The desert. He hated the desert, but he needed to scout before bringing a certain someone here. The sun was high and hot, and with no ocean breeze to cool it he felt suffocated. He’d worn lighter colors than he was accustomed to since his usual black garb would have done no good, but he may as well have been naked for all the good this light attire was doing. His hair was pulled up, the black salty tresses tied in a messy bun at the back of his head. Even with that there was still a good sheen of sweat already forming on the back of his neck and hollow of his throat.

The blue vein like markings on his arms glowed brighter with a fast pulse angrily; the ocean wasn’t any more pleased with this than he was. But in the distance, he could see the outpost. It was set up for those that needed to escape or wanted a check point before continuing on to the fight. He rolled his eyes at the idea of The Mother going through so much trouble for something so pointless. Well, now was as good a time as ever to use a particular spell, and he pulled crystals from their safe spots on his person.

Kneeling down in the hot sand, he began to slowly trace out the right sigils and activations. One good thing was he was used to sand at least, working with it, walking in it, and would have a stronger footing than those unaccustomed. When he was finished he rose up, brushing the sand from his knees and sliding the crystals back into place. A worn and weathered sand dollar was pulled from another pocket which he slowly crushed between his hands along with a soft whisper. When the last of the doves had fallen into the sand the air around him grew thicker with humidity.

He smirked, eyes closing as he continued to move his lips to continue the incantation. Keeping his eyes closed, he reached back to the violin case on his back and opened it, pulling the instrument and bow out. Once his chin was comfortably pressed against the edge, he began to slowly move his bow. Music filled his small area of the desert, and with each rise and pitch the humidity turned to droplets, to trails, small currents, until a spinning pulsing sphere of storm surrounded him. When he opened his eyes, he realized the water was clear, not salty like the ocean he so loved, but pulling straight from the air…? You worked with what you had.

Once he was satisfied he pulled his case around and put his violin up; latching it onto his back once more before he started to walk. The spiraling rain and misty clouds continued their orbit around him as he grew closer and closer to the outpost. This was much better, and with a flick of his wrists and a click of his tongue three needles of ice formed out of the storm and shot out into the sand. Yes, this would do…this would do nicely. There was still some time before he’d need to head back to the beach to get his companion, so for now he started a bit of…window shopping.

To say it was hot would be an understatement worthy of a good slap to the face, but in the days since arriving to the desert Rjar had uttered that very understatement just short of a thousand times. He was not used to this kind of heat. Hell, truth be told, he wasn't used to anything outside of his parents' home. But he had to come here. He had to see what all of the buzz was about. Some kind of ancient god? Sounded like an opportunity to him.

It wasn't exactly his speed to go running headlong into danger for people he had no attachement to; not that there were any that he could name that he cared for much more than one would a stray dog that happened to catch your attention in a moment of lonliness. But he had learned early on that if he planted himself at the foot of war, he would be able to reap the benefits of the victor; whoever that may be.

That being said, the spirits of the sands that stood before him were dangerously intoxicating. There was something out there that called to him; more so than anything he had encountered before. Something dark. Something magickal. Something that he wanted more than he could really fathom. 

The joints in his fingers began to ache at the thought of it; the shadows contained with them growing restless. How long had it been since his fingers had touched the rounded surface of a human skull? How long had it been since he had cast the bones and gazed into the darkness that was the shroud of death? Too long. He feared that the already minimal mastery of the shadow within him would diminish if he did not call to the darkness soon.

His dark eyes moved to the sands once more; his thoughts hoping to move something that could be construed as something somewhat pleasant. There was some sort of necromancy here. Something big. And he wanted a piece of it, even if it meant he had to deal with the pain of a thousand shadows within him. Even if it meant he, himself, had to take up the sword.

"What in the world…"

His voice trailed off as he stepped farther from the outpost that had been his home the past few hours and deeper into the sea of sand. There was something out there. A storm? Could it even rain in a place like this? He had seen a fair share of sand storms since starting on this journey, but this seemed to carrying dark clouds; pregnant with moisture.

He squinted harder against the glare of the sand and in the distance he could almost make out what looked like some kind of humanoid. Could someone stand that calmly in the middle of storm like that? There were too many questions that came to mind, and in his experience, if you had to question something more than once, then it's probably not all that you think it is.

"Hello?!"

His voice moved to the sands; wanting to find something worthwhile for a change. But a big part of him was certain that it was just heat sickness and that the dark clouds he saw in the distance were nothing more than a thirst driven wish.

But the darkness in him wanted it to be something more.

As he moved closer to the outpost his eyes listlessly followed a few swirling patterns as they rippled in front of him. He tried to imagine Kuval in the midst of something like this and found himself smiling despite himself. It was gone as quickly as it had come when he heard what sounded like another human voice. Who else was out here? Ah yes, people, the outpost would mean much more people…His nose wrinkled and the winds picked up around him as if linked to his mood. In a way they were, which meant he’d have to keep a tighter grip on his composure than usual. That was one downfall, but at least he had precious water at his beckoned call should he need it. That was a fair trade off, and if it would keep his syreni safe and alive then it was all the more worth it. He’d never admit the latter fact aloud.

His eyes squinted through the darkness of the storm that continued its orbit around him, and he slowly twirled his fingers so that the clouds would part enough for him to look out at the man that had spoken. For just a moment he allowed the storm to die down to nothing more than mist and rounded winds so that the two could converse. Well, not so much converse, more so stay a good ten feet away from the individual as he sized him up. He knew another child of the earth when he saw one and wondered if he wasn’t the only user that had answered the call of the ancient one. Instead of mentioning any of that though, he simply said, “What?” And arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

Hopefully he was nothing more than a curious onlooker, after all it wasn’t every day there was so much as rain in a desert, much less a storm. Really, he’d brought the attention onto himself and cursed himself for yet another unpleasant side effect. Even so, there was something…off about the other. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was without getting close and smelling him, which was not about to happen any time soon. It’d risk messing up the storm. His eyes moved past him to the great pyramid a ways in the distance, and then back to him, “Did you come from that?”

It was only when the man spoke that Rjar realized how idiotic he must of sounded and, frankly, how insane he probably appeared calling out to a stranger in the middle of nowhere, simply because he was uncertain if the man was real. To be fair, he was pretty unwell in that regard. A part him wanted to laugh despite himself, but he was certain that it would only worsen his unstable appearance.

It was odd. Most of the time, he would just as quickly slit a persons throat than to give a fuck what they thought about him, but this man…. there was something about him that made him want to be able to speak to him. To lay his hands on him and see what his spirit held. To catch a glimpse of the darkness therein, or the light; goddess forbid. Ignoring the fact that the man had seemingly summoned a storm in the middle of a desert, there was some kind of magickal reverb about him.

"Sorry. I…. I was just impressed by the water works."

He spoke with a grin on his face. Not the fake, overly charming smile that he had used to rope in the cons and victims of his past. This was a true smile. One that echoed the darkness that edged his soul.

"I haven't made it over there yet. I figured it was best to take a bit of rest and get my wits about me before addressing whatever is over there," he said; motioning over his shoulder. This wasn't exactly a lie. He was resting. He just hadn't decided if he was going to get close to the pyramid or see if he could channel the power in the darkness of the night.

He reached into his pocket and grabbed at the bone runes that had been constantly vibrating since his arrival in this area. There was something impactful in his near future.

He opened his palm, the rune with the highest vibration sitting gently therein, to view the rune Mannaz.

Man. Union. Very interesting….

(( OOC: This thread is still active. ))

His eyes halved unenthusiastically, thinking about the storm this new person had so eloquently described. Water works. There was something even more unsettling about his smile, if one could truly call it that. Normally he was annoyed or repulsed by anyone looking cheerily at him, but this? There was no cheer in this man’s expression, not the cheer one would normally find on a sane person. Like a magnet it attracted him, but in as impersonal of a way as possible.

Really, he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was to come across a less than pure soul so soon. Many noble fighters and deities alike had banded together to stop the attack; it was only a matter of time until those pulled towards the darkness made their own appearances. This was one such individual.

He watched as he pulled a rune from his pocket, not his preferred way of divining, but his curiosity was piqued: what had he pulled? What was he trying to seek out? His cards were still at home, but he could have them in his fingers in a blink if he wanted to expend the energy. Was this man a child of nature like he himself was? Or was this tool one of their own very limited connections?

He didn’t want to think about it for too long, seeing as this would likely be their first and last encounter with one another, and looked past him to the pyramid in the distance. There was a reason he was here, and he was already dallying for too long. Technically he could head back now should he want to, knowing that the sphere of storm around him would suffice for protection to Kuval. And yet…he couldn’t ignore the call. Once Kuval was there with him, he probably wouldn’t be able to do half of what he wanted to. The fact that he cared enough to even restrain himself for another person, to care in of itself, sickened him and he grimaced.

“What’s over there is power.” his eyes lingered in the distance before returning them to the stranger, “Something greater than us. Something I personally wouldn’t refrain myself from getting to see up close.” He nodded forward, past him in indication,

“I’d start that way if I were you. The conclave is sure to step in and right the wrong as promptly as they can.” His eyes closed briefly in irritation before opening, halved once more, “As per usual with them.” He said, before setting out to continue his trek into the undead unknown.

Rjar slowly moved the runes back into his pocket; their vibrations still buzzing over his fingertips. His interest was definitely piqued.

He spoke again. The tone dripping with an emotion that he couldn't quite place. We're just going to let that go for no…

Power. Yeah. That made sense. Rjar's thirst for power had only grown from the time that he parted ways with his past. It was as though the darkness in him was starving; desperately reaching out to anyone that comes within line of site with some semblance of "food." It was odd. He had always been manipulative in his efforts to get to the right place so that he could leverage the right people, but he had never wanted to be one of those people.

He eyes ran over the magick user and then back to the pyramid. It was dangerous. That was the whole reason that he had waited so long at the outpost. He was a strategist. A conniver. A coward. On the other hand, he wanted the power that swelled within the pyramid; even more so now that someone with a considerably larger amount of power had verified its existence.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

The thought was simple. But true. He was simply not used to having to balance his cowardace with lust for power. But something told him that this man would be more than capable of defending himself against any dangers that rested in the desert. And in doing so would likely us more of whatever power it was that caused the globe of a storm that he was currently enclosed in. Maybe he could absorb a few tips? Reap some of the benefits.

Shit.

"Yeah, I was thinking of heading that way too. I just think it might be something interesting to experience. You know… something to make a memory with." his smile moved more over his lips as he spoke; growing wider with each word. "I suppose I could head that way now. Maybe back up each other in the even of an attack or anything."

Something in him told him that the charade that he used to interact with most people would not be a long term solution to his interaction with this guy, but it would have to do until that time came.

He continued walking despite being addressed, but did call back to him as he went, “Something to make a memory with. I certainly hope you’re not looking at this as if it’s some kind of tourist attraction.” He chuckled to himself, the thought entertained him. It was always a delight to watch foolish people that didn’t fully understand what they were getting themselves into. However, this person didn’t seem so foolhardy. After all, he was scouting and not jumping in head first.

The way he spoke is what bothered him the most, there was something ingenuine about it. His words were too easy. Frankly, he recognized the pattern as it was one he often used when being forced to interact with others. When he did so it was a mask of his true self so as to blend when necessary, and if that’s what this other was doing then he wasn’t sure if he liked being on the receiving end. Wicked recognized wickedness.

He shook his head, an honest laugh mixing with the wind and rain around him, “Come towards the pyramid if you like, but don’t expect me to watch your back.” Unless he could prove himself of use there was no point in helping him stay safe and alive. Besides, he had already proven himself to be more cautious than himself, and would likely just slow him down. That wasn’t to say he was smart for walking directly towards an obviously dangerous situation, but he’d never admit it.

And anyways he was only planning on staying long enough to gather up anything he might need and soak up any experience that Kuval might not approve of. “If you are coming though,” he half shouted back to him, “I suggest doing so sooner rather than later. Follow nearby if you must, but don’t hinder me.” He wouldn’t go out of his way to harm him since there was no need, but that didn’t mean he would help him. And so long as he didn’t delay him then at the worst he’d simply be an annoyance. At best, a minor inconvenience or barely noticed at all.