Tilly steadied himself, slowly unfurling that ball of furious superiority that was his aura in this armor set. Brash confidence flooded the area immediately around him, he shoved down the niggling thought that without his [Resolute] Title he was a sitting duck for any insane power that wanted to clock him on a whim. He had seen firsthand that the legendary neutrality of the Auction House still held, but it wasn’t saving anyone from a sucker punch. Unlike the orc from the Defiant Fist… Tilly probably couldn’t regrow his rib cage in a matter of minutes.
Memories of death, destruction, and fire flooded his mind in the face of these doubts, not as foreign invaders, but as reminders of his capabilities Draconic Authority pulled on his subconscious, demanding the strength hidden under layers of self-doubt and depreciation. Thousands had been consumed in his flames, and enemies stronger than some of these present had been laid low before him. If any Corrupted thing tried to lay its hand on him, he would put as much fire into an overwhelming response as possible. He may not be the alpha of this group, but he was certainly not prey.
His mind oriented itself fully in opposition to those who would try and control him, before slowly rising above the fray entirely.
He would not fear, many here had no idea just how much of a threat he posed to their machinations, and he looked forward to burning those plans to the ground.
Even as contempt for his enemies was slowly layered over his soul in protection, part of Tilly was dismayed at how natural it felt on him. But after a few moments of settling into this metaphysical armor, he realized that he could uphold this mindset with focus, it would immediately begin to fade if not actively maintained. It was a temporary magnifier for some of the aspects of his soul… or at least that is what he would tell himself later. Now it was exactly what he needed to walk through a room full of mass murderers and act as if they were a waste of his time.
Tilly kept his aura tight, about three feet around him, and moved toward the door without hesitation. Mochizuki fell in beside him, shivering slightly as his presence washed over her. She clicked into place seamlessly with his own protections.
She was His, and no one would take from him what he owned.
The hall and the stairs were both empty, acting almost as a quiet pocket of dim peace, pierced only by the growing murmur of the hall as they descended the second story of stairs and moved toward the arched opening. Tilly did not slow, did not think. He just prowled into the room, taking in the tumultuous frenzy of meetings, greetings, and eating with flat, unconcerned eyes.
He was here to give his servant a chance to gather information, and while he would challenge none of these beings, he did not have to be overly concerned about who or what they encountered as long as he made sure they were seen and kept Mochizuki free to note each reaction of those they encountered.
Immediately to the left of their archway was a pair of gorgons with theater masks that seemed to function as dampeners for their stone gaze ability. They didn't look up from their conversation, but several of their snakes tracked him as he moved without pause into the maze of passages in between tables. His pace was slow, deliberately looking at nothing as he moved toward his chosen position.
He mostly avoided any others in the passageways, not wanting to be stopped by a random encounter. No, he wanted to be out in the open and draw in friend and foe alike. Many attendees were also flowing into the arena floor and Tilly idly noted that this break would be significantly more crowded than the last.
Slowing to a stop, Tilly looked down his nose at the assortment nearest his chosen position. The table was covered in whole roasted legs of… well all kinds of things. It seemed like the only theme of the table was ‘leg meat’; some of them even looked as if they smelled truly ripe, and Tilly took a silent moment to throw up a thought of gratitude to their hosts.
“Still no honey blossom wine… I swear they wait to the last break simply to vex me.” A gentle voice rose and fell just behind Tilly. He had felt nothing on his aura and fought to believe it was because whatever had approached him was beneath his concern, but even with the Dragon Emissary armor set, that was a stretch. He simply was unable to detect whatever was right behind him.
He turned in what he hoped was a smooth motion and raised an eyebrow while taking in the female figure that had positioned herself right behind him. She was made up entirely of pink flower petals that shifted and danced as if fluttering on a breeze while maintaining the same overall shape even as the form they composed changed its features.
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“And you are?” He asked cooly, the figure was already within his aural sphere, and Tilly could see Mochizuki two feet to the left of the petal woman standing stiffly with her eyes downcast.
A rolling vibration of petals accompanied a tittering laugh that was somehow girlish and womanly at the same time, “I am Elder Ash of the Ancient Grove, and my senses tell me we are related in some way, but you look more like a servant of the Sky than a child of the Land to me… Most curious.” She answered, taking him in with empty eyes.
“I am what I am,” Tilly said enigmatically.
“Hmmm, well little cousin, would you mind if I embraced you,” she asked casually. Tilly fought not to glance at Mochizuki and ran through his options. He knew of this Faction. The Ancient Grove was typically neutral in its stance between light and dark, and Tilly didn’t want to antagonize them out of hand… but what in the hell did ‘embrace’ mean?
At that moment he realized that despite his desire to maintain his simple guise as an obvious and very visible distraction for Mochizuki’s information-gathering mission, more would be required of him. It looked like he would have to follow his gut on this one.
As he stared at her, considering her request, the presence of her soul was disturbingly absent, but there was something… some distant sense of music about her that was all too familiar. He took a deep breath and leaned, “Do what you will, Elder, but I ask that you keep our interaction as subtle as possible.” He breathed as quietly as possible, all the while maintaining an impassive expression on his face.
She smiled in response, and her petal form broke apart, swirling in place momentarily before rushing around him in a tight circle. Not a single one made contact with his physical form, but the same was not true for his soul. For the first time, he felt a distant impression of her aura pressing in on his own. No that was not right, the aura was there, but it did not press, instead, it opened itself to him, simply revealing its nature fully.
Tilly was flooded with the feeling of ancient strength, and weathered patience. This unchanging existence was paradoxically paired with a deep submission to the seasons and a willingness to die and live again with each cycle, just as her nature demanded. She was unyielding and at the same time, constantly shifting.
In response to such a vulnerable offering, he felt his own defenses drop. He did not understand what was happening, but it felt like an honorable response to such an act. From the depths of his soul came a wounded cry of wild hope. It shouted in defiance of the infections spreading across the plane and at the same time, cried out in pain at the still-healing scars of his own internal brush with Corruption’s domination. He was laid bare before her, and she knew him for what he was.
Then the swirling petals were gone as if they had never been there and Tilly had to tense his shoulders to resist looking around to see if he could spot her. Instead, he brushed off his shoulder as if trying to remove a piece of detritus, and shifted down the table nonchalantly, pretending to consider a leg of meat for himself. On the outside, he was proud to say he likely looked vaguely annoyed, but on the inside, his psyche was reeling from the intimacy of the contact.
Then, at a level he could barely discern, the elder’s fleeting voice fluttered past his ear, “You may call me Riss, little cousin. Thank you for showing us what we face. The deeps will shatter and the children will rage when the time comes to throw off such shackles. We will stay free or destroy ourselves in the process. A silent few have been lost, but many still remember and will await the call.”
Tilly tried and failed to keep surprise from playing across his face as the voice faded away, sure that those words held a meaning far more significant than he was able to parse at the moment.
“I have never understood why their kind is allowed to send an Avatar and I am not…” came a voice from the other side of the table. Tilly looked up to find something that looked like a Velociraptor with humanoid hands, and elaborate robes, holding a haunch of something bloody. The dino wizard took a savage bite out of the dripping joint of meat, its eyes twinkling.
Maybe that was Tilly’s imagination, but it seemed like the figure was already playing a game far deeper than Tilly had the ability to read. Or not… he didn’t have much practice reading dinosaur facial expressions.
“Avatars have never much interested me,” Tilly answered belatedly, attempting to cover his pause by straightening his jacket.
“Hmm, well, I tried to send an animated pile of shit to the auction once as a representative… and the creatins here wouldn’t let me through the door. They had no clue just how much spellwork was involved to properly imbue the thing, and it was all wasted on their selective humor. Not that I would call the Auctioneer’s ravings anything close to humor, but I have found decent conversation amongst some of the others in their order, especially the artifact experts… Fascinating bunch.” The talkative raptor monologued in between dripping bites of unnamed meat, actually, he did not stop at just the meat, happily crunching through cartilage and bone to accent his statements.
The whole thing was so off-putting that it made it strangely easier for Tilly to lean into his persona, “Wonderful… now why are you bothering me?”
“Oh, just making small talk with the only person to have encountered a Dragon in a few centuries… And, between you and me, the last fellow was much more likely to have fought a wyrm than anything of the true heritage… But not you, definitely not you.” Then the creature took a deep sniff through his nose, “Yes, far too much blood involved for me to think you kept it to just talking…eh?”
At that, Tilly's suspicion of a knowing twinkle was fully confirmed and he decided to lean into what this creature thought he knew, “What I do in my role as an emissary is none of your business. But yes, as many have reasoned from recent announcements, the time of dragons has returned.” He snarled, biting off his explanation as if he had been reluctant to share.
Everything he had just said was utter bull, but he hoped they sounded juicy enough that this guy and anyone who was listening in would have plenty to chew on. Hopefully, they would even spread rumors that could distract from the truth. The raptor ate it up, his eyes sparkling like a cat eyeing a fresh fish fillet.
“I am called Rulak, some refer to me as the First Magnus, but few know anything of substance about one of my favorite areas of interest; the Scorch. I will tell you now, if you ever want to stop by the university to speak of such matters, I am sure a rich reward could be arranged.”