Giovanni was far more used to the rough and harsh terrain as he took the long slow path towards his destination. The rocks, the slopes, the scents, and the sights all innately familiar to him. Of course, he did his best to navigate them, but he was just as much as susceptible to the environs as anyone else and it took him longer than typical. He was travelling now with little sleep and food to sustain him. Ever since he had reached this particular part of the Reach, it had been even harder to hunt and gather and find safe shelter than usual.

As Dawn broke and he felt the light of the sun fall upon him, he felt some manner of strength return to him, even as he staggered the remaining distance to the front door of the Cottage. Sunlight. No matter what, always seemed to be able to give him that extra push, the ability to summon more strength to carry on. As the warm rays of light washed over him, he felt a slow and gradual sense of calm come over him. He had made it here. This was where he needed to be.

Taking in a deep breath, Giovanni knocked upon the door loudly and firmly. He wanted to make sure he could be heard, but he paced his knocks to show he wasn't in a hurry either. This Person....This Curse-Eater...He hope they could give him the means to free himself.

The hollow, reverberations of his knocks upon the door seemed to echo in the pale dawn twilight ... and it was several minutes (just as Giovanni was wondering if, indeed, the place was now deserted) that he heard shuffling from with.

Soon enough, a harsh male voice from within came from just the other side of the door, “Is that you, Renoir?
Leave the nails and bread, and anything else you have, out there.   I’m in no state to be seen toda...”, before being overcome with a rasping cough that went on for at least a minute.

There was no disguising the disease and plague in the sound, and Giovanni realised that the air close to the domicile reaked of the same.

Giovanni paused for a moment after having heard the occupant from within the Cottage speak. First he had considered the place might have been abandoned, but when they had spoken, and he heard the quality of their voice....that was when the smell hit him. Was he too late? Had he traveled to slow and cautiously to get here? Frowning a bit, he steeled his resolve. He had to at least speak with this man.

"I'm afraid it is not Renoir sir," he began, speaking loudly and clearly through the door. "But my name is Giovanni, and I have traveled far to meet with you, It may be within my power to Aid you, if you are willing to grant me an audience to explain myself,"

There was silence for some time, and Giovanni could almost sense the trepidation and contemplation from behind the door.
After a while, the door was opened from within, just a fraction.  The darkness within was much deeper than without, with no moon to illuminate its interior.

"You should know," came the harsh, gravelly voice from within, "that not evenI can hold back the curse of this land.  It has me in its grasp as much an the land.  If you enter, you I give no guarantee that you'll not open yourself to it yourself".

He could smell something sweet cooking within; something that held the mild, honey scent of old meat, spiced to extensive levels to make it palatable ... probably stewed with root vegetables.
As bad as that sounded, it made his mouth water and his stomach grumble.

Out the back, he heard something rustle, and a soft bleating sound.

With a soft, sincere and weary smile that spoke of his deep intimacy with the nature of a Curse, Giovanni looked into that small crack in the open door, nodding his head gently in understanding and agreement.

"Know that I speak true when I declare that the particular Curse that seems to have poisoned the area of this land with plague and pestilence holds no real sway over me and I have no dread putting myself at risk for it. My troubles are far more...ethereal and intangible. I ask again, could we speak to one another. I only come in search of information at the very least and I give my Oath that if there is something in my power I can do to Aid you for your time in return, then I will do it." he explained once again trying his best to look as disarming as possible.

Unfortunately, the longer he stood there, and smelled the cooking food, the more hungrier he became. His last meal having long since been a day or so ago. Very audibly and noticeably, his stomach gurgled obnoxiously loud. It didn't matter if it smelled like this man had over done and over-seasoned his meal, it smell heavenly compared to the watery slop he prepared himself based off the meager things he scrounged up on the road.

The sound of wild-life out the back of the cottage was something he noticed, but unless it was the sound of terror or anger, Giovanni told himself it was just livestock.

Sorry, I didn't make my intentions clear: the opening of the door was supposed to be an invitation to enter  ;-P

Also, just so we are on the same page:  "plague and pestilence holds no real sway over me" ... are you under the assumption that Giovanni is immune to plagues and disease?  That ability is true for those who have bonded with the Word of Health, but its not a common Godbound fact.


"Then consider yourself invited in, young man", came the hoarse voice from within.

               (making an assumption here)
As Giovanni entered, his eyes instantly adapted to the darkness, seeing through the gloom and encompassing night as though daylight shone.  It had been this way since his empowerment at the shrine, so long ago.  Nothing seemed able to impede his sight any longer.

The cottage was made claustrophobic with its possessions; unusual for a peasant home, which were usual sparsely furnished.
Here, small desks and shelves holding books and tomes were piled high with writing materials and alchemical, apothecaric looking equipment, and sat beside barrels of unknown substances and bales of dried materials.  Herbs, dried carcasses and strange, mystic ornaments hung from the ceiling.
Giovanni could see a large map of the realm mounted on a far wall, with another hand-drawn, incomplete sketch of the Bleak Reach on another.   Above one work bench were several posters with runes and glyphs, bound by drawings and sprawling diagrams.

And in the corner of the small cottage, a small kitchenette ... a bowl of stew bubbling away on the wood-fired stove and a kettle teetering barely-balanced.   Although, at this time of the morning, the fire had burned down during the night to be little more now than glowing cinders in the oven belly.
And a doorless doorway leading, presumably, to a small bedroom area.

The old man, was preparing two bowls of stew, to place upon the rickety old table.  There was only one chair.
"You'll find no great comfort here, but I'll be gracious enough to share some breakfast while we speak ... so long as you remember your place as guest", turning to place the bowls on the table, and for the first time look at Giovanni.
His gaze linger some time, as though appraising Giovanni; almost like he was looking further into Giovanni than mortal eyes could, or should.

Then he nodded, and gestured to the side of the table that had no chair.  But he did offer Giovanni to "Pull up a barrel or something, if you've the strength.   The One knows that I don't any lon...." and again was taken by the plague cough, which he tried to bury in the crook of his elbow.

He was an old man, and Giovanni knew the plague was as much his bane as age.
When he finished coughing, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and sat upon the chair opposite, picking up a spoon.
"So, bullshit aside, nobody comes here to help ... they come looking for help.
Oh don't worry, there'll be a cost, so keep your 'I can help you out, old man' to yourself, and tell ol' Torvill what you want with straight words", and began to eat, expecting to be listening as he did so.

No worries, I just played it safe just in case. As for Giovanni's statements about the plague having no sway over him, I figure Giovanni still doesn't grasp the full extent of his ability or it's limitations, but he figures that he's more resistant to such things. He has no real idea if what he said is true or not, but he believes it to be hehe.

Giovanni nodded and made his way in slowly and carefully, making sure to take the time to avoid bumping into anything unnecessary or accidentally.

"Thank you kindly for allowing my presence within your home," Giovanni replied graciously and somberly. The Old Man was gruff and stern, but He was thankful for the hospitality all the same. He waited first as the old man's guest before he moved to the side of the table with no chair, once the old man was seated and eating. Bowing his head in thanks to his host, he took up the bowl and took in a deep breath.

"I believe myself to be under some manner of Curse. All my life there has been some sort of awful insidious presence following me. For most of my life I had originally just assumed it to bad luck or natural misfortune that was to be my lot in life. But...Some time ago something had changed for me. I believe I was given a Blessing or something to that effect. And With it I saw what was Bound to me. Some sort of...Demon or something like it. At that time, I learned I could banish it, but only for a short period of time. It always comes back. Always." he explained plainly. For a moment he stopped talking to eat the stew, savoring it's contents and flavors profusely with the joy of a man to whom buttered bread is a luxury.

"Once I became aware of...It. I set out to learn what I could, and I learned of you. But the rumors were more tales of terror and fear than anything real. I came here hoping you could help, or if not, at the very least grant me more information as to how I could Cleanse myself of this foul Curse." he added on, stopping to take a few more spoonfuls of stew as he stood there.

"And I will pay the cost. I meant it as well. If I have the power to Aid you, I will. It may be that the Blessing I was granted isn't strong enough for my circumstance, but, I believe it may help you."

The old man sat, listening almost as much as he gave his attention to the breakfast.   He nodded and 'ah-hah'ed enough to suggest that he was taking in the general jist of Giovanni's explanation, at the least.

By the time Giovanni came to an end, and was finishing up his own bowl of gruel, the old man stood to take his bowl to the nearby bucket of water.
"Sure, sure" he said, "everyone's got their curses and bad luck.
Yeup, I'll help you out as best I can, young fella.  And in return, we agree that my woodpile out back there get filled with freshly hewn firewood, eh!".
He returned to the table and pulled his seat out towards Giovanni a little, so as he could sit comfortably and look the boy up and down.

"Well, you aint got the plague yet, so that one bit of good luck I can share with you".  Giovanni could see the signs of plague upon the man; the dried blood at the corner of his eyes, nose, ears.  The small, rash like welt that extend from under his clothing slight up the neck.   And one blistering wound on the man's wrist (which he generally kept hidden).

His eyes seemed to look deep into Giovanni's eyes and aura for some time, his eyebrows slowly raising in what seemed like growing surprise, however ... as Ol' Torvill began to take a lot more interest in whatever he was seeing in Giovanni.

Eventually, Ol' Torvill blinked; refocusing his eyes and attention on Giovanni.
He looked ... impressed? intimidated?     "Well, hell.  You aint no simpleton now are you boy?  What exactly are you?
And don't give me no shit.   I know Power when I see's it.
And there aint going to be no wood chopping for you.   Any debt from one such as you will be getting me more than a weeks worth of that chore done".

Giovanni could tell that the man had more to say ... but he was waiting for a response first.

Once the bowl was finished, Giovanni returned it to the old man gratefully. It may have been a rather extremely simple meal and on the extremely thin side, but it had hit the spot for him, an entire bowl. Already he was grateful for the old man's hospitably, he was willing to do anything to help. When he was offered the seat to sit down, he took it, with a slight feeling of trepidation crawling on the back of his neck, uncertain as to what would unfold. The more his rheumy eyes stared at him, the more uncomfortable he began to feel. If the rumors and gossip had been true, the old man was looking into his Soul. he would see things even Giovanni only had the barest of inklings on.

Of course, his reaction and follow up statements only solidified that chain of thought. "I don't claim to be a simpleton sir, only a wandering nomad Cursed to his very Soul. Beyond that much, I'm afraid there isn't much else to tell you that I haven't already told you. For my entire life, I've been overshadowed by this foul presence that clings to my very spirit and only recently, something happened to me, I think it was a Blessing or something, but even I am unsure. It's allowed me to..weaken the Curses effects for a time. It's made me stronger with my Blade, it's...well, I feel as though I have a connection to the very Sun itself, but still for all it's worth, It can't seem to shatter this foul presence that follows my every wake. Perhaps the only other thing I can tell you sir is that I think I received this Blessing when I stumbled upon in an ancient shrine in a long abandoned city of some sort. But, that's it." 

The old man nodded, listening and acknowledging what the young man before him said.   But Giovanni could tell that Ol' Torvill didn't exactly believe him, or trust that Giovanni was telling the all of it.

"I'll do what I can to understand the malady you're under, kid.
I'll try to understand who did this to you, and fix the bits I can.  Hell, maybe we'll get lucky, and I can banish your devil.  If not, maybes I can tell you something helpful.

But then, Then you get me out of here.   Even if you have to carry me, you get me to Long Nets, down on the other side of the Omen Peaks" he said, negotiating his price.  "I wanna die in my home, not here in this accursed place.
Even if you have to delivery me dead; you get me there, and see that I gets a good burial.  Rites and all, so's I don't end up in hell.
Deal?'


So long as Giovanni agreed, the old man made himself comfortable again, and again began to look deep into Giovanni's soul.
It made Giovanni feel awfully uncomfortable, inside and out.

And that's when he felt the curse within, his demon, stirring.
It wasn't just Giovanni that was being scrutinised.
And what was it they said about looking into the Void?

There was no hesitation as he spoke, the moment the Old Man had made the offer, Giovanni jumped at it. "Absolutely. In one way or another, I will return you to your home," he began to say, the feeling of pride and uncertainty rising within him as the Old Man's gaze bore into him once more and he felt the stirrings of that Curse begin to grow in strength once more. The Demon or whatever it was regaining it's strength from his own attempted banishing. "I give you my Word, I will do everything in my power to bring you to Long Nets alive so that you may look upon your home in the light of the Sun," he added, the unknown Power of his Word filling him and reaching out into the very fabric of reality. It was faint at first, but with every passing instance as he spoke that Oath aloud, rays of Sunlight began to filter in through what windows there were brilliant and cleansing in their comforting Light, one such pall of light washed over Giovanni, giving him an almost radiant glow of Power, casting his shadow wide against the wall, revealing it's nature as a bent and twisted thing of murderous malice and bloodthirsty intent. The contrast of the Curse and his own growing Power in stark revalatory display even if Giovanni himself was unaware of how he was doing it.

"My sword shall be your Shield and my Blessing shall be your Light in the dark, and my Word shall be your Ally." he added solemnly, bowing his head a bit.

... and it was in that moment, as Giovanni felt invigorated, bowing his head, that he felt the Demon grow.

He'd felt its presence more potently recently.  Even since he'd been blessed at that strange, abandoned alter ... when he'd first truly sensed and understood the curse upon him ... he'd been able to 'see it' more clearly when it reared its ugly head.
Not only could he sense its attention more acutely, he'd learned to draw that blessing around him, like aegis and shield, to protect himself from the malice presence.

As sunlight now washed across Giovanni, he suddenly realised that the beast was awakening ... not just stirring.
It was, indeed, rearing its malice head.
Maybe it was the sunlight, maybe the gaze and presence of the old man?  But something had irritated it, and it rose within him now with a vengeance.

He would not let it's dark malodorous power to awaken. He refused it. Recalling the feelings that had overcome him in that strange little run down abandoned and ruined garden shrine he tapped into that Power, letting it Inside him as it had before, as he did so, a halo of light began to gather around his head, as though it was drawing in the light around him more actively, and as a result the Demon of the Curse grew in Darkness more and more given far more shape and form with the creation and formation of Sunlight. Giovanni wouldn't let it touch the Old Man, Old Torvill who even now was likely watching this as it all unfolded. He hoped it wouldn't hurt the old man, weak with plague as he was.

The Light filled him and surged through him with it's Brilliance, and the Wandering Vagabond turned his attention to the Shadow on the Wall, the thing seemingly staring back at him of it's own accord now, as though it was no longer bound to his own physical form. It twtiched and writhed with foul insidious nature, a thing of unreal shape and form, cast only by his own Shadow. It wasn't really there, or maybe it was. He couldn't slash at it with his sword, his weapon, as sharp and skilled as he was with it, never connected with it. No, the only thing he could do was turn this Blessing upon it as he had done so that very first time.

"You shall not work your awful power Demon," he said, Power infusing his speech. "Begone from whence you came, back to the Shadows and the Dark from which you were created, trouble me and those under my sworn Protection no more!" he said, channeling his Will into his words, letting the now grossly incandescent light that was Burning within him out and into the entire room, flooding the building with the light, letting it become consumed by it until there was no place for such maleficent Shadows to be created.

Givoanni expends one effort to use Purity of Brilliant Law to once again send the Demon away from him. He swore and Oath, and with all of his passion intend to see his end of the deal through.

That’s an awesome post.   And normally I’d let you achieve exactly what Giovanni is attempting.
But I hope you can forgive me for the storytelling hammer I’m about to use, especially this early in your story: but I’d like to let narrative take this somewhere a little different ... and see what happens.


The Brilliance that flared from within Giovanni certainly did drive his inner demon away.   It screamed and writhed in agony and anger, and as he looked at the wall behind him, Giovanni could see the monster kid shadow roiling away, burned and seeded by the power emanating from him.

 It the shadowshape wasn’t dissipated, as Giovanni might have expected.   Instead, flailing and frayed at its edges, it fled to the only safe haven available:  the shadow on the far side of the old man.
The bright emanating from Giovanni’s soul illuminated the interior of this dwelling: except for the spirit of the old man, which blocked the radiance, casting a stark contrast against the wall behind him.
And it was into this shadow that the demon fled.

And as Giovanni took this in, Ol’ Torvil rocked slight on his seat, and his eyes rolled backwards into his head.
Then, those same eyes washed with darkness and shadow, becoming pitch black. Black as the proverbial abyss; Black as uncreated night.
And a smile crept across his face.

“Well hello, young Giovanni.  At last, we meet”, a dark voice said from Ol’ Torvil’s mouth.
And it no longer seemed as disturbed by the light.

I'm more than fine with that, but since you'd like to go in a different narrative direction, could the Effort spent be refunded then?

As the light gradually receded and fell to the natural illumination of the candle and sunlight that came in from the windows Giovanni watched as his own shadow, twisted and wretched thing as it was seemingly fled into the old man's own shadow and filled him with that foul demented darkness that the Curse was presumably created from. Perhaps what disturbed him the most was how comfortable it seemed in Torvil's body causing a sense of dread failure gripping his heart at having failed to banish it and putting the old man at risk.

"So you can speak," Giovanni responded softly, his hand subconsciously moving to drift toward the sword at his belt as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Was the Old Man simply possessed? Or had it devoured his soul? Could he save him somehow? The Sunlight had failed him once already and he wasn't sure if he was strong enough or knew enough to make the right choice.

Yes, for sure, my friend.  Sorry, I meant to say that in my OOC text above: do keep the Effort.   You may need it!


“Of course I can speak, you simpering moron”, Ol’ Torvil said, with a condescending sneer upon his face , “My intellect goes vastly beyond what you could ever comprehend”.
It looked at Giovanni as though he was a bit of dogshit on its boot, then said, “But for now, I’m bound.
Bound into duty, and bound into your pathetic mortal bloodline.

But here’s the thing, I’m as pissed about it as you are.   So while I have this opportunity,” it said, looking down at Ol’ Torvil’s body with disgust, “Let me make this clear.   I want out.
I want out of this deal.  I want out of this world, and I especially want OUT OF YOU.
So find a way to do so.  You’ve got the power now.
You can’t hurt me; or unbind me from you.  But you have the power to find who did this to me, and make them UNdo it.
Right?!?    So fucking do it!”

Then, after a moments thought, it said, “And don’t think I’m doing you any favours.
This is not some gentleman’s agreement.  And I ain’t your friend.  Don’t think for one moment that I’m going to let up on you.
It’s not just the binding of duty that made me work against you.        It’s.  A.  Pleasure.
Besides.   If I go easy on you now, you might get to forgetting about what needs to be done.
Right?”

Anger simmered within him to hear the Demon speak to him as it did. It's true that he had never been educated in most matters, but he had learned to survive as best as he could given his lot in life, and while he wasn't the most intelligent person around he knew he was clever and possessed with good insight and wisdom. Still, he hated being looked down upon like so, it was was very likely the Demon was well aware of that too. Slowly and carefully, he kept his breathing calm and regulated, trying not to give into any weakness the Dark thing might perceive.

"I will do so, I only ask that you do not harm the man whose body you are possessing. You have typically been ruthless to those who come around me, either by twisting their mind or harming them in some manner, so I ask you, leave this one alone and I will be able to do as you say, It's not a favor if it's your recommendation. This man is the only lead I even have to figuring out who, unless you have some direction you wish to tease and torture me with," Giovanni responded through gritted teeth, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword still as his mind raced with ideas of possible actions he could take. He knew he didn't possess the means or ability to harm this foul tainted thing. And it would always prefer some method or manner of tormenting him in some fashion but this was the first time it had...manifested so blatantly so physically. It technically had a Body now...even if it wasn't it's own.

Within Giovanni a soft instinctual sensation began to creep up into him, his Burning Desire rolling through him, leaving imprints of ideas in his mind. He could learn something. Feeling those threads of Power within him, he reached out to them as subtle as possible, keeping his gaze locked into the inky black pools of oblivion that had consumed Old Torvil's eyes. The Demon had given him some information with it's grandstanding behavior. Someone had been responsible for this Curse. It wasn't a unlucky occurrence. Whomever it had been, they were connected to this Demon as much as he was. They were just as Important as the Demon itself. He reached for those Threads, his eyes piercing into The Demon's and willing the Power he felt to reveal to him what he wanted to learn.

Giovanni is attempting to use Follow the Threads Gift for the first time. Lesser Foes can't resist it, but I figure this Demon is certainly not a lesser Foe, so they get a Spirit save.

A thin, sadistic smirk crossed the face of The Curse as Giovanni mentioned how 'ruthless to those who come around {me}' it had been.   It was content and delighted to have brought such suffering to others, and to Giovanni by default.
Giovanni was left with no delusion of this creatures malicious, callous and malevolent nature ... and it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

But he could sense the being before him now in a way he'd never had the opportunity to in the past.
By possessing Ol' Torvill, The Curse had opened itself to Giovanni, also.   Taking the old man's body was, in some ways, a weakness.
A weakness that Giovanni could exploit.

In its unnatural, abyssal eyes, Giovanni could see truths that he could never have when the demon lay within him.  And he searched those eyes now ... seeking to draw out knowledge that the Demon didn't want him to have.
And The Curse resisted.  Giovanni could feel it: an active resistance that accompanied a sudden look of anger upon its face as it realised that it wasn't, entirely, in command of this situation as it thought it had been.

But, caught off guard, The Curse could not shut down Giovanni's sensings swiftly enough, and Giovanni saw those whom were most emotionally important to The Curse.

~ The roiling darkness within its eyes showed an even deeper roiling darkness ... the abyss from whence it had come.  And in that darkness was the god-like being that had created The Curse.  This entity was known to The Curse as Abbadon: a dark ruler of some unmade hell in the deepest pits of Unmade Night.  The Curse didn't perceive Abbadon with any loving emotion, but as a dark, cruel and harsh master that The Curse intrinsically sought to serve out of duty and fear more than devotion.   The Curse was made to serve, not just forced to serve.

~ Armond ... Giovanni's grandfather.  But as a young man.  When The Curse was bound to Armond, it was bound with the hatred and resentment that the summoner had for Armond.  It was as though the summoner had absolved themselves of such passions by forging those feelings into emotional chains, and using those to bind The Curse.   The summoner would likely no longer have held such feelings for Armond, instead transferring all that pain and anguish into The Curse ... forcing The Curse to take on the obligation and drive created by those passions.

~ Giovanni saw himself; as the sole encumberant of that binding.  Funnily enough, what he was was that The Curse had a passion to keep Giovanni alive.  For some reason, there was conflict within The Curse ... it wanted to be released from its bindings, but could not bare to think of Giovanni killed (yet delighted in the idea of his pain and torment).   Which was strange, because from what Giovanni knew, it was the cursed fortune of this being that caused the death of so many of his family.

~ The Summoner was a human woman named Viomenta de Carnash;  a sorceress in a land far, far from here.  Due to the emotions that she had taken from herself, and bound into The Curse to compel it, there was a very strong emotional connection between The Curse, and Viomenta.  It was as though part of her lived within him, in a sense.  Giovanni could see the woman now, standing before him in the eye of The Curse  ... a reanimation of that moment in which the binding took effect, and she invested her passions within it.

~ A demon that The Curse knew as Olviant; maybe some kind of sister spirit?  The emotions of a being such as The Curse were difficult and so very alien to anything Giovanni could comprehend.  But in some strange fashion, Olviant represented to The Curse the closest thing that Giovanni could sense as a positive connection.   Like The Curse itself, and Abbadon, it manifested visually in Giovanni's senses as a roiling form of unformed nothingness; yet, like the others, Giovanni felt that he might 'recognise' it if he ever encountered it.
And Giovanni sensed a dark, twisted sense of conflict within The Curse between its loyalty to Abbadon and to Olviant.

(... and that is all for you.   In know the Gift says 'hold-dozen', but you'll have to be happy with these, I regret.)
And then the sensing slammed shut, as The Curse forced himself to disassociate from Giovanni:  an iron-clad wall of will slamming down between them, preventing any further understanding on Giovanni's part.

And The Curse suddenly lurched backward, standing as it did so, and knocking over the chair it had been on.
And cruel and scared look upon its face.    "Fuck off, little man.  Get the Hell. OUT. OF. MY.   H E A D !"

The wave of information that flooded through Giovanni was unexpected and immense. Even as The Thing that held Torvil's body rocked and severed the flow of information violently, his own body rocked in sync with it as he stumbled a few steps backwards and instinctively withdrew his sword, in a feeble effort to protect himself should the thing try and attack him in some fashion. Even so, his mind was whirl with new information. Firstly, he hadn't known he could do that. It changed everything. Secondly, while he had known he had had a grandfather, he had never really known him or anything about him, having long been dead before Giovanni himself had been born.

Now he knew his name and what he had looked like in his prime, and if he was honest, that little shred of information did more for his Heart than anything else had for years. Perhaps though what was even more shocking was he had gotten the name of the One who had been responsible for the Curse, the who who had effectively murdered his entire family and left him an orphan and the joy his heart had felt before twisted and mutated into a holy rage. He had a name and face, which was more than he had ever possibly dreamed of getting before. If he was going to free himself of The Curse...they would be the one who could undo it. Then...

He didn't dwell on that thought for long. He wasn't able to. The more information his mind processed the more the scope of things began to grow. The Progenitor of this foul thing that was bound to Giovanni's very Soul. Abbadon. Whatever his relationship with the Curse was...that...abyssal presence was something on a completely different understanding. Was it watching? Did it even Care? It hurt his mind to even to try and comprehend such a thing. And following behind that was another Demon...another potential Foe, one that may seek Vengeance upon Giovanni if he were to not only unbind the Curse...but to Destroy it as he truly hoped.

Breathing in slowly and deeply, sword still raised defensively, Giovanni watched the Curse stare back at him having been fundamentally shaken to it's Core over the last few seconds. It made him feel Pride, he hadn't hurt it, but he had shaken it. He had done more to it than anyone else had...ever. He could subdue it and he could scare it. He was getting there.

"We both want this...situation to be fixed. And you are right...I have the Power. And I will do so, I have been doing so." he began to say, confidence filling his voice with assurance. "But as we have both seen, my power only grows," He added, leaving the unspoken threat hanging in the air. Despite the courage that was rising within him, Giovanni was still extremely aware of the monster's power, it would have no compunctions killing or maiming anyone to hurt Giovanni, or even outright killing him, despite how strangely it didn't want to, if Giovanni didn't try to placate it's ego, so he changed tactics. "However, You are still right, I can not begin to understand the depths of your power...So let me offer...a possible deal. I will not repeat what I have just done, if you return to me and focus your dark power solely on my person for the remainder of this binding. I mean that you will not harm or manipulate anyone else, and I will not venture into your mind and in so doing, we can keep to our natures without getting in the way of this...Quest." he offered, speaking very clearly, and making sure to stress the words.

"You get your Pleasure fed from solely my torments, and I still get to try and find a way to break this bond,"

“No deal”, The Curse sneered through a malicious sneering smirk.
“We both get to suffer this, till YOU fix it.   And I’m going to remind you,  Every.  Single. Day.  why you want to do that”.

It looked at Giovanni’s sword then, then tapped its/Torvil’s chest, “Go ahead.   It’ll put him out of his misery”.
“Or maybe you want me back inside you?” it leered, “Let the old bastard die in peace, eh!
No, I think I like it here.

Yeah, sure, it’ll be fun”, The Curse said, reaching out a hand, and holding it palm down just above the hot oven top, “Ooops, I wonder what that’ll feels like?”



Sure, I think Giovanni and The Curse will get along just fine ... this might even be the beginning of a beautiful friendship!
This message was last edited by the player at 03:22, Mon 16 Sept 2019.

Giovanni narrowed his eyes, staring at The Cursed Old Man as the Dark Presence within him toyed with his body. It was going to fight him every step of the way...Was it merely going to just act against him at every turn? He couldn't fathom why it would choose to do such a thing. But...even if he did strike, he'd only kill the innocent old man who had gotten caught up in all of this and the Demon, the Curse, it would likely simply disappear and then resume making his life miserable from the shadows. He had a plan though. He had a name too. He just needed to know where to go.

"It's not as though I can stop you otherwise," he began to say, moving to sheath his sword once more. "You are likely going to use his body to protect yourself from my Light and even if I did kill him, you'd wait until you could possess another innocent, leaving me no way to banish you for a moment's peace. Could you at least tell me where in the world I can find Viomenta de Carnash?" he asked, name dropping the woman he had seen from the Curse's mind. "You are likely the only one who knows where and how far they are. Will you tell me at least that?"

The silence between Giovanni and The Curse lengthened for a moment, as Giovanni waited for an answer to his question.
He could sense that The Curse was considering its answer, for there was some hesitation in its demeanour.
Eventually it said, “It was far from here.    I ... I don’t understand your world.  And I was immediately bound into a man, and his bloodline.  This didn’t give me much of a insight or perception beyond his immediate.

No, no I don’t”, it finally admitted.   But then, it continued.
“But I sense that the old man does”, it said.  “I’ll give him back to you, but know this, little man, that you end this”, pointing to Giovanni and himself (taking his hand away from the fire to do so), “or I’ll show exactly how nasty I really can be”.

And darkness seemed to seep from the old man, then, oozing to the ground, and flowing towards Giovanni’s shadow.

The massive sigh of relief that escaped from Giovanni's chest was immense, as though an impossible pressure on his chest had been lifted. He was glad that he had somehow managed to spare the old man's life? Soul? Either-way, the Curse relented it's grasp on Torvil and bled it's way back into his own shadow, bringing with it that certain foreboding awareness back into his subconscious. Just as quickly, Giovanni rushed to the Old Man's side to catch him just in case The Curse's withdrawal left him even weaker than before.

"Torvil sir, are you okay?" he asked immediately doing his best to offer any assistance he could if it was needed. "I am sorry about what just occurred. I have no way of explaining it other than my Blessing did not deter it this time, and it sought to take control of your body to talk with me, or rather torment me and make demands with little understanding of my own nature. But, I did learn a great deal of things from this all the same. Can I get you anything? Water? I still have some things I must ask even more so than before, but I want to make sure you are okay."

It was several minutes later, that Giovanni and Torvil sat together outside: in the open air, and sunshine.
Torvil seemed to feel more comfortable out there, for some reason.  And he smoked a cigerette of his own making while the two each held a battered old tin mug of filtered water.

“Never wanna do that again,” he admitted to Giovanni, with a forced smile.   His face was still tight and slightly pale from the experience, “No sirree”.

It had been ‘an experience’ for the old man, but held prisoner with the darkness, he’d had the opportunity to gaze back into that Abyss further than he might have from the outside.
“This Curse was brought in to this world through an arcane technique that I am only peripherally familiar with”, he was explaining, “... researched and used primarily by the Black Acadamies in Raktine.
It’s a form of hybridisation: in which the summoner binds something from outside this world to this one with a part of their down soul.  This creates an anchor of sorts.   Not just gives the demon the ability and power to remain, but forces it to remain.   Binds it.

The only way, as I remember to undo this binding, is to return to the sorcerer that part of her soul”.

He looked at Giovanni a moment, as though weighing up how to tell the young man the last bit, “Strangely enough, that part of the sorcerer’s soul was ... her love”.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:58, Thu 26 Sept 2019.

Giovanni was far more relaxed as the rays of natural sunlight fell over him. Though he was in truth still concerned for the old man's health. He gave Torvill a strained smile of his own and nodded with silent agreement over the events that had happened minutes ago. Still, he listened as carefully and diligently as he could. From what he had learned from the Demon itself, he figured it's binding had been something like that conceptually, even if he hadn't know the specifics, what surprised him however was it's origins. He had another clue to work off of. The Black Academies of Raktine.

When Ol' Torvill mentioned how the binding could be undone...he nodded his head slowly, he had figured something to that effect as well. However, it was the next part that struck him the hardest. The Sorceress' love? He couldn't fathom Love being used for such a horrific and terrible means. Someone like himself, who barely knew what it meant to be loved, even he knew that Love was holy and powerful. It have it twisted and perverted like that was...unspeakable. Not to mention the ramifications of what that meant regarding the relationship between this sorceress and his grandfather.


"So, The Curse originates from the Black Academies, but the part of it that holds it to me, and thus this world is from the Sorceress herself." he said softly. "I don't suppose you'd recognize the name Viomenta de Carnash would you? It's a name I managed to pull from the Demon while it was holding your body and it's the one that should belong to said Sorceress."