Of Wayward Shadows...

[Zee]

As jereth pours the water over the necklace it produces no steam instead he sees the gem start to crack before it explodes. The flash of light and sound stun jereths senses momentarily. As he shakes his head and regains his bearings he finds himself in a garden with the same small timid woman he had stolen from sitting on a bench. Almost immediatley the ring on his finger begins collapsing down tighter almost to the point is encircling the bone itself and none of his flesh. As he tries to move he feels the weight of his armor bearing down on him. He is barely able to stumble under the weight and it takes almost all of his strength to remain standing.

[Jereth Ingsbe]

Struggling to remain standing, all Jereth can do is scowl ferociously though the look is somewhat strained as well. Legs straining as he attempts to steady himself, he growls,

"Well more trickery and deception?"

[Zee]

The woman watches the man. "Appologies, master of carnage. My master employees a field around his home that turns anything that could be harmful to him into essentially the opposite of what it normally is." She moves over to him and places a hand on his arm "If you require I can help you out of this and then show you to a room for the night?"

[Jereth Ingsbe]

Towering above the obviously fake victim on unsteady legs, Jereth looks down at the woman and figuring out the general meaning of her words he lets out a frustrated sigh. Wizards, why was it always wizards? So he'd been.... restrained. With grunt and a nod he answers the woman's question.

[Zee]

The woman helps the man off with his armor, not possessing near the bulk herself to carry any of it she places bit by bit in a nice pile. "We can collect that later." After he's been removed of all of his armor the woman motions for Jereth to follow her. Even with his armor removed Jereth finds his own weight hard to move with his now greatly diminished strength. Oddly enough where the ring on his finger had dug into his flesh he still retains all sensation in it, apparently it shrunk so he couldn't pull it off but it wasn't going to cut off enough circulation that his finger would eventually fall off. Jereth arrives at his room lead by the woman, extremely lavish, like all the others. "In the morning my master will discuss with you in more detail than i am permitted to give to you as to what is going on. In the mean time, anything you desire?"

[Jereth Ingsbe]

Feeling foolish with the tiny person 'assisting' him with undoing the myriad of buckles and straps, Jereth struggles as much with his murderous hostility at the very proximity of another person to him as much as with the now seemingly gargantuan plates of armor. One moment his ghastly features are twisted with explosive fury, the next they are replaced with an almost more frighteningly mask devoid of any human emotion as the twisted killer pulls up armor made from no metal or smith.

Distancing himself from his rage, the grizzled warrior tries to remember his discipline, letting the cold calculating part of himself take hold, knowing that if he wanted to return to the Hunt he would have to be careful and take control of his natural hostility. Smothering a sudden pang of anger at being yoked for another's use, Jereth looks, blank faced, to the woman before replying in a controlled flat tone,

"Nothing."

With his back to the door he waits until the sound of the latch catching snaps him from his stillness. Eyeing the ring on his left middle finger and the finery of the room around him he snorts in derision. With a grunt he falls to his belly, placing his hands aside his chest he begins to do pushups, rising with and falling with a steady rhythm on shaky arms. After nearly an hour he rises to his feet, huffing with near exhaustion, a long unfamiliar weariness threatening to possess his whole being. With near masochistic determination, he plays out his sublimated rage by forcing his aching frame to perform the movements of his sword training, the movements harsh and exacted with pointed stubbornness.

Finishing his grueling exercises, his near threadbare tunic soaked through with sweat, Jereth moves to the center of the room and facing the door he sits on the floor, legs crossed underneath him. Focusing on the inner sphere of hatred that burns at the very core of his being, his breathing calms and soon he is lost in the shifting red plains of his subconscious, the only tie to the outside world he retains is the same sound of the door's catch.

[Zee]

The night passes for Jereth with out incident. Not long after the sun has made its way through the curtains comes a knock on the door. Opening it the woman from before nods to Jereth indicating it was time. She opens the door and waits for him. As he exits he sees his armor neatly placed on a chair that had been placed next to his door. Leading the man down the hall she eventually gets him to a table already set with many plates. "It looks like we are the first to arrive." The woman says as she takes a seat at one of the available positions by the head of the table.

[Jereth Ingsbe]

After leaving the dining hall and returning to the small room he'd spent the night before in, Jereth grumbles under his breath, generally railing against wizards in general. He had worked for wizards extensively and they all had the same general attitude towards warriors, scorn and deride them but always hide behind them. With a snort and a roll of his eyes he shakes his head, thinking 'Well except her'. Reaching his room he stops by the door and the pile of armor on the chair just outside. Snarling in frustration, he opens the door and then piece by piece he laboriously hauls in his possessions. Sorting through the pieces he makes sure all are accounted for and in the same condition he'd left them.

Finding nothing out of place with his gear, the giant looks around the silk swaddled room in disdain and mounting boredom. Resisting the (at the moment futile) urge to wreck up the place, Jereth drops to his belly and again resumes his exercises, taking the rare opportunity of his temporary weakness to test his physical and mental limits, pushing himself past pain and exhaustion that would normally reward the average man with agony...

[Zee]

After Jereth has worn himself out he hears a knock on the door and with out waiting a small pouch is slid under the door. As Jereth inspects the said pouch he finds to simply be filled with gold coins, totaling 50.

[Jereth Ingsbe]

With the exertion of simple calisthenics having driven his limbs to near numbness, Jereth lays on his belly in the middle of the over-stuffed room. His breath coming in unfamiliar painful gasps, the gigantic warrior turns at the knock to see the envelope forced underneath the door.

Rising to a knee and somersaulting forward, Jereth snatchs up the envelope and a quick shake, opens it to find the 50 crowns. The grizzled figure begins to chuckle darkly. While it could be otherwise, he feels that this new employer, Kevin, was more shrewd than he gave him credit. 50 pieces of gold for a messy attack and theft? The old man must have known that the kills were the reward themselves.

As for the seemingly 'punishment' phase of his stay at the manor, Jereth in all his twisted logic, concluded that the weakness as a gift. The sudden shock of having his fundamental values inverted did little to break his will. Instead he took the 'precautions' of his sudden employer as a chance to highlight his limits and how to push past them.

That thought in mind, Jereth turns towards the neatly piled equipment and with a grin starts forward, knowing that the world would make much more sense once there was a sword in his hand again...