Wreynn paces in the shadow of the tavern, lost in thought and thumbing a small charm between his fingers. "The 'Good Doctor' has a brain juice formula that can help with my understanding of father's recipe," he mutters to himself flipping the charm into the air and snatching it back again. "But I'm a shadow," he continues, "trained in the art of being unseen, and unheard. Alyial was chosen to be the alchemist in the family - its the right of the firstborn, can I just take that?"
Wreynn flips the charm into the air again, catches it, and jumps up onto the banister, barely hiding his eyes with the brim of his hat. Thumbing the charm again, he notices a small boy walking by. "Hey, you there? Do you know the mage Gareth?" The boy nods nervously in the presence of the Urdek. "If you can find him for me, I'll give you a silver." Reaching into his pouch, Wreynn pulls out a small handfull of coins, showing the boy a rather shiny silver piece. "Its yours if you're quick about it." Seeing the silver piece, the young boy's nervousness faded, and he exuberantly bounded away to go look for the mage.
Staring deeply into his charm, lost in thought, Wreynn barely notices the pair approach until the young boy tugs on his vest, and smiles with delight, palm open expectantly. Wreynn pats him on his head, hands him a silver, and whispers softly to him, "Don't let anyone know I gave this too you, I'd hate for people know know that I might actually be... nice. Now go run away scared."
Wreynn sits up, nods to Gareth, and looks back at the boy. "So, what are you still doing here? Get out of here already before I make you another one of my slaves?" Trying to hold back the smile, he sticks out his tongue as the young boy runs off.
Turning to Gareth, "I have a reputation to protect after all. We can't be having the kids trusting Urdeks, the council would have a fit. Though, that's not why I asked you here. I'm looking for your council on the matter of the brain potion the good doctor offered us. You seemed almost incredibly eager to take it. I won't pretend to know a whole lot about the rigors of training in the magical arts, but I've spent my entire life dedicated to the shadows and noticing the best place to plant my blade. How are you able to come to this decision so quickly?" Wreynn pulls the a charm of clear thought out again, fiddles with it for a moment, and tosses it onto the table in front of Gareth. "Its what I want, I know it is, and I saw my brother Alyial die to protect the family secrets, but how do you give up everything that you are, even if it is to gain everything you want?"
Taking a breath in and thinking deeply Garith replies, ?My friend I hold little knowledge of your past and even less of mine. The farthest back I remember was the beginning of my training in the art that is sorcery. I am constantly plagued with dreams of the day around a year ago when a Shade came seeking my life. Even through my mastery of the elements I have been unable to banish this horrid memory from my mind. No others in Jastrey, that I know of, have ever experienced these horrid creatures.?
A chill seems to run through Garith as he says this. ?Wreynn I seek not only to banish these dreams from my mind by taking this potion, that would be stupid. I seek this brain potion the Doctor has offered us because what I seek lies beyond sorcery and simple combat magic. I seek an understanding of nature and the ways that matter function. Understanding that may one day help me achieve something that I feel is my destiny.?
Your choice is your own and you past is your secret as long as you wish to withhold it. I have made my decision and will be drinking the potion within the hour after the doctor finishes brewing it.
Tell me Wreynn what is it you plan to do?
"We each have our own path to walk, its twists, its turns, and the obstacles in the way. I've only heard myths about the shades that you speak of, but if its enough to cause you nightmares for this long, if that was the only reason you wished to take the potion, I wouldn't fault you. I've planted my blade in enough backs and slit enough throats to give any man nightmares. I've slain friend and foe alike when the cause has been necessary and just."
Wreynn leans over to the table and picks the charm back up, stalling to find the right words. "I don't know how you deal with your nightmares, but my hands are stained with the blood of my brothers. This too is something that I wouldn't mind forgetting, but a valuable lesson that I take with me. Desire and greed need to be tempered with clear thought and reasoning. This is truly why I sought out your council today." Wreynn flips the charm one last time and catches it in his belt pouch.
"You speak to destiny and understanding, these are things far greater than desire and greed. I feared that taking the potion was nothing more than a means to get what I wanted quicker, but it seems our paths cross, at least for now. So, I think that I will be joining you when the good doctor finishes the potion. It makes more sense for us to train together anyway."
Wreynn stands and follows Gareth away from the tavern. "Do you have any idea where the good doctor has set up his lab? The way he comes and goes, he's almost as mysterious as Dalgoon. That and the thing with the rockets, and the dirigible, I'd say he's probably about as dangerous too." Checking his pouch and producing two healing potions, "Do you happen to have a healing potion on you in the event that something else explodes around him?"
Ripper stalks up to the tavern, wings all akimbo and hair looking even more unbrushed than usual. She grabs a tankard of water from inside and then slips out to pull out the bench by the banister and sit cross-legged on it. She lets her shield and sword thump to the ground and starts drinking the water with two hands wrapped around the cup.
She squints at the early afternoon sun, scooting a little further back on the bench. Her voice is nearly gone, but she seems fairly self-satisfied.
"Mornin' Uncle Wreynn. The Legion must'a skipped town while I was sleepin' - their lodge is empty and they took a buncha stuff with 'em."
She didn't mention the fact that she'd taken her crayons to the walls of the lodge, leaving messages in both misspelled handwriting and rough sketches.