WHEEEIRRR! WHEEIRR!

The machinal wheeze of the Hullaballoo was louder, tenser. She was not happy.

Killian ran a hand through his hair – sweeping it back out of his eyes for almost a whole second. His long fingers raced around the controls of his impossible airship, he adjusted runes, pulled levers, and bashed a few brass sprockets with a wooden mallet. The ship started to respond; the noise quietened slightly – but was still a ruckus in the deathly silent streets of Tyr.

With only the noise of her engines as a warning, the Hullabaloo materialised in the middle of a half-ruined house. The outside dimensions of his ship were easily small enough to fit, the ship stood eight feet tall and was only five wide at its widest point. It was tear shaped, and an off-white colour that reflected light beautifully like a shell.

Inside the Hullaballoo was a completely different story. The Hullabaloo had been created by Killian’s ancient and long gone race the Novella, to them dimension magic was child’s play. This meant that as standard all Novella technology was bigger on the inside. The internal dimensions of the Hullaballoo were more comparable to a small city than a normal airship.

Killian stepped out of his airship and closed the door behind himself. Then, he took the unusual step of pulling out his wand and tapping it gently on the side of his ship. The ship disappeared instantly – not gone but invisible. With another tap of his wand Killian hid its magical power. Tyr was dangerous – and he could not let his ship fall into the wrong hands. (Not that anyone else could take off the parking brake, never mind fly it.)

As he slipped through the empty streets, he got the familiar feeling he was being watched. Still, he moved with deliberate purpose, a man who knew where he was going. His booted feet echoed on the cobbles as he passed through the delipidated market square. His overcoat danced as he skipped up the marble steps to the magical academy, its strange night sky pattern glinted in eerie green light.

He pushed open the door with all the confidence of someone that owned the place. (He did not, he just had an odd swagger.) As he crossed the main hallway and headed towards the stairs, he heard a noise from a room down the corridor.

Instantly he stopped in his tracks, he had been here before and never encountered anyone else. It was a curious sort of place to visit. He moved quietly towards the room, his wand in hand as he pushed open the door.

Then he flashed his charming grin.

“Hello there! I am Killian! Nice to meet you!”

There were complex questions that required answers.

Such had plagued Nemesis ever since Azhizheth had arrived and caused mayhem amongst the world, down to the Gods themselves. Possessing one god to try and almost kill another seemed like a feat impossible, but it happened. They were left with very little explanation by their handler, the Voice. Was it not as almighty as most would believe it to be? Nemesis had doubted that they themselves were unstoppable. But to this eldritch being, they were but playthings in its hands at the time of its presence. Although it was eventually stopped, they were left with the realization that there were more of those things. More dangers than they could ever imagine in several lifetimes. But was this the first time such invasions took place? Any records of similar circumstances?

He scoured the libraries of Iria, Adeluna, and Sularia. Each turned up with deadends, but still, his resolve couldn’t be broken. Not when the unknowns made him wonder and fear what would come for this world next. The only other place he could think to try would be the academy in Tyr.

It took him little time to gate to the island once he pinpointed it from his realm and soon traveled into the abandoned town. There had to be some tomes, ancient parchments, something here that could elude to these phenomenons. The vaewolf also had to take into account that even if he found some, chances were high that they would be lost due to age and wear. Still, it would be better than fumbling his thumbs together and hoping for it to fall onto his lap. As he drew closer to the academy, he felt the sneaky suspicion that he was being followed, or at least observed. There were tells about this sort of thing, but his resolve was stronger than his worry over the demons that stalked these grounds.

Slipping inside, he went to one of the unlit torches and set it ablaze. The illumination didn’t paint a pretty picture of the decrepit, aged interior. Brushing through the thicket of cobwebs, Nemesis moved in a light, quickened pace to seek out a library. He had been a few rooms in when he sensed someone close by. It wasn’t like earlier, at least he didn’t believe it to the case but he ignored it as he came across a study room. The vaewolf quickened himself, rummaging through the books that were left behind to see if they mention anything about the eldritch. Any mentionings, sightings, or attacks in the past, he would make certain to double-check through them before tossing them and moving to the next. In his haste, he may have been a bit too noisy for his crimson eyes shot straight towards the door as it opened and another man ventured inside.

Although he seemed friendly, Nemesis was unconvinced as he slammed the latest book in his hands shut. “Killian, is it? I am Nemesis. What pleasure or misfortune brings you here?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on where or when.

This man was an immortal.

Killian could feel it. The power coming off him was like light radiating from a candles flame. Still, it did not shake his smile – It was not the first time he had stood alongside a god. Killian decided to put away his wand, people usually reacted better when he wasn’t pointing that at them. The Novella’s sapphire eyes darted around the room, catching the title on the spine of the book Nemesis had been reading, as well as strewn across the table. Nemesis was looking into his ancient history. Interesting. He thought to himself.

Then the man before him dropped his name. Now Killian knew exactly who was before him, the husband of his oldest friend. Strangely these two had never actually met though. “I know of you, I’m an old friend of your wife.” The strange man explained as he reached into his bigger on the inside pockets and pulled out an ornate, footlong smoking pipe.

He lit the pipe with a click of his fingers, and instantly a cloud of purple smoke snaked out of the pipes cup. Killian reached across the desk and offered a hand to the god stood before him, before flicking open one of the discarded books. He fanned through the pages, reading them as quickly as they turned. (Another old Novella trick.)

“What is it that you are looking for? I’ve been here before.” Killian offered his help freely, then considered the history books Nemesis had been pouring through, his smile widened. The reason Killian had come to Tyr, was to talk to a very very old friend. “There is someone here, old enough maybe to help you. I can take you to him.” He offered.

Although the person Killian had come to see was sure to be a bit of a surprise.

His eyes never left the man save for one crucial moment when they darted onto the wand. It was a rarity to see one of those things, at least for himself. Had it been that long since he witnesses such an instrument since his arrival to the realm? As much as he loved to shuffle through his memories, Nemesis released his interest on the wand the moment the familiar stranger disarmed himself. Returning the book back to the table, the predator watched and tried to get a feel for the man. Just who was he and why the name sparked bells in his mind?

He did drop some of his intense staredowns once the odd gentleman spoke of his wife. It wasn’t a hard read to figure which of his dearest ones he spoke of- he knew of Celeste’s acquaintances while he was still getting familiar with Angela’s. And while their marriage wasn’t exactly hidden from the world, he paid heed to every motion of Killian’s body to the tone of voice, sniffing for deception. There was naught a trace of lying from him and he relaxed a bit. “Angela seems to have friends in all sorts of places. I am still trying to familiarize myself with her many, many, acquaintances."

Nemesis took the hand with little hesitation and gave him a firm handshake- no point in making foes out of his wife’s friends. Besides, he seemed familiar with this place. That sort of information could be used greatly to aid in his goal on the island. His brows knotted together at the suggestion of another’s aid. There were more people present in Tyr? He only assumed that this place was inhabitable save for the rumored damned souls lost forever. But Killian wasn’t lying, at least he was sure of it from earlier. “I seek knowledge on out worldly creatures like that eldritch beast that had invaded the realm some time ago. Although it was vanquished, we do not know if it’s permanently gone or if more will show up.”

He was skeptical but equally intrigued about this proposal. “I suppose I will accept the offer, Killian. I’m eager to see this mysterious person and what knowledge he may offer.”

“Oh I bet. We have been friends for an awful long time. I believe she took over my job – when I nearly destroyed that word.” Killian explained a little haphazardly. “By accident!” He added, an important detail that one. Worlds over, Angela had taken up the mantle of Goddess of Love when he had lost his connection to the divine. It was an interesting old life. The Novella took a deep drag on the pipe, and exhaled a small purple dove made of smoke. It flapped its wings a few times before dissipating at the ceiling.

Nemesis explained what the information he was after was – Killian had half guessed. The Eldritch monsters were clearly the biggest challenge this world had ever seen. It only made sense that this god was out here looking for any scrap of information. It is what he would have done. Nemesis agreed to Killian’s offer. The Novella flashed his dangerous smile and turned flamboyantly on his heel. “This way!” The Novella lead them out of the room and into a dark corridor beside the main staircase. It was here that they came to the first locked door.

“One moment.” Killian opened the lock with a quick tap of his wand. After they’d passed through the door, he lead them deeper into the building until they came to another door. Once unlocked Killian lead the god into a small room, it had a large fireplace dominating one wall, and broken bookshelves along the others. “So sometimes its not what you know, but who you know.” Killian’s eyes sparkled as he spoke, his smile wide – he was obviously quite proud of himself.

Then without warning he tapped a bookcase with his wand and it was a door. “Always a door, just made to look like a bookcase. Clever eh?” He unlocked the door and lead them into the last room.

It looked like a cell, bare brick walls and only one long dead torch hung on the wall. It was pitch black. With a click of his fingers, the torch burst into flame – revealing a small wooden crate in the centre of the room. Atop that crate was a small, incredibly ancient shrunken head. Its eyes flew open – grey then the mouth flew open wide in a piercing scream. (The action caused the head to fall over on to its side.) Killian had to stifle a laugh.

“YOU! THE DAMN STAR MAN. YOU’VE BEEN GONE FOR OVER FIVE HUNDRED YEARS! IN THE NAME OF AZHIZHETH I WILL KILL YOU” The shrunken heads voice crackled. “Oh what are you going to do, bite my ankles?” Killian stood the head up again, careful not to get his fingers too close to the mouth. “Now snappy, my friend here has a few questions for you. Answer him politely and I will get you out of here.” Killian bargained.

So from the sound of things, Nemesis deducted that this Killian fellow was once upon a throne of divinity- particularly one of the aspects now ruled by Angela. Had he been one from Revaliir, or from the distant land that was once DaeLuin? It seemed that he truly was a magnet for attracting the fallen even after so much time passed. Of how he had lost his mantle was a curious hearing, one that sparked some interest in the God’s eye as he looked upon him. “I know of a few that were in your shoes, though they knew what they were up to when they tried.” One such was his beautiful mistress, may she find her peace from this wicked world. All and all, the longer he was in his presence, the more the revelation led to that he was no ordinary figure even now.

Allowing the man to lead the way, Nemesis followed closely behind, mentally taking in as much of what he could of the direction they headed down. How long had he been roaming these ruins for? Perhaps a better question was just how much did he actually know versus what was said? Call it paranoia, but his mind was always seeking the worst possible scenarios due to his affiliation with the House of Lies. Especially the deeper down the rabbit hole they went. “Whoever you are going to show me, do they also know what happened to this island?”, he slipped in as they went through the door.

They seemed to be going through quite a lot of them.

This alone spoke something to him; that whoever it was, they may not be allowed to roam freely. Inside the small room led to a hidden door and when it was revealed, he peeked in to see that Killian’s suggested help…was something he hadn’t even fathomed in the least. His blood ran a bit colder as he looked upon the head as it awoken unpleasantly.

“In the name of…what the hell is that?” His mouth slightly ajared, Nemesis stared at the bloody thing even after it revealed the name of that scourge that stained their realm a while ago. “Who or what is this creature and how does he know of Azhizheth?”, he requested again, his arms crossed tightly against his chest. Crimson eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from the shrunken head but his composure started to come back as he took a few steps forward.

“What is Azhizheth and was this the first time its kind came upon the land? Tell me everything you know about these Eldritch beings.” It would be wiser for him to spill the truth and not have the vaewolf believe that it was hiding something or even lying. Lest it would have to bear its unnatural life without a few more body parts…