Private - Exercising Demons

EXERCISE THE DEMONS

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A few hours ago, Iván was enjoying a cup of chamomile tea in the warmth and safety of a dear old friend's most humble abode. Well, he was in the warmth and safety of a dear old friend's most humble abode, and he was enjoying a cup of chamomile tea, but he was also getting annoyed by a really talkative beast tamer, actually an ant tamer, for some reason, a strange eternally upbeat little man who liked to call himself Luis. Just Luis. In a world filled with Faerins and Caenis and Felis and Ancient Dissonances and Astor's catgirls, this guy took on the name of Luis. Why? Iván did not know. Iván did not want to know. This guy was so annoying and so dumb, that his real name, his other world name, was probably also Luis.

"Yeah, this girl sounds like a bad-ass, man. Like she comes up to me and she says, y'know, I'm looking for a couple of dudes who mo' unseen, who flashing fresh tat, who got, like, bomb moves, right? Who you got? I was like: Well, I got a couple dudes who can do a couple of things, y'know, what I mean? I got a guy who hulks out, I got a guy who disappears, I got a guy who heals all the peeps, you gotta be more specific. And she's like: I'm looking for guys who exorcise. And I'm like: Daaamn! I got all nervous, 'cause I keep mad secrets for you, bro. So I asked Black Thalia: Did someone tell someone, to tell stupid fine you, to tell me, because I'm tight with someone you looking for?"

At any given point in time during Luis' really long speech, Iván could've just stopped him. Not just physically stop him. Not even ask him nicely. Iván was a chronomancer now. Iván could've done the world a favor and froze Luis in time, him and his stupid story, his stupid long-ass story. No one wanted to hear that much purple prose, Luis, Iván could see himself screaming at his face. Just get to the point, you stupid piece of... What is even an ant tamer? You're a beast tamer. You could tame any beast in this amazing world, and you chose to tame ants? WHY?!

Iván turned to their host, an androgynous person decked in white, seemingly holy robes, a full support Player, at least that's what Iván was told and he didn't really bother to ask further, Prontera. He had come across Prontera a few hours after his most recent death, that from the flying whale, who was, for some reason, within the abandoned temple that he told him belonged to a goddess named Iedi. If an NPC had told Iván about Iedi being a goddess, he would've just mistaken her for another Player. To everyone that lived in this world, the people who came from the other world, with their strange abilities and long life expectancy, somewhat, were basically gods and goddess. Iván didn't really think much of it, but with his current ability to control the very fabric of time, he could understand the assumption.

The ever-patient Prontera flashed the not-amused Iván an apologetic smile, before turning to Luis, "Did she say yes, Luis?"

Luis looked excited for some reason, like he was having a hard time staying in his seat, containing that really stupid grin on his face, looking at everyone in the room with glee. Iván sighed, audibly, as Luis seemingly intentionally prolonged the suspense. Rolling his eyes, he was about to get up from his chair, when the ant tamer finally answered the question, "Yes."

Rolling his eyes, Iván sighed yet again before scowling, turning to @Manya Boole with that scowl, mostly intended for Luis but Iván could no longer stop his face from making that face, "You're cool with this?"

"Yes."

Without turning to Luis, Iván waved him off, "Not you. No you. Never you." He had come here to drink some tea and talk support with Prontera. Luis interrupting his scheduled rest and relaxation was never part of the plan, and now Prontera had urged him and someone else to go help this Black Thalia person, at least keep an eye on her, save her from those demons. If Iván was going to do this, he was going to do this with someone who had White Magic, not a freaking ant tamer. Either that or he'd freeze Luis in time. Either option looked good to Iván.

 

Manya was sipping chamomile tea. It was all he did.

...okay, maybe that wasn't all he did, but he was as lost as a nine-year-old in a supermarket, as he quietly listened to Mister Luis as he kept speaking in a very strange language - it sounded like English but Manya was willing to bet his pointy wizard's hat that it was some strange and ancient language that must be treated with care and respect. Until he was prompted, he'd rather not butt into this discussion which he assumed to be serious and of utmost importance. He smiled at Prontera instead, quietly thanking him for the tea and hospitality. But he was also impressed by the man's stance as a full Support player. Had Manya been stronger or more confident in his abilities, he too would be like him.

Also, this other man tamed ants! That was sincerely so cool! Ants could lift fifty times their body weight, and army ants could swarm and defeat any other animal in most forests. Some ants were so strong that their formic acid could melt through cloth, and others could bite down so hard that they could be used for medical stitching!

Luis was so cool! He must be a top-class adventurer, after all! And so was Mister Ivan, who was either annoyed or perhaps confused.

When he turned to face him and asked a question, Manya was puzzled for a moment. What were they doing?

Time to rewind the conversation, filter through the secret tongue of Master Adventurer Luis, and...

"Exorcising?"

Indeed, exorcising. That was White Magic territory, but also maybe a few toes dipped into Black Magic. Fortunately, he was decent at both, although perhaps the least skilled among the assembly of four by far. He nodded, his hat bobbing with it.

"Of course I'm game, Mister Ivan!" He gulped down his tea with an 'Eep!' at the heat, before placing it down on the table. He patted his green grimoire with a content expression.

"I got your back in there. Spooky hallways, injury, dark magic, demons? Do not fear, White Magic is here!" He was relatively low-key about his Black Magic practice though, but that was also there, offered without question to the effort.

"So, who are we helping? And what are we exorcising?" This question was asked both to Luis and @Iván Carl , as he was unsure who held all the details to it. Past those, he didn't care much for things like pay and pride - he was a pro bono worker, and more than happy to give all of their earnings to Ivan since he gives him free curry so often!

 

Iván narrowed his eyes at @Manya Boole , making mental notes of everything he could just by looking at him. The Faerin seemed capable enough, though he also seemed too positive, maybe too much for Iván’s taste. Then again, Manya was a Faerin. Weren’t all Faerins technically supposed to be that uppity upbeat? There should be some exceptions, sure, but generally speaking, and considering most of the other Faerins Iván had met, he shouldn’t be this surprised about Manya’s attitude. It wasn’t like it was a bad thing, either. It was probably just Luis draining his enthusiasm for anything with his annoying voice and annoying face and annoying words.

The chronomancer sighed as he turned to Prontera who shot him an apologetic look. Nodding, their host addressed the Faerin with his trademark soft voice and compassionate aura, “The woman named Black Thalia, from what I’ve heard, dabbles in black magic, too, and has an estate in eastern Pormont. Maybe you and Mister Carl can see to it that she gets the help she needs exorcising her demons, Mister Boole?”

Iván could see it now: another death for him in the horizon. That little girl goddess Iedi had visited him the last time he died, subtly warning him to steer clear of any more dying. That was easier said than done. How does one even steer clear of death? It wasn’t like anyone could see death coming. Death wasn’t a person, a being, a creature, who wore all black and came knocking at your door. Lucia doesn’t even wear all black, does she? Maybe Madison Freebird. Hmm.

“What about me, bros? I could help. Me and my stupid fine ants, you with the bad-ass time moves, you with the flashing fresh heals… We could mo’ unseen those demons like a couple of stupid fine bad-ass dudes, y’know,” Luis said, in his stupid voice, with his stupid words, his stupid face showing the same excitement a kid would at the prospect of anything exciting, interrupting Iván’s thoughts, which only served to annoy the time mage.

“No, no, no, no,” Iván shook his head persistently in protest, pointing a finger at Luis before, as if on cue, getting a massive headache. “I’m not going if he’s going. He’s going to get me killed, and I don’t need another death…according to that little Iedi girl.”

As Iván and Luis started arguing with each other, Luis simply positively expressing his many, many benefits to the group, which were downright stupid and unnecessary, truth be told, and Iván simply negatively expressing his many, many fears and counterarguments to Luis joining the party, Prontera took his final sips of his tea. Despite coughing softly, it was heard enough to catch Iván and Luis’ attention, perhaps Manya’s, too, and quiet the two bickering adventurers down.

With a smile, Prontera addressed everyone in the room, “Luis would undoubtedly be quite beneficial to the task at hand…” He scanned everyone’s faces in the room and found a scowl on Iván’s face, narrowed eyes complementing his disagreement, and a wide but definitely stupid smile on Luis’ face. “…unfortunately, there’s a more difficult quest that requires your genius, my friend.”

Luis looked sad, defeated, but only for a more moment, for when Prontera flashed him a smile, he too, responded in the same way. Iván knew the truth, however: Prontera had agreed with him. The look he flashed him, despite that cheerful, positive smile, proved that as fact. “That said, maybe Mister Carl and Mister Boole can now proceed to their destination? Mister Luis and I will continue our private conversation regarding another quest.”

Iván nodded at Prontera, sighing, before turning to Manya, “Looks like it’s just going to be you and me, kid.” He turned to Luis who was still smiling like a fool. Thankfully. Iván gestured for the pair to walk out Prontera’s door. Black Thalia’s estate wouldn’t be that hard to find. Between the two of them, Iván was certain there would be no dragging each other down. “How smol are you?”

 

Manya nodded at the description of the person and her estate. Yes, a Black Magician summoner...that was quite fortunate! Manya had always expressed his desire to meet people who shared the same interests in magic as he did, and this person looked like a perfect example! Helping them out now seemed more like a natural reaction expected out of him than a 'job'.

"Of course! I shall do my utmost!", he said with confidence as well as cheerfulness.

When Luis offered to join the group, Manya was already nodding his head in full-agreement of him signing on; surely three adventurers were better than two? But then Ivan started his protests and for a moment he had to wonder if there was history between the two. He didn't say anything, simply 'Hmmm...'d and nodded his head. But as Luis started espousing his abilities and achievements, Manya was just more and more intrigued in getting him on the team. Had he been a bit bolder, he might have piped up to request the man on board, but then Prontera interrupted, suggesting that Luis had another important quest to handle. But of course, they couldn't have such an esteemed adventurer like Luis have to follow them around on a task that seemed both simple and straightforward!

"Yes, yes, Mister Luis! You have better and more important quests to tackle! Don't be sad!" And he reached over and patted the man's shoulder. It was a bit more difficult than he expected, but he managed.

"And yes, let's make our way post-haste!" Hopping off his seat, Manya adjusted his blue cloak and hat, obediently following Ivan as they left Prontera's place.

"How small am I? Well, I'm three foot nine inches! That is a hundred and fourteen centimeters, give or take half." He nodded at that, as he moved now to walk beside Ivan rather than behind him. As usual, Manya quick and energetic strides let him keep pace with Ivan without too much trouble.

"Say, Ivan..."

It was rare enough that the boy would actually ask questions, but he was a curious soul, inclined to hear about the exploits of others rather than speak about his own (which were a pretty meager list anyways, for now). "...would you mind it if I worked at your curry house?"

Yes, it was completely off-topic, but Manya had never brought the topic up when they actually met at the Curry House, and soon after that, they had become friends, after a fashion. He still was thinking of it, and since east Pormont was a bit of a distance away, they could speak about things to while away the time. Besides, the poor man looked so on edge, Manya chalked it off as being the stresses of running a restaurant. He needed more help!

And that was all a few hours ago. Right here and right now...

"...and then I said, 'You're a nice person', and hugged her. She seemed a bit annoyed, but I still liked her. I should go back soon and train with her more, she's such a good teacher!"

And that was the story of his brief but educative tutelage under Madison Freebird, the Plagueslinger. Despite his previous assumption that he didn't have much to say, he still decided to talk about his time in Terrasphere to lighten the mood. Almost all the stories were quite cheerful and pleasant, although the retelling of his time in Stokbon wasn't too pleasant since a bruiser had bullied him a bit there. That may have taken him down, but didn't stay down, oh no! He bounced right back up.

"So now I need to find the teachers she told me about. One...um, Grand Witch Majolica, and Lucia Mierz. Say, do you know them, Ivan?"

Their destination was in sight, of course. A large and looming manor, the kind of place that'd be fit for lesser royalty to stay in. A grey stone wall ran around the place as gates of black wrought iron swung open. It was quite a Gothic looking place, with gargoyles and carvings of scenes from stories and legends upon the gates and pillars. Artistic!

@Iván Carl

 

Three feet nine inches? Iván tried his best to curb a smile on his face and only barely succeeded. He knew Faerins were small but Manya was probably the smallest he's ever met. Not that he's met a lot of Faerins. Not that he's accurately measured their heights to compare. There was just something about a tiny person being all upbeat and positive and stuff. It was kind of like how a tiny person on berserk mode would be somewhat funny, hilarious even. Faerins are definitely cute.

He was caught surprised when Manya asked him to work in his Curry House. That question wasn't something he expected. He didn't even know that the Curry House was something in the Faerin's radar. Sure, the place had gotten somewhat popular over the months, especially when Players found out it was run by another Player, but most of the people who went there were old friends and old friends of old friends. There were other food places in Stokbon, too, but he supposed that none of them were technically curry houses.

Iván had found himself his niche without even trying or even caring at that sort of thing. He just got too much time on his hands one day, ended up reading the books he picked up from the crippled alchemist outside of a cursed town, and came across a tavern that was ripe for the taking. There was no real planning that went on behind the scenes of the Curry House's birth. It wasn't even a good investment. Most of the income that the Curry House generated went back to itself, its continued operations and occasional maintenance. Still, it was Iván's home away from home, a welcomed respite from all the adventuring, and that was enough reason to keep it afloat. For the time being anyway.

"Sure, why not?"

What was the worst that could happen?

A few hours later, and they finally arrived at their destination. Manya had "enlightened" Iván with stories of his "education" under a familiar name, his fellow Aristocracy member, Madison Freebird. Once or twice, Iván had "taken inspiration" from her identity to successfully complete several objectives. Madiván Currybird was one of his disguises, when the situation needed it, and it was basically just him pretending to be a goth girl, for the lack of a better term. Considering that most of those successful quests, missions, he used the disguise in didn't really need the use of a disguise, it was mostly strange.

"Majolica?" Iván wondered if the name was all Madison told Manya. The Grand Witch was also the commander of the Witch Ops Battalion, his commander, and he wasn't sure if revealing too much information about that whole thing would be considered a-okay. It was supposed to be a secret group or something. Iván didn't really get that part of it, though he kept his mouth shut when it came to anything related to Witch Ops. He just found the Grand Witch a really great leader, and when he joined the Witch Ops, he was at a point in his life when he needed a leader. "She's one powerful magic-user, one of the most powerful casters I've ever met. She visits the Curry House every now and then, has her own special curry on the menu, so if you start working for the Curry House, chances are, you'll be meeting her."

The other name, on the other hand, elicited a different sort of feeling within him. Lucia Mierz was part of the group the Aristocracy sent to aid the Bandit King, a mission that Iván was also a part of, actually his first mission for the Aristocracy. Lucia, and Vivian, betrayed that group, leading to the failure of the mission. Iván might not harbor a strong sense of resentment towards either woman, Lucia especially, but he could not deny he felt a little bit of a sting every time he remembers either of them. "Lucia..."

Before Iván could say anything more about Lucia Mierz, the front door of that manor opened by itself, and from it, came out who Iván assumed to be Black Thalia, "Ah, you must be the adventurers that blathering idiot talked about sending. Come on in!" What was it with Black Magic users and the color black? It was so expected, so boring, so not exciting. To be fair, Black Thalia was exciting, especially for most men, Iván assumed, it was just that her chosen palette for her fashion was so stereotypical. "Unless you're not, in which case, who the hell are you two, why the hell are you here, and what do you plan on doing with me?"

The last part made Iván frown, mostly because the way she said it seemed like she actually wanted whatever it was she thought they were going to do to her. It was an odd thing, a strange sight, so Iván simply sighed and shook his head. He's met stranger folks, survived stranger things. Black Thalia wasn't going to be the end of him, he hoped. "Yes, we are the adventurers the blathering idiot sent. You're Black Thalia, I assume?"

"In the flesh," she grinned and quickly spun for them. If Iván wasn't someone else, he'd have probably enjoyed the sight of her flesh jiggling, her exposed skin, and her textbook pretty face. But Iván was Iván and he wasn't interested in that sort of thing. He was just here to do a job, after all, and he simply wanted to get it done. Black Thalia noticed this lack of interest but didn't say anything. Instead, she moved closer to the Faerin, bending forward to Manya, revealing more to his eyes than he needed to see. "Are you a Faerin? Aww! I love Faerins! So cute!"

As Black Thalia started playing with Manya's face, or at least tried to, Iván took a quick peek of the inside of her mansion, or at least tried to. Everything was dark and scary and he assumed it smelled of dead things to. Iván wondered if this was a wrong idea. He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near death, dying, but here he was, a few inches from someone who lived and worked with death, dying, undying, undeath. It was not the ideal situation for him, and he was starting to regret coming there, especially since Black Thalia seemed like she really enjoyed Manya being a Faerin more than any textbook necromancer would. What about her demons? Where were they? And wasn't she cold with what she was wearing? Dang, necromancers. So weird, so strange, so ugh.

 

Manya nodded at the other's retelling of his experiences. He seemed to know so many of the people in here! Well, perhaps it was expected from a veteran in Terrasphere to know the other veterans as well. Maybe one day, Manya would know them as well as Ivan did! That'd be quite cool!

Meeting Majolica in the Curry House would be easiest, yes. After Ivan's description, he decided to meet Majolica once he had learned Black Magic as best as he could. Which means he must find Lucia first.

But Lucia...Ivan didn't seem so fond of speaking of her. Manya would have pressed for details, and his mouth was perhaps 75% open in preparation for doing just that when the front door burst open and a woman wearing...well, 'ritual robes' (there is no better euphemism) had appeared right in front of them.

He was politely confused as to who the blathering idiot was. It couldn't be Luis, and it wasn't Prontera, so perhaps someone else? Ah well, he could think on that another time! When she spun, Manya blushed a bit at the sight, but he was more interested in Miss Black and her magic!

And then she spotted him. Before he knew it, two hands were pinching and pulling at his cheek which was, true to Faerin heritage, chubby and perfect for squishing. "Gwueeeeh...", he said, whatever he meant being lost in translation.

He nodded at her question, as he ducked a second cheek-squish. "Yes, I'm a Faerin. My name is Manya Boole, White Magician!"

Manya was more attuned to magic, perhaps not as experienced as Ivan was but definitely with a greater aptitude and tendency for it. Black Thalia was almost saturated with Black Magic as well as an overpowering presence of...demons?

The poor lady. She must have been having so much trouble with them! Manya resolved to help the nice demon-summoner out with her problems, nodding with a determined expression.

"So, Miss Black, where are the demons? I know I'm not as experienced or as good as you, but me and Ivan, we can beat any of the demons thrown at us, yes! They shall not stand a chance against my White Magic, and Ivan's...uh..."

Well, he was well-known for Chronomancy, wasn't he? It was then that Manya realized Ivan was a very mysterious figure. Masked and hooded, he seemed more of a myth than man, and had Manya not been standing right next to him, any description of him would have sounded like a fable.

"...assorted repertoire of things that I have full faith are decidedly lethal to demons!"

Was exorcism the same as killing demons? Sure, they can't die but if they die here they have to leave, right? Or something like that...

"We're ready to exorcise 'em!"

 

"Exorcise them?" Black Thalia seemed shocked at that statement. It seemed like a revelation to her, an unexpected statement, new information that she was not yet ready to accept. She leaned back to stare at @Manya Boole for a few more seconds before turning to Iván's unmasked scowl, one of the chronomancer's eyebrows raised while one of her hands on her chest, "What do you mean exorcise them? Exorcise what?"

Iván sighed, taking a mental note to ask Portia Ahrens later if a woman's intelligence, or technically any other person's intelligence, can get lost from the brain to the...other body parts, "The demons, of course, what else? Isn't that why we're here? To exorcise your demons?" Come to think of it, why would a necromancer need other people to help her exorcise demons? Don't necromancers do the exact opposite of exorcisms? They're not supposed to exorcise demons, right? They were supposed to summon them and stuff. So, why...

From out of nowhere, Black Thalia slapped Iván. Hard. It was so hard, @Manya Boole probably saw parts of her jiggle more than necessary. The pain was so, well, painful that Iván felt time stop. As a chronomancer, that wasn't something he'd want to experience, especially if it wasn't by his own doing, or any chronomancers own doing. He's heard of time stopping on some chronomancers from strange, old, babbling magic users that frequent the Curry House, but he hasn't experienced it himself. It was supposed to be a side effect of one's over-manipulation of time. This whole thing that Iván was experiencing? It wasn't that. It was just a really painful slap from out of nowhere.

"You're not exorcising my demons! What the hell! I didn't ask you to come here to exorcise my demons! Why would I, a necromancer, ask adventurers for help to exorcise my demons?! I've paid a lot in blood and human sacrifices to get these demons from their plane of existence, from their reality, to ours, so they could help me do things like clean my manor, plant my flowers, accumulate the dark lord's army in preparation of his invasion," Black Thalia went on and on and on.

Iván could barely register what she was saying, the ringing in his ears because of that slap distracting his sense of hearing. Wiping the tears streaking down one side of his unmasked face, he tried to clarify the one thing he did hear from her really long speech, "Did you say human sacrifices?"

A moment of silence. Black Thalia stared at them, and Iván stared at her back. If Iván was not Iván, if Iván was like most guys, he wouldn't have stared at her right in her eyes. He would've stared at something else of hers. But Iván was Iván, Iván was not like most guys, and he didn't really care about any of that. In that moment in time, all he cared about was the ouchie on his face.

"N-no..." Black Thalia finally mustered an answer.

But Iván was pretty sure she said human sacrifices, so he narrowed his eyes at her. He wondered if he should pursue that line of thinking, uncover the deepest, darkest truths of this necromancer. Then he realized it was probably just one of those necromancer things, and if Prontera was allowing her to live, then Iván was going to allow her to live long enough so she could pay him and buy that portrait of Astor and some cat girls for the Curry House.

"So why are we here then?" he turned to Manya, gesturing for a quick heal, one hand on the part of his face that got slapped around, before turning back to Black Thalia, staring daggers at her face.

 

During his speech, Manya was quite animated, a crusader of the light and a noble soul setting out to vanquish evil!

And then boom. It seems that wasn't the case. This was made most clear by Miss Black slapping @Iván Carl so hard that Manya could swear he saw Ivan's aura shut down for a second to process it. Or maybe he imagined that bit because he was watching a pair of somethings jiggle so very temptingly. Damn right he saw a bit more than he should have seen!

"Tattoo...", he murmured out of pure instinct. But he shook his head, getting rid of that image and thought. He must be pure in mind, body, and soul!

There was also that little bit about a 'dark lord' and 'invasion' that Manya had caught on to, but he caught Ivan's gesture to his face and nodded, getting on it pronto.

"White Healing...", he whispered, a bit quiet as he stood on tippy-toes and cupped his hand against the other man's cheek. The five-fingered red-turning-to-blue mark slowly faded as Ivan would feel the stinging heat of the slap fade into a warm sensation, a tingling, and then...gone.

With that done, he turned to look at Black Thalia as well. His eyes were looking into hers, full of concern and worry for the megalomaniac necromancer.

"Miss Black...human sacrifices are bad. Because if you give demons human sacrifices, they'll want more and more...and you're human too. Can you ever tell when they'd start craving a bit of you next?"

His voice was quiet, muted, a child's fear for his mother brought into life. He clutched his book to his chest and looked up right into Black Thalia's eyes (while ignoring the nearly face-obscuring...assets in front).

Right about then, the manor shook with what sounded like a war horn being blown. Or so it sounded like a war horn being blown. Something deep within the manor had just woken up, and the voice itself was saturated with sloth and that feeling you get when you wake up one day and gravity feels like its fifty times stronger all of a sudden.

It was a yawn, a very lazy and bored yawn too. Manya nearly jumped back in fright at the noise.

"D-d-d-demon?!"

Unmistakeably so, it was a demon. Standing right at the threshold of the manor, Manya could now feel it, that thickness of the air, like everything was still and unmoving. He peeked around Thalia to look into the manor, only to see inky blackness...as well as a bunch of torches lighting a path inwards.

So there were demons in there! Surely they should be fighting it, and subduing them! Manya would have run in there book blazing, if not out of bravery then because of the rationale that once he was deep in trouble he'd fight his way out of it out of survival instinct, if not a choice. But he looked at Black Thalia once again.

If she did not want her demons exorcised, why did she ask for exorcists?

 

In retrospect, Iván could've used his time magic to heal his face, but he wanted to witness @Manya Boole 's proficiency with White Magic personally. As much as that slap hurt, it provided the perfect opportunity to do what he wanted to do. He seems good enough. They, apparently, might not be there to exorcise demons, but considering Iván didn't know anything else aside from the original, now wrong, information from that stupid ant-taming Luis, he at least wanted to know if his current partner actually knew his stuff.

Iván turned to Manya when he expressed his dislike for human sacrifices. It was only natural. It seemed pretty logical. He was human, they were both human, and neither of them practiced necromancy, so the very thought of sacrificing humans for power was distasteful. Of course, whether Black Thalia truly sacrificed humans was another matter. If it was a necromancer kind of thing, it was also another matter. Regardless, however, Iván knew that either and both of those guesses once proven would need to be shared with others, namely, Prontera and whoever else ruled these lands. If they're cool with a necromancer sacrificing humans to summon demons and such in their backyard, that's up to them. Everyone else should know, be wary, lest they grow confused if they ever lose a kid.

Before Iván could say anything, however, something happened, something disturbing, something completely unexpected. The manor itself seemed to have exploded inside, or maybe the appropriate term was imploded, but not really. It was more the sound of an explosion, an implosion, with the manor itself perfectly in tact. Then there was some sort of horn being blown and inhuman yawning. Iván didn't need to listen to Manya to know what was coming, as the demon stood in all its filthy glory at the threshold of the manor sooner than later. As if on cue, and perhaps by instinct, Iván assumed a fighting position, brandishing his hammer, imbuing it with magic that made it start to glow, ready to strike the damned thing by whatever means necessary.

"STOP!!!" Black Thalia stretched both her arms to either side as she took her place in between demon and adventurers. She stood there, one hand on Iván's face, like she was mediating a fight between two parties, even before that fight could break out, and break out it probably would've if she had not taken that stance. She first stared daggers at the demon who seemed quite apologetic and scared of her, slowly bowing its head and returning back inside the manor. She then turned to Iván and Manya, the hammer-wielding full support sporting a look of complete bewilderment. Black Thalia ignored that and proceeded to explain herself, "You're not here to exorcise demons, okay? You're here to exercise them."

Iván stood there, eyes narrowed at Black Thalia, for a few more moments, a couple of seconds, digesting her clarification. Afterwards, he sheathed his hammer once again and sighed, "Okay." That was all he could muster, a weak okay.

"Okay?" Black Thalia relaxed a bit, feeling somewhat relieved. It seemed that the adventurers, at least one of them, despite their misinformation, was still on board for the job. That was more than relieving, to be quite honest, as the other adventurers she had sought out, immediately declined her request and ran out of there. No one ever wanted to help a poor old lonely necromancer in the middle of nowhere. It was like there was a stereotype around, about the whole thing being a trap so she could sacrifice more humans to summon more demons. Ridiculous.

"Okay."

Black Thalia heaved a sigh of relief, now 100% confident that things have finally gone her way, "Okay, that's good because you have no idea how many adventurers I've asked to help me with this. A lot! A lot of adventurers. I don't even know how they could resist someone who looks like me. That many rejections feels really terrible and I've also lost some of my self-esteem and---"

Iván cut her off, turning his back to her, immediately walking away, "Okay, I'm out. I don't know what exercising demons mean but I can't really die again. Besides, someone else is waiting somewhere else for me..." ...waiting to die. I'm gonna stomp you like your beloved ants, Luis, you stupid insipid aphid... "...so you'll just have to find some other stupid adventurers to con. Laters, you weirdo."

"W-wait! N-no! Don't leave!" Like someone who was being dumped, Black Thalia started denying the truth of what was happening, bargaining in the process to make her loved one stay. It was a really sorry, pathetic display of a sad, gloomy coping mechanism. But Black Thalia wouldn't be denied. He didn't want to be rejected for the nth time. That's when she brought out the big expensive guns. "I can pay! I'm willing to pay! A LOT OF GOLD!!!"

Iván stopped dead in his tracks. Did she say gold? A lot of gold. Iván took a few seconds to consider everything that was presented to him. The necromancer was going to pay a lot of gold for him to exercise, not exorcise, her demons, whatever that mean, a lot of gold that he could use to buy that painting of Astor and his cat girls for the Curry House. It wasn't a hard decision to make, really. "Did you say gold?"

"W-what? Y-yes! A lot of gold!"

"My fair, beautiful, well-endowed lady," Iván quickly ran back to Black Thalia, taking her hand and bending a knee. "I, Iván Carl, owner and proprietor, whatever that means, of Iván's Curry House, the best curry house and restaurant in all of Stokbon, perhaps even in all of this world, cannot in good conscience just leave a poor defenseless cold woman such as yourself by herself, rejected, dejected, and possibly soon to be ejected from this life. That said, I'm in."

"D-didn't you just say someone else is waiting for you?"

Iván narrowed his eyes at her, still half-kneeling on the ground in front of her, "Look, do you want my help or not?"

"Y-yes, o-of course, come right in," Black Thalia bowed persistently to Iván and then to Manya before gesturing for them to follow her. She walked off, leading them inside the manor.

"Faerins first," Iván rose back to his feet, almost jumping with all the excited vigor of an extremely motivated young man, gesturing for Manya to go first, before him, just in case the same demon appeared from out of nowhere again and decided to eat them. Hey, Faerins were like durable and resistant to getting eaten by demons, right? That's what Luis told me, anyway.

 

When the demon had appeared at the doorstep, Manya already had his book out, opening it and turning the pages towards the Demon. A very odd stance, really. Was he planning to bullfight the demon by waving the equivalent of a red cape in their face? Knowing Manya, that's about fifty percent what he was going to do.

But it was an effective tactic, okay?!

The demon was a huge thing, shaped more like a barrel if barrels were large enough to dump six or seven bodies in. The thing must have been eight foot tall and five foot wide.

"Foooooooood?", it asked, in a surprisingly childish and meek voice, but then a single glare from Black Thalia was enough to give it the heebeejeebees as it backed away with slow and lumbering steps. Where was the home delivery when you needed it?!

Manya was, at that very moment, very shaken up. But then, Black Thalia clarified herself.

They were here to exercise the demons.

Hmmm...

"What."

That was all he had to say to that statement. He looked from Thalia to @Iván Carl and then back again. Wait, they actually came to an agreement? That was a shocker. Maybe Ivan was secretly a gym trainer and this was his opportunity to shine, probably advertising carb-free curry and ten-week exercise regimens that'd--

False alarm. He was bailing. Manya swiftly followed right behind the man. "This is great, Ivan. At least you had the sense to-"

He had barely completed the statement before the ultimatum was offered. Gold!

Of course, Manya expected a resolute refusal of such simple offers. What was gold, compared to one's immortal soul and health? Surely such a great and powerful adventurer like Ivan wouldn't desire such petty and materialistic--

Nope. He could have sworn Chronomancy was involved with how fast he was on one knee in front of Thalia. This was turning out to be a rollercoaster of emotions. But then his heartfelt and touching speech moved even him. Of course, someone who worked with demons would need the most help dealing with them, and how can bold fellows such as they ignore a damsel in distress so callously? They should not tarry, and strike forth into the foul dungeon so that they could...make the demons drop and give them fifty?

Half of him wanted to run screaming from this place and the other half wanted to go in there with a weighing scale and tape measure. But then Ivan gestured for him to enter, and that's what he did, marching on little feet as he stepped over the threshold and into the grim darkness of Thalia's bachelorette pad, also colloquially referred to as a creepy manor.

He didn't turn on the lights, considering that with the faint glow from the torches and such, he could just barely make out writings and red stains (wine, probably) on the wall, and he decided that it was best if he didn't look too closely at what all that was. Thalia was leading them through winding corridors and up and down staircases, and Manya's spatial senses would have sworn an oath in court that they were walking in circles for a while now.

But then she stopped, in front of a large door. Made of black metal, with chains lashed across it and powerful spells inscribed upon the bars, Manya leaned over to read one of the inscriptions written in eldritch language moste foule.

"It says 'Basement'."

He re-read that, just in case he got one of the translations wrong.

"...it really just says 'Basement'."

 

It was a quiet trip throughout Black Thalia’s creepy manor. Most of the barely clothed necromancer’s bachelorette pad was barely lit, almost in complete darkness, the strange writings on the wall, the winding corridors, and the up-and-down staircases collectively did not help to dissuade Iván’s feelings against all this. Was all that gold really worth risking his life? Yes. Definitely yes. A thousand times yes. The chronomancer has died before, more times than necessary, and despite that weird warning from that tiny goddess Iedi, he thought this endeavor superseded all logical concerns regarding his well-being. After all, he had a white mage on his side.

@Manya Boole , the white mage on Iván’s side, seemed pretty chill throughout their tour. Notwithstanding everything that has happened so far, the Faerin didn’t run away screaming. Maybe it was just the loyal, hardworking attitude of their folk. Maybe Manya also needed that much gold. Whatever it was, Iván appreciated the fact that he had stayed and wasn’t Luis the ant-tamer. Iván scowled as Luis’ stupid grin invaded his mind, the memory of their first and only meeting leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Stupid illiterate Luis… I’m going to make his life a living, rewinding hell as soon as we get done with this quest.

Iván bumped into Black Thalia when she stopped, having been consumed by his thoughts to actually consider paying attention to his surroundings. Manya had, apparently, taken to her side to read the strange language Iván could not understand. The chronomancer had both hands on Black Thalia’s shoulders, the latter not minding him at all, as he took a peak of Manya muttering something about a basement. No, it wasn’t something about a basement. Manya was reading the strange language and apparently the door before them led to the basement. He turned to the necromancer with narrowed eyes as she also did the same to him. “If you’re going to kill us, I am legally obligated to tell you that you don’t need to drag me kicking and screaming in your basement to do so.”

“W-what?” Black Thalia shook her head, sighing. “I don’t know what you mean by that, but I’m not killing you. I need your help, remember?”

Still narrowing his eyes at her, Iván spun Black Thalia around as fast as he could so she’d be facing him, mano y mano, parts of her jiggling out of control in the process. If Iván was someone else, he’d probably pay more attention to those jiggling parts, but Iván was Iván, and he had more, graver concerns in mind.

“I see,” he deadpanned, looking her over, his eyes judging her from head to feet. In response, Black Thalia blushed and covered herself with her hands, arms, somewhat in futility. Iván ignored her reactions and went straight for the kill. “Normally, I don’t trust necromancers but I’m giving you an exception before you’re paying me gold. That said, why did you lead us to your basement?”

Only serial killers, murderers, people with bad intentions lead other people to their basements. In Iván’s experience, that much was true. He was a part of the infamous Witch Ops, which meant that he had dealt with his fair share of serial killers, murderers, and people with bad intentions. Technically, if one considered the Inverted Spire as the basement of the Absolver, his purple god, then he had also, technically, experienced first-hand being led to strange, dark basements, basements filled with things that could kill you, and the Spire did kill two of their party, members of their expedition, and tore off another one’s ear. Hmm, maybe I should’ve dragged Portia in this. Just in case.

Black Thalia stared at Iván some more before turning to Manya, “So you can do your job.”

Iván turned to Manya in confusion then back again at Black Thalia, “What.”

“You’re here to exercise my demons,” Black Thalia sighed, still in Iván’s clutches. “My demons are in my basement.”

Iván spent a few seconds trying to digest what Black Thalia had told them. Her demons, the ones they were going to get paid to exercise, were in her basement. He turned to Manya to gauge his expression. Well, this is pretty sketchy. Basements weren’t known for being safe, especially when it came to demons or necromancers. The last horror movie Iván saw featured people dying in a basement. This is extremely sketchy. Iván turned to Manya for guidance, swallowing air.

 

Manya was just standing there, rubbing his chin as he examined the door with more interest than was healthy for a White Magician. True, if he was to die he'd rather die someplace sunny and bright when he's a hundred and fifty and bedridden or something. Not in the basement of a creepy manor. Heck, this whole place was basically the basement of the world, and now they were heading for the basement of the basement.

"People keep demons in the basement, I guess. I hear that you store skeletons in the closet too...must be hard choosing an outfit with all the bones and skulls stuffed in there."

He looked at Thalia's outfit. It was just bones and skulls.

Well. that made sense. He nodded wisely - yet another important lesson learned!

Well, it was creepy, but not as creepy as, say, attics which Manya consistently finds trouble climbing up to due to the tendency of humans to building honking huge and steep staircases leading to such places. Manya stepped forward and placed a hand on the seals on the door. Sure, usually he'd wait for Thalia to do the honors, but Manya was suddenly seized by a morbid curiosity. There was also the fact that Ivan was getting all touchy-feely with Little Miss Jiggly, and being such an upstanding guy and also an (unknown to himself) top-class wingman, he decided to keep moving forward.

But unsettlingly so, there was a kind of pull, from him towards such sealing Black Magic. Something, call it gut instinct if you will, told him that he'd need it in the future. He placed his hand on the door, channeling his scant yet sufficient knowledge of Black Magic and Spellbane to work through the door's seals.

Five seconds of intense focus later, the chains loosened and dropped, and the seals on the door glowed that sickly violet-purple color that Black Magicians were so fond of, probably since red was out of fashion

And the door swung open with a groan, the rumbling of stone against metal, as well as the much-less ominous but equally irritating squeak of unoiled and rusty hinges. And Manya glared down at his eternal opponent. The true nemesis. The ultimate foe.

Stairs. Which lead down into darkness, as well as the foul stench and almost absolutely sure presence of otherworldly demons, but mainly stairs.

"You know, you should probably have the demons just run up and down these things five times a day and put them on a diet..." There was also the fact that a diet would mean less sacrificing to the darkness (regardless of whether it was human or not). He waddled over to Thalia and raised both his hands up towards her.

"Carry me."

Well, he'd ask Ivan, but he didn't think it was wise to have both members of their party have their hands full while a necromancer leads them into a dark pandemonium, with only the promise of gold being the only reason @Iván Carl and Manya were even doing this. Why did Ivan need the gold? Perhaps he'd give it away philanthropically? Or was he in debt and his beloved was held under duress lest he returned with the money?

If he'd known the real reason they'd be marching out of here faster than one could say 'Faerin are cuter in paintings, though!'.

 

Not a few seconds could pass before Iván and Black Thalia started bickering. It wasn't the kind of loud bickering that was mostly yelling. It was more of the kind of bickering that was quiet, subtle, subdued, with a lot of narrowed eyes, glaring, staring daggers, and of course sarcasm.

At one point, Iván mocked Black Thalia's choice of clothing, fashion really, implying that maybe necromancy wasn't as productive of a hobby, considering she looked like she couldn't afford to buy herself real clothes. Black Thalia, on the other hand, mocked Iván's hair color, calling him grandma. Iván proceeded to accuse Black Thalia of having no friends, thus the demons, to which Black Thalia grabbed Iván and almost killed him by suffocation using her, well, purple god-given blessings, remarking that Iván's lack of appreciation of them supported her claim of him being a grandma in disguise.

They were interrupted by @Manya Boole 's request for Black Thalia to carry him. Both chronomancer and necromancer froze in place, the former with clenched fists beside his waist while the latter pointing forcefully at the grandma in disguise, both pair of eyes on the tiny helpless Faerin. Iván broke first, erupting in laughter, mostly at the imagery of Manya's small Faerin legs getting beaten by stairs, though to be fair he could just roll down the stairs. Iván stopped laughing, immediately turning serious when that idea crossed his mind. "Let's roll him down the stairs."

"W-what? N-no..." Black Thalia's stance softened, seemingly disturbed by the chrono-grandma in disguise, before she realized something and immediately stiffened once again, pointing decidely at the Faerin this time. "Wait, did you just unlock my basement door without my permission?! That's really creepy, boy."

Iván narrowed his eyes at her, staring at Manya then back at Black Thalia, "Why did you lock your basement door? Can't you control your demons?" That was a bad sign. Black Thalia was a necromancer, so her living with demons was nothing strange. It was one of the reasons why most people found necromancers gross. All that death around them all the time. They'd be stinky as hell. Not just stinky by smell, also stinky by spirit smell, whatever that meant. Death wasn't something attractive. It was gross and stinky and gross. People stayed away, far away, from death for a reason, but Iván supposed necromancers were just that dumb.

"O-of course I can control my demons!" Black Thalia stomped her point across. With a huff and a puff, she turned to Manya and spread her arms towards him, as if she was about to lift him up and carry his small Faerin body. Instead, she simply put some sort of contraption around Manya's body, a contraption that made Iván think of a baby backpack carrier, except this one was made of bones. Was she also some sort of tinkerer? Black Thalia leaned back, stood upright, as soon as she was done and channeled her magic. Sooner than later, the baby backpack carrier made of bones transformed, mostly grew legs that lifted Manya up a few inches from the ground.

Iván scowled, "Is that thing even safe?"

Black Thalia turned to him, eyes narrowed, staring daggers, "Of course! Now let's go before I put something else around you." The necromancer proceeded to go deep into the basement and, snapping her fingers, the baby backpack carrier made of bones that held Manya followed suit.

Iván was left staring at the door, eyes narrowed, a hand on his face, thinking, contemplating. "Something around me? Only Portia's allowed to do that." Sighing and then shrugging, Iván went through the same basement door. At least, being the last to go in, he could quickly run out if anything bad happened to anyone down there. Manya would probably scream loudly, right?

 

When he heard Ivan's suggestion to just roll him down the stairs, Manya indignantly straightened up to his full pipsqueaky height and was about to say something in response before he was confronted.

"Creepy?"

He looked around a little bit at the dimly lit rooms, the winding corridors, that ambient whispering and muffled screams, and then gave Thalia a flat look. But he can't argue that what he did was creepy as well. With a sigh, he let himself be outfitted by...something.

Before that something grew skeletony spider legs. And lifted him up. Manya's eyes might have bugged out on seeing that he was now saddled into what was a walker made out of skeletons and magic...a necro-walker!

Undeniably, that was so cool! He immediately considered a future in Necromancy and Tinkering. Imagine the cool things he could make!

As the necro-walker led him down the stairs, Manya shifted a bit to be comfortable in his place. He turned around to see the uneasy look in Ivan's eyes and smiled. "Just think of all the gold we'll get!", he said, in his usual encouraging manner. Of course, they're going to get rewarded for this! Usually, Manya worked pro bono but this time around he might need to charge a fee. Also, who was Portia? Questions to be asked later, as he noted them down mentally.

They descended without issue, but then, the hitherto faint and muffled moans and grumbles started to grow louder, as they got closer to the source. Manya straightened his hat and held his grimoire close to his chest, unable to keep the fear out of him despite everything. Soon enough, they reached the last step and what they saw...

...was pretty darned sad.

There were a bunch of demons, of all shapes and sizes. Couple of them look like satyrs, some others looked like large men with swords and axes for hands, a few others appeared to be more animalistic, and the majority was a mishmash of shapes and creatures - he could not tell too clearly in the gloom and darkness. But there was one thing they all shared.

They were all lying around, either bony as sticks or obese, barely moving from their spots. A few of them perked up on seeing the trio enter the basement, though.

"Food?", one of them asked, straightening up. Somewhere from the darkness, the demon that they had seen at the doorstep would groggily step out, peering at the trio. Like a wave of newfound awareness, al the demons would wake up, shake off whatever ennui and grogginess plagued them, and stared with their mismatched, nightmare-inducing eyes at the people who had entered the place.

Manya looked at the place for a looooong time. He took in a deep breath. He let out a deep breath.

"We want double." His smile had vanished faster than a rabbit down a foxhole, staring at the veritable sea of evil beings that stood/sat/lay down in front of them, both dismayed, annoyed, and partly exasperated all at once.

Among all of them, one particular fellow was interesting. An abomination of mechanical and necrotic formation, it looked not at the 'food', but at Black Thalia. There was no way to describe expressions on its face but...it seemed happy?

...!

But he was just one among the many denizens, and anything unique about him would be just a glimmer before it vanished as the demons started yammering among themselves about food, about how one was too small and the other stank. Manya raised his sleeve to his nose and sniffed at it. Nope, it smelled of lye and soap. So then that must have been aimed at @Iván Carl then.

 

The positive reinforcement that came from @Manya Boole was a welcomed respite from all the antagonistic energy that had been spewing between Iván and Black Thalia. If all the gold he and Manya were getting were out of the picture, he would’ve probably just froze the necromancer in time and left her there until the spell ran out of energy. That or put her under a deep illusion of unbelievable euphoria and left her there until that spell ran out of energy. Or he would’ve just shocked her unconscious. Maybe whack her in the head with his hammer? Alas, Iván really needed that money, so for now, he was going to play along with her necromancer wiles. Whatever that meant. Iván flashed Manya a smile and reassured him with a thumbs up-gesture.

The journey wasn’t that impressive. It was spooky, sure, but that was expected of a necromancer’s dungeon. That, of course, didn’t make the whole ordeal somewhat stressful or Iván any less suspicious and wary. To him, the necromancer herself was the very personification of concern, not the good kind but a gaping blackhole of pure bad luck, terrible worldly conditions, and poor lighting. All this wailing and not a single one of her demons tried to revolt? Strange.

When he finally got a good look at Black Thalia’s cursed crew, he was not impressed. Demons were supposed to be gross and ugly, but Black Thalia’s demons took it up a notch. They went further, beyond the very definition of the words gross and ugly. Iván heaved a sigh, turning to Black Thalia with a scowl. It took her a couple of minutes before realizing that she was being glared at.

“W-what?”

The chrono grandma, uhh, chronomancer crossed his arms at Black Thalia, shaking his head, “I know I’m not a necromancer but these demons, your demons, they look like you haven’t been taking care of them at all.”

It was odd, the words that were spilling out of his mouth, the idea that was forming in his head. Iván caring about demons was not a thing, shouldn’t be a thing, but there he was, mocking the necromancer because of her obvious inability to take care of her creatures. He narrowed his eyes at her, thinking that if it was him and Snowy, he would never be as terrible of a master as Black Thalia.

“That’s not… It’s…” Black Thalia fumbled for excuses before deciding to take the age-old defensive countermeasures approach: the sad, crying, lonely barely clothed textbook cute necromancer girl. “I live alone in a deserted place. I don’t have anything to feed them with.”

She stared at Manya and then Iván with those sad puppy dog ideas. For a moment or two, everyone was silent, especially Manya who seemed to be more concerned with the demons and the entire room than either Black Thalia or Iván. Then the White Mage expressed his demands. Iván smirked, crossing his arms, while Black Thalia’s jaw dropped. She turned to Iván, with her jaw on the floor, figuratively, but he responded with more smirking and a raised eyebrow.

“Y-you can’t be serious…”

“I mean, you did say you were willing to pay… A lot of gold,” Iván’s grin grew wider. He uncrossed his arms and shrugged. “Besides, you need us. We don’t need you. We can just walk away and---”

“No, please! I’ll pay… Double,” Black Thalia clenched her fists at her sides, unable to look either Manya or Iván in the eye. If she wasn’t a necromancer, then maybe Iván would’ve taken it easy on her, haggled with Manya for her, but she was a dirty black mage, corrupting souls, desecrating those who should’ve moved on. She deserved every bit of this. Black Thalia made sniffing sounds, pretending to cry and sob, but her efforts fell on deaf ears, especially Iván’s.

“All right! Now that that’s settled, how are we supposed to exercise these creatures? Are they, like, cool with squats and stuff?” Iván started doing squats for emphasis, grinning thanks to the idea that he’ll get paid double for such an easy job. Necromancers were stupid, he thought to himself.

“W-what? Squats?” Black Thalia stopped acting like a wounded deer, turning to Iván and Manya with hands on her hips. “You two haven’t exercised demons before, have you?” No one has. No one ever will. That much was certain, at least in that exact moment. “You don’t exercise demons by making them do squats. You exercise them by fighting them.”

“What?” Iván turned to the demons around them. They were far too many. Maybe he could take one or two down but the rest… Maybe Manya has a white magic explosion spell of sorts? Wait, they had to fight a bunch of demons in a necromancer’s basement two to a hundred? Iván sighed, wondering if he was going to die again, if this was all a trap by Black Thalia to turn them into demon food. “I see. Well, between this Faerin and myself, we can easily explode this manor of yours, so turning us into your demons’ food wouldn’t be a smart idea…”

“Turning you into… W-what? No, you misunderstand! Stop thinking that! I’m not killing you, okay? I really need your help exercising these buttfaces. Fight them all you want but please don’t kill them!” Black Thalia pleaded, doing unnecessary movements that made parts of her jiggle yet again.

Iván narrowed his eyes at her and then at Manya. Yeah, he was most definitely going to die. Maybe Manya first because he was small. Then again, what about all that gold? Maybe he didn’t need to die. He just had to fight them, right? Or at least make them fight something, someone, time and time again. Iván started hehehe-ing in his head as he stared at Manya. “Time for you to shine, Manya.”