"Holy shit!" were the first words that came from Icarus' mouth as he was assaulted by a cloud as he wandered the road south of Cittapashe.  In one moment, he was traveling safely; the next, he was surrounded by white softness and being pulled into the sky.  He tried clawing at the ground below him, at first, to no avail.  The strength of the cloud yanked him by the ankle before it swelled around him and took him unwillingly anyway.

The first hour was him screaming as he sailed through the sky, unable to travel willingly and at a height where he would surely die without magic at his command.  The next hour also consisted of screaming, though with certainly less energy.  By the third hour, Icarus became used to it, wondering if he would simply travel endlessly.

"I just… what the hell is this?  It's a cloud that I am sitting on," he said, contemplating his situation aloud as he laid on his back, relaxing in just how comfortable it truly was.

He was traveling east, as far as he could tell.  The water below him indicated he was above the ocean without any hint of land in sight.  Would he continue until he starved to death?  In all his travels, this was both the strangest and most absurd thing he had ever witnessed.  Clouds were not dense enough to support weight and certainly not intelligent enough to snatch a man from the ground.  It defied all logic.

"Whatever, just let me know if you plan on killing me," he remarked as he dismissed his situation, placing his mask on his head at an angle that would block his eyes from the sun.  

The cloud was certainly the most comfortable thing he had ever laid on.  If he was going to die, at least he would remain comfortable until he was eventually dropped down screaming like a bat out of hell onto the world below.  It was something he could enjoy for some time.  His eyes closed and he fell asleep within moments.

He awoke to nightfall, his cloud having traveled countless miles in a matter of hours that brought land once more into view.  This was the land of Parvpora, the second continent, and a strange land he knew nothing of.  It was like waking in Canelux all over again.  Hours passed once more and it seemed that he would completely pass across the entire continent, continuing his circumnavigation of the world.  As the sea began to appear in the distance, the cloud took a sharp dive downward, prompting another fit of screams.

Heights never really bothered him, but the concept of placing his life in the hands of a cloud that could just as easily evaporate and kill him gave him a new fear.  They descended at such a fast pace, he thought the cloud would smash him headfirst into the ground below.  As they grew nearer, a massive darkness appeared directly below.  The cloud began to even out its descent, lowering slowly beneath the threshold of the shroud.  

A village of some sort lay below, residents that wandered the streets gawking at the sight above them.  Lycanthropes, vampires, and drow alike all watched him as he now clutched onto the cloud, grasping at the surprisingly firm portions of its edge, as though it were accomodating his hands.  Coming to a stop only inches above the ground, Icarus stepped off, knees shaking from the experience.  It took all his effort not to vomit as he glanced around, taking deep breaths to fight off his sense of vertigo.

Growling at him, one of the lycanthropes stepped toward him.  Doubled over and continuing his effort to recover from the experience, Icarus held one hand up as an appeal to the werewolf.  Perhaps shocked by his display and the lack of fear, the werewolf cocked its head at him, no longer growling.

"I'm… sorry… that… was weird," he panted, standing upright to look at the villagers that had gathered.

"I uh… assume I'm not exactly welcome here.  It wasn't my choice," he explained.  "If there's something I can do for you, even if its just as simple as leaving, I'd rather not have a confrontation.  I'm just getting used to this body and I'd prefer not to have to fight, if possible."

It was entirely true.  Icarus had only resurrected a short month ago.  He had no urge to take a chance at damaging the new flesh that was his own from several years ago.  One of the villagers, a vampire, given the pale flesh and slightly elongated fangs, approached him slowly.

"You should probably see the elders.  We've definitely got a job for you," he said aloud, causing an uproar of laughter from the crowd that had gathered.

The joke that escaped him was the fact this village had been suffering attacks on the outskirts as of late.  With those that had gone to investigate returning headless, the people had no qualms about sending an outsider to investigate further.  Better they send a stranger than one of their own if the sentence was a certain death.  Holding his hands up and shrugging his shoulders, Icarus gave in to the recommendation.

"If you could point my the right way or show me, I'd be appreciative," he replied, ready to accept the task that likely would result in his death.

The scraping of a fountain pen, floating across the pages of my spellbook in suspended animation was a soothing sound. At my bidding, it recorded the knowledge of arcane gate travel that I had just acquired. The spellbook wasn't strictly necessary in my case - being a sorcerer, my magic came more from innate power than from study, but occasionally the book was useful as a reference. A catalog of my magical prowess, as it were.

I was used to this, by now. Having the pen write for me, while I took a glance in the mirror, giving my hair and eyeliner a once-over. Flawless, as always. But something else reflected in the mirror, interrupting my vain reverie. A cloud? A man on a cloud? Absurd. Although, in my time at Wyllmochvar I had seen far stranger things. My curiosity was nonetheless piqued. Who was this cloud-riding man? I strode to the window to improve my vantage point. Perhaps this was a God, intent on making a grand entrance. Or a wizard from the mainland.

I spied the cloud moving toward one end of the city and slowing down. From my dwelling on the second story of a building, I could see at least the general area of the cloud's descent. Utilizing my ability to teleport, I focused on one place in particular, near the edge of the gathering crowd, and was instantly met with disappointment. No, this was not a God, nor a grand wizard. Merely a man. Although…

He stumbled from the cloud and said a few things. About not belonging or being welcome, and about not being used to his own body. That intrigued me. Then there was the strange mask atop his head. I gauged the crowd. Given that I had teleported into the seedier part of town, there were more than a few werewolves around me. Now that I could smell the cloud-rider's blood, I knew he was human, and I knew that this crowd wouldn't be terribly receptive to his fate. A vampire stepped forward and mentioned that the Elders had a job for the newcomer, and this evoked laughter from the crowd. I had been away from the city until recently, but even I had heard of the attacks on the edge of town. 

I stepped forward, and the crowd parted for me. Being a distinguished study from Wyllmochvar, I had enough sway to pull this off. If it were any other cloud-riding vagabond, I'd probably have left him to the dogs. But the mask, and something about the scent of his blood told me that there was more to this stranger than met the eye.

"Hail, stranger. If you'll come with me, I can escort you to the Elders," I said, more for the crowd than for him. 

I approached the man and extended a clawed hand to him. His earlier words rang in my mind. Not familiar with his body? His was the body of a warrior - I wondered what exactly he had meant. Of course, I couldn't learn that if the wolves in the crowd deigned it their duty to 'escort' him through the city. So I decided to keep him alive, for now. Besides, underneath that mask he seemed rather handsome.

If or when he had accepted my hand in greeting and chosen to follow me through the crowd, I would ask, "Could I trouble you to tell me your name? I am Nephalos, as gracious a host as you'd be lucky to find in this city."

Icarus couldn't help chuckling even after he acquiesced to the potential suicide mission he was about to embark on.  It seemed that to most of the people there, he had become somewhat of a joke since their other plan likely involved charging him.  Although he certainly could have killed at least a few of them, he'd prefer not to have an entire village seeking his head.  The voice of the newcomer came as a welcomed interruption from the pitiable situation for him.

By the standards set forth in dealing with outsiders, this man's actions could very well label him a pariah the others would shun for his kindness toward a full human.  As expected, the jovial laughter at his apparent foolishness ceased when one of their own offered him guidance and extended a hand as a sign of respect.  For what it was worth, however, it relieved some of the tension that Icarus had been feeling and even less of the people seemed inclined to decapitate him and turn him into food.

Icarus took the man's hand.  His flesh was chill as the grave and he readily acknowledged the affliction which he suffered from.  Some saw it as a gift, yet his very own master considered it the gravest curse of all to never be able to accept the loving embrace of one's ancestors or the welcoming hand of Death as an old friend.  Truthfully, Cain had taught him that the greatest treasure one could ever lose was the ability to pass to the next life, a fate he suffered from even now.  

With the two deaths Icarus had suffered in the past, he wondered if in fact he also suffered something similar although it was definitely not the same.  Twice he had died, once by demons, and once by a being they revered as the highest upon high.  Even then, he was fully resurrected back into the flesh of a mortal, appearance altered only to remove the scars he bore and his body once more crafted to the height of his ability.  It took some getting used to.

As the man spoke, Icarus felt a comforting air about him.  Indeed, this Nephalos character was the most welcoming person he had come across in the scant few minutes he had actually been in the city.  His kind act may have very well made him as much a target as the mere mortal that had been deposited in their midst.  Silently, Icarus was damning that cloud with so many curses that there were likely a few words he was making up in his mind to illustrate his anger.

"Thank you, Nephalos.  I am Icarus.  I apologize for the inconvenience but I do appreciate you proverbially sticking out your neck for me with all those people around.  Please, lead the way so I can at least leave the city without worry of becoming a meal," he said.  His words were entirely true.  

He knew he was unwelcome and would rather not remain in such a situation when the majority of those present would have tried to kill him if Nephalos had not intervened.  At least, if he could succeed, there stood the possibility of being considered an asset to the city and he would be permitted entry and departure from the boundaries of it without hindrance.  If only things were ever so simple.

Due to its isolation, population, and unique environment, Kurayo was often misunderstood outside of the island it rested on, and especially on the other continent. It had an intricate culture, and if properly acclimated to such a place, one could experience a pleasant existence there. This was made considerably more difficult if the person in question was not a Drow, a vampire, or a werewolf (or perhaps a mage of some power), and even more difficult if they were human. Worse still, a human appearing from the sky riding a cloud may look more like a fresh meal than an entity to interact with. Especially to the wolves. I frowned. Those damn wolves.

It was not often that outsiders would randomly happen upon the island. However, there were occasional ships that had lost their direction in a storm. The crew washed up on shore if they hadn't drowned or been crushed by the shattering of their vessel. Their chances of leaving the island alive were terribly slim. If a Drow discovered them, and perhaps was feeling especially generous, they may let the person reach an inn or the docks and look for a vessel willing to take a human off of the island. If a vampire discovered them, they'd probably be treated to a nice evening, and perhaps even given a place to stay for one night. Of course, they wouldn't wake up the next day, as most of their blood would've left their body during the night. If they had the unfortunate opportunity of being discovered by a werewolf, they'd be mauled and eaten immediately. I remember the last time that happened - I had been able to hear the screams a mile inland.

These were cases where the lost person was happened upon by one being or a small group. In large crowds, some semblance of civilization had to be maintained, and so the first person to speak up would offer to assist the person, essentially 'claiming' them. This particular human seemed to be armed, and clearly more cognizant than any lost seafarer would be. Still, if I had arrived mere minutes later, it was possible that this Icarus fellow may have been food for the wolves.

I smiled at his words and apologies, and responded, "It's nice to meet you as well, Icarus. Don't worry, it isn't an inconvenience. The others in the crowd wished to do the same. Of course, the expectation now is that I'll lead you to my house, or offer you a drink, and then kill you sometime later. I'm sure you've heard stories of this place and you know how it treats outsiders. I'll admit that I almost didn't bother coming down to see you. But it isn't every day a human rides in on a cloud, and even then… you're no ordinary human, are you?" I asked, briefly stopping to look at you with an appraising brow.

After giving you the chance to respond, I'd walk on, saying, "You'll have to trust me when I say that the only safe place for you to stay here is with me, at least for the night. What that other vampire said to you earlier is true - the Elders may have a job for you. But it isn't safe to discuss such things on the streets."

Icarus listened as Nephalos explained the casual expectations of the society as a whole for the other man to devour him at some point or another and leave him a lifeless husk.  Given the reputation that kept the city relatively alienated from the rest of the world.  In his opinion, it was likely a good thing because the history of the city was coated in xenophobia by the outside world that had caused them to behave in this way.  Truly, it was sad that others were so ready to shun those that were different from themselves based on ancient fears.

For what it was worth, however, Drow were rightfully considered exceptional assassins and many of them conformed to the belief the Spider Goddess was the being demanding the sacrifice of others.  Werewolves were often feral and incapable of controlling themselves when the full moon rose despite the fact that many others were fully in control and capable of transformation at will, albeit with some difficulty.  Vampires, however, were often the most feared of the group considering they preyed on the living as their only means of sustenance.  Of the three, they were perhaps the most rightly feared because they were apex predators among Man.

Still, the openness of this man's demeanor brought at least some ease to the tension that Icarus had felt since his arrival.  It made him no less prepared to defend himself if the need arose, even settling on his own death should the need arise.  However, if such were the case, he would not fall without incident.  Indeed, the blood he shed would far outweigh that which he lost and this city would learn to rightly fear Man once more.  

"It seems Fate or perhaps the Primes like to toy with me.  This is my third body.  It's the same one I've always had, but death has claimed it twice.  Apparently, I'm still mortal.  I don't understand it, myself," he explained.

The duo continued down the road.  Nephalos mentioned that although it was perhaps a bit suspect, Icarus' best chance of survival would be to remain at his abode.  Icarus was not the sort to readily trust others without good cause, but if a confrontation were to occur between them, he'd prefer a solo duel as opposed to the likely intervention of others should he gain the upper hand against the vampire.

"I guess it's a good thing I got used to being on that cloud once the initial terror subsided.  It was surprisingly comfortable and I slept as I crossed the great sea.  I agree, though.  It probably is best to discuss that possible outcome in privacy to dissuade keen ears and curious folk," Icarus agreed, hoping he was merely walking directly into a trap willingly.

I stared upon the warrior with a raised brow. His clothing and appearance alone, coupled with his mask, had told me that he wasn't a mere human. Even so, three lives? My skepticism was plain upon my pale, makeup adorned face. Still, it did lend some explanation to the clearly different scent of his blood.

"Have you no inkling of why you've been reincarnated twice? If you wish to keep such things to yourself, I suppose I would understand. Stranger things happen in this world…" I said, staring into the shadowy streets. 

On the outskirts of the city, they were sparsely lit by streetlights. This contrasted with the inner city - where I resided - which was lit by glass orbs containing fae fire atop black marble columns that resembled the clawed hands of eldritch beasts. It was quite some walk before I happened upon that familiar sight again, though. Though once small, Kurayo was now big enough to be home to an expanse of multi-story buildings, including churches to the darker deities, a library, and a few prestigious merchant's offices. It would've had quite the skyline were it not for the magic midnight shroud.

"I would guess that this is your first time in this city, yes?" I asked casually, to pass the time as we walked. Normally I traveled by gate or teleportation, but you seemed more accustomed to the sword than the scroll.

As we walked, more than one bystander passed me. To the vampires and Drow I would wave and nod, perhaps even smile. They would look with understanding upon the human behind me and return the greeting. To the werewolves I displayed no such courtesy - and none was expected from them. They became rarer as we approached the heart of the city anyway, when mismatched stone pathways gave way to patterned cobbles or even granite streets. Soon, those intimidating columns appeared along our path at regular intervals, along with all of my favorite local places. There was that Drow tailor with impeccable stitch-work and taste. The ever-famous Vampire lounge, Arms of the Crescent Moon was there as well. A few patrons even lined up outside it's intricate doors, waiting to enter. We weren't far from home yet.

Shortly enough, we arrived upon a charmingly dark cafe at the bottom of a multi-storied apartment complex.

I gestured upwards, pointing with one of the claws of my gauntlets, "My abode is on the fourth floor. You may also find someone suitable for human consumption in this café - the Drow woman who runs the place is friendly. Maybe friendly enough to tolerate human visitors," I noted, walked around the side of the building and opening a door that led to the stairs. Ascension wasn't very difficult, and soon we arrived outside my residence.

As soon as I closed the door behind you and we were both inside, I gestured to one of the leather seats. Like all vampire residences, the place was fairly cold, and the marble walls and floors didn't help much. There were a few rugs across the place, rich red in color. My residence wasn't expansive - it consisted only of 4 rooms: a living room, a study, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The lattermost room was never used by me, as my biology didn't necessitate it, but it was built for the necessity of the other races in the city. The living room (given my nature, ironically named) was where we were currently seated, and was decorated by more than a few bookshelves. Most of the titles were in Wyllmochvarian, and the books shared their space with more than a few items of arcane interest.

Taking a seat next to yours, I spoke, "Now, to business. Were I to bring you to the Elders, they'd likely tell you of attacks on the outskirts of the city. Beheadings, to be precise. They'd tell you that you're very brave to seek them out, and then they'd offer you the 'honor' of investigating the matter for them. In truth, they'd rather see a human outsider die than one of their own. If you still wish to proceed with the job, then you should know that there may be more to it than meets the eye. The Elders are corrupt - one of them may know something more than they're letting on."

I got comfortable in my seat, wondering how you'd like to proceed.

Even after he said it, Icarus could already feel to some extent that the other man had not quite accepted the truth of his situation.  In all honesty, if he were another man listening to one claim he had been resurrected even once, he would likely consider him ready for an asylum, much less twice.  Icarus chuckled a bit when he thought about it and the man asked if he knew why he had been so fortunate to receive the gift of life more than once.

"The first was a part of my destiny, as they say.  The second was a natural cause of magic I once used that left it drained entirely and I can no longer wield it.  I suppose I'm just lucky," he explained, commenting on the bewildering circumstances that had allowed such good fortune.

Carefully considering his surroundings, Icarus glanced about on occasion, noting that although he was being escorted by one of their own, he was still an outsider and given a wary treatment.  The city continued to grow in size from the smaller buildings in the outskirts of town.  He did what he could to avert their gazes and avoided making eye contact with them as well.  Acting quite like the obedient meal the man gave others the appearance of, Icarus remained quiet.

"Yes, though the rumors concerning xenophobia are definitely not without good cause," he said, pointing out that the attitude of the majority of the people there were rather hostile toward outsiders.

Upon reaching their destination, Nephalos described the building, his home, and the cafe on the first floor.  When it came time for him to eat, perhaps he would be able to procure food that would better suit his palette than human flesh.  Icarus followed the man upstairs, taking in careful study of his surroundings and keeping his senses piqued.  Despite his own misgivings, he turned his back on the vampire, focusing his mind on the point the man stood as he proceeded into the home first, continuing to one of the leather seats offered to him.

He appraised the room, noting the large collection of books that filled the shelves.  Nephalos spoke, explaining the situation which he had already deduced simply from the initial interaction with the townspeople as they spoke of a possible task set forth by the governing body.  Truthfully, he didn't have many options as it seemed likely the cloud had brought him here for a reason, likely this very reason.

"Yes, I understand fully that I will probably be offered a duty that others would consider the forfeiture of my life.  Unfortunately, I don't have many choices and it's probable that if I were to try and leave, that cloud would return and force me back here.  If they know more than they admit, I may be forced to dig deeper into the mystery here before I could truly tackle the problem," he explained.

Great, random beheadings with no witnesses or suspects.  How the hell do I get myself in these messes? he thought to himself.