Closed Have we met? (Kuvarakh)

[Alric Wilmot]

Summer 40th of 513 AV Alric stood off the ship and onto the docks with a broad smile on his face. He had enjoyed his stay on the Emerald Eye a ship that made its money on passengers. But if truth be told he enjoyed the site of the Alvadas walls more. He had been gone a long time, a year truly. Though he felt it had only been a Season ago. Of course, that was mainly due to his accident. He briefly wondered what kind of terrible thing happened to more offensive oriented wizards when they made a mistake. He let the thoughts go nearly as soon as they came however when a tall dark man with long braided hair came up to him. He was well muscled and wore no shirt or shoes, his name was Marcus, and Alric considered him a friend. "Well, little man, I suppose we aren't going to be sparring any longer. I'll miss beating you." Alric smiled and stuck out his hand. "And I shall miss being beat. You are a good man, my friend. May Ionu show you favor." Marcus grabbed the hand, and then pulled Alric into a crushing hug. "And may Laviku bless you on your future journeys." Alric smiled and thanked him before leaving the man behind. Marcus was the kind of person he would like to come across again. But no matter how much he enjoyed his trips at sea, and the people he met, he wasn't going to let it stop him from getting home. He walked along the docks with barely concealed excitement, seeing Charodae and Konti among the people who made their homes there. He had never paid much attention to them before, but now he seemed to see everything with new eyes. Many a sailor had commented on the beauty of the Konti, and while Alric would have to agree, he thought the Charodae were also quite fetching in their own way. He found he simple enjoyed the odd, different, and exotic. Whether scaled or nose-less, beauty was beauty. He never visited the docks before his departure, but he swore he would do so later. As of now he wanted to visit someplace very special to him. It had been over a year since he had visited the ruins of the Wilmot Manor, and with the death of his father, he felt a need to see it. After that he'd need to visit the Womiyu, see where he stood on his Speaker status. He imagined they would not be happy, though there was little he could do about what had happened. He only hoped they didn't think he had abandoned them. After that, though... He had seen Marcus and several of the crew drinking a potion every other day. It apparently had been a mixture made by a priestess of Rak'keli and kept them from getting sick despite their limited food supply. They had claimed that if you didn't take it every so often you'd contract scurvy. Alric had inquired more about the process and found any marked by a god could theoretically bottle their gift into liquid form. For someone like Alric, who had given up his selfish desires in order to make people happy, it seemed a remarkable skill. Of course, Alvadas was always shifting and changing, so he might not be able to choose which activity came first. With a shrug, Alric strode forward, and toward the city. Hoping that it would remember him, and help him along his way.

[Kuvarakh]

He'd known it wouldn't work...He'd known! Alchemizing sand with an ice-cold quality would NOT carry through the furnace transformation to glass. The very fact of it being forced to white hot heat MUST break the alchemy at the outset. Plus which, once it became glass, the original quality, bestowed upon sand, no longer applied.

It was not that he thought imbuing bottles and jars with an ice-cold nature was a bad idea. In fact, he thought it would very useful and profitable. But he knew it would take more than that one simple step. Nothing creative and lucrative could ever be simple. Surely that was a law of nature written somewhere. If not, he would be happy to accept credit for it.

Kuvarakh's Law: Nothing worthwhile is ever easy.

The one upside to the initial failure was that he was no longer carrying buckets full of sand into the shop. Wanda was annoyed that the sifted and purified sand was not going to be taken back by the glass blowers for repayment. They would be glad to take it back, but there wasn't enough of it to merit renting a cart to pick it up. Nor did Wanda feel like renting one to deliver it.

'Aaah, the professional impasse.' Kuvarakh thought with equal parts annoyance and amusement.

Wanda opted to spite them by having the sand dumped at the beach. "Let some children build a castle out of it instead." she'd sneered, not really as angry as she let on, but enjoying the indulgence in a bit of bitchiness.

There were four buckets, and Kuvarakh was not going to carry two in each hand, so it was going to take two trips. He'd seen a new arrival at the docks when he dumped the first pair. The 'Emerald Eye' it announced itself proudly in bright decorative letters, just below the bow rail. Crewman were only beginning to climb from the longboats doing the last bit of tug work into the docks, so it would be a short while before unloading.

It had all the appearances of being a passenger ship rather than a cargo vessel. He figured he'd just miss the unloading by the time he returned with the other two buckets. He'd still get a reasonable impression of the variety of new characters that would be experiencing Alvadas, many for the first time. But he always enjoyed the initial, parade-like debarking of passengers.

Sure enough, by the time he dumped the second load of sand, the newly arrived passengers were milling about. Even the returnees were not quick to head out. Given their knowledge of the random shuffling of the city layout, they knew it would be blind luck to be able to go straight to their destination without a large measure of trial-and-error.

Heading back, he made his way slowly through the crowd of people, some staring in wonder, some checking itineraries, some giving good-bye hugs, and some hoisting bags and trudging ahead as if it was all just routine.

Something caught his eye and he did a double take. There was a young man that struck him as somehow familiar. Slim and straight-backed, with the sharp facial features common to slim people. Blue eyed, with dark hair cut to his brow line, Kuvarakh was certain he'd met the man before.

Had he been a customer at Alchemmia Alchae? If he was a passenger, it would have HAD to have been some time ago. Unless he was actually employed at the docks. Kuvarakh recalled that some time ago, He and Wanda had crafted some sail canvas with an imbued wind-blown quality. Perhaps he had been a representative of one of the marine crews that had purchased some. He certainly did not have the look of a Svefra.

He suddenly realized the young man was now looking back at him. It was too late to look away, so he stepped forward apologizing, "I'm sorry, I did not mean to stare. I...you..look familiar to me. Have you been to Alvadas before? I work at the Alchemy shop here, Alchemmia Alchae. My name is Kuvarakh. Did we do some work for you, perhaps?"

[Alric Wilmot]

As Alric went on toward the Gaping Maw, he was intently aware of a very uncomfortable sensation. It felt as though he were being watched. He began to slow his steps as he turned his head side to side, to find who was sneaking a peak. He thought it might have been a Konti on the beach, but after a while he realized she was looking past him to a rather tall and handsome Svefra. Eventually he stopped altogether and found who he was looking for. An older man, by the look of him. Gaunt but otherwise average. Though, he looked a tad familiar. As Alric stared, the man noticed that he'd been caught and came up to him. Alric smiled at that. He was glad to be in a city where people just came up and talked to you. Zeltiva was rather lacking in that regard. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to stare. I...you..look familiar to me. Have you been to Alvadas before? I work at the Alchemy shop here, Alchemmia Alchae. My name is Kuvarakh. Did we do some work for you, perhaps?" Alric furrowed his brow. So he thought Alric was familiar too, did he? "I have been in Alvadas before, yes. In fact I lived here for twenty years. I've never shopped at that particular store, I believe. However you look familiar to me as well... So we might know each other from somewhere. Forgive me, I don't recognize your name. Perhaps you will recognize mine? I'm Alric Wilmot. I ran a Hypnotic Cures booth in the Bizarre before the Winter Crisis. I was also a Speaker after the Djed Storm, you might know me from that."

[Kuvarakh]

'This doesn't add up.' Kuvarakh thought with disappointment. He was somewhat hesitant to mention his Nuit existence. Many were put off by it. He supposed he would be too if he were not one of them. He chuckled to himself, 'For that matter, I don't care for very many of them myself.'

But there WAS something. The name Alric Wilmot had a ring to it somehow. 'But the man had just said he didn't recognize my name. That would indicate a customer at the shop, who would leave his name with his order, but not have any reason to get mine. Wanda's perhaps, but not mine. Especially if he's been away for a while. It's only been very recently that Wanda has begun treating me as a partner, rather than an employee. But he also just said he'd never been to the shop either.'

He took a more analytical stance, his chin resting in his hand, the elbow resting in his other hand. "Perhaps I am recognizing the name 'Wilmot'. Are you a member of the 'Wilmot' family, whose estate was...well...suffered substantial damage in the djed storm?" He winced at his own social clumsiness. 'Oh yes, Ku, that's the way to get a stranger to warm up to you. Remind him that his home is a ruin.'

"I apologize. The name is teasing me. To be honest, I'm not even sure if it was 'Wilmot'. Or, for that matter, if it was the gentleman's first name or last. He was just taking his leave of us to accompany one of the Womiyu somewhere." Kuvarakh chuckled, "I remember thinking he must be a member to go off so willingly. Frankly, they gave me the creeps. I just remember my friend, Eridanus, calling him 'Master Wilmot'...or 'Willman' or 'Walmuth' or some such. I never saw him again after that, though I did see references to his great contribution of mizas to our work at our facility. Eri always insisted he was still present, but then HE went off east, campaigning. He and Nira'lia both. I just assumed 'Master Wilmot' went with them."

Kuvarakh saw furrowed brows and narrowed eyes and took it to mean he'd over-talked his welcome, something he was prone to do, and waved away the man's obligation to courteously remain while he rambled. "Forgive me. I'm sure you have errands to see to. I did not mean to w-...waste your...time?...Sir?" The man now appeared to be studying him intently. "Is there something wrong?"

[Alric Wilmot]

At Alric's explanation, the man, Kuvarakh, seemed to think even harder than before. A small chuckle escaped his lips, though Alric didn't know why. He imagined it might be some memory of amusement. That made Alric grin, happy that someone else was happy. Alric looked the man over again, trying to place him. Nothing seemed to come to the forefront of his mind. He was fairly sure he wasn't a customer from the booth. He hadn't treated any men above thirty. Briefly he wondered if had arrested the man once as a Speaker, yet that seemed unlikely as well. He was polite, and well mannered. Not the sort to get in trouble with the Womiyu. The man was obviously as perplexed as Alric himself, putting his hand to his chin, and resting his elbow in his other hand. "Perhaps I am recognizing the name 'Wilmot'. Are you a member of the 'Wilmot' family, whose estate was...well...suffered substantial damage in the djed storm?" Alric nodded, glad there were still people who knew of it. He thought nothing of the bluntness of the sentence. After all, he was rather blunt himself. "I am, indeed. Though I am the last Wilmot now, the previous head has passed. That is...partly why I was in Zeltiva. Also, that estate is part of the reason I've returned to Alvadas. After all, even a broken home is a still a home." Alric mimicked Kuvarakh's stance, attempting to put the man's face to any he knew. He was positive he'd seen the face. Why did he not recognize the name? Before Alric could think too deeply, Kuvarakh spoke up. "I apologize. The name is teasing me. To be honest, I'm not even sure if it was 'Wilmot'. Or, for that matter, if it was the gentleman's first name or last. He was just taking his leave of us to accompany one of the Womiyu somewhere." Kuvarakh chuckled, "I remember thinking he must be a member to go off so willingly. Frankly, they gave me the creeps. I just remember my friend, Eridanus, calling him 'Master Wilmot'..." Eridanus? Alric blinked several times at the name. He and this man were linked to Eridanus? And apparently they were both with him at the same time. Alric could only remember one instance of talking to Eridanus among a group, could this man be a member of... "...I never saw him again after that, though I did see references to his great contribution of mizas to our work at our facility." Alric's eyes lit up. This man was most definitely speaking on the Order of Transcendence! Alric had tried keeping up with letters, but it had been a year since his accident. In that time he would have fallen out of favor with the Order, surely? A year without any contact usually turned any relations sour. Yet, this man still referenced his gift to the group. Alric had completely forgotten about them, in all honesty. It had been a harrowing Season, and it wasn't over yet. "Forgive me. I'm sure you have errands to see to. I did not mean to w-...waste your...time?...Sir? Is there something wrong?" Alric ignored the man, too intent on trying to remember the man's face. The question of who this man was still burdened him. Until he remembered the Festival where he had given the donation. There had been a rather large group, and Alric hadn't bothered learning their names, trusting he'd have time to do so later. He had been wrong of course, but that sort of thing is hard to predict. Finally as he heard Kuvarakh spoke, he remembered the voice. "He's Right! He's absolutely right!" Alric snapped his fingers as realization struck. This was the man who had entered the group with a feather, rather than starting out amongst it! Alric had hypnotized the man, not knowing that it had been completely unnecessary. Quickly he opened the book chained to his hip and pulled out the same feather that had been given to him so long ago. He held it up to the man, a wide smile on his face. "I do believe I know who you are! You were present when Ionu helped us all come together, weren't you? The man who joined the group a bit late? I was there at the founding of the Order, you know. I was the man you are thinking of. You and I both were there If I'm right!"

[Kuvarakh]

Kuvarakh saw the feather! The same glorious deep black feather! It's rich depth belying the shallowness of the item itself. The same flickering rainbow flashes swimming within. He reached inside the collar of his coat and lifted out the chain with his own identical sigil dangling in honor of Ionu.

He realized suddenly that the man was talking and shook himself back to the present.

"...joined the group a bit late? I was there at the founding of the Order, you know. I was the man you are thinking of. You and I both were there If I'm right!" He seemed as enthused as Kuvarakh was.

"It IS you! I always thought you went off the Syliran War with Eri and Nira. I still hear from Eri now and then. But it takes so long to get messages. I tried to get some bird Kelvics to join for this purpose, but the one good one I had disappeared after I was nearly devour-...uh...well...devoured by mutant bugs. I suppose what they did to me was too much for her to handle. It must have been a combination of the djed storm coupled with a triggered alchemical reaction. They were like a swarm of stone-eating, metallic-bodied termites. They made quite a mess out of me before I was able to drown them in the lake.

"This is probably why you didn't recognize me...uh...you DO recall that I'm a Nuit, right? I got a new body since the last time you saw me. Well two actually, with the bug thing. But I suppose my mannerisms, speech tendencies and...well...the overall 'Nuit look' must have all been somewhat familiar.

"But enough about me! What happened to you guys? Have you seen Eri or Nira since then? Are they okay? I've been left in charge of the Order here, but our lease ran out and the building disappeared. I've been doing what I can to arrange classroom environments in various homes and outdoors in good weather."

He realized with a wince of embarrassment that he hadn't let the young man answer any of his questions yet.

[Alric Wilmot]

Alric was about to tell the man he had no part in Syliras's war before he realized he couldn't get a word in. It seemed the man was excitable. Though Alric was intrigued at the man's story. Giant metallic bugs? He had thought Alvadas might have calmed after the two tragedies. He supposed he was wrong. Though that did make Alric curious as to how the man had drowned them in a lake. Certainly it been magic of some kind, being a founder of the Order. As Alric began to ponder what magic this man knew, Kuvarakh explained that he was a Nuit. As such he was an undead being that had to 'jump' bodies to survive. That was the extent of Alric's knowledge in the matter. It appeared that Kuvarakh had actually jumped bodies twice since they had met. Alric was a bit baffled at that. How had the man seemed familiar then? But then he thought a bit harder and realized it wasn't so impossible. It could be that he had chosen a body close to age and appearance to his first one. He could have even styled his facial hair the same way. Such things, coupled with the odd transformation Nuit's went through, which could have altered the voice, made Alric believe he knew the answer. He was about to explain to Kuvarakh his thoughts on it before Kuvarakh attempted to explain away in his own terms. Both examples were good enough for Alric, who thought he might write it down in his book later. Alric shook his head as he went back to listening to Kuvarakh. He apparantly thought that Alric had left with Eridanus and some other person, most likely another founder, and went off to war. Alric was dismayed at the thought. He had been to Syliras breifly, just one day to stop and rest before he continued his jounrney. If he had known Eridanus was there, he might have said hello. Though, war was a rather interesting word. Who would Syliras war with? Ravok? That seemed unlikely. The city was surrounded by a lake, making the famed knights of Syliras all but useless. "I'm afraid I have had no contact with the Order before this moment, Kuvarakh. I was actually unaware Syliras had declared war. I have been disposed for a long while, you see. And in my previous state, such news was unable to be delivered." Alric decided not to broadcast his little mishap. He didn't want people to think he was incompetent. "I'm sorry to hear our mutual friend go into the foray of such a mess. I pray Ionu will help him survive. Illusions bring no joy to the dead, after all. Um, the dead rotting in the ground that is, not, uh, the walking kind." Alric briefly hoped he hadn't insulted the man. "Anyway, I am glad to hear the Order is alive and well. Thanks to your efforts, it seems. You have my thanks. Do you think we might discuss more of this war, and what the Order has been up to in private? I don't particularly care to burden others with tidings of war and our personal business.

[Kuvarakh]

Kuvarakh sighed, "Aaah, I should choose my words more carefully. I have no real idea if this was a 'declared' war. Or, if so, who made the declaration. I only know that they left to give their effort in the cause. Eridanus gave me a crash course in conducting interviews, and I thought I'd done well, as far as finding individuals with talent."

His expression turned glum. "But what they possessed in skill, they apparently lacked in commitment. Don't get me wrong, there are still several of them sticking with it. Mostly concentrating on speed of access, while retaining efficient use of djed. We also try to find new and creative applications of their skills, and positive ways to combine them.

It seemed to register, just then, that Alric had requested privacy to discuss these things. And, given that he still carried the two empty metal buckets he asked his friend if he'd like to come with him to the shop. "It's the alchemy shop, Alchemmia Alchae. My boss, Wanda, is always happy to meet my associates from The Order. We have had much interaction, both for positive developments of new approaches to alchemy AND to craft embellished materials for the students to use in their lessons. We give and take quite a bit."

He lifted his arms to bring attention to the buckets with a chuckle. "I have to return these. Not every activation ends in success, and not every customer is willing to absorb a share of the loss. The thing with the bugs cost us dearly, over and above the near cost of my life. The damned things ravaged several nearby buildings and businesses and we offered to make good. Several of them exploited our offer to hold up worn out old items as if they'd been damaged in the incident, and demanding free replacements."

He shook his head with disgust, "Myri's Balls! There were still bits of my old body staining the floor, and they're out there at the counter, shouting for new curtains! Preachin' Vultures!" Then he shrugged and grinned. "Aaah well, live and learn. I learned just how much damage a Nuit can take and still survive."

He lowered his voice, "Look, I don't mean to be presumptuous. You say you've had no contact with The Order? Eri still speaks of you as a member. Do you want me to omit mention of The Order when we get to the shop? I don't want to press you for details if they are private, but do YOU still consider yourself a member?"

[Alric Wilmot]

Alric let Kuvarakh continue to speak. He was quite the speaker, a nice educated quality about the way he spoke. He imagined the man well suited to finding eager young recruits. The way he spoke simply seemed to exude an air of finery. As if he were a wise old man. Though, truth be told, the man was not all that old. Alric paused then, his body may not be so old, but what of the soul inside it? He had no idea how old he might be. For all Alric knew he could have been present during the Valterrian. He seemed to be speaking on the fact that while many people joined, not many people stayed the course. Alric nodded. Even he had changed goals and paths frequently, he imagined others might do the same. Though he thought it rather silly to throw away such a valuble connection as the Order. Alvadas was rather lenient on magic, if by lenient you meant legal. It was more celebrated in Zeltiva, but Alric knew that the majority of Mizahar frowned on magic, severely in some cases. It was blamed for the Valterrian, and the djed storm. That was not true of course, It was all Ivak's fault, but it did not stop people from making the accusations. Finally Kuvarakh offered a place of privacy. Apparently Kuvarakh worked at a store that specialized in alchemy, and had offered to help other places hit by those bugs that he had mentioned earlier. Quite generous, but they were not very appreciated it seemed. A pity. Kuvarakh shook his head with disgust, "Myri's Balls! There were still bits of my old body staining the floor, and they're out there at the counter, shouting for new curtains! Preachin' Vultures!" Then he shrugged and grinned. "Aaah well, live and learn. I learned just how much damage a Nuit can take and still survive." Alric nearly inquired into what that damage might entail, but decided against it. After all, dismemberment was most likely a touchy subject. "Look, I don't mean to be presumptuous. You say you've had no contact with The Order? Eri still speaks of you as a member. Do you want me to omit mention of The Order when we get to the shop? I don't want to press you for details if they are private, but do YOU still consider yourself a member?" Alric was flattered that Eridanus still spoke of him. Especially after the large break in contact. When Kuvarakh asked if Alric still considered himself a member, however, Alric had to stop and think. He had not truly thought about the Order in a long while. Despite that, however, Alric wanted to think of himself as a member. It was a great way to meet like-minded fellows and learn. It was not an opportunity one wasted if they could help it. "I still think of myself as a member. I would be a fool to waste such valuable connections, especially after Ionu seemed to endorse it. I'm not one to scorn the god of illusion. And I'd love to discuss these things. I think this is rather important. I've been gone a long while and the sooner I catch up the better." Alric put the feather back in the book and gestured toward the city. "After you."

[Kuvarakh]

Predictably enough, Kuvarakh did most of the talking as they passed through the shuffled streets of Alvadas. They traded a few stories as they walked. Kuvarakh noted that most of what Alric discussed was from before the founding of The Order. He did not relay anything of where he'd been after Eridanus and Nira'lia left for Syliras. 'Perhaps when we get off the street, to the more discrete back rooms of the shop, he'll open up a bit.'

Still, Alric seemed quite interested to hear of things that had happened in the City of Illusions this past year. The summer blizzards, the Fall hauntings, which rumor said were caused by a mischievously interpreted wish by someone who wanted people to stay away from the Sealed Grounds in the interest of fallowing a treasure map. Whatever power had been at work had apparently decided that releasing ALL the ghosts would keep people away. Kuvarakh rolled his eyes. "For a full season, ghosts were rampant throughout the city, some playful, some melancholy, some angry, and ALL insane." he finished with a laugh.

"Of course, I had the advantage...if you want to call it that...of having suffered a possession the season before, so I had some experience dealing with that season's crop of attempted possessions. Helped a few others shake them off as well. My great "advantage" stemmed from the fact that the body I had when...well, actually, when we first met...was the body of a husband that had let his child die through dreadful negligence. His wife, went berserk, thinking he had deliberately murdered the poor thing, and tried to kill him in her fury. He pushed her into a river to get her away from him, but she drowned. He, then committed suicide in grief and guilt. Slit his wrists with a knife and bled out.

"I didn't know all this when I found the very well preserved body. It happened up in the foothills and was quite cold. Then, to compound matters, his home was made available as abandoned, and I took up residence there. Eventually the wife's ghost found her way back to "her home" and found "her husband" there."

Kuvarakh grimaced and let the ramifications of such an unhappy reunion sink in. "Needless to say I suffered an agony of spiritual retributions. Storms of flying objects in my home, Items I cherished, broken. She tried to strangle me, but when she found I didn't need to breath, I suffered the "sensation" of drowning, many times, as well as the crippling empathy of her grief. Whenever I tried to meditate, it ended in some kind of horrific nightmare vision. And as a Nuit, I meditate almost daily, to keep myself from developing the cynical disassociation from society that so many Nuit experience."

He turned an exaggerated grin to Alric. "Which is why I'm so insufferably cheerful all the time!"