Midsummer 12, 6107 RTR (Aug 22, 2007) Qing visits the hot springs to finally shed his old skin.
(The Legend of Buffy) (Madame Natasha) (Necropolis) (Qing) (Stonebarrow) (Sylvania) (The Return of Valicross)
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    Mens' Hot Springs
    Surrounded by a high wall of planks and tree-trunks, this natural hot spring has been converted into a bathing area lined with decorative rocks and stone benches, both above and below the water. A shower area at the front opens into a changing cabin with shelves for stowing clothes. A slightly thinner, but no less solid wall separates this half from the Womens' area.

The journey back from the castle was beyond tiring. Or perhaps the experience while there laid heavier upon his serpentine shoulders. He had retired immediately to bed … and even when dawn came the next day the mage found it difficult to rise. But … finally by noon, Qing has managed to wake and make his way to the hot springs. He is long overdue for a soak; not to mention that the damp weather here has caused his outer layer of scales to atrophy and loosen in preparation for shedding away. Or perhaps it's merely Qing's body trying to shed away the experiences from the previous day…

Of late, the testy reptilian mage that's become a familiar sight around Stonebarrow has gotten more irritable than usual. His usual frostiness has taken on an edge, isolating him… the more charitable might chalk it up to weariness after the past misadventures, but some might have also noticed his eyes having gone milky, almost a shade of pink. Winding his way to the hot springs, he waved aside offers to guide him despite some difficulty seeing, but he makes it there more or less without mishap. Pausing at the edges of the pool, Qing flicks his tongue guardedly, glancing around to see if he is alone.

The mens' side of the springs is empty at this time of day. There is, however, some sound of sloshing water coming from the womens' side. Even without being able to see the steam, the reptile can feel the heat rippling off the surface of the water

Qing lets out a sigh, as if finally giving himself permission to relax somewhat. Undoing the band under his chin, he takes his black bowl hat off and carefully sets it aside, upside down so it can hold his spectacles, and then the pair of pendants his fishes out of the neck of his mantle. His cloak clasp follows, and even his guild ring comes off, all carefully hidden under the pile of white cloth he lays over the whole of it. Left bare, the snake stretches his six arms out, and then slips into the steaming water, sighing again as the heat washes over his coils.

And for a time, everything is quiet and peaceful. "It is about time you allowed yourself a chance to rest, Zhu Ye," comes a feminine voice from the womens' side. The voice is familiar enough, the 'mysterious' Madame Natasha. "You have been active every day since you arrived."

A slight splash betrays the sudden turn of Qing's head and his surprise, the snake otherwise moving little except to flick his tongue again. "Mage Al-Nadia," he hisses, settling back down into the water. "Feh. To be so slothful galls me, but… this time it is a necessity. It is time."

"Do not mistake relaxation to being 'slothful', Master Mage. There is much you may learn if you simply sit and listen to the world," Natasha replies from her side of the springs. There's the sound of water sloshing and she then adds (and sounding a bit louder. She must have moved closer), "Time? Time for … ah, of course. The Nagai renewal. Shedding of the old and facing the world born yet again, I take it?"

The Rokuga's face creases, but he nods grudgingly. "Mm. Fair enough, I suppose. There is simply so much work to do, and so little time to do it in." He drifts closer to the barrier, his long body undulating through the steaming waters. "Yes," he says, his tone becoming contemplative. "Soon, I will reach my 60th year. I have not shed since I left the Empire, what feels a lifetime ago. To have grown since I have come here, it feels… strange. Every stirring, every eddy in the aether around us is known to me, and it fills me down to my fingertips and tail."

"This land is different; wild and untamed. The power of spirit is strong here, as are the scars that have been torn into it by the wars. To those who are sensitive to it, well, it expands our view of the world around us," Natasha notes in a languid and soft tone. "I am glad you have found problems here to interest you and that you have not dismissed its people as just simple folk. Hopefully they have not been too trying? I have sensed some strange stirrings as of late; but so faint as I cannot identify them."

Qing frowns, though it's more in thought than anything else. He turns his head at an odd angle, rubbing his snout on a rock. "I have been to Sylvania in the past. But perhaps then, I had not been ready." He sniffs. "Some have tried my patience considerably, but I am not the taskmaster I was. Perhaps I am getting too old, or perhaps it is how so many institutions have crumbled around me." He pauses a moment, then continues guardedly. "You have have sensed the results of our finished work with the staff of Valicross."

There's quiet for a time. "Mmm," Natasha finally says, breaking the silence, "Age often has the ability to temper the impatience of youth, yes. There was a time when I was not nearly so tolerant of others and those of lesser intellect. But … my experiences opened my eyes to a great many things and taught me more than any school ever could." The silence returns for a bit, as if the Khatta may not want to know the answer … and yet she does eventually ask the question, "And what were the results? What did you … find with that accursed instrument of his?"

"The enchantment on the staff was an elaborate spirit matrix that could be entered by the consciousness, much like Bravil's spirit malady," murmurs Qing. He pauses to scrape his head on the rock more vigorously, then goes on. "The matrix contained trapped spirits for use to fuel his aberrant ritual, housed in what one might expect from such a twisted psyche. I discorporated it piece by piece. There were some things of note, however… "

"A prison in the palm of his hand … or a graveyard. Both are disturbingly fitting for him," Natasha notes quietly. She lets out a long and audible breath before continuing to ask, "What else did you find of note? Please tell me you did not find any evidence of further threats."

The Rokuga's voice is lowered when he murmurs, "… Aeztepa. Valicross did not act alone."

The calm on the other side is disrupted by the sound of splashing water. In a few moments silence returns, but he can feel a surge of magic from the other side. As he's trying to determine just what spell, it becomes obvious enough when a three foot long spectral 'dragon' of nearly Jadaian style slithers through the wall and settles down, looking intently at the Naga. Spirit Familiar … definitely crafted by skill; she must have had a held spell on hand; like most any mage typically does, of course. This time, when Natasha speaks, it comes through the familiar and the voice is low, "Necropolis is active here?"

Qing looks up at the faintly transparent dragon. "I cannot say for certain. It was kept locked away in a private sanctum within the matrx. There is no telling where he came by this malignant entity."

The spectral creature purses its lips in thought. "Are you so certain it was locked away, Mage Qing?" it asks. "Could the passage have been a gateway to another point? A connection that helped feed the staff and its bearer? I find it hard to believe even one as powerful as Valicross was could have captured something from that accursed place."

"No doubt it had its own ends," muses the pallid reptile. Both he and the spirit have a ghostly quality to them, making their conversation strangely appropriate. "Whether it was actually present or not, there was no time to ascertain. It evidently had designs on me."

"Mmm. How so?" the spectral dragon inquires, "And what have you done to protect yourself since?"

Even with Natasha's familiar looking on, Qing's compulsion to wriggle out of his skin can't be restrained, and he the skin around his head loosens, beginning to peel back from his snout. "My defense was offense. With Weaver's help, we resealed the chamber and went on to obliterate all traces of magic on the staff."

The 'dragon' frowns at the description. "It is good that you obliterated all traces of magic on the staff … as for the Entity of Aeztepa, did you make sure to have obliterated it as well?" it asks. "If it was not directly part of the staff … are you certain you did not somehow release it?"

"I sensed nothing out of the ordinary after having finished," says Qing. "Something of that nature cannot easily hide out in the open. I have dealt with Aeztepa before."

"Be careful, Mage Qing. You are already forgetting your recent lesson … that all things grow and change and grow. Do not ever assume an old enemy will always maintain and use old tactics … or not learn new ways to hide," the dragon warns and waggles its tail at the Naga. "I would advise caution and vigilance."

The Rokuga seems to have grown a second head, filmy and with milky eyes. The witchdoctor's reptilian face is familiar, but his scales are a purer white, not the bone color of before, and his eyes are a deep red. "Caution and vigilance is what I have built my vocation around. You were my teacher once, and a good one, Mage Al-Nadia," he says, somewhat stiffly. "But I have seen as many turnings as you. In any case, I do not consider the matter closed by any means. I will be investigating further."

"Good. Though I am not as … active as I once was, if you should ever wish assistance, I am always listening," the spectral dragon offers. "But I am also certain that your student, Morgan, may also wish to assist and this is his land, not mine. Plus, he should get some experience in dealing with the darker truths. Even out here I know how weak the Collegia has become these past years. If Aeztepa has decided to assert itself once more … then all the allies that can be mustered may be needed to stop it. But, let us hope all these are… are just passing echoes."

Qing's neck seems to split down the middle, the skin peeling away from new, white scales, the mask of his face folding down over the snake's back. The mage continues to rise out of the water, rolling his shoulders in waves to loosen them, tugging as if to free himself from manacles. Something else seems to be pulling away, as if Qing's own spirit were wriggling fiercely to rise out of its own skin, surges of energy seeming to invigorate him. "They will themselves be put to the test should they darken this place… yessss, I can feel it now… Sinai's magics suffuse the very essence of my being… moves as I will it… " He seems almost in a trance, but a moment later he snaps out of it, half his skin sloughed off from his shoulders, arms, and chest. It takes him a moment to recover the thread of the conversation. "But… yes. I will keep Nightshade quite busy, and I am sure your counsel will be useful. I am learning more of this place with each passing day. For instance, this 'Buffy'… "

"Ah, the vampiric spirit of the Chalk mines I've heard rumors about," the dragon comments as it curls up into a small coil. "Were you planning on investigating it?"

Qing stands some seven feet out of the water, having pulled his arms out of the old skin, which has now flopped onto the surface of the water behind him, floating. Muscles in his coils pull and undulate, the Rokuga's many arms clutching the rocks for support as he slowly works his way out of his own cast-off hide. "Perhaps, but not in so many words. She appeared while we were dealing with the staff. I came to… to the echoes of Valicross' younger victims, and she wished to take them back with her. It is perhaps these that you sensed."

"She collected the spirit echoes of children?" asks the dragon, its brow arching slightly. "Most curious. One of my tribe has actually met her. She described Buffy in quite glowing terms. It is most curious that a true vampire would be so … kind. I have been considering methods to investigate her that would not violate local customs. There is only one I can think of."

"What did you have in mind?" asks Qing. A flick of his forked tongue betrays genuine curiosity.

"You cannot enter the chalk mines physically, as it would be trespass of territory. However, riding the natural flow of magic as a spirit projection, an envoy, would not violate that rule. Given the nature of a vampire, it should be a trivial matter to trace back the ripple that she must generate," the dragon explains. "Walk the spirit, as it were."

Qing's body scrapes along the barrier dividing the pools, his skin now a tube that peels inside out from his coils, foot by pale foot down toward his tail. "That seems reasonable. My interest is piqued." The snake begins to mutter in his strange language, wisps of spirit coalescing around him, bit by bit.

"Then let me know when you would have time. After all, two mages managing it would be safer than just one of us. I would prefer to have an ally along when walking into the lair of a vampire, even as a spirit envoy," the dragon notes.

"Oi, what's that funny sm-" comes an odd voice, and then the brown face of Emmett peeks into the bath to spot the Rokuga, his skin, and a glowing dragon. For the first time ever, the otter is truck speechless.

Qing's arms seem to sprout ghostly versions of themselves. A trunk they're attached to bends out of Qing's back, until a spirit in the shape of the mage himself twists away, still joined at the torso. It begins peeling the last of the shed skin away from his tail, while the red-eyed mage turns his head to regard the otter. His scales are pristine now, a pure white, and his eyes are clear, deep red rubies.

"Now is not a good time for a bath," the dragon … with the voice of Natasha, tells the otter as he stares at the odd spectacle before him.

"Hey… uh… I'll just use the ladies' side den," Emmett says, and vanishes.

Qing murmurs, "I wouldn't, if I were you."

The dragon sighs, commenting, "It appears our discussion is at an end. I have to go deal with an otter; I cannot leave my body … exposed." The spectral lizard then seems to draw in a deep breath … expanding outward until it explodes into a spray of blue motes. And it turns out Qing's comment was correct … for not only a few moments later there is an audible crackle of energy (and well as for those sensitive to it) … then the sound of a stunned otter hitting the wooden platform with a thump.

"Oi!" Emmett says weakly. "Can you do that again?"

If Qing has a sense of humor, he doesn't let on, but there is a momentary quirk at the corners of his mouth. Rather than say anything more, he gathers his shed skin, neatly bundling it up and emerging from the water to retrieve his belongings. Though he still smells strange, it's not the stinging, acidic scent of before, the chemical reek left on his old skin. "Al-Nadia was right… I did need that."

It's amazing the things one leaves behind in a bath. Dirt, grime, old scents, sometimes it even feels like old worries float away. As the water rolls from the mage's back and back into the pool … dark spots appear intermixed with the droplets. For the briefest moment, Qing's snow white back ripples with the pattern of a jaguar … then it flows off him along with the shedding water back into the steaming pool behind. And then it's almost if a feline face curls and dances in the wisps of steam behind him laughing silently … until that too fades within moments. Yes, a bath can wash away many things. Hopefully for good…


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GMed by Jared

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