Cold Shoulder (Open)

[Diem]

10th day of Winter 509 AV

"I'm not asking you to make any sacrifices. I'm asking you to simply do whats right. Assist those who need it. Help the injured, feed the hungry. Even a meal a day could change their world." Spot, the Mountain pony carrying all of Diem's belongings whose misleading name did a poor job of describing her snow white color, snorted in what seemed like a combination of boredom and contempt. Diem looked from the people on the street before him to horse and gave her a look. "Everybodies a critic." Diem looked up to the sky in hopes of getting a rough estimate of the time of day and was suprised to find the sun had begun to set and the sky had gone from the bright azure to a smoldering orange red. Diem had aparently been standing here most of the day and his legs began screaming in protest as the realization hit him. Being a traveler, and sometimes a merhcnats guard, Diem was used to walking, and performing menial tasks like carrying things. Standing still an entire day was a different matter entirely though. Not wanting to seem foolish or impatient, Diem had refrained from pacing to strecth his legs and instead only took a few minutes break every hour or so to sit. Sitting of course became uncomfortable with the snow on the ground so in the ended Diem was simply forced to walk it off by going around a few of the buildings. Diem's legs weren't the only thing bothering him either. His voice had grown hoarse, even though he barely had to raies it over a normal conversational tone and his throat cried out for some manner of drink to ease the pain. Diem had emptied his canteen only an hour ago though and had to wait until he returned to his camp to fill it. It seemed the day had been wasted.

Diem had tried, without any form or manner of success, to spark an interest or start a discussion with any of the inhabitants of Sunberth on his first day. Those few who had taken the time to stop and saying anything only spat a few insults about him, though thankfully none attempted to insult Priskill for Diem would not have taken such talk nearly as kindly, before moving on. The rest continued walking, either ignoring him or going as far as pretending he wasn't there and crossing to the other side fo the road to avoid him. Being a realist Diem hadn't thought he would have much success, especially on his first day here, but to have not gotten even one person remotley interested in learning the ways of the goddess Priskil left him with a feeling of guilt. It was his failure to reach them that plauged him, and while there was some anger that they refused to hear what he had to say it only served to multiply his guilt. Perhaps today, because he convinced no one to listen to his words and today those same people will pass by someone they could have fed and who will instead starve. If one thought such a thing would be considered as the most extreme result and unlikely to happen, then one had never truly looked at the streets of any town or city more heavily populated the a farming village. The homeless and hungry were there, suffering, starving. Some were there by there own design, some by unfortunate mishap. Diem intended to help as many as he could.

It was such thoughts of depression and failure that oddly enough rarley entered Diem's mind. And even now he could feel them slipping away. Hope, he had to hope that what he did would make a difference. And he would never stop helping those in need when he came across them either. The self reasurrance bolstered Diem's spirits back to their annoyingly high levels, and the frown that had spread across his face turned into a slight smile. It was time to return to his camp. The day was not yet finished and he still planned on practicing his meditation in order to help him relax.

So Diem untied the rope that served as Spots lead form the post he had found in the ground and started off street he had occupied, snow crunching underneath his low boots. Thankfully the jacket, combined with the vest and shirt he wore, seemed to have been enough to keep him warm. It appeared their low quality was offset by the sheer wuantity of layers he wore. Still it was hard for Diem to not set out on a jog in hopes of setting up his camp near that deliciosly warm fire.

The place he had found to lay out his bedroll was near enough to the fire of the slag heap so that the cold of winter wouldn't kill him, but far enough away that all the people partying and enjoying themselves around the fire wouldn't take notice of him. It took the convient place of an almost to narrow alley way, one in which Diem barley fit in himself. Spot would have been to hard to hide, so instead he planned on trying to look normal and just tie the horse up nearby, close enough so that he could hear anyone trying to take her.

The spot near the fire was as convient because of its warmth as it was because of its closeness to where he had decided to try 'preaching'. With no official anything, Diem had been unsure where he would try 'preaching' in Sunberth. Even in his thoughts Diem couldn't help but drip the word with sarcasm. He thought the word to formal and restrictive to describe what he was attempting to do. Still, as a traveler and sometimes caravan guard, Diem was not exactly well spoken and could not think of any other word to use. So Diem had simply chosen a place far enough away from any stores so as to not drive away any buisness, and yet one that was still close enough to what seemed to be a gathering point in the town. It just so happened that spot was near the edge of town Diem had chosen as a camp spot. The choice had nothing to do with it being a little for Diem to traverse. Such a thing would be coonsidered lazy.

Another thought crossed his mind as he walked down the road. Even if no one stopped to speak to him, or stayed long enough to hear all of what he had to say, there was small chance they might at least start thinking about what he said. Perhaps he might see them again when he returned tomorrow. Maybe he actually had reached someone and they would seak out a conversation with Diem. And maybe Pigs would fly in flocks. Diem Stopped and looked up for a moment to see if such a thing was happening then returned his gaze to the road and began walking again.

[Liminal]

"Hey, you're that justice guy, ain't you?"

There were no pigs, but there was a girl, maybe sixteen years old, sitting on a rock to one side of the road. She had red hair messily tied back in a ponytail, a wide nose, and green eyes that regarded Diem with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"Bit far from Syliras, ain't you? They're really more the justice type there."

She stood up. The girl was wearing a shapeless brown dress draped over her bony figure. There was a wicked-looking knife at her side, but that was pretty much par for the course in Sunberth.

"Sunberth ain't really what you'd call a justice kind of place, Justice Guy. 'Cept if you count justice for what the Alaheans did to us. We ain't much for order, and we 'specially ain't much for laws. Laws ain't done anything for us, last time I checked, so we don't do much for them."

She seemed utterly unafraid, and also in something of a talkative mood. She took a few steps in Diem's direction.

"You ain't trying to get martyred, are you? I don't think that much works, not 'less you've got more gnosis marks than you look to. Lhex'll just send you back, maybe as a hummingbird, or a seal, or one of those hummingbird-seals they send up from Akvatar every now and again. 'Cuz unlike justice, he's got a bit of a sense of humor."

She shrugged, but continued her monologue. "And I don't think you're gonna get many takers on that meal a day thing. Not unless that horse tastes better than he looks." She jerked one thumb in the direction of Diem's pony and smiled. "We could have ribs night at the Slag Heap Fire."

"Anyway," she finished, as cheerfully as if she was chatting about the weather with an old friend, "I'm not really sure this is your town, Justice Guy. Not everyone's as concerned for your welfare as I am."

[Nyahna Sasin]

As he warmed himself by the huge fire, Sasin wondered just what had possessed him to come here to Sunberth. It was freezing cold here, and that was not good. Not good at all. He would never make it through the winter at this rate. Making a face, he reminded himself he had been saying that every year since he was 77. And he was still alive. That didn't exactly make it any warmer though. He was just going to have to live with it. Again. And he was going off topic. The point was, he must have been mad to come here. Sure, he was bored. Sure, he was out of work. But, assassin or not, he considered himself more cultured than these.... these amature back alley bashers.

Like he did every year, Sasin seriously considered hibernating this winter away. The problem was, it was already midwinter, and if he tried curling up in a hole now, it'd be virtually impossible for him to go to sleep. And even if he did, he ran the risk of over sleeping. "Iss another all yearer." He mumbled to himself, using his term for a year where he stayed up during winter.

As he crept even closer to the fire, he wondered who's idea it was to set fire to a huge, stinking (literally) heap of slag. What was the point? Why spend all that energy? Who cared? Sasin groaned. He was still trying to get a contract, but, no one seemed interested. He had prowled the streets, listened in taverns, gone through all his contacts, and still nothing. He considered cutting his trip short, but decided against it. "Meh. Maybe ssomeone will get annoyed by preacher boy over there." He mused, recalling that he had seen a human busy trying to convince people to give to the poor, and whatnot. "He'd be right at home in Syliras." Sasin thought, smirking as he recalled a girl starting lecturing him on why he shouldn't be doing this, and why he should be in Syliras while he was passing.. "My thoughts exactly."

[Diem]

"Hey, you're that justice guy, ain't you?"

The sound of another voice was a welcome thing, even if it came with a rather unorthodox nickname. Diem turned slowly to look at the side of the road and the origin of the voice. What he saw was a red haired girl with a kind of amused air about her. If Diem had practiced with people, and not needed an hour or so of meditation to prepare himself, he was sure the best bet of assesing the person would have been trying to see what her aura was like. As it was a lack of practice and preparation left him with simply seeing normally.

Warrily Diem watched the girls movements as she stood up from her seat on the rock. He wasn't sure how but she seemed perfectly fine in this cold weather wearing only her simple brown dress. Perhaps the locals were used to such weather. Diem himself had on at least three layers, including his most recent purchase of a wool jacket and still he could not help but want to set up right next to the fire and wrap himself in his winter blanket. Along with what she was wearing Diem had not failed to notice the knife, but since the girl wasn't swinging it around or raising it in any kind of threatening manner Diem was able to hope this confrontation would end with out it seeing any use.

"Bit far from Syliras, ain't you? They're really more the justice type there."

At the mention of Syliras Diem flinched a little. Memories of the last time he had been to the city had not yet lost their sting, though thankfully time had worn down what had once been a razor to nothing more then a dull blade. Sometimes though a dull blades cut is all the worse for its lack of care. The pain the memories caused quickly faded as Diem's focus returned to what the girl was saying. When the girl began talking about the law having a sense of humor Diem began to think perhapos she was actually trying to help him but telling him all of this. Or she was extremly impulsive and liked to talk alot. The former gave filled Diem with hope for Sunberth. The latter made him worry about his saftey. Ever the optimist Diem mentally leaned toward the first option.

"And I don't think you're gonna get many takers on that meal a day thing. Not unless that horse tastes better than he looks." She jerked one thumb in the direction of Diem's pony and smiled. "We could have ribs night at the Slag Heap Fire."

Spot's ears flicked back at the mention of horse ribs and Diem couldn't help but chuckle. The horse sneezed and turned away as if the conversation werea bout some other horse and therefor not her proble. Diem began to worry that perhaps he characterized to much of what the horse did and poerhaps she wasn't nearly as full of herself as he believed. However the thought of trying to cook her brought up rather comidic images of a failed dinner and Diem's worry on the subject vanished aidst another chuckle.

"Anyway," she finished, as cheerfully as if she was chatting about the weather with an old friend, "I'm not really sure this is your town, Justice Guy. Not everyone's as concerned for your welfare as I am."

Diem waited a moment to see if she would make anymore gestures and then begin talking again, but when no more words were offered he thought it safe enough to give a reply. "Justice guy is quite an interesting name, especially considering I never mentioned anything about justice or law. Or at least I don't remember doing so, there were a few minutes there where I couldn't even here myself think over the noise of the other people and its quite possible in my stupor I said such things."

Diem smiled to show that he was only joking around, as she had been with the nickname and the subject of horse ribs. "I should also point out that none of things I asked people to do required there tro be any kind of law. Simply doing whats right, showing kindness to one who needs it and helping one another out, is all I asked. Giving food to the hungry is just one of the things one could do." Diem turned from the girl to the road he had been walking. "For instance someone such as me who lacks in neither food nor water but simply lacks in knowledge of the area and its customs was helped by you, one who took the time to warn me that I was doing something dangerous. Even if your intent was simply to have a conversation or sate some curiosity you have about the crazy preacher, you have given me some words I will take to heart."

Diem turned back to the girl with another smile and continued. "And while I can't offer you any ribs, I can give you some of the fish I caught yesterday. They're still fresh and I'm sure they'll be at least edible if I cook them for a little while." Diem slowly but confiidently extended his hand out in front of him for a handshake. "My name is Diem and its nice to meet you."

[Lebramme]

"Are you sure you want to head that far east? Sunberth's a pit of scum, you know. Worse, even." The Fall season was coming to a close in Zeltiva. Lebramme and his steed, Bloodgait, were slowly making their way out of the city, being accompanied by a pudgy academic. The snippy winter winds were approaching, and the academic couldn't help but shiver. "I mean, it's not that I don't think you could handle yourself, but...I've known many a man to have lost their lives in that place. And there's still plenty of work to be done here in Zeltiva; those brigands could come for me again, and I--"

"There are two outcomes, set in stone, for everything each of us does: success and failure," Lebramme stated. "I can protect you from failure no longer." Bloodgait continued his lazy trot, and the man Lebramme had been in service to still followed behind. "Is there nothing I can do to persuade you to stay here, in Zeltiva?" Lebramme leaned forward, and Bloodgait took off with a whinny at full gallop. The only reason Lebramme had helped that pitiful "professor" was so that he would receive a commendation, which he could then present to the scholars of Sahova, so as to arrive in good standing with them. This reward was the sole reason that he even put up with such a pathetic man and his problems with a group of mariners. So naturally, when he discovered that his commendation could not be awarded by his employer, Lebramme decided that there was no longer any need to remain in Zeltiva. The only thing keeping him from killing the man outright was that a good number of the scholars knew that he was the closest person to the professor, and should he go missing, he would draw undue attention upon his own person. So, he spared the wretch, and left him to fend for himself.

It would not have lasted much longer, regardless, he thought to himself, as he rode east. The magi of Zeltiva are far too careful. They would waste years creating theories, when they could have answers within moments. If only they were content with such complacency. Of course, Lebramme could not know if all Zeltivan magi were satisfied with theories, rather than results, but his time as "volunteer watchdog" certainly led him to think it true. "A pit of scum is better than wasting time in a predictable, orderly city," he said to himself. "Surely the presence of the unruly will spark my curiosity."

That was a lifetime ago. Now, the Winter had truly set in, and snow covered the ground that Bloodgait trotted upon, as well as the man in dark brown leather who lay collapsed upon the horse's back. A sharp wind found the man and his horse, as black and red ribbons attached to the man's belt blew back behind him. Lebramme couldn't help but shiver, and did not try to stop, knowing that it was his body's natural instinct to try and generate heat in such a cold environment. Still, he just lay there, arms and legs draped over the sides of the horse, his head turned to the right, so he could see anything coming from that direction. I wonder if I would be able to react to someone coming from the left, if I feigned near-death and faced to the right? It was a question he had asked himself the previous day, and he had decided that he would find the answer to that question by doing precisely that. Still, he became more and more aware of a smell that he couldn't place. It was unpleasant, and only left him more alert, and more curious.

The slag heap I heard about, no doubt. If he had decided to sit up, he would have seen that they were approaching the Slag Heap Fire, a huge smoking mass with an odor that was slowly overpowering his senses. But even as his mind screamed out to stop the smell, his body laid still upon his horse. "Calm...body...quick...mind...calm...body..." Lebramme found himself muttering his maxim. The warm flames of the slag heap would soon be in range, and then he would have truly arrived in the dreaded town of Sunberth. I wonder how long it will take for someone to try and steal my things. Perhaps, they will come from the left, and then I could answer two questions at once. Lebramme let himself have an inward smile; if there was anything he liked more than satisfying his curiosity, it was satisfying his curiosity faster. As the odor became even more overwhelming for his aching sense of smell, he relaxed his body, prepared to use his astral limbs to defend himself, should the need arise. "Quick...mind...calm...body...quick...mind...calm...body..." His body was coping with the cold and the slag, and soon he could hear what he believed were footsteps. Lebramme went silent, preparing for confrontation, waiting to prove his theories the only way he truly knew how.

[Liminal]

The girl shrugged cheerfully. "All that doing what's right talk reminded me of justice and law, I guess. And you gotta admit, Justice Guy has more of a ring to it than Doing What's Right Guy."

She took Diem's hand and pumped it once. "Diem the Justice Guy, eh? I'm Gemmy." She tilted her head to one side. "Fish? I ain't averse to fish, if you're offering." The girl clapped her hand on Diem's shoulder. "Whaddaya got?"

Gemmy glanced around, aware of the fact that her conversation had drawn a couple onlookers. She winked in Nyahna's direction, but didn't say anything.

She did, however, say something when the limp figure on the horse came into view. "Eh, look at that, D.J.G. We might have some ribs after all. Ain't that luck! For us, though -- it ain't that guy's lucky day." She drew her knife, though it was a cautionary gesture, and not an offensive one.

"Gotta be careful when you see a dead guy," she said helpfully. "Ain't no telling if the folks as what killed him are still around somewhere. This being Sunberth and all, we get a fair amount of practice as to what to do around corpses." A crooked smile came over her face.

"'Specially round the Slag Heap Fire. Usually if someone gets done in, it ain't around here, seeing as how it's always crowded, and there's usually enough alcohol around here to distract the murder-minded." This seemed to amuse her, because she giggled a bit.

Motioning for Diem to follow her, she approached a little more closely. Still, she stopped some twenty feet away from Lebramme, cautiously looking around. All her senses were working at peak capacity.

[Diem]

Diem's eyes had been drawn to the body at the same time Genny had noticed it. At first it seemed to be swaying back and forth, but if one also noticed the gait of the horse it was draped over one would realize it was limp and was not resisting the way the hore's manner of walking moved it. No one would blame another for assuming the person was dead. This wouldn't be the first corpse that Diem had seen, he suddered at the memories, but it wasn't such a common thing that he had grown used to it. Diem began to taste something odd when he realized he hadn't seen many dead bodies, and for a moment he thought he was going to heave the contents of his stomach. That would have been bad, especially considering the weather. It didn't seem to come to that though and Diem took a deep breath to calm himself.

A giggle brought Diem out of his thoughts and he was made to realize that Gemmy had been talking the enitre time. Diem felt bad for not having heard her but began to ask what it was she had said. She was already taking steps toward the horse though, whose path neither seemed to waiver or even veer from a straight line. Diem wondered for a moment if it was entirely safe to get closer when Gemmy motioned for him to follow. Diem began to move forward when a cold wind moved down the road. This one had bite to it and Diem shuddered for a second time. Even with all his layers he was still cold. The promise of warmth filled the air in with an odor near intolerable to him. As he opened his eyes though, which he had closed in order to keep any snow the breeze had picked up from stinging his eyes, Diem thought he saw the body on the horse shudder to. If he wasn't mistaken that meant the person wasn't dead. That left several possibilities open, and all but one happened to be dangerous for those who neared the horse. First, the man could be extremely sick. Diem wasn't sure exactly what the rate of illness was in Sunberth but such a thing could be disastrous to those exposed, and even those who come in contact with those had been exposed. That would mean Diem would have to lead the horse out of town and try and help the man on his own. Not very good. Secondly, it could be a trick. Diem doubted many people in this town would stop to help someone who was hurt, but a body wearing anything on a slowly moving horse was surely a curiosity for supposed looters. That would mean Gemmy, who was still inching forward, was about to get hurt. Thirdly, the man could be unconscious or injured. Diem would try and help him if he could but he knew next to nothing about treating wounds or first aid. That he might be asleep crossed Diem's mind, but he didn't seemed to be breathing naturally.

The only way to tell for sure if the man was really dead or sick was to attempt to gaze at his Aura. The problems that he had thought of earlier came back to the fore front of his mind. Still it was the safest way, and Diem was not about let Gemmy, or a anyone for that matter, walk into a possibly dangerous situation. Diem folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. It would be hurried, but he could at least put an effort into calming his mind. With his eyes closed, Diem moved his focus from his sight to his hearing. The sounds around him suddenly seemed to well up. Diem quickly sorted through them and identified as many as he could. The sound of the biting wind was most prevalent, and the commotion of any town this size was also quite loud. Below that though was the sound of feet crunching on freshly fallen snow, the sound of a fire crackling in the distance, the sound of a snort from Spot, and then the sound of Diem's own breathing. When Diem had become fully aware of all the noise around him he moved to smell. The first thing that hit him was the acrid odor of the slag heap, but it was underplayed by the chill winter air. He oculd also identify a musty wet smell fo sweat, and he realized that he was in fact sweating. He was putting alot of effort into this, and it hadn't exactly been an easy day. Not as many smells, but then again Diem never really relied on it. Then he moved to what he could feel. Cold. With his eyes closed Diem had effectively painted a picture in his mind of his surroundings, tinged with odd colors and at parts was quite fuzzy and the entire image was blurred, as if being seen through dirty glass. The air seemed to be filled with a greenish tint, and buildings were eschewed or even missing. Gemmy was nothing but an unrecognizable shape as was his horse spot and the mystery horse with the limp body.

Not only had he taken account of his surroundings, he had calmed his mind and shifted it to the important task of focusing. It was kind of the quick way of meditating, but also not nearly as affective. Diem would have usually taken ours to carefully consider each sense as it became prevalent in his mind. He only spared a few moments this time. And there was still one last sense to use. Sight!

Diem opened his eyes and was greeted with an image so startlingly like the painting in his mind most people would think it was a trick or dillusion. This was different though. His last sense had filled in the blanks and sharpened the blurry portions of the image. Buildings streaightned and the figures in his minds eye were now recognizable as Gemmy and Spot and the mystery beings. Gemmy seemed to have stopped. Good, she was being cautious. Once more everything was aglow with light.

Diem had been told Auristics use their powers differently. Some people simply relied on feeling, and at times would attribute their use too their gut or intution. Some would rely on smell or taste, saying the air seemed wrong around more dangerous areas. Some had even been known to take note of Aura's through hearing, saying something was offkey. Those who did not explore there power or did not know about it often went on in life simply using it. Being more attuned to the natural world. The man with the knowing gut would be a great leader, the one with a sensitive nose a chef. The one who would hear things a musician. Or at least that's what he had been told. Certain magi were said to theorize that they weren't using there power, but simply showing the traits that would allow them to use the power. Others said anyone could do it. Some said that wasn't auristics at all. That they were just skilled or talented people. Diem didn't know what the truth was, the old fisherman that had taught him how to see aura's probably wasn't the best of sources to rely upon in such matters.

Diem's teacher, the one who had taught him how to take notice of Aura's, insisted that everyone to some degree or another was aware of Aura's. Only some though were truly able to take notice and observe them.

When Diem opened his eyes everything was aglow, from the snow on the ground being suddenly brighter, to the odor in the air tinging the world green, to Gemmy, whose colors were that of an earthy brown similar to her dress. Then there was the body on the horse. A crimson red color seemed to surround him. Which meant he was alive. It also seemed too be a strong glow. Those who were injured or sick tended to have a flickering light about them. Those who were dead seemed to be surround by the very absence of light.

Diem quickly closed his eyes again, only seconds after opening them. Already he could feel a small headache blooming between his eyes. It would pass though, he had been very careful and made sure not to hold on to long. When Diem opened his eyes for a second time, everything was back to normal. Diem quickly moved a few steps in front of Gemmy and put his arm out in front of her, while still keeping his body turned to the horse and his eyes on the body. Talking to Gemmy Diem said. "Gemmy, be careful, he's not dead."

With her warned Diem took a few more steps forward, catching the attention of the horse and stopping not ten feet its side and little in front of him. The horse continued moving slowly but Diem was ahead of it on the road. Saying it loud enough so that the person on the horse couldn't help but here him. "It's not right to try and trick others. I'm not sure what you would have done, but those with deceit in mind rarely plan anything helpful."

[Lebramme]

The setup was perfect. His breathing, slower, his body, unmoving. He had slowly detached the arms of his astral body, as he had practiced so many times before, and as his real arms lay over the sides of the horse, it only added to the illusion of death. Lebramme had hoped for a thief. Perhaps even a concerned citizen to come poking about. And so, it was with this scenario that he came up against what could probably be the nicest man in Sunberth. He gently tugged on Bloodgait's yvas with an ethereal hand. As far as anyone else could tell, Lebramme hadn't made any noticeable movement -- perhaps a shiver in the wind, but not enough to ruin the game. At least, I thought it was subtle.

But clearly, this game was over. Very interesting, stanger, he thought. His mind was racing now, contemplating his options. I could trip him, and smother him in the snow. Or perhaps break his nose with an abrupt, unexpected strike. I could draw my blades upon him. I could draw my blades on someone else, too. Feigning ignorance is always an option. The option of ignoring his discoverer was, to him, not an option at all. Cowardice left no room for curiosity, and one cannot learn about something by hiding from it. No, leaving the slag heap was not an option.

I believe that will suffice, he thought, finally coming to what he thought would be the most interesting "test" he had given to a stranger. "It is not right to cast suspicion so readily," Lebramme said, slowly sitting up, his arms still limp as his invisible limbs glided ahead of his horse. He shook his head from side to side quickly, jarring a mass of snow that had come to rest in his hair, and slowly opening his eyes. Magic be damned...he has no hair to pull on? He had planned to start a conversation with his interloper, while he inconspicuously pulled his hair out. The reactions would be interesting, and would certainly sate his curiosity for a short time. But the plan does not work if there is no hair to pull... Lebramme let out a sigh of disappointment. "Have you nothing better to do than insult strangers from afar?" Taunting will have to do, I suppose. He enjoyed testing the patience and tolerance of others. "How far a person can go before they resort to primal behavior" was a point of infinite curiosity for Lebramme; while he could find the answer when relating to a single person, there was no common limit that all people shared. It was the thrill of gambling, without the option of losing. Everyone becomes an animal eventually. Some take longer than others. If someone is so determined to interfere with my "studies", then it is the least I can do to find out where their sanity stops and their madness begins.

Lebramme thought about adding a second wave of insulting words upon his taunting, but decided against it. His projected arms were now down by the man's legs, mere inches away from being able to pull the man's own weight out from under him. Now, he thought. Show me the secrets that make themselves known when one is truly flustered and angry. He sat upon his horse, poised for movement, as he waited for an answer.

[Diem]

"Have you nothing better to do than insult strangers from afar?"

The man whose hair almost matched the color of his soul seemed quite calm. Something wasn't right, but Diem couldn't figure out what. Was it his attitude. His nonchalance at getting caught? Maybe. Though if you thought about it he might be trying to pass on the guilt to Diem and hope that no one else gets angry at him for attempting to con them. Maybe it was how he held himself. His arm's hung at his sides, with no concern to the horses reins. He was seemingly dead on it a few moments ago so perhaps he used his feet, but Diem hadn't seen those move either. And why was he trying to goad Diem? wasn't it because he had ruin the mans plans.

Another gust of wind began picking up more snow, this time though Diem barely noticed, his focus on the man before him ontop of his horse. That was until some of the snow seemed to stop in midair. Diem thought it must have been a trick of light but sure enough he could see an outline. This time Diem didn't bother focusing his mind, he simply blinked and shifted his focus. The world was alight again, and this time Diem was greeted with a suprise he was barely able to keep from his face. The mans arms were like death had greeted them, the lack of light. It was as if they were missing their very essence. But it wasn't hard to see where it was. Strecthed on the ground before him was what seemed like an ereathral pillar of crimson red light, ending with two erethral crimson red hands. That wasn't normal. Without showing anysuprise Diem blinked away the sight and decided on a course of action. Gemmy's saftey was more important than his, and he had no idea how far he could reach with whatever he was doing. First he had to warn her. It was the only way then. "Gemmy get back! He's using magic!"

Diem dove forward in a roll, and in the process scopped an armful of snow off the ground. Then, returning to his feet and finishing the roll, with a wordless yell Diem through the armful of snow at his target. The horses face. No matter how doicle a horse a face full of snow, and judging from the way his arms looked when Diem Gazed upon them, he would be in no position to take control of the animal.

[Lebramme]

"How did--" Lebramme started, as Diem leaped over his "arms". He realized all too late what Diem planned to do, as Bloodgait's cry erupted. Clever bastard! he thought, quickly pulling his arms back to his yvas, preparing for his horse to rear back. He clinched his legs as best he could; falling off of his horse could result in broken bones if he wasn't careful. But how did he see it?

Instead of flying back upon its hind legs, however, Bloodgait did just the opposite, and moved forwards toward Diem in a rage. Thinking quickly, he pulled on the yvas with his astral hands, in an attempt to keep his massive horse from trampling his latest source of inspiration. And that's when he saw it; a thin outline, barely noticeable in the bleak weather, of his arms. Damn, was all he could think. His arms were showing: a sure sign that he should be reattaching his astral body before it exhausted itself. As he tried to hold back Bloodgait, with limited success, he realized it wasn't so much that the horse was out of his control, so much as that his arms were getting tired.

This man is clever. He recognizes magic when it should not be recognized. He is probably a magician himself. Auristics? Most likely, as he does not seem the type to be a Spiritualist. Lebramme was concentrating on restraining Bloodgait, who was now bucking slightly, with his right arm, as he slowly reattached his left arm to his physical body. He had never tried to reattach his astral body during a turbulent scenario before, and a part of him enjoyed the challenge brought on by this turn of events. "Are you mad?!" he yelled out to Diem, a large grin plastered on to his face. "Throwing snow at such a large creature -- if you are not insane, then you are a fool!" Lebramme wouldn't let Bloodgait have his way, so long as he could help it. Forgive me for stopping you, but there is much to be learned about this man.