myicebox | Zaknafein Do'Urden and Caesar Salazar Meet. And are immediate bros!

Zaknafein Do'Urden and Caesar Salazar Meet. And are immediate bros!

When Caesar wasn't at work doing science, he was at home doing science. There were limits to how many of his ideas that he wanted to hand over to his workplace. Not only were there so many rules and procedures that simply got in the way, but he wanted to retain ownership of the more interesting ideas at his disposal. So that took them to the here and now.

Caesar wanted to play with viewing other universes, and he was pretty sure he wasn't going to get approval to do it from his boss. He also didn't want a corporation to take the technology and use it for financial gain. No, this was a purely scientific endeavor. It was important that it remained so. Mind you, he knew there was a risk of his company being angry enough to put him out of a job after he published the paper on this, but he'd be able to find another job easily, considering his skill set. They'd likely pay him even more.

Not that he wasn't paid well now--he was, judging by how his apartment was furnished fairly nicely. It was all mostly normal furniture, chosen for utility (how comfy, multipurpose) over design. It geared mostly towards the modern, but the couch was definitely a big green monstrosity of a thing with poofy seats, backs, and armrests.

Two bedrooms. One bedroom was his, and the other was being used as his lab. He'd at least covered the floor with a protective covering so that it wouldn't get ruined (too much). This was where he was now. Nice hardwoods and crown molding in a bedroom where a Murphy bed was up against the wall in case he had guests. (Mostly so he could sleep in this room instead.)

It was pretty high up, on the eighth floor of an apartment building overlooking a still somewhat busy street. It was Friday evening, and it meant Caesar could work out the bugs on his new toy all weekend instead of go out and be social like normal people. Which his therapist probably would have preferred, really. But Caesar was happy now. Maybe a little lonely, but he chatted with Rex regularly, and both visited at least a few times a year.

But that was an aside that Caesar was not even thinking about at the moment, and would probably be snippy with the narrator if he had any idea about her existence. Right now, he was focused on peering into other universes, mostly because he could, partially because he wanted to prove some of his theories, and a very slight, but more pressing than he would like, need to prove one of his coworkers wrong.

The system was fairly simple: a console hooked up to a server rack, both hooked up to the a metal doorway with various doohickeys on the inside of it to create and maintain the gateway to another world. I also had some more equipment in the front of the doorway to create a force field that would block anything trying to come through. It was all along one wall of the room, opposite the bed.

He was finally ready to switch it on. It was either going to work or cause their part of the universe to implode if he got his calculations wrong. Oh well, c'est la vie.

It was a simple boot sequence, all started by a big red button that Caesar had installed in the console because he found it funny. Everything hummed to life at once, and Caesar tried to keep a grin off his face. Each check and test passed one by one as the sequence went through all of them, and then the portal itself fired up, followed by the blue force field a second later.

Suddenly, Caesar was peering into darkness through the portal as it stabilized. He frowned a bit. It was theoretically working, but... It was pitch black. Nothing. No light at all.

And that's when his machine finally caused the power to dip for a moment, and the UPS for the force field failed, causing it to hum and fizzle out of existence. Caesar stared at the portal, dumbstruck.

"... That wasn't supposed to happen."

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When he'd agreed to be Matron Malice's sacrifice, he'd expected her to do it immediately. The reason why she'd chosen to wait eludes him. Surely they didn't mean to wait until after the battle? They'd hoped to regain Lolth's favor with his murder. During the first hours of his imprisonment in the chapel anteroom, he'd grown more and more sick as the turmoil of his own thoughts tortured him. Over the idea that she intended to make the boy watch. His son, his precious, powerful son. Powerful not only in his skill with the blade, but his persevering strength of heart as well.

"How much longer will your heart survive, my son?" He murmured softly into the darkness, his heart aching in fear of what was to come. Not of his death. No, Zaknafein had accepted the fact of his inevitable end long ago. He fears for Drizzt, having to face this wretched world alone.

Something must have happened. Malice would not have waited without due cause. Did they find Drizzt? Is he alive? Dammit all! It had been easy to make the decision when his death had been immanent. Now with all this time to think, could there be another way? Would he even survive and escape? Perhaps going out in the heat of battle would be preferable to his soul being handed over to the Demonweb Pits of the Abyss.

Eventually, he can hear a commotion outside of the antechamber doors. Runners come to warn the guards that Matron Malice was on her way, and she was more than angry. The Second Boy had cursed her, and ran. Drizzt did what?

Zaknafein couldn't help himself. It started softly, but soon he was laughing almost uncontrollably at the thoughts. He'd pushed his limits as far as he could go, but he never would have had the strength to pull off something like that. He composes himself a moment later, after the guards banged threateningly on the door. His path has been decided for him then. There was no way he'd leave Drizzt to the horrors of the Underdark alone.

He banged back on the door, kicking it hard with a single, booted foot. The guards, in their cockiness, figured that without his weapons, the Weapon Master wasn't much a master of anything. They learned quickly enough how wrong they truly were. There's more to a battle than simply their weapons. Moving faster than either of them could have imagined, Zaknafein had managed to break one of their necks, then used his own sword to impale the other, the hilt still grasped in the his hand.

Zak divests one of them of their sword belt and piwafwi, leaving the armor for lack of time. If Malice is coming, it's in his best interest to put as much space between them as possible. Trying to catch Zaknafein Do'Urden is like trying to reach out and take hold of a whirlwind. One is liable to find themselves caught up in the flurry of blades and scattered about the surrounding area.

Without armor, he's in a far worse off position that Drizzt, but he runs off through the city with as much stealth as he can muster and right into the exiting caverns without so much as a breath of hesitation. His son could have gone in an endless array of directions, so the most he can do is start somewhere and hope for the best. He knows, perhaps better than most, how to track someone through the Underdark, but the task is made harder without the benefit of a starting point.

He continues moving, unrelenting in those first hours out in the labyrinthine tunnels, as much in the hopes of catching some hint of his son's trail as it is to but distance between him and Menzoberranzan as he could.

Then there was light.

It appears so suddenly that he runs right into it without having the time to even think about stopping. Whatever it is, it's nothing like the quick flash of the light pellets he'd use against his foes. This is brighter, all encompassing and unrelenting. Zak skids to a halt, throwing one arm up over his eyes as he draws one of his swords, in a quick, almost unreadable motion.

Fierce red eyes try to peer out around him, only to be forced closed again by the blinding, searing brightness of whatever magic had caught him. He's not ready to go down just yet though, trying to force his breathing calm so he can at least listen to the movements around him.

"Well come on then, if you think you have caught me." He says in his native language. "Zaknafein is not so easily taken!"

And for once in his life, Caesar rolls a twenty. One of only a handful of sane drows happens to be the one that stumbles through his portal. Not that Caesar would know that. He's more of a science fiction type.

The sword makes Caesar stumble back rather quickly until his backside is stopped by the wall.

Next to the windows.

And the angry guy with the pointy sword is in between him and the door.

A good string of curses goes off inside Caesar's head for a moment before he manages to gather his wits. Think. Think.

Black skin. Only slightly lighter than whatever Caesar had opened a portal to. Nocturnal? Yes, the light was definitely hurting him. And he was yelling, was breathing hard from physical exertion, and had a sword. Did he just come from something dramatic? A battle? Being chased?

Caesar had to shut the thing off before anyone else got through. The last thing he wanted to do was end up dead. Anger seemed to translate similarly. Luck was with that. A man? Probably a male? Could be even assume that? Clothes. Clothes.

Enough similarities he could work with.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Caesar spoke quickly and as calmly as he could. "I can shut off the light."

He hoped the tone of voice carried, even though the words were likely lost entirely. He started to move towards the side of the room that was opposite of Zaknafein. Slow, deliberate, cautious steps. Hands clearly visible, arms partway up, showing his open palms and spread out fingers to prove he was unarmed.

"Just let me shut off the light. I know the light bothers your eyes. I can shut off the light."

Light light light. Caesar hoped he could maybe pick out that word.

"Light off. I swear. Light off. Give me a chance. Light off."

Edited 2016-06-10 15:11 (UTC)

To Zaknafein, the light is obscuring as it is painful, whiting out what little he could make out around him. There is someone else there. A male as far as he can tell by his voice. More than likely a wizard, all things considered, though this is not any spell he'd ever heard even a rumor of.

His disadvantage is great, but he is not helpless and he will not go quietly. But then, as nothing immediately happened, he began to realize that he didn't understand the language the other man is speaking. Again he tries to look, but tears burned at his eyes and he could make out no details besides the pale color of the other man's skin. A surface elf? Or perhaps a human? That would explain the painful, all encompassing light.

Still, that doesn't explain what happened and why he's here, or more importantly why he's not being attacked. Even the surface dwellers know to fear the drow.

He hesitates, having no idea what the wizard is trying to tell him, and he uses his other hand to try and tug the hood of his piwafwi further down over his face without completely obscuring his vision. He keeps his sword up, pointing decisively at Caesar, but doesn't make any moves towards him.

"Who are you? Why have you brought me here?"

If Caesar isn't certain that the light was making the angry man with the sword more agitated, he is now. Caesar needs to shut off the light before the other man (elf, Caesar, geez) decides to stab him or something. But that is going to require some stroke of luck--or is it?

The other man clearly hesitates for a moment. He's--Caesar realizes that means that he's thinking, trying to process his words, but he can't. Which means that he's at least not completely inclined to outright murdering someone, Caesar hopes. Maybe he can work with this. Caesar just needs to make it obvious that he means no harm. Which is hard when the other person is blinded.

Okay, well, time for charades. How to tell him that he's going to turn off the light?

Caesar points to the light source first, the light fixture in the ceiling with its many bulbs. Then he pointed at the light switch. Then at himself. Then covered his eyes. Giving long pauses to make sure that the other could see what he meant to do.

He wants to turn off the light. Let him turn the light off. Then they can talk.

Edited 2016-06-10 19:18 (UTC)

Zaknafein, for what it's worth, is trying his best to understand. The main problem being that for signing of any sort to work, one needs to actually be able to see what the other is doing to make sense of it. He picks up on the vague gesturing, but while he figures that the gesturing has to do with the light, he has no idea why the wizard is point to the wall. He cannot see the switch, nor does he know that it is even there.

He tries for a moment to look back in the direction he'd come, but snaps his attention back to Caesar almost immediately. He cannot hear the footfalls or voices of his pursuers, but there is an ever present hum in the air that he doesn't recognize. The Underdark can be so very silent at times, that even the hum of modern electricity can sound deafening to one unaccustomed.

Should Caesar try to move, Zaknafein will take a step in the opposite direction, keeping the distance, and the sword blade, between them.

And the man has decided not to attack him for now, Caesar is pretty sure. He's quiet. And trying to figure things out despite the bright light.

It's time to move, and Caesar does slowly, making a slow circle around the edge of the room, keeping an eye on Zaknafein as he manages to make it to the light switch. Then, abruptly, he turns it off without flourish, and suddenly the room is dark. Well. Not completely--there's still the light from the monitors, but it's not like it was before.

"Better?" Caesar asks hesitantly.

Zaknafein is smarter that many have ever taken him for, his intelligence more often than not ignored because he's male. He's quiet, deciding quickly that if neither of them are going to be understood than it's better off not to waste the time and energy on useless words.

When Caesar moves, he does as well, in an opposite circle to keep the distance between them until he ends up across the room. It's not until the light vanishes that his assumptions had been proven true. He slowly lowers the arm shielding his face, red eyes blinking until clarity returns. The strange, glowing panels are still brighter than the candlelight he's used to, but something he's more likely to be able to grow accustomed to.

He finally meets Caesar's gaze directly, sword still upraised but he's at least somewhat less tense now. His head tilts curiously, the motion spilling some of his long hair over his shoulder as his eyes narrow, trying to get a read on this strange wizard. A human?

Zak points at Caesar, then at the portal, wanting to be certain the spell was his doing.

And some of Caesar's assumptions are proven true, too. He also lacks preconceptions about men being idiots. While this man has a sword, he isn't the murdering type. No, it's more like he knows how to fight with it. He seems to be skilled. The fact that he naturally kept the equidistance between the two of them was pretty smart.

In the darkness, Caesar can still see, but he's fairly certain that the other man can likely see better. Caesar can't make his eyes out clearly in the darkness. Not that he's really paying attention to eye color with a sword pointed at him.

He follows what Zak is indicating, then nods in confirmation. That's definitely him. He opened that. And actually, on second thought--

Caesar touches his own chest, then clearly says: "Caesar".

That's his name. Obviously. Or he hopes it's obvious.

So the man did open the door that brought him to this strange place. Now that he can see again, he's starting to realize that there is no better word than strange to describe the place. The chair and bed are familiar enough things, but the thrumming electronics he's completely lost on.

Clearly it's magic. That much is obvious, though not something known to the drow.

Again, he hesitates as more of the pieces start sliding into place. Their mutual confusion, their inability to understand each other. If this had been on purpose, one would think a trap would actually have a trap involved.

Caesar. A name.

"Zaknafein Do'Urden Of House Daermon N’a’shezbaernon"." He gives his full name and title out of sheer habit, finally lowering the sword tip to the floor.

Okay, that is a lot more of a name than Caesar expects. Enough that he only lists for a first name and then hears that huge thing instead. Geez, is the guy royalty or something? Only royals have names as long as that. Or nobility. Geez. Caesar wishes he had paid more attention to how names worked for the nobility and royalty in Europe. Not that this guy looks like he's from Europe.

Maybe he's a vampire? Did vampires hate most light, or was it just sunlight? Caesar couldn't remember. Geez, Rex would probably know.

".. Zackna...?" Yup, he had no idea what the other guy just said. "Zack?" Will that work?

"Zaknafein." He repeats with a nod. Being called Zak doesn't seem to bother him either.

Then there's a moment of awkward silence where they stare at each other. What now? Is this a normal situation for the human? He highly doubts it. What could the wizard have been attempting to summon that he'd get a dark elf instead.

The one dark elf that wouldn't kill him on sight.

No, not the only one. Not anymore.

Without saying another word, Zaknafein turns and moves to approach the portal again, aiming to return to the darkness from which he came. His son is still out there and alone, believing him dead. He's dawdled here long enough.

But then there are sounds from the other side of the portal, the sudden cry of Zaknafein from the darkness. The drow immediately draws his other sword, seemingly able to see through into the other side of the portal.

There's a hesitation on both sides, Zak's eyes darting to Caesar for a moment then back to the portal where another hand reaches through curiously, then quickly pulls itself back. Zak's hands tighten on the hits of his swords and his stance shifts, readying himself.

He'll never be able to get back through with them standing so close on the other side of the door, but he can cut them down before they even get through if they're dumb enough to try.

"Zaknafein."

He has it--just in time to hear someone else shout it, and not at all friendly-like. Well, shit. That explained why the guy had looked like he had just physically exerted himself. He was being chased. This guy was friendly enough, but would the next people be? ... no. The guy had a sword and was ready to kill, wasn't he?

This was bad. Very very bad. Caesar's eyes focus on the hand that goes through and then backtracks. There's going to be a person that follows it soon after, and well--time to close up shop. Caesar rushes over to the console and starts hitting buttons, trying to bring the portal to a close as quickly as possible. He just hopes that Zaknafein will keep him safe enough to complete it without getting a sword (or maybe even an arrow) to the back.

Zaknafein actually moves to put himself between Caesar and the portal, using one of his swords to deflect the dagger that comes flying through. No, these others are clearly not friendly. Zaknafein taunts them, calling them cowards. He knows each of them. He trained them, which gives him an even more of an edge than he'd normally have.

The hand comes through again, this time lunging with a sword, which Zaknafein slaps away with one of his blades, following up the motion to take the arm clean off at the elbow. The hand and sword hit the ground with a thump, spraying blood along the floor and up along the wall.

The drow warrior screams and stumbles forward a step through the portal, just as a few bolts of magical energy come flying through overhead.

Caesar is too focused on his task to really notice what's going on behind him--or well, he stops noticing the second he notices that Zaknafein has gotten between him and the protal. Good. He felt like he could trust the other man.

And then there's screaming. Shit shit shit, they're coming through--

No more time to try to shut down the machine properly. Caesar slams his fist down on the big red button, bringing the entire thing to an abrupt halt, even though he knows it'll likely fry some of the components in the process.

The portal closes.

Right on the warrior as he's stumbling through.

One of the bolts of force hits his square in the chest but he's ready for it. It hurts, knocking him a step back, but he knows that he couldn't have avoided it if he tried. The other gets caught in the portal as it closes, causing the energy to spread outward into the door frame itself.

Zak is already spinning around into another attack when the portal winks out, and his sword sails through empty air as the invading warrior drops to the floor in shock. The other drow stares up wide-eyed at him, terrified. Zak has to cover his mouth at the sight, the warrior having been cut clean in half from one shoulder to the opposite hip, the massive wound burned closed.

But he's still alive.

He would be the first to admit that he revels in killing drow, telling himself that they might be able to find peace in death, that they might finally be free of the torment of their lives. This, though... Zak drops one of his swords to the floor and pulls a dagger as he kneels next to the fallen drow.

"Sleep now.." He murmurs softly, sliding the dagger into the vertebrae of the other drow's neck, making it quick and painless.

The portal is successfully closed, Caesar knows, as the lights from its edge and all of the monitors blink out of existence, leaving the moonlight from his windows being the only source of light in the room. Which is a good thing for Caesar, because he looks behind him just in time to notice a form of someone--no, a part of someone--on the floor.

Oh god. He just cut a person in half. Except it doesn't even look like half, and Zaknafein--he's finishing the job. It's a mercy killing.

Which is the last thing that goes through Caesar's mind as he stoops over and loses his dinner all over the floor to the side of him.

Dead, dead, he just--he just killed someone. Manslaughter. Accidental. The person just died. The non-sequitur thought of 'How will I get the blood out of floorboards?'

... or vomit.

Zak, on the other hand, feels no remorse about what just occurred. He's left bodies in similar condition by way of his own swords. It's so common place in his life, in all drow lives, that he doesn't even think that much of it besides the bizarre way in which it had happened.

His attention is drawn back to the human at the sound of retching. It actually takes him a few moments to realize what made the other man sick, and it's fairly sobering in it's surprise. It answers a few questions at least, about who this man is.

Someone who is unaccustomed to death.

Standing, Zaknafein wipes his blades clean and slides them back into their sheathes, giving the wizard a moment to himself before he slowly approaches. He makes no attempt to touch Caesar, but he does bow faintly.

"I am sorry." He says, hoping his intent is at least readable. Being brought here may have been an accident, but they had been after him. The fight, for what it was, is his fault and his alone.

Unaccustomed to death in this sense, yes. Never in person. Only from a distance. Now suddenly right in front of him, the scent burning his nostrils. It stopped Caesar's mind from thinking beyond the moment, the breaks screeching as the horrific moment slammed into his thoughts and sent them scattering.

A wizard. In a way, Caesar really is one. A lot of his what he does is practically magic. His ability to throw up is not one of these things.

By the time Zaknafein addresses Caesar, the man is only dry heaving, resting on his knees. He doesn't know the words, but he knows the sentiment. The emotion translates.

Caesar looks up at the other man, eyes wide and afraid--although not of Zaknafein. His sword has been put away. It's not necessary anymore. Caesar has seen fights before. Has seen violence. But he's never seen a man sliced so cleanly in half. Fourths. Whatever. He's breathing hard despite having barely exerted himself, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

For the moment, he's in shock, trying to process what just happened. Someone just died so quickly in front of him.....

He's seen eyes like that before, on those so young they hadn't learned how to turn their fear into rage. Those with eyes so stricken with fear and pain rarely had long to live, but in this instance he'd been spared by what amounted to the simple act of closing a door.

Zaknafein finally kneels and places a hand on Caesar's shoulder, tentative at first but firm as he looks into the other man's eyes with an expression of calm sincerity.

"You are safe now." He says gently, then looks back over the carnage that occurred in the small room. This must be where the man sleeps. Zak surmises that it is going to be quite some time before sleep comes easily for the wizard again, if ever.

Finally, he turns back to Caesar and taps his chest, then points to the corpse, and then at the portal. He keeps his fingers pointed at the portal for a long moment, hoping that it will help get his point across.

Open the door again and he will leave, take his danger and his mess with him.

It's only the one of a handful of times that someone has put a reassuring hand on his shoulder since the death of his parents', although Caesar startles for a moment when Zak first rests his hand. Rex did, once when he reaffirmed they would always be brothers. Other times as Caesar started to process their parents' deaths, and Rex did his best to be there for him (once he cottoned on to what was happening, anyway). But this was different--like someone older.

Caesar manages to meet his gaze after several moments, and then the man speaks. Reassuring, gentle. Caesar isn't sure exactly what he's saying, but either way, his shoulders relax. He works to control his breathing, finally starting to pull back some aspect of control. It almost reminds him of his dad when he was little. God, he still misses him.

He doesn't follow Zak's gaze when he looks away, not wanting to see the corpse. Caesar only snaps back to attention when Zak begins to try to indicate something. It isn't too hard to figure out. Zak is excellent at charades.

"But you'll likely die," Caesar's eyes widen as the request and what it means snaps into place--his voice only rose slightly before falling again. "Are you sure?"

The only time he'd ever truly been able to show this kind of empathy had been with Drizzt. The relationship they'd shared, as innocent as it was, had to be kept a secret. The strength they'd found in each other meant they had also become each other's greatest weakness, something Malice had managed to weaponize.

It may be an uncommon gesture for him, but it's perhaps the only thing he can offer this man whose life he'd unintentionally turned upside down.

The concern in Caeser's expression and voice is only something he'd ever seen with this much sincerity in his own son, and the thought makes his heart ache. So to reiterate the point, he repeats the motion, pointing at himself, the corpse, than the scorched wall where the portal had been. He could very well die, but it's a risk he needs to take.

"It is how it must be."

It's clear what Zaknafein wants. He wants to go back and risk everything. There must be an important reason for him to return. Caesar suspects this man fights for a living. He obviously--

--has pointed ears.

Caesar squints at them. What. Those ears are definitely pointed.

"Are you an elf?" He asks incredulously, and well--the man is pretty handsome.

Wait. Elf. Swords. That was possibly a spell he saw light from behind him.

Caesar sits back on his legs. "I just opened up a portal to a... Dungeons and... And Demons universe?"

No, that wasn't quite the right name....

It at least distracts him from his shock and horror for a moment. And if it wasn't for a dead body in the middle of his floor, he'd be freaking out in excitement, having contacted a being from another dimension whose physics were so unlike their own. But there's a very a very dead person in the middle of his floor. And he just vomited--and it's the smell of both that keeps Caesar on task.

"... Sorry." The confused smile fades back to concern; Caesar doesn't exactly like sending people back to their probable deaths. "I'll work to get it open again."

To Zaknafein, the concern and honest worry is spectacular. To Caesar, it's simply being human. You worry about your fellow man... Elf. Show concern and compassion. It's what you do. Which is where they stand now, with Caesar shifting his weight so he can stand easier, but not standing up quite yet.

Edited 2016-06-13 15:25 (UTC)

Demons would actually be the more appropriate word, considering the company noble drow houses keep.

Zaknafein tilts his head slightly as Caesar seems surprised into a moment of calm. It doesn't occur to him that this man may not know what an elf is. Perhaps not his specific breed, but surface elves are supposed to be plentiful beyond measure.

Still, what he knows of the surface world has surely been twisted by the hateful designs of those raised on the same propaganda as he. The most he knows about humans is that they make effective slaves.

When Caesar seems to be gathering himself, Zak pats the wizard's shoulder and stands, offering his hand as a help up.

Edited 2016-06-13 22:25 (UTC)

Caesar really wishes he had more time to talk to the stranger, but at the same time, even Caesar has some priorities. And one priority is not having a partial dead body in the middle of his floor. And the elf wants to go home. To possibly die. Because warriors were like that, weren't they? All those old stories, the warrior would fight to the death to protect what was important to him..

He takes the hand and stands slowly, feet mostly steady. He nods to Zak and goes to find a towel to at least wipe his face to make sure--well. You know.

Caesar looks over his equipment as well as he can in the darkness, walking over towards it as he throws the towel aside near the trash can. (He's not throwing it away, but he's making sure he knows it's. Because: ew.) He frowns a bit as he starts trying to boot the thing up.

"I can't guarantee this will work again since I shut it off so quickly," Caesar stated, knowing the elf couldn't understand him one bit, although the concern would certainly translate well enough--maybe not the intent, though. "We'll be lucky if I can even bring up the BIOS."

Zak would have very much like to sit and talk with the wizard, curious as to the truth of humans compared to the rhetoric spouted by those at the academy and in positions of power back in Menzoberranzan. There are a lot of things he will likely never learn the truth of, but he can at least be content in the knowledge that his skills are likely far beyond what Malice can throw at him.

If he can only get to Drizzt...

While Caesar goes off to make his preparations, he takes a moment to look down at the bisected drow warrior, spilling blood through the hole he'd left in his neck. It was quick, at least, having ended the poor elf's life before the true realization of what had happened set in.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when Caesar speaks again. It's unclear what's going on, as he'd never seen any spell worked in such a way before. Machines perhaps? Somehow that seemed counter to a wizard's lot, but he just watches curiously for the time being as we waits.

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I literally have a perfect icon for this.

XD

Caesar would fail at charades.

It's like using sign language with a blind person right now

The blind are leading the blind here pretty much.

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