Lexius was in no hurry and his gaze was cast ahead of them as they moved away from the more ancient and well established sections of the district to the new areas where the Temple District began to encroach on its neighbors.

"There is something in you that connects." The Elf concluded.

It was a remark that earned him a sidelong frown from the necromancer, but Mesteno didn't answer immediately. He was attempting to recall any instance in which he might've formed this 'connection', and which he hadn't been aware he harboured. One or two circumstances came to mind, but he didn't supply an answer.

"What was the original matter you were looking into?" he asked instead, hooking thumbs into pockets as they roamed into the newer parts of the district. "And who tasked you with it?"

Lexius wasn't quite so quick to answer those questions. Not reluctant, precisely. More...thoughtful. But then, he was thoughtful a lot.

"I was asked to find someone." He finally admitted, only partially answering the Sadist's queries. He might have been more forthcoming, but matters had changed more than he'd originally predicted they would. "Tell me how you might relate to them. Aside from your heritage." No, he wasn't getting it wrong. Honest!

"The only business I've had with them is when I met Ares about ten years ago. He was at Koyan's place, that Oasis club, I think. He'd agreed to help bring a titan up for us so long as we could deliver him the creature's horn. We didn't have any specific reason to kill it," Mesteno added, in case he thought the cause might be something deeper. "Koyan just told me he'd fought one before at Alvaka, and I badgered him into telling me about it and finding a way to get another one so we could fight it."

So for fun, basically.

The Elf nodded as Mesteno recounted the story. And this time, this day, the way that serenity around him deepened at the mention of Koyan's name was hardly felt at all. Perhaps he was prepared for it this time. He certainly didn't seem surprised by what the Sadist revealed, as if he might have already known about the incident. The beads hushed a moment, then resumed their normal clatter. And the Elf's brow crinkled vaguely as his thoughtfulness deepened.

"Nothing else?" He didn't often badger, but he was trying to cover all the bases since he couldn't just dive into Mesteno's head and have a look around for himself! His pace was slowing as they turned down the last street toward their destination.

"Aside from the titan itself? No. At least nothing that I'm aware of." Mesteno sounded almost apologetic!

The street did not continue through. And it seemed to be fully taken up by buildings all done in the same style. Crossing on the walkways there was almost like stepping out of RhyDin and into an ancient city in Greece. The buildings soared tall and long, big enough to house the statues built into them that reflected only a handful of the more prominent gods of the pantheon. They were marked out by sculpted columns and covered by lightly pitched roofs done in red and blue, the stone decorated with scenes and symbols that belonged on another world.

Mesteno stopped to examine them, lagging behind the psion a little as he familiarised himself with its architecture, the appearances of the people who were populating the area and milling about the statues. His research tended to skip large portions of any pantheon, but he recognised several faces well enough to identify them from the stone cut likenesses.

The people, of course, ruined the illusion. Their style of dress, and often their race, was as eclectic as the city from which they came. And not all of the buildings were well established. Signs of construction still surrounded many, marking them as unfinished. Paint and inlaid gold and silver still gleamed brightly even as daylight continued to fail. The plants and the trees all appeared rather young, though they were appropriate to the era and geography even if they were not exactly the correct species.

An amphitheatre dominated the far end of the street, the tiers of stone seating rising in even spaced rings around the circular floor of the stage. And all along the way, the temples to the Gods. But there were too few. And no sign at all of anything dedicated to Zeus. Lexius slowed his pace even more to allow Mesteno to look as they passed by the buildings and statues and fountains. Here and there, speakers stood to address their motley collection of listeners in clear, ringing voices. Every one of those seemed to have adopted more authentic clothing....though who could really say what was truly accurate?

Lexius paused beside a fountain that depicted a woman clad in warrior garb, a shield in one hand and a scroll in the other. Athena, without a doubt. Mesteno caught sight of the other statues as they passed. Another woman that sported a bow, Artemis. A man bearing a wine cup, Dionysus. Another, younger male, holding a caduceus, Hermes. Perhaps the other Gods were deeper in the buildings?

"Hmm." The Elf was deeply thoughtful. But he wasn't looking at Mesteno, he was looking at another statue. This was done in a somewhat darker stone and had a three headed dog standing beside his robed form. Hades. "That must be it." Lexius continued, finally turning his gaze to the Sadist. "They are not all here." As if he could tell Mesteno might be looking for the missing statues.

The further they?d walked, the more severe Mesteno?s frown became. For a man whose features were sensuously generous, he was so often marring them with scowls and seriousness... but how could he not when things made so little sense?

"How'd they get the funds to build all this?" he asked, keeping his voice to a low that ought not carry beyond current company. "And why the Hell would they risk losing it all when no other group has been successful in maintaining worship to the Pantheon here? Either they have more money than sense, or they have the backing of... someone." He seemed to be implying that perhaps one of those very Gods whose image had been cast in stone were responsible for it.

Cerberus, the three headed guardian was unmistakeable, and his focus flicked from the monstrous dog to the male figure beside it. Hades he'd read a great deal of, and there were so many tangled threads between this particular deity and those Roman versions he'd studied that for a long time he was silent, pondering whether there really was anything deeper he might have forgotten to mention.

"They might just be locked up out of sight somewhere," he went on. "or maybe the sculptors are still working on 'em." Both were logical suggestions, but there was a thread of doubt tangled into his voice. "Or..." here it came, "Maybe the ones who've got their statues here have given some kind of endorsement to worship in Rhy?Din, and the others are opposed. It might explain why some are missing, and why this place hasn't been bombed or something yet."

Lexius....was smiling. A ghostly thing, but it was there. He did rather enjoy Mesteno's intelligence. The Elf, of course, knew more than he was sharing. That the Sadist had caught on to the mystery and already had it partially unravelled was more than a little pleasing. Still, he didn't offer any more verbal clues just yet. He wanted to hear what other ideas he might prompt by showing Mesteno something else.

"Come. I will show you something that you may find interesting."

That said, the Elf stepped away from Athena's statue and farther along the street, turning them into one of the building closer to the amphitheatre. No one barred their way. No one accosted them with speeches. No one really seemed to notice them, in fact. But they were noticed, the moment they stepped inside the building. But not even the beads gave a warning rattle.

Well, the necromancer had sought to put an end to the monotony he'd sunk into. He peered at the hand outstretched to stall him, and reached a standstill a few inches shy of walking into it.

In time with the touch came the...women. There were three of them, shrouded in robes cinched at their waist by living snakes. They had long, twisting hair and wings like a bat spread half out behind them as they appeared, one at a time, from the darkest of the shadows. Should one stare too hard, they almost seemed as transparent as that veil behind them. One to the left, one to the right, and the last stepping from that veil directly ahead. She was the one that spoke, voice low and throaty with something of a sibilant hiss to her words.

"Ssssooo," she whispered gleefully, "you've come at last..."

"...to face justice..." the one to the right continued.

"...and retribution." Finished the one to the left. They were looking right at Mesteno.

Mesteno thought them succubi to begin with, perhaps only because of the bat-like wings, but their words soon erased that theory. Likely they were the same beings he'd glimpsed in the shadows beyond Aphrodite's sculpture, and he'd have wagered they'd heard their entire discussion.

"Actually I was sight-seeing," he told them irreverently, his tone a dispassionate monotone. Either his acting had improved drastically over the past few weeks, or he truly wasn't harbouring any fear of the mysterious females. It almost sounded like goading. Lexius would need to watch that his student did not deliberately provoke some sort of attack - after all he appeared to be lacking in weaponry again.

Lexius dropped his hand, clasping it behind his back with the other. He seemed calm enough despite this somewhat alarming turn of events. Not even Mesteno's flippant response to the trio of terrifying ladies put a ripple in the smooth surface of his serenity. The beads, though, gave a little shudder at his side yet still did not make a sound.

"You've seen...." Began the third.

"...you've done...." Added the second.

"...quite enough already." Finished the first one that stood directly before them.

They were close, the live snakes writhing around their waists much as the twisted strands of their hair seemed to be doing. Leather wings fluttered, the sound dry and raspy, pushing a breeze toward the pair that carried the promise of a reprisal for some unnamed deed. As one, they seemed to gather themselves, hands lifting to reveal claw-tipped fingers, ready to launch at the pair.

Lexius finally spoke up, voice low and smooth as usual, but carrying that commanding note to it. "Name his crime." He demanded flatly.

Their aggression had woken things, like the still waters of a lake on a starless night suddenly interrupted by the ripples of carelessly thrown pebble. They spread, licking through him from head to toe, energy dark and potent, and whilst not hungry, it was certainly gluttonous as usual. What began as the feeling of drowsy spiders crawling beneath his skin suddenly felt like a beast stretched out to the capacity of his flesh, an uncomfortable fullness that should have come pouring through mouth and nose, contained only by the flimsy shell of his scar-torn skin. He had no weapon, but he was ready.

For an instant, he thought he might have to wield it, too. Lexius authoritative demand however seemed to have bought him some time. Damn good question, too, since the vague notions he had about some kind of titan rebellion due to their battle at Alvaka was probably poor guesswork.

"And while you're doing that," he tagged on shamelessly, "he hasn't done anything. You've no right to attack someone innocent, so keep your talons to yourself." He meant Lexius, of course.

Lexius could feel Mesteno's energy suddenly surging beneath his skin, roiling to break free in response to the obvious threat the three women posed. It was not an unexpected reaction, but the Elf was swift to establish a connection of thought to thought with the Sadist and offer some advice.

You must control it. It was advice, even if it sounded like an order. This is their ground. He added as a reminder of where they stood. Inside a temple dedicated to a Goddess. Holy ground, of sorts. Ground, at least, that had been consecrated in favor of those that now stood between them and escape.

To his credit, Mesteno didn't give any indication that the women might be able to interpret, that he'd received that mental communication. His eyes were fixed on them, his posture purely predatory, as if he were the one likely to come out of the encounter with his maw dripping prey blood, and not vice versa.

This won't be like the bar, he told the Elf, using that same mental pathway (and noteworthy, the fact that he returned it instantaneously without any effort - if he didn't think about it, it seemed an easy thing!) I am in control. It appeared trust was required again.

The women hissed as one, the sound like a thousand furious snakes ready to strike, not taking their burning red eyes from Mesteno for even a second.

"The Erinyes...." Began the second.

"...do not answer..." Said the first.

"...to the likes of you." Concluded the thrid.

But the Elf was implacable. "His crime must be named before it can be avenged." He insisted. And the beads...finally made a sound. A single, thunderous rattle sound that did more to give the women pause that anything the Elf or the Sadist was saying or doing.

They pulled back, finally turning their gaze away from their prey and toward the Elf and the now quiet beads as the rattling faded away.

From one woman to the next Mesteno?s attention flicked, following them as they spoke, with a near imperceptible sneer beginning to curl the corner of his mouth, etching mutt-like wrinkles beside his nose as derision became a snarl, attack imminent. But then the beads... He seemed as surprised by their thunderous rattling as the self-proclaimed Erinyes, and yet he didn't trust them to abstain from violence altogether. He let the energy sit primed, rather than forcing it back into its usual, reliable channels.

It made sense, their hesitation. If the beads really were linked to the source of what all deities were born of, who wouldn't be wary of their warnings?

The relocation seemed to be complete. Somewhere hot. A cavern? Lava? Perhaps the distant sound of those roars that had made the ground tremble had been volcanic, perhaps--

But who cared? The fluid had reached his skin, and Mesteno was stumbling from the swipe of the wing when the despair set in, blossoming entirely disproportionate to the situation. It crippled him far more effectively than a well-aimed strike of the fury's talon might have. A moment later he came to a complete standstill, devoid of any intention to protect himself from further attack, unconcerned even with Lexius' disappearance.

Nothing mattered. Everything was wrong. His fault. He'd fucked it all up. Hadn't been good enough for Evander. Wasn't enough. He knew it emphatically, irresistibly, and it felt, dizzyingly, as if he might drown in it. It successfully reduced him to docile prey within a matter of moments, with only the strangely separate and unaffected energy boiling beneath his hide still intent on protecting him.

The tone of the Fury's howl changed from enraged to triumphant as she swooped in with intent to rend him limb from limb. She had won the day and would not be denied her prize, her vengeance. Mesteno would not die quickly.

Two things happened then, right at the same time.

The link the Elf had established between his and Mesteno's mind was still active, and Lexius' voice came cracking down that tie like a hot bolt of lightning, searing across the surface of the Sadist's mind as if to burn away the overwhelming sorrow. Mesteno!

With his voice came the kiss of the heat from a desert sun across his scarred skin, the taste of the sand on his tongue, the scent of that spice Lexius favored in his coffee. The beads might have added their own little touch in there to assist in his recovery.

The second thing that happened was much less obvious. A man appeared out of nowhere, draped in dark robes holding a black metal staff with two large, wicked prongs in one hand, the butt of it grounded against the rocks. He seemed older, sage, with curling dark hair and black, black eyes that seemed to gleam a reflection of the orangish light that swirled hotly in the lava pools. He wore an elaborate helmet of gleaming metals, spikes splayed across the top of it. His gaze was fixed on the Sadist and the Fury and he spoke one simple, soft word.

"Stop."

The Fury might have had Mesteno pinned by then, about to tear into his flesh...but it stopped. Everything, actually, seemed to stop for a few moments. Even the twirling of the lava in the pools.

Better for Lexius if he hadn't still been connected. The misery was sickening, a mind poison which practically begged for the ending the Fury offered. Mesteno would have welcomed her with open arms if not for the fact that she bowled him over before he found the energy to raise them, the deadly little assassin's blade dropped upon the dark stone of the cavern in wordless surrender. The light still seemed to flicker behind his eyes, yet there was no true focus to them. He didn't really see anything until his name from the Elf's mind struck like a hammer blow, and even then there seemed to be some resistance, as if despite the beads' rattling, and the way the psion's presence began to burn away at the despair, there was a part of him that desired the easy way out being offered.

Of course that wasn't likely to happen, not with the energy finally rushing forth to assault the fury as it had attempted to attack the Elf not so very long ago as they stood atop the promontory. It didn't matter what she was, it simply meant to unravel her thoroughly, and perhaps would have if the stranger hadn't chosen that moment to make his appearance.

Stillness throughout the cavern, and Mesteno, pinned beneath the repulsive creature, seemed suddenly aware in ways he had not been before. When had he stretched his throat out so accommodatingly like that? When had he fallen on his back, supine prey for his attacker? His eyes sharpened, and urgently, he set to scrambling out from beneath her, shoving at her still form if need be, as furious as she had been but a great deal more confused.

And ashamed. Jesus Christ he felt ashamed for submitting like that!

"The fuck is happening? Where are we?" Oh, right, Lexius wasn't there with him... "What happened to Lexius!?" As if the stranger knew. He had the ominous sense that he should know this being. The longer he looked at him, the more certain he was.

Lexius, where are you!?

Only silence met Mesteno's questing thought.

"Nooooo!" Wailed the Fury even as she pulled (was yanked?!) back and away from the scrambling necromancer. "He belongs to usssss." She insisted imprudently, the same echoing to her voice as had been there when all three Furies spoke together no matter that only she alone seemed to be present.

"On the contrary," the man answered darkly, gleaming eyes on the confused Sadist, "he belongs to me." And there was a terrible note of finality in that statement that was underscored by the abrupt resumption of motion in the very earth around them. "Begone." He went on, far too casually. And the Fury disappeared, leaving (unwillingly!) Mesteno alone with the robed figure. Were his robes moving? Pay no mind to that.

The necromancer twisted over, onto hands and knees to push upwards on rough palms. He'd spent far too much of the last couple of minutes off his feet, and he didn't intend to remain sprawled out with this new threat arisen. It didn't matter that the robed stranger had effectively saved him from the Fury's wrath, the fact that he had power over the wretched creature made him far more dangerous. Quite predictably, he stepped backward, widening the space between them as best he could without coming too close to those molten puddles.

The vast majority of his attention was fixed on the man with the two-pronged spear, the elaborate helm crowning his dark head. Oh but it couldn't be... His brow knotted, and the full, hedonist's mouth became a grim, pale line.

"What now?" he asked him. It appeared introductions were unnecessary. He didn't even intend to argue that statement of ownership. He knew how imperious beings like this were wont to be!

Hades was no more a fan of audacious than he had been of impertinent. The God was just about to shuffle past Mesteno in his roaming oratory when, instead, he whirled to face the Sadist's still kneeling form, causing those robes to brush fleetingly across the Necromancer's arm and knee. With the contact came a familiar feeling. Something Mesteno carried around inside his body and wielded (in Hades' esteemed opinion) as deftly as a child brandished a toy sword. Death. But it was far more complex a thing. There was pain and sorrow and suffering, but there was joy and exultation and triumph, as well. There was the devastating cold of and blinding heat. There was a glimpse of the Underworld, and a flash of Elysium all at once. All of it rushing through the Necromancer in less time than it took to inhale. It was too much to process all at once, too much for a simple, human brain.

Hades hooked into his soul again and yanked him flat to the hard, uneven stone violently enough to make him grunt on impact, jaw and cheekbone throbbing. The God raged every bit as fiercely as the Fury had.

"You conspire to raise a Titian, you take hand in its defeat," and he did sound a little incredulous, if not actually disgusted about that part, "then you think to walk amongst us unnoticed?!" He slammed his staff onto the ground and the whole cavern trembled, the lava pools surged and the very air seemed to waver and warp as if it might rip apart at any moment.

"And now you think to presume upon me for favors?!" He added, really on a tear. That part must be about the Elf. When Hades spoke again, only his voice changed, becoming softer, more dangerous. "When I have already equipped you with all that you need. Perhaps then, I shall take it back." There came than yanking again, as if he was set to tear Mesteno's soul right out of his body.

In that moment there, when Hades seemed fully bent on removing Mesteno's soul and distracted in his rage, came just a whisper of thought down the tie that still connected Mesteno and the Elf. It sounded like it was coming from a million miles away. Fortitudo.

Mesteno?s ribs and hipbones were bruising further by the moment, and snatching breath seemed impossible but for the shallowest, most unsatisfying of inhalations. This time the slim, pearl line of bared teeth was a grimace, not a snarl, but he made no attempt to rise from this thoroughly prostrate position. He wasn't about to worsen his situation by physically struggling.

After all, it was bad enough that in his rage, Hade seemed set on ripping his soul loose of his flesh, and it was this that actually made him cry out, the sensation a white hot agony, though the sound he made, animalistic and hoarse throated sounded as enraged as it did pained. Had he the capacity to move he might have been left convulsing, but what Hades pulled at was rooted, refusing to bend entirely to the deity's whims. How frustrating that must have been, to know that the powers locked in that wiry flesh were so defiant, even seemed to try and snap metaphysically like a cornered wolf at a hunting party with spears at the ready.

The Elf's distant encouragement did somehow make it through that violent, horrific sensation though, and even if he could not find the resolve to form a word in reply, there was a mental brush, something like a straining towards him as if he might grasp on for support. A vain effort.

Between gritted teeth, molars clenched tight enough they felt as if they might crack, he managed to croak, "I'm sorry-- fuck! -- I'm sorry, I'll do as you ask!"

Hades' frustrations were multiple, to be sure. He'd managed to separate the Elf from Mesteno physically, of course. And he'd managed to block that mental connection that still linked the two of them together. But that he couldn't sever it completely had put the God in a bad mood to begin with. That he couldn't completely banish Lexius from his realm only twisted the knife in a little bit deeper. And now...now the Necromancer's soul seemed to thwart his divine will?! It was incomprehensible. Unacceptable. Infuriating.

It seemed for a moment as if the God was going to scrap the idea of sending Mesteno on a mission to save his Nephew in favor of finishing the job he'd prevented the Fury from completing. The cavern -roared- and groaned and shook, until another voice cut sharp as a blade through all the chaos.

"Are you insane!" Someone yelled.

Not the Elf. Not anyone Mesteno knew. A new player stepped onto the battlefield and he sounded just as enraged as Hades, but in a different way.

"He can't be here. Neither of them can be here!" The assault on Mesteno's soul wavered as Hades turned away to face the newcomer. "And will you stop that."

Abruptly, something came between Hades' hooks and Mesteno's energy, putting a halt to the tug-of-war- going on between the two. "It's already been given. You can't take it back now."

"You dare!" Hades growled.

Mesteno might catch a glimpse of a pair of snazzy looking wingtip boots stopping somewhere near Hades. In the pulsing glow of the lava, he was possible to catch the way little wings seemed to be embossed into the leather near the heels of those boots. What he was more likely to notice, though, was the feel of Lexius suddenly, almost violently appearing beside him, down on one knee with the beads falling to drape across the Sadist's spine. The Elf was...growling a little himself.

"You?re damn right, I dare." The new guy said hotly. "I didn't go through all the trouble of steering them here for you to screw it up now! Now take us back." He demanded. And, amazingly...the cavern started to fade.

The moment the assault ended, Mesteno rolled onto his back, gasping for air the compression of his ribs had denied him. Noisy, hungry gulps sounded raw in his throat, and the wretched heat in that cavern had him sweating - or maybe it was what he'd just endured! - in ways that the training Lexius had given him with the sticks had never been able.

Speaking of the Elf, he was there beside him. Somehow, this was what he picked out first, the kneeling psion growling away. "Oh thank fuck-- I thought you were in his Gods damned..." Never mind. Up his robes just wasn't where you wanted to tell a guy you thought he'd been!

The Elf looked as sharp as that assassin's knife Mesteno had tried to defend himself with earlier, angled features drawn tight and blue-violet eyes snapping at hotly as the lava pools that surrounded them. He raked a burning look across the Sadist, something that delved past the abused skin and rattled bones to check on him inside, as well and out.

Inelegant scrambling to try and rise ensued from the necromancer, and finally, with Hades and the stranger roaring at one another, he was able to get a look at the new arrival. It had to be another deity, of course, but he'd been too jarred by the assault to notice the embossed wings which might have answered some of the questions his head was suddenly boiling over with. They'd been steered there?

"Wait, what do you mean you--!" But the cavern was fading, and a second relocation in such a short space of time left him grasping at his head, squeezing his eyes shut to try and reject the dizziness he was sure to feel when they emerged (hopefully!) back in Rhy'Din.

Ignoring the fact that Hermes was entrusting his welfare to Lexius as if he were still a minor, Mesteno was already turning away to search out the exit with Lexius close behind, when Hermes had tagged on that last demand for attention. Mesteno gave the newly materialised bag a dubious look, but Lexius didn?t take his gaze off the pair of deities or unweave the protections he had put in place.

The necromancer wound up crouching down, fingers immediately at work on the knot until the Elf shook his head and spoke.

"Not here." Was his advice, just as Hermes added rather hastily, "You should wait on that! Off you go now. Been here too long." Shoo, shoo. He was shooing them away, complete with the hand motions.

Lean, tawny fingers hesitated on the twine, and Mesteno considered opening it just to spite them. Hermes was right though, they'd spent far too long in the Grecian grounds of the temple district, and the sooner they left them behind the better. Snatching the bag by the neck, he straightened up on protesting knees, and had none of Lexius' concern about turning his back on the deities completely.

He hesitated only a moment once they were back outside, in order to get his bearings, and then using the constellations as a guide, set off for safer streets. Pretty much anywhere would do, after the mess they'd experienced that afternoon.

He moved at a long-legged prowl, the speed deceptive for how fluid it seemed. He was also unapologetically quiet, too busy trying to process what'd happened to be anything like considerate company. Not the ideal first trip out for a man who'd spent a good week playing hermit due to heartsick blues. Not great for a man who'd been so miserably despairing to have suffered Alecto's venom and felt it all over again, along with a shameful urge to let her open his throat with her talons. He grimaced to recall it, and to realise that part of him was still so pathetic that he was almost disappointed that hadn't been the end to it all.

Fucking Hades. Fucking Hades trying to tear his soul loose. He didn't even realise that he'd begun to mutter in his native tongue, a bitter tirade of foul-mouthed threats to a being that wasn't even around to hear them.
Lexius might have been better off leaving him to his own devices for the evening, and he?d considered it until the muttering and cursing started. But who knew where that might lead if left unattended? He waited, though, until they were well away from the Grecian District, until the entire Temple district was far behind, allowing Mesteno to work off a little of that steam through some vigorous walking before he reached to take the bag.

"Do you wish to drink, fight or be taken home?"

Mesteno?s grip was firm on that bag, knuckles gleaming white under sun-bronzed skin. He seemed to require an explanation as to why he was relinquishing it before he'd agree to.

They were close to the marketplace by that point, a hotspot for the city even at night, and he kept from letting that muttered foulness rise in volume only because there were so many people passing them by. Light flashed across his retinas as he watched a couple pass them by, watching them as if to see who might win ownership of the bag. The growl he shot after them hastened them along, sounding too authentically animalistic to have come from a human throat.

"I'm going to drink," he told him. To be taken home made it sound as if he were a child! As for fighting, he was fairly sure anyone could have bested him at present. His nerves were haywire, and not exactly conducive to victory.

The Elf met Mesteno's look calmly and kept his hand on the bag. Whatever amount of temper that still lingered inside the Elf was well under control, even if that strange mix of colors in his own gaze was still too bright. He was maintaining things still, even this far away. It was a drain, one that it didn't seem he could afford given the harsh thinness of his features, but he kept at it for the time being.

"Drink then." Was he encouraging him?! Well, he wasn't discouraging the man. "But it may be better you not to carry this with you." A reasonable point! They did not yet know what was in it.

"You don't even know what's in it," Mesteno pointed out, his patience wearing thin. Lexius had a valid point though. He knew whatever it was likely should not be in the hands of a man who might lose it getting shamefully drunk. His fingers twitched as if reflecting his indecision, and after a moment he sighed, relinquishing possession.

He stepped back, waving dismissively at the bag as if to have it taken away. He had this inkling that whatever was in there might be giving off some energy that he was numb to, but which Lexius could sense perfectly well.

"Fine, you be its caretaker. Get your little walking crystal thing to watch over it." As if he thought that satchel might be going to swallow it up shortly.

Lexius simply stared at Mesteno for the first comment, which just validated his point! Then he waited patiently for the Sadist to decide, but awarded no approving smile when the man relented, choosing common sense over rashness. Instead, he was doing precisely as Mesteno predicted he would. He opened the satchel and stuffed that bag and its contents right down into the thing, closing the flap before his wayward crystal thought to jump out and complain.

"Contact me when you are ready." He didn't immediately disappear, but stood and watched the Sadist, hands folded behind his back and gaze intent. Beside him, the beads gave a little shudder, but they remained silent.

The necromancer watched him in turn, indecision writ plainly across angular features. Perhaps he was rethinking getting a drink, given the hole-riddled state of his clothes, the wild disarray of his hair. It would only lead to questions, or at the very least attention he wasn't ready for. He was the first to look away, refocusing grimly on the marketplace.

"You should be smart about this," he told Lexius, sotto voce. "You had nothing to do with the raising of the titan, you're not carrying any taint, and you've no obligation to either of them, or that whole damn Pantheon. They had no right to pin any responsibility on you, and you can easily avoid it all if you use the planes. It was me that instigated what happened, it's me they're pissed off with. I know what Hermes," yes he knew his name! "said about you being the path, but there are rifts, there are ways I could find with a little study. You don't have to be involved. So think about it. Dump whatever's in that bag at my place if you're concerned I'll lose it before you I get home."

It seemed he did not hold Lexius responsible for urging him to visit the Grecian temple at all. As the Gods had so kindly pointed out, he was a fool to have thought there would be no repercussions, that he could avoid the fallout forever.

He didn't wait for a reply, but left Lexius stood where he was, and made immediately for the yawning mouth of the nearest alley.

Lexius said absolutely nothing at all. He stood impassively, listened attentively but without any discernible expression, then watched Mesteno walk away. What he did do, though, was unravel the protections he'd placed around Mesteno's soul and mind. He also finally broke the mental connection that had tied them together all that time. But not harshly. It was done no differently than he usually did so.

Mesteno did get lucky. Lucky enough that the Elf did not bother him again that night despite the fact his temper was so stirred up. He let the Sadist go then disappeared himself, back to the desert to await that call.

Lexius leaned to pluck a simple wooden cup from the table and offer it out to him as he stepped inside, closer. The beads gave a little clatter from where they had circled the cup on the table, but then went still when the Elf spoke.

"It is mine. Drink." His tone was polite enough, but his dual colored gaze was intent, and there was a subtle tension in the line of his shoulders. Water and a cup, given from his own hand. It was really not an option, no matter how courteous the offer appeared.

Thankfully Mesteno seemed to understand the necessity for the drink implicitly, without having to ask. Or at least he must have assumed he did, because he reached for the offered cup with the hand not caught up in carrying his jacket, and took a long swallow of the contents. He hadn't needed it, but it felt good, the sensation pleasantly real after the strangeness of the teleportation.

"Gratias," he murmured, glancing up from the water to see if some of that sharp focus had eased from Lexius' eyes. "Your home, yes?" This he asked a little more hesitantly, but he wanted to be sure he understood. A strange honour to be received there, after how trying he'd been for the Elf of late.

The tension, the intensity, had diminished marginally. Lexius looked over Mesteno slowly, head to toe and back again, before turning his gaze away to look over the cave.

"Aye. I suppose that would be the name for it." The Elf finally answered, voice once again devoid of any emotion as he looked back at him. "You may leave your things here." He was already turning for one of those breaks in the wall.

Leaving his jacket on one of the cushions by the table, and with nothing else to leave behind, Mesteno set off in pursuit of the Elf, examining things as he went with the occasional skim of calloused fingertips. He meant to discover whether the stone had been weathered away or smoothed by tools. It didn't look like the kind of soft stone he knew some of the manmade catacombs had been dug into, but he wouldn't put it past Lexius to take something carved out by nature and tweak it with his abilities. He'd already proven he'd a way with stone.

"I couldn't find anything useful," he confessed wryly as he followed. "Library was as good as useless. You been any luckier?"

They passed carvings aplenty among the curiosities and books, done in a mind numbing array of rocks, minerals, crystals and gems. Globes of light suspended in the air illuminated their way, decorating the cavern and shimmered overhead at regular intervals along the spacious tunnel the Elf had walked into. More rugs decorated that, deadening the scape of boots, and there were two paintings along that short corridor, but both were veiled in bright silks which Mesteno?s fingers itched to raise.

The second portion of the cave was longer than it was wide, the ceiling arching up a good ten feet, every single wall masked by bookshelves that were filled to capacity with all manner of books and tomes and scrolls. Down the center of that long room was a lengthy, low stone table, the surface polished and cushioned with intricately woven mats. And all along that were various portions of his library opened up with pages marked. At the far end of that room hung maps. Dozens of them. Picturing impossible and mundane landscapes. They, like the globes of light, hung suspended in the air, and it seemed Lexius could move them all about the room to suit his needs.

The Elf didn't answer until Mesteno, again, had a chance to look around. "I've discovered a thing or two." So, so blandly.

Mesteno made no reply, but stood waiting patiently once his eyes were sated. The silent attentiveness seemed to have relaxed the Elf, who made his way to the far end of the library and indicated toward the cushions at the table.

"Sit." He instructed.

Obliging him without comment, Mesteno considered the items strewn across the table. Nothing that looked as if it might have been contained within a rough hemp sack, though the little brown lizard parked on top of a closed book looked suspiciously like the ones now running around his property. A stunningly detailed, bronze dragonette statue sat holding down the corner of a scroll. Staring too long left him thinking he?d seen t might blink. There were other things, carved mostly from soapstone, used as paperweights here and there across the table as well as thin, colored crystals in the shape of pens.

"How much do you know of the Grecian deities?" The Elf asked as he leaned to start arranging thin sheets of parchment on the table before the Sadist just so. Hey, there was Hades! just a drawing of him, and not entirely accurate, but a close enough representation.

"Prior to last night, my knowledge was pretty limited," Mesteno admitted, as he leaned a wiry forearm against the table. He did not sound particularly ashamed. "I focused on their afterlife, death rites, Hades, Cerberus, Persephone and the figures connected to those old legends. I never really paid any attention to Ares." Though why would he have? War was not his concern. "I tried to find some connection to the titan mentioned, but they as a subject seem to get overlooked compared to the Gods that came after them."

Leaning forward to inspect the parchment arrayed before him, it wasn't difficult to identify the God who'd played puppet with him so effortlessly less than forty-eight hours ago. His stomach twisted uneasily at the recollection of his attempts to pry his soul loose, and so his distaste emerged not in any wide-eyed, fearful expression, but in a muttish grumble.

"Doesn't look arrogant enough," he declared.

"I will keep it brief." The Elf promised once he heard the Sadist out. He wasn't overly surprised, but it would require some explanation.

Folding his knees, he settled just to the side of the Sadist as he went on. "The Grecian Gods are the same as the Roman. The reigning deities simply stepped into these new roles as easily as the humans of the time adapted Greek beliefs as their own. The Titans predated these Gods in the Greek stories, but were defeated and cast in Tartarus. The bulk of those stories did not carry over to the Roman equivalent of these gods. But they were a strong enough image in mortal minds that the Titans did, and continue to, exist. So it imperative to these Gods that they remained secured away."

Lexius arranged the Gods by apparent order of lineage with Zeus, Poseidon and Hades, Hera, Hestia and Demeter at the top and all the other various sons and daughters splayed out beneath them. Only Aphrodite was left out to the side, not really part of either group. He named each of the Gods (Greek and Roman equivalent) as he placed them, then continued.

"There are the ones most well-known. There are hundreds of others, but I believe only these are involved in our current situation as they reigned the longest and were the most popular." He said 'our' without any special emphasis, but Mesteno could be damn sure there was some in there! "Thus, they would have the most power even now."

Lexius then began to rearrange the sheets, placing the images of the Gods they had seen represented in Rhydin on one side, all the rest on the other, with the image of Ares settled in between both groups.

"And this, I believe, is how they are currently split. I believe the reason they are split is because of what happened to Ares. He has been imprisoned somewhere, most likely for the crime of raising these Titans. His punishment for that would have to be severe. But it seems to have been severe enough that it split the rest of them apart...philosophically." He paused there, looking at the Sadist.

"We'll be tied to them should we do this, no matter what. But my intention is to make that tie as uncomfortable for them as possible." Lexius uncoiled from the cushion then, his hand extending, then gesturing sharply to the Sadist. "Come. I will show you the items they gave us."

He turned on his heel and stalked toward a map, pushing it aside to reveal another break in the wall that had been hidden. Another cavern attached to this one!

"Well even if we do wind up tied to them, they might get bored of us. So many people to play with - why would they keep picking on the same two?" He sounded like an optimist for a moment there! Or he was just assuming that there were far more interesting individuals to pick on. Rhy'Din was so full of the weird and wonderful after all!

Mesteno wasn't far behind Lexius when he moved, though he did have to reach to keep the map aside since he wasn't dogging his heels.

"You know I was thinking," he admitted as they walked, "that most folks who do wrong in all those legends get shut up in Tartarus. I know it'd be an obvious place to put him, but maybe we should look into that. It's supposed to be even lower than Hades according to what I read, and there'd be something pleasingly messed up for him to get imprisoned in the same place as the creatures he was raising up for a slaughter."

The air changed somehow, when Mesteno walked through that archway in the stone. This area was definitely protected somehow, and in a far less subtle way than the library had been. The brown lizard from the library went scuttling by Mesteno's foot not three seconds after he'd stepped inside.

The room was large, irregularly shaped and contained several steel tables about waist height positioned this way and that across the center. Neatly arranged on those tables were a variety of laboratory-like equipment and samples. Beakers, vials, dishes and crystals. So many crystals of so many different shapes and sizes and colors. One entire section of the far wall had been converted into stone alcoves that housed a variety of living creatures in cages appropriately sized to the denizen. Snakes, lizards, scorpions, scarabs, bats (though that cage stayed dark) spiders and even stranger animals made up the Elf's crazy collection of pets. Some of them were even outside the cages! Like that spider that seemed to be made of living quartz crystal that crouched on top of a stone shelf just to the left.

Mesteno?s first inclination was to head across to the cages and get a better look, but by then he'd realised that there seemed to be plenty of critters to watch that were not contained, and so his neck was craned to watch this one scurry along a table's edge, or another sat contentedly on one of the shelves.

"Yevgeny would love this place," he murmured, the comment not particularly intended to invite a reply. He strayed a step towards the living quartz spider, not precisely slack jawed, but certainly intent upon it, lips parted and eyes sharply focused as he observed its manner of movement.

Lexius watched Mesteno a moment, that smile threatening again for the Sadist's fascination with the room and its inhabitants, but he did not give in to the temptation.

"I had that exact same thought," he spoke over his shoulder and led on to the nearest table. There were several items laid out on a tray there, visibly shielded by some form of energy barrier that occasionally rippled. "Then I saw these."

There under the shielding were the items from the bag. What appeared to be a section of some kind of horn was trapped in glass beside what looked like a long, brilliantly white flight feather from some massive bird. The quill part of the feather was stained a sickly black. Next to that was a simple leather pouch, the contents of which had been arranged beneath it in an orderly row. Rune stones. Were those symbols Nordic? So close, the resemblance. And at the far end of the rest, an exquisitely crafted manacle with a shield crossed by a torch and a spear impressed into the metal.

"Oh... oh shit, please tell me that's a Pegasus feather," Mesteno murmured lowly. Never mind the horn shard. The first thing he fixed on was that piece of plumage. He did look at the rest of the items though, keen eyed and studying each until he came to the manacle. He indicated it with a single finger, but didn't attempt to touch it. The shield might zap him! "The symbolism on that manacle. Do you know anything about it?" Because he was drawing a blank.

Lexius unravelled the protective barrier so Mesteno could touch (however unwise that might be!) if he wanted to.

"That is Ares' symbol. But the manacle itself was made elsewhere. As for the feather....no. And you may not wish to touch it." Because it was all kinds of holy, if sick with rot.

"If it's not from Pegasus... what the hell else is there in Greek mythology that has feathers? Unless it's harpies. Shit, is it a harpy feather? There are too many poorly clothed, winged women in these old legends," Mesteno muttered, though he did reach in now that the shield had been removed.

As per guidance, he did not touch the feather as he'd first been compelled to, but he did pick up one of the rune stones with the Nordic symbol carved into them. Now there was a mystery. He set it back down once he'd turned it over in his palm, sure he'd noted everything of significance about it. Then the manacle, a thumb brushing across the newly explained symbol.

"Why give us this? I can't see 'em preparing fancy bindings for him just because. Are we supposed to use it on someone on his behalf?"

Lexius was frowning at that feather. As if it had done him some personal wrong! His gaze snapped from it to Mesteno when the man reached to start touching things. "It is from an angel." He informed.

That particular revelation resulted in a distinct storminess to the necromancer's bright eyes. It would appear he was no happier over mention of an angel being involved than Lexius was.

"And it does not rightly belong with this group of items,? Lexius went on, ?I am uncertain if the manacle has a purpose other than to identify where it was crafted and who is was crafted for. Put together with these," he gestured to the runes Mesteno studied, "leads me to believe he is not being held in Tartarus."

Lexius paused for a moment, then quoted Hermes again. "?Our cousins to the north will never see them coming?." He made a gestured to the manacle again. "The best smiths in existence reside in Nidavellir, on the Plane of Ysgard. He's been given to the Norse gods." And boy did that piss off a lot of his relatives!

"You're right, the feather doesn't belong with the other bits and pieces," Mesteno remarked dully once he'd listened the Elf out on the rest of the items. "I've had enough dealings with those, enough getting tangled in prophecy..." Oh what now? He really was having foul luck if he'd drawn the attention of the figures of more than one religion. The way it had rotted though made him wonder if it was the leavings of a fallen, or had been subject to some sort of attack. "We can't ignore it though. If they've roped in their cousins from the north, why not approach another group to grasp a little more power, or bolster their numbers?"

He'd finished looking over the items, and folded his arms loosely, still glowering at the collection, trying to plot a next move. "We can't just go marching into Ysgard of course. We'd have no chance. But maybe we should investigate that new place that you took me to when you were looking into things for the Alfar. That seemed to spring up around the same time as the Grecian temples, right?"

"Even if the new Nordic temple we visit does have a portal for us to reach Ysgard, we have to get from it, down to Nidavellir," Mesteno mused, absently rubbing at his jaw. He seemed to have less trouble pronouncing these planes than he did tangling his tongue around others. Perhaps again, because of his close association with the Alfar. "I don't think it's going to be an easy trip. Two outsiders showing up on a plane they've no obvious connection to? Word would get back to the Gods on the opposing side so fast... And what about these dwarven smiths? We need something more solid on where he is in there if it?s as maze like as you make it sound. Either something we can use to guide us directly to him, or a map of the tunnels."

He didn't point out that they were going to be as unwelcoming to them as the natives of Ysgard might be. They truly would have to rely on stealth to get past them all, and not to wind up lost or imprisoned themselves. His attention strayed back to the Grey Waste, and the question was there on his lips, the obvious what's so bad about it? But his suspicions had deepened, and he let the subject be, as Lexius had intended it.

Lexius folded his hands behind his back again and settled his gaze on the Sadist as he spoke, head canted and eyes narrowed just a little bit. The signs of thoughtfulness even as he spoke. Was he weighing and measuring Mesteno with his gaze?

"There is nothing easy about Ysgard." he agreed. Yet...was that a faint smile on his lips as he studied Mesteno? "I think you will like it. The entire Plane is dedicated to the concept of achieving glory and proving worth though individual struggle. Battles and competitions are ongoing and endless, designed to prove the mettle of their participants. Those that fail and die are reborn to try again and improve. Those that succeed spectacularly may be chosen by the Valkyrie to strive for even greater achievements. Keep in mind, Mesteno, the Norse gods control only a small portion of this realm. There are many, many other Powers across the breadth of the Plane and its layers. There are also the souls of the dead, called Petitioners, the natives of the land, called the Planars, and an endless varieties of those like ourselves who adventure there for their own reasons."

What began as an incredulous look for his suggestion that Mesteno might like Ysgard smoothed out into contemplation as he described it to him in greater detail. Battles and competitions, yes, they were very much his thing, yet the bite of apathy still seized him strongly. He'd yet to recover his usual vigorous appetite for such things, and wouldn't feign it to offer reassurance. It would have to do that he took the whole matter seriously, that he wasn't just shrugging his shoulders and suggesting that whatever unpleasant visitors came for him from the side of Zeus and his cohorts, could come and he'd cope (or not).

"If you know of any connections with Nidavellir, I'll leave research on that to you,? Mesteno decided. ?In the meantime, I can visit the Nordic temple. Maybe I can persuade one of the Alfar to go with me so they can distract the worshippers by talking about their Gods while I investigate. They owe me a favour or two." Not that he liked ever having to call them in.

Lexius nodded then, agreeing to Mesteno's plan. "That is a good beginning. Find out what you can with the help of the Alfar. But do be as discreet as you can. We may have better luck going to Sigil and using a door there to get to Ysgard, but we can bypass that if there is a stable portal here in RhyDin that we know the destination of."

"So we have a back-up plan by going to Sigil,? the necromancer declared. ?Nidavellir is going to be the biggest challenge. I know fuck all about dwarves. Still, they sound something like the Alfar Stonedwellers - they live underground and manipulate the rocks and minerals," he mused - he'd had little to do with them personally - there had been a feud some years before and the furtive race harboured old grudges against their tall, beast-bonded cousins. "I'll leave that part in your hands," he decided, apparently dismissing it before discussion could even begin. He had a more important subject to broach.

Mesteno turned away from the maps, and the weight of his eyes settled full upon the Elf. So serious the expression!

"I was an ass the other night. All that shit in the temple and when we got dragged out of it, and I never asked what happened to you, or if you were okay, because I was too busy raging about the idiots that dragged us into it. Or, well, the idiots that dragged you into it because of me. I'm sorry, Lexius, for you being involved and for being a shit to you."

Maybe that was the only way he could handle apologies, by littering them with curses!

Any trace of a smile faded back into the usual serenity of Lexius? expression, though he maintained more than a little of the thoughtfulness that had been clinging to him. After a lengthy silence, the Elf replied solemnly.

"You owe me no apology, Mesteno. You do not need to...cater to me at the expense of being who you are, even if who you are sometimes annoys me. More often, I find that person surprising and interesting, and as flawed as I am, if in different ways. For some reason, that appeals more than I imagined it could." Those angled features got a little edgier then. He'd mostly recovered from the encounter with Hades in the two short days he'd been back in the desert, but there was still an extra bit of sharpness to the planes of his face that he made cutting with the severity of his expression.

"What I truly dislike, however," he went on, tone hardening as he took a step closer to the Sadist (he couldn't really loom and he wasn't trying to, but being that close was enough to support the seriousness of what he said next) "is when you try to choose for me what I should or should not do." Lexius could be blindingly hypocritical at times! "While I grasp your need for independence and I do not often understand the intricacies of a...friendship, I am fairly sure it includes not leaving ones friends to struggle on their own if one wishes to offer assistance."

Soaringly hypocritical, though Mesteno was kind enough not to point it out. As if he would easily take help with things himself?! Well, they weren't talking about him right now.

Lexius frowned then, fairly certain he was supposed to accept the apology regardless. So he said the words. "I wish to be involved. Stop being sorry to have me unless you truly wish me to be gone." Wait, those weren't the right words.

Mesteno was as surprised by some of what he heard as he was grimly accepting of others, and if possible, some of the severity, some of the apathy-induced dullness bled away as he considered it all.

"I think sometimes you grasp the intricacies of friendship better than you know," he admitted to him. It wasn't quite a smile on his mouth, but something in his tone was suggestive of humour. "A lot of friends, no matter how good, wouldn't be willing to stick their neck out with something as fucked up beyond all reason as this though. They'd figure the risks too high, and I wouldn't blame them for it. I certainly wouldn't expect it of them, there are limits after all. Most folks have other people to consider before they make these choices, family and loved ones that wouldn't be happy about them swanning off to another plane to aid someone less important than they."

It was all perfectly reasonable sounding! He would of course, simply be helping him with whatever he had to deal with in the future, and telling him to shut up if he protested any assistance.

"I don't wish you to be gone," he told Lexius, finally. "When it seemed like you meant to for a while, it seemed really fucking unfair," (Oh that word again! Down he went on the scales.) "'cause hey, I'm just getting to know someone, a someone who I happen to consider a damn good friend already, and I was losing him. So stick around, huh?"

The Elf gave a snort. But he lost some of that sharpness. Maybe they were the right words after all. Right enough, at least, to stir Mesteno a little, leech out some of the dullness from his gaze and flush a little life back into his voice. Lexius promptly went over everything he'd said again and each nuance of reaction to it. He also stepped back to give Mesteno more breathing room.

"I've nowhere else I wish to be." He'd already decided to stay despite the continued...complexities of doing so. He just might also have decided he'd been keeping it simple for far too long. The Elf twisted his lips a little with a harsh kind of wryness. "And no true considerations beyond my own." Apparently, He didn't consider whatever strange kindship he shared with Jason and Lan as priority over his own choices. Lexius left it at that rather than risking screwing it up by saying anything more on the matter.

There was a curious tilt to Mesteno?s head, as if Lexius had surprised him in admitting he would not use the opportunity to secure Whisper's release. For a moment he wondered if the idea of rescuing Koyan's old lover, just as the Turk had returned, was simply too difficult for him. After all, the Elf had admitted his feelings remained, and it would amount to self-sabotage! It put a crimp in his brow, but in the end he dismissed the theory. Lexius wasn't so petty as to do such a thing, and heartless though it might sound, there was the matter of their own future freedom and survival to negotiate before they considered others.

"If they are incarcerated together, Whisper might be of some help getting us out. If he really has been trapped there all this time, surely he'll have been moved about a little, maybe got to know his captors, their routines, who we need to be particularly careful to avoid. He might actually give us an advantage, rather than slow us down."

He blew some steam from his coffee, and tested the temperature with a small sip. Still too hot for his tongue. For now, he let the beads roam as they would.

"If they weren't victims, then what?" he pressed quietly, slouching back further in the cushions as if he couldn't quite get comfortable with... well comfortable things around him!

It was a complicated matter for the Elf that he was attempting to boil down to its most basic parts. As Mesteno imagined, he valued their survival, and the power to wield it with Ares, far more greatly than old promises. That portion of it no longer mattered, anyway. But still, he had a little pride of his own. Finding and bringing Whisper back to RhyDin had been something he'd failed to do. Something he'd had to admit to someone that he'd failed to do! That did rankle, more than a little bit. The Elf was no more satisfied with failure in a thing than the Sadist was.

The Necromancer made some fine points in the argument for going after the guy and Lexius considered them dispassionately before giving a nod of agreement. "We shall see how it plays out." He agreed.

"Perpetrators." He answered the last with a bit of grimness. "I cannot believe it was random, blind bad luck that had a Titan, of all things, something tied to Whisper's origins and his work, attacking Alkava. The only other possibility would be another among the Pantheon having set it upon them. And were it that, I doubt Ares would have been so willing to draw up another on Koyan's whim alone."

They were guesses, of course. Educated ones, but still guesses. And he could well be wrong.

"Unless Ares wanted a war amongst the Pantheon," Mesteno pointed out reasonably. "You said yourself, he's chaotic. It wouldn't be the first time deities have jostled about for a better position in their hierarchy, and if he's not on great terms with his parents, it'd make a great deal of sense to use a titan as nothing more than a device to some greater end. What's nine years in Nidavellir, when you have a whole lifetime to spent reaping the benefits of the division you ultimately cause?"

He opted for sitting up, resting his weight on his elbows against the table's edge. The beads were let to roam where they wished, unmonitored, and the mug was kept for heating his palms more than anything else. Absently, he blew a little of the steam away from the surface, watching curlicues stretch and drift and fade to nothing.

"It does seem more likely it's something relating to Whisper's work though. What I don't get," he added, as if this were the first thing he didn't get and not just one of many, "is that if Whisper vanished after the first titan, and I'm thinking that was probably closer to ten or eleven years back, then why didn't Ares, who likely knew where he'd been taken, or why, tell Koyan when he met him to arrange the summoning of the one we fought?"

Lexius got that frown again. And the beads paused where they had slipped underneath Mesteno's hair. But they weren't too interested in the conversation, only the Elf frowning. When Lexius cleared the expression, looking at Mesteno intently, they continued to try and braid themselves into all that rich, red hair the Sadist had.

The Elf knew Mesteno was smart. Had noted it several times, if only to himself. He would be a fool to discount what the man was saying now. Especially when he had the advantage of having been much closer to Koyan in the wake of that first incident and during the second. So he gave a measured nod.

"A good point." He allowed. "All very good points. And something we should consider before making any sort of bargains with him." Not that Lexius planned on leading with a bargain. No, he had something a little more invaisve and permanent in mind. "Perhaps then, those of the pantheon that now inhabit RhyDin are seeking more than a break if they are so eager to have him back."

There near the entrance to the stalls stood a demon it all its malefic glory, its long spaded tail lashing to and fro as it raked red, burning eyes across the building. It seemed its gaze alone might be able to set it alight. Some of the wood might just have been smoking, but actual flames were prevented by Mesteno's timely appearance, drawing the creature's gaze his way instead.

The demon stood a little under six feet tall and was clad in the finest Armani suit that money could buy, the clothing obviously tailored to his compact, muscled frame, complete with a hole for that tail. Covered in dark green scales, two short, black horns sprouted from the top of the demon's head, curving up than slightly forward. Those would make fine stabbing weapons if the demon decided to lower its head and charge like a bull! At the moment, though, it confined itself to glaring at Mesteno for all it was worth, a trickle of smoke curling out of the slits it had for nostrils.

Fire, wood, hay and horse. It was a bad combination in general, and the last thing Mesteno wanted to do that afternoon was spend his time rescuing terrified equines from their stalls and getting dragged all over the fields.

The scent of smoke made his lip curl, an angled flare of nostrils as if he meant to expel it rather than have the smell become an acrid taste on his tongue. Fucking demons. He hated demons. Least of all when he wasn't clad for combat, and he could only blame himself for not taking that precaution.

Sweeping assessment of the demon was made in a heartbeat. Height, build, reach, extra appendages - yeah, tail - and he saw those horns, too. His expression darkened, but indicated nothing of distress.

"Ya bein' dat necromancer den?!" The demon demanded harshly, stalking his way in polished loafers rather than on cloven hooves. "Where's dat damn elf? He better not be hidin'! Elf! Getcha bony ass out here!"

"I don't know who you're talking abou--,?

Given the sense of the Sadist's distraction and what he had said, the Elf was sneaking a peek through Mesteo's eyes. Vith. He said suddenly. Then air displaced in a rush somewhere off to the demon's left and the Elf appeared with a wild clattering of beads.

?Oh for fucks sake." Mesteno had heard that drow curse, and knew precisely its meaning thanks to long association with Gem and Cianan. Barely had it tickled his brain than the rush of air announced the arrival of the very Elf he was denying knowledge of.

So he let the arrival serve as distraction, and unapologetically called down the shadows stretching long in the afternoon sun, snapping them brutally into the demon's ankles to try and topple him on his ass there in the yard. He wasn't opposed to unfair tactics, after the Grecian Gods had been so unrepentant about utilising them on himself and Lexius.

Unwisely, the demon turned away from Mesteno to shoot a daggered look Lexius' way. Actual daggers, made of black smoke, shot forth from his red eyes and went streaking in his direction, only to impact harmlessly upon an invisible wall surrounding the Elf

"Dere ya a-glak!" The demon exclaimed, interrupted mid-tirade by the shadows that coiled around its legs and pulled it down to the ground. The demon's spaded tail stabbed wildly and ineffectively at the darkness as the demon gargled and hissed and growled in its own language. The ground began to rumble threateningly as the demon falied. "Getcher pansy little shadows offa me, ya hairless monkey!" It demanded with way too much bravado for being unable to escape from those shadows. "Dey're ruin' my suit!"

"Mesteno," the Elf sounded far calmer than he had in the Sadist's head, "meet Sulphur." That demon had to be more imposing than he currently seemed, but so far, there was no evidence of it.

Hairless monkey? The necromancer touched damp fingers absently to the riot of blood and gold hair as if he thought it might have walked off somewhere, then narrowed a glare on the creature, whom scaled, hadn't much room to talk about being hairless.

"No, I don't think I will." A deadpan retort, and if anything, instead of being daunted by a visit from a demon, he looked down the straight, strong line of his nose at it, and folded his arms with characteristic arrogance. "You're fuckin' lucky I don't crush you, comin' out here an' makin' a scene. Not t'mention shootin' whatever the fuck that eye shit was at my friend here."

The introduction saw him peer sidelong at Lexius, a note made of the name and perhaps a scowl that his own had been handed out so carelessly. If they weren't going to kill him, the horned bastard could wander off and share it with whomever he liked.

"Why is he here?" he asked the Elf, and wound the shadows up that little bit tighter.

Sulphur was snarling and spitting in demonic again for the continued confinement...which he should have been able to break out of easily. The Elf furrowed his brow just a touch.

"I imagine he is here about Whisper." He murmured with a vague note of distraction in his tone.

Sulphur should be (had been!) much more powerful than this. That was the reason Lexius had cursed and ported right to Mesteno's location. Oh, the Sadist could take care of himself well enough, without a doubt, but a ninth level demon could still wreak some terrible havoc.

But Sulphur wasn't. In fact, Sulphur had gone still, slumped as if in defeat in the dark embrace of the shadows.

"Y'damn right m'here 'bout Whispah. Y'gonna find'm dis time?!" The demon shouted it, but he remained lax there on the ground with dirt all over his fine, fine suit.

The Elf damn near scowled.

That was the last thing Mesteno expected to hear. He was plainly a demon after all, and Whisper had been, judging by the feather, something a little lighter in nature.

"If you've come here trying to make sure a... friend? gets aided, you've a funny way of trying to persuade people to do a good job of it," he remarked, plainly derisive of what he'd seen so far. It was Lexius? wordless frown that surprised though. It appeared he'd no more liking for someone pointing out a failure than the next man.

The stable yard was kept swept clean, thankfully, not even a stray strand of hay left to spoil the Armani - just the dust and damp from the usual foot traffic, and the resident animals. Still, Sulphur looked sort of pathetic once he ceased to struggle, and Mesteno considered reeling the shadows in to allow him back to his feet.

"You promise to give the dramatics a rest and I'll let you up," he told him. With Lexius present, he suspected they'd be able to put him out of action quickly enough, and he didn't want Sulphur holding grudges he might come slinking back to see paid in violence because of stung pride.

"Dey aint gonna find me!" Sulphur said hot, flames licking at his jagged teeth. "Dey aint got no reason ta even watch me anymore." And at first, the demon seemed dejected, for his puffiness vanished and he sagged all the more. But then his scaly lips curved hard with cunning and malicious glee. "Dat'll be deir undoin'. Now listen." He instructed, stepping closer and bringing with him the scent of brimstone and...well, sulphur!

Mesteno wasn't happy with how close the reptilian-like demon had dared come. Precaution only, he drew up a few threads of shadows to wind gauntlet-style about his forearm and hand, leaving fingers sheathed in razor edges darkness. Good enough to swipe with and do some damage if things got nasty.

"Dey gave'm to dem smelly little, hairy smiths." The demon meant dwarves. His tone was vicious. "Butcha gotta get Whispah free first or it'll unravel dem both, cause dat empty headed, war crazed idiot is bound between da two planes!"

The necromancer moved up beside Lexius while the demon seethed and hated. "Well this makes certain choices a whole lot simpler if he's telling the truth," he murmured. Lexius hadn't been all that driven to rescue Whisper unless he was particularly easily accessible after all. "But this thing about being bound between two planes? Please tell me you got some idea how we can free someone from that..."

There had been something else though, and he fixed a look back on Sulphur, his arms loosening from their arrogant fold - a half assed attempt to look less supercilious.

"How is Whisper being used to keep our main objective," he wouldn't say 'Ares' in case it drew attention from places unwanted! "stuck between planes?"

The Elf said nothing, and looked back to Sulphur, impassively awaiting an answer.

Sulphur was pacing by then, stabbing the air with his tail to accentuate his fuming reply.

"S'causea how he is, ya nimwhit!" Didn't Mesteno know anything?! "Da Sisters can't touch him, but dey still got da power t'snip da man-slayer's thread. And you," he growled at Mesteno, "can feed'm d'sense of his death with da horn. Den dey can say he's dead and his High'n Mighty'll believe it!"

Clear as glass, right?

Sulphur suddenly snapped his head around to the left. "Remember. Whispah first. In da caves!"

Suddenly, the demon was in a rush. And just where he was looking a line of fire split the air and crawled down toward the ground, opening a flaming gate that the demon bolted for like his tail was on ice.

With a final frown at the place the portal had been, Mesteno turned toward Lexius, and did his best to shake off his irritation lest the Elf think it was aimed at him. "Can't say I'm looking forward to meeting him again in the future, but the visit was worthwhile, if he spoke the truth."

Parts of it, certainly, clear as glass. Aside from figuring out how to touch the horn without instantly dying however (he remembered Ares warnings well enough when he'd been instructing on its collection!) there was one, rather yawning hole in Sulphur's suggestion.

"We save Whisper, and 'High'n Mighty', as he dubbed him, is gonna notice him eventually unless he finds some way to hide where he'll never get into any trouble or have any kind of life. I can't see him readily agreeing to that. And you know he's probably gonna find his way back to Koyan, maybe lead trouble right to Alvaka."

He was of course skipping over the part where Whisper potentially reuniting with Koyan was probably going to be a kick in the teeth for the poor Elf.

The portal left a scorch mark on the ground that was fast fading. Lexius spent a long while silently studying the place where the demon had disappeared before finally looking back to Mesteno.

"He was telling the truth. How he was telling it, however, is up for interpretation." Demons were great liars, but they were really at their most dangerous when they decided to apply their skills to the truth. They could certainly weave it in very interesting ways. "But his concern for Whisper is real enough. He was the only help I could find when I searched years ago, as limited as that help proved to be. He either suffered for trying to offer it, or fell into whatever trap Whisper did."

The beads swayed lazily at his side, contented and murmuring quietly amongst themselves, unconcerned with the all too valid points Mesteno went on to make. The Elf, however, considered the truth of the comments with a subtle frown curling his lips and his jaw working teeth in a slow grind. It didn't matter. It wasn't his business or his concern. Only their task was worth giving his attention.

"We shall handle that as it comes. For now, prepare yourself. Even if he believes he was not monitored, we should be about the task."

"Whatever you think will work," Mesteno conceded. If Lexius was willing to wing it to a point, he wasn't going to object. A little recklessness was appealing, even if the potential for an unpleasant death (and more unpleasant afterlife in Hades' clutches) did loom over it all like a particularly ominous pall.

"If we need to leave pretty much straight away, I'll have to go home first. I keep nothing here," he admitted, unapologetically. It was a livery yard after all, and he wasn't going to go wandering through Ysgard and Nidallevir in his chaps! "You probably have things you need to gather too, so tell me what hour and I'll have my shit together by then."

In fact, all he had with him that would be of any use was the rune-carved labradorite hanging about his neck. It hadn't come off his neck since Lexius' had handed it to him the other night, a talisman intended to help guard his mind from the dangers lurking in Nidavellir and Ysgard.