• Graded • Date at the Museum

[Noth]

Saun 2, 717

It was starting to get hot. The rather rapidly increasing temperature had forced the twilight hybrid to reside more within his home than in the outlying forest, and he became incredibly comforted by the fact that the underground dwelling provided a stable temperature. Outside, the heat could have been absolutely sweltering, enough to give heatstroke to even the wild beasts of the field, but inside, he was still sitting comfortably. The most reasonable course of action seemed to be to wait inside for the heat to die down, but Noth actually had something rather important that he needed to take care of for the trial.

It was still very early in the morning, sunlight having only just begun to break through the dark clouds which hung overhead, casting the faint prediction of rain with their presence. Quickly, the hybrid retrieved the feathery quill which he used to draft all of his letters, and the cheap black ink that he had begun to use in earnest ever since receiving the complaints from Paplo Ynush for his rather unorthodox ink choice.

The letter itself was drafted in mere moments, simply a few lines of instruction, but they were crafted with utmost diligence by the hybrid, special assurance being taken so that they were clearly presentable. Once it had been completed, he simply walked towards the back of his cave, passing by the occasional smoldering torch as he continued along the memorized pathway towards Marrow’s dwelling. He paid special attention not to accidentally tread upon one of the undead abominations that might have been hanging around the lair, even though he had been told before that they would not harm him for it.

With a silent step, the hybrid placed the written letter upon the slowly breathing chest of his companion, and then exited the room, retracing his steps towards the front of the cave. He recalled the note’s writing, committing it to memory lest some step be questioned in the midst of the operation.

“Marrow,
Today I will be bringing someone to your museum after it closes. Please ensure that it is empty. Before you leave the cave, take notice of the series of vials that I have placed near the exit upon the rock where I normally eat. The vials upon the sides contain only water, but the center vial contains a calming drug of some manner. I will be bringing you something to examine at the museum. When it is brought to you, claim that it holds hostile magical properties, and that anyone who has had contact with it must consume a protective potion. Ensure that the center vial is given to the girl.”

That piece of the operation had been finished, and now he simply needed to meet dear Nightshade at the requested location. The meeting had been determined at the end of their prior one, and the hybrid had determined a course of action at the time that he was certain would please her. Sadly, the idea required some preliminary planning, which, in essence, this trip to the museum embodied. Nonetheless, the idea of spending more time with her made his heart thud rather uncomfortably, and he set about into the woods, leaving behind his implements of war for perhaps the first time in seasons. Before he departed, however, he retrieved a rather sword-like sheathe from its place within a hidden tunnel in the cave, and wrapped it around his side.

The meadow where he arrived was a rather beautiful place, with the gentle trickling of a nearby creek, and the presence of blooming wildflowers scattered about the place. He was incredibly early, however, and the heat was still rather unbearable, and so he spent a majority of the morning simply sitting underneath a large oaken tree, allowing its shadow to cool him off from the blazing sauna.

The singing of precious birds, the trickling of the creek, and the rustle of the flowers were more than enough to soothe his rather shot nerves, and he quickly began to drift off to sleep, awaiting the arrival of his date.

[Nightshade Eld]

Compared to the ease of Noth's morning, Nightshade had made quite a trial out of the trial. Just the trial before she'd gotten into a skirmish. Of course, that was nothing new for Night of all people, but she hadn't really expected a fight of the caliber that she got. Even after splitting the group up as much as she could, it didn't change the fact she'd gotten into something a brawl with seven high-class bandits, each one looking for a pair of wings to put up above their fire places. The rewards, sweet as they were, were far from enough to make up for the hardship she'd undergone. Waking up the next morning she still smelled damn, the moldy scents of the cave clinging to her flesh and her clothes. As luck would have it though, she'd woken early enough to undertake the task of fixing such a problem as the pair weren't supposed to meet up until late into the trial. At first, she'd only planned to try and wash herself off and throw on her second set of clothes. That plan quickly died before it even began as she discovered that her second pair was in dire need of some soapy attention just as much as the first. A draw back of only having two proper sets of clothes.

Part of her had caught the error of such musings rather early on. Did Noth even have one good set of clothes? Furthermore, it was Noth, since when had he ever been the type to judge? At least, judge his fellow half-breed, that was. But there was something about the nature of the meeting that made Nightshade anxious at a deep and central level, far down in the pits of her stomach. It was an uncomfortable and fairly unfamiliar sensation if not entirely. As such her morning had started off heading to Etzos first thing and looking for any clothing shops that were open early enough for her to grab something simple.

The heat, much like the cold, had never bother Nightshade. The Master had subjected her to all manners of extremes to the point they didn't really bother her even if they bothered her body. There was a sort of mental gap where something got lost in translation. At times she'd found it to be rather dangerous as it led to her not realizing when she was pushing her limits. And at others, like the present, it helped to keep her mind on target and off minor annoyances like the weather. Even if minor was actually rather deadly. There was a large difference between not noticing temperature and not actually being affected by the temperature. Unfortunately, Night only had the first.

As luck would have it she made her way to her destination without any serious bodily harm, at least nothing that hadn't been there the day before. She was still having trouble keeping the slight limp out of her gait. When she pushed open the clothing store she was met by waves of fabric, some looking far more expensive than others. For a second she had been lost in a sea of the unknown as the person behind the counter blathered on about what she should buy, seemingly unbothered by the fact she was half avriel. Apparently to this shop keep it didn't matter as long as she had the coin. "Just give me whatever," the half-breed had muttered in her confusion.

"Then you should certainly buy this lovely silk dress-" the woman behind the counter started but was quickly cut off.

"Anything besides a dress," Night said with a shake of her head. She wouldn't be able to handle that, not yet anyway.

"Alright then, fine. I can give you a skirt and blouse. Judging by your rattiness you might want to buy some new undergarments too. I would off you silk, but that would be 190 silver nels in total. In case you're too much of a street rat to know that, it would convert to 19 golden nels. Which, I'm certain is far too much for a dirty little-" again Nightshade cut the woman off. She didn't realize not wanting to buy a dress could hit such a nerve, but a silk skirt and blouse was certainly a lot less money than a dress would have been. Night already knew the conversions, she would have been looking at 50 gold for the dress alone. How she cut off the woman was where the situation had turned interesting. Without even batting an eye the half avriel had pulled out a large sack. Setting it on the counter she opened it up with a jingling thunk. Carefully she pulled it open, revealing a plethora of golden nels. Carefully, one by one, she pulled out 19 and set them on the counter. The woman's jaw hit the floor long before Night had gotten past two.

"I believe that's enough, but if you don't trust a filthy rich street rat like me, you could always recount," she half-breed had said with a smile. Though it was sweet, there was something in the back of her eyes that glittered in a similar fashion to how they did when she defeated a large group of raiders. The woman behind the counter, after picking her jaw up off the floor, proceeded to recount the coins and then check if they were actually real. After that was done with she handed over the clothes, begrudgingly, to Night. The woman was careful with the beautiful silken cloths as they were of the purest white color and seemingly easy to stain. Of course, having lived with the Master this wasn't something she hadn't dealt with before.

After retrieving new clothes she had gone down to a stream near her home to thoroughly scrub the filth from herself as best she could. She didn't have it in mind at the time to buy anything like soaps or perfumes to aid in the process, but at least she had the foresight to bring Storm and have him stand guard. As it would happen it was nearly meeting time when she finished up rubbing her skin nearly raw and then checking over the wounds she'd received the day prior to making sure none of them had gotten infected. When she was satisfied she slipped on the clothing, finally coming to think silk might have been a touch over the top even if it was still in her price range, and heading in the direction of their meeting spot. Storm played escort for a short time before heading back home on his home, hoping the cave would let him and his fury coat escape the heat. The one thing that seemed even somewhat similar to her usual attire was that both Redbrand and Love Struck were looped into her belt. She lacked the cloak that was usually common place, the dark themes of her clothing being completely thrown out the window by the almost jarring white, her wings curled gently around herself, but mostly that was for the part of hiding away the glowing band around her arm that was one of her marks. The shield on her right hand could easily be played off as a tattoo for the unwise or hidden for a band of cloth.

Her eyes lit up when she finally came upon the meeting place, only to discover moments later Noth. The male half avriel was still fast asleep in the spot he had decided to take his nap, though thanks to the sun moving direction his shade had abandoned him. How long ago, none could really say.

She strode over easily enough, her feet moving in light bounds. "You know, if you aren't careful you'll get dehydrated sleeping in the sun like that," she said in a sing song voice as she peered down at him. Long, dark waves of hair that easily went down to her hips by now fell from their place and outlined her face as she looked at him. Each ebony lock seemed to dance and shimmer with the sunlight. Her eyes similarly were the deepest blue they'd ever been, having the sunlight to thank for that. They glittered like two sapphires, cut by a master jeweler. Her lips were pulled up gently into a fond smile. No matter how you argued it, Noth didn't deserve this.

[Neronin]

The museum had been busy that day. Neronin had spent a considerable effort in shepherding the patrons from her halls before he could settle into his cleaning routine. Head Curator Tabard had once again left for some social event. They were a good pair, really. Tabard needing someone to stay and care for the museum while he attended all manner of party and gathering, and Neronin being disinterested in both. Neronin had been worried that the Curator would grow suspicious of him today because the mage had hardly been able to contain his foul mood.

For one thing, the stifling heat of the trial was subdued to a low, heavy stuffiness. It had made everyone sleepy with discomfort. That meant that the few imbeciles who did attend the museum weren’t even paying attention as Neronin took time out of his trial to guide them. Hem loathed wasting time on those too idiotic to be worthy of it.

For another thing, the letter. Mongrel was coming to the museum today. He had referenced some female in his letter, indicating he was bringing another along and they would expect entry after hours. Neronin knew that there was no opportunity to dissuade the monstrous bird-man now without shirking his duties. So he waited in a foul mood for the couple to appear at the gates, sweating in his musty hell in the meantime.

The museum hadn’t changed exhibits in a season and Neronin had flown through the cleaning and inspecting that came with closing it down. He enjoyed this hour of his work most, when everyone had left and he alone walked the halls. The quiet was peaceful. The sound of his footfalls were the only disruption of silence. But not for long.

Neronin decided to wait for Mongrel by the main doors, bringing one of the museum ledgers with him to do a little extra work while he waited. He laid the brass candle dish on the marble floor and sat down next to it with his back to the inside of the doors. The small candle sent an orange light dancing across the empty main hall of the museum. Neronin opened the ledger and began to etch notes, running through each column and making sure it was all in order. Since there had been no change in the exhibits in a long while he was simply reaffirming each artifacts location on the floor for accountability’s sake, but it meant he wouldn’t have to do it the next day.

Neronin let the scratching of his quill and the turning of parchment sooth his mood. He ran through the ledger with a particular hand, almost forgetting that Mongrel was coming.

Made by Kovic

[Noth]

It is said that someone’s true inner person can be seen when they are drunk. Something about the intoxicating qualities of alcohol simply removed any inhibitions that might have prevented them from performing some act or activity, and it was common practice to loosen someone’s lips with alcohol in order to gather information, or to convince them into some manner of arrangement. Without the mental restrictions that they consciously planted upon themselves, any and every thought that came to mind, any action, and any word spoken was entirely them.

There were no lies.

Perhaps something similar could be said of awakening from sleep. The hybrid went from being relatively comfortable, of resting pleasantly among the flowers of the field, to immediately shooting upwards to his feet, his voice already emanating a lazily constructed growl which still managed some semblance of ferocity despite his disheveled appearance. Still, despite the apparent attempt at intimidation, there was a very clear instance wherein fear touched his facial features, an emotion which he kept hidden underneath layers of feather and façade. For the briefest moment before his inhibitions regained their control over his body, and his conscious thoughts reformed to appreciate the sight before him, he was a wild animal, and a frightened one at that.

The growl died immediately in his throat, and he coughed rather pathetically into his hand in a vain attempt at hiding the sudden release of emotion. The fear disappeared a moment later, replaced with a look of satisfaction and pleasure at seeing his beloved paramour. He yawned, blinking away sleep from his crimson eyes as he gradually retook control of his body from the jaws of sleep. She spoke, mentioning the potential of suffering from dehydration out in the sun, and Noth became acutely aware of the liquid sweat dripping down his skin underneath his feathery coat. Thankfully, she couldn’t actually see that, but he felt immediately outclassed.

“Indeed. It appears I must have dozed off. How good that you find me, or I might have expired in this dreadful heat.” He chuckled gently, kinder eyes analyzing the appearance of the woman before him with appreciative glances and a quick smile.

He approached her slowly, making certain that his hands were entirely visible so as not to give her any reason to become frightened; a quality he had inherited after dealing with primitive men and beasts.

“You look beautiful in those clothes. Though, you were beautiful out of them too, so I suppose nothing has changed.” He spoke, reaching out a lone twilight hand in an attempt at grasping her own in greeting. He avoided getting too close to her, because he wasn’t entirely certain where they were now in their relationship, and the idea of having won her back only to somehow frustrate her by moving too quickly with some pitiable things as hand-holding was anathema to him.

“I do hope you haven’t been waiting long… I had just lied down to take a short rest before we departed.” He smiled once more at her, spinning about to face the direction of their ultimate destination. “I was hoping you might accompany me to the museum in Etzos, actually. I recently ran across an intriguing artifact I wanted them to observe… and I presumed that I might trade it in for some quality time together amidst the halls.” He paused, suddenly seeming very nervous, as though he were just a young schoolboy, and not a serial killer. “I hope that’s okay. I realize you might not like looking at things such as that all that much…” His voice fell slightly in disappointment at the prospect.

“Anyways, here, have a look at this.” He uttered, retrieving the sword-sheathe from his side, and displaying it to her. It seemed incredibly old, and the hilt of a sword jutted readily from within. Upon it was the clear and brazen symbol of Raskalarn’s Empire, a strange oddity given the local nature of the items. “I’m uncertain as to how it came to be… or whether it even has.”

Crimson eyes stared into her own for a few moments, offering her the hilt if she wished to view it more fully, and then promptly retrieving it when she had finished. He would then finish by offering her his hand, and a final request, spoken with more compassion than one might have thought the twilight Avriel capable of,

“Are you ready, Lady Blackbird?”

[Nightshade Eld]

Nightshade watched Noth's reaction quietly, remaining silent as he flew into a flurry of panic and various other emotions that she couldn't quite pin. Part her wanted to laugh and brush it off, finding amusement in the reaction. Had she been any other person in the world, she might have fancied it a bit threatening. But this was Noth and she was Nightshade, fear didn't necessarily translate. Another part of her became cross with worry. Such a reaction wasn't for normal people. Even her reactions after being woken up were a bit tamer, and she was quite literally trained to react to any potentially dangerous situation in a violent manner. Noth's reaction was something different entirely. The fear rolled off of him in waves, his eyes wide as saucers and his face curled into a false power mask. It was sad, worrying, and angering all at the same time. She wanted to try and comfort him, ease his fears, but she worried that could just as easily make the situation worse. Instead, she chose her third and final option, just staying quiet and waiting for Noth to calm down. She tried to keep her face impartial to the situation, doing her best to hide both the amusement and the worry.

She gave a laugh of her own upon Noth's first comment. "Dreadful indeed," she giggled. "There's no denying, the heat isn't good for those with fur or feather." She tried to put any sense of worry out of her voice. If she sounded worried then it might worry Noth or cause some other unintentional and undesirable effect. Her smile, however, died when she felt Noth's gaze taking in the full extent of her appearance. Her body language, which had once been relaxed and friendly, completely shifted. One of her arms grabbed the other, wrapping around her chest slightly. Her legs pulled together in a tight stance that was almost militant when her normal straight backed posture was taken into account. Except, now she found herself slouching slightly and dipping her head as if trying to hide herself from his gaze. A rose coloration attacked her cheeks without remorse or consideration. It took all her effort not to wrap her wings around her body and completely hide herself.

"I had a little... run in the other day and nothing I had was clean. So I just figured..." she stumbled over her words as she tried to explain her actions. "I just didn't want to come looking like trash and I bought the first thing that I saw," she said in a sudden quickness of words. The blush on her cheeks became even more evident. They were only small compliments, barely anything to bat an eye at, but already Noth had managed to reduce the powerful warrior to a blushing damsel. Of course, not everyone had such a capability. A lot of it came from the fact it was Noth. Her guard wasn't necessarily up around him. She knew how dangerous that was, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man standing before her was dangerous. And yet, she couldn't find it in herself to be wary of him. Even after everything he'd done. At least, she couldn't be cautious of him yet.

Her eyes flicked downwards, turning to the hand he had extended. Did he want to hold hands or shake hands? She wasn't sure, so she went with the one she wanted to do more. Quietly she reached out her own hand, parallel to his, and grabbed. She didn't let go for a while. Averting her gaze to any direction but that of Noth's, her cheeks astoundingly became ever brighter. Her grip tightened around his hand, but not to an uncomfortable level. In her head, she was chastising herself. She was acting like a child with a bad case of puppy love! She was blessed by Ethelynda for goodness sake, she had to get ahold of herself! But her heart was beating so furiously in her chest and all her thoughts turned vague and fuzzy. Why wouldn't it be quiet already? When did this even happen? She couldn't remember. After their last meeting? Was it like this before? Was it always like this and only thanks to their proximity now she was noticing? It didn't matter, she looked like a little girl trying to deal with love for the first time.

The idea of the museum was brought up and her interest was instantly piqued. "I would love to go," she said. There was a bashful smile on her face as she tilted her head back upwards, but her eyes glittered with an unbridled excitement. She watched as Noth retrieved the sword hilt and showed it off to her. She gazed at it carefully, but she didn't dare to touch the artifact. There was curiosity in her eyes, but there was also a good deal of caution. "It's best not to touch a sword that isn't yours," she said as she kept her hands far from the hilt of the blade. "It's a long story, but it's only wise to touch the blades of the fallen if you've taken them or are honoring their life." There was a good degree of worry that also flared up in her orbs. "But, you can just ignore that. Years of superstition instilled in me by various warriors talking," she said. She tried to laugh it off but the laughter sounded forced.

Upon his final request, she felt her heart practically quiver. Her knees felt kind of weak and she was a little light in the head. There was something in the gentleness of Noth's tone that struck a deep and resounding chord that left her with shivers. "Yeah," was the only response she had the strength to muster. In accompaniment, she gave a weak nod. As the two started off she offered her arm. It was customary for a gentleman to take the arm of a lady and escort her on outings, especially in familial, political, and romantic endeavors. Obviously, this wasn't the first two.

The two walked in silence for ways, Noth apparently not deciding to say anything and Night not having the courage or the mental fortitude to speak. Her thoughts were a complete mess of jumbled sentences that she could have said and could have royally screwed up. Perhaps, it was wisest she try to speak as little as possible for the time being? Her legs still felt like jelly, she was barely keeping herself from shaking. Thank Ethelynda she wasn't, she didn't know what Noth would think of her if she'd begun to!

As they came upon the giant looming figure of the museum the half-breed shifted her focus as to calm her nerves. A museum was a quiet place of knowledge and history, something that she greatly appreciated considering her fondness for a certain immortal. It was peaceful, serene, and since it was after hours it wouldn't have anyone else around. Which meant it would be easier for Night to keep her wits about her. At their approach, Nightshade noticed a figure lying on the ground. "Is that your friend?" She whispered in a hushed tone, quiet enough that Neronin wouldn't be able to hear her question.

[Neronin]

Neronin had finished his work long ago, placing the ledger back inside his office and moving outside the museum to stand outside the gates. The tower’s hall in which the museum was housed was less ornate than those inside the museum, but Neronin didn’t mind sitting on the stones. He pushed himself up when he saw the pair approaching and folded his arms across his chest, his long black robes billowing slightly in the draft.

“So, you came.” Neronin said as they approached. His eyes flickered briefly over the female, then back onto Noth. His face betrayed no emotion but a vague sense of dislike. The curator glanced behind the way they came. “You weren’t followed? Even with your,” His eyes flew to their wings “unique traits.” He finished with a cocked eyebrow.

“You keep interesting company.” Neronin said to Nightshade, with a nod at Noth. He turned and unlocked the large doors to the museum. He had left the lanterns in the main hall lit and they cast bright orange smears across the black marble. Neronin stepped aside to let the pair inside and closed and locked the gate. Much of the first floor of the museum was devoted to the highly censored history of Etzos. All her might and victory, and none of the darker side.

Neronin wasn’t sure why Noth had brought the woman here. He had never pegged the dark warrior for being a particularly romantic man, nor had he seemed inclined to view Etzos in a favorable light. Deep in the confines of the tower, in the heart of Etzos government as they were, that was the only light in which the city was viewed. Judging by the letter Noth had left him, Neronin figured the man had a more nefarious reason behind the visit. All he had to do was wait and see it unfold.

“So, what can I interest you two in today.” Neronin said as he lead the way down the great main hall of the museum. Their footsteps echoed moreso than during the day because of the complete emptiness of the place at such an hour. Neronin folded his hands into his sleeves and turned his head slightly to look back at them. “Forgive me, Noth, but I had no idea you enjoyed such pursuits as history and art. Your note caught me by surprise.”

Neronin’s eyes then fell on the female next to the half-avriel. “Perhaps this was your idea?” He mused aloud to her. They had reached the staircase upward and the entrances to the main first floor exhibits and he turned to face them. “As a matter of fact, I think it would be interesting to hear in which capacity the two of you maintain a… relationship.” His eyes seemed to light up with curiosity. “Ah, nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Neronin eyed Noth. He didn’t want anyone snooping into his own personal life, and meant to refrain from doing so to others.

But Noth with a woman, and a woman who was far superior to him in looks, seemed an odd occurrence he had trouble dismissing. To change the subject Neronin listed the exhibits on each floor and waited for them to decide what they wanted to see

Made by Kovic

[Noth]

Noth knew that Nightshade was a particularly deadly warrior. He knew that she went out and hunted down bandits and criminals, and that she occasionally pursued bounties on violent persons. He had heard about her backstory, about how she had been abused at the hands of a terrible man she barely knew, about how her father had probably died in an attempt at rescuing her. Knowing such things about Nightshade, he had expected her to be more callous, made of a harder material, and maybe she was, maybe she wore a suit of armor around herself. When she giggled, however, and began to curl her wings around herself ever so slightly in clear nervousness, Noth knew that if she wore any armor at all, he was able to phase through it.

The hybrid strode with a confidence that felt terribly false. The way that his own heart thudded within his chest, pounding in his ears with each step made him question whether or not she had somehow managed to stab through his own armor too.

And maybe that was okay. He trusted her not to stab him in the back like he had done in times past. She was a better person than he was, and that made it all the easier to trust her.

She explained why she had purchased her new outfit, and the twilight hybrid found himself once more appraising it. It seemed far more valuable than anything he would have ever been able to purchase, and there was a smile which gently tugged on his lips at the thought of her dressed in the finest things of the land. One trial, he would be able to provide that for her, but not quite yet. “You could have come dressed in tatters, and that would change nothing.” He cooed to her, offering her a smile for her explanation.

Originally, Noth had planned only to shake Nightshade’s hand as a form of greeting, but then she latched onto it, and he felt her squeeze down upon it, and immediately he knew that he didn’t really want the feeling of her skin on his own to vanish. Thankfully, she had apparently come to the same conclusion, and he tightened his own grip inside of her hand, allowing another grin to spread across his face. He could still feel his heart beating in his chest, and he sincerely wondered whether or not she’d be able to feel his pulse from the intensity of blood rushing through his veins.

There was a feeling of warmth that crept through her fingers and heated his own, and he felt himself gradually lose any inhibitions he had had around Nightshade, allowing any worries and anxieties to float to the wind above, swept away by the breeze. In that moment, he wasn’t the Prince of Eternal Mercies, or the leader of Al’Angyryl. He wasn’t a killer, or a hunter, or a monster who delighted in flaunting his terrible visage. He was just Noth, and he was happy to be spending time with the only girl he’d ever met who was like him. There was a sudden rush of tranquility that flushed through his mind, and he felt calmed for the first time in a long while.

She discussed with him her beliefs on the nature of taking swords from bodies, and he found himself suddenly intrigued by it. What she said seemed ridiculous, when he thought about it, but whilst she spoke of the subject, he couldn’t help but find himself gradually convinced that it must be pertinent. Admittedly, he had taken swords from plenty of dead bodies in the past, along with trinkets, and lockets, and gold, and nothing malignant had befallen him, so it seemed unlikely that anything terrible would happen now. It was rather discomforting that she had chosen not to touch the blade, and the twilight hybrid knew immediately that he would have to inform Marrow of the slight change in plans, though it would be terribly difficult to conduct such a transfer of information in a manner befitting their subterfuge without accidentally telling Nightshade of it as well. It was absolutely vital for his future plans with her that she drank from the vial.

His worries were vanquished once more as she agreed to accompany him to the museum, and promptly offered her hand. Though the hybrid was fairly unfamiliar with romantic accoutrements, he was aware of the way that couples were supposed to walk, as he had seen it as a child countless times whilst exploring the Etzori streets. Displaying an unusual level of warmth and compassion, the twilight hybrid wrapped his arm around Nightshade’s own, allowing his hand to sidle down near hers and grasp it once.

As they walked, he became acutely aware of the shield which had been etched into Nightshade, and he twisted his head in curiosity as he examined it. He shifted his fingers from her own, and gently began to trace the outline of it with his index finger. “What a fitting design.” He uttered, finishing his tracing of it. “I don’t quite remember it. Where did you get it?”

Crimson eyes glanced between other figures which strode the Etzori streets, and he felt himself unconsciously press closer to Nightshade, as if though he were using her as an anchor, and in a way, he was. If he had simply decided to walk the streets alone, there was a fair chance that he might have been bothered, but with his paramour at his side, it seemed as though he was safe from the mistrusting eyes of the public. Slowly, he outstretched his right wing, allowing it to curl around his companion’s form, and rest easily against her own. It was a way of showing affection, certainly, but in a more primal manner, it was also his way of claiming her, of stating to the remainder of the world and anyone who saw them that she belonged with him.

His

The museum seemed to be a far larger building than the hybrid had expected, and the black marble columns reflected its opulence in full. He might have missed the presence of Marrow laying upon the ground were it not for the question from his beloved, and crimson eyes immediately flickered to him, examining him to ensure that he was unwounded and unhurt. Perhaps it seemed strange that the violent and terrible monster would analyze the health of his employees before anything else, but a dead person could hardly perform much work… except perhaps in Marrow’s unique case.

“I wouldn’t say that we are ‘friends’.” He whispered back as they neared the museum.

Noth hadn’t been terribly specific in his instructions for how Ron was supposed to react when he sighted them, and so it came as a genuine surprise when he chose to question whether they were followed. The twilight hybrid raised a single eye, and cast a ‘wary’ glance behind himself.
“No, we were not followed. I don’t believe anyone knows I have it.” He spoke, returning his attention to Marrow.

The necromancer allowed them entry into the museum, and Noth stared down the black marble hallways, gazing at the assorted exhibits visible from the entryway. Without the usual bustle of people searching through the history of the city, the place felt far more akin to a crypt than a museum. Marrow had apparently decided that pretending to not know one another was off the table, and he spoke of how surprised he had been to receive the hybrid’s note. Noth assumed that he was simply fabricating a mental note, and not referring to the one he had actually left, because Ron had been a loyal helper for quite some time now.

“I believe I mentioned in the note that I had come across something of particular interest to the museum, and… I suppose I recently found a reason to begin enjoying life more.” He answered, casting a sidelong glance towards Nightshade as he unraveled his arm from her own. Marrow questioned briefly the relationship held by the two half-breeds, and were it not so blatantly obvious, and had he not retracted his statement a moment earlier, Noth might have answered.

Though he wasn’t entirely certain what he would have called their relationship; allies with hand-holding benefits?

“I am rather unfamiliar with the subjects of the museum, but we will get to them in due time. First, if you will…” He spoke, removing the sword sheathe from his side and displaying it outwardly for the necromancer to observe. “I want you to tell me what you can gleam from this, because I’m fairly confident that it hasn’t been made yet.”

[Nightshade Eld]

Night watched the small flicker of intrigue followed by disbelief when she tried to explain the 'Swordsman's Law' as her father and Icarus once both described it to her, leading her to believe it was common knowledge if two people close to her knew of it. Of course, they had also called it an 'Honor Code' as well as a 'Knight's Law' so it was understandable that Noth didn't really know about it. She had already come to terms with the fact Noth didn't run the same circles as she did. "I didn't really expect you to understand anyway..." Her voice trailed off quietly with a sigh, there was a blatant disappointment in her voice but she quickly brushed over it, a smile returning to her features in a matter of moments. There was a couple moment of companionable silence before she felt Noth's hand free itself from her own and begin to trace a pattern on the back of her hand. Her heart almost dropped, she knew she should have bought gloves seasons ago, but it never became important. Most people weren't aware of what marks looked like, and the one they usually noticed was from Qylios! That she could usually pull off as being placed upon her without consent at the end of the battle at Tried's Tomb. She never had to say if she was happy with it or not, there was an unspoken agreement that the answer was no if you lived in Etzos and they would give her looks up pity. She didn't have to admit she was actually glad to have it.

Ethelynda's mark was a completely different story. The shield pattern which rested upon her right hand with a matter of pride, one that she'd fought tooth and nail to finally get. She held the ideas it represented close to her heart and dared anyone who disagreed with them to fight her. Usually, it was also far easier to hide. Except for now, when she needed to hide it the most. She had to end the conversation quickly and with a single sentence if she didn't want Noth to inquire further about it. She started out her sentence with a chipper disposition, a smile on her face, "I got it from a friend back last..." She allowed her voice to trail off, her eyes misting slightly. Her face screwed up into something more bitter and distasteful. "Back last Ashan," she said in a quiet hiss, trying to imply she was remembering how much she hated Noth back then. If such an angry response didn't scare the boy into dropping the topic, she honestly wasn't sure what would!

The two returned to silence, it was stiff for a couple moments but quickly became comfortable as her expression relaxed once more. They drew maybe one or two pairs of eyes, but those eyes quickly turned into either awed expressions or brushed the pair of entirely. Long ago the spite over Night's existence had faded from the minds of the Etzori, instead being replaced with awe or total aloofness. Even with Noth at her side, there didn't seem to be any malice directed at the pair, they walked through the streets of Etzos unhindered and made their way to the museum.

Curiosity seemed to spark in the half breed upon Noth's response to her question about 'Marrow'. She blinked a couple times, tilting her head and feigning confusion. In all honesty, she kind of already knew. As hard she could push to try and get Noth to behave, she knew he still wasn't a good person. He didn't hang out with good people either.

She watched the pair interact, quietly judging Noth's... she wasn't sure exactly what to call him. Her eyes ran across his appearance, trying to take in everything. She didn't like to judge people on appearance, but she also had the fact he was a... companion of Noth to go off of. The merging of the information she had about this man led her to distrust. She felt the nervous burning at the pit of her stomach which usually came with the fear of facing down an enemy. Yes, as long as this man was here she was on a battle field. He could do anything at any moment that would prove to be a danger to Night. Her trust of Noth had only just begun to make its return, and such trust most certainly did not apply to his 'companions'.

Nightshade wasn't exactly shocked when the man questioned the relationship between herself and Noth. She wasn't exactly sure of it herself. They certainly were a fitting and yet an odd pair at the same time. Night, by all means, was lawful good and Noth was anything but when it meant achieving his goals. Night was beautiful, even with the strangeness of her wings and legs she stood out among the average woman as something other than that. Her wings almost gave her the feel of something exotic, and she had a distinct lack of scars for how many fights she got into. The majority of them existed on her back and at the base of her wings, something obviously done by the Master. Noth, on the other hand, was ugly when putting it kindly. She had a feeling that anyone would ask what their relationship was should they run across the pair hand in hand, and Night wouldn't know how to answer. Which was why she was glad when Marrow retracted his statement.

She pulled herself out of her thoughts and went back to watching the pair as Noth pulled out the sword to show it off.

[Neronin]

The assistant curator’s eyebrows shot up at Noth’s words about enjoying life more. It was wildly out of character, from what he understood of the man. Neronin stood in a mild state of bemusement that was evident to everyone as he listened to Noth. As the half-avriel spoke, Neronin shot glances from him to the scabbard in his hand, then back to the female. She appeared to be some being like Noth, but with two wings. Neronin let his gaze appraise the woman with interest, his face betraying no emotion. She seemed human, or more-so than Noth, but with feathered feet. Her presence here at the meeting was still a mystery to Neronin. Was this a recruit for the organization? Did he often attempt to win the hearts of his marks?

Neronin’s attention was drawn back to Noth as he finished. “Not made yet? Of course it has been made.” Neronin frowned at Noth as if in pity. what was this nonsense about not being made yet? “Do you mean it is a contemporary scabbard? That would make it hardly worth much to the museum.” Neronin stepped forward and took the item from Noth. He brought it up close to his face and turned it over slowly. He had certainly seen many Rhakian arms and armor in his time at the museum. The image of the enemy was an important rhetoric in a place so frequented by the social elite of the Etzori military.

As Neronin peered at the scabbard before him his pale mouth thinned to a line in concentration. The necromancer shifted the item in nimble fingers. He ran his eyes over the stitching, the leather, the detail. He placed a picky finger inside the scabbard and felt the interior. Finally returning his gaze to Noth Neronin frowned. “Come with me then.” He said, his face had taken on a look of interest. Despite his lack of interest in the rhetoric of the museum, he could not help but maintain a level of professional pride in his ability to discern provenience after so long working under Tabard’s tutelage.

He lead them off of the main halls and through an exhibit of statues. Each stone figure was clad in armor and bore some description of military credentials from various stages in Etzori history. Neronin ignored them all as he walked. His muffle footfalls made a slight echo as they walked through the large rooms together. He said nothing until he reached a smaller adjoining chamber. It was filled with armor and weapons, but not Etzori.

“This is the exhibit of Imperial military wear.” Neronin explained as he held the scabbard carefully in both hands. He gestured to a glass case which housed swords and their scabbards. “As you can see here, the leather and stitch is the same as in Etzos. When I first saw this I thought it must be one of ours. We are the only ones in the region who use this cross pattern overly to their leather works.” Neronin showed Noth and then Nightshade with a pale finger, then gestured to the scabbards with identical stitching in the case.”

The necromancer turned and examined each of the dozen or so scabbards they had on display and nodded to himself. “However, see these circular imprints on the scabbards? These are Imperial Raskalarn designs indicating the Immortal and year of making. I do not recognize the yea imprinted on this scabbard.” Neronin said, handing back the scabbard to Noth. He folded his arms across his chest as if this was a personal slight. “What’s more, the scabbard is lined on the inside with oiled fur.” He looked significantly from one to the other. “Oh, right. You aren’t much for blades eh? Well it isn’t a common practice amongst the Imperials, but it is more west. Here, for instance. It protects the blade from sliding out of the scabbard, as well as cleaning it when it is drawn.” He finished, sighing and frowning down at the artifact.

“It’s very odd, isn’t it?” Neronin mused on, spurred by his own curiosity. “I mean, I would think it does not match any of the time periods we have on display, and we have most. And yet, it looks to be at least a few decades old.”

Neronin thought about how intrigued Tabard would be to see such a find. For a moment he thought about going to summon the Head Curator but thought better of it when he remembered he only knew about the scabbard because he had let the pair of half-avriel into the museum after hours. Neronin tapped at his chin and glanced from Noth to Nightshade again. “Where did you say you found this?” He was not accepting Noth’s outlandish claim that it was from the future.

[Noth]

The twilight hybrid was a rather perceptive person. Perception had managed to save his life when in situations when he otherwise would have been slain had he not paid attention, and that kind of positive reinforcement had encouraged even further perceptive powers on his part. It was for this reason that he took notice of the look of puzzlement which crossed his ally’s face, and made a mental note of the way his eyes analytically shot between the item which he grasped, and the woman at his side. For all of his talents at forming his face into an otherwise emotionless mask, Marrow had yet to master the technique of subtly observing someone, or perhaps it was simply that their relatively close relationship had cultivated a particular sense of his companion’s actions, or perhaps he simply did not mind that he was seen so blatantly watching, after all, it was not as if though he would be questioned over the subject.

Nevertheless, the curiosity displayed raised a similar emotion in the hybrid, and he found himself analyzing the pair of persons before him as well, admittedly attempting to be no more subtle than his necromantic ally in the matter. Crimson eyes glanced into his date’s eyes for a moment before flickering back over to the curator, observing him as a fascinating question of motive came to mind. It had occurred to him once before, though he had never acted upon the inquiry, but now he found himself faced with it again, and it seemed likely that it would need to be answered soon. The question was simple: What did they want, and it had been the basis of so many political deals, trade agreements, and military actions throughout history.

In honesty, he genuinely wasn’t sure what Marrow wanted out of the organization, though he knew he had joined in some small part for the protection and freedom of research that he had offered. The cave was by no means a luxury housing arrangement, but Noth had never stopped Ron’s work, nor even asked him to slow it or shift it in any way. Instead, he had encouraged the process, and occasionally even supplied dead corpses or alternative supplies for the sake of the man’s research, and in return he had graciously kept his own end of their dark bargain, creating monstrous abominations to act as foot-soldiers whenever they were required. Still, the hybrid could not recall a single conversation between the pair involving what the future would hold for Marrow, and whilst Noth fully intended to reward him for his services with whatever he asked, it seemed somewhat odd that he would not once inquire as to any potential prizes.

The murderous Avriel turned towards his date, smiling pleasantly at her as Marrow began to analyze the scabbard, questioning what he had meant by his statement. “Not quite contemporary.” He answered in response, nodding with a mischievous grin of his own to the necromancer. He had some sneaking suspicions as to the nature of the object, and its sudden appearance coincided well with the appearance of his own skull, an impossibility compounded by a secondary unlikely event. Technically, there was not inherent causality in the two, though there did seem to be some correlation between them, and that was enough for the hybrid to assume that the same event had led to both of their creations.

As Marrow considered the new trophy for the museum; for he fully intended to grant it them, Noth considered his own trophy, looking over her once more. She had been kind to him, and had granted him another chance at a relationship with her, but the same issue presided over that potential romantic partnership: He did not know what she wanted. Admittedly, the entire subject of romance was one that had been somewhat lost upon the hybrid due to a lack of experience, both in a technical and practical standpoint, but he could certainly understand the desire for companionship. However, he wasn’t sure at what cost she would place her companionship, and despite his obvious desire to be with her, he admitted to himself that there were still certain things in the world he wouldn’t sacrifice, certain thoughts that could never be simply cast away, even for the allure and attention of a lover. For example, if she ever discovered the true nature of Marrow’s power, and attempted to stop him, then he would not side with her on the basis of principle. Marrow had been loyal, and that loyalty would be rewarded in kind, no matter how it pained his heart.

His thoughts were shattered once more to the wind as the aforementioned necromancer asked if the pair would accompany him, apparently having caught onto a clue in his analysis of the scabbard. They passed by several statues covered in military garment and armament from the various ages of the city’s history, and eventually found themselves immersed in a small side-room displaying foreign equipment marked with familiar symbols. Their guide spoke, informing them that the room was set aside for imperial military wear, the lack of description in front of the term ‘imperial’ making it rather clear that he was referring to the Eternal Empire, the only one of its kind. He proceeded to teach them about the makeup of the leather scabbard, alerting them to the patterns of stitching, and whilst Noth could understand, he doubted he would be able to readily identify a scabbard if he were questioned after the tour; such information came only with time and experience. The necromancer concluded with a statement about his curiosity in regards to the apparent age of the scabbard, and the hybrid smiled under his feathered visage, understanding the confusion immediately.

Such things simply did not exist.

He was questioned on where he had found the item once again, and the hybrid considered his answer for a moment before responding,
“In a place deep belong the surface. I cannot remember much of the incident leading to its… finding, but I have several more pieces like it, as well as a full-set of armor currently entrapping a mummified Raskithecal.” He paused, biting his tongue for a moment before deciding to continue, “There were… other items of interest found below as well, but they would not be proper for a museum.” He concluded, smiling once more to his date and reaching his hand out to run it gently over her back in a sign of comfort, unconsciously attempting to ease the conversation’s rather serious arc into something more pleasant.

“If the museum were willing to orchestrate some manner of payment, I would be more than happy to deliver the other items. For your services, and to demonstrate the rarity of them, please consider that particular piece to be a gift.” He nodded towards the scabbard.