Legend of Ransera

The road had been long, but at least now the average, run-of-the-mill mistspawn as well as those new, terrible creatures mutated by the rift had disappeared. He had heard tell that there had been flashes of light in the sky, but that only stood to reason—after all, the rift had been in the sky. Whether it was those roving islands torn from the cityscape nearly a year ago, or that Imperial dreadnought, or pidges from Kalzasi, he couldn't get a straight answer. He couldn't decide what he thought, but ultimately, it didn't matter. He was tired, battered, cold, and hungry. None of these were things he liked to be. But with the unnatural things out of the way, it was safe—or safer—to travel the old ways.

He come out of the woods and found a road. There were rotting remains, flies buzzing, vultures circling, but even that was strangely comforting. Carrion eaters and the sickening creatures that fed on rot, they were natural. They had a part to play in the circle of life. The dead stayed dead. They didn't rise, twisted, twisting, seeking to corrupt as much as to consume. There were wolves and such, but they weren't so plentiful as they had been before, though they were gangling and hungry, long denied their natural share by the ravenous abominations from the skies.

When he heard the snap of timber, his knee-jerk reaction was alarm, but he talked himself down, breathed mindfully until his heart stopped hammering in his ears. As he turned the bend in the forested road, he smelled charred wood on the air. Strange, that.

"Hallo?" he called. It went against a year of making as little noise as possible in these woods, on these roads. They were far from one of the riverland forts, far from one of the standing armies that had kept some of Zaichaer's environs relatively safe. But there were people, and they looked as wild around the eyes as he did. The were thin as anything, but then, he looked starved himself. His once-burly frame showed the signs of privation.

He was welcomed, he was ushered closer, assured that all was well. They led him toward their master, who would keep him safe, they said.

⚔ While the laborers worked and planned with the builders, Dreyfus held his attention elsewhere, with those seeking relief from pain. The group that were being looked at with Hannah within the east wing of the estate. He had been using his vampyric powers to clean the infection in one of the refugees. A line of people was forming, either to be touched by his healing powers or to simply watch. Hannah watched closely as he worked, a faint scarlet glow echoing around his hands.

He awoke his vitalae as he tapped into the vitalae of the man before him, and once the connection was made he searched for the source of the infection. For this man, it was in his lungs, so much so that it was causing him to cough up blood. He soothed the man's uncomfortability by giving him a sense of euphoria to make it easier to do this. Looking to Hannah he nodded to her and she took a knife and made a cut onto the sick man's chest. He forced the infection through the blood and out to the cut on his chest. In one smooth yank, the infected blood was ripped from the man.

The splat of the blood echoed into a bowl, and after another moment he brought the man out of his euphoric state. Helping him to his feet he noticed the others usher someone else in. He looked as though he had seen better days, like most who had been coming to the estate in the past weeks since they arrived. For a moment he took the man in, finding the strength to keep his compulsion to stroke the man's dirty ginger hair. He wondered which hue of red it actually was after a good wash. Motioning to Hannah she took the dish and allowed him to stand.

"You look as though you have seen better days. Tell me, do you want something to eat or some fresh clothing? We dont have much but we can ensure you are taken care of." he gave the man a smile, motioning for him to follow. They exited the east wing and headed out to the commons area of the manor, where the foyer greeted every other part of the house. "So tell me where did you come from, are you a refugee or a transplant."

Finally, his crimson glowing orbs fell onto the haggard male with an overwhelming curiosity. ⚔


"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

Muddy blue eyes looked hither and thither as he was walked through the place, wild around the edges as if he were a caged animal or one that had gone feral after too long from civilized homes. The man from the forests heard a splatter and smelled the acrid, coppery scent of blood on the air, and it didn't smell quite right, but he couldn't put his finger on it, on what was different, on what was wrong. He was worrying at a shapeless hat between his callused, dirty hands.

Over the past year, he had certainly come across several injured people within Zaichaer proper or in the outskirts. It made sense, though, that there would be a physician here present if they were reclaiming the land, the estate. His eyes immediately hit the floor, though he rather wished they hadn't. There was blood there too—some old, some new. Some physicians were butchers, and he could only how this one wasn't of that sort.

"Yes, s-sir," he stammered, his hands accelerating around his hat. "M'not starving, but a bit of, um... diversity in my diet... might help. Don't want to steal the bread from other people's mouths, though."

Hard times meant hard people usually survived, usually rose to positions of authority and prominence. He didn't rightly know if the man in charge of this place was the man who had been in charge of it when the sky tore open and Zaicher went to shit. But the people who had led him from the treeline to this room had assured him that he had nothing to fear and that all was well. Butcher physicians were one thing, but physicians offering food and clothing were quite another—unless this man was like the Hexe who had lured young Hänsel and Gretel into her home and into her oven.

His gaze rose nervously only to find unnatural red eyes staring back at him.

"Nebelscheiße!"

Breaking out of the friendly, comforting grip of the man's servant, he backpedaled himself violently against the wall. He was going to die. He knew it to be true.

⚔ He couldn't help but catch the fainted whiff of aether. Magic was in the air, but it was subtle. He had noticed this ever since coming through the rift, but never really considered it. It was always a play on his sense when he was magic, a light tickle on his nose, or the sound off in the distance, as though he was feeling magic brush across his skin. In any case, however, he focused more on making sure their new arrival was welcomed and accommodated.

"Well it may not be much but we have plenty of wolf steaks to spare for the moment, till I can establish some supply lines with those among the Sky Isles. You should go see Hannah to be fed and looked at, I can tell you have been dealt a harsh hand before finding us, most who have come to find us have." he added though he was stunned when the man recoiled back. Dreyfus was confused about what could have spooked the mortal, looking around the foyer.

Those that had been in the large area simply snickered and giggled, one of whom made a gesture at the vampyre's eyes, causing Dreyfus to sigh and chuckle a bit. "My apologies. Most people find my gaze unsettling. Unfortunately, it comes with the magic I have been unwilling to bequeath with." he attempted to soothe. It was frustrating having to explain the source of his power that way, and unfortunate and dastardly acquisition against his will.

"I can assure you, you are safe here." he put both hands up, ensuring that he remained nonthreatening to the man. He also surmised that the man was a Zaichaeri native given the exclamation he let out. He then gave the man a bow that one of old money often gave when meeting new people. "I am Dreyfus Monteliyet, and this is my family home. As long as you are here you are family so please make yourself at home."

He would wait to see how the man would react, the rapid thudding of the man's heart beating in the vampyre's ear. he wanted nothing more than to silence it, but he was learning restraint thanks to these people, so he let it be. ⚔


"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

"Dämon," he muttered to himself, but his upbringing offered no defense against the infernal. The Gods were as suspect as magic, and he supposed he would have kissed the ground a Watcher of Purity walked on just then if it would keep him intact in body, mind, and spirit. But the others were laughing at him. They weren't shuffling, mindless and hungry like the mistborn. They seemed human, normal enough. It was a conundrum, and his belly growled embarrassingly. He shifted on his feet, pushed off from the wall. While he was cautious, he managed to manage his fear. Nobody survived the year of hells without a modicum of self-control.

"S-sorry, sir." His apology was genuine, chagrinned. "The mists changed many a man. Glowin' eyes aren't so terrible awful."

He wasn't comfortable, but he wasn't running, screaming toward the door either.

"Mister Monteliyet. Ernst Klein. Ahh—managed a shop in the before times. Seen terrible things in the woods. Been out there since..." His eyes went far away for a moment and then he shuddered, or shivered, or just shook it off. "Anyway, I... I meant what I said: I'm not starvin'. I don't want to take away from your people. But perhaps a few scraps. A safe place to sleep in. I heard the High City... well, it ain't high now except for some islands that ripped themselves right out of the earth, whether by Zaichaeri ingenuity or mistborn violence... Anyway, I heard it was safe again. Was headed back.

"If you've a workin' laundry, I suppose I could barter what I've got for something cleaner. What I've got has no great rents in it. Most things I've met... I've put more rents in their hide they they have in mine. Or my clothes, sir."

⚔ He watched intently as the man composed himself. It was good that he could reign his emotions in, the last thing the vampyre wanted to do was constrict the man with Vitalis to keep him from hurting himself and the others around him. After he calmed down he gave a glimpse into his situation before finding himself at the manor. Curious as the vampyre was, he wasn't about to pry into the man's previous dealings, it was evident that the man had been through enough as it was.

Hannah had come to the foyer with a plate of food, Rohtmane wolf stew with some bread. It wasn't much but it is what kept many of those here fed and content. She was accompanied by another woman who had some clean shirts and trousers for him to change into. We will have none of that darlin, you are our guest and we can spare a fellow zaicheari food and a place to lay his head and wash his arse. Now eat up, and afterward, we'll get you washed and warm. she ordered a motherly tone with her words but with a compassionate and nurturing expression on her face.

"Thank you Hannah." he said, eyeing the bandages on her left hand. They weren't there earlier when she was assisting him in healing that man of his infection. He wondered how she got that wound, but she noticed he had seen it, she quickly waved it off as if it was not of his concern. She bowed to them both and went back to her duties, as did those within the foyer. Many were assessing the repairs needed for the manor itself. Dreyfus turned his eyes to the large portrait of his mother at the top of the grand staircase, before ascending and gesturing for the man to join him.

"You said you ran a shop before everything went to shit. I'm sorry you lost your livelihood. I'm curious to know the type of business you ran. I am also curious about your year's travel." he inquired, if only gently. For a moment he allowed the man to gather himself if he was still struggling with everything, but once he felt it was ok he continued. Looking up through a hole in the ceiling he could see where the rift in the sky used to be.

"I traveled too ya know, after the rift tore Zaichaer apart. I traveled into the Aetherium itself, spoke to Dragon gods, and traveled to Ecith and the lands around there. All to return home, to help rebuild. That's when I found these people. They would have died had I not stepped in. The trade-off for this accursed affliction I bear is that it grants me power, power to make a change, to ensure no one suffers under the ideals of close-minded fools." his eyes grew brighter from the somber glow they held.

He realized his emotions were rising and stilled them. Turning, he continued up the stairs. "Come I have a working bath in my chambers that you can use after you eat, as the communal ones are full at the moment." he added. ⚔


"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

Startled, Klein accepted the clothes from the woman. He held them carefully as if worried his hands would dirty them. As soon as he heard the woman's name, he echoed Master Monteliyet's words.

"Thank you, Hannah."

His cheeks were a touch flushed at the intimate, motherly way she spoke to him, but of course, all those creature comforts sounded amazing. His eyes caught her waving off the injury, and while he would have offered what simple aid he could, she didn't seem to need it. He watched her go, and then, almost reluctantly, brought his gaze back to the master of the house. It was more that he wasn't certain how to avoid staring, or reacting as per his upbringing. Close-minded, Monteliyet called them.

"Ja, he confirmed. "Sold a little bit of everything. Jack-of-all-trades." The wear and tear on his boots proved he had been doing some walking, and a brow rose curiously when Monteliyet spoke of travel too. "Oh?"

Then he tried not to let the horror creep onto his face. The Rift. The Aetherium. The cursed Gods of old. The savage continent where Orkhan anarchists ruled.

"That was... ah... brave of you, sir. And... good of you to come back and help the people."

As for his affliction, Klein didn't know what to think. Perhaps one of those demonic god's minions had possessed him. Perhaps he had been sacrificed to the green gods of Ecith, and his body and soul had been changed.

"I heard the High City is safe again," he offered, a bit of news in exchange for the hospitality - and for hopefully not chaining him to some demonic force. "That's where I'm headed. Seen airships through the trees. If they have reclaimed the city, things can go back to normal again." They might not accept Monteliyet given whatever curse he was under, or perhaps they might help rid him of it. The Order was terrifying, but they were the ones who stood between the people and the darkness.

"Oh, I, ah..." But he couldn't exactly decline, so he laid the clothes carefully over his cleanest arm, picked up the bowl of stew that set his stomach to growling like a wolf, and followed the strange man up the stairs. "Thank you kindly, sir."

⚔ "Yes, the city is indeed cleansed of demons and abominations, but it is far from safe as is. Anarchists and bandits have rooted themselves within the city's walls and even some of the estates along the way. The airships are from the Sky Islands, though the massive one in the middle of the city is of Imperial origins. I believe they are simply biding their time, waiting for us to regain some form of leadership and influence it in their favor, if they haven't already." he rebutted, a look of curiosity and concern on his face as he spoke those words, before waving the thought away and moving up the steps again.

Escorting the young man into his private quarters he motioned for the man to have a seat. From there he went into the bathroom and began preparing a bath for him. As the water ran into the porcelain tub he figured he would still try and pick his brain while the man finished his meal. "You'll have to forgive me for asking, but were you traveling alone by chance, or did you happen to be separated from others? How long have you been wandering out there? Where in the city when everything went belly up?"

He was trying to drown out the sound of the water with idle conversation, finding this often helped with those who were still a bit rattled and shaken from the ordeal of what would be considered a dangerous region. He knew this man was fragile but he was easing up a little. Dreyfus could honestly learn everything he wanted by a single drop of blood, but judging by his reaction from earlier requesting another blood to learn of their ordeals before arriving would be...... ill-advised. ⚔


"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

"Oh, the Imperial ship," he replied quickly, eager to offer news in exchange for what he was being given, "that one is gone now. It hovered for a season or two. Offering aid. Studying the rift. Probably trying to flex their might and reach for any Zaechaeri powers that remained. "But more and more of the ZADC ships came back and I suppose they... made their point." Then, perhaps worrying the generous man would be offended, as if he were correcting him, "That is, well, they haven't been there the last several times I've been to the city, sir. You might have been there recently. Or they might be lurking and waiting for their chance."

Klein partook of the stew as soon as he was parked in the fine quarters. He hoped he wouldn't have to sleep in there, though; too fine for him. Oh, but it looked lived in. He blinked, paused, and then began to chew slowly again as he ruminated literally and figuratively.

The strange, rich man was drawing him a bath personally. He didn't know if trying times called for this sort of hospitality or what. He swallowed before answering; he had basic manners, at least.

"Oh, ah... I was alone. I have traveled with people on and off, but groups have been difficult. Some want to stay... and stay too close and get et by mutants... can't make it to one of the overcrowded military shelters. Others want to leave... and risk the wilds between here and Haqs or... perhaps one of the riverland forts. Me, I wanted to keep a safe distance, but... I wanted to be there. Not give up, you know? I was..." He paused, looked furtive. But then, if the man was a blood mage, he wasn't likely to turn Klein in for having been to the Market. There were mages with licenses, after all. "I was in the Market when it happened. So, fairly certain it wasn't the covens as did it. But, ah... got out fairly quickly. Followed the witches as best I could, figured they would have ways and means of getting to safety that I wouldn't. Came back looking for people, for things, to see what was gone and what still remained. Went through Schiller once when I was wounded. But didn't like huddling there useless behind walls. So... wandering since the day it happened, I suppose you could say."

Klein went back to eating his stew, albeit a bit more slowly now that there was some food in his gut already.