Two for one Unsounded special!

[righthandmage]

ELKA!
-1-

[Talking about random crap over drinks.]

So what about you? I saw you eyeing that little blond number over there in the corner. Personally I like someone with a bit more meat on their bones, but everyone's got their own weird desires am I right?

You should totally go over there. Say hi. Worst you'll get is beer in your hair. Best you'll get is a little hmm hmm hmm hey hey.

Eh? Eh?

-2-

[Just as you were trying to escape (From getting arrested, or paying your share of the bill, or whatever other situation you might not want to deal with), Elka shouted something in the First Tongue that switched the solidity of an iron stove with the flexibility of your pants. All of the sudden, your trousers are stiff as metal, while the stove collapses into a limp heap.]

You're not going anywhere! We've still got things to discuss.

DUANE!
-1-

[Duane Adelier: Well known scribe and spellwright. Whether you need a document transcribed in a language you don't know, or an item enchanted, rumor has it he is very skilled. However, for some reason, he doesn't have much repeat business. People who talk about him always look slightly uneasy, though they can't exactly explain why. But fuck it. You're not gonna let some nervous rumors stop you from going to see him.

His shop is decorated in a green and gold theme, and the man himself greets you warmly enough when you enter. But there IS something slightly...OFF, about his face, and it certainly is odd that he wears a hood even indoors on a cloudy day.]

Welcome. What can I do for you?

-2-

[Your recent exploits with Duane have left you both stained with more than a little bit of human blood. Duane is staring at his befouled gloves, his face a sickening mix of disgust and hunger.]

God damn you. But for you we never would have been in such a compromising situation in the first place. I'm going to have to throw out all of these clothes. The smell never truly leaves them.

[Is this accusation fair? Possibly. Possibly not. Either way, Duane isn't at his most rational right now.

Comments

Duane, 1

[lichtenberg]

[Hell(a? Hel?) no, Thor does what he wants, fuck the haters. So he's going to stride in and holy fuck what's wrong with his face. There's something offish about it. But w/e, w/e.]

I'm told that you are an...enchanter. Of some repute. [This is said in the same way that someone who thinks that their CD drive is a built in cup holder would greet IT.]

[metaphorical_snakes]

I am a spellwright, yes. I like to think I am a skilled one, but I doubt my repute is particularly flattering.

[lichtenberg]

Come, what reputation does not have a few interesting spots to them? And it is a man of your skills that I need. Can you only enchant or is it possible for you to...[Uuuuhhhhh what's the word-...shit he's not a total fucking moron, this shit's just not something he studied.] ...do the opposite as well?

[metaphorical_snakes]

Disenchant?

Yes, I can do that.

[lichtenberg]

And can you trace the origin of an enchantment or whatever else it is that you magic folk do with such spells? My brother, he left me a...a thing. A thing which I am not sure what to do with.

[metaphorical_snakes]

That would be more difficult, but again within the realm of possibility.

duane 1

[grimly]

Oh, hullo!

[ casual glance around the room. interesting, very interesting. ]

You're just the bloke I was looking for. [ conspiratorially ] Have you got anything that would turn trousers into mice? Someone else's trousers, that is. I'd like to keep my own trousers just the way they are, nicely round my legs and everything.

[metaphorical_snakes]

Pants...into mice.

I suppose that would be...theoretically within the realm of possibility. It would be extraordinarily complicated, though.

[grimly]

Well, all you've got to do is transfigure the essences of clothes into the essence of mouse. It doesn't have to be live mice, so you haven't got to add the essence of living into the mix, which is the hard part, really.

[metaphorical_snakes]

Do you mind if I ask why you want to transmute someone's trousers into mice?

[grimly]

Erm. Because he's a greasy wanker? [ you mean that isn't a reasonable thing to ask for? ]

[metaphorical_snakes]

You want me to push the boundaries of spell composing for a practical joke on someone you don't like.

[grimly]

Yep.

[metaphorical_snakes]

[Deep sigh. He didn't even technically need to breathe these days, but sometimes you need to sigh regardless of your physiological needs.]

Well. I suppose the results will be worth recording regardless of the worthiness of the cause.

[grimly]

Brilliant. I'm glad your morality is suppressed by your natural curiosity! [ dazzling grin ] How does it work? Potion? Ancient amulet? Enchanted cupcake? Can you have it ready in a fortnight?

[metaphorical_snakes]

It will be a matter of learning all the aspects of a mouse that need to be transferred to your poor victim's trousers.

And of catching a mouse, but that should not be terribly difficult. Simplicity itself next to the former task.

Duane, 2

[aria_ardeinae]

[ Reyson has managed the impressive feat of looking even more disgusted than Duane, albeit closer to fainting and certainly not hungry at all. He won't be mourning any of these beorc, but being that sensitive to life force and being in the middle of a bloodbath is... not pleasant, at all. On the plus side, he's now more mad than anything else. Thanks, Duane. ]

Don't expect me to apologize for being assaulted.

[ Anger isn't productive, but it's easy, and it's better than collapsing on the spot or thinking about exactly what Duane did just now. Can beorc even go feral? ]

[metaphorical_snakes]

[Duane slammed Reyson into a wall. He's far stronger than he looks.]

Why were they after you!? What have you pulled me into!?

[aria_ardeinae]

[ Conversely, Reyson is much weaker and lighter than he looks, which isn't all that strong to begin with. It's the hollow bones. And the wings concealed under his robes. Fortunately (?) he's passed the anger threshold where he actively does not give a damn about how much pain he's in. Struggling does not help one bit on the pain front, but the not giving a damn about it is becoming a theme right now. ]

Get your filthy human hands off of me!

[ Human is one of those words that's evolved into an outright racial slur among the laguz tribes. Reyson doesn't give a damn about that either. He's outright snarling. ]

[metaphorical_snakes]

You do not enjoy being unable to control your situation, is it?

[This close, the magical nature of Duane's face is clear. It's clearly an illusion of some sort, covering whatever his real face is. There is also a smell of decay and rotting meat.]

I cannot help you if I do not know what your situation is! I cannot take control of the situation or avoid these attackers if I DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY WANT!

[aria_ardeinae]

[ He really doesn't. As revolting as that reek is, it's kind of reassuring to know that Duane is... clearly some sort of cursed freak of nature under that guise and thus probably not inclined to sympathize with Begnion. Even if the reassurance is mostly canceled out by his instincts screaming out "corpse, corpse, corpse". ]

If you wished to know that, perhaps you should not have torn every last one of them limb from limb!

[ If that's an exaggeration, it probably is not much of one. ]

They wanted me either in their hands or dead, and I'm as much in the dark as you as to which!

[metaphorical_snakes]

They took me by surprise. I concede I may have reacted with more force than was strictly necessary.

[He DID rip that one guy's arm off.]

But that's exactly what I'm talking about! I need control if I am to control my own instincts! Now:

If you do not know who wanted you, then who might benefit from your death or capture?

[aria_ardeinae]

[ Reyson lives with the hawk tribe and is not particularly judgmental about that sort of thing, which is fortunate because he has enough to be judgmental about as it is. ]

Crimean rebels, the Begnion Senate, any slave trader or bounty hunter cunning enough to recognize me for who or what I am... The list is not short, unlike my temper, and I have already asked you to release me once! I will not ask a second time.

[metaphorical_snakes]

[Several seconds of tense silence followed, as Duane glared at Reyson, before abruptly and violently disengaging, growling under his breath.]

Ssael stay my hand...though you have probably forsaken me.