Ghouls and Dragons

[Freya]

Ghouls and Dragons
65th of Searing, 124rd Year, A.o.S.

Location: Outside a small village North of Gel'Grandal

It was a warm night, not quite humid but enough that despite the breeze Freya felt no need to sit near the fire which burned a few feet away. She had set up her tent on a hill less than a mile from the village of Aetherwald. The name was oddly appropriate. The forest which surrounded the area all but teamed with life, both magical and non. There was an energy in the air, as if the veil between realities were thinning. The spirits seemed to sense this as well as they were more numerous and active than she had seen of late. Her eyes glanced upward at a pair of wind spirits, thin ribbons of green and gold light which twined in pace with the currents around. Ember spirits danced around her fire, and on a rock near where Asteria sat in his lizard form a stone spirit perched on frog like legs and looked down at the village below.

In her hands Freya slowly shuffled a well worn deck of cards and steadily placed down three cards. She turned over the first card... The Dream, upright, symbolizing a beginning, a journey full of potential and risks. It could mean many things, but as she looked at it Freya felt a sense of horizons opening before her. The next card revealed a foxes cunning eyes staring back at her. The Magus. The animal headed humanoid seemed to smile at her, and a slight chill coursed down her spine. A manifestation, the coming of something or someone to change events. After gazing at the Magus for a time she turned her eyes to the last card and turned it over. A man cloaked in shadow, a wolf's muzzle peaking out from the hood with its bared fangs illuminated by the lamp that he held in one hand. The Veiled Lamp. A need for introspection, to look within and prepare for something that would challenge perceptions. Secrets. The unknown coming to light.

She felt Asteri's focus turn toward the road, and Freya too looked up over the fire in its direction. The spirits had grown quiet, retreating back into their plane. Someone, or something, was coming.

[Masagh]

---

The night was balmy and warm, with a cooling breeze dancing amongst the Aetherwald trees around Masagh. It had been seasons since he had left the city. He had spent most of his time away from the Compound recently in the sewers hunting Kinvaren. He was still sure his mother did not know he snuck away. Her fury would not be contained if she did. He found it easier each night to disobey her, as though the continued subterfuge emboldened his rash behavior.

The forest fell silent as he passed, trudging along the road with his hood down and chains clinking softly. Only the small woodland spirits moved around him. The animals rarely voiced their songs and sounds when he moved through their territories. Masagh thought they must smell or sense the cold ichor in him, and know he was not their kin amongst the living. The sewer beasts were never so timid.

Masagh paused at the crest of a small hill as the next stretch of road came into view. A small campfire danced amongst the shadows to the side of the road like a jewel in the night. A single great oak spirit swirled lazily about the trunk of the tree next to him as he stared at the fire. Ten nights ago he would simply step through Slipspace and past the traveler. But his recent interaction with a redvein made him optimistic. Perhaps a lack of judiciously applied trust was one of the Creth’s weaknesses. Certainly the Kinvaren had associated with the living and benefitted from it.

He ground his teeth at his own comparison, the slightly rotten muscles of his jaw bulging. A foolish notion to compare his family to that upstart faction. Still. He decided to walk to the fire and see what he found.

As he approached Masagh realized that it was a small fire, lighting a modest camp. A woman sat outside the firelight and mysterious in shadow. He could see no other sentry or sentinel. She seemed clad in black until her hands moved with finesse before her, weaving something. Then he saw her clothes were blue in the light of the fire. And she was not weaving. She was shuffling a deck of cards between long nimble fingers.

He had so far greeted every redvein he had met with a sword and a paranoid challenge. It had mixed results in terms of establishing report. Tonight Masagh let his eyes follow the cards for a moment, then drift back up to the woman’s face. She had clearly seen him coming and hadn’t been outwardly hostile.

He stopped about thirty feet from her. “Is it not too dark to see your cards?” He asked by way of greeting.

---

[Freya]

From his rock Asteri opened one eye to watch the undead as he approached, but quickly closed his eyes once again. Freya glanced toward her companion who seemed indifferent to the stranger's presence and relaxed ever so slightly.

"The dark is not so thick as to obscure my vision." Freya said with a note of amusement, her reptilian eyes expanding slightly as she looked past the flames to get a clearer look at the man. When she drew in a breath she could smell the scent of death on him, but it was uncertain if it were due to his nature, or his profession. Given the garments he wore with its chains that gave off an icy chill, Freya at first thought it was the second... but the eyes which glittered beneath the hood made her second guess that instinct.

Tearing her focus away from the man Freya gathered the cards and began to shuffle them once more. Her hands moved with practiced ease, but her mind was not on the act itself. She was listening.

Overhead the clouds parted once more to let the crescent moon shine down over the land, casting back shadows and revealing their features in more detail. Freya's pupils narrowed as the light glittered off the light scales along her neck and hands.

"You seem weary." She motioned to the fire, "Come and rest as is your right as a fellow traveler."

"When the Stars Align"

[Masagh]

---

The woman spoke with a sort of self-confidence Masagh found enticing. It was something he wanted to find for himself. She looked briefly at him, then away at the cards in front of her. Turning her attention away from him was a silent but powerful gesture of trust in his eyes. Masagh was even more willing to reciprocate by the time she motioned to the fire and invited him to rest.

The ghoul stepped forward and into the firelight. He glanced at the spirit sleeping next to her before crossing his legs and sitting a few feet from her. He creaked and cracked his way to the ground, his joints protesting as they often did when he was less than at full vitality. He watched her shuffle the cards.

When the moon broke free of the clouds overhead Masagh lowered his hood with a swipe of his hand. The chains of the Fademantle clinked as they slid away from the firelight slightly around him. “I thank you for your hospitality,” Masagh’s deep rasp seemed ill practiced. “It’s not many who would offer me the warmth of their fire.”

He chuckled and rolled his head side to side, making his spine crack. He finally turned his gaze to her. While his eyes were dull and dark, the murky golden glint of his ghoulish bloodline shining through on occasion, hers were a piercing and unnatural blue. For the second time in the season he felt as though a redvein was staring through his soul.

Masagh turned from her gaze, shifting his own to the dancing flames. “I am called Masagh, knight of House Creth.” He began, ignoring the jolt of adrenaline that came with giving her his family name. Risk was his path forward, he had already decided he was breaking from family tradition in that way. “A redvein at the edge of the Aetherwald looking at fate, eh? I’m sure there’s a story there.”

He turned back to look at her, eyes downcast to her cards. The deck was unfamiliar to him, though he had little experience with such things. It looked to be of high quality and perhaps hand-made in its ornate detail. The cards danced in her hands.

“What has fate got to say this evening?” He asked sardonically, returning his gaze to the moon.

---

[Freya]

"Then the hospitality of fellow travelers has fallen far." Freya said with a shake of her head, "It used to be merchants and adventurers of all sorts would seek shelter together while on the roads, the lines of race and nationality set aside for the safety found in numbers."

It seemed not that long ago that Freya spent nearly every evening camped with a group that had just met that day, sometimes traveling together for days or weeks at a time before parting at the next cross roads. Yet of late there were fewer and fewer who traveled these lonely roads. Perhaps it was the rise in popularity of airships in the last few decades, or maybe the invention of those horseless carriages. Freya found that trains were more enjoyable than either of the former options, but still there was something profoundly satisfying in traveling by foot or carriage from one place to the next. Something was surely lost when one did not spend time touching the ground with their own two feet.

When he lowered his hood Freya finally got a good look at the man's features, and there was a note of surprise in her eyes that was quickly masked with a smile.

"I am Freya." She inclined her head slightly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Masagh of House Creth."

Though she did not know the family name, Freya knew of the undead. The normal undead at least, those with the little in the way of intelligence or sapience. Ghosts, fades, wights and the like. This was her first time conversing with one of the intelligent undead, and by his bearing and possession of a house name Freya suspected Masagh was not an ordinary one at that. Perhaps one of the pure bloods? They were uncommon but not unheard of, but most seemed relegated to the north and not so close to Gel'Grandal.

"Redvein?" Freya laughed, "There is always a story, but I promise you mine is not that interesting."

Freya shuffled the deck and flicked a card up before her eyes, though she looked past it to Masagh as she asked, "Are you interested in what the cards have to say?"

"When the Stars Align"

[Masagh]

---

Masagh did not breath, but he moved his shoulders in the mimicry of a snort of laughter and smirked. “I’m sure it’s a more interesting story than you are letting on, but it’s yours. I won’t press.” He glanced from her to the spirit sitting next to her and back. Now that he was seated and closer, he saw the glimmer of something on her skin. A Rune? No, it seemed to be scales.

She was certainly more than she was letting on. Well that was fine, so was he. Strangers could keep their secrets, and keep a fire together. He wasn’t here for her anyway. When she held up the card, he again found his eyes drawn to it. He wondered if there was indeed some magic about the deck. The woman, Freya, he was certain had some magic about her.

“You keep the company of a spirit and rest at the Aetherwald, perhaps I should be afraid.” He stated with sardonic placidity. He cracked his fingers, each joint voicing protest. “I’m interested, as long as it’s what I want to hear.” He conceded finally. He gave another small smile out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve seen lots of magics in my time, but nothing like this.” He gestured with a flick of his white finger at the cards. “Are they ensorcelled?”

Masagh watched as the fortune seer worked her craft, but his eyes soon drifted to the spirit. At first he had taken the thing to be another denizen of the Aetherwald, but now he saw the thing had a similar shade of blue as she wore. Was this thing her servant perhaps? Was this mysterious woman more than human?

It was odd to think that he might have found another outcast here at the edge of some backwater village. And her so willing to welcome him to her fire. Either she was ignorant of the world, or he was. He hoped it was the latter and there was more to trust out there than only those who shared his name.

As her cards moved, the Fademantle chains clinked on their own. The dull sound of the iron seemed out of place in this natural setting to him. Masagh self-consciously gathered the chains in bundles and tucked them under his legs. That was a bit of trust he was not ready to give yet.

---

[Freya]

Asteri opened one eye to look at Masagh, but quickly closed it once more. He seemed content to sit quietly while the two conversed. Freya smiled down at him, reaching a finger to scratch the top of his head affectionately.

"We are always surrounded by the Wild Spirits." she said, "Though normally they are not so easily seen. Tonight it seems that the veil in this area is quite thin... or perhaps it is something else."

Returning the card to the deck Freya began to absently shuffle the cards while she spoke.

"Some would call it one of the most ancient forms of magic. It requires no rune, but finds its roots as far back as any of those sorceries." She looked down at the deck and flipped over the top card, an image a woman with a cat's face which made Freya smile, "Cartomancy, or card reading is an old form of fortunetelling. Some thing it is merely a trick to entertain, but there is much more too it than simple trickery."

When he had settled himself on his cloak Freya extended the deck toward Masagh, prompting him to shuffle the cards and return it to her. She then selected three cards and lay them out side by side.

"As we share a fire tonight, I will not charge you for the first reading." A light of mischief came to her reptilian eyes as she turned over the first card.

It revealed a hawk-headed woman with ethereal wings, waist deep in water. One hand held up to the sky where a chalice overflows with water, only to be caught in the chalice she holds just above the surface.

"Temperance." Freya said, "One of the major arcana. It symbolizes balance, moderation and a need for patience."

From the side a deep voice came from the familiar who still held his eyes closed, "A struggle for balance, desire for control. A hunger which urges action and resist restraint."

The next card in order was turned over revealing a sword pointed down with a dragon's tail wrapping the blade. The number 6 was painted in the corners.

"The six of Blades. A card of warriors and nobility. It represents a transition, movement and at times an escape from turmoil."

"A journey away from pain, from struggle."

The last card was turned over revealing a wand with a serpent coiled around its length, a crown sat atop the snakes head.

"The King of Wands... Creativity, Willpower and Leadership." Freya picked up the card and examined it, "This card speaks of mastery of those inherent qualities. It is a sign of natural leadership, but also speaks of vision and authority tempered by creativity and passion."

"A challenge." This time Asteri opened his eyes to look at Masagh as he spoke, "Look beyond duty, beyond survival."

There was a soft pulse of magic and Freya released the card in her hand and let it and its companions hover in the air in front of her, spinning slowly in place.

"Your journey is one of balance. You feel forces pulling you in different directions, your ambition warring against your sense of responsibility and duty. The cards advice advancing forward, but to approach the path with patience and moderation as you navigate the complex forces arrayed against you."

One by one she plucked the cards and returned them to the deck, and again began to shuffle the cards as she finished.

"You are in a state of transition, leaving behind your past struggles while being called to step into your full potential. Let your strength and creativity guide your decisions, while maintaining a balance in the forces that seek to draw you to their side."

"When the Stars Align"

[Masagh]

---

The spirits of the Aetherwald flitted through the trees like fireflies in the distant shadows. The easy humor of Masagh’s bearing fell away as Freya spoke. His face fell into a serious expression, her words weighing heavy. He had shuffled the cards himself, as prompted. He knew she might have some trick of the draw he hadn’t seen. Something told him this was authentic, however. They had definitely not met before. She did not know him, but her words seemed so relevant.

Masagh’s gaze locked onto the cards as they appeared. After Freya named the cards and their ominously accurate descriptions, the spirit next to her croaked out a foreboding counterpoint. The knight stared at the spirit. It seemed to speak the challenge where Freya spoke the hope. It was an eerie balance. One that dragged the ghoul into introspection as the final card was pulled.

“A challenge.” The spirit stared at him. “Look beyond duty, beyond survival.” Masagh broke the eye contact, staring at the fire once more.

Easier said than done, lizard.

He listened to her explanation of the reading in silence. When she was done Masagh turned to the fortune teller. “Thank you for that.” He swallowed once. “Your cards work. I heard too much uncomfortable truths in your words to discount it now.” He smiled then, but it was a troubled one. “Let me pay at least for that.”

He reached out a hand and placed two gold coins on a rock between them. “For you and your spirit.”

He swallowed again. It felt cray to ask advice from some random young redvein on the road. Then again, he had made wilder mistakes in recent years. The truth was he felt lost. His only confidant in his goal had only him. Two undead was a poor network of support.

“Tell me.” He began, rubbing a hand over his face and looking back at the fire again. “How would you know how to balance ambition and responsibility when… when your responsibility birthed your ambition?” After the words left him Masagh found he needed an answer. Desperately.

He had lived his life in service to his family. He had learned pride in stories of boldness, and caution in stories of horror. It was a false reality, that which the Creth clung to. Masagh had never known the glories of the past, never seen the power of the Undead Empire. Only the sewers of Gel’Grandal. He did not have laurels to wear and pretend at honor passed. Now he wanted to find a way to make his fiction a reality once again.

“I am torn between…” He worked his mouth, searching for the words. “What I’ve been taught and when I see. The dream doesn’t satisfy anymore…”

---

[Freya]

Freya accepted the coins without hesitation, making them vanish in her sleave with a quick smile. She was not one to turn down offered coin.

She did not immediately answer him. It was not something Freya herself had ever faced after all. Ever since she was a little girl she had known she wished to follow in her aunt's footsteps. There has been little conflict in her responsibilities and ideals, and in most cases what she desired and what she needed to do often aligned with one another. A glance at Masagh, however, revealed that this was not the case for him. It was odd to think that even undead struggled with such dilemmas, despite the nature of their unlife.

At last she shrugged, "I do not know."

It was likely not the answer he wanted, but it was all that Freya could give.

"Your life is yours alone, and your ambition, no matter its origins, is a part of you. It seems to me that you face a question." The cards shuffled together once more, "What do you hold in higher regard? Your responsibility, or your ambition?"

Asteria yawned and Freya smiled as she petted his head with a finger, "The sun's warmth allows life to thrive. Some would say it is the sun's duty to continue to provide its light for the sake of others, but it does not shine because it feels responsible for the lives it sustains. It burns for its own sake."

"When the Stars Align"

[Masagh]

---

Old bones and withered tenders popped and creaked as the Ghoul leaned forward. He crossed his ankles and peered at her as she spoke, setting his elbows on his knees. After all that, he had been expecting some profound prophetic revelation when he finally opened up. He could not contain the grunt of amusement as she shrugged and admitted she didn’t know. Fate certainly had a sense of humor.

He listened to her words with more rapt attention. Perhaps it was the night, or the spirits around them, but Masagh felt that perhaps a sincere conversation with a complete stranger would inject just the perspective he needed. Lately his every action seemed to balance the legacy and fate of all those he cared for.

“My responsibility is survival, my ambition… life I suppose. Safety. Something.” He ground out. “Hard to pin it down when you’ve never seen it.” The words settled in him, deep in a way lies don’t. “I don’t know anything about the sun’s warmth or why it burns. But I hear your point about following your nature.” Masagh conceded. He glanced back to where her cards now lay.

A pair of wind spirits danced around them once and then faded off into the night. Masagh watched them go. “Thanks for the reading. It’s helped me put things into perspective.” Masagh said, staring after the spirits. Then he turned his attention to the lizard next to her. “How did you come by this one? And how’d you train it to know the cards?” He asked to shift the conversation.

He had known peripherally of summoners before, and fought a few on occasion, but never conversed with one. Summoning wasn’t one of the magics Creth hoarded, and the goblins kept their Runes guarded. The lizard had spoken after each draw as though it knew the cards as well as Freya did. Was that magic in the cards or in the spirit?

---