Closed [Gug Andjak]A birthday amongst the dead[Edreina]

[Clyde Sullins]

42 Spring 514 It was a sad day. A day many would celebrate with friends and food and festivities. However on this day, the day of Clyde Sullin's twenty first birthday, he was alone. Alone amongst the dead, amongst the undead nuit, amongst many beings and entities that did not celebrate life and did not care for this singular pulser who was yet another year longer lived. So perhaps it was a sad day. Clyde found himself alive yet on this isle which seemed to be trying its darnedest to make him not live to see another day, let alone another year. And who did he have to celebrate with? Friends? Family? Loved ones? He had none. For these reasons and many others Clyde found himself in a deep melancholy, sitting alone in a lab against the edge of a Magecrafting pedestal, holding a book. It was a book he had written a few seasons past, at the time quite an achievement in putting to quill his understanding of Reimancy. But like him it had been ignored, left unused to its potential... Clyde sat and read over the front of the book once more. A Treatise on Reimancy: by Clyde Sullins He let out a sigh, not bothering to open the book. He had written it, so he knew the contents of it well enough. What would he gain by leafing through it? Instead, he continued to sit, and let out another sigh.

[Edreina]

Every day, Edreina's limp grew just a hair better, and she faintly stronger. Tired though she was, nothing could keep her in Annalisa's quarters. Literally. For the first time since being taken captive, Edreina had gained enough of her Mistress's trust to be allowed to wander Sahova during the day while she worked on her various arcane experiments.

Her first day of relative freedom, the Svefra decided that she would spend it getting to better know the layout of Sahova. It was useless for her to be stuck somewhere and know nothing about it. Besides, the challenge of learning the Citadel was nearly enough to distract her from the horrible situation that was quickly coming to be disconcertingly normal.

Bare feet made less noise as she moved across the stone halls of the Gug Andjak, the Labs, she had learned. Most Nuit were not entirely aware of what went on around them, Annalisa had explained, but it did not hurt to be cautious. Any Nuit that gave her trouble would find her to be a perfectly placid, if lost, little slave and, if they continue, a bit of well used hypnotism would surely do the trick. If worst came to worst, she would just hope that she could outrun the slow-moving creatures and that their magic would not catch up to her. It was dangerous, and a bit thrilling, if she allowed herself to think in such a way.

Plain brown leather pants were laced over her still muscular legs save for a few inches on the side of one of her thighs. There, the laces had been left open so that the ugly red wound marring her freckled, honey-colored skin was open to the air. Linen bound her chest once more, by the grace of Wizard Marin, giving her some semblance of the woman she once had been.

But, if anyone who had once knew her looked upon her now, they would be startled by the changes. Skin that had always been tan for a redhead was slowly losing color in the darkened halls of Sahova. A normally wild mane of long, copper hair was tamed into a plait that reached down past her shoulder blades and swayed unevenly with each limping step. Tall cheek bones had been made more prominent by a lack of food, and the muscle she had always prided herself on was slowly diminishing. When her leg healed, she would return to hours of exercise a day, despite how it made her stomach gnaw at itself. When she escaped, she could not be a pallid little weakling with little chance of surviving on her own. The few living wizards of the undead Isle may not have seen any benefit in a well maintained body, but Edreina did. Even countless days of being locked in a tiny room without even a puddle for her to flop around in did not keep the Svefra from surrendering to a life without physical strength. Unable to swim, she had been forced to seek other less efficient means of exercise.

Today, Edreina had decided that she would start at the ground floor and work her way down into the belly of the labs, if only to see how deep they reached.

Empty labs were passed, one after another. In between, she would see a black-lipped Nuit hunched over some plants or some tome of gibberish. On the whole, it was slowly shaping up to be a disappointing day. She was learning the number of floors, but nothing about them individually. She took a deep breath of the faintly must air and-

-heard a sigh. Since when did Nuits sigh? Was there a human wizard, here? Rising to her toes in order to move a bit more quietly, Edreina moved to the nearest doorway and peeked around into the lab. Again, just another man staring at a book. But... this one was not open? Instead of studying something within, Edreina could tell from where she stood that he was just looking at the cover, musing over something perhaps.

What are you up to, little mage... the redhead wondered, leaning against the door, slightly inside of it now. Her curiosity was getting the better of her but, unlike last time, she knew the consequences of a lapse in judgement. Curious, but cautious, the Svefra hoped she had learned to be. In the end, it would come down to whether or not this harsh reminder of the way the world worked had truly served to rein in her trusting, kind nature.

Abruptly, her injured leg trembled and then gave out, sending her to the ground with a sharp curse. From the ground, Edreina looked up, utterly still as she waited to see how the mage she had been watching would react to her being there. Scenarios and possible reactions started to play out in her head as she prepared herself for a handful of eventualities. The best way to start any of them, she decided, was an apology: "Pardon, sir. I did not mean to intrude." A season ago, one would not have heard anything aside from sarcasm in the once proud, blue eyed woman's "ma'am"s and "sir"s. Being a slave had changed thing.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde was broken from his melancholic revery by a clatter before him, as a living female human fell to the floor directly in front of him. From a cursory examination she seemed somewhat of a mess. Clearly the isle of the undead was not working for her betterment physically. Not that it usually did so for any living beings to walk these halls. But she particularly seemed to be having a hard time of it, and was not doing to well. If nothing else the fact that she had crumpled to a heap directly in front of him was evidence of her current standing in regards to health. "Pardon, sir. I did not mean to intrude." Clyde set down the book beside him, next to his pack which he tended to carry with him which he had set aside as he rested, and stood to his feet. As he rose he grabbed the blue wooden staff that had been resting on the pedestal next to him and his pack, and took the few paces over to the woman. As he did, he noticed a few more things about her. Freckled somewhat tanned skin, which meant she probably spent a good bit of time in the sun... Or perhaps she usually did... Logically that could also mean she simply had not been on Sahova long, and in her former life she had been amongst the sun often, and the tan simply had not had time to fade... She had red hair tied back behind her, and some kind of wound on her skin was left open for all to see. Perhaps airing out? Or perhaps some other reason for it... Standing over her Clyde looked down at the female lying across the ground. Letting out another sigh, Clyde put out his free left hand in front of her for her to take, an offering for him to pull her to her feet. Assuming she took his grip he would make a heave and pull her to her feet, and then lead her back to sit on the pedestal he had formerly been resting upon, holding her about the forearm. Perhaps a short rest would do her good. And besides, he did not think it was a good idea to let go of her unless it was to help her sit down, since it seemed likely she would just crumple to the ground again. If she took his offer and came back to sit on the pedestal with him, she would find a book sitting directly next to where she sat, the same book Clyde had been looking at when she first saw him, with the front cover still visible. Clyde would wait a few moments, set his staff back down, and then turn to the female, and extend his right hand to her. “Clyde, Clyde Sullins. And you are?” “Oh, and what are you about? Whats your skill? I find everyone around here has some skill or use of some sort. Living in particular don't last long if they don't have some use. So whats yours?” This was not asked in a rude or accusatory way, more of a curious fashion. His question in fact was made in a similar fashion to a child asking another child what their favorite thing to eat was.