Chapter the Third, Silent Woman Keep

[Murometz]

Chapter II, The Road to Canagadi is complete

Herein, we will begin Chapter III, Silent Woman Keep (Not to be confused with "Keep Silent, Woman" Chap III of my "Taming of the Shrew" inspired RP )

The Roster:
Iskander (Tagu)
Zuan Coursi
Anquetiti
Inan
Saano
Nisher Stryne

[Murometz]

The Spiked Rose was a nice inn. No doubt whoever originally decided to build it in the foothills of this peculiar little county, catering as it did, to those traveling here for spices, or for those about to traverse the Great Mountains, was an enterprising sort.

The companions, as usual their thoughts their own, broke fast over rashers of smoked bacon, some rather large eggs of some unidentifiable birds, and of course, since they were in Canagadi, an aromatic nog, spiced with clove, cinnamon, and cardamom.

Anquetiti ate and studied her companions, with a wayward eye toward other inn clientele, always on the look-out for "witch-hunters" or "marks".
-----
Nisher kept thinking of his strange encounter with Alnab Rugen back in Zamorza, and itching to open the strange porcelain jug he had stolen from Bulvan, the Soul-Merchant.
-----
Inan ate silently. For his part, he had recognized Nisher's jug for what it was, when he had spied it momentarily, as the spellwriter kept examining the vessel as they rode the previous night. Inan had seen them before. To most, the painted swirls on the rather plain looking jug were simply a design, but Inan recognized the symbols. Unstopping that jug would release a djinn, and according to the markings Inan could see, not a friendly one....

Inan studied Nisher as the latter ate and stared at his jug.
-----
Zuan was done with his breakfast quickly, and was now quizzing the innkeep on the whereabouts of his new "spice patch". The innkeep examined the document, and shook his head slowly. This place I know he says, it is not far from the accursed keep you asked me about as well. Two hours through the mountain-pass in the same direction as the Silent Women, he explains.
-----
Saano was checking his equipment, with a serious expression, and brows furrowed...and probably lost in debate with his dear sister. After all, perhaps before the day was even out, he would attempt to perform a Demonic Dispiritation inside the walls of an unknown monastery.
-----
Iskander and Tagu spoke in hushed tones. There was a man inside the inn, eating as well, and staring at Iskander conspicuously, that Iskander recognized. None other than the Scarred Pimpernel, Leduardo Galze, an obnoxious duelist, who traveled the lands challenging all he met to duels with his rapier, and who Iskander had gotten the better of, once, a long time ago....

Finished with his egg, the man called Leduardo Galze stood up form his table, with a show of flourish, and approached Iskander head-on, stopping within inches of the seated man.

"It is you!" he says, and involuntarily fingers the long scar along his neck. "Long have I sought you, to exact my revenge! It is me, Iskander, Leduardo Galze, the Scarred Pimpernel, greatest duelist in all of the Sultanate's many lands!" Leduardo seemed to speak as some great "hero" would to an old draconic adversary of legend.

"Fate has been kind to me. Here you are. Shall we commence?" he asks and fingers his rapier in its sheath. "But this time, you shall not humiliate me! This time we duel to the death, and i shall run you through, then laugh as you bleed out!"

Leduardo was extremely annoying. Tagu rolled his eyes.

[valadaar]

Iskander answered with a broad smile.  He really didn't want this right now, but since the fool was insisting.

"Of course, dear friend.  We really should finish the matter, but please let me finish my meal with my friends.  Then we shall go outside so my blood does not stain this fine place."

As he spoke, he carefully put a foot against the table, bracing it.  Preparing it.

Iskander is going to kick the table into boo-boo, the second he seems to head away from his seat, or, if lingers too long. My preference is once his eye contact is broken.

"So, is that fair for you? Surely you would like a condemned man eat his last meal?"

[Murometz]

"Uh--" Leduardo paused in his response, a bit taken aback by Iskander's smile (most were) which seemed to portend pain, and likewise annoyed that his bold challenge was met with such indifference by this man he had been hunting for the better part of three years.

"Uh--yes, finish your meal then. You are right, it shall be your last!" Leduardo the braggart now recovered and looked around the taproom. Spying Anquetiti he smiles, picks a rose from his waist, and tosses it at the half-nephilim. "Ah, a beauty in these parts...so rare" Leduardo grins, making sure she can spy his dimples, "Perhaps my dear, you would wish to witness how *I*, Leduardo Galze, the Scarred Pimpernel, Master of Rapier and Wit, Duelist extraordinaire, carve up this blackguard, and then later, shower Leduardo with hugs and kisses? Come outside, any who wish to witness my fine blade-work and--"

(rolls involved)

Leduardo did not finish his boast. Instead his face and body met wooden table with a thunderous crash, as Iskander shoved it suddenly and violently into the babbling duelist. Moments later, Leduardo lay sprawled on the floor of the inn, unconscious.

[valadaar]

"Care to shower him in hugs and kisses now, my Lady? He is certainly quieter now", Iskander said as he righted the table.

He leaned down and took the braggart's sword, and his pouch, and anything obviously valuable that can be palmed without too much effort. 

The fellow indeed came a very long way to find Iskander.  The fact he succeeded in finding him bothered him - he was here largely though happenstance. Iskander was not a big believer in coincidence.

"Tagu, mind showing this fine fellow the door? Make sure his landing is _memorable_ if you can.  He has made quite enough disturbance for today and I would hate to have to kill him."

[Dozus]

Zuan thanked the innkeep and turned from the counter. Rather than discourage him, the somewhat bewildered proprietor had put more wind into his sails. Its proximity to the "accursed" abbey could potentially be a boon. Places called "cursed" had their own unique economies: people avoided them for a reason, and even the most obnoxious place could be found to have some value. This would only mean the patch of land had undiscovered value that only his trained eye might reveal.

The priest was lost in though so much he nearly tripped over Leduardo Galze's sprawled form as he walked through the room. He raised a curious eyebrow at his two soldier companions. "If you are finished with your... friend here," he said, stepping gingerly past the duelist, "I suggest we pack to move soon. I have a holding of land near the cloister I should like to survey along the way. It will provide a brief respite for us to luncheon on our trip."

He sat down at an empty table and produced a closed ink well, a pen, and a parchment from a pouch at his belt. He began to write:

"By the merciful discount of the Divine Broker, Zuan Coursi, Merchant Quaternary of the Divine Way, to Azrec d'Atayde, Apprentice Quinary, greetings:

We have arrived in relative safety. Inform Joachim Ebellos that several have taken themselves upon our retinue. Be sure he keeps our signed contracts later; these esteemed friends that have joined us may later suggest they deserve a portion of our earnings, and Joachim need be ready to prove his original dealings.

Send nothing by way of Zamorza - the city has the pest, or at least they claim. Either way, it should be a poor investment. Redirect any trade to by the neighboring routes.

I have acquired a parcel of land in Canagadi: a clove field near the monastery. I shall inspect it later today and will write again regarding its value when I have the chance.

Return correspondence to me to this inn. I shall leave instructions with the innkeeper. I expect we will stay with the Silent Women, but given the situation there, I cannot trust their abbess will not have my letters inspected.

I expect full report and a copied ledger of our business in Abodroc from you. Continue to prove the trust I have granted you, esteemed apprenticed.

May the highest dealings of the Divine Broker concede, I pray, to your piety, sublimity of bargaining, profundity of acumen, etc., etc."

Folding the document and sealing it with wax from the table's candle, he returned to the desk of the innkeeper. "Sir, I find I must post a letter." He presented it, with five cobres neatly arranged on top. "I trust you will find it to a reliable courier, and secure any correspondence that arrives here for myself?"

[EchoMirage]

Anquetiti
She gave the braggart one raised eyebrow - there was little of interest there... until the table impacted his face, which she commented with a hearty laugh and almost choking on the spiced nog.
There was much merriment to be had by their band as Leduardo landed outside, in the water trough. "Let the mules shower him with kisses!" she cheered, but was prepared in case the dunce came back in, perhaps with a band of similar simians.

Much merriment - except for Saano.
The nephilim sat next to him, cradling a glass of nog. "Why don't you delight at a fool's just reward? What is so somber that a braggart's well-timed humbling does not draw a smile?"

[Chaosmark]

Saano

...realize that we still know almost nothing of the necessary rituals, right? While normally Saano would cheerfully discuss anything with his sister, they had been going at it for a few days now, and at this point, he was rather sick of the constant nagging.

No, I completely forgot that, despite you bringing it up every two minutes for the past three days. Yes, I know the quicksilver isn't going to work all on its own. Yes, we'll have to make sure the priestesses are safely locked out of the room. I'm not a complete idiot.

The scorn in her reply was hot enough to melt steel. Could've fooled me. Only an idiot would head into an exorcism without knowing exactly the ritual needed to banish the entity.

I'm sick of this argument. For once in my life, I really don't want to talk to you.

Intentionally pushing his attention outward, Saano took stock of the resolving situation between Leduardo Galze and Iskander, silently cheering his companion as Fixer quickly trumped pompous duelist. Anquetiti caught his attention with her question, and he forced a smile for her benefit, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I find it as delightful as always. I'm simply distracted by what complications the rest of the day might bring. Nothing to worry yourself over."

[EchoMirage]

"Do not meddle in the affairs of men, Anna?" she smiled. "I like a little meddling from time to time. And, for how you helped me save Inan - I think I can worry a little too."

[Murometz]

The innkeeper palmed Zuan's cobres and nodded. It would be done.
----
Leduardo's rapier was no ordinary blade. If Leduardo's past boasting was to be believed, Iskander remembered that the hand-guard held the toe-bone of some saint, empowering the epee with minor magic. The pouch contained twelve silver Tails and thirty Cobres, as well as a rolled-up perfumed silken scarf, a few romantic letters, poems, and hair-locks in a fold. His dagger was the only other thing Iskander could easily pick off Leduardo, without actually making a spectacle of himself in the taproom, robbing the unconscious man.
----
After the water-trough bath, Tagu proceeded to drag Leduardo's prone form behind the inn. What happened there could not be seen, but suffice it to say Tagu was good at following instructions. For a few cobres more, the innkeeper even ignored the proceedings.
----
An hour later the companions were gathered outside the inn. It was still a few hours from noon, and a gentle breeze ladden with exotic scents, felt refreshing. The innkeeper, for yet a few more coin, offered them pack-mules to traverse the heights, and for yes, more coin, a few Tails this time, he offered to stable Zuan's camels and the companions horses for two nights.
----
The flower-choked meadows and forested slopes of Canagadi, all purplish, green, and gold in the distance and the morning light, beckoned to them.

[Scrasamax]

Inan was quiet as they traveled, he was not a man who carried on. 'Such things, flowers and sweet scents are all too common lies and bait for cunning spirits.' He stroked his amulet, the smell of flowers had been the cause of more than one devil fighters demise.

[Shadoweagle]

Nisher Stryne

"Oi, Wait up Nab!" The scrawny youngster yelled to a lanky child some meters in front of him. Scurrying ahead, the boy caught up to his friend. "What took you so long!?" Alnab Rugen grinned cheekily and cuffed the other boy on the back of his head - a couple years older than his scrawny companion, Alnab took the role of the dominant one of the pair. 'Grubby' is the only precise way someone could describe the two children - dressed in rags, with unwashed hands, dirty knees and no shoes, the children were pointedly ignored by the adults in the crowd; cross eyes with beggar children in the city of Kinrult and they'll never stop hassling you for spare coin!
"I was working ol' miss Hagen, Nab!" The youngster grinned back, "She's always good fer a copper!"
"Yeah, a copper and a boot to the arse if you're not fast enough!" Alnab laughed and beckoned his friend on, "Come on, now; you do the diversion this time, ay?" Nab increased his pace to a slow trot, the scrawny companion having to run a bit faster to keep up due to his small stature. Instantly in 'work mode', the boy made his way to Ulaf the fruit-vendor's stall. The fat merchant was busy engaging in conversation about melon harvests to three farmers who owned properties some miles out of Kinrult. Ulaf saw the child lurking around the far end of his stall from the corner of his eye, though, and immediately stepped away from the farmers, lumbering up to the boy. "Hey! Hey, I know you! You 'nicked my apples last week you filthy child! GET OVER HERE, SON!"
When the scrawny youngster saw the fat man coming towards him, he slid his eyes around shiftily, and then broke off into a run down the street.
"GET BACK HERE YOU RAT-BASTARD!" Ulaf's face was crimson and his mustaches fluttered in the wind as he galloped after the boy. "I'M GONNA WRING YOUR NECK!"
The grubby youngster made it halfway up the street before Ulaf caught up and clasped his shoulder hard, spinning him around. "GIVE ME BACK M..oh!"
The merchant blinked as the child opened his hands, palm up. They were empty.
"Look at that man, harrassing the poor child!"
"Oh, the poor thing's skin and bone..."
"Don't see why the man couldn't spare something; looks like he eats enough for three!"
Ulaf's face was crimson still, though now in humiliation. he nudged the boy and began walking back to his stall, glaring over his shoulder, "Don't let me see you again, -boy-."
The scrawny child grinned and raised a hand, absently stroking his fingers through his long, greasy hair.

Nisher Stryne absently stroked his fingers through his long, greasy hair. He had been sitting quietly with the rest of the companions through breakfast, though he hadn't touched his bacon, let alone sipped his spiced nog. He had an aura of a man who did not want to be disturbed, and as such, the others talked over and around him, moreso than to him. He found himself peering quietly at the stoppered bottle in front of him, and spared a thought for it's contents; although that was not something which occupied his thoughts for long. Alnab Rugen and he were close, once. They had found their relationship mutually beneficial, so often worked together to get luxuries neither could manage to find on their own.
Now? Nisher did not meet Alnab Rugen yesterday. He met a madman dressed Alnab's skin. The man used to be so calm and collected; like he always knew what move to make next.

Alnab laughed heartily and threw a golden apple into Nisher Stryne's waiting hands. The scrawny youngster had made the perfect distraction for Alnab to grab some tasty treats in peace.
The two companions sat on the side of the road under a scraggly tree, looking up to the sky, only just visible through tall buildings and the tree-branches above. They buried their faces greedily into their prize. After the meal was done with, Alnab glanced over to Nisher, "Oi Nish. What're you gonna do with yourself down the track?"
"What do you mean? I'll probably keep doin' this stuff. I'm free on the streets! What about you?"
"Me?" Alnab rugen paused for some time, considering. "I heard about this school, hey. They teach you how to use magic - real magic! And more'n that! They can show you how to make your OWN magic; not just copy someone elses tricks!"
"You mean those Spellwriters? You wanna be one o' them?" Nisher Stryne snorted.
"Yeah. We're free in the streets... but i'd be a hell of a lot warmer in a real bed. You should come with me! We'd change the world with our ideas!"
Nisher Stryne laughed at this, shaking his head. Still... the thought stayed with him. To change the world...

Nisher's eyes narrowed, snapping out of his reverie at the sound of tables clattering and laughter. Zuan walked past and mentioned to Iskander that leaving soon would be wise. At this Nisher finally spoke, "The priest speaks truth. It's beyond time we left. I'll meet you all out front when you're done with... this whole fiasco." He indicated Tagu hauling the duelist out the door.
The spellwriter stood and snatched the stoppered bottle, leaving his food and nog untouched as he stalked out the door behind Tagu, wiping a couple droplets of water from his face which had splashed up from the trough.

Nish sat near Zuan Coursi's tethered camels and flicked open his ornate tome, peering intensely at what he had managed to copy of Alnab's alien scripture before the man had snatched away his own book and fled. The words eluded him; and he was good with languages! Perhaps if he could find the other spellwriters who were heading towards the Silent Woman keep, he could learn more and perhaps even glean a translation. The whole situation was frustrating Nisher nearly to tears and abruptly, the normally abrasive spellwriter squinted his eyes shut in emotion. He gritted his teeth and then with a grunt, hammered his fist once onto the ground as hard as he could. Nish gasped at the intense pain this brought on his knuckles and wrist, the throbbing in his hand distracting him from the thoughts swimming in his head.
 
The spellwriter had spent most of his life systematically burning away any emotions which could cause him pain: he had suffered enough. He banished all thoughts of love and friendship, hope and contentment. Nisher was left with derision, Lust and Want. Now, seeing his old companion in such a state threatened to bring up memories and emotions long lost by years of corruption. Nisher Stryne was in a rare state of confusion and frustration, and when Nish became frustrated, the worst was brought out in him; Nish truly became his father's son.

The rest of the companions made their way out of the building and Nish stood up, dusting himself off and absently holding his grazed knuckles. Today was NOT going to be a pleasant day to travel with Nisher Stryne, the Spellwriter.

[valadaar]

Iskander paid the innkeep with Leduardo's coin and took possession of the proffered mules.  His own gear took little time to stow.
"Well, lets get on the road before any other such, diversions, arise. "

----

"Do you know anything about your plot apart from its location, Master Zuan?" asked Iskander, as much for conversation as for curiosity.   

[Dozus]

"It is a clove orchard," he said somewhat absent-mindedly, gazing off into the hills and stroking his beard. He stood some distance away from the camels - upwind, thank the Broker - and had said little since they'd left the inn. "They like the more regular rain of these parts than in the south. Clove trees will not grow further south than Canagadi, you know."

He turned to the soldier and looked him over as though for the first time. "Do you garden much, Master Iskander?" he asked with a small smile.

[valadaar]

"No, I'm afraid.  Moss doesn't grow on a rolling stone, so they say.  Perhaps someday when I've made my fortune I'll buy a villa and grow grapes and grandchildren.  But for now, partaking of their bounty is all I do with gardens."

[Murometz]

And so they traveled, always upward, though their ascent up the lush slopes was gradual. In the distance, the blue and white tipped peaks of the World’s End Mountains seemed to watch their progress.

Zuan’s twin camels lumbered on, but were less than happy with the terrain and wet weather. Iskander’s mules were doing much better. Indeed, the “air was wet with water” here in Canagadi, as the local saying went.

The narrow alpine paths were overgrown with abundant vegetation, dominated by gigantic lobelias, monstrous groundsels, and other exotic flora, they had never seen before. Occasionally, they would spy small villages or communities along neighboring slopes.

After a few hours they had arrived.

Before them in the distance, stood the imposing edifice known as Silent Woman Keep, a solid and gray stone monolith that must have once served as a castle. The austere structure seemed out of place in the otherwise verdant land. According to the hand-drawn map Zuan had acquired from the innkeeper, his “clove field” lay a mere mile past the abbey.

As they neared, crows shot out from the nearby foliage, cawing loudly, annoyed at their presence. Approaching yet closer, they could make out a cloister to the side of the main keep.

All was deathly quiet. And no Silent Women were about.


Canagadi
 http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oIaFHqkvHUo/S8Sp2IN00zI/AAAAAAAAAB0/Vpk9fFgs91I/s1600/Cantabria.+Oto%C3%B1o+2008+243.jpg

Silent Woman Keep
http://people.bath.ac.uk/liskmj/living-spring/Abbey.jpg

http://www.gomio.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/Cloister-Evora-Portugal-Hostels-Gomio.png

[Murometz]

The companions took the Keep in silently for a few moments. Then the camels and mules suddenly began acting strangely. Hezzab tossed globs of spit at Maurban, who roared in retaliation, and attempted to bite Hezzab. The mules began stomping their hoofs and making peculiar noises...

[valadaar]

"Seems the Sisters are well...", Iskanders sentance was cut off by the animals behaviour.

Iskander quickly grabbed his bag from the mule and armed himself with his bow.  Animals or armed men would not provoke the animals so, leaving Djinn or magic.  Neither of which he was well equipped to deal with...

"Sorcery!", said Iskander simply as he watched for some sign of threat.

[EchoMirage]

Anna produced her bow, getting ready to dispense an arrow or two, but most importantly, looked at the world through her looped fingers, in front of one eye, to see if there indeed was sorcery around.
Sorcery could be used or stolen - or bite you in your lovely behind.
If not obvious: Detect Magics!

"Halt!" she hissed, and turned around, her head throbbing. "There's some pretty heavy magic on the keep, I tell you. Does anyone have an idea what it might be?"
"Also, do we have what it takes to beat that magic?"

But then, she considered - strong magic could be used by her, too. She had spent so long looking for something more powerful than her parlor tricks. Anquetiti smiled, and her eyes narrowed slightly. THis might be a chance - or a deathtrap.

[Dozus]

Before he could reply to Iskander, the camels began to bellow and skirmish. Zuan hustled to the animals, grabbing their reins. "Calm yourselves!" he ordered. Even without Anquetiti's warning, he could tell something was amiss.

Handle Animal check: Dozus rolls 1d20 and gets 7.

[Murometz]

The entire abbey itself, radiates a strong magic of the abjuration kind. Anquetiti also senses an unmistakable smell of "those-who-hunt-the-likes-of-her"

Zuan is unable to calm the camels. Hezzab and Maurban act greatly agitated and begin to get violent. Maurban suddenly whips his muscular neck and strikes Zuan in the shoulder, sending him stumbling into Hezzab's flank with some force. Hezzab spins around at the new affront, despite Zuan's hold on his reins, and snaps his drooling jaws at Zuan's face barely missing!
(20:25:20) ChatBot: Murometz rolls 1d20 and gets 12.(20:25:26) ChatBot: Murometz rolls 1d20 and gets 5.

Meanwhile Tagu tried to calm the braying mules, with slightly more success...almost as though these animals, having traveled here before, are not as put off as the camels. Still unless Tagu remained in place, holding their reins, it seemed they would trot off in random directions. Iskander ignored the animals and stood ready with notched bow.

Nisher, Anquetiti and Inan meanwhile spied a figure emerging from an archway of the cloister. A tall woman seemingly, wrapped head to toe in some snow-white kaftan of sammite with a squarish headdress, which hid her face except for her cold-blue eyes.

She emerged then stopped some fifty feet away from all the commotion and regarded the interlopers silently, her body rigid, her intent unknowable..

Saano nods almost imperceptibly to himself. The pack-beasts' behavior was not a surprise to the Midnight Guardian. Animals sensed the demonic, long before humans ever did.

[Shadoweagle]

Nisher Stryne had been a recluse through most of the journey, keeping several paces behind the rest of the group and peering away at the scenery without really -seeing- the luscious foliage or the rolling hills and slopes. Inbetween these spatial staring episodes, Nisher would be seen perusing his book; either writing small etchings of a work-in-progress, or diligently studying Alnab's scrawlings without progress after which he would growl in frustration and go back to observing the countryside. Any attempts at conversing with the spellwriter - which were relatively few, since he was not the most enjoyable member of the group at the best of times - were met with cold stares and short, one worded answers.

Finally, they reached the stone construct of the Silent Woman's Keep. Nisher absently tugged on one of his sleeves of Sacrificial Vellum which was tied around his belt. Magic buzzed in the air around this place, and Anquetiti's observation confirmed it. To her words, he glanced at the woman and shrugged, "Magic may be present, but need not always be feared. I, for one, would like to see more!" the spellwriter took a step to the side when the animals began their nattering and odd behaviour. "Vicious beasts!" Uttered Nisher as he glared at the animal he had just recently dismounted from then over to Zuan who was being battered by his own camels, "Come now, priest; can you not control your own property!?" Nisher frowned and peered over the cloister, just as a woman - presumably one of the 'silent women' - walked through a doorway to observe the group.

"And what is this? One of the silent women, I assume?" Nisher Stryne gestured to the group at large, "Come now. Tie your animals some yards back on the path if they cannot handle this place and let us investigate! Hello the keep!" The last words were shouted to the woman as Nisher walked forth towards the woman.

[Chaosmark]

Saano

His mount started to stir as Hezzab and Maurban began spitting and biting at each other, but Saano quickly reined it in. In a place as off-putting as this, it was no wonder they were uneasy. He didn't draw the bow from his back, but he did shrug his shoulders to loosen it in case something unseen was lurking.

Could the demonic corruption have spread to the rest of the sisters? Nothing he had read suggested the B'kakor had that power, but the one thing you could always count on with demons is that they never do what you suspect. And the way the keep felt, combined with Anna's warning of magic, put every hunter and Guardian instinct he had on edge.

Well, nothing could be gained if nothing was risked. He dismounted and kept his reins in-hand, guiding the horse along with him as he moved forward along with Nisher to talk to the woman waiting.

"Good morning! Are you one of the sisters? I would like to speak with your Abbess; I should be expected."

[valadaar]

Right, he thought, half of these folks are sorcerers of some form or another.  He simple stood watch, seeing how things would unfold.

[Scrasamax]

Inan felt the discomfort of the beasts of burden, and the appearance of crows was a foul sign. He made the sign of the Unconquerable Spirit with his hand, warding away evil. But such things were gestures, in and of themselves meaningless. He loosened his belt, and drew in a breath. He felt the djinn spirit rise inside of him, the bunching of thick muscle, the gleam of it's oily black hair, and the rising lust of the desert dweller. The lust to rip into flesh with it's ragged devil teeth, and into the soft tender flesh of a woman with...

Inan clenched and cut the spirit's rise. He held the djinn spirit ready, ready to loose it if danger appeared.