[ Glory doesn't usually put a lot of effort into disguising himself. Either people sense the immense amount of magic and decide he's better left well alone or they treat him normally for a stranger who refuses to take his hood off and occasionally wears a strangely shitty mask.
Either way, he's not usually approached by people who have nothing to say to him. So he shifts a little, hands clasped on the table. ]
Can I help you in any way? [ His voice is mellow and sonorous. Friendly. ]
[She pauses for a moment. Squints. Decides even if it's a trap, she can punch him from seated.]
You're rather affable, aren't you? [Maybe it's the light in here, but her eyes to seem to gleam a lot brighter than they should...are they just hyper-reflective, like a cats? Are dhampir just big kitties? ARE THEY????]
I suppose well start with the easy one; what's a lich like you doing in a place like this?
[ He seems a little bemused by Naeva's blunt comment. The eyegleam is...look, he has a part-aasimar under his care and a half-demon half-orc, he's seen weirder in smaller packages. He's not going to make any assumptions, the world is too bizarre for that.
But he laughs, after a moment of surprise, at that very direct question. ] You're straightforward, aren't you! I like that.
I was intending to have a nice day out, actually. [ He's just running errands! He stopped in here because the atmosphere was nice, and he likes being around people. ] I enjoy spending time around people.
[ Glory exudes magic; it's something he can't hide, and that he wouldn't. But magic runs through him differently than it would with other liches; it pours in and out of him, a living circuit. It brings to mind the imagery of flowers blooming and plants growing than something...less lively and more necrotic. ]
[That gives her more pause than his attitude. She knows that feeling. As a druid, how could she not? Her circle's primary concern is the undead, but that doesn't make them any less druids. She makes a little 'ah' noise, and for that moment, all her hard edges fall off.
They come back quickly, but it may be too late to recover her professional image.]
...Forgive my bluntness, but that's a touch unusual...particularly in my line of work. [Both the affability and Glory's answer, really.]
I don't find there's much point in not being straightforward, especially in a case like this. It's not like I'll learn what I need to by dancing around my questions.
It takes all sorts to make a world! You haven't offended me, don't worry. [ No forgiveness needed. He enjoys people who are straightforward, though sometimes he finds them gently amusing too. ]
I'd ask what your line of work is, but I can certainly guess...given how quick you were to figure me out. [ He gives Naeva a sunny smile. ] You hunt the undead, do you not?
[ There's a hint of steel under the cheeriness. Though Glory is affable, it doesn't appear he's the type who would go quietly if he and Naeva came to blows. ]
Of course I do. Things live, and they die, and new life grows...to escape that cycle throws more into danger, than the usual, ah, disposition of those who do.
[She smiles back, a little grim and more like baring fangs. Which...she has sizeable ones? Two--wait, three inches long. Clearly retractable. Goodness.
Either way, it's a clear message. If it comes to a fight, neither of them's gonna be having a very good day.]
It is a mercy, to bring those afflicted to a final rest...or so I'd say, but you don't seem to be suffering the usual ill-effects. There's usually a lot more, uh, cackling and devouring the life of others to maintain consciousness, and less...flowers. It's unique enough it warrants further investigation.
Well, you don't have to worry on that part. I consider it my duty to hunt those who enslave the dead. [ Glory leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, as if thinking. He doesn't seem intimidated by the smile, but nor does he seem to be taking it lightly. He's respectful. ] I like to think I was rather good at it when it was my job, since there was nothing left by the time I was done.
I don't suffer ill effects because I am unlike other liches. Though I am made from the dead, my soul is my own and not the over-extended life of another. [ He doesn't seem to be lying about this but this is probably weird for Naeva to hear. ]
I'm only fifty, really. That's not terribly old for someone made the way I am.
[It's incredibly weird for her. It checks out--not because it follows any theory she knows, but because she can sense the absence of the curse that runs through most undead.
Everything is strange and she's confused.]
A hunter...I suppose that follows. It's much the same as why I was taken in by the druids, anyway. [She drums her fingers on the table, thinking.] ...Well, it's clear by the magic in you, you're not contributing to the destabilization of natural cycles, and I can't find it in me to believe you're going to start eating people, so...
I prefer sunlight to flesh. Not that I can really eat in the way other people can - it'd just go right through me! I don't have the stomach for it at all.
[ UGHHHHHH GLOORYYYYYYY WHY ]
Ah - but where are my manners? My name is Glory. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?
[ He shouldn't quit his day job, that's for sure. He puns enough to be a dad, not a comedian. ]
It's a good name. [ He nods firmly. It seems like he's about to say something else, but he turns his head instead in a swift, almost too-fluid motion.
Naeva will probably be able to feel it too. The feeling of something discordant and grating, something that sucks up life and energy rather than existing in harmony with it.
And it's too close for comfort - descending from the air. Glory is pretty much out the door as soon as he registers it properly, leaping a table.
[Naeva feels it. And luckily(?), Naeva grew up in a corrupted warzone where aerial attacks are not uncommon.
So she moves reflexively--no sooner is she out the door than she is no longer a smallish druid, but a large, pitch-black warhorse, hooves striking with something that hums through the ground, sparking like sunlight.
She can't talk, but a snort conveys meaning well enough:
[THere's a moment of pause, while she wonders why everyone she meets is like this, before she stomps the shit out of the beast. Of course, even if it struggles, and knocks her out of the form, Naeva's got claws, and they're still gleaming with concentrated sunlight. Somewhere, an up-tempo rock theme starts to play. ]
Do you often meet people who can't? [ Genuinely innocent question, possibly. PEOPLE JUMP PRETTY OFTEN YKNOW
The beast thrashes wildly. It doesn't like being stomped on, and expresses this by lashing out at Naeva.
Meanwhile, Glory is...looking for something else, apparently, though he gives the monster another magic-charged punch. Thankfully the recoil doesn't knock it into Naeva. But it's clear his mind isn't on this battle, not completely. ]
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Either way, he's not usually approached by people who have nothing to say to him. So he shifts a little, hands clasped on the table. ]
Can I help you in any way? [ His voice is mellow and sonorous. Friendly. ]
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Or, rather, she knows that Glory is a lich--Naeva can smell it, can sense it, can feel the ache in her blood that tells her that the undead are near.
But...
Well, he certainly isn't behaving like any lich she's ever met.]
...I have a few questions.
[Information before plan of attack. You can't just charge into everything with a sword, like some people.]
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Not uncommon! Not uncommon.
Please, feel free. [ He gestures. ] Would you like to take a seat, or...? It's your choice, either way.
[ He's certainly very polite. And if he knows what she is, he's keeping it to himself. ]
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You're rather affable, aren't you? [Maybe it's the light in here, but her eyes to seem to gleam a lot brighter than they should...are they just hyper-reflective, like a cats? Are dhampir just big kitties? ARE THEY????]
I suppose well start with the easy one; what's a lich like you doing in a place like this?
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[ He seems a little bemused by Naeva's blunt comment. The eyegleam is...look, he has a part-aasimar under his care and a half-demon half-orc, he's seen weirder in smaller packages. He's not going to make any assumptions, the world is too bizarre for that.
But he laughs, after a moment of surprise, at that very direct question. ] You're straightforward, aren't you! I like that.
I was intending to have a nice day out, actually. [ He's just running errands! He stopped in here because the atmosphere was nice, and he likes being around people. ] I enjoy spending time around people.
[ Glory exudes magic; it's something he can't hide, and that he wouldn't. But magic runs through him differently than it would with other liches; it pours in and out of him, a living circuit. It brings to mind the imagery of flowers blooming and plants growing than something...less lively and more necrotic. ]
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They come back quickly, but it may be too late to recover her professional image.]
...Forgive my bluntness, but that's a touch unusual...particularly in my line of work. [Both the affability and Glory's answer, really.]
I don't find there's much point in not being straightforward, especially in a case like this. It's not like I'll learn what I need to by dancing around my questions.
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I'd ask what your line of work is, but I can certainly guess...given how quick you were to figure me out. [ He gives Naeva a sunny smile. ] You hunt the undead, do you not?
[ There's a hint of steel under the cheeriness. Though Glory is affable, it doesn't appear he's the type who would go quietly if he and Naeva came to blows. ]
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[She smiles back, a little grim and more like baring fangs. Which...she has sizeable ones? Two--wait, three inches long. Clearly retractable. Goodness.
Either way, it's a clear message. If it comes to a fight, neither of them's gonna be having a very good day.]
It is a mercy, to bring those afflicted to a final rest...or so I'd say, but you don't seem to be suffering the usual ill-effects. There's usually a lot more, uh, cackling and devouring the life of others to maintain consciousness, and less...flowers. It's unique enough it warrants further investigation.
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I don't suffer ill effects because I am unlike other liches. Though I am made from the dead, my soul is my own and not the over-extended life of another. [ He doesn't seem to be lying about this but this is probably weird for Naeva to hear. ]
I'm only fifty, really. That's not terribly old for someone made the way I am.
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[It's incredibly weird for her. It checks out--not because it follows any theory she knows, but because she can sense the absence of the curse that runs through most undead.
Everything is strange and she's confused.]
A hunter...I suppose that follows. It's much the same as why I was taken in by the druids, anyway. [She drums her fingers on the table, thinking.] ...Well, it's clear by the magic in you, you're not contributing to the destabilization of natural cycles, and I can't find it in me to believe you're going to start eating people, so...
[She guesses she can just. Leave him be???]
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[ UGHHHHHH GLOORYYYYYYY WHY ]
Ah - but where are my manners? My name is Glory. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?
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Naeva. [She pauses, and smiles, for realsies this time.] Ah...I suppose Jackal is an acceptable substitute, but it'd be weird to use it off the clock.
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It's a good name. [ He nods firmly. It seems like he's about to say something else, but he turns his head instead in a swift, almost too-fluid motion.
Naeva will probably be able to feel it too. The feeling of something discordant and grating, something that sucks up life and energy rather than existing in harmony with it.
And it's too close for comfort - descending from the air. Glory is pretty much out the door as soon as he registers it properly, leaping a table.
Boy he's energetic for a bonepile. ]
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So she moves reflexively--no sooner is she out the door than she is no longer a smallish druid, but a large, pitch-black warhorse, hooves striking with something that hums through the ground, sparking like sunlight.
She can't talk, but a snort conveys meaning well enough:
get on the hamaon horse, glory.]
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No, I can reach it by myself. The offer's appreciated, though!
[ He surges with a sudden burst of power; the air around him sings with it, a rush of something like joy and growth. He crackles with magical light.
As the shadow falls over the town, as the rotten, hulking thing stoops to land, he leaps from ground to roof and into the air and-
- he's landing a punch right into its face that sends it crashing to earth in front of Naeva's hooves.
He sure did just magic-punch it. Hope you didn't think he was going to use spells, because Glory's a full on melee combat lich. ]
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You might have mentioned you can jump!
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The beast thrashes wildly. It doesn't like being stomped on, and expresses this by lashing out at Naeva.
Meanwhile, Glory is...looking for something else, apparently, though he gives the monster another magic-charged punch. Thankfully the recoil doesn't knock it into Naeva. But it's clear his mind isn't on this battle, not completely. ]