Ok. So, a sorceror and a thaumaturgist walk into a bar...

[Serion D'Rinishad]

Late Pontius, Winter of Era XV

Serion had not been in Zinn'Sunn for very long, and as such had not quite gotten the lay of the land. These kemites were funny people, seeing as most humans that Serion had dealt with were vagrans. Either way, he had heard that Zinn operated on a family based system similar to the vysstichi cities--though the humans called themselves clans more so than families it would seem.

All in all, the dark elf found the thought a bit amusing, and had decided to spend this particular day exploring the area with which he would work on his masterpiece. He walked with no true purpose in his steps, but the way he carried himself put off a glow of self confidence. If the fact that he was a vysstichi wasn't enough to make everyone turn glances in his direction, perhaps the extremely cleancut white leather garb that he so often wore would be enough--like bleach being pored onto a shirt full of vibrant colors, Serion probably stood out amongst the locals.

Strapped to his right side, the paladin still carried not one or two, but apparently three swords at his waist. Ever since his time with Graham, the swordsman had found himself relearning his abilities with a blade, and the events had led him to a rather interesting fighting style with his twin blades. The third sword, unlike the two ardentium ones, was simply made of wood, and to an non-arcanic eye, would seem kind of pointless to have. It was this third sword, however, that was perhaps the most dangerous, as it allowed the dark elf instant clarity from which to draw upon his arcane powers, and Serion had grown rather fond of some of the more devious uses of thaumaturgy.

In time Serion would have to start his search for a necromancer, as it would be the first step of his new spell, so as he walked he simply let his right hand rest on the handle of his Sword of Arcana, Light's Darkness. It was like this that he would scan the crowds as he meandered, looking for signs of necromantic essence, perhaps lingering on the clothing of said spellcasters. Of course, Serion found something more amusing than necromancers as he did this. Someone that the vysstichi thought he would not see for some time had decided to take a vacation in Zinn'Sunn as well.

Walking up with the same meandering gait as had brought him this far down the streets, Serion will pass the elf, tapping him on his right shoulder as he sidesteps to the mans left, hoping to cause the archmageSerion has no knowledge of Motito's demotion, so still refers to him as an Archmage a slight moment of confusion. Of course, knowing Motito, the ruse wouldn't last but for a scant second. "Well now, if it isn't Mr. Gil'dae. Are we here on pleasure or business this fine brightening." Smiling at the elf, Serion was curious if the man would even recognize him. It had been eras since he had been lost to the Illuxians in the Cold South, and he had no idea what Duncan had told others of the events. Either way, perhaps today could lead to a bit of fun after all.

[Motito Gil'dae]

Motito's current cover, Eresse Romen, was as arrogant and self-assured as they came. To Serion, who spied him, the man's taste was probably horribly gaudy. Ere was bedecked from head to toe. A large-brimmed purple velvet hat rest atop his head with a stylish peacock feather sticking out of it, to match the purple silk shirt that covered his chest. Atop that was a silver silk vest, belted in place by a silver leather belt which held his elven longknife at his waist and visible. That belt also served to hold up his black leather trousers, and black hard-soled traveling boots were perhaps the most modest item he wore. To add to the ridiculousness of his outfit, he had a black velvet cape to give him cover and warmth. Tito found the entire getup neigh-laughable, but he had to admit, it was by far among the most comfortable outfits he'd ever worn.*Weee~! Another copy-paste description!

A new or bad operative would abandon a cover when it was threatened. A good operative only played the roll harder. While Motito's combat reflexes would have defeated the immediate amusement purposes of the act, Ere wouldn't...and so he played up Ere. He turned the direction of the tap, his silvery brow furrowing, before completing the turn to see the dark elf looking at him and speaking.

"Excuse me?" he inquired, turning to face Serion. Oh yes, he knew this Vyssie. He still remembered the first time he'd laid eyes on him. He'd been sitting with Avanthar and a few hangers on, and Duncan and Ogrim has been present as well...though Duncan and he later left for a conversation wherein the dark figures at the tables in the Crown were discussed. Serion included. Duncan had mentioned skills with Necromancy and with his shortswords.

He even remembered discussing Serion with Faust at a dinner. Remembered their encounter in pursuing that Blavorion fellow. Even the fight at the Silver Drake. He'd never held much love for the dark elf, but that had been before the Medonian Elf had undergone a few...personality quirks. Odds were, while he might not trust Serion, he could probably get along with him.

"Excuse me?" he asked again, sounding impetuous and arrogant, his quicksilver gaze sliding up and down the frame of the dark paladin, "I'm afraid I don't know a Mister Gil'dae. You must have mistaken me for someone else...but I'm here on a bit of both pleasure and business. The name is Eresse Romen. Who are you and what can I do for you?" His eyes glimmered, showing acknowledgment of Serion, but hoped the dark elf would at least play along. If not, this would become a very difficult situation for the elven spy.

[Serion D'Rinishad]

Serion would of course furrow his own brow at the light elf as Motito speaks. It was not odd for men of power to conceal their identities, for both he and Duncan had done it many times in the past. Motito always seemed of a different breed of fellow though, from what little Serion had known of him. The fact that the elf's eyes glinted with recognition was not lost on Serion, so he knew that this was indeed the man he thought it, the question would be how to play off this little faux pas.

Smiling casually, Serion will bow slightly in the elf's direction. "A thousand apologies my good man. It seems the old adage all elves look alike might be true after all. The name is Serion D'Rinishad, Paladin of Natura. Mistaking you for an old friend I had not seen in some time I thought we might peruse the streets together."

A twinkle in the paladin's eye matched Motito's own, but Serion's was more full of mischief. "Of course I would not wish to trouble you. While I admire your taste for fashion, I'm sure you might grow bored of my search. You don't quite seem the type to enjoy getting your fingernails dirty digging through more dubious sectors of a city, Master Romen."

Serion was a master of lies, but it took every ounce of his indominatable will to keep from laughing at the man's clothes as he complimented the outfit. It had reminded him of a pimp in Riparia that had often tried to offer Serion one of his women after fights in the AFCL. Serion would of course let Motito decide whether or not he wanted to head off with him now or meet up later. It could be a bit odd for the two to speak while the sorcerer was pretending to be someone he wasn't.

"I am always looking for a partner in crime in the pleasure department however. Pehaps when you are done with your business here we can meet up. I am staying at the Ivory Tower, and it wouldn't be hard to track down a vysstichi in this particular city. Unless of course your business leads you in the same direction as me." It had been apparent that Motito was trying to get someone to try and make him a mark. His attitude, his dress, all leaned towards an easy score to an rogue of the underworld. Serion had spent many times working in that profession, and Motito's facade would have been an attractive hit.

He didn't quite know what the elf was up to, but he could probably be of some aid should Serion come across the crime organization in Zinn'Sunn. He would need to bring back a necromancer for his spell crafting, and a second pair of hands could be useful--especially hands that controlled the strings of Force.

[Motito Gil'dae]

...Old friend? Such a title was pretty laughable, all things considered, but the two had gotten along well enough at the time. Tito had undergone many changes since, and he could only wonder at what changes Serion himself had experienced. After all, rumor from Faust had been that Serion was dead. Tito knew full well, however, that death wasn't necessarily what it was cracked up to be. He'd 'died' himself once so far. And what was this about a paladin of Natura? That was news to him...perhaps useful news.

"Oh my thanks to you," Ere beamed at the compliment about his rather loud choice of dress as though he expected nothing less, something that Motito found outright hysterical. Motito himself had felt the outfit reminiscent of a pimp of some sort. Motito too had spent some brief time in the Prime Chapter of the AFCL, though unlike Serion, he'd never been approached by a pimp after his fights. He knew Serion was pulling him, and he knew just as well that Serion was playing along. That boded well, for the time being.

"While I despise getting my fingernails dirty, Sir D'Rinishad, the dubious sectors of the city do not frighten me...in fact, I came to speak with the...less publicized...portion of the population myself." Ere wouldn't reveal too much right off the bad, so Tito didn't. Not that he'd tell too much to the troublemaking Vysstichi anyway, if he could avoid doing so.

"Speaking of business, what brings you, a Paladin of Natura, to Zinn'Sunn, Sir D'Rinishad?" He began to move slowly, showing he was fine walking alongside the paladin. He'd like to avoid clandestine meetings if at all possible given that they were not only cliche but a giant red flag to anyone paying much attention, but if they couldn't discuss whatever it seemed Serion was interested in under the present circumstances, the former elflord was not against going to meet him somewhere private.

[Duncan Sythe]

Having dismounted inside the city to weave his way through it; guiding his horse by the reins, Duncan Sythe under the guise of Rezarm Taym was humming softly to himself under his breath and examining the state of things around him in yet another city that had survived a rebuilding and a revival. Dressed in a long foresters green cloak over an imperial military uniform it would not be an unfair guess that he drew a few glances and frowns, especially given the marks of rank on the uniform beneath for the nobles and middle class who knew such things.

He ignored them all however, his senses a-tingle with Meditation as was always the case and headed further in search of a tavern, a drink, a bed and some gossip. For once however, it was not to be the case that he had to arrange accommodation before fate found him something surprising or irritating.

Exactly what described the two figures he saw half-turned in his direction and deep in conversation was debatable. Chaos incarnate was actually a phrase that might be in the running...although each individual could do with a book of such to begin with; before starting with their combined potential.

It was Serion he noticed first though, Motito's identity obscured beneath layers of finery and a lack of weapons and general menace, half turned away from him. That was not to say upon closer inspection that identifying the Elf did not cause surprise...but for Duncan it was Serion that had the potential to be the more interesting enigma. Not that it was strictly true...but Duncan didn't know what Motito had been through since their last meeting.

Surprise was replaced with suspicion, consideration and cold thought as he also recognised the state of Motito's arcaic ability in his Vis. Where have you been? was the question springing to mind, replaced however with the more pressing concern of insinuating himself into the impromptu conversation; given that he looked like the last person either of them would want to talk to at this moment in time.

It was not a difficult dilemma however, even if the answer was somewhat unfair to the other two given its abuse of their lesser magical ability. It would give them both a minor heart attack and possibly cause a physical conflict if either reacted too violent. But even Duncan Sythe had a sense of humour. Had Motito's ability been what it was he would not even consider it, the potential of the street blowing up being too great. But that was not the case now and Duncan was, besides, probably one of the fastest Masters in existence when it came to simple illusions.

The man walking towards Serion and Motito was a tall Imperial soldier with a sharp nose and a proud jaw, hawkish green eyes picking them out from the crowd and identifying them as the target of his attentions. As he approached them he smoothly traded the hand he held the reins of his horse in from left to right.

The purpose of that, freeing of a sword arm, became clear a moment later as he glided closer, left hand coming down to flick the cloak aside and reveal the flat-pommelled Imperial blade at his hip, the right coming across to it slowly as he came within talking distance, eyes flicking suspiciously from Motito, to Serion and back, lingering on Serion's swords. His hand resting on that polished hilt

“Do I know you gentlemen?”

He asked coldly, eyes lingering on Motito in a manner that might make the man wonder if the Kestor before him had once seen Motito Gil'dae the Commander of the Mage Corps and now wondered why he now wore such finery. The eyes with the harsh accusation wandered then to Serion, again to the swords, wary.

“And you, I've seen you before on the practice squares, with a certain Provost Darsharn....”

Then before them he transcended from Meditation to Clara, to the planes. Drawing a tiny trickle of Psionics essence that flowed through the illusion wrapped around him as he approached near enough that few others could see his face – and those that did would simply think they were seeing things.

Rezarm Taym's eyes flicked to blue and remained that way, the beard slowly receeding and the jaw changing just slightly. The flat pommel of the sword meanwhile elongated slightly and blackened completely, the sheath shimmering gold from top to bottom then reverting to simple brown leather.

“Although I now know that man had another name, Mister D'rinishad, Mister Gil'dae.”

He continued quietly, with a small, dry smile that was typically Duncan. It was an odd vision really as he carefully changed his features for them, doing it so slowly that those around him would question what they were seeing. Just slight changes but enough; from Rezarm Taym to Duncan Sythe.

[Serion D'Rinishad]

"Well actually," Serion started, cutting himself off as his senses picked up the approch of someone that was more than a mere passerby. Moments before Duncan had spoken up in his Imperial guise, Serion had let his right hand move casually to his wooden sword. The aura around the man was strong, indicating a rather strong arcanic potential. While he was confident that he and Motito could probably take out a nosey soldier, his mission to complete his masterpiece might be foiled with the action.

Not saying anything, Serion stands erect at the mention of the man's familiarity with him. He did not like people knowing him, when he did not know an equal amount about them. Eyes glued to the man, Serion was prepared for anything--or at least he thought he was. The subtle shifting of features was not lost on his eyes, nor the slight shifting of arcanic essence used to create the effect. It was not long before a sort of half smile slips onto the face of the dark paladin.

"I must say that it is indeed a surprise to see you here. Especially since the last real time we saw each other was not too long after I had spoken with the honrable Provost." Serion was unsure whether to utter the man's name in this closed circle. Like Motito, Duncan could have been here for some reasons that his name need not be mentioned. "I was just speaking to my new friend, Eresse. A group such as ourselves probably shouldn't congregate for too long in the middle of the streets though. They might think us up to something."

A sarcastic smile on Serion's lips, the dark elf motions down the street. Perhaps we should get a bite to eat while we catch up. It's a more social way of doing things in this odd city, I'm sure.

[Gossamer]

Suti couldn't resist. He just couldn't. The three men were eying each other like three Sunn bulls put together in the same pen by accident before a sacrificial slaughter to honor Torek. Easy... EASY pickings. He'd eat tonight, well, unless he missed his mark. He watched the crowd, wondering why the men were standing in the middle of the street (well, not quite middle but close enough) acting like total Outlanders and ignoring the fuss.

Distraction. That was easily had. Suti loaded a dart, a tiny one that fit in a tube no bigger than his palm, and gave it a puff in the guise of covering a polite cough. It launched true, embedding itself in Duncan's horse' rump. The animal snorted, threw up its head, and reared, lashing out suddenly with that hoof as if defending itself from a snake bite.

Perfect.

Suti was delighted. He darted in, with the confusion, and got close enough in the pressing crowd to give the purple bedecked vaisal a good riffling through. He'd cut any purse he found, and steal anything else that he could palm. Suti was good, growing up on the streets all his life. It wasn't anything to relieve an Outlander freak of his coin, especially one dressed as a giant eggplant that was far too overripe to be edible.

He could almost taste the meat pie he'd feast on that night.

[Motito Gil'dae]

Serion was just about to get to the meat of his inquiry when the stranger arrived, and the dark elf clammed up. As the Imperial Soldier approached, it was a common sight for the Eldest Gil'dae, though he was careful not to show it. His look of calm surprise flickered across his visage as he turned to face the stranger, smiling with an edge of warmth.

"Well serale there," the elf began in a friendly yet slightly superior tone, as was befitting his cover. Crap, this could be bad. If this soldier recognized who he was it might cause problems, and the last thing he needed was trouble from an Imperial soldier while he was trying to get ahold of the underworld in Zinn'Sunn. "I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure, though oddly I get asked that question from soldiers all the time. Damn confusing, if you ask me," he began haughtily, and then he noticed the subtle changes in appearance. As the illusion transitioned and diminished, The elf blinked twince in rapid succession, admittedly somewhat surprised.

"What in the name of Carmelya...?" Serion was an unlikly one, but Serion and Duncan not only in the same brightening, but at the same time? He was careful not to give away too much, however, lest he lose his cover completely.

The multiverse was laughing at him, he was sure of it. Not like the multiverse would have been the first to do so, given his rediculous outfit.

"I'm sorry, good sir, but I'm afraid I don't know this Mister Gil'dae of whom you speak. That's twice now in almost as many moments that I've been mistaken for this mysterious person...by Sir D'Rinishad here, no less. My most sincere apologies." The gods did enjoy giving him the finger, didn't they? Just when he'd gotten Serion to play along...

"The name is Eresse Romen. Who are you and what can I do for you?" His expression was slightly snide, but his eyes, just as with Serion, glimmered with recognition and in this instance, a degree of familiarity. Duncan would probably find his attempt at a disguise laughable, but truth be told he wasn't exactly disguising himself so much as simply pretending to be someone else...and unlike a certain irritatingly cynical mystic, Motito didn't have the direct means to alter his appearance to match a new personality.

Wait a second... He remembered the ring he'd given Duncan some eras ago...perhaps it was time to get Duncan to return the favor.

Before he had the opportunity to react, however, there was quite the comotion. Duncan's horse, in point of fact. The instant a diversion occured, the elf was on his guard. Normally he might not have been, but he'd come here intending to look the part of the rich mark with money to spare, and he didn't forget that fact for a minute.

If he caught the attempt at lifting his purse he'd slide his longknife from his sheath and, while grabbing the man's arm, put blade to belly. If not, it was no matter...it'd be easy enough to Summon his pouch back to him once he noticed it missing...and he'd take extra care to make sure he took the holder with it. Either way the man trying to take the pouch would likely hear from the elf 'merchant' very, very soon.

[Serion D'Rinishad]

As Duncan's horse rears up, Serion should have supected something was odd. Trained horses, such as those Duncan and Serion often used, did not spook for no reason at all. Maybe it was the fact that Serion had spent so much time in the peaceful setting of Natura, or maybe it was simply luck on the thiefs part, but the former thief simply did not recognize the ruse for what it was.

Jumping back from the horse, Serion slides to the beasts side to place a hand on the horses neck, hopeing to sooth its jitters. Even had Serion noticed the thief, he probably wouldn't have said anything. It wasn't the vysstichi's duty to keep Motito's purse strings attached to his belt, especially seeing as the elf was dressed as a target anyway.

Should the dark elf's hands find the dart he will remove it from the beast's flesh. Otherwise Serion will simply continue trying to settle Duncan's horse down. If they were trying to keep to themselves, surely the would be noticed by everyone in the market area. Serion could only imagine how long it would take before people start stopping in the streets to eye the spectacle.

OOCShort post just to keep things moving

[Duncan Sythe]

Irritably Duncan gave the reins in his left hand a sharp tug, mostly to counter the sudden rearing motion and prevent himself being dragged into the air. His eyes meanwhile scanned the street whilst he shifted his footing to put himself less directly looking at Serion and Motito; and more to what was around them.

The Elf's words had at the time caused a slight smile as he acknowledged the man's attempts to shade his identity. He'd been about to reply to the question in kind when the horse had gone about its theatrics, the cause unknown. Not one to take surprises lightly Duncan's mind soared to Meditation – probably a drastic overreaction given the situation but not given his past experiences – and he drew essence, formed to mana allowing him Awareness, a simple divination that heightened his senses.

He didn't know the cause of all this was Suti of course but between the three of them it was highly likely that several things would occur quite quickly. Firstly Duncan's horse ought to calm down after being summarily brought down to the ground and soothed by the man who was most probably twice the horseman Duncan was...and between Serion's keen, streetwise eyes, Motito's inherent suspicion and his own spellcasting and similar intentness on finding the source of the alarm, Suti was going to get a very nasty surprise.

Granted even if the three of them had been what they claimed to be, an Imperial Guard Kestor and a Paladin were not the kind to rob...although Motito's guise was admittedly more suitable. But instead the former Commander of the Imperial Mage Corps, a powerful Vysstitichi noble and the former Imperial Mage – those the titles to start with. The spectacle to the Gods was no doubt quite laughable...and likely to cause Suti considerable discomfort very shortly.

[Gossamer]

Suti thought he was free and clear. Quick hands found a money pouch, and a whole lot more trouble it seemed. A full four feet tall, approximately eight years of age, and part of a clan no one had ever heard of... the Kemite youth was definitely out for coin and nothing more. He was too young to be experienced in people trying to look like a mark, and he was too uneducated to suspect mages, for most of them in Zinn'Sunn wore instruments or their affiliation colors to denote what they were.

There were no such hints from the strangers, and as intently as Serion and Duncan were looking about, they'd spot him as easily as one would spot a black sheep in a flock of snow white fleece.

As for the horse, it didn't pull itself away from Duncan. The jerk on its reins, while not exactly a kind hearted soothing move, did bring the animal up short and cause it to snort and paw, yet hold its place alongside the mystics' side. Serion, while seemingly more astoot with the animal, calmed it further and located a long wicked looking needle-fine dart protruding from its shoulder. It was dark, and would have been hard to find against the horse's flesh except the animal was quivering its skin around the spot the offensive item protruded.

All three of the gentleman, depending on who moved first and fastest, could snatch Suti up either arcanely or physically and retrieve Motito's purse, sparing him the trouble of Summoning it back. Otherwise the boy would bolt as soon as he was spotted, heading out for parts unknown.

[Motito Gil'dae]

Motito was the first to react--odds were pretty high of that considering it was his coinpurse, afterall--and grabbed the youth's arm. After eras of military training and then eras more of maintaining the rigorous schedule despite the lack of military status, his grip was still like iron compared to most, and hauled the boy backwards so his longknife could press against the lad's ribs. He whispered quietly but unwaveringly factually and without hesitation to the boy, "Try to move and I'll gut you."

With the knife still pressed into the lad's ribs, he let go and reached for the pouch, snatching it back, and resecured it on his own belt. He leaned in close, completely ignoring Serion's and Duncan's goings on, and let his quicksilver eyes bore into the child's with devastating depth.

"I have exactly no time for games. Who do you work for and where can I find them?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, "I like the answers I get and you not only get away with your life, you might get some coin for your trouble." Sadly, he didn't expect to get much ou