Ivan staggered as he felt the priestess die in Samiel's hands. She was still screaming somehow, somewhere beyond her body, and still somehow just as within in Samiel's grip as the body that was being consumed by shadow. He knew that, but also that he only saw darkness with his eyes. In this place he could not see, no mortal eyes ever could, but always he would know what happened with every moment within its bounds. It was connected to him in a way he could just barely grasp with his understanding of magic.
He struggled to remember to keep his feet in this place as his senses focused on Samiel, clad in silken and finely cut clothes, raising some writhing thing in his corpse gray hands. He appeared somewhat Elven, his face and limbs all long and lithe, but his ears only suggested a taper. Small dainty horns peaked above his slick black hair, and a spade tail lashed about behind him. He was frighteningly androgynous, alluring and revolting to the senses all at once. Immediately Ivan understood that what appeared here was only a projection of the true nightmare the Devil was.
Ivan almost felt he should kneel, but then he would have to have control of his body. It was there in this strange space, and he was viewing it as if he were a bug on the wing. He hovered over his body, feeling his hands against the strangely familiar ground while looking down at himself in the same moments. It took him another moment to realize, but one he had there was no denying it. Whatever this place was it had replicated the garden of his home in the parish; a space of just about ten meters around. It held the long forgotten graves he had lain as if this strange realm was some dark vision of the future.
His attention was drawn away again as Samiel fed upon the soul of the priestess as if it were a snake he was swallowing whole. Ivan struggled to breathe, hearing, or maybe just knowing the sound of his body struggling without his mind to guide it.
He focused on himself, and suddenly recognized that he was looking into the dark yet again. He coughed, and caught his breath, both hands clenching the dirt as he tried to raise his head to look to where he knew Samiel stood. He still couldn't see him. Yet he was there. Ivan's new connection with whatever this was gave him understanding of everything in it as if it were a part of his own body. He knew the ground was a projection of his own mind, even the graves of earth if turned would only contain what his mind had put there, and those things at least could not come out of this space. Or maybe not yet. Ivan had no way to explain the sensations going through his mind.
Ivan's heart still hammered from the fighting. His eyes burned from the stunning light of the Priestess's last ditch efforts, and he was still hungry. His mana was full however. He could feel that. Whatever Samiel had done by eating that soul, its remote connection to Ivan had restored the magical energy it normally ripped from Ivan to do these rituals. It seemed Ivan truly did not understand how these rituals worked for he had not expected to conjure this place, or to develop some sort of connection to it.
“What happened? How are you here? In that...that puppet form.” Ivan gasped.
Samiel chuckled as he licked his fingers and flicked them into the air in a gesture to put anyone with the Chef Job to shame.
“Her terror was delicious Ivan. I do enjoy when a meal is prepared carefully. Most of the best ways are slow, but sometimes things are just better when they are fresh and hot. You've done well and you have my favor.” Samiel said, his voice as smooth as butter, and absolutely filled with malevolent mirth. “I feel as though you're piecing it together well enough already, but what do you think? Do you like my gift in return for the lovely, terrified souls you've sent my way?”
Ivan tried to focus, but it took effort. Eventually his mind stopped spinning around the new sensations and Ivan was able to collect himself enough to raise his hand. He directed his inspection spell at the effect of what seemed to be some strange item Samiel had given to him. Ivan only knew it was an item because it was connected to him, and his mind struggled with this next part, but it didn't seem to exist in the same way Quixla's Bloodletting Dagger did. It was more. And less. Somehow.
Inspect Item: The Shadow Shroud of Samiel, Equipment, Cloak, Magic Item
An object given to you by the Devil of Shadow, Samiel, and bonded to you through the ritual sacrifice of sentient souls. Bonding with this item has vastly increased your level of Demonic Corruption, but is also providing resistance to further corruption from outside sources.
This item is of higher rank than you can inspect for details. Cursory observation can detect some of its properties however.
This item appears to hide your aura of Demonic Corruption.
This item appears to control shadows.
This item appears to shape space.
Samiel laughed and clapped his hands. His tail lashed and he stepped forward.
“Now, now Ivan. I'm right here, you could have asked.” He chided, his malevolently charming voice tinged with playful mirth. “But I do realize that's what you are-- those who get the Scribe Job almost always are like this. Students like to be told the information they seek and ask questions, but Scribes, and their advanced Job of Scholar always just want the information sources handed to them so they can go study. It's always a thing with Warlocks since they never really trust their teachers for long.” He said, with another rolling laugh that made chills roll down Ivan's spine.
“Sorry.” Ivan said hastily. “What have you given me? How...How are we ...here?” Ivan asked, too unsure of his surroundings to know how to properly ask.
“Well. That answer depends on a few things really. You really must work with Penelope on these open ended questions before you summon any other demons. There's all sorts of unhelpful things I can tell you and still be within my bounds as a demon returning a favor to answer. For instance I could just tell you about how your realm was made instead of just telling you that you're within the conjured realm of the Shroud hidden within the shadows of the tool shed you dragged that poor and lovely little priestess into.” He chuckled again.
“We're inside the shadows?” Ivan asked, his voice reflecting his stunned thoughts.
“Indeed Ivan. Such is the most basic functionality of the Shroud. Learn to use it and you can slip through shadows with ease, and even travel through them for miles in the dark of the night in the blink of an eye. It's also quite the fashionable cloak without the fancy powers it has. Waterproof, highly magic resistant, and desirably warm.” Samiel said with a smile that somehow mixed friendly openness with the predatory nature of his fanged mouth.
“But how...” Ivan asked, unable to come up with the proper words to explain the sensations he was experiencing in his mind.
He knew what Samiel said was true. He could feel it. He knew where he was, and which shadow he was in, inside the old tool shed. His body was inside the space within the shadow, impossibly, but undeniable to his new found senses in this place.
“How does this place--” He waved his hand about in the darkness he still couldn't see through with his own eyes. “How does all this space fit inside with me? What kind of magical item is the Shroud?”
“A sinful one.” Samiel chuckled. “It was meant to be my gift to mortal kind back before I became what I am now. When I fell it fell with me, and what was once bright and beautiful became a thing of darkness. Yet in truth dear Ivan the Shroud is not simply some magical item, but one of fallen Divinity. Even cast into shadows it is still a divine item, and this space does truly exist. It is a physical realm within your soul now attached to your own Shroud separate from my own.”
“Is that kind of thing...do I really have enough magic for that?” Ivan asked.
“Come now Ivan. You've read enough now to realize magic weapons such as these are simply levers for your magic. In its true form Quixla's dagger is no mean and simple dungeon looted item, but a devastating and deadly blade. It is the same with the Shroud. In your hands they are but carefully designed levers, tools, of which you only have so much strength to use and yet provide function beyond what your own hands might manage. As you grow Quixla's lovely dagger and my Shroud will grow with your strength in magic as you conjure them, each time projecting them with more and more mana, until one day when the items you create are little different from what they were in our lives.” Samiel said with another rolling chuckle that sent sheets of ice down Ivan's spine.
“Right. You're right.” Ivan said, panting and feeling a little bit foolish. He bent his head low in a bow as his thoughts came together with the new information and what Penelope had told him before. “Thank you Samiel.”
Samiel seemed stunned for a moment before his visage changed slowly in the darkness. A genuine smile appeared on his face.
“You're very welcome Ivan.” He said in a voice so strangely normal that for a moment Ivan considered if he was suddenly talking to someone else. “Now with a little effort you should be able to figure out how to exit the shadows. It is as simple as willing yourself to step into the light. The next steps after will be harder, but for now you are safe. Try your best to learn to summon the Shroud at will, and to bring Penelope into it as a creature of shadow herself. You will gain great power with her put willingly inside. She will be able to speak to you without others hearing, and you will be able to wield her magic and senses as if it were your own as long as she wills it.”
“And expose me to her corruption.” Ivan added nodding.
Samiel considered him for a moment before nodding in turn.
“Yes. But considerably less so now that you've bonded with my gift. The Shroud is not a simple magic item. It cannot be taken from you. It can be destroyed in its current iteration, but even that is not the end as long as you survive to conjure it again. It is a Divine Level Magic Item Ivan and will serve you well. It was always meant for mortals to use, to shield, and guide them though like myself it has been twisted.” Samiel told him.
“Can't you take it from me?” Ivan asked.
Samiel laughed softly.
“No Ivan. At least not without killing you first. Demonic gifts do not work in the same way as Title Jobs, or Divine Gifts. It is why they corrupt those who use them. It changes you because it is truly part of you now. Irredeemable. It is why for some time yet you will have to use ritual means to summon Quixla's dagger. Like most mid level demons she must be sparing in granting gifts to gain as many offerings from a single conjurer as she can as it takes precious energy to grant them anything. Though that makes her easy to please if you are eager and regular in your gifts to her. I have gifted you the Shroud as your patron Elder Demon as part of our greater and more deadly compact. This is but the first part of a greater bargain to see you through to your end goal.” Samiel explained, and again quietly. His gentle voice carried all the more weight now that it had suddenly lost its menace and flair.
Ivan's mind ran through a stream of memories and thoughts as he heard the Devil's words. He hung his head and heard the small almost silent voice in his head accusing him and putting name to his various crimes. For a moment he considered the powerful demon he was talking to, and the hurt he had put so many people through, but even then it was only that small voice that saw them as people. Ivan had seen what the Followers of Light chose to be, and why they followed their cruel God. Yet try as he might for the moment the catharsis of the fight settling over him he couldn't summon his anger.
He just felt the loss of his family and friends. -His teachers and beloved adoptive parents. Tears seemed to pour from his eyes as he remembered Jen and Ral, his squires and little adoptive siblings who wanted to heal and help just like he did. Images of their broken bodies appeared in his head that would remain forever burned into memory forever coloring his thoughts as if his mind had been stained by their deaths. For a moment he lost sense of himself in that pain and his mind was consumed by the surroundings his heart had conjured within the magic of the Shroud. It was worse than any injury he had ever suffered. He would willingly do any other harm to himself before experiencing anything like that again. And yet part of him still hoped.
He suddenly didn't want Samiel to leave, and his brain worked furiously for questions to ask the deity of dark power. Not for true answers, but for some kind of companionship. He felt so alone. So much more alone than he had ever known. The presence of his Goddess was gone from his mind, her touch absent from the corners of his soul, and always there was the lingering shadow of memory threatening his sanity. The fever dry skin of Tanya's body under his hand was burned like a thousand hot irons into his mind.
Meanwhile, or at least at some point, Samiel had stepped forward, and was now beside Ivan in the absolute darkness of the Shroud. He knelt beside Ivan with a soft sigh.
“Mortal life is tragic and beautiful. It's a sadistic play controlled by those with power. Of all the means of creation that is always something I have found true. Only with more power can you change that. Go now and find Penelope, she will care for you, and lead you away from this place. You will face challenges ahead, but you have the tools you will need now. Go and grow stronger. Gather to you those who feel the same pain that lingers in your heart now, and turn them against the Light. You will need them to overturn the nation of Zealots against you. Go and avenge your family.” The Devil said, encouraging Ivan with a gentle tone of voice.
Ivan took heart in his words. He could feel the power of the Shroud; its magic, while almost all entirely defensive, was exactly the shield he was missing from his own combat abilities. He could hide his corruption, and his summoned demon. Not to mention he could disappear and travel easily with it once he mastered moving through shadows. He could feel its potential like the Divine Gift Istania had once given him, but unlike the divine gift the Shroud felt open. It wasn't filled with Istania's healing potential which at the time had been all Ivan wanted. The Shroud was flexible, changing, and though it was still fresh and new already it felt as if the power itself had no seams; it truly felt as if the Shroud was part of himself, and as Samiel himself had said, a sort of lever that when properly used would give Ivan great strength that came from himself alone.
Ivan nodded.
“So..do I just...” Ivan began, his voice rather husky. “Just step out into the light to exit the shadow?”
He needed to move. For so many reasons.
Samiel grinned, showing predatory teeth again.
“No, its rather more jumping from one shadow to the next. The one weakness of the Shroud comes with the ability to trap the user inside the shadow. If you were to jump into a shadow too small for you to step back with no way into another you would be trapped. So be wary of that, at least until you can conjure shadows into the light with magic or the Shroud itself.”
“Right.” Ivan said nodding.
Then with as little effort as lifting his own hand he was able to step back into the shed. The passage felt strange and exhilarating. He felt the heavy leather material of the Shroud settle gently on his back.
He wondered if it had a hood, and with just that thought alone smooth dark gray leather glided over his head with the leather moving with liquid grace to do so. He was under the heavy cowl now, and the shadows of the shed and the cloak gave him sudden comfort. It was the power of the Shroud in its element, being in the shade when it was most able to work its power and change its shape.
With another thought he wished the cloak was gone and it went. Its whole length covering him as a proper cloak disappeared before he was able to bring his hand from his side to his collar. There was no clasp or broach, no sign of the item at all. With another thought he brought it back, and felt its almost liquid leathery length enclose his person once more. He reflected on the sensations he had felt toying with the new conjuration and realized he was spending some little bits of mana to play with it. Yet it was not even so much as his Conjure Scroll ability. With sadness he thought of how Tanya would have loved the cloak and its ability to so easily change its shape and size.
He opened the door to the shed and was caught by surprise as a female form crashed into him gently. Her horns were enough of a give away to stop him from panicking, but the demon laughed too as she came in close.
She giggled and made pleased sounds against his chest. He wasn't really in the mood for her flirtations, but as she put her arms gently around him he begrudgingly let his arms go around her in turn. Her soft body pressed against him and the cool chainmail hauberk he wore with the tabard of its covering ripped away by the fighting.
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“You have it. I felt it when he gave it to you.” She giggled before finally lifting her head to look up at him.
Her smile turned teasing as she moved her hips to somehow point out the hand that touched there, but Ivan didn't pull away. With his other hand he ran his fingers up Penelope's exposed back. The Demon stood straighter as his hand moved and her eyes went from focused to wide. Ivan gulped and felt his heart start racing a little as her sharp and heady animal scent hit his nose, but kept himself steady otherwise.
“Thank you Penelope.” He said softly, feeling heat rise in his cheeks as he did.
Penelope looked toward him with unfocused eyes again, but her smile widened.
“Was that what that was? A thank you?” She laughed in a breathy and softly sultry voice. “Ivan, you gain significant power to resist my touch and the first thing you do is touch me. You're a dangerous boy I think. I'll have to be careful around you or I'll be the one who's charmed.” She went on, finishing with a soft and girlish giggle that made the heat in Ivan's cheeks spread down through his chest.
He was suddenly very aware that the door to the shed was still open, and the deeper shadows behind him seemed inviting and warm. He could easily bring her back through. She was pleased with him. She might like it if he put her to the ground and...No. He had to move. He had other hungers to see to.
“The villagers are asleep? They aren't harmed?” Ivan asked instead.
She shifted her hips and leaned into him, making sure that he knew she was fully aware of his own body's eagerness. Yet her eyes focused and she put on her regular smile again for him.
“Of course. It's what you ordered, master. Sleep magic will always put a succubus's first school of magic, that or other mind manipulating spells. They will stay asleep until I let the magic fade.” She said. Ivan looked at her for a moment, thoughts rolling in his head, and she tilted her head showing interest.
“What?”
“It's nothing.” Ivan said. “I was just wondering, why is sleep magic the first to learn for your kind? And also how are you born?” Those thoughts were better to entertain than lingering on the memories that just wanted to make him weep. He was relishing the progress getting the Shroud made him feel. It was a sign that he might actually be getting somewhere, but even those thoughts became muddled in complex and tiring emotions he had no want for just now.
Penelope was there, soft, pliant, and as distracting as ever. Her eager playfulness made her easy to talk to, and even just flirting and indulging her made him something more than just hollow inside.
“The easiest way for a new succubus to feed without being caught is to devour the lusty dreams of young men and women. It's fun in a way, dipping into the dream, turning things up a little, and then sucking away some of their life force. You will probably need to do something like that soon in fact.” She said, grinning all the more as she gently poked his chest with one finger.
Ivan started, and Penelope made a soft sound as his hand tightened on her.
She leaned close, her shadowing horns going up in dark, light-less flames as they shrunk to fit her needs. He stared at that too, but she was giggling again soon enough.
“You didn't realize?” She asked.
“Realize what?” Ivan asked, simply following her conversation as his mind tried to pull apart what she meant.
“Your exposure to me. You've been resisting really well, but already you're becoming more like me.” She said with a grin that split wide enough to show in her voice. Her dark eyes glittered within their amber rings of color. “You're going to become some kind of incubus soon. Slower now with the Shroud, but it will happen. The first living one to ever take a step on this world.”
“An Incubus?” Ivan asked lamely, but her eager smile looking up at him was too pleasant to look away from. A little devilish urge in the back of his mind had him moving his one hand up the small of her back from her hips, and gliding the other down be just about level with the other.
The soft sound that came from her was mirrored by the soft touch of her hands and fingers as they passed his face on the way to close together at the back of his neck. Penelope shuddered against him, and the heat of her body seemed to increase to some detectable degree. The scent of her filled his nose again, but didn't cloud his mind as it did before. It just made him...--He colored furiously, heat washing over his face in waves, but that just made Penelope giggle again.
“Yes...” She whispered like she was looking upon a new found treasure. She was having trouble focusing her eyes on him. They kept shifting, going wide, and then focusing again. Her short goat like tail was moving, a small and tantalizing distraction in the dark, and she was standing as straight as she could to bring her face closer to his. She wasn't far off from a kiss now. All Ivan would have to do was lean down and put his lips to hers. Hers were already parted and waiting. The memory of her taste filled his mind, and other thoughts ran through him like fire, but finally he managed to push her away.
“I need something to eat. It feels like it's been days with only water.” Ivan said.
Penelope giggled as he adjusted himself before heading into the village. His eyes didn't see the ruined bodies of the militia men where they lay except to count them out of habit for the blood ritual. This village made syrup and had a few animals. From the looks of it they had no general trading store, but there was a healer's shop, and an Inn. He went into the Inn first.
There he found spare clothes, food that he ate, and the facilities to wash himself. The stout inkeeper and his wife lay sleeping on the floor of the large kitchen. There was one patron who was asleep in spite of his large mug of ale that had spilled into his lap and soaked his pants and the floor around him. Ivan found Innkeeper’s daughter, a girl of about his age, near what looked to have been laundry she was doing before getting up after hearing the noise.
She was pretty with long brown hair, and a slightly rounded face. He could imagine that she could manage a pout almost as great as Tanya's. Like before with Penelope dark urges surrounded the back of his thoughts, but he kept them away from the girl. He had seen space where the now missing shrine to Istania had been in the common room. The girl had no talisman around her neck, but there was a pouch at her belt that Ivan found did contain a small wooden carving of the faith of Istania. He had seen and made many of the kind before.
He lifted the girl gently, and put her in a more restful position than simply sprawled on the cold stone floor of the hallway leading to the Inn's laundry room. Then he made use of the still slightly warm and soapy water to wash his old clothes, though that was mostly just for the good pair of socks and underpants. Before he left the washroom and the Inn behind he cast a dry bed sheet over the girl, and tucked a soft towel under her head.
“You could try it, you know.” Penelope said, appearing like a shadow at his side. “No one will know. She won't wake and won't remember a thing and it’s not like you’ll be hurting her very much at all.”
He gave her a disgusted look. Her playful smile meant this was more of her teasing, but it couldn't be in worse taste. She just grinned at him all the more.
“Even if I'm becoming this...-whatever you think- I won't prey on anyone who hasn't done anything wrong. She was a follower, or at least paid heed, to my Goddess. I won't betray that.” Ivan said. He lifted the sheet to make sure the pouch with the small Caduceus carving was secure, and then tucked the girl in again. But he couldn't make himself stand right away.
It was suddenly so strange seeing someone so vulnerable like that. It made something in him see it as a weakness to be exploited, but he firmly pushed it away with a little mental effort. He would kill Followers of the Light, but these people were innocent and not to be hunted. He stood and turned away with Penelope following close behind.
He made his way to the Healer's shop. The wife of the old couple inside was still in bed, but the husband had gotten up with the noise from outside, and fallen when Penelope spread her sleeping spell over the houses. He had a split near his temple that was slowly drying out and scabbing over already. Elves benefited from increased natural regeneration, but the wound still needed some tending.
Ivan hefted him up easily, and put the old fellow back into bed with his wife. He went into their shop and lit a lantern to make his way around. He found a stout little traveling bag among their things and got a number of things together and packed them away with some food taken from the Inn before returning to the bedroom.
Penelope watched him as he cleaned and applied an ointment to the wound on the man's head. She hung in the shadows away from the lantern's light and said nothing as he worked. When he was done he turned out the lantern and returned it to the bedside table where he had found it. He shut and closed the shop before leaving, all the while mindful of Penelope's gaze.
The two healers were elves luckily enough and what shrines they had were dedicated to Rokke, but their shop had been turned around in some kind of search from the look of things. There was too much slightly out of place, like they had an hour or two to fix things, before both went to bed. At least until Ivan showed up.
Penelope caught his arm as he was about to leave.
“A thief rarely takes only what he needs, and would never leave coin behind when he has so little himself. You will be able to hide yourself among people now. You'll need money.” She told him.
He paused and looked at her. She gave him a sad smile.
“Do I really need the thief job? I can fight with almost any weapon, and stretch the weapon requirements of most martial skills already. Is the thief really going to help me that much?” Ivan asked, though he knew the answer already. He just didn’t want to admit it.
Penelope nodded and came to his side. Her hands gently took his forearm and led him behind the store counter. There was a small lock box hidden away on the low shelf.
“The journey to kill a god, especially when it will be known to that God sooner rather than later, will lead you down a path where it will be necessary to hide. If they figure out you survived by going to the parish they will be at least looking for a knight. Becoming a thief not only will give you the skills to hide, but a reason to hide while offering an explanation of why inspection magic will no longer identify everything about you. It is necessary because you need to interact with others to grow stronger. The fastest way in your world has always been the dungeons. You will need to go there, and not be recognized as the fighter you once were.” Penelope explained, though he already knew this. She was patient with him however.
The dark orbs of her eyes were haunting with their appearance of genuine kindness, even as they changed and shifted their shape so unnaturally. Part of him still very much wanted to push her away, but there was just as much in him that wanted to totally give in. She was like those most sinister of monsters, like Mermaids, Sirens, Snow Maidens, and some rare breeds of Mimic and Doppelgangers, including the deadly Giant Desert Angler Worm that could speak and act just like any person to lure people into its maw.
Penelope was made to be enticing. Everything from her scent to her wild and fae appearance was designed to lure men in as much as a mountain lion's claws and fangs worked together with its long and powerful body to hunt prey. Even if she had horns and claws for just that herself as well. Still she wore her nakedness like armor. She knew what it did to foes who looked upon her, and all the worse if her scent hit them first.
Ivan had watched her lure men away from their patrol one by one. Even as Followers of the Light once caught unaware they would willingly step into the shadow upon seeing her form and catching her scent. Their hands would seek her instead of their weapons, and they would go blindly into the dark caught by the amber rings of her eyes. At least until Ivan had struck, but that in no way gave Ivan any ideas that Penelope couldn't defend herself.
She had various shadow magics. Her claws when extended could cut unenchanted steel with the ease of an overly sharpened bread knife through butter. Ivan was certain that something about her horns could reach into the shadows and rip people into them, consuming whatever light and energy they had. And she had something else; something like a shadowy aura she could emit at will, even when exposed to light. When she used it shadows would spread from her like inky darkness given flesh. It made looking at her difficult, but for some reason now he was thinking about that in a new light.
He wanted to run his fingers through that living absolute darkness she summoned and let it flow over his hands and body. It was a powerful instinctual sensation that once more brought Tanya to his mind. It reminded him of the desire that had filled him when Tanya took his hand, and snuck around a corner with him; it was the very same kind of desire. To touch and be touched. An intimate and very personal act they would both enjoy.
Ivan gulped and bent to the lockbox bolted down into the wood of the counter fully aware of Penelope's reaction. She had a very high Insight attribute as a succubus, and had obviously picked up on the sensation of sexually adjacent hunger that had just rolled over Ivan. Her fingers found his shoulders, touched and played with his hair, and plied a soft grip on the muscle there that seemed to beg for his attention.
He did his best to ignore the soft lovers caress of her hands and thrust Quixla's dagger into the opening of the lock-face. The bolt and hasp came apart under the magically potent steel blade with a spray of sparks and he was inside. He took what gold was there and stood feeling strange, wooden, and alien in his movements.
His mind was still filled with strange sensations. The dark didn't seem to hide so much from his vision any longer. Darkness that had once filled him with uncertainty seemed inviting and welcoming. There was something undeniably similar now between him and Penelope that tickled at his senses. Knowing she was there to manipulate and change the darkness with him gave him confidence and certainty like he had not experienced with her before.
When he thought about it he thought he could feel the bond of the very basic blood ritual that tied them together. His scribe ability could identify that effect as well so he understood what he felt was real, but after getting the Shroud he felt closer to her than before. She let out a soft giggle and fell against his back softly. He knew the effect of her horns now, it was something his new link to the Shroud gave him a liking for. It made him aware that she embraced him now as a physical representation of stepping into his shadow.
He stood still with one hand on the counter. He had been ready to leave. He had the Shroud. He had money in hand, and knew more or less where he was headed. Yet like Tanya had from time to time Penelope seemed to enjoy slowing him down and teasing him into a more moderate pace.
“Ivaaaannn....” Penelope hummed softly against his back. Her hands around his middle played and threatened with the line of his belt. It was a hollow flirtation until she actually got under the hauberk, but that didn't mean it wasn't distracting.
Ivan turned enough to look at her. She was leaning into his back, her horns gently pressed into his armor, and her gaze flickered back to something Ivan had ignored in the lock box. He sighed and peeled her hands from him once again. He knelt and took up the other item stored inside with the coins.
It was a jade mortar and pestle that was shot through with some kind of silver ore. By its design and material it was obvious what it was. Ivan had thought it enough to steal the coin, but magic item that was likely the core of the couple's success was another thing. Penelope pressed him though. He took up the old item and shoved it into his bag and was glaring at her when he felt the barest urge to display his Scroll from his Scribe Job.
He did so, and it appeared, the red now turned to a deep shade of scarlet like blood, and the letters all the more seeming to try to devour any light that touched them.
A special action has caused you to gain the Job: Thief. You meet the requirements for several of its skills and have gained a small attribute bonus to your Insight, Dexterity, and Agility.
Thief Level 1 Skills: Steal, Sneak, Small Blades Expertise I, Faster Sprint I
Acquiring new skills has caused your Amateur Assassin Job to manifest several skills.
New Amateur Assassin Level 1 Skills: Back Stab, Assassinate, Imbue Small Blade: Poison, Improved Poisons II, Conjure Deadly Poison, Conjure Crippling Poison.
Note: Amateur Assassin has various material requirements for its conjuration abilities that may be stored and consumed inside the users personal dimensional space. Doing so may inquire a small mana cost however.
“Dimensional Space?” Ivan asked aloud.
Penelope nodded.
“Yup. The Shroud counts as one of those. Since your Scribe Job knows about it someone else on your world must have found out about that first. Handy.” She commented.
“These poisons...” Ivan mumbled, his thoughts whirling around the new possibilities.
He drew his sword, and stowed Quixla's dagger back in his belt before stepping up to the stores various shelves filled with dried, bottled, and potted herbs. He found what he needed before simply crushing the herbs in his hands and using a little bit of mana.
The ability activated. The herbs in his hands vanished in a puff of greenish smoke that faded like ghostly mist, and his blade, a Knight's Longsword, hummed and glowed with the same color for a moment. Thereafter it appeared only to glisten as though it were freshly oiled, but Ivan knew. The Knight's Longsword was a very basic magic item and nowhere in the realm of the mortar and pestle he had just stolen, or even close to Quixla's Bloodletting Dagger. However his Adaptive Fighting had stretched out again removing the dagger requirement that was usually attached to the Imbue Poison. Conjure Deadly Poison was another ability that once might have amazed him by simply bypassing the need to grind, mix, and usually cook or steep a poison to the correct dose. Had he been wanting the most effect he would have used the magic mortar and pestle together with his initial conjuration of the poison to boost it, but that wasn't the point right now.
He closed his eyes tightly and tried to control his suddenly roiling emotions as a quiet revelation came over his mind. Slowly he opened them again and went about the shelves once more. He found what he needed in ample supply.
At the counter he put the leaves of a common weed with sticky bulbs called 'Milk Cotton' by most people he had known, and shavings of mold from the withered root of a common garden plant in the mortar. He mixed in just a small splash of water, and worked the pestle with a practiced motion.
“What are you making?” Penelope asked, voice eager and curious.
As always she was right at his side. He tried not to pay her or the threatening tears in his eyes any attention. He finished the grinding and after a moment took a sniff of the pale green paste he had made. Its sharp scent was about right. His Conjured Scroll floating over the counter ran with text as Ivan felt the mana for another ability leave him.
You have used a magic item to properly synthesize a potent Anti-Bacterial Wound Binding Agent. The item has given it enhanced properties and healing effects.
You have gained the Hedge Doctor Skill of Conjure Herbal Medicine, and advanced Better Remedies to Level 2.
“Oh Ivan...” Penelope whispered, her voice filled with soft warmth and her hands reaching for his forearm.
Yet she still jumped when Ivan slammed the table with his fists so hard that the solid wooden counter top splintered. The magic mortar and pestle in his hands were unharmed. It would take a greater blow than he could manage to even scratch them. Yet that did not abate his anger.
A growling sob ripped from him and he fell to his knees leaning into the store counter. He slammed his forehead into the counter so hard that stars flew in his vision and blood ran down his face. Angry and bitter sobs continued to rip from him for a time before he forced himself to stand.
Even then Penelope had to help him as he was still dizzy from pounding his own head into the solid wooden countertop. He staggered away into the dark following her lead for a time as his thoughts were too much a haze of red anger for him to think or see. He wanted to kill. He wanted to feel the hot blood of those who had stolen Tanya and his peaceful gentle life with his little family away from him. He wanted vengeance and carnage. Yet all his rage seemed to do was worsen his already pounding headache. He had no idea how long it went on.
He tore away from Penelope somewhere in the forest. Dawn was coming soon. He nearly fell against a tree before he had his feet and he turned on her. With his lingering anger fueling his mind he grabbed her by the throat and practically slammed her into the next tree. Regret and a hot and awful mix of other emotions rolled over him. He knew he just wanted someone to blame. There was nothing she had done. She had only been helping him since he brought her here. There was no reason to be angry with her.
“Sorry. I-- I'm...” He said, clawing at his still aching head with one hand as moved his other from her throat to her shoulder. He lost his balance, and felt her hands catch his arm and clothes to keep him mostly upright as he fell to his knees. “You're the last person. The last one I should...” He tried, but he was still half growling and half sobbing.
“Shhhhh....” She whispered, moving her hands toward him.
Her fingers ran through his hair and gently over his shoulders until she was able to gently bring his head against her belly. Her skin was intoxicating to the touch and Ivan leaned into her. Her touch seemed to bring the agony of the throbbing pain of head to heel, and her skin was cool and soft compared to the heat of his face.
“Shush now Ivan. You've been through so much and have kept yourself moving so far. There's a long road ahead; you're still very hurt and even your rage needs rest. Shush now... Shhh...Ivan.” She whispered again. Her fingers worked, gently prying some of the tension out of his scalp and keeping at least part of his face pressed to her at all times. He couldn't imagine pulling away from her touch now that he was so close and feeling so weak.
It was like being drowned in her presence. Her voice. Her scent. Even the soft feel of her silky smooth and luxurious fur covering her thighs made him feel like she had a funnel that was pouring warm honey ale into his mind to put out the burning flames of his anger. That was made all the worse as he found himself kissing the soft skin of her midriff, and trying his tongue in the small hollow of muscle just below her belly button.
“Ivan...”
She had been whispering to him and shushing him still, begging him to just sleep, but now she was just making soft sounds that rang flooded and haunted his ears with their sweet noise. He moved his arms, lifting her legs and bringing her gently down to him as he forced her balance from her feet to her grip on him.
He tasted the sweet curve of her belly as she came down all the way to the valley of her breasts and felt her hands take up his head by the ears and hair.
“Ivan...” She seemed to be begging and breathless.
Ivan was lost in a sweet half dream where this creature before him was his sweet and innocent Tanya. Penelope's clawed fingers dug gently at his scalp as his lips made their way up her neck and along the bottom of her jaw. A sea of black comfort washed over them both as she clenched his head tightly against her shoulder. Waves of sleep washed over him and sensations between the dream and reality blended into a pleasant haze of vague warmth hidden within the darkest shadows of his mind.