This One's Optimistic (CH2) [open]

[Lucalrith]

this one drops a payload; fodder for the animals

Low tide came to the fisher village of Haddock around five in the afternoon, meaning that Luca and the thoroughbred mare he'd liberated from a farm outside Hatche could set off in another hour or so. At that moment, the sun was still halcyon gold, glittering on the gentle wrinkles of the Eashin sea, and the water foamed over the shoal he'd need to cross to continue on to the capitol. It was shallow enough that he and Express Delivery (a name given ironically; he'd yet to see her gallop), or 'Liv' for short, would be able to cross if pressed. Their cargo wouldn't survive the experience, though.

He'd made the arduous trek up the western coast of the Eashin sea because, for the first time in many centuries, more profit could be made smuggling restricted and illicit imports through the front gates of Overna than the southern docks. The increased surveillance had hit the naval smugglers in the quadruplet cities hard.

Their loss was Luca's gain. A foot in the door. He'd been hired in Briar to pick up a hidden cache nestled in the short cliffs north of Hatche, then deliver them to a merchant in Overna - if that sounded like a sloppy, inefficient plan, that's because it was. Apparently, the trade had been set months ago, but the vessel they'd initially hired had been selected at random by the Empire's Inquisitors for inspection. The crew had dumped their goods along the Northwestern shores in a last ditch effort to retain some of their reputation.

He sat cross-legged on pebbled shores, shielded from view between a grazing rose grey mare and an unhitched cart. There were three hefty crates filled with turnips and carrots and potatoes and other such roots and tubers stacked on the cart, all wrapped in wax cloth and chilled with an enchanted block of ice, and buried deep beneath those vegetables were hessian sacks that would clink suspiciously if a guard decided to check the crate's contents - this week, Luca was moving about fifty pounds of Cassandra's Truth, an alchemical inhalant that allegedly granted the user visions of things to come. Luca was skeptical, himself. He'd been offered a huff in one of Briar's dens, which he'd declined to his immediate gratification; it'd taken less than a minute for the other thief to begin foaming at the mouth and staring at the ceiling tiles as if they depicted the face of Eshael after taking a hit, so Luca was pretty confident it was just a strong hallucinogen.

To the North, the shilouette of Overna blocked a daunting figure against the clear skies, just as visible as the towers of Kolton Castle looming over his back despite the fact that he was far closer to the small barony than the capitol. A shrimp trawler from the fishing village bobbed in the distance, idling down the coastline, and he wondered at how mild the emerald waters of the Eashin were compared to the black, choppy, bracken seas of the Nothik. He followed the boat until it disappeared into the inlet, returning to Haddock's little harbor. His attention was drawn by something moving up the shore - he could see it approaching from between Liv's legs.

He wilted when he confirmed the figure was bipedal. A person. Unless they were a complete rube (which was a keen possibility, now that he was thinking about it) they wouldn't assume a Felyan raiding party would consist of one young elf, but they'd still be suspicious of his intentions. He couldn't use the ring, as he'd be leaving his horse and cargo behind to be picked through, so he'd have to talk another fool down from writing to the authorities about him. He groaned as Liv paced away from where she stood over him, taking more of an interest in a patch of sea grass than hiding him from view.

"Go away," he grumbled, willing them to turn around and walk the other way. "Shoal's drowned. Nothing for you up here. Go away."

Unfortunately, they just continued on up the shore until he could make out their features.

680 . tagged: you reading this! c :<

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[Grimone]

Grimone'Zel | The Black Wizard

Lucalrith

Species - Half Elf

Gender - Male

Age - 630 yrs

---

Prophet of The Dark

---

It had taken weeks of travel to finally get this far north on foot. Shadow travel helped, but with only an hour limit and no mount to carry him he felt utterly exhausted. He remembered the journey it what it took to get here. His detainment by the distrustful Duke of Furiya, the flight across the southern mountains of oathia. The dragon... He really hated that part, then the airship crash.

Only for some random satyr hunter to show up, finally kill the beast and walk off into the wilds without explanation. He waited at the Furiyan soldiers camp for three days before some of their scouts returned from a neighboring village with ten horses and the carts needed to transport the hundred or so guards waiting there. Of course grim had little patience after that.

Seeing they were safe and finally on their way north, he found his moment and shadow travelled to the nearest town. Without money for a mount, he was forced to walk the rest of the way. But seeing the deep blue waters was the best thing to happen to him in a very long time. With staff in hand, his black dragon leather cloak pulled tight and his hood up, he continued walking down the road.

It wasn't long before he saw signs of life. A horse... and a rider sitting by the water. Too far to make out details but clearly humanoid. Without hesitation or considering how it may appear to some random stranger on the road he activated his ring as he caught the eyes of the traveller. Vanishing into the grey, monotone realm of the dead. It still took him a few minutes to get close, but as he approached what he realized was a young dark elf, he smiled in satisfaction.

He decided to walk closer, leaning down towards the dark elfs face to witness in extreme slow motion what appeared to be what grim could only describe as a look of abject horror. He chuckled at his antics being perceived in such a way, until he turned to see the crates. Obviously this kid was either a merchant or a thief, but hell, who was he to judge. He had done terrible things over the centuries just to survive.

He eventually returned his focus to the slow moving, absolutely terrified elf that appeared to be having some kind of panic attack. Grim was sure he hadn't made any threatening gestures or angry shouts or hateful provocations. Such a strange reaction for one so young. Still, it was clear this kid was no threat. He popped back into the mortal plane after nearly ten minutes of watching, or rather ten seconds to the kids perspective.

Stand while leaning heavily on his staff, only a few feet in front of the poor boy, he smiled and with a hand raised in a gesture of good will, lowered his hood. "My boy, you look like you've just seen a ghost? Are you ok? I have an elixir that might calm your nerves if your having trouble breathing. Yes, yes, calm down it's alright, I'm just here to ask if I could borrow your horse for a bit."

[Lucalrith]

this one drops a payload; fodder for the animals

Surely not, Luca thought, as his light-sensitive eyes strained to make out the colors of the figure's garb as they moved wraith-like along the shore. If it appeared to be a man in a shapeless, void-black cloak with the hood drawn, then it was just his poor eyesight and shoddy nerves acting in collusion to ruin his day, filling in the blanks with the worst possible conclusion. He'd had this encounter so many times since Spring, and every time it was just a stranger in bulky layers or a very fearsome, lifelike coatrack.

It's just your head, he reasoned with his stuttering heart. It always is. Why would it go to the trouble of hunting you down a second time, across half a continent and the Eashin? You're not worth that much effort.

He threw reason out the door when that black cloak faded from this world, on his feet in an instant and kicking up sand like a Furiyan dancer.

There was a glass box in Luca's mind palace with a little silver hammer on a tether and a note that read In Case of Liche. The box contained a small high steel dagger he'd sacrificed resources and time to obtain the minute he was freed from the creature who inspired its purchase, a bright and flashing but otherwise ugly, stumpy little thing with a handle he'd carved and wrapped himself. It slipped into his hand from a hidden pocket in a motion so effortless that it became beautiful, for just a moment.

The flowers he'd tooled into the leather left impressions in his palm. It wasn't good form to grip the blade so tightly, but every muscle in his body felt stiff as wrought iron.

He shouldn't have even had this much time to prepare - it could be on him in a breath, so where the fuck was it? Just - just watching him, from beyond Mortus, playing with its food.

Fuck you, he thought, slashing wildly at the air. His lungs couldn't get enough air. His vision was blurred, stinging.

If survival was really off the table, then he wasn't so meek as to lay down and die without a fight. Even rabbits kick when they go. If Fels wanted him dead, there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it, but he was at least going to go down knifing the wretch in the neck. Hopefully a storm would come and take his body to sea before it could crawl back out from whatever cesspit it came from, keep his bones safe beneath the fathoms. It was the best he could do.

"Come on, you rank, undead piece of shit - come out! Doesn't matter which direction you pick, I'll smell you coming. You reek like unwashed aaAAAAH -!"

Despite his bluster, the minute the robed figure reentered Mortus - not even a stone's throw away - Luca's voice rocketed about three octaves higher as he staggered backward. He dropped into stance, one trembling fist pulled back and his arm held horizontal in front of him, a shivering dagger facing out.

Only to drop it as the stranger brought ashen hands up to drop his hood. Luca stared in incomprehension at the dark elven face he was met with - or half elven, rather. Neither the stranger's concern nor request penetrated, at first, lost to the surrealism of the scenario. He knew it wasn't Fels' voice. That's all that mattered.

".....WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?!" He exploded, pacing in a small, aimless circle before jabbing his pointer finger down at the discarded blade at his feet. "Hopping out the Veil two feet from a guy's nose, you trying to get shanked?? Sorry, I -"

He dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, trying to find a polite tone of voice. This was still a mage he didn't know. He couldn't act like this, for all he knew causing offense meant he'd spend the rest of eternity as a barn owl or something. He laughed a little hysterically at the thought - better an owl than a skeleton.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, his voice carefully even and aloof in its politeness despite the tremor in his frame or the redness in the corners of his eyes. "Yelling was uncalled for. You just startled me. You want - you want to borrow my horse, you said?"

710 . tagged: Grimone

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[Grimone]

Grimone'Zel | The Black Wizard

Lucalrith

Species - Half Elf

Gender - Male

Age - 630 yrs

---

Prophet of The Dark

---

The black wizard took a few steps back, staff in hand as he made a somewhat half assed bow and widened his arms in a friendly, welcoming gesture. "My apologies, I meant no harm by it. I just saw you from down the road and hate wasting time." He nodded at the crates and shrugged while gesturing toward the obvious rogue like look of his attire.

"I assume your selling... Vegetables... Interesting line of work, but who am I to judge." He slowly waved a hand toward the horse and looked longingly at Luca as if he wanted to pet her. "May I?" He didn't wait for permission of course and calmly began stroking the creatures neck as it nibbled playfully at his cloak. "Well aren't you a beautiful creature, here have a carrot darling."

Without saying a word he grabbed a carrot from a nearby crate, the obvious rattling of glass viles catching his attention. Giving Luca a sly smile as he glanced over knowingly. Yet he decided it was best not to mention it. The horse promptly ate the carrot and nuzzled his chest in a friendly manner. He had always been quite good at handling animals. They were... simpler then people.

It was then that Grim noticed the faint glint of a ring of the veil on lucas finger. It took him a moment to register the ramifications of this and to recognize the ring for what it was. But he gave no notion of recognizing who made it. "It's rare to see another veil hopper such as myself these days. Quite a rare bit of magic shadow travel. Almost a dying art form one might say."

He finished petting the horse that whinnied for more attention as he turned back to the young dark elf. His eyes revealing a sudden knowing of Lucas situation. He took a deep breath and sighed audibly as he gazed upward toward the sky. "I know this world can break a man so easily. Even when you try your best to do what's right, all that evil out there can make us forget who we are sometimes."

Grim slowly and carefully leaned his staff against the cart and pulled out his dagger, placing it on a stone nearby. Taking his enchanted medallion around his neck and placing it slowly on the cart next to the staff. Before finally taking his ring of the veil. Showing it plainly for the dark elf to see and setting it next to the dagger. "See... I got a ring like yours too." Opening his cloak to reveal he had no other weapons on him. He motioned with his head toward the stony shore Luca was originally sat upon.

His demeanor friendly and posture open to show he wasn't a threat. "Mind if I join you for a minute. I've been walking so long I need a quick break." He smiled at the young elf who seemed to cautious for his own good. As Grim painfully sat upon the ground with a grunt, betraying his age and tired bones. He looked back patiently and smiled again. Expectantly waiting for Luca to sit down with him. "So dear boy, tell me your story."

[Lucalrith]

this one drops a payload; fodder for the animals

For a few beats of their interaction, Luca wasn’t reading between the lines or considering his words, just searching for composure as it settled that he wasn’t going to have his soul cleft from his dying body only to shove it back in like fixings for a roast - at least, not today. He dismissed Grim’s apology with a minute shake of his head, dragging a hand down his face.

He regained self-possession just as the wizard took it upon himself to approach his packhorse without Luca’s assent. ‘May I’ was evidently a rhetorical question to this fellow.

“Yeah, help yourself,” he said, just as rhetorically, as Grimone produced a carrot from beneath the protective tarp of wax cloth, disturbing the merchandise and revealing what they hid in the process. Luca met that knowing look with one of model impassivity, folding his arms loosely over his chest.

Liv took to the wizard more eagerly in the span of a minute than she had to Luca over the course of several days, which was a little grating, but she was a thinking being and had the right to her preferences at the end of the day. He couldn’t ask her to be a better partner in that moment. She kept the stranger occupied long enough for Luca to assess him with a clear head.

It was rare to find them on the surface, much less engaged with other sapients in anything except combat, so he’d never seen a hybridization of his own ken before. It wasn’t important, but it was interesting - he wondered if the darker hair made stealth that much easier, but he supposed a mage didn’t need to worry about that sort of thing. What was important was that his dark cloak could be hiding anything. Armor, weapons. A small, ignited powder keg with a long fuse. A conspicuous lack of skin.

With his thoughts consumed by scrutiny, he didn’t realize he was fidgeting with the ring until the wizard made comment, and that in turn made him realize how badly he’d slipped in his panic earlier - he’d professed knowledge of the veil to this magic-user who could access it. His fidgeting hitched for a moment before he casually resumed, switching to a different ring. He’d been caught. If he stopped what he was doing or hid his hands, it would only draw more attention, revealing that it weighed heavily on him.

Besides obtaining his prison shiv of a dagger, Luca’s first order of business after the incident had been research into the variations of the undead, trying to identify what Fels was, and into shadow travel. Information on one of those topics was readily available to the illiterate, easily obtained from a cleric or resting ichorborne. Hint: it wasn’t shadow travel.

Which meant the practice was confined to a different part of the world or relegated to bygone eras. It was kind of nice to have someone confirm which, and Luca knew he could probably extract more from the mage - everything he knew about traveling through the veil had been learned through trial and error or sadistic liche, and if there was something that could be done about its cranky denizens, he’d love to know. His first time using it as a thief’s tool had been with an older townhouse in Briar, and it had been harrowing.

But a question asked was also an invitation, a double-edged sword. The less people capable of shadow travel, the more likely it was that they all knew each other - he didn’t want his whereabouts making it back to Fels.

With sudden veer into the philosophical (a sentiment Luca wasn’t sure he agreed with or understood the relevancy of, but nodded along agreeably to all the same) the mage began divesting himself of what Luca assumed were enchanted items. To his logic, this was confirmation that all of these objects were as dangerous as the dagger, and he didn’t truly believe the wizard had shed himself of all defenses. That would be foolish.

But he was taking the opportunity to browse, considering what he’d ask for collateral if he did agree to lend Grim his horse. He had material to move and a deadline, after all.

Superficially, Luca sat when Grimone sat, one leg curled beneath him and resting his wrist on his knee, bunching up a copper bangle at an angle that looked uncomfortable. If all his energy remained spring loaded in his legs, ready to fall into momentum at a moment’s notice, that was his business.

“That’s an awful ambiguous request, but I’ll bite,” he said, at length. And proceeded to tell one of his stories, happily evading the soul of the question. A very incriminating one; Grim knew, and Luca knew that Grim knew, so there wasn't any point in mincing words.

“In 592 they built this fishery in my hometown in the Bleaks - shanty town on the water, more disused buildings than not, you know the type. And I don’t mean they bought up some abandoned places on the outskirts for cheap and flipped them, I mean, new new, right in the heart of the slums. Lacquered hardwood. Imported cold lamps. Iceboxes. Up to date on all those safety codes the Imperial Building Commission instated that year. On the same street where old Sammy went to scream at pigeons from twelve to four. I don’t need to say that they were out-competed by better placed and established fisheries, right?”

“So it’s a front, obviously, but dunno know for what. My boss at the time wanted to know. But nobody likes going to Bleaks, so whoever she picks is gonna feel like it’s a punishment.” He nodded to himself, picking idly at a string fraying from his cuff. “I told my friend Gwin that the shopkeep on Hallefaire hid his lockbox at the bottom of a pickle barrel and got him arrested him for trespass, not because anybody saw him breaking and entering the shop, but because he smelled like gherkins for about two weeks after that. So after springing him, Boss sends us to the Bleaks - me for spreading misinformation, Gwin for being stupid.”

“We didn’t even need the letters of recommendation or the fishing poles. They don’t hire elves. They don’t hire humans or dwarves or anything else neither. They just dress a broom up in waders and stuff it with straw, draw a face on a bucket, and magic 'em to life with the most barebones set of instructions. Just there to pass by the windows and make it look occupied. Me and Gwin would sit in there, crying laughing, watching ‘em walk into the same corner over and over again, running into each other at full speed. Picking up a sponge, smashing it against their faces like it was a sandwich. Make their heads spin like this:”

He twirled his finger in a circle like he was spinning a bucket on it, his face somehow entirely deadpan.

“We were still getting paid for this, mind you. So we just started taking turns getting in trouble so we could go back to the fishery and watch strawmen ‘fish’. Eventually Boss caught on to what we were doing and just had Brutus haze the shit out of us. And the year after that the fishery fucking burned down. Never figured out what they were actually doing.”

1250 . tagged: Grimone

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[Grimone]

Grimone'Zel | The Black Wizard

Lucalrith

Species - Half Elf

Gender - Male

Age - 630 yrs

---

Prophet of The Dark

---

Grim sat in silence as he absorbed the young elfs story. Nodding while gazing at the water, one hand clasped over the other. He had a feeling much of that story was bullshit meant to throw him off and confuse him, but he didn't care. It got the kid talking, that is what he truly wanted. To open up and speak without fear.

It didn't matter to grim whatever lies or mistruths or misdirects that came out of the boys mouth. So long as he felt comfortable enough to just sit and talk, that's what truly mattered to the old wizard. He subtly glanced toward the kid and made a genuine smile. His kind demeanor and posture showing that he knew what the kid was doing but didn't care either way.

As he finished his story grim chuckled and picked up a small flat stone by his feet. Tossing it into the water, one, two, three, four skips and splunk! He brushed the dust off his hands before speaking. The calm and serene tone of his voice revealing a secret peace within his heart that most simply couldn't comprehend.

"An interesting story to be sure, but I think I have a tale or two that might peak your interest kiddo." The black wizard looked at the ring on the young elfs finger. Before looking up to lock eyes with the boy, a sudden seriousness and deep sorrow in his eyes.

"A long time ago, I was traveling alone in the felands. There was an old ruin that had recently been discovered by the felandiers guild you see. Untouched for thousands of years. I decided to get there and search for clues on a perticular lost bit of magic before the guild could get their hands on the information."

"I was alone in the dark with not but my own wit and power to defend me. But about six hours into my descent, I started hearing voices. Now any normal person would start running at that point, but my curiosity got me hooked. I slowly made way through an uncharted side tunnel that had only recently opened up."

"I expected a monster... I suppose in the end I was right to think that. But when I turned the corner and saw a fifteen year old human boy with chains around his feet charging toward me, I froze. Before I knew it the staff in my hand was gone, the kid snatched it from me."

"I had to of spent three days tracking down that poor boy, down dark tunnels, crooked ravines and caverns faintly illuminated by glowing mushrooms. When I finally cornered him. He began to cry, real actual tears. Throwing the staff at my feet he fell to his knees and begged me not to kill him."

"He's just a kid I thought to myself. Of course I wasn't going to kill him, I'm not above defending myself if attacked, but to take the life of a child? I could never do that..." Grim paused, the memory of his first meeting with Ethuar rushing back to him all at once. A single tear dripped to the ground as he brushed his eyes with the edge of his cloak.

"He had a natural talent for illusion magic, that's how he managed to grab the staff from me without me noticing. I took the boys hand and we just sat and talked for a while. He told me his story, escaped slave, terrible thing for a young kid to go through. In the end I took him to the surface and he emerged into the sunlight as my apprentice."

The wizards brow furrowed and his face contorted into one of pure regret. A painful gaze that showed deep remorse over his actions. "I had no idea about the monster he would later become... for that, I am truly sorry. But tell me young man, did I do the right thing?"

[Lucalrith]

this one drops a payload; fodder for the animals

Luca had talked a lot of rot about nothing and the wizard accepted all of it with an affable passivity the younger Felyan had to admire. Halfway through his story, he began to feel that they were holding a second conversation in body language alone; I’d appreciate it if you not interrogate me, said Luca in his skirting glances as he described tricking his friend into taking a pickle barrel bath. That’s fine, his guest seemed to say, casually meeting his gaze, a flash of a warm smile before eye contact between them was politely averted. I’m not vested enough to press you for answers.

It was Grimone’s disinterest and the archaic familiarity of silent communication he found sedative, more than anything. Body language was not as easy to disguise convincingly as words and intentions. The tension in his frame relaxed by fractions. When Grim skipped a stone over the calm waters, Luca quit monitoring him long enough to watch it hop over the surf.

When his attention snapped back onto Grim, he found the wizard studying his hand, and it didn’t take long to piece together that he was considering the band around his thumb. The wizard’s expression had sobered, catching Luca’s gaze with one heavy with gravity and holding it. Luca realized he might be getting new information concerning the item without having to ask for it. Somehow, that thought filled him with dread.

The story began in the Felands. This was immediately of interest; Luca had holed up in plenty of caves in the past, but had never journeyed so deep to his knowledge and burned with curiosity about the world he was made to be in, no bright skies to blind or open spaces to disorient. Just finite walls on all sides, amplifying every minute sound like the toll of a church bell.

He listened with rapt attention, his face still but watching Grim from the corners of wide eyes, trying to put together what any of this had to do with the ring. Halfway through the story, the curiosity opening his expression shuttered, chased by the entrance of a teenage runaway.

It was the bleeding heart spiel. Barf.

He supposed this story about a thief who received this stranger’s compassion was meant to engender trust, but Luca wasn't so out of touch with reality to equate the terror and desperation of an escaped slave to the vigilance and predation of those who participate in organized crime - starving dogs and lurking wolves both bite. Luca knew which beast he was.

Still, despite how hokey and irrelevant he found Grim’s story, he remained courteously placid. It clearly meant something to the wizard. And Luca didn’t enjoy watching older people cry - Grim didn’t possess the frailty he expected in elders, but Luca could read age in his stiff motions and weathered self-assurance, and it felt voyeuristic to which wounds still bothered him.

He just failed to see why the ring brought this story to mind.

Until the last line.

Luca’s analytical mind shifting into full gear was a tangible thing. Grim might’ve been able to hear him thinking as he contextualized the entire story and the past few months of his life with the awful revelation that Fels had, in fact, been a man a very long time ago.

A man he might have been friends with, had circumstances been any different. It wasn’t an uncommon story among their type; Luca had known a woman in the Gallowers who’d been sold into a pleasure house as a girl, a backstory he’d asked for before he learned not to ask criminals anything about their lives before crime. Their ‘stories,’ as Grim had asked for, were never happy - hence, gallows humor.

Did that mean that someone he knew would follow that path, or something to its tune - abandon all the pleasures of living to become something ungodly in the relentless pursuit of wealth or acclaim or power? When there’s something fundamentally broken about a person, did that mean that given ample time, their nature was always to become something more corrupt than what they are? From starving dog to lurking wolf to whatever was worse?

Every time he thought he’d examined the encounter in the Kingswood from every possible angle, run out of naivety to disturb with what he’d learned from it, he discovered there was another layer to peel back and the capacity to be shaken by it. He felt ill.

“Look I - I don’t have a stake in this. I don’t know what happened between you two, and I’m not an ethicist. I’m not even an ethical person. So if it’s absolution you’re after, you’re looking in the wrong places.” Luca had been scowling in stress at the pebbles beneath his feet, but risked a glance at Grimone, warring with himself; would it make things better or worse, if he offered the wizard news about his apprentice? Or what remained of him. “...But I think beating the shit out of yourself for someone else’s decisions is pointless and stupid. You just spared his life. Whatever he chose to do with it afterward is on him. Anyways. People aren’t…obligated to each other.”

880 . tagged: Grimone

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[Grimone]

Grimone'Zel | The Black Wizard

Lucalrith

Species - Half Elf

Gender - Male

Age - 630 yrs

---

Prophet of The Dark

---

The black wizard simply nodded at the young dark elf as if absorbing his words into himself. The kids words were true, he wasn't responsible for other people's decisions. Yet he couldn't escape that nagging feeling of regret gnawing at the back of his mind.

He breathed deep, the cool summer breeze and the salty sea air filling him with strength again. "I suppose you're right kid, but regardless I felt you should know the story at the very least." He grabbed another flat stone and tossed it across the water.

Glancing back toward the dark elf he chuckled. "You know that ring of yours was made by my hands. I don't know exactly how you got it from that... thing... who was once my apprentice. But I'm sure you'll put it to better use then he ever could."

He fumbled through his cloak, pulling out three small viles of a transparent, but sparkling liquid. "I meant what I said before, you should really take one. I made this medicine myself, should take the edge off that anxiety of yours. It's no cure, but if you ever need a clear head, this stuff will give you some clarity of mind. At least for a few hours."

Grim lifted a hand to shake the boys in a friendly gesture. "I won't delve into what happened between you and that creature, just know you have an ally if he ever shows his face again. Despite my age, I'm quite useful in a scuffle... So if the bastard bothers you again, just break this and I'll be there."

It wasn't the first time he had created such a valuable trinket, but very few enchanters knew how to make one. He pulled out what appeared to be a simple white pearl. Glistening with some ethereal glow and marked with celestial runes so small, they were barely legible.

"Consider it a last resort, if all seems lost, if that creature finds you again and you cant find an escape. Just shatter the pearl and I'll be summoned to your side." As he dropped the pearl into the boys hand he waved a finger in warning. "I swear to oshune, if you sell this thing I'm gonna be pissed. It's a lifeline for emergencies, not a toy. Understand?"