Here I Go Again [Open]

[mrcreazil]

Over the past few thousand years, Kabekhnet had developed a style of searching for things. He gleaned what he could with magic, using his scrying spells to find clues of where things were. From there, it was a whole lot of walking. It was slow and methodical, but when you were an immortal looking for indestructible scrolls, slow wasn't a problem. He just had to find some sort of landmark, something recognizable from his visions. Then he could actually set to work, arranging a way to get what he wanted. The old man let out a sigh. He'd gotten used to the wide open expanses of continents, so he'd assumed an island would be a simple, quick search. How did such a small island seem so big? Maybe he was just getting impatient, now that his goals were so close. In only a few decades, he could have what he'd spent the past few millenia hunting.

He was a pretty unassuming sight, traveling along. To an outside observer, he seemed like a lone monk strolling along. Staff in hand, basket-like headdress concealing his face. The only part out of place was that every inch of exposed skin was bandaged, but there were explanations for that. As long as no one with super-smell happened along, he could explain a lot of things. It was much harder to explain the dry, sterile smell he let off. It was too subtle for humans to notice, but he'd encountered a few more bestial beings who'd told him he smelled like over-salted preserved meat. Which he supposed made sense, but it was still a bit insulting.

A twig snapped, and he stopped in his tracks. Undeath had cost him a few senses, but his hearing and sight were as sharp as ever. Well, the hearing was. The sight was a bit hampered by the wicker mask, but it was worth it to not need to sneak around in shadows. Sneaking wasn't his best skill, it was much easier to act like you were supposed to be where you were. "Who goes there?" he asked, gripping his staff a little tighter. He doubted it would be any danger, but it still never hurt to be prepared. The staff had become something of a security blanket for him, helping him focus. It reminded him of the staffs the priests in the old country carried. It was a bit of satisfaction, taking that tradition from them.

[Cernan]

From behind a tree stepped a young man, a broad smile on his face. His appearance was very nondescript, being of average height and build, dressed in loose fitting clothes of a light sandy-ashy grey with a matching cloak. It would be hard to say even how old he was, just that he was youngish, somewhere between a teenager and late twenties. This was all on purpose of course, Issen took great care to be as unnoticeable as possible. The only thing that would make him stand out was his light skin, and hair that was close to the same ashy colour as his clothes. That and his tail, which was mostly hidden under his cloak, and his poorly concealed ears folded back and tucked as best as possible into his hair.

Before he had come upon this stranger he had been sitting under another nearby tree considering what to do next. Since he had come to this country he had mostly failed in his goal, but he had plenty of time to get around to it. Mostly he had been finding himself rather bored. He'd had a couple of adventures, some more pleasant than others, but mostly he was just wandering around, foraging around and sleeping on the outskirts of town. It seemed that most of the people of this land didn't take too kindly to either strangers, foreigners or non-humans.

It was in the middle of this contemplation of his boredom that Issen had heard someone approaching. His ears momentarily popped up and discerned the exact location of the approaching person, before tucking back down. He got up and sneaked over closer to the path spying the man walking by. Issen had to suppress a laugh watching the man. He was clearly trying to disguise himself as a monk, but he was doing a poor job. His gait was all wrong, as was his bearing, and body movements. Still it probably fooled most people, who didn't posses the keen predator senses that Issen did. Having sized the man up, Issen decided he would probably be fun, and got closer getting behind a tree right where the man would have to pass. He hoped to follow and observe him for a while before introducing himself, when he stepped on a twig. The man heard him, and called out. Silently he cursed himself for such carelessness, and then rounded the tree to meet him.

With the largest smile he could put on he steppe out from behind the tree and put out a hand to shake in greeting.

"Sorry to startle you, but I wanted to see who was coming this way. My name is Issen, and you are?"

[mrcreazil]

The lich wasn't letting his guard down just yet. The man looked unusual, an ashy pale that could indicate poor health, or undeath, or some demonic nature. From the feeling he was getting, Kabekhnet was more inclined to think it was one of the latter. There was something supernatural about him, though it would take closer study to figure out exactly what that was. The sort of passive understanding his own magic gave him was pretty limited. He approached at a slow pace, fitting his elderly style. "Kabuto. Forgive me, I've grown cautious of late. Too many people have tried to accost me recently."  He shook the young man's hand. Kabekhnet had a firm grip, but under the bandages his hand felt a bit odd. The skin was stiffer, rougher than it should be. "You'd think they'd know better than to try robbing a man who's clearly taken a vow of poverty." he said, following his words with a dry, raspy chuckle.

For a supernatural being, he was acting unusually friendly. That alone was suspicious. Kabekhnet firmly believed that most people acted nice and cheery when they wanted something from you, and that was just for ordinary humans. For those with the power to manipulate the world around them and take what they wanted, that went double. The old man leaned on his staff, looking the younger being over. Sure enough, there were furry gray ears tucked down in his hair. He let out one of those unpleasant chuckles again. "If you're going to disguise yourself, I recommend a hat or a hood. Or perhaps a wig." He gestured towards the ears with a bandaged hand. "Not everyone is so understanding, you may have some people try to cause trouble." That confirmed his suspicions, the boy was a demon all right. He wondered if he was actually trying to blend, or leaving just enough visible to cause trouble.

He still wasn't sure how much the young man knew about him. Some demons could figure out what he was, or at least that he wasn't what he claimed to be, but he'd given no indication of that yet. For now, it was better to just keep quiet and keep his information advantage. Kabekhnet was a stranger in these lands, and he was face to face with a being of unknown age, power, and intent. He wasn't inclined to give an inch he didn't have to. The false monk kept a respectful distance, hoping that the demon hadn't picked up his odd smell. Those conversations could go some strange ways.

[Cernan]

At the mention of trouble Issen let out a small chuckle, and brushed his cloak to the side revealing the handle and scabbard of a long thin straight sword.

"The only ones dumb enough to cause try to cause trouble are the ones dumb enough not to know it's a bad idea. Besides I like being able to hear, it tells me a lot of things."

At that Issens ears popped back up, causing a slight metallic shimmer to come from his hair as it resettled

"Like how you don't have a heart beat for one. So tell me, what brings you way out to this far corner of the world?"

[mrcreazil]

That got his attention. The old man froze, looking at the younger demon for a moment. "I suppose it was inevitable. You don't hear anyone else around here, do you?" He gestured to his wicker headdress. "Can't go taking this off if someone who doesn't already know might see. It'll ruin my cover." Once he was sure the coast was clear, the old man sat on a rock, taking off his wicker mask. He was quite a sight. His skin was dried a grayish-brown, lips pulled back in a perpetual unpleasant grin. When he spoke, it was clear that his mouth had very little do do with the sounds he made these days. He couldn't enunciate properly with his face like that.

"What makes you think I'm foreign? Undead seem to be around the world over, albeit in different forms." He was keeping cagey on that. The demon boy knew one thing about him, that was no reason to give away everything. Better to make him work for his information. Though his question could be useful, maybe he knew something. "I'm a scholar, looking for the texts of a forgotten god from a distant lands. Old scrolls, made of something other than paper, with strange pictographic writing on them. And completely indestructible, if they're like the ones I've seen before. Seen anything like that?"

[Cernan]

Issen quirked his head from side to side twitching his ears as he considered the questions. He desperately wanted to poke and prod at the man before him, see what he was, what made him tick, but he figured that would be rude so he restrained himself, barely.

"It's a lot of things. Your accent is as bad as mine, you smell like..." Issen's nose twitched as he picked up the scent again and his smile faded for a second "like sand, like the desert.." Issen trailed off for a second looking into the distance before he snapped back, smile and all. "And a few other things that are harder to explain. I can just tell when something or someone belongs and when they don't."

Issen walked around the old man, eyeing him up as he did. He was partly just curious, as was his nature, but he was also fairly wary. The man seemed harmless enough but he had learned before liches were like most men who tried for immortality. Rarely was it for good reasons, and even rarer still would they stop at anything towards gaining that goal. He couldn't stop the slight scowl that crossed his features thinking about it, but still he figured so far he had no particular reason not to trust the guy. Besides whatever he was after it might prove interesting. Finally he stopped, leaning against a tree across from the man.

"I can't say I've seen anything like what you're looking for, but it sounds like the kind of thing that would be kept in a temple... or some lords private collection. You might get some help asking around in town maybe?"

At this Issen's features lit up. He was really hoping the man might agree, maybe pay for a room in an inn, some food maybe. It had been a while since he'd spent a decent night in a town.

[mrcreazil]

The old wizard looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Sand? That's a new one. Normally I'm told I smell like jerky." This one was surprising. A lot of demons had some sort of supernaturally enhanced senses, but this one went beyond just a sense of smell. It seemed like his nose could detect things long in the past, long after any trace of scent was gone. "I am from a desert, yes. But I left the Old Country a very long time ago, it's a distant memory now." He had almost revealed just how old he was. He was slipping a bit. Kabekhnet didn't like handing out any information unnecessarily.

He leaned on his staff, standing again and taking up his basket hat. "You know, I thought my accent was pretty good. Guess I'm still less polished than I thought, I hadn't even noticed." He'd spent a few decades studying the language before crossing the channel, trying to make himself sound like a native. So far he hadn't been called out by anyone else, but he'd mostly been dealing with commoners. He supposed they just dismissed his accent as coming from a different town or province, rather than a foreign land. He wondered if the same would hold up when he got to some noble court? Would they be educated enough to see through him, or out of touch enough to notice even less?

"I suppose a town would be best." His condition put him in an awkward position. Some of the best people to ask about supernatural things of all sorts were usually priests or monks, but Kabekhnet couldn't associate with them too much. They might see through his disguise, and if they saw his true nature they'd likely raise the alarm, and that would be a whole town he wouldn't be able to go near again, not for years at least. "I don't suppose you know any dealers in occult merchandise? I've had some luck with them before." The lich put his headdress back on, starting to walk down the road towards a nearby town. He gestured for the demon to walk with him.