Closed Peculiar Visitor (Alija)

[Belugnir]

50th of Winter, 516 AV. Somewhat after the afternoon’s ninth bell, Citadel Courtyard:

The oddest of trios had made their way up the dusty old path that led to the fort’s courtyard. A Follower and a Corpse carrier golem were accompanying a stray shipwrecked mercenary, one unfortunate Einar Belugnir, into the Citadel’s courtyard. Wordlessly, the metallic constructs would leave the man in front of the slightly open-peered gateway that led into the pathed graveyard. The carrier relieved itself of the cargo containing five human and a single Noktal’s corpse loaded onto a poorly made wooden sledge for the man to handle as he saw fit, seeing as they were apparently his belongings. Additionally, he was free to take up his rucksack and the stylized halberd that were dubbed ‘forfeit’ until his arrival here. Soon he stood alone in front of the colossal fortress complex that radiated with anything but comfort.

The air had grown cold while they were climbing, naturally, they were moving to a higher ground and night had fallen, yet the cold that now corroded thickly around him seemed as if it’d remain ignorant to any coat or cloak a man could don. He strapped the halberd to his back again, though loosely so, so that he could take it up in faster in case he needed to defend himself. As sane and polite as those metal cans seemed, he couldn’t help but doubt that it was a friendly encounter awaiting him beyond these doors, in the cold darkness that he could slightly peer into from this side of the open gateway. Pulling the sledge’s rope over his shoulder, he began to make way. Yes , he would hold onto the corpses, hell, maybe one of those sorcerers would find use for the rotten bastards and possibly not take his eyes as a ‘visitor’s fee’ instead.

Yet when he stepped into the courtyard, at the first sight, stoic, unnatural cold gave way to solid, unrelenting dread that shot up the young man’s spine. The eerie, misty graveyard that he beheld now in the dead of night, that made this supposed ‘Courtyard’ was a too accurate image any child would draw in their head while listening to tales of ghosts and witches and what-not-other unholy horrors. For a good minute he stood stunned, naturally frightened of the place, especially as he began hearing scattered, distant whispers, and more clearly seeing the shapes of what he assumed were ghosts… Then finally, after a good bit of consideration, he decided to brave whatever the hell this place was, placing his dignity first. If he was to die on this island, he certainly didn’t want to go the same way that all those witless alley drunkards who ended up afraid in some corner and shived by lowlifes did. Halberd’s shaft in one hand, the sledge’s rope in the other, over his back, he began following the paved trail across the graveyard, looking to put one foot ahead of the other and stay upon the path rather than looking forward to see where it actually led.

''Nikali's tits, this place keeps getting better by the minute...'', he mumbled sourly, eyes periodically locking at the wailing ghosts that passed him by.

[Alija]

At points, Alija felt like an ant in an anthill, dwarfed by the size and many layers of the Citadel and just another worker ant, scurrying about with things to cart around from wizard to wizard or some other job to do. Today was one of those days, the woman gripping a notice she was meant to have delivered to another wizard that had been tasked with making something for Arios. That wizard had demanded she go speak with a third, and at this point, she was fairly lost and completely confused as to whom she had to ask what.

She hadn't even noticed the time until she stumbled out into the Courtyard, feeling Leth's stare on her instantly. Was it really that late? In the constant workings of the Citadel, with those who never slept, her whole routine had been changed and distorted until very little was left. She slept when she had spare moments, and when she felt tired in those moments. She ate if she felt hungry, and if she found food when she felt hungry. With the survival part of living not important to the nuit she worked for, those parts just had to slot into place.

The knowledge that it was night brought more tiredness to her eyes, and she felt herself drained of energy as she tried to hurry through the Courtyard. No straying of the path this time - even if she was stupid enough to again, she was too tired to show enough curiosity.

That was, until she spotted the new arrival (or so she assumed, from his general look: too alive, too fresh). He was moving up the path with his eyes down, and with the mist between them too, she doubted he had seen her yet. There was a weapon in one hand, one she didn't recognise, and a rope in the other, clearly pulling something along. What it was, however, remained a mystery for the next chime, as it was hidden behind him.

She made a few steps down the paved path towards him, before stopping, not wanting to startle someone armed. The note, now forgotten, was scrunched and pushed into a pocket as she watched him, trying to make sense of the living being, all while feeling her heart leap with joy from finding yet another live thing. It was horrible, feeling like this simply from seeing a human, but she couldn't deny it. Being surrounded by corpses all day, she knew what she truly preferred.

As he approached a little more, Alija realised her staring, realised how stiffly she was blocking his path. In a loose turn, she found herself walking beside him, wanting to outstretch a hand in greeting but knowing he would never take it. Her mind was full of questions, about who he was, why he was here, his past, his future, his present. Did he know what this place was? Did he know what sort of fate could await him? She was lucky - she knew magic, she knew it well. Was he useful?

A quick glance to the sledge he pulled behind him answered her question, at least half way, and caused her to jump away from him, a little alarmed at the corpses. Dead, actually dead, not even nuit. The giant bird was nothing, except a little impressive, but the human bodies, slumped together, not moving, made her sick. Perhaps even more sick as she knew that the Nuit were just going to use them as their skins when their old corpses fell apart. The arrival of the dead bodies was the first time she truly thought about where they got them from, and she hated it.

"Are you... Did you..." she began, then decided to stick to simple business terms, knowing they would distract her from what she was actually trying to ask, "Are you a regular supplier?" Even putting it like that made her revolted. She hoped the answer wasn't yes, because she knew her curiosity wouldn't let her leave it at that. No matter how disgusting the whole business was.

[Belugnir]

He was just exchanging an unpleasant grimace with one of the ghosts that floated by him when the frame of a person came forth from the mist, before hopping away like a startled lamb. Ein hardly took the heart-racing surprise well either, as he didn't notice the girl before she was almost within arm's reach. The sudden awareness of a new individual nearby, and at a startling closeness, at that, caused him to tighten his grip on the weapon and slide one foot far back across the ground, getting halfway into a fighting stance before the stranger spoke up. Only then did he realize he was met by a woman, and, compared to the local atmosphere, she seemed disappointingly harmless at that, now that he actually took a moment to look.

He'd let go of the rope in his left hand to press it over his chest, where one startled heart had started beating unbearably fast, and exhale in relief. A moment later his brow rose as the girl struggled with her own tongue before asking him a question. It took him several moments of confusion to answer, and rather sourly, at that.

''If it'll beget me a bed a bite of food, then I'll fill in for five of your regular suppliers.'' He was quite relieved that there were no carcasses digging out of the ground to grab at his feet or anything of the sort at this point, and with the first actual person to greet him here being a seemingly harmless girl, he felt confident enough to give away the shade of an attitude. And if she were already asking him about being a supplier, that meant they did actually do find whatever use for the corpses like the ones he was hauling here, it meant a day's worth of his labor wasn't for naught. That only encouraged him further, so much so that he began idly shoving and weaving away with his weapon in the general direction of a ghost that seemed to take a distant interest into the pile of bodies he carried. ''Shoo. Go haunt some tree, those are mine.'', the man spoke, dead serious, in the idle defense of his cargo. Naturally, he knew nothing of ghosts, but any superstitious granny would assume one would joyfully hop into a dead body to possess it if they were given the chance. As the ghost continued on its way, Einar's attention went back to the woman, his stance completely relaxed at this point.

''Either way... who am I talking with here?'', he asked, reaching down for the rope of his sledge. Again, Ein knew next to nothing of the inhabitants of the citadel either, he couldn't even tell if this woman was one of those undead sorcerers or a regular human like him, so he was free to assume both ways.

[Alija]

He was as startled as she was, with his fighting stance and firm grip on his weapon. Alija took a quick intake of breath, hoping he would clearly see she couldn't do anything to harm him anyway, even if she wanted to. He did, thankfully, and let go of the rope pulling the sledge of mangled bodies. It almost made her hope that she had imagined it, but there it still stood, waiting to be moved and investigated by the flickering of ghosts.

His answer was not one she wanted - and not one she expected, either - and the woman wrinkled her nose with almost childlike disgust at what he was implying she was. Clearly, he hadn't been on this island too long, or she had been there long enough to be recognised as undead. Either way, she didn't like it. Flexing her fingers, she took a look at her hands, at her feet, trying to figure out why he had said that. She wasn't looking the healthiest, she needed a good wash and there were large black bags under her eyes, but she wasn't rotting or falling apart. No, there was no way she was the problem - she refused to be like those corpses she worked for.

His little fight with the ghosts amused her, almost enough to have her forget what he had called her and, almost enough to bring a faint smile to her lips. "You can't fight them," she chimed, not sure whether she was warning him or just sharing an interesting fact, "But you're safe on the path." She knew that well, trying not to think of her adventures in the mist. There had been so many and they weren't all friendly. "As safe as you can be on Sahova, anyway," she added, leaving this as more of a warning than anything else. He was clueless and on a place like this, being clueless was little more than being dead, "Don't agree to anything where they might be experimenting on you." She had heard the screams, heard the stories. Anything alive had to look out for itself and for the other live things. On this place, race didn't matter - only a heartbeat did.

With her little warning out of the way, she decided to answer his question before he got too scared and decided not to trust her either. "Alija. I'm Alija Piper, a Pulser, alive. I'm an apprentice here. Don't worry though, I won't harm you." She was probably one of the few people he could trust. She couldn't tell him that outright, but hopefully he would understand that soon enough. "Do you want me to show you the Quarters? I might have some food there. Maybe..." her eyes lingered on the dead bodies. She knew that they had a place to store them, but tried to avoid ever finding it. The idea repulsed her enough to avoid her curiosity. "Who are they?" she ended up asking, not wanting to know, really. But she had to. They were people once too.

[Belugnir]

Naturally, he couldn't understand the reasoning behind her dissatisfaction, if not pique, with his answer. He'd never laid eyes on a Nuit, and he had no idea of the fact that they took up new corpses as their vessels when the old ones decomposed beyond preservation. Her few words that followed afterward, regarding the ghosts and the path would normally be a welcome explanation, simple facts, no pointless blabber on how and why something works the way it does. Yet he had already gathered that here, on Sahova, knowing the tiniest detail could be a weighing stone that one's life depended upon. He wanted to know more about those ghosts, about this courtyard, about this woman even. Not because it interested him, but because it was likely more than useful to know.

Ein barely held in a scoffing snort at the assumptions that he'd let some walking sack of decay experiment on him and that he could possibly see her as a threat at this point. Still, however, if she was an apprentice, that meant she knew her way around at least one branch of magic, and that alone was cause enough not to underestimate her. It also made him wonder if he should reveal the fact that he knew a bit of sorcery himself or keep that knowledge to himself.

''Right... So they call us Pulsers.'', his tone was less than friendly. ''And so long as your 'Quarters' don't include burial coffins donned with steel spikes on the inside, please do.'', he added sourly, imagining that if this was the castle's courtyard, the interior would most likely resemble a colossal conjoining of a torture room and a tomb.

''As for these poor bastards...'', his gaze went back to the carcasses he was hauling.

''I was hired by this fat moron here,'' he poked the bladeless end of his weapon's shaft at the bloated corpse of a pig-faced man, donned in what would've been rather prestigious clothing, were in not ruined and stained beyond recognition in a storm and nature's abuse that the body went through after its death. ''To keep his blasted ship safe from pirates and their ilk while he sailed here to sell some other unfortunate fools' carcasses to your apparent teachers in the castle, or however the hell all that bugger works. As for the other four, well, they were members of the crew, all drowned, impaled, or battered across a rock to death in the storm the other day. So when I woke up on the beach this morning, I decided I might as well try conducting business. And seeing as the only ride home is scattered across the sea floor, with gods-know-what likely munching on the original 'merchandise', I figured that the bloated corpses of my employer and crew members would have to do, better they feed me than feed the fishes.'', naturally, he hadn't the faintest idea of literally eating the bloody bastards, merely selling them for the sake of getting by. ''And as for the vulture there, well, he tried to take himself a fine bite while I was hauling the whoresons out of the sea.'', Ein shoved the bottom of the halberd's handle into the Noktal's beak with a clear sign of pride over his kill. ''It didn't go so well for you, did it?'', he scoffed the dead creature.

After the little bit of victorious mockery towards his prey, the man proceeded to pull the sledge's rope over his shoulder again and make a step forward, expecting the girl to lead the way, before stopping for a moment.

''In fact, hold on, what the hell am I to do with the bastards anyway? And it's not that I care much, but what use do them warlocks have for bloated carcasses to begin with?'', again, getting to know the most basic hows and whys of any place was the only ticket to actually living there, so he would ask, even though it didn't interest him in the least.

[Alija]

His tone was not welcoming, but that was to be expected in a place like this. She tried to ignore it, keeping her's as bright as possible, although with her fatigue and sapped strength, it turned out to be more like his own sour voice. "They aren't much better," she sighed, starting to walk briskly through the Courtyard, only stopping occasionally to make sure he was keeping up, "No spikes, but no better than coffins. Even if you have the money." She had tried to buy her way into somewhere nicer to stay. Other than sleeping in the labs, however, that didn't seem to exist - in the land of the undead, living quarters were useless.

As they walked, he gave his little story, and the corpses' story too. He, it seemed, was a simple mercenary who was tasked to guard a ship, although with the storms, a simple weapon couldn't protect them. Trapped on this cursed island with the corpses of his crewmates. She felt sorry for him, she really did. At least she had come here by choice, come here to stay. He seemed to be someone who had simply drawn the short straw and ended up on this hunk of rock. Luckily he seemed to be able to stick up for himself. Or take down giant birds. Which had to be worth something.

"The Nuit need them," she began, sighing and wondering how much she would have to explain. She didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. "They need new bodies. They have..." She felt like being sick thinking about it. Where did the bodies come from? Ships like the one this man came from. Were people killed just for this? She hoped not, but something in her gut told her that they would be. "There's a place. I can take you there, too, I think. Where they go to get new bodies.." Hopefully, he would say no. Hopefully, he'd do all that without her, so she didn't have to think about it.

Continuing to walk in the general direction of the Citadel, she kept moving, eyes away from the ghosts and the mysteries of the mist. Away from the man and his corpses too, although she could still see them in the back of her mind. Disgusting, bloated dead things. At least they weren't rotting - yet.

"I - I don't know your name," she finally realised, stopping to ask it from him, "Who are you? Where do you come from?" There was more she wanted to know, of course, but one at a time. Perhaps he didn't want to tell her anything - and she would understand that too. Going 'round telling strangers your life story was never a good idea, especially not on a place like Sahova.

[Belugnir]

Well, he was both disappointed and somewhat thankful when he heard the brief description of the rooms. It was apparently going to leave a lot to be desired, but it won't be as bad as he expected either. And above that, the man was ever coinless, no matter his efforts to change the fact. And on that matter, it stood to warm his heart a bit that any rich bastard who wanted apprenticeship from those abominations would have to live in conditions that coin wouldn't improve. As she went on to vaguely describe the hows and whys of the apparent warehouse of corpses that no doubt stood somewhere within the castle, the woman hardly left any space to doubt upon the fact that she detested talking about it. Apparently the Nuit had to change their bodies, he only imagined that an undead too would eventually rot away, not unlike a regular corpse.

''So they wear carcasses like a fuckin' shirt...'',the man idly spat in distant disgust at the thought, mumbling more to himself than actually talking to the girl, though then his tone did return to normal with: ''And don't offer to take me somewhere when you obviously detest the place. Besides, I expect to be paid for those rotten bastards and I don't see you being the resident cashier.''

A few more steps, and she would've stopped to ask his name and his origins.

''Einar Belugnir. From Sunberth.'', he stated bluntly, coming to a brief stop as well. He really didn't care to tell her anything more, and truth be told, he hardly had any fond tales to describe his hometown with. Before continuing on, he took an idle sniff, after which his gaze went to the cargo he was hauling.

''As a matter of fact, fuck it. You'll be taking me to wherever the hell they keep their new suits. Those bastards are starting to decay.'', his tone was plainly enough displaying the fact that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, as that'd be a fine risk that the corpses he worked on getting here all day would probably go to waste if he didn't turn them in as soon as possible.

[Alija]

Carcasses like a shirt... he was right. Only they weren't the type to wear it down until it had been repaired enough times to be undistinguishable - they chucked it away after it got a bit dirty and got a new one. The worst thing about it was that it wasn't a shirt. It was a person, who had to go and die so they could have something to wear. Disgusting.

Her disgust was clearly evident, as was her relief as he told her she didn't need to take him. She didn't ever want to see that place, no matter what she would get out of it. Her entire body relaxed as she forced herself to look away from the dead, shivering a tiny bit at the thought at what might have happened. Focusing on his words, his name, his hometown, she let the stories she knew of Sunberth distract her. It wasn't a nice place, she knew that even without listening to his blunt tone when he answered. Not a nice place at all. Most likely better than Sahova, knowing how horrible this place was, but still not-

"What?" she found herself snapping involuntarily, turning quickly to take him in, scars and dead bodies and all. Surely he knew how much she hated even thinking about that place, how much it made her want to puke. And now, after letting her feel so relieved that she didn't have to, he took it all away from her. What was she, just a thing to be played with when he felt like it? She wasn't that. She was nothing but that. And despite his reason and his tone, she wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him that so much.

"I won't be taking you anywhere," she said firmly, staring at the trembling fists her hands had made, "I'm not going anywhere near that place." She'd rather be dead than think about it some more. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax one fist, letting it fall open and still by her side. "It's that way," she pointed in a vague area, hoping her directions would be enough for him to just leave her alone, "Just head that direction, it's a separate building. I'm sure if you ask anyone for it, they'll tell you." Shuddering some more, the woman moved sharply through the mist to where the path split. One way was his destination, the other was hers.

"Just ask for the Palsa Hydrasa." The name stung in her throat as she took another look at the dead bodies, lifeless and forgotten. "What... what were their names?" she finally asked, voice gravelly and uncertain. It was clear he didn't care much more about them than he would with any other goods. He wouldn't remember them, but she had to. She had to tell someone too, let them know of their fate, no matter how horrifying. "Were they from Sunberth too?"

[Belugnir]

''You heard me, damn it.'', was the first thing that he wanted to say. It'd probably have been followed by a threatening, sharp step forward too, if Ein wasn't all too busy staring at the girl as if she were the oddest oddity, and so he remained silent as a standing rock. He hardly ever had the intent or the ability to toy with people, though she certainly was shaken up by this Palsa Hydrasa, or whatever the hell it's called. And he hardly could believe someone who lived around a literal haunted graveyard would come off so unnerved about a bunch of dead nobodies from a hole like Sunberth. Following on the path, he was about to go off into the dense mist in the direction she pointed him in. Then, when she told him that he should ask for directions, he stopped dead in his tracks, let go of the rope, turned towards her from the seemly distance and gave her the most indifferent glare of narrowed eyes that the world could hope to give birth to.

''If I ask anyone for it they'll tell me, huh? And who exactly am I to ask, woman?'', his hand went to point at the passing visage of a pale ghost. ''Maybe this fellow would like to help me?'', meanwhile the ghost kept on its way, drifting through the air and producing an idle wail, never paying any mind to the grumpy man... who, after several more grumbles, rose his head, guessing that he should be thankful that there were any sentient living beings in this place to begin with. She was the first creature that walked on two legs, talked, and wasn't trying to gauge his eyes out that he met on this gods forsaken island.

''The pig-face went by Marco or something, of the others I haven't the foggiest. And yes they were all from Sunberth.'', he really never cared to learn their names. They were murderers, thieves and worse besides, slave traders. ''And trust me, none of them neither need nor deserve your care or pity.'', hardly do dead men need anything to begin with. And no matter how lowly someone might regard him for trying to make coin off of dead men, Ein really couldn't see selling corpses being anywhere half as cruel as selling living bodies that can yet feel and suffer into slavery. Just the thought of it had him spitting onto the fat man's corpse before he even realized it. His gaze went back to the cold pathway he had to pursue through blind fog.

''Anyway. If you came here to study under those rott'n whoresons, you'll have to swallow that disgust of yours sooner or later. You can either do it right now, take me to that Palsa of yours, then stroll me off to wherever the hell I can lay my head without some bloody ghost poking my eyes out, and earn a couple of worthwhile favors on the way. Or, at the very least, you could expand your kindness so far as to tell me what bleedin' turns to take to finish up what I need, and then this lowlife corpse trader will be out of your sight and mind.'', his tone was still as brash as ever, with a pride-injured assumption that she was looking down on him, yet it also resonated with the roots of a cold understanding towards Sahova and those who made their home there, an understanding that Einar was merely beginning to grasp at. Yet he was somehow able to find comfort in it all. No doubt, this place was far deadlier and far more unforgiving even when compared to Sunberth, but here, he could freely assume that every grain of dirt, every lifeless leaf of a season past was out to get him, he was free to think that it was him in a cold war against everything that existed. There was no possibility of false hope, no ground for a fools trust, and no seeds from which betrayal, one of Sunberth's most foul fruits, could bloom. In the mercenary's eyes, Sahova was, for all its apparent cold cruelty, honest with those who dwelt there.

So in that light, he would seek to come clean with this woman from the start. If she would step over a petty disgust in order to help and thus, somewhat oblige him, he'd gladly keep to his word and grant her a favor or two when she needed, and that'd be ground to build up an useful acquaintance upon. And if she would rather have nothing to do with him, then the same would go for himself.

''So what'll it be?'', came the all too reasonable question.

[Alija]

His words hit her hard, and she sunk in her stance, writhing on the spot. No one would care. They'd only care enough to whisk him away to take his body, whether it was to live in or experiment on. Alija probably was one of the few that would take him there, as much as she hated. With a deep sigh, she stepped forward in his direction, not quite committing herself but just about.

"Who else would give it to them?" she decided to ignore what he said before, about help and the lack of it. She had to show him she was human; more importantly, show herself that too. "They may have been horrible people, but they're still people. This fate you take them to is worse than death." To be used like that, like a shirt. Alija wriggled on the spot, hands flickering back to the note she was meant to have been delivering and folding it tightly, keeping her fingers moving. She didn't know who they were, true, but she could see them, and that was what made it all horrible.

His next words were brash and a little cold and she saw the sense in helping him. Not only from a human aspect either, but from something a Nuit would see instantly. Favours. Even if she hated everything he did, she would get a few favours from him, or at least, feel like he owed her something. "Fine." Her reply was quick, short, and didn't leave much of her own thoughts up for grabs. She took another step, finding the path leading her too easily, followed up by another. "I'll take you."

Reaching the man, then overtaking him, she moved swiftly, trying not to think of much. The mist enveloped her like an aura, swirling around her but letting herself shine through anyway. The woman walked briskly, each movement sharp and unsteady, echoing her uncertainty. If she wanted to, she could just disappear, forget about all this, move on. But too many things tied her now, so she kept going.

Suddenly, she spun, freezing in her spot to stare at him hard, wondering whether it was worth checking his aura. For lies, and for whatever else it could tell her. No. She'd give him his privacy. "When are you leaving?" she questioned softly, voice steady in a way that showed him that it was the right choice. In case he was stupid, or too curious, or had some other flaw, she added, "Or will you stay?" Gods help him if the answer was yes.