A Dark Visitor

A Dark Visitor
Date of Scene:	21 May 2013
Location:	Fluorgis - Watchtower
Synopsis:	Seith drops in to give Percival a 'friendly' reminder, but ends up encountering a young sorceress instead.
Cast of Characters:	Zia, Seith

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Zia has posed:
It would take a bit of digging to find out just where a certain gargoyle might be living now. One might expect such creatures to have returned to their homeland, but instead, a pair of them seem to have set up residence in Fluorgis. Not many people even know that someone lives in the old watchtower, but it wouldn't be hard for someone who has 'sources' to be able to figure it out.

From the entryway, it doesn't really look like the sort of place someone might live. In fact, it seems more likely the sort of place that might have ghosts and ghouls rather than gargoyles. Never-the-less, a bit of smoke rises out of an exaust a few floors up, and the hint of light from one window suggests that perhaps someone is at home.

There isn't too much point in knocking, since the door hangs uncertainly upon rusted hinges. The inner room beyond looks as if it had once served as a meeting place, but a wooden table lies in two pieces, and what might have been tapestries of the military now lie in moldering tatters. The layer of dust suggests that few people really come and go here. Not even the worst of the squatters would want to seek refuge in the tower. However, there are footsteps from above.

The only problem? There's no way to get up there. Not easily anyways. The stairs that must have once made their way up the side of the building are crumbled into little more than dust. Yet, there is sign of a ladder that can just be seen from the dark hallway above. Alas, attempts to use any sort of magic either to bewitch the ladder, or to levitate up to the entryway proove useless. Warding spells protect this place from outside influences. It's old magic, but quite powerful in it's own right.

Seith has posed:
There where the blade goes, there Seith knows to go. It's been a while since Seith 'handed off' that blade to the one known as Percival, using it as his beacon on that day. And just as such, he's followed the blade to this place. It may not rest here right now, but its residual energies are here. In a tower. The man stands at the bottom, looking up at the tall structure. He wonders for a moment - if Percival has a link to the Shard Seekers. He can't have that blade get too close to his little 'experiment'. Who knows, Reize might try to take over the burden. Seith can't have that.

The man wanders along the tower, trying to find a way up. Being a master of Gravity - normally he might fly this. But that might draw attention. Finding nothing on the outside - luckily he does find a door that leads in.

The man finds the mostly crumbled stairs and considers making his way up along that ledge... but decides against it. He's wearing his heavy armor - such a thing will not go well. Going a little further around the inside arc of the tower, the man finally decides to try and levitate now that he's on the inside... when... nothing happens. His eyes go wide for a moment. Did he lose his seed of magic? He lays a hand to his chest. No, his magic is still there. There's nothing wrong with him. He tries to reach out with his fingers, touching the web of magic there. It feels... this isn't magic at all. This...

"Sorcery. It's strong." Seith whispers to himself, and then looks up at the tower once more. this had just gotten more interesting. A /lot/ more interesting. Does that Gargoyle have a sorcerer as a friend? The man continues around the tower a little more, laying his hand to his chin, pondering to himself. It's completely by chance that a little later - he notices that dark little hallway with the ladder.

Being that high up - that's not going to help him. And he doesn't carry a hookshot to bring down that ladder either. Being in an area like this - without access to his finer magics, Seith is starting to feel a little uncomfortable. He could use his Scythe perhaps to reach the ladder and drag it down. But he is just as likely to cut the thing to pieces. So instead, he calls out; "Is the Keeper of the Blade home?" He calls out, his voice ringing through the whole of the tower.

Zia has posed:
The sounds of footsteps from above stops abruptly, as if someone had heard the call from below. Then, they return again with the clicking of gargoyle talons and the swish of a tail that brushes against the floorboards. A moment later, the sound shifts to the stone stairs as someone makes their way downward from the rooms above.

It would be clear from the first sign of her feet that this is not Percival. In fact, while Zia is clearly of his kind, she has some very obvious differences from the more angular male. The female gargoyle is dressed in a set of blue mages robes which have been pulled over a set of white pajamas. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting company. The white gargoyle looks over the rim of a set of glasses, peering into the darkness below.

"If yer meanin' the young knight, Ah'm afraid tha he's out at the moment." The sweet sounds of a Scottish brogue come through clearly from the woman, framed slightly by the light coming from upstairs. "Ah can take a message, if ye'd like. Let 'im know ye've been by te call on 'im." Not offering an invitation to enter might seem rude to some, but clearly this female knows the protective magics about this place. Like with most magics of this sort, inviting someone within it removes much of the effect.

Seith has posed:
Sound. That would certainly suggest someone is here. In the dark of the tower, it is a little difficult to see at first - but with enough gazing and getting his eyes used to the dark, he makes out the talons of a Gargoyle. He also is quick on the uptake that these are not Percival's feet. When down comes the blue mage robes along with everything, Seith connects ome dots. The glasses are ignored. Plenty of established wizards, witches and sorcerers with glasses after all!

"I wish to see how he fares with The Blade." Seith answers the strangely accented female above. "But I do not believe he knows how to contact me." This isn't a lie, and Seith isn't exactly trying to pretend he's anything other than what he is. "After all, it is a precious possession of mine he Keeps."

Zia has posed:
"Ye mean the cursed blade?" While Percival might not have directly told Zia about the sword, she had some sense of what sort of dark power might be held within it. The fact that she'd seen him use it rather than her ancestral sword had concerned her for a time. Yet, as much as she might think of him as a brother, she isn't his keeper. Raising her shoulders in a half-shrug, the female gargoyle watches him, her tail twitching beside her ankles. "Ah wouldnae know. He doesnae talk te me aboot it."

She leans against the wall, seeming at ease with the protective magics that keep her safely above while he remains below. "Ye'll havete excuse me if Ah dinnae invite ye in wi' open arms. This is m'home, ye see. 'N Ah'm nae too fond of havin those kinda artifacts around." Like most gargoyles, Zia has become more and more protective of the place she calls home. It's probably the first time she's really lived with anyone else since she was a child.

"If ye wish te leave yer number, ye can write it 'n leave it down there. Ah have'nae issue wi' passin it along te 'im when he comes back." Arms folded, the gargoyle taps her talons on her arm, "If tha's all ye need, Ah've got some things te get back te." Which probably includes a dungeon raid with her guild, or doing something of equal geekery.

Seith has posed:
"Correct." Seith answers Zia. "The cursed blade he carries is of great importance to me. You wouldn't happen to know where he's gone off to, would you?" The man asks, before walking further out opposite to where Zia stands, so he comes into a fuller view. But also, so he might touch against the wall opposite to Zia's. "No, I can tell. Tell me - white gargoyle - since we've not been acquainted yet." He pauses for a moment, looking towards the wall, touching over it with his fingers - plucking at the magics.

"This sorcery, is this yours?" Not magic - as others might call it. But /sorcery/. "I wasn't aware there was a sorceress in Fluorgis." He then turs his gaze back up at her, in that curious manner dangerous men like him might more commonly look at her. Not with fear though, or intent to harm. But a dangerous curiousity all-the-same. He seems to have forgone commenting about what his phone-number might be. Zia now has his interest.

Zia has posed:
"Afraid Ah dinnae know." Zia replies again with another slight lift of her shoulders. "Ah'm nae the lad's keeper last Ah checked. He's likely off gettin' 'imself inte trouble, or gettin the tar beaten out of 'im. Seems the usual for the men I know." Her tail flicks at her side, fliping a stone back and forth behind her almost absentmindedly. She's still not entirely sure what's going on with most of them. There's this sword nonsense with Percival, and that collar that Skoll has.

That had been a mess in and of itself. The poor wolf had gotten quite confused when she'd asked for help to move in with Percival. Luckily, she'd sorted that out. Gargoyles have a tendency to crave similar spaces, and the companionship of other gargoyles. Convincing the wolf of that, was probably easier than it should have been. Then again, she'd never lied to him, and alas for poor Percival, as much as everyone seems to think that he's moving in on their 'territory' when it comes to Zia, she hasn't even the smallest interest in him in that way.

Now that we've covered that backstory, though, Zia tilts her head, watching as he probes at the magical defenses of the watchtower. "Aye." She answers his question directly. "Though Ah wouldnae consider m'self a sorceress. Ah've a long way te go before Ah would consider myself tha. Gargoyles do tend te be particularly good at protective enchantments, though, or so Ah've been told."

She knows the look that he's giving her, all too clearly. It resembles the expression that Valen used to use whenever she mastered some particularly difficult bit of magic. Once, she might have been frightened of that sort of look, but not so much anymore. A matter of a few months has changed her quite a lot, and it's only now that she's starting to understand the true measure of her strength. "Ah'm sure ye'd understand why creatures like m'self and the good knight would need such protections. There are plenty'a dark folks out there with ill intentions."

Seith has posed:
"Indeed." The man turns fully towards Zia, continueing to gaze up at her. "The spell feels very pure. A few dents here and there, but nothing I could dispel without some great preperations." He admits - and in a ways, hates to admit. He's honestly impressed by the web spun by Zia's sorcery. The man crosses his arms "You are right. There are many a bad thing out there that might wish to devour creatures such as you - or would fail to understand your species. From what I understand, you come from the world of Manhattan - correct?"

How strange it must sound at times, to hear someone refer to Manhattan as a 'world' rather than just what it had been. A stand-alone city. Or rather, a large /part/ of a city. "Still, I harbor no such ill intentions on this day. Mere curiousity." Seith points out. "So he doesn't talk to you of the cursed blade - yet you know it for what it is? Tell me, do you wish to know what curse it bares, so you might use some of that protective instinct of yours to assist your friend?"

Zia has posed:
"Hmm." Zia murmurs to herself, considering her own spell. Much of her talent with magic isn't in raw sorcery. It was something that Valen always struggled in teaching her. She'd caught on to it eventually, but her true gift had always been with the elements. If there were faults in it, she doesn't have senses fine enough to catch them. "Ah work wi' it as best Ah can. It wasnae magic tha Ah was taught, so Ah've had te figure it out on m'own."

The girl lets out a breath and slumps herself down against the wall. For a gargoyle to seem tired at anight is unusual, but she lets one leg dangle, resting on her perch. "Aye, although Ah'm originally from Sco'land. Manhattan's jus one city among thousands. Couldnae tell ye why it was the only one te make it after the fall." Oh, she has her theories, mostly built around the world-heart. Even now, it likely still lies somewhere within the city, while the rest of her world remains in darkness. "Nae exactly a place where m'kind are welcomed wi' open arms, but Ah think we're used te tha, by now."

The fact that this armored man goes on to offer her some help in regards to Percival's cursed blade only causes her to raise one eyebrow. "Ye gave 'im a cursed weapon, 'n ye think it would make sense fer me te take advice from ye on how te help 'im?" Her head cocks, but she seems to be genuinely questioning such a thought. It's the sort of thing that just seems like a trap waiting to happen. She doesn't answer as to how she knows the weapon for what it is. As much as she might be pale skinned, and once have been mistaken for a Princess of Heart, Zia has some seed of that darkness within.

"Ye'd be be'ta off tellin him yerself. He's as pig-headed as any of the other men Ah know. Try te tell'm somethin 'n all they manage te do is get themselves inte more trouble."

Seith has posed:
"You work with it well, gargess." Seith points out. "I could teach you more..." He then adds, "But I don't think you'd take an offer from a man such as me - drenched in the path of darkness." The man makes a little handmotion, dismissing the thought. He does listen to her tale - learning of worlds 'as they once were' is always interesting. He too has theories on those worlds that only partially fall. The World Heart... such a strong entity indeed.

"It would explain your stay here, in this World. Here, where beings like you aren't... shunned." Shunned seems like a good word for it. "But in regards to the blade, I didn't give it to him. He took it." The man shakes his head a little. "As for why he'd listen, I figure - you are a friend. Where-as I am considered... something far less than that." At least he's making sense in some ways or another.

Zia has posed:
"Thankye." Zia replies, toying with a small pendant at her throat. It appears to be a small vile with a pair of bones within it. The little white slivers make a clinking sound against the glass. "But ye are probably right. Ah've had m'fair share of dealin wi' sorcerers who think they can use me. Ye'll have te excuse me if Ah'm nae leapin at the chance te put m'self under the power of someone who's already toyin in the life of someone who's like a brother te me."

Though her words might seem angry, the girl seems calm enough, her tail swishing at a regular pace. Perhaps, by now, she used to dealing with people on different sides of the war. She's seen people who have claimed themselves on the side of the Shadow Lords prove themselves as capable allies, but that doesn't mean that she trusts anyone inately. Still, with this armored Elf choosing not to make himself a threat, she seems comfortable enough with simply talking.

"Why would ye want te help 'im in the first place if yer the one involved in gettin' 'im bound to the bloody thing? Seems te me, ye'd be more likely usin' me as a trap te further yer own plans." It's not so much a judgement, as the girl actually trying to figure out what he's plotting.

Seith has posed:
A vail with bones in it? It's perhaps for the better that Seith is such a distance away from her, and as such can't see what is within; for he might have been foolish enough to believe her a witch of sorts. "Wise decision." Seith answers her. "Though it is not I who toys with someone's life. That would be the Blade."

The man is made further curious by the 'calm' sound to the girl's voice. Curious. She must trust her compatriot's abilities to see this ordeal through. "I would like to point out however - I gave that blade to its former owner. Your friend was the one to take it from his corpse - from what I understand. As for trapping him? I can think of far better ways to do that if I truly wished to do so. Going through a middleman is always such trouble if you want to get a trap to shut on someone. Besides, that's not my style."

Seith makes a little hand-flourish as he claims the latter part.

Zia has posed:
It wouldn't be a far stretch to consider Zia a witch. Her weather abilities combined with spells she learned from Valen make her a formidible mage, but her natural gift with magic is something else entirely. What she practices is older magic, though. Nothing like modern incantations or the spells from those worlds which have only just been connected together. Her magic comes from nature, the core elements, without draining from it like some might seek to do elsewhere.

"Ye really think Percival is the sort te go tomb robbing?" Zia asks with a smirk, "Ye dinnae know the lad like Ah do, then." She shakes her head slightly, tail flicking once. "The sword was somethin' he picked up in an old underground lair off'a Port Royal. It isnae like he did anythin wrong te deserve the punishment yer deelin out upon 'im." Her blue eyes look a bit more intently at the Elven man.

"So if the sword was yer trap in the first place, why don ye just remove the curse? Seems a bit cold-hearted te me te be attackin someone who was ne'er meant te be the target in the first place." It's not that she's particularly calm about what is happening to Percival, or if the sowrd has anything to do with it. It's mostly that she's cautious enough not to go shouting or threatening someone who may just have answers. Whatever his reasons, she's at least willing to listen, rather than jumping to violence instead.

"So, wha is it ye'd have me tell 'im?"

Seith has posed:
"Hardly a trap. Just something I left... laying around. I wasn't even the one to curse it - just the one to give it to someone who 'needed' it." The man explains. "But you are right on one thing. I do not know him. But then, that is the point to me offering my knowledge to you, now isn't it?" Seith answers Zia patiently. "But I do know where he picked it up. I met him shortly there-after."

The man pauses for a moment, then shakes his head. "The curse is not mine to break. I am not that reasonable I am afraid. I rather see people struggle and find their own strength in overcoming hardships."

"Anyhow, what I want to tell him - is a reminder. If he wishes to dispel the curse, use it more - and use it for just reasons." The man steps aside and makes a little motion, summoning a tiny little Shadow heartless from the ground... which strains for a moment, before it suddenly explodes into bubbles of HP. Seems it didn't like that protection spell much.

"Well... that was interesting..." Seith mutters, before looking back up to the girl. "Those things are a prime target, though he probably wants 'bigger' ones."

Zia has posed:
The white gargoyle takes off her glasses then, tucking them into a pocket somewhere within those robes she's wearing. As a night hunter, she can see perfectly well here. They were likely just for reading or times she had to deal with the light. "There's somethin Ah learned a long time ago aboot cursed things. Ye toy wi' them too much 'n yer likely te find yerself meetin the same fate. Somethin te keep in mind, lad." Though she doesn't know the particular history of this blade, or much about the man speaking to her, she knows enough about dark magic to know that warning does tend to hold true.

"Ah think the good knight is already strugglin wi' enough wi'out ye adding more to it. Then again, as ye've said, yer nae a reasonable man, so Ah suppose there's no real sense in tryin te appeal to yer better nature." It's not as if she hasn't seen people with dark spirits turn around to be someone worthwhile. In fact, she's got one such individual tugging at her heartstrings lately and that's confusing enough. Still, the way this man speaks makes her feel as if he isn't really that sort.

Watching him summon up a heartless does seem to affirm her thoughts on just how powerfully steped this man is in darkness. She does seem surprised by the strength of her own spell, though, lifting her eyebrows. "The ward protects against darkness, 'n against ill intentions. Heartless tend te be pretty single-minded. If ye tried to enter wi'out usin yer dark magic, ye might probably make it through easily enough. So long as ye weren't intendin te hurt anyone inside."

Seith has posed:
"I will keep that in mind, white gargoyle." Seith answers the woman. "Though I am aware of the dangers of cursed and forbidden things." Far more aware than she might realize - but then, she doesn't know him. One of those forbidden things is the reason that his complexion now carries those aged signs. The reason that his hair carries those hints of old silver - and something that had not even been fully succesful.

The man looks to the ground once more, toe-ing one of the green bubbles, before looking back up. "Heartless most certainly carry ill intent." He admits. "As for my magic, I am afraid using magic of any other kind would be impossible. My magic carries only darkness. So I guess that means you have little to worry about in regards to me forcing entry through any non-physical means. Either way, you have my message - sorceress. I shan't trespass upon your home any further for now."

Zia has posed:
It's strange to be refered to as 'white gargoyle' after so long dealing with humans who insist on asking her name. It strikes an odd sort of feeling in her, perhaps reminding her a bit too much of bygone times. "Aye, Ah'd imagine ye would be. Still, there's some curses Ah wouldnae wish on anyone." Though he might be an enemy, and she's not entirely certain of that, there are many fates she wouldn't want to see befall him. Little does she know that some of the worst things one could imagine, already have happened to the Elf.

"Ah'll pass yer message along te the young knight." The gargoyle quirks a sort of rueful smile then, watching him toe at the little baubles that the Heartless left behind. "Ye could always try nae forcin yer way in. It does tend te work better for those who live in a place, ye know?" That said, Zia places a taloned hand one one step, pushing herself up. As she stands, there's a small glow visible briefly beneath her shirt, as if something had shifted as she stood.

"'N be careful if yer nae goin te portal out. This is the sorta neighborhood where folks might just try te attack someone like ye if yer wanderin aboot." That warning given, Zia starts back up the stairs, though the twitch at the end of her tail is a subtle sign that her calm demeanor may only be skin deep.