Timestamp: Early Winter, 514 AV,
Rats scurried in his wake. He didn't mind it so much, though in truth the accommodations could be richer. Avene had tastes, and they ran to more heady stuff. However, the location was convenient because it was a long forgotten waterway that tapped thermal heat from within Cyphrus and drew it to the city of Riverfall. In the past, it had been worked by magic to carry heat directly to several of the towers in Riverfall. The hot pipes passed in spirals beneath the stone floors, warming them for various priests and priestesses of whatever the religion the tower represented.
But no more. In the two hundred years, Cyphrus' climate had changed. Going from harsh winters to more milder scenarios, the year round comfort had been unneeded and the maintenance had been shut off. Now the waterways and its cisterns that kept the liquid warm were empty save for small trickles in unforgotten chambers. No true mages of stone roamed the walkways and insured Semele's shifting whims didn't alter its course.
That left vast Cisterns empty beneath Riverfall. And most went undiscovered, though occasionally, like this one, they were brought back into use by unorthodox individuals. Avene was under orders and his mission was clear. There was a failed child of Uldr in the city, one that had tried and had not succeeded in starting a war with the Dhani and Myrians in Falyndar.
Poor choice in victims was what Avene chalked it up too. Why would anyone want to start a war with creatures that were less than human? Dhani were no better than Zith, in Avene's eyes. They didn't even make good slaves and using their forms had left him a bitter taste in his mouth.
Regardless. It was up to him to set the Wretched One on a better path or punish her in Uldr's eyes. And to do that... to start that... Avene had brought her to his lab. He glanced around with distain again. Laboratory? One could hardly call it that now could one? He'd outfitted it with benches, tables, and cages which held various creatures. Avene coveted the living even in his undeath. And he would have perhaps desired Evalin more had she been still living and not already into her Nuit life. Sure, she would not age, not as humans and his 'pets' did. But in her own way, she'd mark the passage of time trapped in slow decay and the filth of flesh that would never quite meet up to her expectations.
He strode towards her.
Capturing her had been easy. She was his even before she knew what hit her. They'd passed, by chance, in the market and he'd felt the pull of her gnosis. But it was less than his pull and he'd flexed his privilege and beckoned her to follow him with an snear for her inferiority. When he'd seen the familiar, he'd gave a second order. "Send that thing away... a thousand miles south... and tell it not to return until you bid it." He added, the command low in his voice. She was his, by Uldr's will, and there was nothing Evalin could do but follow.
"Now behave mage. You will not defy me." His command was firm and it echoed through her own gnosis mark.
He'd wandered the city, first the market and then the stone behemoth proper, making purchases and treating her like a slave. Each item he picked up he piled into her arms with a soft 'carry that and do not break it' until Evalin was loaded up ike a pack mule. His direction of wandering was aimless and seemingly random until it grew dark. Then he'd reached over, ran his hands across her vision, and had melded her eyes closed drew the flesh together like a master scupltler would massaging clay.
"Our lord grants many boons on those of his children that are faithful. In my living I was something of an artist. In my undeath he's granted me the ability to craft flesh like clay. If you behave yourself, I'll set them to rights when we get to where we are going. If you protest like a spoiled child, I'll cut off your air and your ability to speak and drag you forcefully." He said with a polite voice, though amusement was heavy in his tone. He saw Evalin as a plaything, that much was true, and was treating her as such as they moved.
The Wretched One, robbed of her eyesight, would have to stumble about following the sound of his voice. Sometimes a guiding hand touched her elbow. Sometimes she was impatiently shoved. A door opened. One closed. There were steps up, steps down, and stone hallways that they passed through endlessly. By the echos of their footsteps, she could sense narrow halls, wide open chambers, and narrow places again. Once he grabbed her head and forced it down, though she realized shortly thereafter that they were ducking something low passing overhead.
When they'd walked half the night, seemingly in circles, he'd halted, released her of her burdens, and told her to 'sit' after sweeping his hand across her face again, remolding her flesh, and giving her eyesight back.
The only place to sit was a table... a work table that looked more like something a mortician would have than an undead. She was in a huge cistern, with some of the walls filled with cages that contained not only animals, but monsters and people as well. Some were empty, and throughout the whole thing a steaming stream flowed, coming from high on one wall and dispersing low through another small opening.
"Now... strip. I want to see the whole of your form. I want you to show me all your marks, what Gods you serve, and tell me all of your abilities. I like to know what my new toys can do." Avene said softly, looking thoughtful.
He had himself a small body, human, of a man that perhaps looked more like an accountant than a fierce Desolate One. The man was mousy, nondescript in coloring though richly dressed. He walked to a desk, took a seat that faced Evalin, and began to write.
"Well, speak up. I don't have all day." The man said, not bothering to introduce himself.
Rats scurried in his wake. He didn't mind it so much, though in truth the accommodations could be richer. Avene had tastes, and they ran to more heady stuff. However, the location was convenient because it was a long forgotten waterway that tapped thermal heat from within Cyphrus and drew it to the city of Riverfall. In the past, it had been worked by magic to carry heat directly to several of the towers in Riverfall. The hot pipes passed in spirals beneath the stone floors, warming them for various priests and priestesses of whatever the religion the tower represented.
But no more. In the two hundred years, Cyphrus' climate had changed. Going from harsh winters to more milder scenarios, the year round comfort had been unneeded and the maintenance had been shut off. Now the waterways and its cisterns that kept the liquid warm were empty save for small trickles in unforgotten chambers. No true mages of stone roamed the walkways and insured Semele's shifting whims didn't alter its course.
That left vast Cisterns empty beneath Riverfall. And most went undiscovered, though occasionally, like this one, they were brought back into use by unorthodox individuals. Avene was under orders and his mission was clear. There was a failed child of Uldr in the city, one that had tried and had not succeeded in starting a war with the Dhani and Myrians in Falyndar.
Poor choice in victims was what Avene chalked it up too. Why would anyone want to start a war with creatures that were less than human? Dhani were no better than Zith, in Avene's eyes. They didn't even make good slaves and using their forms had left him a bitter taste in his mouth.
Regardless. It was up to him to set the Wretched One on a better path or punish her in Uldr's eyes. And to do that... to start that... Avene had brought her to his lab. He glanced around with distain again. Laboratory? One could hardly call it that now could one? He'd outfitted it with benches, tables, and cages which held various creatures. Avene coveted the living even in his undeath. And he would have perhaps desired Evalin more had she been still living and not already into her Nuit life. Sure, she would not age, not as humans and his 'pets' did. But in her own way, she'd mark the passage of time trapped in slow decay and the filth of flesh that would never quite meet up to her expectations.
He strode towards her.
Capturing her had been easy. She was his even before she knew what hit her. They'd passed, by chance, in the market and he'd felt the pull of her gnosis. But it was less than his pull and he'd flexed his privilege and beckoned her to follow him with an snear for her inferiority. When he'd seen the familiar, he'd gave a second order. "Send that thing away... a thousand miles south... and tell it not to return until you bid it." He added, the command low in his voice. She was his, by Uldr's will, and there was nothing Evalin could do but follow.
"Now behave mage. You will not defy me." His command was firm and it echoed through her own gnosis mark.
He'd wandered the city, first the market and then the stone behemoth proper, making purchases and treating her like a slave. Each item he picked up he piled into her arms with a soft 'carry that and do not break it' until Evalin was loaded up ike a pack mule. His direction of wandering was aimless and seemingly random until it grew dark. Then he'd reached over, ran his hands across her vision, and had melded her eyes closed drew the flesh together like a master scupltler would massaging clay.
"Our lord grants many boons on those of his children that are faithful. In my living I was something of an artist. In my undeath he's granted me the ability to craft flesh like clay. If you behave yourself, I'll set them to rights when we get to where we are going. If you protest like a spoiled child, I'll cut off your air and your ability to speak and drag you forcefully." He said with a polite voice, though amusement was heavy in his tone. He saw Evalin as a plaything, that much was true, and was treating her as such as they moved.
The Wretched One, robbed of her eyesight, would have to stumble about following the sound of his voice. Sometimes a guiding hand touched her elbow. Sometimes she was impatiently shoved. A door opened. One closed. There were steps up, steps down, and stone hallways that they passed through endlessly. By the echos of their footsteps, she could sense narrow halls, wide open chambers, and narrow places again. Once he grabbed her head and forced it down, though she realized shortly thereafter that they were ducking something low passing overhead.
When they'd walked half the night, seemingly in circles, he'd halted, released her of her burdens, and told her to 'sit' after sweeping his hand across her face again, remolding her flesh, and giving her eyesight back.
The only place to sit was a table... a work table that looked more like something a mortician would have than an undead. She was in a huge cistern, with some of the walls filled with cages that contained not only animals, but monsters and people as well. Some were empty, and throughout the whole thing a steaming stream flowed, coming from high on one wall and dispersing low through another small opening.
"Now... strip. I want to see the whole of your form. I want you to show me all your marks, what Gods you serve, and tell me all of your abilities. I like to know what my new toys can do." Avene said softly, looking thoughtful.
He had himself a small body, human, of a man that perhaps looked more like an accountant than a fierce Desolate One. The man was mousy, nondescript in coloring though richly dressed. He walked to a desk, took a seat that faced Evalin, and began to write.
"Well, speak up. I don't have all day." The man said, not bothering to introduce himself.
