In Search of Rolls

Flashes of a haunted, terrifying trip through the Ethereal Plane in the blasted wasteland of undead may linger behind closed eyes, the afterimage of nightmarish images imprinted by the sheer presence of the monstrosity responsible. But still...

Life moves on.

The docks of Alexandria City bustle as always, as people go about their every-day lives as the shadowy creep of war draws ever closer. Merchants try to hawk their wares, people haggle over prices, and, indeed, life moves on.

Skyler Skywalker, by dint of either strength of will or just a gross lack of understanding of the subtleties of what he spied on that fateful trip, doesn't seem the worse for wear as he strikes along the docks, whistling under his breath... Until someone gets close enough to see the bruised shadows under his pale eyes, the way his smile seems almost forced in it's brainless cheerfulness, or how his shoulders seem to be squared up against the weight of more than his mithril shirt and leather greatcoat.

He appears unarmed, ducking out of a small storefront with a series of mystical symbols on the front. In his arms is a long package wrapped in brown paper and jute string, a small bow on the top of it. He glances around, smile faltering slightly as he stares at a merchant closing shop and putting a sign out indicating he's closing permanently due to the upcoming conflicts. He shakes his head and mutters, "Where am I gunna find garlic rolls now?"

I Roved Out, in Search of Home.

Carver spends more time with her thoughts than people. Just the nature of her work, and over time, the nature of who she happens to be. She has had a lot of time to think and ponder over those nightmarish visions; of stomping feet and great wings aloft. Terrifying to put name to a potential doom. She slept through the night. Same with the next. She moved on and considered Alexandria. She could leave.

But, she Roved Out in Search of Home. Found it. Sigh. She walks the streets with thoughts far away. To a small little restaurant that served snacks she was fond of. She, too, watches as the door is locked. Perhaps for the last time. At Skyler's crestfallen inquiry, she puts a hand on a shoulder. "There's always a new place."

It is a very interesting dichotomy... The thoughtful wild woman and the thoughtless rake, two extremes in thought and carriage. It's probably why they seem to get along so well... They give each other balance, while both having a certain recklessness in battle that meshes well.

Skyler, for all his reputed sharpness of eye, jumps when Carver's hand lands on his shoulder and he lets out an utterly undignified squeak as he turns with eyes wide as he stares at her for a few moments. Jumpy much?

"Oh... OH!" He rubs the back of his neck, offering a rueful grin, "I know. But it was the first place I ate when I came to Alexandria City, y'know? Sentimental, but I always came here for the garlic rolls before I went out on an gig." He frowns, lips thinning into a line before adding, quietly, "How's Eztli doing?" He shakes his head, "Stupid question. Nevermind. Reset." Beat. "So I've been thinking about that bitch in the golem-fucker mansion. If you'll have me, I want to help take her down."

"She was working with Neva, I have not seen her since we got back." Carver admits. "Oh, Neva is a red dragon. She was... it does not matter." It's a lot of words about an individual that doesn't really add up to much. "She's a red dragon, though with Heth coming through, I suspect she will choose to return to her hoard. She does not strike me as the 'die for everyone' sort." Those that long-lived usually are not.

She nods in understanding at the sentimentality. It feels like a closing of a book. It is just a little food mart but it is just one of many. Closed. For fear of what is to come.

"Of course you shoul' be there." Carver says, only mildly surprised by the change of topic. She also understands. This is something that feels like they have control over. Not closing shops or doom. "I have to admit. That whole manor? One of my strangest jobs here. That it seems like it will end with a duel feels bizarre."

"Wise people don't stick around when *that* is coming for us." Skyler rolls his shoulders, not saying anything more but leaving the implication that he's not one of the wise ones out in the air. One of his greatest fears is living a long time, after all.

He wrinkles his nose, and gives Carver a mildly grateful look at her acceptance of the subject change. And a quick grin at her acceptance of him being there for the duel. "A duel implies it'll be a fair fight." Skyler says cheerfully, "This? This is gunna be a *ganking*. We're gunna club that bitch like she's a baby seal and we need a new fur coat." His grin widens. "And since we've already returned the deed? I say we burn the fucking place down on our way out. That mansion is *insane* and I'm glad I wasn't the only one to find it ridiculous."

Carver let her thoughts traverse the winding halls of the Umbral Manor, of its mute servants and a foundation built on lies. Of the corpse lotus vines in the basement and its massive black slimes, of a butler who knew all its secrets and refused to help. Of red lips and a mocking letter.

"I agree. We shoul'." Probably the sweetest gesture she could ever give. An arsonist's hug. "Given it a lot of thought too. I think Graves might be a slave to the vampire. I think he sheltered her for a long time. No doubt fed her more than a few souls. Whatever the case? It would be better if it was just embers."

"Are we entirely sure he isn't a vampire too?" Skyler asks with a frown, "I mean, I wouldn't mind burning him alive just for the bullshit he put us through. If it'd been an Adventure Guild-sponsored gig, I'm *positive* he'd be up for sanctions." He cocks his head, "So if I try to burn the place, you won't stop me? I'll get with my alchemist contact and see if he'll give me a discount for bulk purchases." He ruefully adjusts his hold on the package he's carrying, "I'm a little broke at the moment. Spent all my money on some magical gadgets. So hopefully it'll be a deep discount."

He glances around, and adds, a bit quieter, "I don't want to be a liability during the battles to come. I'm not Murder, I'm not an Archmage like Telamon or a Fairy Princess like Lana-Banana." He thins his lips and shakes his head slowly, adding in a louder voice, "But the enchantment I got on my sword should help with the harlot in Umbral Manor! The guy that did it said it was aces against undead."

"I will help you," Carver clarifies. "To lay down the powder. To set the spark. To share a beer. As for Graves... if he is, and time allows, he will get knife or arrow or sun as well." There is a lot of ifs. Nothing is assured. There time might be very brief. No cut of ghostweed to ward off a ghost the size of Heth. She smirks as Skyler lists through some storied names. "You are none of those things." That includes a liability. "You are Heartdriven. My Mada would have liked you. Or spanked you for all the cheek. Both?" She chuckles and gives a helpless bob of her shoulders. "Sorry. Endtimes has me runnin' my mouth about little and lots."

"What enchantment do you mean? Some sort of holy script or lingering positive energy?" Carver asks.

"I'll bring a cask of dwarven ale and we can get shit faced and piss in the ashes of Umbral Manor." Skyler promises Carver with a grin so broad he gets a dimple in one cheek. "Then we'll take care of Graves and his golem fuckboy."

He perks when the subject of his gear comes up, grin going sharper as he tears at the paper, pausing to put the pretty bow on top of his auburn hair like a hat. Dashing! "It's called 'lifesurge'. Enchanter said it boosts life energy, warding off necromantic attacks while also generating positive energies whenever it strikes the undead. Supposedly it'll heal me and enhance life-energy, or if I'm feeling vindictive it'll create a burst of the same energy to burn undead." He unsheathes the blade, beaming at the blade as it seems to catch a light that isn't even there, "Only works on the undead, not fiends or slimes, but it'll be right nice when Heth attacks."

"Useful against the Wights as well." Carver says with a nod. "Though, they say Heth himself is something... else. Not undead. Of the Void. I asked around a little to try to understand it and was left unsatisfied. "The vampire, too, will fear it. As will any spawns she happens to bring with her to our fight. I hadn't considered it. I have a bit saved up... suppose I may as well spend it myself. For it will do me no good iffin' my fate is to be a shuffling dead as well."

"I think it might be wise to bring ways to shield your mind as well." Carver finishes. "Most of her type have ways to fool the mind, or worse, bend you to serve. I will shop around and see iffin' there are some potions still around to help with that. You are staying then? In Alexander? To, uh... whatever happens?"

"If I'm face to face with Heth, I'm dead already." Skyler says bluntly, with a shrug of one shoulder, "I'm not god-blessed. I don't have any innate sorcery and I'm *certainly* not one of the learned. All I have is being physically fit, and clever with a blade."

He smiles ruefully, "If I didn't spend every single gold piece that I can on gear, I'd have been dead months ago." Humility? Wow. He cocks his head, and adds, "Of course I'm staying. Death is just the next great adventure, after all, and years ago I decided that I wanted to live my life in such a way that even the Gods take a moment to be impressed at how much I squeezed out of it." He chuckles, "So let's go find some garlic rolls, and we can figure out how best to acquire flammable substances, yeah? Maybe we can rustle up Culix and the others and *really* plan how we're going to party after we gank the slut in the red lipstick." He shakes his head, "I mean, really? That shade of red just makes her look cheap."

"It really was garish," Carver agrees as the two go off in search of garlic rolls, as the clock ticks... ticks... ticks...