The Keepers of Chaos: A Vault of Hell

Rishall Callahan: LXXXVIII

Desperate: LXXXVIII

"As if Karzeabet knew what true art was." Rishall yawned, placing his feet on the top of a stool, ever so careful to never sully his desk with such fifth. He licked his finger drawing another page from the book in reserve to learn all that it carried regardless of how idiotic Krazeabet was.

"True art is within the mind, Rishall.." Nelius joked from a nearby corner, the elf was holding a copy of; 'Guardians of disarray.' Some random novel one idiot wrote on his adventures throughout Faerun, Rishall found it difficult to follow and even harder to understand since the writer insisted on switching perspectives at any time something got good. Imagine.

"That. My friend." Rishall desired. "Is exactly something someone who had no clue what they were, would say. Dear lords, how are you reading that?" He felt a bit of gruffness pipe up in his voice when he asked that. Nelius was leaning back in a sofa seat reading through the horrid novel, the whitish blonde haired elf held somewhat of a superiority to him. Despite that, Rishall could enjoy his company from time to time.

"Tell me, when was the last time you enjoyed genuine art? Hm?" Nelius looked nervous all of a sudden. Rishall wondered if he had gotten to the part in the book where nothing made sense anymore. Terrible pacing! "They uh.. They say there is going to be an opera being put on at the Blood wedding theater.. You should think about stopping by." That again? Rishall asked himself, he was never a very big person on music.

"While that sounds splendid I.. have no real intre-"

*Thud thud thud*

Rishall narrowed his eyes to the window of his shop, large and encompassing to reveal the interior of books he held in his collection. Outside the paned glass he saw a sight he had not wished to return to, hopefully for as long as he lived. Purple eyes met his own as straight layered black hair reached to half-elven ears. Dressed in a ridiculous assembly of cloaks and pieces, he was greeted by the golden cloaked menace so many in the town had been referring to as; chaos. Rishall shook his head at the figure while Marko pointed at the door knob in a pleading fashion. Erratic scared eyes was what greeted him, the same empty portals to the abyss he had seen when the two of them only just met. He did not relish in the look of insanity nor the daze of instability that lurked outside his shop now.

"Who.. is that?" Nelius quiered, the elf was standing at his left side dangling the book he was once reading in his right hand. Rishall pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He looked back up, the figure however wasn't pushing himself against the windows or even rather doing anything crazy at all. He was simply looking pensive standing in the dimly lit street with a saddened and scared expression.

"A neucessene." Rishall spat. He turned to leave the thing to itself before he was stopped. Markos banged on the window again this time with.. Focus. He gestured to his eyes the insane gateways and then pointed to a medallion in his hands, a silver token Rishall was unable to make out in detail. The necklace slipped over the cultits head and his eyes switched from a violet purple into a sea green. "What.." He felt confused, Markos seemed to straighten and his lips began to tremble. "I.. will see." He muttered. Nelius had already returned to his seat, looking visibly uncomfortable; it was not unlikely that he never even saw the eye color transition in the first place. He carefully made his way to the door and unlocked it looking for any signs of engagement from the half-elf.

"Yes?" He inquired angrily. "What do you want?" He stepped outside and rapidly shut the door behind him, unwilling to allow the half-elf inside. If anything were to happen Nelius would ensure this.. Thing.. Was taken care of. For five seconds nothing happened, the half-elf looked whimsically at the door but slowly he raised his hands up.