“Here, how about this?” Myrn asked, pulling Ivan deeper into the shop stalls.

She pulled up a leather coat of plates. It had no sleeves and was suitably light for its size, but would protect his vitals from serious injury. Ivan looked over the piece. It was suitably dark, and would blend in with shadow or forest easily enough. Luckily it was about his size as well.

He shook it violently a few times, testing it for noise, and it made little other than the expected creaking of newly made leather material. Ivan inspected it a little further, checking its straps and putting the strength of his thumb into the steel of the buckles to check their durability.

Finally he opened his hand and chanted; “Inspect Object.” His scroll appeared and mana drained from him in a little rush as the magic ran through the item. The shop keeper, who had been heading their way, quickened his pace now to be at their side.

Inspect Object: Armor, Inspection Successful

A Leather Brigandine of passing quality in the 'Long Vest' Pattern commonly called a Coat of Plates. An uninspired, but traditional work of protective gear with no enchantments or special decoration. The Leather is tanned Domesticated Bison, and the Steel used in the piece is moderately high quality and suitable for use in armor. Prices for mundane work such as this vary from region to region in Ballenlight, but records suggest paying no more than 1 silver, and between 6 and 9 silver bits more.

Ivan and Myrn read the inspection and eyed the man's tag on the stand. It asked for two silver, three bits. Ivan let the man see the scroll and his shoulders slumped.

“Let me try it on, and give me a tin of oil to see to its care, and I'll pay you two silver.” Ivan offered with Myrn hung on his arm, smiling and watching the man.

She lifted her scarlet eyebrows at him a few times.

“You're that Owlfeather clan girl...” He mumbled, and looked over Ivan. “And you're that Isaac that's been helping people by the looks of you and her on your arm. I suppose you'll need it if you've really charmed this one like they say. Watch for her father when he gets back. Everyone knows she's his little girl.”

Myrn beamed at the man as Ivan undid the straps and threw the armor over his chest. He was of an average size so most things tended to fit him. It was nice. This was much the same case. He checked his full range of movement and with a little breaking in he could even bend at the middle with no problem. He nodded and fished out his coin.

The man gave him a slightly sour look, but the coins were whole and he took them readily enough. He strode away and came back with a small towel and a glass vial of oil.

“A little bit goes a long way. Clean it with a little water if you get all sorts of messy, but don't let it sit on there. Wipe it down, and get it dry, and give it this oil every time you clean it, or once every month. A little goes a long way, remember.” He said, and Ivan smiled at him.

The man blinked as Ivan tucked it away with the ease of a sleight of hand trick.

“Do you have other smaller leather goods? Fighting gloves – or gauntlets, and good boots?” Ivan asked, for emphasis he showed the man the hard beaten sides of the boots on his feet.

The man grunted, glanced at where he had seen Ivan's heavy coin purse, and then nodded.

“Back this way.”

Ivan was sitting on a stool trying on the various fits of pre-made boots the owner had in store. The little leather shop seemed to display a number of goods from various smith's, cobblers, tanners, and tailors. There was protective light clothing, padding, and all sorts of accessory gear back here. Nearly all of it was mundane that sat upon the shelves, but some pieces were enchanted, here and there. Those more expensive pieces sat in enchanted glass cases with strong magic locks, and a good number lay out of reach seen only through a window of very solid steel bars. They were lined in neat racks back there behind a locked iron door.

Ivan found a pair with a good fit and feel and worked on getting on the other boot. Looking at his ragged and worn out socks he reached over and grabbed a new pair from a low shelf nearby and set them down next to the thick leather gauntlets he had picked out.

Myrn was window shopping for the most part, but played with a thing now and then. A shop apprentice watched over them now as the Shopkeeper dealt with another customer. Myrn smiled at the boy and waved at him, making him blush.

She laughed and came to take Ivan's seat as he stood. Ivan took a few steps in the boots, kicked the floor a little to settle them. He checked the laces one more time and nodded.

“Mind if I just keep wearing them?” Ivan asked the boy.

“I know their mark. Your other pair...” The boy asked curiously.

“Use them for scrap if you can. I have no use for them.” Ivan admitted.

The boy laughed, but came close and retrieved the boots. He grimaced as he lifted them, and looked at their soles.

“Oh. I see. Maybe there's something that my teacher can do with his magic. I'm not sure. These are pretty far gone.” The boy said with a frown. Ivan got the feeling from his Insight that the boy was going to try to sell him a repair job.

“If he can manage to mend that, let me know next time you see me so I can see the work. Maybe I can just switch between two good pairs instead of buying new.” Ivan offered.

The boy grinned.

“Of course sir.”

Ivan paid with his winnings from the other night and went out back into the busy and famed Old Oak Avenue of Dentennek. The street ran the whole way up to the Dungeon gate, and there wasn't a single space not used for a shop, an Inn, food stall, or some other amenity. Andy, Marvin, and Davian were in one of those shops hopefully finding the Bard something he could stand wearing.

“You're looking pretty good now. Good thing I struck early.” Myrn said idly, after taking him in. They were turning and slowly making their way down the street.

She grinned at him when he met her gaze.

Ivan looked her over in turn. She was looking good in her gear, leather pants, light armor in the form of thick and hardened leather plates on a soft sheet of more pliant material. The brocaded designs on the outside of her thighs were designed to hide the thick leather plates. She wore what she called 'Archer's Gauntlets' that protected the whole of her arm like a vambrace with more plates of hardened leather atop softer, though the true hand protection was just extensions of the arm plates fitted carefully atop the front and back of the palm. The rest of the hand was protected by custom leather gloves. That the item was all one piece and was very neat, but Ivan preferred a typical vambrace if it came to that.

For now all that he wore that would really stop any blade was the armor on his chest. His plan was mostly not to be seen, and then he was to move fast and overwhelm anything that came at him. Where he used to fight out in the open like Marvin and Andy he would be in the shadows now and only strike when his foes were occupied. He felt no shame doing this, and the freedom of movement he felt in a fight wearing little armor at all...it was amazing.

Even back when he had fought that Hexapod on his own it had been exhilarating. There was nothing between him and swift bloody death but his own skill and the space between him and his enemy. With the numbers in agility he was gaining recently paired with the strength and overall attribute bonuses he felt more at home in his own body than ever before. He could move exactly how he wanted to, jump to surprising heights, and generally pull off any maneuver he wanted.

He was feeling that confidence when he took Myrn's hand and slipped her into a side street. She followed him, her eyes flashing and catching the look in his own. She laughed and came close to his side out of the main stretch of road and into the alley way. Ivan pulled her close, his cloak fluidly coming from his shoulders and draping over hers.

Myrn looked up at the sun outside the alleyway, her thoughts obviously on the heat of the day, but then the cloak's cool and comforting shadows laid over her. She smiled at him warmly and Ivan gently guided her by the hands until her back was against the wall. She was grinning before he closed and stole a few kisses from her.

“You're...good at that...” Myrn mumbled, pulling just away from his lips to speak before leaning back into him.

Ivan's plan to sneak away wasn't purposeless however. Neither was his use of the Shroud. In truth it was a targeted corruption, and second it was practice.

“You can feel it can't you Ivan? Her joy, the arousal? Breathe it in, taste it and know it.” Penelope said, coaching him from within the Shroud.

Ivan felt some little of his stamina being used, and his head ached some, but he could feel it as she was instructing.

“A near a public display like this has her excited. Your feeding- though shallow- is making those feelings more intense. It will drain her a little, but ultimately not harm her in the least. In fact based on what I'm feeling she can't believe she's letting you do this, and is about as horny as she was last night.” Penelope advised.

Ivan hardly had to listen, his instincts were telling him as much, but his focus was on kissing Myrn senseless. Her mind was broadcasting the intense satisfaction she felt at being so earnestly wanted after last night. Ivan made sure to reflect that desire with his own honest feelings as he 'breathed' in her intense feelings. Though his breath brought her scent to his nose it was nothing like breathing in Penelope's own, and this other breath was something else entirely.

Myrn was making quiet sounds against his mouth as he slipped open her belt and the first button with one hand as they kissed. At first her hips shied away, the kiss going on, but Ivan did Penelope's trick, breathing in and returning the arousal of her mind. She was pressing her back against the stone wall of whatever store backed the alley here, her legs apart, and hips angled forward to him so his fingers might give her some little satisfaction.

Like two younger lovers they fooled around that way until Myrn's legs shuddered and she drew her lips away from his with a violent gasp. She clung to him, and gave little chuckles as she hurriedly put her pants buttons and belt back together. She looked at him with desperate, horribly embarrassed eyes, but Ivan looked into her pretty eyes and gave her a warm slightly teasing smile.

She clung to her longbow, hung over her shoulder the whole time and looked about them. There was no one. Ivan had made sure of that, and had Penelope noticed anyone she would have spoken up about it. Myrn's face was red, and she didn't know what to say to Ivan.

“We should go find the others about now shouldn't we?” Ivan asked in a casual, and friendly tone.

Myrn nodded vigorously, but was smiling. She held out a hand to take his, but then gulped when she spotted his fingers. Ivan had his gauntlets tucked behind his belt and his sleeves rolled up against the midday heat as much as the Shroud helped keep him cool. It took her only a moment to gather up her usual confident and joyful manner though and take his hand. She still blushed deeply and leaned against his arm fondly, a few little giggles escaping her as they took to a rather casual pace and left the side street.

“Gods...what are you going to be like when you actually get Rogue to Level 10.” Myrn said then with a laugh. She looked at him, possibly a little frightened, amused, and somewhat concerned.

Ivan just winked at her, and she broke into a happy giggle.

“I'll just charm and take care of you as I please then.” He said.

“Me and all the other girls.” Myrn interjected with a pointed smile.

Ivan looked at her and shook his head sadly.

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“Only if they have eyes and hair as pretty as yours Myrn. Their...other assets will have to be comparable as well I think too.” Ivan said, with a sharp edge of mirth to the casualness of his tone.

“Perv...” Myrn said, but was pleased by the compliment.

“It's still only been so long since I lost someone very important to me Myrn.” Ivan said then, his voice gently reproving after his last statement. “I didn't really intend to start anything new, and had no thoughts on it. You're a friend though, and I like to think we understand each other in ways the others might not.”

Myrn gave him a serious look that still carried the warm tone of their conversation and nodded. Her hand squeezed tightly to his, and for a moment shame showed in her eyes if not to the senses of Ivan's Insight. Ivan squeezed her hand back. They walked on a little while until Myrn took control of the direction they were going. They entered a large side street instead of heading toward more of the shops, and went on some ways to the entrance of a large stone and brick building.

It was the only one in sight that didn't seem to have anyone moving in or out. Myrn kept their pace casual and they entered what seemed to be a manor's small bailey through a gate that hung open loosely. The lame way it hung open suggested, and the way the darkened windows gaped made the place look abandoned. Myrn's eyes went cold and her hand clenched Ivan's own with true high level strength. Ivan didn't flinch, but did need to remind Myrn to let up just a little.

“Sorry.” She said.

Ivan shook his head and looked about still holding her hands. Here and there the neat paving tiles of the bailey were broken up, and gnarled roots lay dry and tangled where they had been partially hacked away. The manor was dark, and closed up tight, but even days later there was a scent of blood on this place.

Ivan realized where they must be. Myrn's eyes were lost in the shadows of the awnings above them and her grip remained a solid iron vice on his hand.

Ivan let loose some of the possessive nearly demonic anger he felt at that moment. Myrn reacted as if he had suddenly growled, and stood closer to his side. Ivan made a little display of getting himself under control, and it wasn't very hard at all to act it out for how close to the truth it came. In his mind he remembered with perfect clarity the scar on Myrn's soul and mind he saw when his latent Incubus powers tried to reach into her. What he had been before as a Paladin and Knight combined with something in that new demonic nature and was enraged that anyone would dare hurt his friend. It didn't seem to matter to that new united part of his mind that he hadn't marked Myrn as his own then, and wouldn't have for years. Incredibly it seemed to demand that the men know not to touch what would be Ivan's.

The Shroud had reacted and flowed out to cover Myrn in Ivan’s moment of emotional difficulty. She took hold of Ivan's arm and welcomed the Shroud's billowing mass over her person. A point of pain rose above Ivan's left brow with his anger, but he ignored it and stayed standing there with Myrn.

“I killed them.” Myrn whispered, her emotions held down under a massive iron shield of will reflected in the strength of her grip.

“This is the home of the ones who drugged you?” Ivan asked.

“Their son, his parents, and their followers. They aren't real adventurers. Not for generations. But they like to act like they had the strength they once held. I showed them the error of that presumption.” Myrn said, her voice having become something cold and dead.

Myrn’s eyes glittered like a perfectly smooth mountain lake in winter. Her scarlet eyebrows hinted at the image created in Ivan’s mind like a frozen blood smear just off the shore of that frozen lake. Myrn’s anger was a quiet thing, like the anger of ever-greens when the weather grew too cold, and were about to burst.

Ivan didn't move and stared up at the darkened manor house crammed in the with the rest of the city.

“I have killed more than six dozen men of the militia, and almost half a dozen of the God of Light's priests.” Ivan answered in a whisper to her. “And I will not stop at that.”

Myrn held tight to his arm and hand. Ivan turned them back the way they came, his hand squeezing hers.

“My little brother...” Myrn snarled against his arm where she hunched against him.

Ivan nodded, the hood of Shroud over him, and its mantle expanded to cover Myrn. He looked about the street and kept them moving further in the maze of side streets and back ways.

Myrn was crying softly, half snarling with frustration, and her anger was escaping her grip on her emotions. It all read clear to Ivan through his Insight, Perception, and mundane human sense of empathy. He walked along with Myrn taking them far into the alley ways and places away from people.

Ivan eventually found an old dead end away from prying eyes, and brought Myrn to some old, too clean crates that sat against a wall where men who lived here probably diced late into the evenings. He sat with her in the shade for a little while, letting her calm down and sort her thoughts.

“When we're strong enough we'll get your parents back Myrn. We can hope things continue as they have been, but I've seen what they've done in other camps.” Ivan said consoling her.

She sniffled and nodded.

“They say...they say the Hero's making a lot of changes. Even last night I overheard people talking about the Militia and Army officials he hung for 'War Crimes and Deliberate Inhumane Practices'.” Myrn replied.

Ivan let out a bitter chuckle.

“Thomas is probably the only good person in the God of Light's forces.” He said, bitter as Rot Mint leaves.

Myrn looked up at him with a surprise, but still miserable expression.

“You know him?”

Ivan nodded.

“We've met a number of times. He seemed to like me...before...” Ivan admitted, and hung his head. Thinking about the God of Light at all made his head ache and his blood pressure rise.

“Is he as good of a person as they say?” Myrn asked, hope in her eyes.

“I had never doubted Theadus and his followers until they did what they did. I couldn't say.” Ivan replied, still bitter.

“They say he was sent away before the orders were given. Like Theadus knew Thomas would reject them, and gave him a task just to get him out of the way. I heard he was furious and marched right up to Theadus himself in the Capital, Light City.” Myrn said.

“That sounds like the Thomas I knew. They always said he was too gentle hearted.” Ivan replied, his voice troubled by the memories coming to mind.

“What is it?” Myrn asked.

“They always said I was too brutal and ruthless in combat to be one of her followers, let alone her knight. I think she liked that about me though. She always...” Ivan paused, struggling with himself a little as the truth begged to come from his lips.

“She always encouraged me to care and be passionate about the people around me. Even when I got angry. She always wanted me to use it and direct it in a way that I could use to help people.”

Myrn listened and nodded patiently, signaling her understanding, but they both grew quiet for a little time.

“I'm going to kill Theadus...” Ivan growled, and was startled by his own speaking.

Myrn heard, and looked at him very carefully. Her hand closed on his tightly, something buried under the hopelessness in her eyes.

“How could you even begin to...” She trailed off, her own thoughts cutting off her words as she no doubt considered what she knew. She seemed to go through various ideas before shaking her head.

Ivan very carefully considered what to do next. Penelope was silent, and very alert. Azalea was meditating patiently, a book in her hand, and had hardly moved since that morning.

Ivan drew out Quixla's dagger from the Shroud. Myrn eyed it, but was unafraid. Her eyes shone with the dark scarlet gleam of the blade in his hand. She touched the flat meat of the blade with one finger.

“I almost expected it to be wet.” She commented dryly.

She looked to Ivan carefully, and then to the Shroud about her shoulders. Ivan sat a little closer to her, and she leaned into him. She waited for him to explain.

“This isn't a magic item. It's conjured.” Ivan explained.

Myrn's eyes widened a little, and she gave the dagger another curious look.

“You're not an Artificer.” She said, working through her thoughts aloud.

“You haven't been in the Dungeon and earned a weapon like this through a Feat, or by looting a Magic Construct Pattern.” She went on, but then shook her head, giving up on further ideas she had.

“What is this then, if its conjured and you have it?”

“I have made a contract and several offerings to a being.” Ivan explained carefully.

Myrn watched him, understanding growing in her eyes.

“Something like that...a minor deity or?” She asked, leaving the question hanging.

Ivan reached into the Shroud once more and produced the Grimoire of Valhalzabub.

Myrn stared at it for a long moment and then up at him.

“Black Magic?” She asked, her voice a hesitant whisper.

Ivan hung his head, openly showing his guilt to her. He waited several moments hoping the gambit would play off, his heart starting to race as Myrn faced the facts he had given her.

To his surprise he felt her fingers glide across his cheek and turn his face toward her. He saw little of her as she kissed his mouth in a slow and passionate kiss.

“I told you...I've killed too Ivan...” She whispered between soft kisses. Her hand slid up his thigh from where she had been touching Quixla's dagger, and to his groin. “I'll admit I want...what I feel in you.” She whispered on.

Ivan kissed her, and stowed away the dangerous dagger and book to focus on Myrn a little more. Her tears came again as they kissed, but Ivan thought he knew them now.

“I've been so angry. When they tried to poison me...to take me...I was overcome by it. I liked it. I wanted more. I almost...” Myrn whispered to him. She struggled through a sobbing breath and went on. “I almost went down to the camps to free my parents-- to kill all of them who had turned a blade against my little brother..my friends in the churches...”

Ivan held her close as she fell against him and into his neck. His own anger was burning in sympathetic pain as more of her frustrated tears came.

“But I'm not...I'm not strong enough...” She admitted finally, her pain coming in a sobbing wave of tears and shame, and impotent anger. Ivan supported her and looked about the little dead end carefully.

“Ivan...you devilish brilliant young man.” Penelope said at once, and practically pranced into the shadows on the edge on the Shroud.

“We can fix that together Myrn. I will need help, a nation of my own really, to fight against Theadus. That all can start right here if you agree to help me and I will tell you everything. Show you everything...” Ivan whispered to her.

Myrn was still crying when Penelope returned within the Shroud. She held in her hands a book whose cover was human skin, and decorated with still living flowers. She was smiling ear to ear.

“There's a ritual to summon this Grimoire properly but for now just keep it within the Shroud. It will continue to exist within the bounds of its shade.” She instructed.

“But I don't...I just have the Plant Spark...” Myrn complained weakly, deep in her self pity now.

Ivan drew up her chin and gave her a soft kiss and smiled at her. When he drew away he held in his hand the book Penelope had run off to retrieve. The deep pools of refracted blue gems stones that were Myrn's eyes shone as she looked over the cover of the forbidden tome.

She was so enchanted that she didn't stop to question why Ivan would even have such a thing. She just flipped the page. Shadowy tendrils of Penelope's magic danced over the runes of the ancient pages and resolved to a Scroll of Translation. Myrn looked up at Ivan with curious eyes, with a tiny flame of some dark hope flickering within them.

“That wasn't your magic was it?” She asked.

Ivan shook his head, and gestured that she read the book instead. Myrn gave him a questioning look first, but turned her gaze back down to the mysterious book. She read, turning pages and directing the purple scroll over them with a touch of her finger. Her eyes shone with dangerous lights.

“Ivan...” she whispered. “This is a book of Demonic Floromancy. The things I could do with this...are unspeakable. I could summon things...do magic that could...” She trailed off and looked up at him.

There was nothing hiding the hopelessness Myrn had buried and tried to hide by drinking herself silly. She thought she had lost everything. The loss of her little brother and her inability to avenge his death had cored out her already wounded heart. Right then she wasn't the strong and capable woman Ivan had been charmed by, but a hurt and hollow being who was tired of being inadequate and abused by powers greater than her.

And he had just handed her a key to changing that. If she took the book and gained a teacher and guide such as Penelope she might save herself literal lifetimes of gaining power on her own.

Ivan put his forehead to hers, and stroked the loose hair from her face.

“We are not alone. There are those who would give us aid in exchange for the blood and souls of our enemies.” Ivan said to her in a gentle hiss.

Myrn's eyes focused on his, so close they were all she could see when she looked up at him. Ivan breathed in her sorrow and let it meld with his own. He touched his nose gently to hers and closed his eyes.

“I want to kill...only them...I want control not...” Myrn said in the barest whisper, giving voice to her darkest desires.

“There are demons who will fit your needs, Myrn.” Penelope's voice came from the shadows of the Shroud.

“Ancient beings who loved the worlds they once lived in when fire and industry turned their lands barren and dried up their rivers. They are old and as terrible as any of the guardian spirits you have met or seen within the lands of the Elves. And just as eager to live with people who love and understand the forest once again.”

Ivan opened his eyes and watched Myrn react to Penelope's voice. Her pupils dilated just listening to her.

“The woods here...are young...afraid of axes and fires. They have...something like nightmares....” Myrn said then, her voice raised just slightly.

“And they shouldn't.” Penelope purred.

“I try to comfort them, but they know the fear within me...” Myrn half sobbed. “They know what men do, and how little they care.”

“You could give them strength, Myrn. So much strength. Stay with Ivan and advance his plans. When you are ready we will have a guide for you to summon and bind to yourself just as I have come to guide and give strength to Ivan. Do not lose hope. Theadus will pay. Things will be right again, and the forests will sigh in relief when you walk them.” Penelope assured her.

“Ivan...” Myrn whispered, her emotional control coming back into rein, something within her strengthening.

“Yes?” He asked. He realized he may have made a mistake. Something in the tone of her voice tipped him off, and the way her aura retracted from his own.

“Are you what Theadus was afraid of? -like the rumors say?” She asked, her eyes hidden, but her hand tight on his own. Ivan couldn't be sure if he lost the gambit here, but knew his answer regardless.

“I have become what I am because of what he has done, Myrn. Because he gave his men the order to kill my entire family. Because he's done the same to thousands of others. That may become the truth to others in time, but I am what I am and will become what I must to kill him because of what he has done.” Ivan answered.

“Istania had no plans to...to..” Myrn asked, her voice still broken and small.

“My Goddess had only ever wanted one thing and that was to see her children grow and thrive. That was all she ever did, and why she stretched herself to the point of distraction to know all of our names and live at our sides.”

“So why do you have a book that's shown you how to summon demons? How did you know where to find it? How to use it?” Mryn asked.

Ivan's mind tripped over the question. He knew, or thought he knew, what to say, but the words slipped away from him as his mind tried to place his own true answer for that question. His increased Wisdom, Intelligence, and Mental Fortitude were aiding him here and he had to wonder. He withheld a response to search his mind.

How had he known? His mind burned just touching the memories. Even Azalea's torches pulsed with light at his thoughts, startling the young demon. Even Penelope eyed the blessed flames dubiously from her seat near Azalea within the Shroud. Myrn touched his face gently as he winced and held his head.

The more he tried to think about exactly why, the more the pain rose in his mind and it became harder and harder to think clearly.

Azalea was standing now, her iron rod and lamp in hand, and the other lanterns were flaring. Penelope was standing too, watching the darkness around Ivan with sharp wariness. Scarlet lightning flashed in the depths of shadow within the Shroud.

“Ivan.”

A moment of clarity. Sudden realization. Vengeance. Vengeance.

“Ivan!” Myrn repeated, shaking him.

Ivan came to breathing hard, and damp with sweat. Myrn was holding his head and keeping him upright. Ivan's head was aching, and his body ran with the heated chemical feeling of intense anger that was totally matched in his mind. Spittle soaked his mouth and he had bitten his cheek after going into some kind of spasm.

Myrn grabbed him into a deep hug and said nothing even after he caught his breath and when they walked back to the Inn.