The Power of Names

I glance over at where my scythe is being dragged along the floor and focus for a moment to stand it up. Shadowstepping to it, I grab hold of it as I fall, hoping to stay on my feet, continuing to hold it still with my mind, trying to feel if the paralysis will continue for much longer now that she is no longer touching me with her claw.

Enthriss turns around, mildly surprised by your sudden vertical nature.

"Really?"

She begins to move towards you.

The 'poison' seems to be slightly lessened, but not massively so.

I grin at her and gesture as best I can.

"No, please. Do carry on."

Enthriss stares at you coldly for a few seconds, before lashing out at the scythe with one talon. She then falls to the floor clutching the talon, her eyes blazing.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE LIFEGIVER IS HOLDING THAT THING UP!?"

She squirms around so that she is facing you, before basically giving up and flopping to the ground.

"Get me a bandage you ignorant fool."

You are still paralysed.

The talon is bleeding blue blood.

I begin laughing uproariously.

"Oh dear this is just so typical of us isn't it? Call for a henchman or something." I try my best to lower myself into a seated position. "So you came all the way out of here for little ol' me?"

"Cannot. Be. Bothered."

She rolls onto her back, and after a quick mumble the heavy stone slab under her talon picks itself up and wraps itself tightly around her talon. She then staggers to her (now mismatched) feet, and collapses into a nearby bench.

"We... have a problem."

She looks at you straight in the eyes, an old nostalgic feeling filling you.

"And it's a witch. A deamon borne witch."

You feel the poison lessen slightly.

"Sounds like fun."

She sighs heavily, slumping further in the bench.

"Because she is not technically a deamon we cannot track her, meaning that she has had full reign throughout the city for some time now. All divinations onto her have failed as she is protecting by a non allied (Neutral, Avalore or Rogue World) god, and the deamon hunters have had little to no success finding her.

I am fully aware of what your eyes allow you to do, and if we manage to find -and capture- her, then all will be forgiven, and I'll turn a blind eye as you go back to robbing the church's coffers for your crazy crusade. You may search for her and gather information alone, however I must be present when you go to assault her, as I don't want you screwing up and scaring her off."

She looks up at the scythe which is vibrating slightly.

"And what in the name of the Lifemother have you got in that scythe now?!"

She points at the scythe, a confused and worried expression on her face. You notice the naming tattoo on her left (non claw) wrist, which you always used to joke was there to remind her what her name was if she ever forgot.

"Err well, yaknow how it goes, see a giant evil demon, steal a priceless church artifact and use it to imprison the demon, accidentally turning into a giant weapon, get cocky and accidentally imprison another demon in there... normal stuff."

Enthriss sighs an even deeper sigh, burying her head in her lap. (Fear the contortionist!) Raising head head slightly she mutters:

"I... see. And you are going to offer the scythe up to the church for eradication of the deamons I hope?"

She looks you straight in the eyes.

"Or are you going to be an idiot again?"

Ahh... that might be a bit hard. Its kind of bound too me.

"Bound in what way...?"

She begins picking at the rock surrounding her foot.

"Hell if I know, I was hoping a powerful mage or, I dunno, a High Priestess of Erona could look into it for me. The thing wont leave me alone."

You feel the poison lessen to the extent that you could walk, shakily.

"Oh, I wonder where you would get one of those..."

She looks at you scornfully.

"You're gonna make me get up and look at it aren't you?"

She resumes picking at her stone covered talon.

"Ugh... This is gonna hurt for a while... You have it lucky with your solid bones and everything - what's the point in hollow bones when I HAVE NO WINGS?!"

As she exclaims the last part of the sentence she stares straight at you, as if you knew the answer.

"Because you're the Gods' bitch." I explain to her matter-of-factly, making a gesture as best I can with one hand and sending the scythe spinning over to her, impaling itself tip-first in the floor at her feet.

She reaches out to grab the haft, before pulling back a fraction before touching it.

"This..."

She looks at you quizzically.

"Why is the demigod of DEATH protecting your blade? You made some pact or something?"

She mutters a bit, a small ring of runes appearing around her hand. She reaches out for the blade, taking it by the haft, before pulling it towards her, the soul blade tip around and inch from what would have been her knee. She begins meditating.

I laugh awkwardly and rub the back of my neck.

"Ahaha... I do seem to remember something like that..?"

Enthriss doesn't reply, but instead starts babbling softly under her breath. After a while you make it out to be an old nursery rhyme that is sung to children.

She begins to slump.

The poison is practically gone.

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms behind my head and lean back against the wall. Wrenching the tip of the scythe out of the floor, I flip it up on its end, spin it so that the flat of the blade is facing her, then lean it towards her and spin it so that its smacks her in the side of the head.

She leans away from the blade, then falls over sideways, nursery rhyme faltering as she hits the floor. She lays there, the nursery rhyme returning.

"Riiiiiiight. Imma guessin that's this 'ere witch then..." Heaving myself to my feet, I call my scythe to my hand and put it over my shoulder, holding it in place. Leaning down, I place one of her hands under the tabard and her belt, and the other across her breast. After a moment of admiration of my piece of art, I turn and stroll out in the direction the Carilasou woman left in the hopes of finding someone who knows slightly more about the witch.

As you reach the doorway you feel the distinct absence of the deamonic essence that has been in your scythe, and the babbling behind you increases to the point of screaming.

I sigh and turn around.

Enthriss is writhing on the floor, her hands still in the same positions giving her the appearance of some bizzare sex craven beast. Floating a few inches above her is the ghostly form of the deamon, hands phasing through into Enthriss' head.

Your runesight shows strange words linking her to the ground, it appears to be a chain of the word "Enazane".

The poison is gone.

With another sigh I lift the scythe and toss it so that it spins through the air, the cracked soulblade on the bottom of the scythe passing through the ghostly demon's head.