5th of June, 1198, 2:38am
The Ruins
Tihuta PassIt had been three weeks since they’d come to the pass and things were slowly starting to get moving. In that first week Vincent, Nadia, Willhelm and Joseph had all gone into the towns and procured day laborers and professionals for the project. Steeple and Lucien (when not toying with Barabus) had spent nearly every night in correspondence with other traders across the blasted land, attempting to get the supplies and manpower needed with the little funding available. Kiril, meanwhile, was in constant communication with the leaders of the five villages that surrounded the sight, smoothing over any trouble they may have caused with their presence and making preparations necessary to start taxing the spice and amber trade that made the pass so important and still they were finding that they were coming up short, having long ago dipped into their own funds.
Anton and Heldric had worked in tandem in keeping track of the surrounding countryside, the knight and the spy driving off some wild wolves in the night to keep the construction of the pass going on without delay.
As the others worked constantly at funding, keeping and powering the operation Sylvian stared at plans that had barely taken shape. While the tower he’d designed was aesthetically pleasing and would probably stand the test of time, it wasn’t a fortress. Its fortifications were lacking, as were its accommodations. Though he’d never admit it to the others, he couldn’t help but feel that he was in over his head. And to make matters worse he couldn’t help but feel that he was being watched. He scanned the area multiple times and was sure that no one was there, and yet he couldn’t shake that awful feeling… and then he saw it.
It was a statue, standing nearly six feet tall. It looked like a man. It was maybe a little too angular, its hands, clasped in front of him, were perhaps too long, but it looked like a man carved from granite. Someone had placed it in the shadow of the ruin that was being knocked down and had dressed it in a tunic and breaches; they’d even found a way to give it relatively realistic hair.
Sylvian was more disturbed than amused and was even more so when the statue began to move.
“Good Evening, My name is Zelios, I have been asked to help in the design of the Fortress that will stand on these ruins.” – The statue, called Zelios, said in Romanian.
Sylvian balked, before him stood a man whom he’d all but worshipped.
“Master Zelios, It is truly an honor.” – Sylvian, bowing
“What is your name?” – Zelios
“I am called Sylvian.”
“Truly? I’ve been meaning to contact you. I have heard great things about your talents. Come show me your plans.” – Zelios
Surprised by the elder master’s words Sylvian was at a loss and could not stop the Nosferatu from looking over his work.
“Beautiful. You have a good eye for this Sylvian. Come, we shall bring these while you give me a tour of the foundations.” – Zelios, taking up the plans as he moved.
Sylvian walked with Zelios around the foundation, down into the cellar, and into the secret room they’d been using as a haven, all the while Zelios made notes on the plans and asked a myriad of questions, only a quarter of which Sylvian had ever thought to ask himself.
For two nights they talked as they walked the ruins. Sylvian learned more than he could have imagined in such a short time but found that he knew far more than he thought. His designs, though flawed, were good. The master made a few changes to be sure, some utilitarian, some aesthetic, all beautiful. And with each pen stroke Sylvian learned.
While walking together Zelios would occasionally vanish as they came upon a mortal or even one of the others when he wanted privacy. He would simply slip into the shadows and be gone until they were alone again. When he wished to speak with others he would step through a shadow and be revealed with warm pink skin. Even more than the architecture, this power fascinated Sylvian.
“How does it work?” – Sylvian
“It is a power that is ubiquitous amongst those of us who are Hidden.” – Zelios, referring to his clan’s old sobriquet.
“I can see its usefulness.” – Sylvian
“It’s not so hard. Next time you wish to hide from someone, or find yourself with time on your hands, stand so that you are not the center of attention. Stand in the shadows, or behind a table. Do not hide yourself; just think on the thing between you and those you wish to hide from. Make that thing the center of your attention and it shall be theirs as well. Should you succeed they’ll look at the chair, or see a shadow but you yourself will be completely unnoticed.” – Sylvian
Sylvian laughed and then they were back to talking about their castle.
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In the meanwhile, Daniel, Lucien, Barabus and a poor hound have been engaged in a contest of fleshcrafting, Lucien spending nights molding the poor ghoul into a hound of war and Daniel doing the same with a beast of his choice. The resulting creatures are both rather fearsome. Barabus, though undoubtedly more naturally powerful than Daniel's entry, is severely hampered by his unfamiliarity with his new body. The contest has yet to be scheduled but at any time the two are ready to begin (or if they're just bored) the two fleshcrafters can sick their servants on each other for Steeple's amusement.
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Topic: Chapter 1: Dark Tides Rising (Read 302766 times)