OEW

Early evening saw Gan and Orison traveling on Stupid Horse to the contact spot for Nub, he'd never actually been to. Absentmindedly, Orison realized that two grown men in full gear wasn't far from maxing out the horse's capacity. Dipping into the already deeply 'in the red' funds to get weapons and some basic leather for himself was a decision that even Droya supported if he was planning on becoming more 'proactive'. After all, he wasn't going for a swim but into fringe areas that may have elves or local fauna that might take exception to his presence.

About three quarters til their destination, Orison slowed down to a walk. Not long after an arrow dug into the ground not too far from the front of Stupid Horse. Looking around, with the help of his mask brightening up the twilight gloom around him, he spotted two obsidian elves with bows.

Placing a hand over the one Gan was about to draw his own bow with, Orison said, "I'm here to see an old man with some simples to ease his suffering."

The one who fired his bow said, "I don't care why you're here, pigskin. Couriers are to stay to the road and in daylight. That was the deal."

Orison thought, "So not the lookout... Sh*t."

Aloud, he said, "Illness and infirmity doesn't respect mortal agreements and I'm not a courier, I'm a healer. It's one of your own I'm here for, against my better judgment. Someday it might be you that needs some healing at an unagreed to place and time. Your call."

The two elves conferred and the 'pluckier' one said, "Alright, healer. I got a toe that needs looked at. Your companion stays where he is, I'll meet you in the middle and you prove your skills. All goes well and I get something out of it, we believe you are what you say you are and you get your safe passage. I'll let the replacements know that you might be appearing on your return journey... Deal?"

Mentally cursing, Orison agreed. For the next ten minutes, Orison swallowed pride and bile as he half knelt with an unpleasantly smelling foot propped on his knee. He was tempted to seal the infection in with a healing spell but didn't want to imagine what his welcome would be the next time if he had to make this trek again. Getting tipped a silver after using numbing ointment, delicately trimming the ingrown nail out with his dagger then cleaning and wrapping up the toe, made him upset for the half second it took to remember that these guys were dirt poor and it was likely all the man could afford.

"Change into a clean pair of socks every day or every time they get damp, which will be often if you're walking around in this heat. Let it get air when you can and I hope I don't need to tell you to keep it clean... Use a little high strength alcohol on it a couple times a day for the first few, if you have it." Despite his unfriendly feelings, Orison didn't like doing things halfway.

"Yeah... It's just a little digging in that lasted this long. Seems a lot of fuss over nothing," the elf said.

Gravely, Orison said, "You were a few days from losing your toe, maybe your whole leg if the infection reached your blood. Does it seem like a lot of fuss over nothing now?"

Orison looked at the other elf and said, "If you see your friend having a hard time putting his boot on because he didn't listen to me, you get him to whatever healer you've got. A little hurt pride isn't worth becoming a cripple over."

Back on their way, Gan asked, "Why'd you go so far out of your way?Let him lose his foot if he wants to be stupid."

Orison sighed. "Gan, you come from a place that plays hard but doesn't hesitate to go to a healer over a scratch that doesn't look right. Nearly every Northlander is raised knowing that they could lose their life over a little frostbite or infection. Half of these elves don't even fear death and I mean death of any kind not just bravery in the face of. What they do fear is being an embarrassment. He'd go to his deathbed cursing me and calling for my blood no problem but he'd never admit that he was crippled or dying because he was stupid.

"I don't care whether he lives or dies but I don't want him or his family causing the consulate difficulties, at least not until after I'm gone... I'm worried about people with no better options going to the consulate for healing now, though. Turn enough away, it's a fight. Take them in and they get sick or die anyway, it's a fight."

While Gan and Orison were talking about the similarities and differences between Northlanders and obsidian elves, another arrow landed in front of stupid horse.

Tiredly, Orison said, "I'm here to see an old man with some simples to ease his suffering."

"He has suffered long. Why do you come now?" a voice in the darkness asked.

Orison thought, "Oh thank gawd." then said, "The silence between our last dealings leaves me ill at ease."

The voice said, "Remove your mask so that I may insure you are the one on whom he waits."

Orison complied before an obsidian elf with faintly glowing red eyes revealed herself. "Your sight must be sh*t in the dark. Your glow's almost as bad as mine."

"Depends on how much blood remnants or magic's around," Orison replied as she led them to a remote cabin.

The vampire laughed and said, "If it helps you see blood then there are probably worse things that stand out."

Wryly, Orison said, "I'll never look at an inn room the same way again and I'd rather cut off my hands than wash the soldiers' laundry."

She chuckled and said, "You may be waiting for some time. It's a collection night. Speaking of, my sire's geas protects you from my hunger but your friend is distracting... No danger, my large friend. I am simply feeling the need. Any chance that you'd be interested in a little rough trade, Northlander, er, Highlander? Normally it's not so difficult to tell."

Orison spoke on Gan's behalf. "So we're clear, that's a no but is your sire a certain 'gold' guy?"

Pouting, she said, "That's the old man."

"Then step outside and I'll see what we can do for you," Orison said.

Without a complaint, she gracefully slipped into the night. Originally Gan was against bleeding into a bottle so Orison started. Seeing his 'little boss' providing, he compromised with going halfsies. Orison fished by doctoring up the nearly two cups of blood with a little sprinkle of soul crystal powder from the ring of broken chips and pieces circling the formation in the 'dark' of his space along with a couple drops of vigor potion. A touch of healing and a cleaning later, he called her back in.

Swishing it around a bit, he said, "A refreshment for the lady but since we're the guests, I was wondering if we could get something to drink while we wait as well."

Eyes never leaving the blood bottle, she poured them some wine and exchanged her bottle for his, then said, "It was a bit rude. We don't receive many visitors, you see. Cheers!"

After toasting one another, Orison put a vital potion drop in each one of his and Gan's wine glass before enjoying. After drinking, the vampire's eye glow shifted a little into the purple spectrum before she fell to the ground moaning and writhing. Orison felt like slapping himself in the forehead for being dumb. In all the stuff that had been going on, he'd never really went forward with anymore testing on the results he'd gotten from Nub's experiment experiences. With the sensitivity of vampires to soul crystal and vitality in blood, he should have guessed his blood was way too potent for a vampire to drink undiluted. As soon as her antics started getting graphic, Gan and then Orison a bit reluctantly, stepped outside for decency's sake and for Orison, guilt.

His voice breaking a little, Orison asked, "That... Did that do anything, you know, for you?"

Gan's chuckle seemed a little flat as he said, "If anyone else asked... I suppose her enthusiasm was contagious but my mind kind of drifted to other, um, inspiration from there.

Orison patted Gan's shoulder and said as he adjusted himself, "No judgment, buddy... All said and done, I think I might as well apologize to her twice because I'll probably be remembering that later."

"Remembering what later?" Nub's amused voice resounded from the darkness.

"Ah. Well, think I might have temporarily broken your progeny." Orison said sheepishly.

After looking in on her, Nub asked with false cheer, "Did she ask or did you offer?"

Orison said, "She asked for Gan's blood but he wasn't that willing. It ended up being half his and half mine, less than two cups worth with the proper mix. It just didn't dawn on me until she started acting funny that I might not want to think of my blood as normal. That is all on me."

Nub sighed. "No harm meant. I'll have her run it out in daylight. Fortunately, that's her first and it was far and wide too potent. She's going to be feeling unwell afterwards. Between being too gone to remember the best parts and all too aware of the bad ones she'll not suffer any long term effects. I suppose I could have warned you when we did those little experiments that you smelled like a walking bag of your mix but that was before. Now I can barely smell your blood over the... everything extra."

Orison apologized profusely and said, "This was less ignorance and more thoughtless stupidity. Is there anything within reason I could do to make it up to her?"

Nub rubbed his nose and said, "I doubt she'll be complaining much but she might be a little afraid of accepting drinks from you in the future. Donate a vigor and vital potion in her name to our treasury and I'm sure that she'll think highly of you."

Orison looked wistfully at his dwindling pile of even more mundane goods in his space and handed them over. "I've ran into an issue and I need to make some quick liquid funds... By liquid, I mean coin. No offense if the clarification wasn't needed but after saying it I realized the possibility of social differences in meaning."

Nub nodded while stroking his beard. "I thought that the consulate and greedy patricians might over tax your reserves someday."

Orison scowled into the distance. "If they had managed to fleece me of over 80,000 gold in assets, the obsidian elves wouldn't have had to worry about destroying the consulate. I would have burned it to the ground myself. No, this is more of a personal grievance with nature and reality."

Nub's jaw barely managed to keep itself attached until he recovered himself and said, "That's one Abyss of a grudge with nature."

Orison nodded and said, "I'll make my pitch quick. For every person of the recreational murderer, child molester and rapist kind that you let me kill, I'll grant you two of these small crystals to split profit even on. If two happen to be obsidian elves with spirit guardians, I'll grant you one of the large ones to split profit with."

Nub looked at Orison oddly for a moment but then thought about it more logically. "Must they be of that variety, trash farm livestock?"

Orison said, " I insist, with backstory. Please keep it honest with me, Nub. I'd like to believe we've been good family to one another thus far. I wouldn't forgive myself if business ruined that."

Dull eyed, most likely his professional murderer face, Nub said, "What yield of mortal flesh are you looking to reap?"

Orison said, "At the moment, I have eight small and two large. If by some means there are more with guardian spirits, I could come up with a maximum of two more."

Nub said, "Four without guardian and four with. Any reason for the preference of my mother race?"

Orison said, "It's the spirits not the race that I'm interested in."

Nub said, "I could take you ghost hunting if that's what you need. It wouldn't be all prettily wrapped up in a bow for you but you wouldn't have to be a murderer of men. I can see some of what makes you, Orison, who claims familial ties with me. Killing to protect yourself or in the passion of vengeance is vastly different from killing a man you have no reason to personally hate. I'm assuming that's why you didn't join The Order to begin with...

"And to be honest, the business wouldn't ruin our current relationship nearly as quickly as watching you kill trussed up men would. That goes doubly for watching you kill people of my mother race made helpless, deserving or not. Part of why I find our visits so enjoyable is the you who is free of the filth my world is seeped in. Watching you stain yourself in it and knowing I was the reason why would make me unable to forgive MYSELF."

Both were quiet for a time before a woman's gasping moan and shaky laughter broke it.

Gan interjected, "I'm keen on getting knee deep into anything you want to throw yourself at, little boss, but ghosts I'm no good with."

Absentmindedly Orison nodded toward Gan, then said, "The weakest variety of ghost and undead would cause me a net loss on what I'm trying to achieve but I'm a bit iffy on throwing myself against powerful ones."

Nub considered then said, "What do you have that you believe is good against undead?"

Orison said, "Fire Shot, a slightly unstable fireball and a bound battleaxe that's a bit more damaging than the norm due to me having to rebuild its model. I can get a good twenty or so feet toss that'll cut down a guardian spirit in one hit... as an example."

Nub chuckled a little nervously. "Fire and vampires make bad companions, especially exploding fire."

Orison said, "I'm fairly certain I can gauge but if you get caught in the magic's effect you shouldn't be hurt by it as long as I can view you as one of mine. Secondary effects from natural combustion and burning don't have the same protection."

Nub said somewhat disbelieving, "Your magic can tell friend from foe?"

Orison nodded. "As long as there is someone hostile to me nearby, my magic won't harm people I see as friendly as long as they actually are."

Seeing as Orison wasn't keeping it a secret from this man, Gan said, "Saw him throw one of those axes right through his mom and kill the man who was trying to hurt her."

"How good are you with swords?" Nub asked Orison after mulling over Gan's testimony.

Orison replied, "A two-handed one in mine would be a joke. I can handle a one-handed alright but not nearly as good as a dagger or a bow."

Nub seemed to come to a decision he'd been mulling. "I'll extend you some trust but I need you to extend me some too. We need some specialized equipment. Give me the crystals upfront and-"

Orison handed him the eight small crystals and two large as soon as he asked, interrupting Nub's speech.

Nub looked at them blankly for a moment then said, "Alright... Northlander, if I give you a sword that can make ghosts bleed, would you still fear to face them?"

Red-faced, Gan said, "Never said I feared them to begin with! It's just frustrating to get slapped around and sucked on by something you can't hit back."

Nub and Orison shared a look. Both thought better of commenting.

"It will take me the rest of tonight to get everything together. So we can begin tomorrow. If I'm called away, I'll have Mei take you... I want you to understand, there is a possibility of running into people. Though I doubt it will happen, if I or my progeny is incapacitated for some reason, they can't leave to identify us later," Nub said.

After setting up a more convenient meeting place and discussing the finer details, Nub escorted them back to the road.

On their way back, Orison asked, "Are you good with this? I know what you just said but I'm not going to think less of you if ghosts and undead are just one of those things you don't handle well."

Gan said, "I wake up some nights from memories of that attack on the road to Whiteriver. It wasn't the walking dead or the ghosts that I remember so clearly, it was the feeling of helplessness... despair. The ghosts drew the fight out of them, the marshal and Hvass. One just clipped me and nearly caused me to give up and lay there. It might be a strange thing to say but as long as you're there, I'll be fine. And if I can get some good licks in, it'll help me put the nightmares down too.

"But you know, if it's just about needing the money, I wouldn't hesitate for a second to hand over the ring or circlet you gave me. They aren't-"

Orison shook his head and said, "It will always be something, Gan. Some people pulling strings in Centerland are trying to find a way to beggar us. This is just a hiccup on our side. The construction crew's going to try to find ways to get more money while doing less labor. Senators are going to urge for outrageous tax levies. Every step of the way, someone is going to be there trying to make us bleed out what gold we have and there will always be someone nearby ready to provide a bad term loan. The trade warehouse officer has already made an inquiry on mom and Nadir to see how we're situated financially. He's probably got a little chest with a prepared contract, waiting.

"The way I see it, if I can't afford it, I let them take it. I want to provide some security for mom and anyone else I get close to, that's all. There are definitely cheaper and probably even better ways to do it. One day, Gan, I'm going to be walking a longer road. I want to leave a good place for the ones who can't or don't want to keep walking with me."