Kriegspiel
A war-game used to teach strategy.

liquidrage:

A lone figure sat quietly on a small rise, not far from the capitol city, laid out below in the valley. Upon closer inspection, one would only see a non-descript woman breaking her morning fast, her gaze transfixed by the buildings below her. As she finished, the lady stood, brushing unseen crumbs from the dress she wore.
Kitiara took a very long moment, just standing quietly, before she moved down the hill, onto the 'Kings Road' that led into the heart of the city. As she meandered (for one could not even call her gait a walk, stopping at this, or that thing by the roadside, halting entirely whenever someone passed by, her gaze following them) down the bricked road, she changed small things about herself. Things one wouldnt notice with a glance at the cloaked figure - her hair lightened, infintismally slowly to a bright, burnished copper. Then, after she stared for a moment after an open carrige of twittering ladies - she reached a hand up and brushed it through hair that was now a cascading mess of curls, nicely styled at the nape of her neck in the latest fashion of the city she'd never been to.
Skin became lighter, her deeply tanned olive complexion becoming fair and pale.. Yet she couldnt resist smattering freckles over her nose and cheeks - just a touch of imperfection. Kit grinned, the crooked expression wicked as she slowly became someone else entirely. All changes so minor, but by the end of the road, as she crossed into the city itself, she was unrecognizable as the lady who'd watched the sun rise over the city just that morning.

That crooked smile stayed in place as she wandered haphazardly through the streets, having no clear path of where she was going, it seemed. As the day wore on, she turned up in the market streets, inevitably finding the open food stalls, watched over by loudmouthed vendors hawking their wares. She caused a minor scene by paying for her spiced meat with a small gem, but the astonished vendor (once assured of the trinket's value) happily traded her empirical coin in change. She paused at many stalls after that, munching through various candied fruits, sweatmeats, pastries.. A slight toss of the brazen curls, and she popped the last of a tart into her mouth and headed for the less crowed streets closer to the palace.
She breathed easier away from the press of people, her eyes catching now only on signs for the inns and taverns. She rejected them all, proceeding even closer to the rose-colored stone wall of the outer palace. She circled these roads for a time, finally settling on one - The Bloody Unicorn - the sign read. This startled a laugh from the woman, whose violet eyes glittered in amusement as she shoved the heavy door open and stepped into the brightly lit enterance. Securing her room with another small gemstone, the stranger settled into the common room with a mysteriously procured book. Tucking her legs under her, she propped the volume open and proceeded to ignore the rest of the patrons in favor of the words nestled before her.

The sights of foreign cities never ceased to amaze the lone traveler, even after countless new homes there was always a sense of amazement over how different two neighbors could be. The people, however, were all the same.

The man's pale, bony fingers reached out from the black cloth embroidered with what he had taken as his crest - a silver-scaled dragon - he wore for a moment as he donned his hood and slid his dagger silently into it's sheath, carefully concealed beneath his robes as not to draw wary eyes. He found himself regretting that such a beautiful home could be stained by such violence, but coin was coin he told himself, and on this night there was little choice.

A sudden urge for ale took hold of him as he slipped as silently as possible through the shadows of the grand city, his mind far from his new home. A glint caught by the very edge of his eye drew his attention to a familiar sign. 'The Bloody Unicorn' it read. In the days he had spent in the capitol, the man had spent as many nights in there. One more, he thought, would do no harm.

The light was blinding as he opened the door, so much so that he drew his hood lower as he trudged through the room. With no desire to speak, he threw his coin on the counter as he walked past paying no attention to the woman behind it. They were familiar with him, more so than he liked, and knew well not to bother him with questions. He always took the cellar, he always payed double, and he never caused any trouble for them; though he was sure they were suspicious.

The common room was a place he detested more than any other, social interactions were not a common thing in his life and he liked it that way. This night, however, he would have to bear it momentarily. As he stepped into the room an air of uncertainty took hold of him. Something new, something unknown was there, something he didn't like. He pushed through the feeling, letting it slip to the back of his mind, but not letting it escape completely. Just in case he was right. He stopped near his client's regular table, surprised to see it empty (his client was never late, why tonight?). His mind raced through the possibilities, examining all the evidence until he concluded that the client had betrayed him. Whether to set him up for capture, or because he hadn't the money to pay, he could not tell. He decided it best to retire for the night, glad he kept his lodgings a secret. As he left for the cellar, he noticed what he had felt before, a woman sitting silently, absorbed in a book he could not identify. Nothing noteworthy about her at first glance, however his gut told him there was more than that. But more pressing matters urged him to leave, curiosity unsatisfied and stomach empty. He took one more glance before departing, and found part of himself hoping she would return it before his feet carried him away.

Kit's eyes slid away from the book as a hooded figure stepped through the establishment's door. She watched him through lowered lashes, the hood catching more of her attention than any other patron that night. Only those with secrets wore such things into brightly lit rooms.. An observation she found true more often than not. Amethyst eyes, still turned downwards, flicked over his back, noting the marked silence, the disregard for the coins he tossed at the innkeep's maid behind the counter, the uncertain pause by an empty table - and that by the maid's reaction to him, he had clearly been here before. All this added up to what she deemed a curious thing.

The book snapped shut as he turned on his heels to leave. And when he looked at her, he would find strange eyes looking brazenly back at him, a tiny half smile on her face. The hands were folded in her lap over the book, feet still tucked underneath her skirts. She seemed unconcerned with propriety, for while a noblemans daughter (by the elegance of her clothes and gems at her throat, she appeared as such), would have dropped her eyes by now, played it shy and soft, she was still watching him outright, unabashed.

Kit held back any other movement for the time being, waiting like a coiled viper in the sheets. It seemed, at least for the moment, that shed chosen the right place to be.

The woman's look caught the man by surprise, stopping him in his tracks. Her posture was out of place, more foreign to these lands and to even to her outward appearance, than he was. His hand instinctively reached back, only an inch or so but he knew the movement wouldn't go unnoticed. He quickly changed his posture, positioning himself at an angle that showed more of his body, a subconscious instinct he was aware of but unable to control. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, or what he could see of her, and a number of small inconsistencies stood out. Her amethyst were the first to catch his attention. In many lands, he'd never seen anyone posses that color, nor that intensity. Her posture was that of a vagrant, little care for what others think, but her clothes were elegant and expensive. The gemstones around her neck screamed nobility.

At first thought he wondered if this was a nobleman's wife, brought up in poverty but married rich. A pang of jealousy flooded his senses, the weight of the work he'd done to obtain his wealth was the cause. He reminded himself that it was not his place to judge. He wanted a closer look, but he knew his hood would never allow him the chance from this distance, and removing it was far too great a risk. A thought begged at him, forcing the way to the front of his mind and leaving no other option but to obey. He made his way back to the inn's maid and removed a brown leather pouch from under his cloak, revealing his hand only long enough to place it on the counter. He spoke in a whisper, no louder than the wind, and the maid quickly departed deeper into the inn leaving only the two strangers in the room.

The thought of lifting his hood was unnerving, revealing his face was a blasphemy to his profession, but if needed he could always rely on his dagger to keep his secret. As he turned, his hands slipped from his robe as he reached for his hood. He slowly pulled it back, revealing a head of long white hair reaching down to his shoulders, his cheekbones defined in a way only seen in starving vagrants. His eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the blinding light permeating the room. One would expect white skin to glow in bright light, but it was as if his skin swallowed any light that dare touch it. His eyes opened slowly, still burning from the light it has avoided for so long. Grey irises, almost as black as the pupils they surround, and an almost invisible red tint in the whites of his eyes made seeing in light almost impossible at first. After a moment of adjusting, he could make out the many details he couldn't while hooded: the freckles on her face, the slight outline her legs made under her skirt, her copper hair that reminded him of his sisters back home. A sudden grip took his mind, images of his home all those years ago, the family that took him in, his father. He snapped himself out of it, unsure of how much time had passed.

A quicksilver grin darted onto her face, there and gone as she knew she'd caught attention. As he shifted, her eyes followed the movement - yet she did nothing else. To outward appearance, this meant either she had no idea what lay in reach in time of danger, or, more likely, that she didnt care despite the risk. Kit let him study her without moving a hair's breadth from her position, the violet depths of her eyes inscrutable.

As he turned away, her posture shifted slightly towards the pair, as if to catch the soft words. When he turned back, there was a faint air of change around her one couldnt quite pinpoint. The book was nowhere to be seen, although her hands still lay folded in her lap. Her head was tipped to one side, watching him silently. Her hair, bound behind her head before, was now falling about her shoulders, the coppery tones catching light in the curls. And as he removed the hood, her posture shifted again. She straightened languidly from her casual slouch, shoulders going back, suddenly taking possession of a regality before unseen. Her eyes sharpened on him, studying him as much as he had her.

Ah, now then, here was a curiosity. Mentally she ticked through the numerous list of beings that she knew of, and discarded them all for the time being. Knowing wasnt important anyways - not yet. Instead, she smiled suddenly once more, slender fingers tapping thoughtfully. "You look as out of place here as I feel, stranger. Yet you know this place?" It was phrased as a question, but there was a hint of a statement in it. She'd already seen his familiarity with the inn. She studied his eyes the most, their own odd coloring holding a fascination.

He came back from his thoughts and noticed that the air had changed, something about her was different, although he couldn't put his finger on what it was. He filed the thought away and focused on the more important matters, primarily the fact that the woman seemed in no way fearful of him, such a thing was more curious than her violet eyes. His eyes drifted to hers, and he noticed for the first time the depth they had to them, though they did nothing to betray her thoughts or emotions, aside from an obvious curiosity. His eyes drifted down, absorbing and filing all the information he could take in, and he soon noticed the change in posture and the sudden disappearance of the book. Had he been absorbed in thought long enough for her to store it? If he had been, where did she put it? He could see no place to stash a book where it would be hidden completely aside from under her skirt, the thought of which was ridiculous enough to bring him nearer to laughter than he had been in many years. He suddenly realized her hair had changed too, had she taken it down as well? No, he thought to himself, there couldn't have been enough time for both. A sudden curiosity took hold of him.

Her smile caught him off guard just as her gaze had earlier. A warmth spread through his skin, from his stomach outward it spread through every inch of him. A feeling he had felt many times before, the thought of it sickened him. His instinct begged him to kill her and leave, but he found himself incapable of movement for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint. He attempted to return the gesture, his lips curling awkwardly, and found himself expected her to leave. For many years he has avoided just this situation; ever since he left his family behind he has not laughed, nor smiled, nor spoken to anyone but clients. He hardly noticed her voice over his thoughts, the words slipping through him heard but unheard. The warmth turned to fire, hatred boiling now. He closed the distance in moments, leaving no time for a reaction, stopping mere feet from her with one hand drawn and the other gripping his still sheathed dagger beneath his cloak. He reigned in his emotions and fixed his demeanor, taking on a more subtle, noble stance; but his left hand remained on his dagger, caution with strangers is necessary.

"I know many places, m'lady." He responded, hiding any hint of emotion that may wish to manifest itself. "And many places know me. But I will never fit." His mind wandered again, to the long list of homes he had, and the feelings each one brought. He pushed the thoughts away and focused on the woman. "But I'm more interested in you, m'lady. Tell me, what brings you to an inn with the Bloody Unicorn's..." He searched for the right words for a moment. "Unusual charm." A poor choice of words, he thought, but it would elicit a more interesting response. A reflection from her hair caught his eye, the pain forcing him to look away, and he found himself lost in thought once again.

Her eyes narrowed faintly at the sudden display of aggression, a cold look passing briefly over her face. She was not unaware, it would seem, of what he could do, yet even so she stayed still, watching him. As if she gauged his reactions, weighing them against some inner scale. 'Lost in thought,' she mused silently to herself. This odd man seemed a bundle of emotions. Her head tilted slightly again as she studied the reactions, moreso his eyes, which often seemed far away, focused on some inner memory. Silently she wondered if such things didnt distract him all the time, or if her chosen form had something to do with such apparent memories. All unknowable as yet..

"I'm a wanderer," she replied lightly, with the edges of her lips quirking in another strangely crooked smile, "As it appears you seem to be by your words." She raised her eyes to glance around the empty common room, skipping over the cared for, if rustic, decor of the room. "The name of this place amused me. What better reason than that?"

Kit tipped her head in a gesture, indicating another armchair a few paces away if he wished to snag it and stay. "If you have the time good Ser, stay a moment and tell me of the places you've been." There was a lilting quality in her shielded demand of him, a laugh not uttered, curiosity barely implied by delicate words.

The woman's voice seemed to draw him in. His gaze drifted to the empty chair nearest hers, and an unexplainable desire to stay clawed its way out of the deepest recesses of his mind. Without a thought his body drifted to the chair. As he sat he noticed the change in his posture; he sat crooked to one side, one arm resting on the arm of the chair as the other was placed idly in his lap as if forgotten, nobility replaced with an awkward mix of unease and comfort. His eyes drifted back to her as his mind slowly came back to reality.

"A wanderer..." The words left his mouth without a thought behind them. An old habit he despised in himself, but one that had not bothered him in many years. "There's few places I haven't laid eyes on, m'lady." His mind started to slip from reality again, a shake of his head saw that it remained in place. "I've seen castles scarcely imaginable, and slums most foul. I've lived within a forest tribe, dark of skin and black of hair, tall almost as the trees around them. I've housed with gypsies and nobleman alike, and found neither to my liking." He paused shortly to measure her reactions, but if any were made they were inscrutable.

"I've seen many things that few could explain in my years of travel." He chose his words carefully, urging her curiosity despite his lack of desire to answer. Very few people showed such curiosity around him, probably out of fear he thought. But she showed no fear of him, despite his outburst. 'A powerful woman, or a careless one.' He thought to himself, his hand reaching out from its cover and lightly tapping the arm of the chair. At his touch the wood trembled and faltered, a small crack permeating the silence as the grain split, pulling his attention from the woman. Such a thing was not strange to him, destruction was commonplace in his long life, but he wondered what this strange girl would think of such an event.

His eyes snapped back to her, searching once again for any sign that might betray her inner thoughts. "Amusement is as good a reason as any, m'lady." He kept his voice devoid of any hint of his amusement at the idea, deciding it safer to avoid anything that may show a liking for this stranger. His thoughts raged through his mind, he found himself wondering if he may enjoy this woman's company.

Kit cocked her head to one side as she listened, the gesture imitating a bird - although she had picked it up from the winged cousins, harpies. Her eyes nearly twinkled at his explanation s that explained little. She had not spent long in mortal realms to be honest, and so much of what he spoke of was new. New, of course, simply piqued her curiosity all the more.

that crooked grin appeared again as wood splintered a little at his touch. She hadnt felt magic from him - but that could be her own fault. Kit bound herself when playing with human courts (it wasnt fun elsewise) and in so doing still struggled to probe others without revealing herself. "Things hard to explain?" She dropped her eyes to the arm of his chair, clearly wanting an explanation for that.

before he could answer, however, she looked back at him, odd grin still in place. "But do stop calling me m'lady. Just Kali will be fine." Kit had debated that one, but figured if hed been so many places... it was better not to use any of her names that might ring a bell of something once heard whispered in ghost stories. She didnt ask for his, but fell silent instead, leaving it up to him.

The man idly dug his nail through the newly formed crack as he studied Kali's reactions, the sound of wood splitting further was drowned out by his thoughts. He found a strange sense of familiarity with the way her head moved, like a bird he thought, like a harpie. He had little experience with the creatures, but he would always remember the odd ways in which they carried themselves. The crooked grin she wore, the sudden glint in her eye that he couldn't help but feel was intentionally shown, and her curiosity made him wonder if she was more foreign than he thought.

"Kali..." His voice trailed off, the thoughts racing through his head were too fast and too many to be said aloud. He found no familiarity in its sound, even after all his travels it rolled off his tongue like a new language entirely. He probed his mind for a name, trying more desperately than he liked to remember it. It was lost though, gone as everything else was, or would soon be. "I'm afraid I've no way to return the gesture, Kali." It still felt alien on his tongue. His vision drifted to the arm of his chair as a black rot took hold of the wood from deep in the crack, reaching out with a morbid desire to consume. He quickly sheathed his arm safely into his cloak. "I apologize." He noted without thinking, still attempting to read her reactions.

Kali raised a delicate eyebrow, mild disbelief followed by a flash of seemingly out of place amusement. Then again, he'd spent less than an hour with her but it was already clear she was easily amused - even if the causes of that were not what one would normally attach to merriment. She didnt speak, as if taken aback a moment.

Violet eyes hooked onto the airm of the chair again, and she raised them back to look at him only when she had decided. "Well, then, I shall call you by Vharrus, if you like the sound of it." she gave a half shrug with one shoulder, a lilting note of amusement in her voice again.

"Vharrus." He muttered, voice low and distant. "It's foreign, certainly, but then I am as well." His voiced cracked for a moment, it was abnormal for him to declare himself foreign, although that was mostly due to the fact that it was obvious. For the first time he realized just how far he'd come in his life and how much he had seen. "I suppose it will do for now, it shall certainly make conversing much simpler. Though I have to ask where such a name could come from." His face betrayed his curiosity now as he shifted to his other side, the rot now gone from the wood with no trace.

As he shifted his robe caught beneath his leg, his shoulder poking out from beneath his collar, the small metallic clasp hidden behind the collar made little noise as the small pieces of metal bent and twisted until they finally snapped. His idle hand shot to his chest, grasping both sides of the robe in an attempt to keep hidden, but he hadn't the time to reach far enough to stay concealed completely. The hood of the robe slipped beneath his shoulder blades, the sides sliding down his arm revealing scarred skin as thin as paper and as transparent as glass. His bones visible easily to the naked eye seemed to press against his flesh from between the muscles, where they had grown around like the roots of a plant. The veins and arteries in which his blood flowed were black as a moonless night and seemed to stretch with each beat of his heart. He focused and in a moment, with extreme effort, his skin turned a milky white to match his face, hiding now what was once --as he often thought to himself-- hideous to observe. His eyes shot back to Kali, scrutinizing every inch of her body for any signs he could read.

Kit hid inner amusement at his reaction, remarking mildly, "If one does not remember one's name, I would think you'd be free to choose your own." That quicksilver grin flashed again. "Failing that, my naming you will have to suffice." She brushed strands of fallen hair out of her eyes, her glance lingering on the strands a moment. "Names are as mercurial as their owners.." She trailed off, eyes caught and held by his brief struggle with the robe.

Well, that cinches my stay here for a while, Kit mused to herself, eyes sharp on him. I've seen a glass dragon built by magework.. but never glass skin. So, what are you..? She resisted reaching out to touch the briefly exposed skin, a hand making one small motion towards him before laying still again. Though she did not bother to hide the curious expression. A tiny crease between her brows indicated puzzlement, but she did not scream, or bolt, or gasp; or any other response oft made by people who knew too little. And she also did not ask.

"Vharrus means warded." she said, quietly, and unperturbed. It suited him even more so, now, at least to her. "From a white-haired people far from here."

Vharrus made note of her every move, from the grin that had slid onto her face to the way her hand moved ever so slightly towards his exposed skin. The movement of her hand made him instinctively recoil, pressing his back against the arm of the chair and locking his robe in its new more revealing position.

"I've never needed a name." His voice revealed a slight amusement, though what it was from eluded him. "I find it easier to avoid, in all honesty. Most people wouldn't know me long enough to make use of one anyways." He was surprised at his open reaction to her, it was not often that he gave information that was not asked for, or fought for. Her reactions toward him interested him more, however; her lack of fear was strange among all but one creature he knew, but that creature had no fear of anything, and no need for it. Her air of whimsy was almost irresistible and he soon found himself desiring answers.

"White-haired people far from here." He quoted, only a slight note of curiosity in his voice. "I've never seen a white-haired people in my travels. Not one that wasn't rare even amongst his kin anyways." He put his question between the lines, unsaid but surely not unheard. He enjoyed the idea of testing her mind more so than he should. His skin turned from milk to glass as his concentration slipped for a moment, giving it an appearance similar to living marble; the lack of fear on her face led him to decide that maintaining this appearance was unnecessary, and so he released his mental grip and allowed his skin to become transparent once again so that he may focus his mind elsewhere.

She flicked her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Everything has a name. If not one you choose, people will describe you however they see you; and some in ways you might not like." her eyes revealed a vague irritation, shadows in the depths, there and gone again as quickly as her smiles did. She gambled on her next words, gauging his reaction to give truth to her observation of early. "What would the person you expected to see here have called you, I wonder." She said it as a musing statement, much as he asked and did not ask his question.

"They have brilliantly red eyes." She offered in exchange, neither telling him who or what they were, but drawing another similarity into the open. His were not red - but there was a strange tint in them nonetheless. And her eyes drifted from his, as his concentration waned on his appearance, hers sharpened on it. She was tracing patterns, the look of him foreign even to her, so well versed in oddities. "And are also affected negatively by light." Her eyes flashed in sudden amusement, and the words were out of her before she really thought about it. "They called me Rose-eyes." Crooked smile in place, she gave a faint shrug. "I am not surprised you never met them, though. And you should be glad of it, I suppose, as they are not kindly to most."

"I've never liked a name before." He said, shrugging slightly and fixing his eyes on hers. "Rose-eyes?" He asked, thinking back to his years of travel. "I've never seen a rose the color of your eyes." He added, a curiosity creeping into his mind. Could there be even more surprises in store? He would have to stay and find out. "My reaction to light is not.. hereditary." He noted, rubbing his temple to alleviate the slight pain still persistent behind his eyes. "It is the result of years of darkness."

He turned his attention to the strange men she spoke of, "Most things are not kind in this world, I am no different." There was an undertone in his voice, a glimpse of pain and malice that he could never truly cover. "Though I get the impression that you know more than I on the matter." His words were more than a mere suggestion, he hid not the fact that he was certain that there was more to her than she would allow him to know.

"What other strange things have you seen?" He asked, unsure of whether she would give him a truthful answer. He let his concentration slip further, focusing on her, his bones beginning to writhe beneath his flesh. He reigned in the control necessary to still them, and no more, as he watched carefully.

She smiled again, slowly, and for a very brief moment, there was a predator looking back at him, a feral edge to her that shimmered just underneath the veneer she wore. Then, the smile quirked as it usually did, and the look was gone. "I would love to find a rose the color of my eyes." she replied in riddle. Kit, or Kali, as the case was today, was unsure what made her speak even a part of her true titles. But she was quite sure she should not do so again. This was no place for her, and she would be wise to remember that, no matter how interesting the subject.

She noted his discomfort, even still. "Neither was theirs, in the beginning of their race. It was an adjustment to life without light, save for the magefire they possessed." She eyed him with head tilted again to one side - it seemed to be a favorite of hers. "Although I am quite sure not many people see you." An eyebrow lifted delicately upon considerations of her next act. Even scant trust should be repaid, and he had taken a risk, displaying himself.. "I have certainly not seen anything like you," she added, tones of amusement and curiosity in her voice again.

Though she displayed no outward movement, Kit reached out, very delicately, outside her self-imposed bindings. She was far too familiar with exploding candles where she only meant to light them. And, gingerly, the candles and flames from the hearth went out. She left the embers alone, giving the room an eerie red glow, enough for herself, in this form, to see by. Just as carefully she retracted that faint edge of power. Kit lifted a brow at him, certain he could see just fine, inviting him to share the joke. "Now we may both turn each other over to the gaurds and burn as demons."

A sudden feeling of dread took hold of him, an obvious result of the ferocity that flashed behind her eyes. Though only a moment long, it was enough to bring him to guard; shifting positions to a more defensible stance and reaching instinctively for the handle of his dagger. If not for the robe that had slid down over it, he may well have drawn his blade on her.

A dry laugh escaped him before he could stop it, his vocal chords obviously strained. "One must be careful in my presence," He warned, "I'm quick to react." He removed his hand from his blade and placed it carefully in his lap. "That's quite a trick." He motioned towards the now unlit candles, a grin slowly working its way onto his face. "But I can do better." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and focusing inward. The embers of the fires turned black, glowing with a silver aura that cast an almost moonlight like light throughout the room.

"This is how I see best." He quipped, opening his eyes. For the first time he saw the intricate details of her face, noting the finer points that made him wonder if her face was a false one. "I see more than flesh in you," he didn't try to hide his curiosity this time, "there's a power I've not seen since the time of my people." A sudden look of worry crossed his face, certainly noticed by this beautiful stranger. He released the embers returning the room to its previous state. "I've met demons in my time, and none have shown such..." He trailed off, choosing not to reveal the conclusion to that thought. "It is unlikely that you will ever see another like me," he noted, remembering her earlier words, "my kind is long since gone from this world." There was no sense of pain in his voice, if anything he sounded happy to be rid of them.

She merely smiled at his reaction, still sure of herself, serene, almost. She clearly knew what she had displayed, and it was just as clear she took some odd pleasure in the reaction. She sat quite still as he responded with his own kind of power. Truthfully she had not felt this kind of magic before, and resisted the urge to both prod at the magic itself, and the urge to take an owl's eyes in the moonlight-esque glow, certain that he would feel or see one, if not both.

Kit plucked briefly at a fold in her skirts, the only indication that she, for once, was just slightly unsure. This was an entirely new game - and while fascinating, it also put her inwardly on guard. He spoke of ages past, which eliminated the last shred of the idea he may be just a cursed and accomplished human. Her eyes studied him still as the room returned to 'normal', interested at his concern over the matter of what she might be. They shared that. For she was unused to finding new things, even more so things that had been around at least as long as she. "Most demons cant keep their hands out of the muck long enough to be worthwhile." her tone indicated a vague scorn, but also a very out of place hint of protection.

She left the rest of his words unanswered, and very abruptly, uncoiled her legs from underneath her and moved to her feet. Kit had ignored his mild warning, deliberately. The movement was too quick, polished almost. If shed had a weapon, perhaps even dangerous. "If you see best by moonlight, then, I'd rather walk, if you'll join me." She gave a very unladylike huff. "Noblewomen mustnt travel alone and all that - there might be vagabonds roaming the streets." Again with the lilting, laughing tones that said plainly that she made mockery of such trivial matters.

Kali's demeanor and joking attitude made it clear she was not a being to be trifled with, which made her invitation all the more enticing. "Demons are more fickle than most would believe," His expression showed a vague interest, crippled by a hint of fear, "I've found them to be quite dangerous in my encounters, but many were not what I would classify as evil." He thought for a moment before speaking again.

"If we're to leave, I must change my attire prior." He didn't wait for an answer, instead lifting his robe as he stood and donning his hood. "I'll only be a moment." He chimed, drifting silently from the room towards his abode beneath the inn. In moments he returned, robe in hand and clad in hooded leather armor with intricate metal designs worked into the heart of the leather, visible only through the many deep cuts that had worked their way in over the years. The metal shown was deep red not by nature, but stained by the many battles it had endured. He threw the cloak over his shoulders and with a run of his finger he sealed the two sides together at the collar, throwing the hood of the robes over the previously raised hood. His outward appearance now matched what Kali had first seen.

"Shall we, m'lady?" He emphasized the last word, hoping to catch a laugh. He was unused to such encounters, and comedy had been a problem long before he became a solitary creature. He opened the front door as he spoke, gesturing her beyond the confines of the Bloody Unicorn.

Kit nodded acceptance, watching him as he strode away. Certain he was out of sight, she moved to the base of the stairs that would have led her upwards, to her own rooms.. It would make the change in her own clothing more believable. Kit took the briefest moment to consider, then shrugged her shoulders, as if to stave off a chill in the air. A cloak unfurled from the movement, clasped at her throat, inky black in color, frayed and worn at the edges. The gown lost the fine texture of silks, becoming faded homespun cotton. The gemstone choker and earrings were replaced by a simple seashell pendant dangling from a leather cord. Finished, she surveyed herself in the dark window glass, finding it acceptable.

Kali turned at the sound of his footsteps returning up the steps, looking him over with her crooked smile. She followed his movement towards the door, and a glittering laugh escaped her. Before she left the building, she dipped in a deep curtsy, as one might to a king. "M'lord." she said in return, rising with a twinkle in her eye. Kit exited the inn, and sighed softly in relief. She did not like closed spaces, even spacious rooms could be confining. She strolled down the street, not having a destination, but certain theyd find something of interest.

Vharrus felt a moment of pride as her laugh echoed through the room, her curtsy enticing a laugh from himself as he stepped across the threshold and into the moonlit night. He couldn't pull his gaze from her back, her new choice of clothing seemed naggingly familiar. A moment later he sorted away the thought to be remembered later and noticed a sense of freedom in the way she moved. He stepped quickly to catch up and slowed to maintain a distance just a few paces to her left, his eyes scanning vigilantly for any guards or passer-bys.

"So tell me, what brings you to this city?" He left the question vague to better judge her answer. "And from where does one as yourself hail?" He made no attempt to hide his curiosity deciding that if there was anything she would kill him for knowing she was sure to keep it hidden. "But first, allow me to entertain your curiosity; eye for an eye as the humans say." He emphasized the word human, a clear indication of his separation. "I've come here on business, nothing more. That's the easy one to answer. However, where I hail from..." His voice betrayed him, trailing off into the night. He regained focus and continued. "It has no name in this language, for it was far before its time. Likewise for my people, gone long before humanity crawled from the depths of hell." His voice was poisoned, his inner hatred seeping out between his words.

"Then speak it's name in your own tongue," she returned swiftly, watching him from the corner of her eyes. She smiled vaguely, turning her head slightly to look at him fully before she looked away again. "I wonder what business you had here. And if I have interrupted its course." she seemed amused at the idea; if she had noticed the tenors of hate in his voice she did not make mention of it.

"As you have guessed already I am sure, I am neither one of them," her gesture indicated the surounding buildings that housed the people of the realm, "nor is this my homeland." She chose her next words delicately, still unsure what danger he might pose if he wanted. "While I am not the last of my people, there are few enough left. They have needed protection, and they have it now." She smiled faintly. "I came for a volume secreted in the king's palace."

His interest peaked at the mention of protection, this was not a girl that needed any form of it. His turned head and thoughtful gaze would certainly have exposed it if she had noticed. "Khrahalli." His voice was devoid of any emotion as he spoke, though he was certain that it was more suspicious because of it. "I believe it lies below what is now called the Black Sea." He observed her from the corner of his eye, though he could hardly make out any reaction she might have to his words. "As for my business here, it has already been taken care of. Though I may have one last thing to do now." His eye caught the glint of armor and he extended his stride, pulling ahead of Kali and then abruptly took a right down a narrow alley, grabbing her wrist just long enough to steer her along.

"It's quite obvious really." A hint of arrogance in his voice. "For one not to notice would be.." He searched for the proper wording, "vacuous." He paused momentarily at the other end of the alleyway taking a deep breath and listening carefully for any signs of strangers. Deciding the way was clear, he quickly resumed movement. "Not secreted well enough if you know of it." A small chuckle reverberated through the air. "Though if it's the king's palace you seek entry to, I may know a way in." He stopped and turned on heel to wait for a reply.

"Did you dislike your people so, Vharrus..?" she mused, the question not truely meant to be answered, but a soft observation. She seemed startled by his touch, not pulling away until he released her, but distancing herself once he did. She held her cloak tightly with one hand then, as if to find a solace in the cloth. The moment passed and she was herself again, as far as he had known her, the smile replaced.

She paused when he did, a vaguely wicked look on her face. "A way in, without notice? That would make the game much quicker." And the less time she spent in one place, the less chance her constant shadow would find her again and insist she attend to some matter of court. "I know of much - mainly for listening where others hear nothing."