then an hour's meandering ride away from the city proper had perhaps been done in less then the span of twenty minutes. Perhaps they were to spend the time in silence. Perhaps they were only to speak amongst themselves, but if any questions were directed at the man he would merely smile and shrug as if in a grandfatherly way, muttering in reply. "In due time, all in due time." The carriage took another turn at full speed, making the occupants feel a little queasy as the coachman cracked the reins. It wasn't before they noticed the increase in elevation giving them a view of the farther view of the city tha the man would speak again. "The people of this city now are children, children forgetful of the trying times long before they were forced to work for an Empire that tried to rip everything away from them with 'quotas' and regulations attempting to place an 'overseer' here that was not from them. NOT one of their own. Someone, or something that would have made sure that none had survived a single generation to bleed out the most of what resources the mines and the mountains have. Far too ignorant of the reasons why such resources were so plentiful here in the first place." There was a sense of disgust in the tone of the man's voice, nay perhaps disgust was the wrong word. Perhaps... disappointment would be better. But that would fade as he gazed a moment at Kreig, the words softening to the same grandfatherly tone one used to educate a child. "The population's become rather dull and ignorant of it's history. Seeking to divine that chaos is better then order and that order is worse then chaos. Yet they fail to realize that even then, even before the Valterian this town, a place built on the backs of toil, painful adherence to outside "laws" was still within an ordered sense of chaos. Held together by a thread of those who toiled endlessly in parasitic politics to preserve it's people's heritage. It's current generations speak of the harshities and tortures heaped amongst their ancestors, not realizing that part of those ancestor's were the torturer's forced to bend whip to their backs and struggled under the senseless facade of a "war of empires" to make quota after quote or face replacement by those envious of this town's resources. Indeed , mages then scrambled for any scrap of power they chose, and yet... yet here in Sunberth the local 'overseer's' of the time simply chose not to play. In the end, the population of Sunberth, the tortured, and the torturees were condemned to do it to themselves. Prompted by that same sense of independence it's denizen's hold now. But what if they hadn't done it to themselves? What if their so called 'overseer' had been supplanted by a foreigner, or an 'outsider' of a so called 'enlightened' Empire? No child or descendant of Sunberth has yet to ask the most important question, would it have been a thousand times worse?" What was left unsaid was how this being came upon this knowledge, or if Kreig's internalized supersticions would cause him to have an outburst as his stalwart view of the city was challenged. But such was forestalled by a raised hand, "We have almost arrived at our destination, and I shall pray for your safety. My porter will give you , Ser Messer a longsword for your use. It is a simple thing, forged of cold iron, just in case you have need of it. To you, Ser Hadrian, I offer you a choice, a quarterstaff of my choosing or a simple dagger. As to answer an unspoken question why I seek to arm you both?" For a second there was a pause, then a sigh, "No I think by the end you might need both son of the Aelius' so you should have them. Kreig a dagger as well." The skull topped cane's rubied eyes seem to glow, as if it's gaze was piercing their souls before it was tapped on the wall and the carriage came to a stop." There is little time to waste, the tomb you are looking to gain entrance to is in the highest place within the cemeteries. Search for the name, Craven and you will be on the right path to find the entrance to the crypt." The door was opened to the sight of a graveyard hill, stretching far above them a series of twisting lanes of crypts forming a labrynth of the unknown, filled with mists stretching further up as far as they could see. Whatever contemplations they had on the misty environment, their thoughts would be broken by the sound of the porter's voice. IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE, TAKE THESE." The porter would then come to their side, handing Kreig a cold iron longsword and a simple cold iron dagger. Both would be encased in black leather sheathes and a weapon's harness. To Hadrian, the banded metal of a cold iron enhanced iron staff was held out to him as well as another simple cold iron dagger and a similar weapons harness with a sheathe for his given articles. In no time at all , the porter would fuss his way around them both, assisting them to cinch the harnesses rather tightly as he smiled a toothed smile and took his hat off his hat in courtesy before giving them a slight bow of Farewell. "The Master and I will wait here for your return. The only words I might add to your gentlemen's benefit would be, Good Luck. Without a word, the coachman clambered up to his seat on the pillbox once more and took out a crossbow. Merely waving them off with a smile as he began to stand watch. In the far off distance above the pair, the crying howls of wolves amongst the gravestones could be heard.

[Hadrian]

Hadrian nodded at the compliment; certainly he had been offered information into his family's history, which might be interesting, but the man before him was a mystery, as was the extent to which he could reward Hadrian for a job that only he and the educated brawler could accomplish. But he wasn't moved by compliments. He sat back as the velocity of their conveyance increased, and listened to the first part of the task. When the man grew quiet, Hadrian remained so. He had nothing yet to say, and was patient, knowing there had to be more information offered before they began. And he did, in spades. There was a moment where a choice was offered Hadrian, but the man decided for him without giving him a chance to respond. If the man was offering him a magic staff like those of the Suvan and Alahean Empires, the sort that had a habit of becoming more crutch than tool. But if he was to be given even such a thing as that, he could study it rather than use it, and perhaps improve his own magecrafting with that knowledge. "Terarca," he murmured aloud, committing the important names to memory. "Craven." When the door opened, it was clear that their audience was complete for now. He nodded to the mysterious man and exited after Kreig. He let the porter help him with the straps, not knowledgeable about such things. Ritual daggers were rarely carried as such, and the staff, well... While the porter was doing his business, Hadrian turned his augmented senses and even his Lykata upon the weapons, trying to grok their virtues, seeking even with his spiritist's sense. They were, after all, at a cemetery. "Thank you," he said. Then, to Kreig. "Are you ready?" Then he began the ascent, senses primed for ghosts and magic, and eyes peeled for more mundane dangers.

[Kreig Messer]

This old man.....was confusing, it was not to say Kreig did not understand his words, it just felt hard to believe. The basics concerning their mission was quite easy to understand; find a couple of diaries and try not to bother the dead. Perhaps not as easy it sounds, but simple nonetheless. The confusing parts were when he spoke of these...agreements, the events surrounding their mission.... it all sounded so long ago and he spoke as if he'd been there, at least that was the impression. As the Carriage picked up speed he could feel himself in a daze, the Brawler was quite unused to riding in a carriage 'Now that I think about it..... this the first time I ever ridden one' How he belatedly realized that would be a mystery for another day as the Brawler felt himself getting quite dizzy. Then the old gent began speaking of Sunberth, at first it sounded like he felt....anger?sadness? Kreig wasn't quite sure in his current state, his brain muddled and his face turning a tad bit green. From the gest of his words it sounded like he was insinuaing that Sunberth forgot the true meaning of hardship..... that it praised 'Chaos' too much and not realising that 'Law' was a form of 'structured chaos'. Kreig in all honestly would have raged at this, but he also knew he was in no mood..... especially since it was so trivial a matter at the moment and he wanted to vomit the content his stomach all over this wonderful carriage. Soon the high-speed ride of joy ended and the carriage came to a halt. Kreig now only wished to exit the bloody thing and get things done with.... but not before the Old Man gave him and his associate weapons 'Bloody hell, another longsword....' Understandably the menttion of longswords weren't quite enjoyable for the Brawler, a reminder of the sin he committed not long ago. Still, the sword and the dagger were of Cold iron, high-quality materials, considering the rumors about it and their current location it was best not refuse them. As they exited the Carriage the sight of the endless mist further increased the chilling feeling down the Kreig's spine, he was quite glad that the porter broke their train of thought, presented them their weapons and even helped them wear the weapon's harness where their weapons would dangle from Kreig had to let out a little laugh as he heard the mention of the word luck 'In the end, that's what it all comes down to, doesn't it?' He thought to himself. The howling of the wolves soon broke his thoughts in a more negative manner, though he had to admit he did want to punch one. He gave a simple nod to Hadrian's words and a thumbs up, he was as ready as he was ever going to be 'Best hope its all good enough..... Wonder if I should pay a visit to mum while I'm here?'

[Archelon]

Hadrian's actions of attempting to gain information from his surroundings, while keeping an eye open for dangers was quite prudent. Perhaps, not so much was his first assessment of the staff. His senses only seemed to note a pattern to the strange banded cords that surrounded the top part of the item. There were intervals between them, set almost rigidly as if reminding him of a faint something. Other then that, there was nothing special about it. It was certainly not magic by any means, nor covered in soulmist. The staff however, was just seeming to be a staff. Like a shepherd, or a caravaner used. And then it hit him. A small vision from his lykata. A room covered in dust with a strange set of wheeled cogs, a circular slot for something on one side, and multiple straight slots arranged around the mechanism. Three to be exact, though he could not tell the depths of the groovings. And then the vision would fade just as rapidly as it came. What did it mean? He'd take a look at his new staff and wonder... was it a key? If he had any knowledge of archeowizardry he'd have to wonder if he would be able to reclaim the staff after it had been used. Most old mechanisms in ruins failed after their purposes were done. But should he use it? If it was a key to something, then what of the other items? He got a brief sense of the dagger being part of a set to the staff. But what of Kreig's weapons? Were they the same? Would using them be very wise? He might unknowingly damage his means to unlock a mystery. But such things were always a risk to an entrepreuneur ... or a grave robber. He'd have to decide whether to approach Kreig about the possibilities on his own, or risk explaining how he knew these things anyways. For Kreig the ambience of the graveyard stretching high up to the hillside crypts was a fascinating view. His mother's grave was down in the lower reaches of the graveyard. A difficult hike from his current position. The grounds of the graveyard were rather large after all. But he would glean an important fact about such a thing in his reminiscence. Graveyard workers were usually about in here, the graveyard master keeping them in order. So maybe , he might, just maybe consider if they would they only be endangered from the wolves? A howl in the distance, provided the only counterpoint to their thoughts. The choice to enter the labrynth of crypts was up to them. As Hadrian began the ascent, he would notice small offerings to the dead. If he wished to make some however perhaps he could steal some cheese from different moldy offerings to the graves. Ghosts, might be a problem here if he had no idea of where in the misty labrynths he was. Or if they were turned about. Nor would his newly received 'gifts' provide any real means to damage them. But such things would come in time. If they were observant in the next moments, the pair might here the clinking clink clink of moving chains. But that would only be decided upon if they decided to converse about the possibilities they had noted.

[Hadrian]

"I think, perhaps, we ought to be quick about our work, and return on a brighter day to visit your mother," he suggested prudently. But his endeavors provided him a snatch of vision, the which he tried to play off as a mere stutter to his steps. Three slots, three blades. He didn't believe in coincidence, but unless that vision pertained to where they were going, he wasn't sure how the information would avail him. He kept it to himself for now, not knowing what good it would do to tell the brawler, who had been given two blades rather than cold iron knuckles or something more appropriate to his apparent training. As they ascended, he went over the names and details that they had been given, trying to put the vision into their context. In a cemetery, his familiarity with spirits only gave him a vague, buzzing sensation. There were ghosts here, yes, but he could not pick anything specific out. "So when we get toward the top, we're looking for a tomb marked Craven, which ought to lead us to Terarca. You should know that I can make soulmist, which is like food to ghosts, but I am not able to do much more with it. Still, it might prove a bargaining chip if we come across a hungry ghost."

[Kreig Messer]

oocLol, Hadri the bit about Kreig thinking he should visit his mom was a thought 'Have to admit, in all its creepiness this place never ceases to impress me' Thought he brawler as his eyes wandered and settled on the hill 'Pretty big, but looks to pretty well taken care of. I'd wager the undertaker......huh, you'd think that would come to mind before we got off the carriage' Kreig thought a a frown appeared on his face, his left hand resting atop of the Longsword's pummel. Then came the howling of wolves, as intimidating as ever. Kreig turned his head around trying to figure out the direction of their howling, but he wasn't experienced with animals lie that 'Dogs I can handle, wolves...fun thought but not exactly dogs' He looked at Hadrian, listening to his comments about ghosts and Soul mist"...forgive me for asking, but what is Soulmist? Ah, no matter, perhaps at a later time" He shook his head and continued " We should be more weary, we seem to have forgotten to take the living into accound as well. I hear the undertaker of this graveyard is quite crossed with grave diggers and considering the nature of our mission I doubt we'll be able to have civil conversations with him and his cheery band of workers"