Vithimiris's Story

“So you can’t seem to make heads or tales of this either, Tequil? I’m surprised.” Vegeshin crudely commented with a jovial chuckle; a man with the means to tease his mentor. “I’d figure with all that infinite wisdom you happen to possess, you’d know if this was some sort of ruse.” That haphazard smile of amusement wouldn’t erase itself from his countenance, and yet he managed to relent in the mockery of the man who sought to oversee his perpetual growth.

“Indeed, in all my infinite wisdom, I can’t quite find the capacity to understand such a trivial, boresome, mystery.” Tequil quipped in return. “Oh my! A strange letter addressed to me! It has coordinates for an interview with a man by the name of Christopher! Is he a dangerous man? Does he, perhaps, intend on bringing me harm!?” Tequil continued, prattling on with a mocking gesture of his hand, the back of it placed upon the crown of his head-piece as if he were impersonating a damsel in distress. As prim, and proper, as Tequil often came across, there were indeed times in which he’d stoop to ridiculously low levels if only to jab at Vegeshin in return. “A man of your caliber shouldn’t fret over the likes of something so petty. I doubt your elder kin would go to such pathetic extents to lure you into some sort of damning scenario.” He finished, offering a wave of his stave so as to illuminate the large crystalline piece situated at its top.

“Mn. You make a valid point. But suffice it to say, I tread the line of caution. He’s fooled me on multiple occasions. I can’t afford to let him fool me again. He very well could have found success in his last attempt on my life had that estranged pit of liquid not restored me. Still, it came with a price.” He explained, his arms now crossed beneath his chest as his eyes fell shut.

“Ah, yes. Woe is me, and my plight. Forever cursed to relive my life from late twenties onward. Such an arduous, trying, bane to my daily existence.” Tequil retorted, his eyes having rolled in the process. “You lament far too much for someone meant to be a shining beacon to those who look up to those gifted, and heroic, like yourself. Enough, I’ll be sending you there now. You’ll arrive in your necessary attire, and perhaps something a bit more quaint, and concealing, to wear over it. I presume what constitutes as quaint, in most fashionable senses, will likely fit right in.”

And with that Vegeshin’s figure fell prey to the all-consuming light of Tequil’s capacity to transport individuals to wherever he so pleases; be it a location he can visualize within the crystalline ball of his stave. Shunted throughout space, with time being relative in the grand scheme of things, he found himself thrust upon his feet lightly, but with enough force to lightly buckle his knees, at a mild teeter and a wobble in his balance. As Tequil had mentioned, he’d been freshly clad in a different attire than he’d previously been wearing. He now sported the casual getup he often wore in times of duty consisting of his usual violet and black top, his white bottoms, and the ankle wraps and footwear. The quaint addition simply happened to be a slim fitting, regal appearing, blackened duster with a hint of professionalism attached to it. Not something he’d have chosen himself, but it didn’t much matter he figured. With a last glance down to the summons, he glanced back up at the establishment with a squint and a quirk drawn into his features. This had to be the place; Tequil didn’t make make mistakes.

“Still. Why the hell did it come my way…” He murmured, a huff having followed closely after. As he wandered his way in, passerbys wouldn’t have found trouble in hearing him muttering further on about how quests weren’t his forte.

Once inside, he took a glance about and, after sifting through the various mundane lot, settled his gaze upon two unique looking individuals. Almost immediately, he found himself unable to answer a forever lingering question that continued to prod at his mental fortitude time and time again. In such a vast, wildly amalgamated, macroverse, the idea of so many mundane individuals existing in one place whilst only a few, particularly eccentric, characters seemed to be dotted around. Often times, he found himself of the idea that it should be very well the opposite. He shook the thought from his mind as he slowly began his approach, taking care to shift, and weave, through bodily obstacles. Despite having such a possible nonchalant attire, his vibrant violet-purple locks and lavender colored eyes would likely draw attention, if not the unique facial markings that adorned either side of his visage.

He didn’t say a word, though. Be it far from him to address a stranger who sought the help of another through such means.

Perhaps his sullen appearing silence hadn’t been the correct means to approach the two, but the reality of the situation deemed it to be appropriate, in his opinion. Subjective reasoning, of course, and yet still apt for the situation at hand. He’d presumed the two to be the ones he’d sought, and he’d been proven correct in his assumptions the moment a bipedal fox being took to conversing with them. And so he continued in silence, simply returning the unwavering stare from the masked individual whilst waiting for Christopher to explain his piece.

His eyes darted immediately to the map pulled out, scanning it swiftly and adeptly, keeping keen ears open to listen to the accompanying details offered. Mention of a Valley of Shadows, and the idea to avoid it, instead placing focus on an abandoned fortress. He had to stifle, even bite back, a chuckle at the comment that despite having a map, the location they’d be aiming for didn’t even appear upon it.

Then the matter of money seemed to rear its head. Compensation always had to be involved. Perhaps the foxkin could use it, but Vegeshin had no earthly desire for it. In any situation involving compensation in the form of payment, he’d always denied it; outright refused it. It didn’t seem right, most oft. He figured now would be a better time than any to finally speak up, and the calm, low, tone of his voice broke through.

“To err on the side of caution would be wise, of course...yet. You’ve no other intel on the location, in question, other than rumor and myth?” Vegeshin questioned initially, sidling up closer finally to point at him as he rolled up the map. “You’ve a map, but no definitive idea where the location may be on that map?” He added with a light chuckle. “Or does that come after one either agrees to, or declines, the offer?”

Shrewd; an accurate word, but a far cry beneath what Vegeshin could be defined as. He existed on a plateau far above a simple word such as shrewd. Perhaps he read into things far too intently, and in convoluted and complex ways; be that fact. Still he, too, erred on the side of caution. Toed it indefinitely.

He waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t need payment. I’m a man obligated to his purpose. Some call me a hero. Others a vigilante. Yet others, the obscure term paragon.” He began. “I can’t deny the fact your parchment found its way to me. That said, I’ll consider this a duty of mine, and not a job.” His lids closed for a moment of brief respite, his resonating tone falling silent for just as short a moment. “Although…” he began, opening an eye. “While my services are free, they may be a bit excessive for something like this.” He mentioned with a light grin.

If there came a moment he’d have to display just a fractional margin of what he held capacity for, well, be it bound to astound.

So the man appeared to be confident in where he’d planned on journeying, at least he could find some sense of comfort in that. Not entirely, of course, in lieu of the man’s sudden need to present himself in a more profound nature; alluding to one of two things. Confidence, or lack thereof. Regardless, knowing full well the caliber he sat comfortably in, Vegeshin found little concern as to the where, the why, or any threats. He could, likely, deal with the lot of it as it came up. His primary goal was to keep the lot of them as safe as he possibly could, no matter what trials were faced and he’d do just that.

“Fair enough.” He silently replied, before following the man through the enigmatic portal that lay before them. At this point, Vegeshin casually began to toss caution into the wind. The man, in question, that he’d taken this job from seemed far from the type to collude with his elder sibling. He didn’t fit the mold, and so the lavender hued mixed blood allowed himself the pleasure of dismissing his uneasiness.
Humor could be found, though, in the fact that Vegeshin had promptly followed the man through, and so upon Christopher calling out that it had been safe to cross; Vegeshin couldn’t help but stare at the man with a blank expression. “As I can see, yes it is. Wouldn’t it have been a bit more...Mmnn…” He began, then faltered and allowed his words to fall away, waving a dismissive hand in the fellows direction. “Nevermind.” He added with a sudden chuckle.

He allowed himself a swift stretch, limbering up a mild bit, before feeling out his surroundings. Sensory perception of all five senses seemed normal, with his sixth sense of sorts, Ki Sensory, responding as normal as anywhere else. It did, truly, appear to be safe, at least according to what he could perceive. “Quite the sight to see. It’s not often I travel outside of civilization here on Terra.” He murmured to himself before turning to Christopher. “I’ll be but a moment; that said if you’ve anything important to say, remember it and relay it to me when I return to the ground…” He mentioned.

To the ground? Indeed. Without hesitation, nor a second thought, he left the surface and began to rise upward into the air. Levitation, or flight. Various individuals considered it various different things. He knew it as Bukujutsu, or the ability to manipulate one’s Ki so as to allow themselves flight. His goal seemed merely to be an extended reconnaissance of the area. His eyes could only peer so far in the current vicinity, with trees and other flora and fauna acting as hindrances. He’d only be a moment, though, and left the floor to Christopher so as to not hold up any important conversational pieces he might happen to have.