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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 797272" data-attributes="member: 227">It may have seemed throughout the conversation with the Beholder that Melisande simply sat calmly on her snorting mare and listened. This was not the case. She was tetanized with fear. Oh yes, she'd seen them in books; there were even bits of them (eyestalks were a favorite) floating in jars in the lab. But there was nothing like standing face to face with this huge, bloated eyeball aberration. That it spoke in human tongue made it all the more hideously wrong--and reminded her in terrible ways of the power these beings were said to possess. This was not how she planned to finish her grand adventure. There were sparks before her eyes as her trembling body slid stiffly from the horse and began to scramble, awkwardly at first and then with more speed and the agility lent by terror, up the wall of the ravine to the nearest semblance of a hole to hide in. Pierre, for once, was in perfect agreement. Sebastion heard Melisande's feet hit the floor as she slid from her horse, but kept his attention fixed on Kale and his ridiculous ruse. If it weren't ridiculous, then he was definitely travelling with the wrong group... The second footfall caught his attention, though, and by the time he turned to see Mel running away, she was on to her fifth and still going. She'll be a sitting duck out there on her own... "I'll go get her." he muttered, loud enough to be heard without disturbing anything, and then started stepping sideways until he was sure the big floating eye wasn't following them. Damned creepy looking thing "Hey, Mel'" he hissed, as he followed here. "Where you heading off to like a startled rabbit, hold up there." "Of course. For how could your kin even compare to your greatness?" Kale asked rhetorically in reply to the beholder's question, waving a hand idly as he tried to keep the monster's attention. The thing's incredible watchfulness left little chance for distraction, but Kale hoped to monopolize its attention. That was, of course, until Melisande slipped to the ground and made a scrabbling break for freedom. Turning to look despite himself, Kale's heart dropeed as he feared the entire situation would collapse. A strange concoction of fear and anger prickled his veins. He feared for his life, but his temper heated against the beast who held Melisande hostage in fear. But the ruse had to succeed. Kale continued with a short imperious tinge. "Scared witless," Kale pronounced broadly, turning back to the beholder with redoubled effort to the sale. "And I would run, too, but that I'm inspired by your power." The mercenary made a few casual steps to the left, and a small dismissing span of his hand. He continued with interest. "Forget about us- mere riffraff. What you have here is an unique opportunity, to have something no one else has." Memories unbidden came to Kale's mind. "The opportunity, boy. You're not selling cakes or canvas or caravans- you're selling opportunity." Yet another strident lecture of childhood, the determined voice of his father always putting in global terms Kale's simple desire to to make a bit of spending cash. All he really learned was how to avoid rolling his eyes too blatantly, though something about the present situation left him wishing he'd payed more attention. More than a month away from Iril... his family could be up to anything, and Kale would hardly know one way or another. He'd wanted it that way for so long. Yet just then, in what could very well be the end, the mercenary was left with second thoughts. I'll just have to make the sale... "For hundreds of years, dwarves have used their hearthstones, desert raiders their sunovens... but no one has had their own sunheated lair. Only your power can craft this work. Forget about these... distractions. I'll warm the days for you. It would be a profound priveledge. And all I ask is that I can leave here, and never come back..."Wyshira didn't know what Kale was up to. She was, quite possibly, just as curious as the beholderkin to know what the audacious rogue had up his sleeve. It didn't surprise her though that he alreadly had a plan working, while she was still trying to process the information before her. The huge, rocky sphere was like nothing she had ever heard of before, let alone encountered. She recognized that it had an affinity for earth, and that is somehow wielded fire as a weapon. A deadly weapon, judging by the blackened and charred lumps that littered the ravine. She shuddered as she imagined the creature's central eye suddenly flashing open and shooting a line of fire directly at her. The sound of shifting stones nearby caught the priestess' attention, and she turned to see Melisande scrabbling up the side of the ravine in a panic. "Mel, no!" Wyshira called out softly, but it was too late to stop her. She looked quickly back at the beholderkin, then began to walk toward it as calmly as she could manage. She wanted to give the beast something besides the fleeing sorceress to focus on. She only took a few steps, not enough to seem threatening - she hoped. She was ready though to cast a spell if any flames erupted in her direction.As Melisande started to scramble away in fear, the beholder barely seemed to take any notice, only a single eystalk swivelling round to focus on her fleeing form. The others remained focused on Kale, the beholder apparently still interested in what he had to say. Even as Sebastion began to move after Mel and Wyshira started to step forwards, the pupil of the eystalk pulsed searing white, and a beam of scintillating energy lanced out. It caught the aasimar on the flank, knocking her to the ground as the smell of cooked flesh filled the air. All she experienced was an overloading feeling of pain before she blacked out mere seconds later, reduced to a smoking heap. The eye swivelled back to focus on Kale. "The only reason you're all still alive is because I might have a use for you, and I'm intrigued as to what this one has yet to say. Remember that. Oh, and you might want to go and help your friend over there, she's probably still alive, but don't any of you try running either," it growled in an irritated, rocky tone. The sandstone-hued abberation's central eyelids seemed to open a little, letting out a fan of light as if in place of an eye there was almost a small sun there, before closing shut again. A barely veiled, wordless threat.</blockquote>

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