westfallcorndog | Legion (of Houseguests) for Naugus

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naugus

Legion (of Houseguests) for Naugus

Ixis Naugus, someone is knocking at your castle door. Could it possibly be anyone but the small handful of people who dare to visit? Not this time. Predictably, it's just Harrowheart. Well, not just Harrowheart. He's all done up in his explicitly evil set of blue armor – the one with the skulls and the spikes and the flowing red cape – and covered in wounds and dappled with some kind of green, slime-like residue... And it seems he's being trailed by a small mob of Overlanders. Is this an anti-monster peasant riot? The people certainly look like peasants, half-clothed and tired and wounded. One of them has a gun, a few have shovels and pitch forks. They're following him slowly, advancing after him yet keeping a safe distance.

"Naugus!" he hollers in his deep, worgen voice. He looks up to the windows in hopes he might catch sight of the archmage looking down.

"Naugus, I need your help! Please!"

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Naugus' unexpected question flattens Harrow's ears, not out of anger but of worry and desperation. Why are they here? To anyone else a reply like this from Naugus must be expected, yet it still catches Harrowheart off guard. Naive child...

"Naugus," he implores quietly before glancing back. He inches slightly closer to the door and lowers his snout to be on the mage's level. "They are in danger. They've got nowhere to go. Our home was destroyed by demons. Our whole country's on fire. The whole world, maybe, I–Idunno. The sky's black and green as far as anyone can see. There's no goin' back to Azeroth for them. Not now, maybe not ever. They –"

No. He closes his eyes and tilts his head. "I need your help. They got no place to go. I got no place for my own folks to sleep, Naugus. I can't even provide for my family. I never knew I'd have to or I woulda prepared, but... I'd do anything – I mean it – if you'd just let 'em stay here... E-even one night..."

From a distance his family watches as he negotiates with a crack in the door. One tall and gangly string bean of a woman notices the movement of the chao and points them out. The collective reaction of the humans is to knit together into a tighter crowd and shuffle as one slightly away. Cuteness is irrelevant, those things could be as dangerous as anything else on Azeroth.

A few of the braver chao have opted to start waddling towards the strangers, cooing and burbling, question marks floating above their heads. Who are these people? Do they have toys?

Naugus squints at Harrow, not visibly moved by the pleading, nor the dire situation his family has found themselves in. All he's hearing is he's being expected to harbour strange Overlanders in his tower? A whole gaggle of them?

"Aren't there lodgings for this sort of situation in the more urban areas of the Nexus? Motels, apartments, so on. Don't tell me you're destitute as well now." Or have always been? Harrow doesn't seem like the type to have a terribly full coinpurse at any point in time, now that the mage dwells on it.

Mental calculations are going on now as that red eye slips back to the huddled gathering of scared humans. Harrowheart brought them to him, either because he trusts him to fix matters out of fondness or out of respect of his power. One's a little misled, in his opinion, but the other does wonders for his ego. Either way, they both come to the same conclusion, though; that Harrowheart feels he can rely on him. And Harrowheart will be in his debt.

"We'll discuss the details when things are settled," Ixis Naugus concludes, voice still low but only because the death knight should hear that part. Then the door closes. Long enough that the worgen might panic he's been shut out. But it splinters again soon, the cracks in a starburst formation, spreading fully so the mobian can step fully out from his tower. Staff in hand, cape flowing behind him.

"I see you've brought your refugee family to me, knowing full well the power I have to make things right!" he begins, his voice booming and theatrical. He's smiling now, though all those glittering teeth might not be comforting to see. "Well, how can I turn away such people in their darkest hour! Come, come, no need to be shy. I, Ixis Naugus, will ensure that you remain safe from now on."

Harrow's eyes dart around with every word that Naugus says when the topic is on such things as affording inns and apartments. He's already racking his brain to counter as soon as it's said, but luckily he doesn't have to defend himself or his (previously) carefree pennilessness. Those little whispered words, the promise of discussions to come, are just loud enough to prick up his eager worgen ears and keep him quiet.

When the door closes on him, though he has every reason to worry, he doesn't. Naugus wouldn't have said that if he didn't mean to come back, he's certain. His family, though... They've backed themselves farther and farther from the chao and turned their weapons and tools to the blunt ends to meekly keep the innocent little creatures at bay. Harrow catches sight of this and huffs worriedly. He rushes towards his family, which really spooks them. The man with the rifle starts to flip it around to point at this terrible worgen beast barreling toward them, but Harrow grabs the end of the gun and points it toward the ground.

Silently he pushes everyone's weapons down, down, until all the humans are thoroughly calmed. He demonstrates how friendly the chao are by delicately patting one on the head. He even goes so far as to give it a fangy kiss with his black, rubbery dog lips. Mwah~

It's enough of an endorsement for some of his family to follow his lead. The tall girl who noticed them bends down to offer her hand for a chao to inspect, and two relatively thin boys who look very much alike do the same. A dark-skinned little girl – the only child with them – tries to pet the wings of one of the chao.

Oh, but nothing good can last. Naugus appears with great fanfare and EVERYONE HAS THEIR WEAPONS UP AGAIN! Until, of course, they see who it is that's shouting in a raspy, wicked voice they don't yet recognize. They fluctuate between lowering and raising their weapons as they listen to his speech. He's not human, and that's scary... But he's their son's friend, and that's good! But he's a mage, and that's scary... But he's giving them lodging, and that's good! And with such kindness and sincerity. Oh, Mister Naugus, you friendly... whatever-you-are...

When he's finally quiet all of them incline their heads respectfully, except for the young little girl who stares with wide eyes and... Is that the hint of a grin on her lips? She looks way too eager about something, that's for sure.

Harrow suggests in a baritone whisper, "Why don't you all line up and greet him, huh? And let's all put our weapons down. Show of good faith, huh?" It's a simple suggestion and one they're all more than willing to comply with. All except for that terrible man with the rifle, who purposefully situates himself last in line so that he might keep from dropping his weapon until the final moment.

The chao who is given a smooch giggles, childlike, and its bead morphs into a heart with an audible 'pok'. The others who are approached and offered hands go at different paces, some cautious and some eager, but all ultimately trusting. The one getting its wings pet sighs happily and shuts its eyes, liking the attention and showing as much with another floating heart.

Though a lot of them startle with Naugus' arrival and the family bristling once more. One starts crying and runs back to the garden. It also trips along the way and just lays flat on its face for a time, bead transformed into an upset swirl. Naugus pays this no mind, instead focused on the family's reception of his appearance, his announcement and everything in between.

"I am happy to receive all of you! No need to be shy now!" He's very aware still of the one with the metal arm and the gun. No trusting that one.

The tallest girl watches as the particular chao faceplants and claps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Don't laugh at that! Actually, it gets less funny the more the little thing lays flat. Is it?... It's not... Well, no time to consider it, the line is being moved along. Get ready to greet your new Overlander army, Naugus.

The first man up must be the father of the family. His face is covered in a short, well-kept beard, greying from its previous blond, as is the parted hair on his head. He's built strong despite being at least in his late fifties, but his stomach has a slight paunch. All of the family members have sun-tanned skin, but his is darker than some and worn from years at work in the fields. His eyes are thin and soft and full of the gratefulness his tired smile poorly conveys. He takes Naugus' hand in both of his and lowers his head in respect. In a small, whispery voice that hardly fits his height he says, "It's an honor to be hosted by someone like yourself, Archmage Naugus. My name is Hardtman Weatherhill, and for as long as we stay here, if you ever need anything? I'm here to help."

Everyone who heard him – which is to say, everyone, including the NRA goon in the back – nods in agreement.

He's following in short order by his wife, who... Isn't wearing shoes? Light, none of them are, actually. They're shoeless, clothed in sleeping attire, and most of them are bleeding from the feet. Her hands are covered in dust, which she tries to wipe on her once-white nightgown now splattered with mysterious green residue and drops of dried blood. She's a short woman compared to the others, though still barely taller than Naugus. Age has rounded her, and like her husband her skin is weathered. Her short hair is fully grey and frames her round face. "A pleasure, Archmage. I only wish we were meeting on better circumstances" she says with a humble and self-conscious little laugh.

Next comes a daughter who resembles her mother much more than her brothers or father: Average height, padded with a little extra weight, yet still strong from outdoors work. Her skin is blotched with freckles, her blonde hair is in messy strands all around her face and shoulders. She comes holding hands with one of the only humans in the bunch who isn't white-skinned. Her partner is tall and darkly tan-skinned with curling hair, a strong nose, and determined eyes. Of all the people in the group she seems the least fazed by an unexpected demon invasion. The two girls let each other go long enough to each offer Naugus a shake. "Robin," says the blonde one. "And this is my wife, Estella." Estella dryly corrects, "We're not married, but."

There is no but. They follow the parents and allow room for the next family members. This line never ends.

A pair of thinly-built brothers with plain, forgettable faces step up next. They look very much like twins, and each appear about the same age as Harrowheart. Each of them introduces themselves as "Matthew" and "Michael," and with respectful nods they're on their way. They both have promising futures of being confused for each other.

The monstrous string-bean girl with an easy half a foot in height on Naugus is next. She's incredibly mousy, average in every way except for her size and her astounding lack of any feminine curves. There's something familiar about her and her buck teeth, isn't there? "Anna," she says, smiling awkwardly. "We met before, when my brother and I were turned into children," she explains. "I'm really sorry for all the... Everything. Everything we did. I'm sorry. I'm looking forward to making it up." Then she leans in and whispers, "And finding out what you did with that weed."

After her comes a very dark-skinned man with a broad nose, strong cheekbones, and a soft jaw. He's helping along his incredibly pregnant wife, easily the most good-looking of these horse-faced Overlanders, though maybe not while she's so sweaty and covered in imp claw marks. She doesn't offer a shake, but continues to lean on her husband and only smiles through grit teeth at Naugus. Her husband invites himself to say, "I'm Jacob, this is Heather. Our daughter Kendra is..." He glances up, squints, and sees her off a few yards trying to coax a chao back to her. "Around. But I promise she's quiet. She won't be a bother at all, Sir."

And then the last and final shithead. The recalcitrant oyster with the gun. He gives up his weapon to Harrowheart with some reluctance only when he absolutely must. And Light, what a strange resemblance he has to Harrowheart('s Mobian form.) Granted, he's got half the hairline and about ten years of apparent alcoholism on Harrow, but in another life they might have passed for twins. A pair of thick-rimmed, square glasses sit over his tired and suspicious eyes. He offers up a shake of his right hand – the mechanical one – and says no words.

Robin comes to Naugus' aid. "Lawrence," she hisses through grit teeth. "Show some respect to our host!"

He only grunts.

Naugus receives each one graciously, shaking hands when offered. Though he pauses and his ears perk upward when first addressed as Archmage? He looks at Harrowheart in a brief moment of possible explanation, but then shakes it off before receiving any input or a meaningful look back. Nevermind, it must be some term of high ranking wizards back in his world. He'll take it in the spirit intended.

The woman leaning on the man with a massive, pregnant belly gets him to pause though, his lip curled in confusion. "She's not about to drop a pup here and now, is she? She looks it."

And then here's Lawrence. Lawrence. This one gets an especially pointy smile, and regardless of the mismatch, he shakes that metal hand with his crab claw. Which ends up more of a grasp of the wrist than anything else. "Charmed. I'm sure we'll get along famously, Lawrence." The claw closes a little tighter before it releases. He didn't blink once while meeting the surly man's eyes.

"Now! What is the most pressing situation at hand? Drink? Food? Medical attention? A place to rest? Whatever is needed shall be attended to! Simply let me know what is required and I will make it so!"

Robin coughs on her own spit and Estella scrambles to keep her quiet when Naugus says what he says about Heather's pregnancy. The two of them slap at each other until they're both totally calmed, all while Jacob stares in embarrassment in all directions. At least Heather takes it in good spirits with a weak (though sincere) laugh.

"Water," one of them says, which starts a storm of murmuring and head bobbing. Water would be fantastic. It's really all they want. Harrow has to be the mindful one who asks for bandages and salve, but on second thought offers to follow 'archmage' Naugus to get these reagents. A moment alone between the two of them to discuss matters might be prudent, after all.

"Ah, then just a moment." Perhaps because it's easiest, perhaps to also show off, Naugus waves his staff and conjures 11 shards of floating, green crystal. And one by one, they are shaped into cups. But the show's not over yet! A gesture of his hand and each one is soon full of water! Simple matter of converting air into water, of course. "There you are! Fear not, come over and take one for yourself." He patiently keeps them hovering in the air until they're retrieved. Lawrence's might drop a little to fake him out but ultimately stays aloft until taken. Just a slosh and a small dodge of the hand, that's all! It's a joke, haha!

"And as far as medical supplies, I keep some in the tower! Come along, Harrowheart." Follow like a good minion. "We'll fetch these effects together." Once back inside the tower, Naugus leads to a closet of sorts off the kitchen. On the shelves are indeed rolls of linen, poultices and little tubs of salves. He expects the worgen to do the gathering, Ixis Naugus instead leaning on the jamb of the doorway, arms crossed.

"This won't be for free, of course. Maybe for them, but not for you."

Ooh! Ahh! What a show! How the Overlanders clap, how they smile! It's such a welcome relief after everything they've seen, everything they've been through. And it all culminates in water! They're eager to grab it, though most of them are mindful not to look too much like clawing, desperate animals. Lawrence makes a point of drinking his water in total silence after being teased with it. He doesn't find it funny at all, certainly not, but he's too thirsty to put up a fight. Sheesh, you can't even get a good laugh at the expense of a paranoid refugee these days...

Harrow, of course, follows close behind Naugus. He doesn't have to be told to gather up the things he asked for but does it on his own as soon as the opportunity is presented to him. His ears flatten with what Naugus says, but he continues his picking and stacking regardless.

"I know," he says, at once trying to remain humble and still impress upon Naugus how completely he understands. "I know, and I don't care. I don't know where else I can go for help like this for this many people when all I can pay with is my word. Like I said, whatever you need from me."

Ah, but then his ears swivel forward and he turns his attention to Naugus rather than the closet. "Only thing I won't do is kill my family and one or two particular other folks. Anything else... I'm not above any of it." He clears his throat and raises his eyebrows. "You got somethin' in mind already? You look like it..."

"Faith, Harrowheart!" He looks offended, hand splayed on his chest like a scandalized school marm. "I would never ask that you harm your loved ones! Maybe do something about the robotic arm the one fellow has, but that's not harming. Metal doesn't feel." Is he...kidding?

"But that's all I ask right now, really. Faithfulness. Do as I ask and don't give me reason to question your ability to follow orders. It's been some time since I had a right hand man, after all. Someone to carry out orders and a blade. Someone to listen for things where I am not or cannot be. Someone who can keep secrets. Maybe the occasional call for companionship if you're doing well. Sound like something applicable to a man of your talents?" He already knows it is, but he'd like to hear it from the wolf's mouth.

Harrow huffs a laugh, both genuinely amused and faintly worried about the jokes at Lawrence's arm's expense. "If you wanna get on Lawrence's nerves, getting rid of his robot arm is only gonna make him like you more. He hates that thing. Hates bein' a 'machine man.'" He laughs a deep, doggy laugh and finds that it's much easier to listen to Naugus' following words after.

Faithfulness. Right hand man. Orders and a blade... He's nodding, his ears are bobbing. All more than agreeable things.

"Sounds perfect, Ixis. Sounds like... Bein' what I'm meant to be."

Edited 2016-09-16 02:44 (UTC)

Naugus sniffs. "Well, maybe Lawrence has sense yet. There's a whole host of options before having to resort to robotics. Craven, classless."

He smiles at Harrowheart's expected agreeableness. "Then we forge a contract. Here and now, and so long as you remain well in my service, your family shall not suffer under my watch or by my hand." He extends his hand, much like he'd done with greeting the family. But now his smile is less cordial and more predatory.

"And when they leave your land for good, I'm out. Unless this turns out to be a good gig. Who knows, I might stick around."

How convenient is it that he doesn't have to empty his arms of the supplies they're full of in order to bind himself to the service of a dark wizard. One of his floating handpaws grasps Naugus' hand with speed and confidence, and he gives it a sure shake. The deal is on.

Naugus nearly snatches his hand back when the escape clause is added, but there's no escaping floating paws. For that, it gets a particularly hard grip and he makes no attempt to be swift or hide the binding that takes place. The room actually darkens a few degrees and there's a tangible ZAP that shoots between their palms and somehow manages to race up Harrow's arm even with the separated wrist. Though this is nothing compared to the way Ixis Naugus' eyes light up. A malevolent and baleful red that crackles and wavers over his bared teeth.

And then, just like that, it's all gone. The mage gives Harrowheart a pat on the back. "Let's go see how your family is faring then, eh?"

That shock, that strange sensation of magic that travels less through his body and more through the spells that keep him animated? He's never felt anything like that before. His mouth and eyes open wide in surprise and he regains his senses just in time to catch the last crackles of Naugus' wicked eyes.

Hey, maybe that was a bad deal he just made!

Or maybe it doesn't matter. He's made worse choices, he's sure. And really, what's the worst that could happen? Could it be worse than anything he's already done in his unlife? It's only Naugus, after all, and this is the Nexus. Dubious though his morality may be, this is a safe enough place.

He's lost in thought when Naugus pats him and brings him back to his senses. He laughs uncomfortably and nods his head. His family is waiting, and they're the reason he agreed to this, after all.

Back with the family, everyone has long-ago finished their water. They sit in near-total silence, still worried from their experiences. Lawrence watches the direction his brother and the caster went and is the first to notice their arrival. He's quick on his feet and ready to take and distribute supplies.

With his arms unburdened he reverts to his human form in one quick, magical motion. The sight of the transformation somehow makes these skittish people more uneasy. It's just their son and brother, though. Isn't it? Just their dead family member tying his severed hands back to his wrists. Who would be unnerved by that.

"We can fix ourselves up, Naugus," he says, some lingering uncertainty in his voice. "If you wanna get some blankets or some cots ready? If... You got anything like that?"

Ixis Naugus, ever the gracious host, waves a hand and the crystal cups are once more refilled with water. Just in case anyone needs a second round of hydration. When Harrowheart transforms, the mage looks back and forth between the death knight and his uncomfortable family.

"I assume all the rest of you are part-time Mobians? I'm shocked still that your society appears intolerant of such a thing. Then again, maybe I can." You know how Overlanders are.

At the mention of cots and blankets, Naugus rasps a laugh. "I suppose your family isn't a fan of stone beds either. Perhaps a hurried trip to the Nexus shops is in order? Easily and swiftly done for someone who can become airborne with less than a thought, of course!" Before anyone can argue or wonder about that plan of action, a swirl of wind is gathered underneath the wizard, his cape snapping outright into the shape of dark bat wings. And WHOOSH, he's off, headed for the commercial area of the Nexus, intent on finding some bedding appropriate for people who don't appreciate absurdly firm sleeping surfaces.

Mrs. Harrow's Mom parts her lips to say something to the 'part-time Mobians' comment, but Ixis quickly goes back to running his mouth and then he fucks off into the air on his cape. She rests her head in her hand and spends a second looking disappointed before she takes a sip of her water.

Harrow joins his family sitting there on the ground. "Mobian means animal-person to him," he clarifies.

Some nod solemnly, others choose not to react. Anna focuses hard on her water, while Lawrence squints suspiciously at Harrowheart.

"We still love you," his mother insists quietly in the same instant that Lawrence says, "We hate you now." Mrs. Weatherhill stares in shock at her rude son, but the longer Lawrence stares at Harrow the more the two men start to smile. Harrow reaches out for a one-armed hug and gets a metal hand around his shoulder in return. The two share a quick and easy laugh even as the rest of the family shifts uncomfortably, unsure of how they really ought to feel.

As Lawrence side-eyes his brother with a familiar, very Harrow-like grin, he says, "You coulda told us, you know?"

Harrow smiles sadly and shakes his head. "Guess I figured some stuff is better kept secret, huh? We'll talk about it later," he assures everyone. "Just rest up a while, wait for Ixis Naugus to get back."

Silence briefly passes as people rub their wounded feet and drink their conjured water until Jacob looks up from his cup. "He's a weird one, ain't he?"

Harrow closes his eyes, resigned, and slowly nods.

Everyone else follows suit.

Verdict reached.

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Legion (of Houseguests) for Naugus

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