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Neither Hector nor Vergil knew Imogen well; they’d not worked with her before in any proper capacity, and as such, they had no real expectations when it came to how long they ought to wait for her past the appointed time. Vergil was, for the most part, a patient man. Hector, in the past, had limited patience, but…at times back in the Imperium, there was quite a bit of waiting, and so he’d reluctantly gotten used to such a thing.
Nevertheless, Imogen was not actually that late; only a few minutes. This was no offense to either of them. She was quite chipper in demeanor, too.
“It’s really no bother. We’ve not been here long!” Hector smiled and waved back.
When Imogen addressed Vergil, “...pretty much, aye. My senses are sharp, however, so it is not likely we’ll wander lost for long. Once we stray from the city’s light, I think, tracking will come.” Or so he imagined. He knew the beasts were rare, but a vampyr with mastery of his skills could hone their senses to heights greater than what the condition granted him by default.
Hector appeared enchanted by the staff Imogen pulled out of the air, and Vergil, though he did not move, arms crossed over his chest as they were, raised his brow at the sight. Of the two, only Hector had seen anything regarding her skills, and Hector while had sung her praises, beyond the boy’s firsthand accounts and rumors, Vergil wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Regardless, having a dragonshard that large embedded in one’s pact weapon was, by all accounts, an impressive feat.
Hector spoke first, “Ah! Convenient. We’ve brought along Lunicite, ourselves– good that we’ll all have something to ease our casting.”
But then he sighed, “...only problem is the light might garner unwanted attention…” he trailed off for a moment, before realizing something, “...but that’s not a big deal! Right? As a Sunsinger, I’d think you are quite adept at banishing shadows.”
His optimism regarding her abilities appeared to be correct, as when Imogen spoke again, her commentary regarded both the unusual nature of the weapon he had in his possession as well as affirming his assumptions regarding her ability to banish shadows.
“Oh-...” he started before moving to hand the polearm to Vergil, “I’d actually…made this for him; it’ssss…new!” And by new, he meant that he’d refined it earlier in the morning. He’d actually crafted the base of it awhile ago, but he was prone to taking it back to inspect, mend any flaws and sharpen it any time he thought Vergil would actually have to use it. This was one of the few things Hector was at all meticulous about. It was, consequently, ‘as good as’ new, but not quite new.
“My personal weapons I don’t carry around…though maybe I should?” He mused; the boy was no Reaver, either, so it wasn’t as if he had anything stored in that regard.
As Vergil took back the weapon from Hector, “...you will make something prior to engaging the hydra, though.” This wasn’t a request, nor was it stated as a demand; his words were delivered simply as if the assumption was that Hector would listen, with little force. And to that, the boy nodded.
During that exchange, if Imogen glanced at the void that was Hector’s shadow– noticeably more abyssal than anyone else’s– she’d see something like smoke begin to rise from it. Very quickly she would realize, however, it was not any sort of smoke. The tendrils of whatever it was would quickly increase in density into something more of a miasmatic slime, and then they would appear to layer over one another, slowly building, taking shape. That shape, she would soon realize, was that of a humanoid, and then when the form of a man had been made from that inky blackness, one around Vergil’s height but more lithe in build, the substance would appear to solidify further; much of the shadows would then bleach and the figure would end up a full gradient of white to gray to black as more details solidified, but he would remain entirely void of color. In the end, one could almost compare the appearance of his body to marble with tendrils of that same shadow roiling over the surface (the spirit had, certainly, modeled himself after the men one would expect to see composed of such a material, too.) He was entirely unclothed, but given the circumstance, he had felt no need to manifest anything that one would consider indecent.
“Wₑₗₗ–! ₜₕₐₜ ₛₒᵤₙdₛ ⱼᵤₛₜ ₐwfᵤₗ,” the spirit spoke, stepping back from Hector, a bit further away from Imogen. “ᵢ fᵢgᵤᵣₑ ₗᵢₖₑ ₜₕᵢₛ ᵢₜ’ₗₗ bₑ ₑₐₛᵢₑᵣ fₒᵣ yₒᵤ ₜₒ ₛₚₒₜ ₘₑ. Dₒ ₜₐₖₑ cₐᵣₑ ₙₒₜ ₜₒ ₛₜᵣᵢₖₑ ₘₑ wᵢₜₕ ₜₕₐₜ…ₙₒᵥₐ fᵢᵣₑ ₒf yₒᵤᵣₛ, ₐₙd ᵢ, ᵢₙ ₜᵤᵣₙ, wᵢₗₗ dₒ ₘy ₗₑᵥₑₗ bₑₛₜ ₜₒ ₛₜₐy fₐᵣ fᵣₒₘ yₒᵤᵣ wₐy.” His voice was musical, though otherworldly, composed of sibilant whispers and with an almost metallic ring to it. He did not speak in any one language, either, but an infinite amount at once; the listener's ears would perk to whatever was most decipherable to them.
It was abnormal for the aidolon to make his presence known without Hector’s direct prompting, but given the circumstances, he decided he did not care– like this, it would be easier, he thought, to avoid friendly fire. Hector, oblivious, turned to look when the spirit spoke, surprised, as the elf had not noticed the figure taking shape behind him at all, but he voiced no complaints. Vergil appeared unphased entirely.
“I-...yes, ah, that’s him. Isn’t he neat? He and I are bound, though, so if you smite him with a lick of that fire, that…bodes ill for me, too! Just…just a warning,” though Hector spoke with a smile, he was, evidently, unnerved to some degree.
Vergil shook his head. “I’ve faith in your precision, Imogen–” there was a subtle hardness to his tone there, “...but if there’s nothing else to add, shall we set forth, then?” and that hardness immediately faded upon the latter half of his words.
Assuming they would, after giving Imogen a chance to respond, travel north, Vergil would invoke Veracity to heighten his sense of smell further, and it wouldn’t be long until he detected a trace of a hydra, though he knew not any of the attributes thereof. Upon this recovery, he’d pause.
“There’s remnants of a hydra’s scent in higher volumes than I thought…but beyond remnants, I’ve only caught the trail of one. Know you the terrain ‘round here, Imogen? For us to pursue it, we must now leave the road behind.” He said this with some understanding that the Kalzasern wilderness held dangers, though he didn’t have much experience this far north.
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Aidolon Speech
"Kathalan Tongue/Speech"
"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Mythrasi Tongue/Speech"