Strong Arms

The Artificer's Hall, early afternoon.

While it was already a dreary, gray day outside, with clouds overhead finally making good on their threats and showering the city with a steady rainfall, it had little effect on the the hall where so many were inside working on various projects or sitting in on lectures regardless of the weather. It was usually full of activity, coupled with the ringing clangs of hammers or the much more occasional explosion permeating the halls.

One such figure who was out in the main hall for the time being was covered completely in bronze armor, with a heavily laden toolbelt around their waist. Though they were missing their left arm, where it should be was covered up by various metal plates close to the shoulder. Under their remaining arm was various metal sheets,rods, and wires, as they went about making their way to one of the open workshops.

As the artificer works away at one of the open workshops, a pair of sith-makar enter through the main door. One is black-scaled and the other crimson-scaled, but otherwise they look remarkably similar to one another. They look at one another and then flag down someone close to the door. After a brief discussion that person points them toward the bronze-armored individual missing an arm and the pair make their way toward them.

Once a comfortable speaking distance from this individual, the pair look at them. "Are you Schara?" There's no trace of accent in the black-scaled sith's voice. The two of them are quite muscular, and covered in water due to their distinct lack of clothing aside from trousers. There are scars on their bodies. Wrists, knuckles, and throats.

Another sith, this one blue of scale and dressed in the white vestments of a cleric of Daeus comes out of one of the many side corners talking to a human man holding what seems to be his left arm in his right hand. The arm is largely mechanical in nature, and the rest of the arm is flesh but lacking connection at the moment to the one he holds in hand. Zeke takes one last look at the man's arm where it usually connects to the mechanical arm. "Sssa. It looks good. Thisss one isss glad to ssee it healing ssso well."

Today is not the most awesome day for Dolan. He makes his way out of one of the workshops, blinking his lone flesh-and-blood eye furiously as if re-adjusting his vision or clearing something. The other eye is a golden gem set into a bronze-and-steel ring here his right eye ought to be, in the middle of a mass of twisted and melted and furrowed flesh. A high-collared shirt, a sheepskin jacket over it, and twin cloaks over _that_, the top one still quite wet, trousers and boots complete the ensemble, and his brown hair is still damp. Clearly someone got wet on the way over, and he's still shirty about it, if the dark expression he wears as he flexes his left arm and shoulder is any indication.

He stops short as he spots the pair of sith-makar, his day instantly going downhill from this point, and sucks in a breath. _Uh-oh._

Schara had not managed to get back to their workshop yet, as they were carefully adjusting and readjusting their cargo to make sure nothing slipped out or fell. And it wasn't helped by people looking for and addressing them.

The artificer turns around, and comes face to face with a pair of sith-makar. Their head tilts to one side, and they nod. "Oh, good day to you both, or, peace on your nests? I think that's right." They greet. "Is there something I can do for you? I'm a bit busy at the moment but if you need help with something I can probably make some time."

Though the offer is there they end up looking past the two for some time, at Zeke and someone else. They don't even try to hide a small huff.

The two sith look at one another for a moment and then the black-scale steps toward Schara in the same movement that the red-scale does. "You owe money to Mortin, he has sent us to collect your payment. Now." This last is said very firmly.

Zeke nods one last time to the man he'd been talking to and looks across the room. His eyes light not upon Schara though, but upon Dolan, and he makes his easy way toward the man. The two sith do get a passing vaguely odd look, but Dolan has the majority of his attention and he bobs his head to the man as he draws near. "Peasssce on your nessst Dolan. How isss your arm recovering?"

"Peace on your nest, Zeke." The greeting draws his attention, and a momentarily lopsided smile. "It's fine. I just got wet getting here, so it's bothering me some, but it's not about to fall off or nothing." He is quite clearly downplaying the stiffness, and he drops both arms, his attention going back over to the pair of sith-makar and the artificer they now loom over. "I know those two," he mutters to Zeke. "They're up to nothing good, you mark me."

Schara tilts their head again, and the artificer sighs. "Of course I know that I owe money to Mortin, I was made aware of the change of ownership." The artificer states, attempting and failing to keep any calmness as worry creeps into the low tone from behind the helmet. "But why now? I've been making the payments as required at the given times, if he needs his money, he can collect it at the lender where it is ready for pick up as it should be."

"You will need to make your payments a little more directly from now on. The lender is not who you owe money to anymore after all. You can either pay us, or make your delivery to Mortin himself." The black-scale shifts a little from foot to foot. "Also Mortin would like to remind you that your loan has a significant interest. He is curious if you need reminding of the importance of keeping to timely payments." So far his companion hasn't said a word.

Zeke looks at Dolan, his green eyes slightly hooded. He knows that the man is downplaying his pain, but Dolan brings up a point that makes Zeke regard the two sith with consideration. "They have no sscent. Well... they sssmell? But not of... any-thing... right?" Zeke seems confused. "They have no emotion-sscent." There. He's pinned down the wrongness.

"They're employed by fiends." Dolan's tone is dark, flat, and utterly devoid of any of his usual humor. Someone is in a _mood_. "It's not impossible that they _are_ fiends." His flesh and blood eye narrows, and he reaches for the stylized dragon around his neck. "Holy Sunlord, show me the presence of Your enemies," he murmurs, the prayer almost lost in the din, but he looks up, and if anything, the scowl deepens. "Spot on. I've tangled with these assholes before. We'd better give her a hand."

With that, he starts in the direction of the tableau.

"The lender just told me that the debt was bought out though, not that I needed to change how payments were handled." The artificer answered, growing a bit more confused and concerned by the moment. "I know how the interest is, that's why I made sure to have the gold ready ahead of time. But I don't have it right now, so if you can wait, I'll go talk to the lender and get it for you, is that alright?"

The black-scale looks Schara up and down. Then looks at his companion. There's a brief silence and then he speaks up again. "And we are just supposed to trust that you will not run off and not pay?" He lifts a claw and tuts Schara. "How about some collateral? That armor of yours should suffice. You leave it with us and when you have the money we will give it back to you."

Zeke looks alarmed by Dolan's words, but he nods eagerly enough. If there are fiends in the room, he has little desire to allow them to run rampant. So he follows in Dolan's wake like a tall blue shadow. His quarterstaff 'walking stick' making quiet clicking noises as he walks along. It echoes the sound of crystal. Though both are lost to any but those close to him given the noise of the area.

Dolan glances back only once at Zeke, but the glint in his eye is not a nice one, and he makes no attempt to hide or conceal his identity. "You. I wondered how long it would be before you showed yourself, after you ran off with your tails between your legs. What are you doing here?" His tone as he stares hard and none-too-kindly at the pair of sith-makar is one of challenge. He doesn't even look at or speak to the artificer, yet.

GAME: Dolan rolls intimidate+1: (13)+18+1: 32

"Why should you trust me not to run off?" The artificer asks, tilting their head once. "Because I haven't run off yet, and was already intending to make the payment for this week?" They continue, looking past them again to see others coming, but talk of collateral snaps their attention back. "I have every intention of paying, and if you really need the gold now and can't wait for me to get it back, I'm sure that I can gather enough to make the payment from what I have left. You don't need to take my armor away to make sure I do that." They answer. "Please don't make trouble out of this, I'm sure it will be alright and I don't want any more trouble." The artificer asks weakly of the newcomer.

"If you have the money on you that is one thing. You can simply pay us now, but if you do not... Then we will require _some_ kind of collateral." They turn at the sound of Dolan's voice, glancing toward him and then going very still. "We are here to collect on a debt. It is our occupation. If you would kindly _leave_ we would appreciate it."

Zeke subtly scents the air as they get closer to the sith pair. Opening his mouth slightly to make it easier. He shakes his head, indicating to Dolan that he still smells the odd lack of scent that he - should - be able to smell. "Sssaa. Schara. Peasssce on your nessst. Thessse two are not what they sssseem to be." He offers, moving a little toward the woman.

"Not when you are facing fiends, my friend. These two are no makari." Dolan does not take his eyes from the pair. His shoulders are straight and strong, not a hint of fear visible. Only anger. "Tell me - where did you run to after I ran Mortin through? Are you collecting his debts for him, perhaps? Or do you have another employer? Are you some of V's lackeys?" There is not one ounce of humor or ease in this man's stance or tone. "Or maybe Jal'goroth, though I doubt you associate with the likes of that."

"Then who are they?" The artificer asks, tilting their head again for a moment. "If they're here to collect on a debt, it doesn't matter what they are does it, and why would you even care?"

Dolan does manage to make the artificer stop and think, before they shake their head. "Mortin is run through? Run through what?" The elf wonders. "If they ran off somewhere, who am I even paying? Are you being so forceful about your request because you don't have legitimacy to your request for payments?"

"This man is a fool. One who can not pay his families debt. Nor his own." The black-scale says with some flippancy. "Ignore him and worry about your own concerns Schara." Even so saying the black-scale eyes Dolan and makes a shooing motion with his claw. "Mortin will have his say with the man's family soon enough."

"You are not of the People." Zeke states flatly, stepping forward again until he's almost in front of Dolan, but not quite. Putting them side-by side is enough for the blue-scale. "You may look ssso, but you are not. Are you wearing the ssight of one, or holding hosstage their sssoulsss?" This he demands of them.

"I owe you nothing. In fact, I might say that you bought the debt that you owe me." Dolan doesn't flinch at the black-scales. "Where's Mortin now? Is he wearing another face? Did he borrow a different one this time, or is it still that adventurer's friend?" He turns his full head towards Schara, then, directing that stare at the artificer. He blinks a couple of times. "Are you - never mind." He favors her with a shake of the head and an expression that reads _you sweet summer child_. "These two are demons in the guise of makari. I've run into them before." That is all he says, though, turning back to the pair. "Oh, I'll find a way to pay your employer everything they're due." There's something dangerous in that tone. "Who is Mortin's employer?"

"No." The artificer answers, half hidden by a cough as they figure out what to say. "No, I am worrying about it when I'm doing everything I can to be reasonable and respect the terms of the agreement, then someone comes in, buys it, and starts changing the rules to be so unreasonable, when they were already extreme to begin with."

The artificer looks at Zeke, unreadable mostly behind their helmet, and the elf takes a step back. "You are demons? If you're using someone else's body, you should stop that now. You don't have to hurt other people to get me to make a payment."

The black-scale looks at Dolan intently then chuckles rudely. The gaze was intent for a moment and while he is looking at Dolan, the red-scale looks at Zeke and the blue-scale for whatever reason seems to take the look _very_ badly. Immediately he starts chanting the lines of a prayer and the red-scale's hand darts out to grasp Zeke by the muzzle. Zeke tries to pull back, shock played out on his wide green eyes. "None of that now."

The red-scale can't keep his claw on Zeke, but the prayer is ruined and both of the sith are backing up toward Schara. "That is the problem Schara. When you owe money, people _do_ get hurt. Best pay to the right man, and on time. I think it time we went. You know... calling people names is rude Brydion." Another laugh.

"Like I give a fuck about being polite to the likes of you." Dolan starts for a moment, but then relaxes, his scowl if anything deepening, and he is fairly snarling. "Get out. We'll settle the scores later, with the Sunlord at my back. _All_ of them. Mine, my family's, and my friends'. That is, when I've found your real employer." He doesn't move, standing stock-still, just _staring_ at them.

Schara was really not sure what to make of everything going on at the moment. With Zeke being grabbed, she doesn't even have an arm to defend him or herself with, at least until the sheets and other metal parts are sent clattering to the ground, but Zeke is let go of before anything was necessary. "No, you don't need to hurt anyone. You don't need to hurt anyone or threaten anyone's families. But if you are possessing people or harming others, why would I pay to support that? I didn't ask for you to buy out any of my debts, and it'll just end up hurting more people in the process."

"You will pay." The black-scale says with deadly seriousness, his eyes narrowed on Schara. "Or else we will come back for a limb you can not replace." A flash of teeth and then a bit of a flinch and slow turn toward Dolan. "Empty threats Redeemer." With that the two sith make their way between the two men. Shoving both aside with their larger bodies and not caring that they were shoving past.

As they went by, Zeke looked at them in growing horror. It simply can not be allowed! He turns as the pair go to leave, flinching away from the brief contact and yet... Before he can even think, before he can stop himself with thought or fear, he reaches out for the red-scale passing by him.

Dolan staggers as he is shouldered aside, reaching for his own left shoulder, which as it happens has a thick, padded leather cuff over it. As he sees Zeke reaching for the sith, he shakes his head. "Don't bother, Zeke. These shits ain't your kin. They're demons. Can't you smell the evil on them? It stinks like a latrine the size of an airship in Aestry." He turns and watches them walk out, still holding his shoulder, and only when they are gone does he walk over to the nearest support pillar and slump against it, letting out a long, shaky breath. "Fuckers. At least I got them to leave."

Schara takes a step back, and the artificer flinches before what appear to be sith-makar make their exit. "Please don't cause yourself any trouble." They ask of Zeke, even if they don't expect anything of the request.

"It will be alright." The artificer sighs as they stoop over to gather up their metal parts again. "It's just another limb right? I can manage that I'm sure as long as no one else is getting hurt because of it."

Zeke looks after them for a long moment, then turns his green eyes on Dolan. "Thisss one let them get to thiss one. They ssssaid in thisss onesss mind that there wasss no-thing that thisss one could do to free them of the ssslavery that they sssuffered... Thisss one wanted to prove them wrong. To free them." He sighs and looks at the other man.

He stares for a moment, before huffing a sigh and looking at Schara. "They will take your life Ssshcara. It will not be all-right."

"Demons lie, Zeke." Dolan's shaking now, leaning against the pillar, his brown eye closed. Now that the pair are gone, he looks completely rattled. "He's right, though. They're after my family, and me, for different reasons. They'll kill who they want, take what they want. No payment will ever be enough, and if I've followed the money trail right, they're giving it to divine servants of Caracoroth. That money is funding an evil crusade. I need to find these fuckers, find out who's bringing them here and backing them, and get rid of them." He's still holding that shoulder, massaging it gently, although he seems to have dried off some in the interim.

"Sorry," he goes on. "I'm Dolan Donnelly. If I'm right about what that Mortin shit said last time, they're taking over something from the creature that gave me this." He touches the right side of his face, next to his eye.

Schara was continuing to gather their things, with the awkward process of picking it all up with one arm. "The last time I saw people working for that person, they died almost instantly when they felt like it. If you wanted to do something, you'd need to stop him from being able to kill them." The artificer notes quietly. "That would be alright, if they weren't hurting other people. At least I wouldn't be paying for the plans they're making."

"My name is Schara, but you probably know that already at this point. You look like you need some rest, mister Dolan." They reply back.

"Pardon?" Zeke asks confused as he looks at Schara. He knows now that the demons had been playing on his emotions, but he can not apologize for that. "You have ssseen thisss Mortin alsssso?" He looks from Dolan to Schara and back again. "Thisss sssoundsss ass though thisss isss a being that needsss laid to resst sssooner than later."

"I killed the first one." Dolan's still breathing hard, but takes deep, slow breaths in an effort to regain control. "This is a bunch of demons, devils, could be both," he explains. "I'm okay, just give me a minute. You may as well get the whole idea out of your head, right now, that demons aren't going to hurt, kill, lie, and manipulate anyone and everyone they can find. They've had millennia to perfect this craft. They said in my head they brought him back under possibly a different guise. That equally foolish adventurer who defied one of their kind. I know a few who have."

He shakes his head from side to side, leaning against the pillar, eyes closed. "Won't do us any damned good to take Mortin out. He's a puppet, like those two. I've got to find the fucking puppetmaster."

"Well, I didn't want to say it to their face, but yes, I have. There's a small possibility they don't know that I've seen Mortin before, but they probably know that." The artificer sighs. "I don't know, I guess they do. If I'm going to die either way, then I should at least do something to at least try to make the world a better place, instead of just sitting and waiting for them to torture and punish me for something out of my control?"

Saying that was too much. The bronze clad figure bowed their head where they were stooped down to pick up everything and burst into quiet sobs. "You're a foolish adventurer, I saw you on the roster. So there's nothing to be done for it, is there?" They wonder aloud.

Zeke stares at Schara hopelessly, then Dolan, as if it say 'what do I do here'? Offering comforting lies is not his suit, nor are platitudes. He starts to say something then shakes his head and lowers himself to help her gather her bits of metal. "Thissss one will help you. Asss thisss one can."

The words _foolish adventurer_ get a wry laugh out of Dolan, and he sucks in one more breath, then straightens up and turns to face her. He, too, moves to help pick up pieces of metal, if he can get in, letting his shoulder go for the moment. "You say that like the words aren't repeating themselves," he chuckles, his grin at least partially easy - although it fades quickly enough into a small smile. It's a twitch of humor, nonetheless. "I look at it like this. I can be the hunter, or I can be the hunted. Those are the choices I was given. Trust me, Schara, being the hunted is flat awful. It's no way to live. So, I choose to be the hunter, get it? That means I tangle with dangerous shit. I can hide in a hole and wait to die. I tried that once. It did absolutely no good at all, and it almost cost me the woman I love. I told her I wouldn't run again. And, I'm not. Maybe that's foolish, but I wouldn't put anyone else in my shoes long enough to find out the truth."

"You don't have to make a decision right now." He puts the metal bits he's gathered down on the nearest table. "If you decide not to, I understand. It's damned dangerous work. But, you can let these assholes come after you, or you can put a stop to them. You won't be able to do it alone, but I'm here to help. It's what I do." He turns his whole head to look towards the door. "That is, when I don't have to go back in the damned rain," he grumbles. "Brightest of days to you both. I'd better go tell Andie what's going on." With that, he starts towards the door.

Schara stops long enough to shake their head and stand up after a moment. "Well, it seems like both options aren't particularly good." The elf sighs. "You don't need to help me if you don't want to Zeke, I understand and it's not a big deal, it'd probably be better if people weren't bothering you about your limbs and other things after all."

"But, I don't know what to do. It all sounds horrible and I've seen what they can do and I don't even know why they spent money to make me pay them the same money, unless they're expecting me to fall further behind. It's not a particularly bright day but I hope you'll be alright on the way home, I should just go back to my workshop and keep working and hope they don't come back in the meantime."

Zeke does his best to take the lions share of the metal bits. Picking up the largest pieces first. He lets his crystal arm carry them. Trusting implicitly that it will hold under the weight and it does. He watches Dolan turn toward the door and adds his bits of metal to the pile that Dolan had started. "Thisss one mussst sssee to hisss injury." He gives Schara a reassuring look. "He will not ssstop until thessse threatsss are sseen to Ssschara. If you join him, you will find your-ssself in good company... if you choossse not... that isss up to you."

The blue-scale looks at Schara seriously. "You are a living being Sschara. Thisss would not leave one in need to handle fiendsss alone. Thisss one... Will return when thisss one can. Or find you. To make sssure you are well. Sssafe." Even if they had their differences. This goes unsaid and he turns to chase after Dolan. Leaving Schara alone, but not for long. Not forever.

-End