Ruse sighs, and materializes 100 of his conclave stones into his hand, which he then drops into the man's bowl. This would surely buy him a lot of mundane things.

"Very Well Shage, take this generosity in exchange for your assistance."

"Very generous, yes, I thank you," said the beggar. He placed a single coin into his mouth and chewed upon it slowly, swallowing the final coin with a gulp. "Now, Lord of Treachery, how might I assist you?"

Ruse grinned. He had a treacherous nature, yet oddly enough he was one of the greatest assets to the Conclave and the tree right now. Perhaps he contained his treacherous potential through sheer will? Such was the nature of mist...to flow in odd directions.

"Well, let me quote your words exactly:

I can tell you much about the fabled city of Astura Ogur, of its astronomical calculations and its cultural oddities, the mystical patterns and the laws that hold the streets, or of the herbs that will kill a stranger dead and the metal which leaves magic in the minds of cruel men. If you, perhaps, are useful to me, I can divine your position upon the map."

I am interested in all of these things and more, including about the Shage in general, and even the Kiyaash. I am also certainly intrigued by this divination you mention."

Ruse smiled, and added,

"But first, give me your name. Calling you shage is a bit generic, don't you think? Know that I am a dangerous man to cross, but equally I am generous to my allies and vassals, as you have seen."

"Ah, yes, I can see the generosity filling your eyes," said the Shage, and Ruse hinted a trace of bitterness in his tone. "My name, Lord of Treachery, is Khaiyaash Khardus, of the Khaiyaash clan."

Ruse wasn't completely sure why this shage would be bitter, but he was sure to find out by continuing to talk to him.

"Khaiyaash Khardus? How odd...I was under the impression the Khaiyaash was a position of leadership around here, not a clan of shage. Well, a pleasure to meet you Khardus. Please, tell me about everything you know, from apath to shage to divination."

"It is a dynasty and it is a position of leadership. I, Khaiyaash Khardus, am King of the Beggars. We hold the wisdom of the street, of the shining star, of the forces behind Astura Ogur. I have been informed that I am to kill you," he smiled at this, his dagger-sharp teeth caught within an honest grin. "For my elder brother, of course. And yet I hold no weapons. I am more honorable than that. I wished to talk, first, Lord of Treachery."

Ruse - or at least what appeared to be Ruse - grinned at this.

"Oh? How amusing. Well, I will honestly admit that I am impressed by your sense of honor. Treacherous as I may be, a Mistella always appreciates higher principles. They separate you from the rest of the rabble. Most commendable."

Ruse gives a curtsey, and continues,

"And I must say that trying to assassinate your Conclave Lord is extremely rude."

Ruse sighed - how typical for someone to want to kill him. Been the story of his life since his birth.

"But that aside, let us keep talking. I did share my generosity with you, yes? At least give me the priviledge of obtaining my investment first before you decide to continue with the assassination. You may even change your mind by the time we're done. Treacherous or not, I'm far more friendly than most high lords."

"Friendlier, perhaps," said the Khaiyaash. "As am I. I advise you, Lord of Treachery, give up your foolish crusade now, before it is too late. My brother is not one to make empty threats. He has destroyed three of your predecessors. He has the coward Hale eating out of the palm of his hand. All of Apath is his. The Conclave has no place here - the Conclave wasn't even interested in our nation until the witchery stone was found. It is an unjust invasion, Lord of Lies, and will be met with unjustness of our own. Leave and never return."

Ruse suddenly felt a little ill. A gnawing, nauseous pain stabbing him lightly in his stomach and chest. Very lightly, but perhaps it could become worse.

Ruse rubbed his stomach reflexively, a bit surprised by the pain but unsure of its source. He looked up to the Shage and replied,

"Well...before you try to shoo me away, please at least tell me about this place, its people, and its customs, as well as the divination you mentioned." Ruse said firmly but politely. "Let me decide if I should leave or stay after we talk, but please...I am interested in learning about Apath and its inhabitants."

Ruse sighed. They always had to make it difficult.

"I cannot leave - this territory was granted to me by the Conclave. However, I am fully aware of the witchstone here, but will let you know that it is not my top priority for being here. I'm an arrogant man you see, and I don't like when others try to divest me of things that belong to me. Yet, despite my possessiveness I try to take care of my possesions - it's part of that honor thing we talked about earlier. While I fully intend on harvesting the witchstone here, I have other priorities. My first priority is to get a feel for the people and the land. After that, I will get a feel for the ways Apath is prospering, as well as what currently threatens it. Also, there are Osiris cultists potentially in the area, and I am here to help drive them out. The wealth I will earn from witchstone and other natural resources here will partially be used for my benefit, but I will also be investing back in Apath itself, especially Astura Ogur, and its people."

Ruse flicked his hair back, and added,

"I don't know how the previous conclave lords acted, nor do I care quite frankly because what is important is me in the here and now. I will secure my grip over my feifdom one way or the other. Yet, I am not a pure imperialist who wants to heartlessly gut this kingdom and leave, and while I seek to benefit myself, I equally am interested in the prosperity of my feifdom and its people. Do not seek to compare me to the other rabble from the Conclave, because while treacherous I am also nobly arrogant; you won't get a conclave lord as generous as I am in the future, who actually gives a damn about his people."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:34, Mon 03 May 2010.

The pain slowed a little, gnawing at Ruse's stomach, but not reaching any higher or lower. It was an uncomfortable feeling - but for the moment nothing more.

The Khaiyaash looked at Ruse, smiling softly.

"In that case," said Khaiyaash Khardur, King of Beggars. "I am afraid that I will have to kill you.. or I would, perhaps, if your fate wasn't already sealed. My work here is done. You are sick, Lord of Treachery. Machinery is a shaky trust for any man to invest in, and magic even worse. Technology and sorcery - to lies to never mix. They will be your end, imperialist."

He spat at Ruse's feet.

The image of Ruse looked at Khardur, mimicing the pain his true self was experiencing almost perfectly due to the sympathetic nature of the problem. He looked at Khardur, and replied with a grin, looked at him with weary eyes and said,

"Heh...you're right, king of beggars. This imperialist is indeed very sick. Sad you'd still call me that, although I suppose even the best intended individual like myself would be an imperialist by definition."

Ruse coughed a bit, somewhat purposely melodramatically, and continued.

"Well...the magic I placed my bets in is slowly killing me, so yes your job is done. So, would you do a dying man a disservice and be hostile to him until he passed on? Why not meet the wishes of the dying, and sit and talk with me instead. I'll die anyways, so why not just tell me about this place to help a sick, old man pass the time?"

"This is obviously a trick," said the Khaiyaash Khardur. "Nevertheless, you have accepted the Highest Shaman and He has considered you unfit. You will die. So I think we can talk. Yes."

He pulled a small pipe from under his furs, lit it, offered it to Ruse.

"Tobacco," he said. "Rare in Astura Ogur. Interesting, because we have plenty of the niciatina. Much of the plants. So why no tobacco company?"

Ruse shrugged, and declined the tobacco plant.

"No thank you - I don't smoke, especially in my current condition. And you know, if there are other markets here that we can set up, I would be willing to look into it. You're the one who suggested I was only here for one thing. I'm actually here for the whole kit and kaboodle. A tobacco market could be very useful to us - at the very least it would give me some resources to invest in improving the infrastructure of Apath. You know, fix the buildings, clear the roads, give beggars some good honest work they can make a living off of, and so on. We could sell our product to other worlds, if it is high enough quality. Imagine how much this place could flourish? I could even purchase some meteor defense systems for the city."

"Meteoric defense?" asked the King of Beggars, Khaiyaash Khardur, eyebrows raised in mock interest. "And pray, tell us why you believe that the Khaiyaash Apath clan couldn't have purchased these a;lready? Do you believe we are stupid, Lord of Treachery? Or poor?" He spat at Ruse's feet. "This conversation is finished. I would kill you if I could not see how your illness will cripple you."

Ruse coughed a bit, and then sighed, and replied,

"I never said you were stupid or poor - don't put words into my mouth, Shage." Ruse retorted.

"And if these words bother you, then educate me while I still have time left. Sitting there spitting onto the ground doesn't help either of us. Nor does protesting and getting all defensive. If you've got something to say, then say it. If you think my knowledge is lacking, then rectify it and fill in the gaps. I'm sure no other conclave lord will try to listen to you like this, even one who's dying. But don't sit there wallowing in your spite - someone is willing to hear you out, so here is your chance to be heard."

"You cannot hope to dispel the falling of the meteors," said the King. "The main tools of the Shage, before we learned of the ways between worlds, were bone and bronze. Our wars were bloody, yet ineffective. Importation has helped this somewhat, but.. even if we could dispel the meteors, we wouldn't. All metal in Apath - most metal - comes from the fallen stars. Witchstone, even. Especially witchstone. The Savage Jungles have a chance to be great once again.. and the Conclave wishes to bottle that dream, to sell it to aliens and criminals."

Ruse raised an eyebrow, and replied,

"I don't wish to stop the meteors - that would be silly. It would harm the economy of this place. No, I just would set up a defense grid to protect Asatura Ogur and, in time, the Hajadash palace, although Astura ogur is my priority. That way the people who live her will be protected. The other parts of Apath would continue to receive meteors though as normal - like you said they are an important feature of this place and I have no desire to stop that."

Ruse pondered the more imperialist comment, and said,

"And I told you that I plan on investing in apath's infrastructure as well as helping myself and the conclave. I'm not sure what the previous conclave lords were like, but quite frankly due to the circumstances of my birth I am far too arrogant to let a realm under my care fall into ruin while selling resources elsewhere. Now, both at the same time I can and will do, but I'm very possessive of my things and don't like letting them break apart. Do you understand what I'm saying to you? The prosperity of this place depends on the outside world, both for your sakes and my own sake. Yet, this is my feifdom and is considered a part of my estate - even the conclave cannot plunder it without my consent without provoking estate protection laws. If anything, I'm the only one standing between Apath and those who would wish to plunder it completely. Treacherous as I may be, at least I have both my interests and Apath's equally in mind. More than I can say about anyone else."

If he couldn't see it, then Ruse would make him understand what a precious resource he was for them. And everything he was saying was completely true too, ironically enough.

"Perhaps," said the King of Beggars. "It is unfortunate, however, that my elder brother, the Khaiyaash Apath, has different ideas on how we should prosper. He would see you dead, see the entire Fort Conclave razed. And who are you, Lord of Treachery, to stop him? You cannot lie your way out of certain death."

Ruse felt a sudden pain rip through his left leg. It felt as if it'd been shot, but there it was not a tearing or piercing sensation - rather, it was the pain of something catastrophically wrong biologically.

Ruse sighed, and replied,

"So your brother will not work with me then? Not at all? What a shame." Ruse said, his voice partially mocking but partially sincere. Perhaps his words had an edge to them - being on your deathbed tended to have that effect.

"But you are not your brother, are you, king of beggars? What if I either convinced your brother to follow me, or forced him to - perhaps even deposed him and became the Kiyaash myself. What would you think then? Would I gain your respect that way? Would you view me in a whole new light, with accompanying delicious irony?"

Ruse suspected so, for he knew the shage to be a forceful people despite their klingon-like honor.

"And what of the great shaman? If I can ally with him, would your opinion also change? I can tell you are not as full of hate as you may wish me to think. You love Apath, after all."

"Hah," the King of Beggars grunted. He spat at Ruse's feet. It was not a sign of hate, but rather a symbol of the folly, the madness of the Liar's words. "You cannot ally with the Great Shaman. He takes and he destroys. He gives and he receives. He is beyond I, beyond all. And I cannot imaging you defeating my brother, the greatest fighter of the Khaiyaash, in combat. Hah. It is ludicrous."

He shrugged.

"If either was possible," he said. "If you were to kill my brother you would become Khaiyaash Yogr - King Despot. If you can, say, ally with the Great Shaman than you would become Khaiyaash Yosunahabrash - King of the Mystics. Neither feat is possible, but," he shrugged again. "Dying men are accustomed to the impossible. Yes. You would win some respect, a little honour, Lord of Treachery."

He laughed, as if to shake the absurdity from him, and spat again.

Ruse's form grinned at the king of beggars. Ruse quite liked what he heard, and also - oddly enough - received a slight buzz from the king's energy and enthusiasm. These Shage...at first ruse thought they were but brutes, but as time passes they are truly interesting him.

"Why, my leige of Beggars, I would not like either of those titles. I may be the lord of treachery, but I am greedy in things like this. I don't want one or the other, but instead both! I think Khaiyaash Yogrnahabrash, the Ferocious Mystic, would suit me best."

Ruse looks at the king of beggars seriously this time, and continues,

"You say the great shaman takes and destroys, but yet he gives and receives as well. What sorts of things do you think the great shaman would want?"

The King of Beggars shrugged, ignoring Ruse's display of arrogance.

"What might the Great Shaman desire? Surely that is beyond any one of us to determine. Nevertheless, conventional wisdom combined with my knowledge of these secret matters gives me the belief that there is a very specific enemy of the Shaman that he would need destroyed, and yet cannot achieve himself. This is troubling, and yet probably true."

Ruse raised a curious brow, and said,

"Ah yes, that is...most curious and potentially disturbing. I have witnessed the Shaman first-hand. It is inside of me as we speak, growing. Devouring me piece by piece. So I do empathize with your concern."

Ruse's eyes flashed with hope, and he continued,

"But...but I am neither the shaman nor his enemy. I walk with the tree of life, so I may be able to walk with the great shaman too. Perhaps help it fight its enemy. Tell me, Beggar King, is there a technique the natives here would use for communicating with the shaman? One that doesn't directly involve invoking magic while still going through it? some sacred site perhaps, a ritual, a rite?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:22, Thu 03 June 2010.

"If there is, Lord of Lies, I wouldn't tell you," said the King of Beggars, honestly enough. "It would not be for your kind. It would be our power, a secret power, and I doubt even if we had one that it would work for you."

ruse grinned, and said,

"I'm very adapable you know. I mean even the great shaman wasn't able to kill me in one blow. Although that may be mother's doing more than my own."

He sighed, and continued,

"Well...thank you for your time, king of beggars. I'm going to go find a nice comfortable hole to crawl into before I die. Good day."

With that, Ruse shifted into mist form, and vanished completely from sight.