A being lurching out of the shadows was likely not new territory for Lucian. This one, however, seemed far too happy to see him. Tahm Kench himself, grinning whisker to whisker, lumbered forth from a darkened hallway. His stance was relaxed, almost jovial, as if he'd run into an old friend. "Well, well, well" the titanic creature spoke, in a voice deep yet mirthful, "If it ain't our own favorite slayer of the already slain." Fully in view now, Tahm Kench towered over the man.
The gunslinger acknowledged Tahm’s approach with a stare and a raise of one eyebrow, but not with much more concern than that. Lucian was more than used to monsters at this point, undead and otherwise; more to the point, he was mostly oblivious to Tahm’s sinister reputation. He only interacted with his fellow champions when approached, and he spent most of his free time otherwise locked in his room, obsessively researching exorcism and combat. That didn’t leave him a lot of opportunity to gossip.
But he’d been a different man, once, a man who studied the occult and supernatural out of an interest besides burning hatred; Tahm’s name and illustrated visage had popped up now and again, slinking in the shadows of forgotten folktales and archaic books. Vague recognition burned in the back of Lucian’s mind, but little more.
“Seems I’ve got a reputation,” Lucian responded, tilting his head to look at the grotesque catfish creature’s face. He wasn’t terribly fazed by how much larger Tahm was than him; the League was full of towering people and monsters, and his own height was average at best. “If I’m not mistaken, so do you.”
Tahm Kench appreciated a well-mannered man, especially one so burning with desire. He nods, an act that shook the creature’s whole form owing to his lack of any real neck. “Yes indeed, not a child in Valoran hasn’t heard of Lucian, the solitary torch let against that which goes bump in the night.” Obviously an overstatement, but buttering someone up literally or figuratively was a good a way as any into their souls. “I did approach you with a bit of a quandary. Somethin’ very much within your purview and somethin’ creepin’ into mine. You wouldn’t happen to have caught sight of a certain specter, bout this tall, all riddled with spears? She goes by Kalista, or so I’m told, and she has been offerin’ some pretty bad deals round these parts.” Kallista had been a thorn in Tahm’s side these few months. Appealing to those hot headed vengeful types, she had snatched many a meal from his maw. Perhaps this shining paragon of justice could be persuaded to put her down?
“Is that so.” Lucian felt dully amused by Tahm’s clear attempt at flattery, though he remained as impassive as ever. While he didn’t remember the details about Tahm, he remembered enough to know not to trust him; besides, the first thing you learn when you fight wily spirits for a living is to not trust any tongue, no matter how honeyed. Now, more than ever before, keeping that in mind was absolutely vital.
“Kalista?” Lucian was well aware of her; he had been for much longer than she’d been in the League, in fact. “The spirit of vengeance herself is here, huh? Imagine that. Back in the day, we had a half a mind to hunt her down, but she’s not easy to catch. Has a habit of only showing up when there’s a soul to be gained, and she’s too smart to be falsely baited.” He pauses, frowning just a bit; while the prospect of cleansing such a persistent and powerful spirit from the world was tempting, the image of a skull came into his mind, laughing, lantern swinging back and forth...
“I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. ...No offense.”
