Bone woke. Grudgingly and annoyed. Godslayer was by the window of the tavern they were in. It loved the morning and loved talking to the birds as well, so every night Bone would set the giant sword next to the window so it could greet the morn and the birds. Usually Bone could understand the whistles, chirps and mutters the great sword uttered but not when it was talking to the birds. The giant hunk of steel understood Bone was only human and needed to sleep, though it considered the whole thing a waste of time, but today,apparently, there was something more. Something important that both bird and sword would have him know and have him know right now. He sighed heavily still a bit drunk. A pleasure he allowed himself only on the rarest occasions when he was certain he was safe. His father would have him dead due to some prophecy or other all because of Godslayer. His friend, his confidant, and the most annoying thing ever created, in his opinion. "Dear Gods! What is it now?"
The sword answered but made no sense at all to the young King. "She is near? Really?" His sarcasm discourged his blade not at all. In fact it swore that if he ignored it's message it would stop talking to him. Evermore. Bone, now both excited and a bit frightened by Godslayers insistance. It'd never acted this way before, he began to gather himself and started downstairs muttering to himself, *what the hells?*
*Groaning and clutching his head he rose up and shouted,* Alright!! Gods Damnit all to hell! I'm awake! What?? What is it??? At this point he was roused enough to actually worry. It couldn't be his fathers men, could it? He'd lost them long ago during that blimp ride. *He shuddered at the thought. Bone did NOT like heights but you can't follow a scent through the air, right? He sure as hells hoped not. But still his sword blathered on, It's her! The beginning of life, the creator of life! She is life itself! Rejoice and kneel in her presence! *Wonderful*, Bone said to himself.* An insane sword. I'm sure this will end well.* He went over and picked it up, lovingly. Holding the jewel at the top of the hilt close to his mouth he sadly whispered, * Godslayer? I want it to be her too but we both know she is… *he choked a bit before continuing* she is dead. Her last and, I hope, continuing wish is that thee and I are together. It is both our triumph and our bane that we are here now. From birth to manhood she pledged you to me. But now?*He shook his head* I honestly don't know. I believe, mayhap, you have served your purpose and served it well. For now I am a man. Is this what you and your avian friends are telling me?The sword made a noise which would roughly translate to: I'm begging you. For just five minutes could you not be an idiot??? 

Midst the towering trees and echoing sounds of the Virens, Lazarus felt right at home. Though the realm his soul could perceive was a perpetual Autumn and in the tangible world it was a brisk Spring morning, the labyrinthine nature of both locales was very much the same.  The cleric walked betwixt the seasons, the soft earth slightly giving way under his boots. Bird calls and other sounds here or there was a welcoming change to the sea of voices that the man normally experienced. If there were spirits that lingered here, they were blessedly silent. Nature was the sole thing that filled his senses.

Nocturnal by habits and vocation, Lazarus found himself tilting his broad-rimmed hat down to shield his strange eyes from the few rays of daylight that filtered through the trees. He was here on an errand, as it were with any other place he found himself. It was a simple one, however, and didn't involve anything potentially dangerous to his knowledge. There was a quaint little tavern that rested in the West-most part of the woods for weary travelers. It was quite out of the way, so there were often requests on notice boards in the smaller towns surrounding the few metropolitan areas of the basin. He had found one concerning some herbs which he already had in his possession, and decided it would be a good excuse to hide away for awhile. The previous weeks for him had been anything but restful.

Following the subtle signs in the woods given in the notice, Lazarus soon found himself at beautiful old building, constructed with care out of the plentiful oaks in the area. It was nestled into a small clearing, with crops growing to the rear, and beds of decorative foreign flora near the doors and windows. He winced a bit looking at the short flight of spiral steps to the entrance of the main bar. He had walked a long way, and there were old nagging wounds that made him greatly detest stairs. Nonetheless, he awkwardly made his way up, took off his hat, and sat down at the bar. There was no one in sight at first, so he rummaged beneath his greatly weathered duster for the small packages he kept herbs in. Locating the ones labeled 'bergamot' and 'lavender', he slid them onto the counter just as the beaming hostess rounded the corner.

"Aye, I thought I could smell a whiff of lavender before ye even set boot in here. Glad to see someone found my note. We don't get many visitors, but supply still is a pressin; need. You a lawman, good sir?" the ashen-haired, though spritely old maid eyed him up and down, her inquisitive blue gaze pausing in puzzlement at the necklace of etched whale bone he wore about his neck.
"I don't reckon so, ma'am," Lazarus replied with a soft chuckle. "I do tend to problems most folk can't fix, though."

"Alva," the woman said while extending her hand, considering the man with an interested grin. "Lazarus," he returned in kind, grasping her hand with both of his warmly as he shook it.

"Since you seem to be a man of peculiarities, mayhaps you can look into a guest I have. I'm not the pryin' type, but the man converses with no one at odd hours of the day and night. It's been a wee cause for concern."

Lazarus wanted to groan, but he kept his disgruntlement contained. He hoped to all the powers that be that it wasn't a person plagued by nagging ghosts. Given all that he had dealt with recently though, that would be rather mild.

Sliding from the bed he had only to put on his boots to be fully dressed. Paranoia ran deep and it never seemed to end. While in this place, so far, he had seen nothing and no one to truly be concerned about. Just your usual beligerant drunkards and women who were there only there for coin and not for companionship. The ones who came for him were generally, large, loud and obvious. And easily avoided, though he'd been forced to kill more than one: he hated it. They were all after his companion he was just in the way but most weren't the type to ask him politely to hand over that one thing that was always there for him. They'd grown more dangerous over the years. More aggressive and obviously well more paid. He assumed his insane father, who'd once made wednesdays illegal simply because he found it difficult to spell, was the one sending them. Though if any of his brothers had survived him they'd want this prize for themselves. He was pretty sure none of them knew that simply touching Godslayer was taking the ultimate chance. Though to him it always seemed happy, when angry the jewel on it's hilt would darken and whether it be Bone's will or not, it would take matters into it's own hands. He did his best to push all that out of his mind as he descended the stairs and approached the bar. Godslayer, for reasons known only to itself began to sing. It was happy and not showing any signs of trepidation or anger. *Bone muttered over his shoulder at the now bright white stone on it's hilt, "quiet!" *He always tried to speak softly since, so far, no one but him could here his swords song but when it wanted attention in many ways it was like a small child. If he didn't answer it'd keep asking until he did.

He made his way to the bar and inwardly groaned as the barmaids body language said it all. Still, "Fair eventide fair one. An' it be thine pleasure, my I partake of the fine ale you serve here? *Her suspicious gaze made it clear he was less than welcome but his coin was as good as any others. Her stiff shoulders once more belied her acquiesence but she brought him back an ale anyway.* Many thanks! I… *but he stopped talking as she stalked away. Behind him Godslayer chirped about how rude but.* She can't hear you, *he muttered* You know that. Why do you insist on talking to me when we're not alone??? People think…"

It was then he noticed Lazarus. He'd been around way too many people not to recognize someone who was dangerous. From his clothing, which concealed the Gods only knew what to his bearing. He seemed to be completely relaxed but to Bone? He was more like a coiled snake ready to strike. The only odd thing was, his sword seemed completely oblivious to the man. At this point he took a chance. They'd fight if it must be but…

Good evening Sir. My name is Bone and I hope that I'm pleased to meet you? Prithee, what brings you out at such an hour? For if it be for ale and company I can off I can offer you the finest this establishment can offer, and it is very fine. If it be for company, I fear my offering is much less pleasing but here for the taking an that is your will. *Under his breath he added, but if it be to kill me…*

As though speaking of the devil summoned him, the guest that the hostess spoke of had entered the bar and commons. Lazarus was not sure of this at first, but he fancied himself a rather observant fellow. The man's odd mannerisms and way of speaking fascinated and amused the cleric, but Alva, on the other hand, seemed quite fed up with it. After he'd ordered an ale, the man approached him. Lazarus' autumnal gaze met his momentarily as he spoke, but almost immediately averted to the sword on his back. It having given him pause before he replied, it was then that Alva approached him again, inquiring if he'd be having anything. Aside, he told her just some water would do fine.

"I'm Lazarus," he replied at last, taking Bone's hand and shaking it firmly. "Bless your heart, but I do not partake of the drink. We'll just say that it don't sit right in me, and I need my wits. Ain't going to protest to some company, though. I'm here for some rest."

Lazarus leaned forward as he released Bone's hand, searching the man's eyes carefully. Many people found his own strange eyes intriguing, but many more were unnerved by them. At one time, he was very conscious about how it affected people, but gradually learned to be more casual and cease to care about what may come from prolonged gazing. "What was that last bit there, son?" he inquired with no small amount of worry. "You've nothing to fear from me, lest you're deep into some harrowing practices that most folk universally detest. People, most times, ain't my concern," the cleric mused in a rather forthcoming manner. The implication being that violence was indeed a facet of his life.

"You've the look of a man rearing to skedaddle like a scalded haint at the drop of a hat,"  Lazarus stated with certainty and empathy in his gravelly tone. "Luckily for you, ghosts just so happen to be a specialty - whether of the past, or the metaphysical article. I'll lend an ear, if you are so inclined to indulge me."

Drinking deeply of the water that was fetched for him, and licking his parched lips, Lazarus rummaged about in his duster for his pipe. Withdrawing this, some flint, and a box of personal herbs, he waggled it in Alva's direction and gestured, wordlessly asking permission. The hostess' dismissive wave was enough for him, and he went to setting it alight, graciously blowing the smoke away from his company as he exhaled.

It was strange. The man unmistakably had been muttering to something that was not present as he entered the bar. Even now, with his fume-heightened perception, the cleric could not detect a single trace of disembodied energy, or even anything off about Bone himself. Disturbances of the mind were not something his senses could penetrate, however. Perhaps his brain was caddywompus in some way he had not previously picked up on? He seemed rather lucid for a man suffering from fits of illusion. Passing judgement could wait for more details to be ascertained. He found himself giving attention to the sword at the man's back once more as they spoke. He could feel the faintest pin-prick of a energetic impression emanating from it, but it was as though it were being intelligently hidden from his prying inner vision.

"I'm a simple man, and no swordsman, but that's an interesting blade you've got there," Lazarus hastily added, before any direction of conversation could gloss over the foreboding object.

Despite himself he relaxed in the mans presence. For so long. For so very long he'd lived in, not fear really, maybe trepidation? No. Not even that. Bone was tired. Though Godslayer urged him onward still… there came a point when maybe it was best his fathers men found him. They couldn't take the giant hunk of steel on his back and they all knew it. But if he were dead… He eyed Lazurus carefully. Maybe he could be the one to lift this burden from him. He seemed like someone who could handle themselves. Hell, he already knew he was. He heard the anger of the sword at his back, the no, no, no NO! Still.
Fair eventide Lazarus! An I'm pleased to meet thee. Forgive my absent mindedness. I… I'm very tired. I wonder… could you be the one?

"Could you be the one…?"

The words, at first, made little sense to Lazarus, despite his range of perception. Fathoming the many avenues of the inquiry's meaning only served to deepen the man's gravelly chuckle. "I don't know how much ale you put away afor my arrival, sir…but I cannot even begin to describe to you how wrong you've read this book," he quipped. "You'll have a right fine quilt for winter before you're through stitching together any thread of my reasons. That's excluding my heart's own leanings as well, mind you."

Jesting aside, the cleric did detect the subtlest alteration of Bone's body language. He couldn't be certain, but it looked as though the man intended to draw that strange weapon at his back. There came…a certain edge of hostility in the air between them, but he didn't feel it from the man himself. Was it the sword? Still somewhat confounded by its owner's weary and eccentric demeanor, he nonetheless slid his hands from the bar, prepared to grasp at the twin daggers hidden beneath his coat.

"If your company includes a scuffle for sport, pray keep in mind I'm not a man that takes violence lightly," he preemptively warned. "If your butter's slid off your biscuit, that's not a thing I can repair. I could, perhaps, help with whatever is troubling you so…"

Lazarus, working off an educated hunch, muttered an exorcising rite before inhaling from his pipe. He blew a ring of sage-infused smoke over Bone's shoulder at the sword, watching expectantly to see how it, the blade itself, and its carrier would react.

*Inwardly Bone sighed as Lazarus tensed up. He'd seen that tension well up all too many times in those who'd take something from him. His coin. His sword. His life… Still this was different. Bone had rarely interacted with anyone and as a child, still didn't, though truth be known he longed to. The young see time as a long period from season to season while the elderly found it a short time from year to year. To him the few years spent wandering seemed forever, but to GS they were but a moment.
Bone eyed Lazarus. Annoyed with the smoke and narrowing his eyes at the percieved insult.* "Not again." he said to himself and took a step back hand reaching for his sword, but to his surprise, it seemed happy! Glowing brightly with a rainbow of colors it pronounced to Bone, "Now THIS guy can help! Introduce me to him." But tired, hung over and stressed out he said. "Fine."
Flipping the leather cover from the jewel on the hilt of the sword he said, "Lazarus? Meet God Slayer. Easily the most annoying… thing… you'll ever meet. *mutter* I feel for you. Anyway it would know you and talk to you, I've no idea why." Behind him the usually quiescent stone glowed brilliantly and except for Bone, spake to another.
"Please forgive my charge. He's not all that bright but he's mine and he's got something I need him to do eventually. Not now, of course, as he's obviously too stupid to do much more than walk and swing me around."
Bone's visage darkened, "Hey! You stupid piece of… Hey!!!"
Wryly Godslayer added, "You see what I have to work with here?"