“Just because they aren’t Templars doesn’t mean they don’t know how to read the phylactery’s responses. It’s blood magic, so a blood mage could have easily done this as well,” Rose curled her fingertips around the phylactery and came to a stand. “I agree. We must destroy it, but I need to find the mage that it’s seeking. I need to make sure they’re alright.”
Rose looked over at the stranger. “I apologize, you don’t look like a mage, but the phylactery is glowing awfully bright, like a beacon, see?” She looked down at her hand. “If you aren’t a mage, then that means that the mage that this is intended for is around nearby, close, in fact. Perhaps I could give them assistance just like I gave you.”
Rose had a sinking feeling that the stranger before her was an apostate. It was not her first time dealing with apostates. She would never be able to understand the fear of being hunted for who they were and hated for the magic that ran through their veins. Her steel blue eyes looked over to him.
“If we are to destroy it then we will need a fire and a few other items. I have them at Vigil’s Keep, which isn’t too far from here, as a matter of fact.” Rose gave him a soft smile. “Well, you wanted me out of your hair, and I’ve got to admit, this is one way to do it. I’d linger longer but as you said, we have to destroy it.”
Rose turned on her heels and started to move back towards her items on the ground. “Are you sure you don’t wish to join? I still don’t think you’ll be able to stitch your wound up on your own.”
“I doubt any mage that’s being hunted down is going to be amicable,” Armitage offered flatly-- seafoam hues unable to tear away from the crimson light that seeped out of the phylactery. Worry gnawed at the man’s bones over the idea that there may be more of those where that one had come from. He had no real way of telling, either. Which wasn’t a comforting thought, “Especially considering how people tend to treat mages around here.”
Eyes finally tear away from the light, seeking out the remaining body that had yet to be searched. Armitage hesitated momentarily, considering the pros and cons of searching that one over personally. If what Rose had said was true, and he was in fact carrying even the vaguest of information then it’d be beneficial for Armitage to see it. Seafoam hues flicker back to Rose, then glance towards her Mabari before Armitage tentatively tucked his remaining blade away and slinked forward to shift through the man’s possessions.
“Though if the brightness is an indicator of the mage being nearby,” Armitage continued, voice even as he made sure to keep the pair within his peripheral sights, “then it’s likely they’re now aware of the situation at hand. It’s probably better you just destroy the object if you intend to do it. Otherwise you may well be painting a target on your back.”
There was a handful of coins which Armitage was all too happy to pocket for himself, and after a bit of searching he’d finally found what Rose had mentioned-- paper which he tugged free and skimmed over with keen eyes. He’d only seen the price placed on his head long ago, when he was younger. It’d grown, since then and while ‘dead or alive’ was still an option, the difference for alive seemed to be less extreme than before. Fantastic.
It made sense, though. After so long, whatever it was his Father may have sought him out for was bound to change. His Mother never really gave him a clear answer when he’d asked her why he was intent on hunting them down.
Seafoam hues flick over towards Rose, before the paper is smoothly folded and pocketed with the coin, “Definitely a mage,” He offered, not willing to give too much or let her see the price placed on his head. At the idea of going with her he nearly winced. On one hand, he figured it’d better to keep moving and get as much distance between himself and this location as possible. On the other...
Eyes land on the phylactery once again, and Armitage’s teeth sink into his cheek. He couldn’t risk that getting into anyone’s hands. Especially if he were lucky enough to have it be the only one that existed. But it could still be a trap.
“I can handle my wound just fine,” he insisted, before standing up and casting a glance around them-- though it was for any other mercenaries than for what came next, “Though if there’s a chance the mage may panic and attack you for that thing, it may be best I accompany you at least until it’s properly destroyed and no longer poses a threat.”
