It was a pleasant enough evening that the young shifter didn't mind spending the night outdoors.  The orcish alchemist he was working for had warned him that there were dark things lurking in the woods ,  but the herbs that he need could only be found at dawn.  Which was why he had hired Valth to look for the delicate flowers.  He didn't have the same knowledge of alchemy as his mother, but he knew how to harvest things without harming them.  The thought of his mother made him worry.  She had come back after a rather long absence with an almost unbelievable story, but Valth knew she speaking the truth.  Moliira had never lied to him or his bother.  But there was something she was hiding, and he couldn't figure out what that was.

Staring into the woods, he knew he would have to sleep soon.  Only a short nap, so he could be awake in the predawn.  Hadad had not returned yet, but the wolf always did things on his own terms.  And it was likely that he would return with some meat they could both share.  He lay on his back, staring up the stars.  He knew his mother had gone beyond them, and Valth wished he could have traveled with her.  But he also knew Moliira would have forbidden it.  So he could only muse about the stories she had told he and his brother. 

There was a snap, and Valth turned his head, assuming that his wolf companion had returned.  But it was a man in tattered robes, staring at the young drow.  They stared at each other for a heartbeat, then Valth rolled onto his side to unsling his bow.  But the man was faster, and a nasty burst of greenish-purple light hit him square in the chest.  The world seemed to slow down as Valth watched the man approaching, a knife in hand.  There was a wicked grin on his face, and he was muttering to himself.  "Quite the sacrifice you'll make.  And drow-blooded to boot!  Even better.  What magic rests in your bones?  I suppose we'll find out when I raise you," he said.  A necromancer.  Valth closed his eyes, praying to whatever god might be listening. 

In all his life Lokir has never been to this island before, he had known about it and the orcish islanders, but had never had a reason to go there. Now he did, he was going to start some talks with the artisans that resided on the island. They didn't need his protection, hardly, they hadn't been attacked in generations, but he still wanted to meet with their leaders and speak to them all the same. Let them know that he was available to help if needed, if something threatened them and it was beyond them alone. Not only that, but while Lokir's Fort had smiths of its own for weapons and arms, having these orcs as backups wouldn't hurt, more allies were always better.

Of course, all the immortality didn't stop him from getting lost on his way to the village he was expected at. He was supposed to be there before night fall, and night was falling and he hadn't found the place. ”Hm, no needs to know of this, I'll just make up an excuse.” Lokir mused to himself as he walked along, he wore no armour and no weapons, he didn't need either at the moment. He was going in for a peaceful talk, and as a sign of such he would take no weapons with him, and, as a sign of trust towards his hosts wore no armour to show he trusted them to not attack. Of course, they knew who and what he was ahead of time, but the gesture was there all the same and he hoped that, once he arrived, they would appreciate it.

A shiver ran down his spine, however, and the Tetrarch stopped in his tracks and took in a long inhale of the air. Something wasn't right, the air smelled foul somehow, he turned and headed deeper into the woods, following his senses. He stalked carefully through the woods until he came across a scene ahead that made him frown.

A man on the ground with another standing over him holding a knife, the foul sense was coming heavily off of the knife wielding man. Lokir scented the magic in the air; necromancy. He hadn't been that versed in magic before ascending, he had his limited ability to create weapons but that was all. Since rising he had had his Fort mages show him how to identify different kinds of magic but how they went and, to him, how they smelled.

Lokir pushed down the aura that would give him away as a God and walked forward towards the necromancer. He wasn't quiet now as he growled. ”Why don't you try your tricks on me?” Lokir growled deeply, exposing the fact that he wasn't as human as he looked. ”I bet a werebear would make for some interesting raising, or whatever it is you do.” Lokir taunted, playing the necromancer's ego, as they more often than not had, as Lokir was also empty handed and was hiding his powers as well.

He glanced to the man on the ground for a moment, he seemed fine at the moment. Looking back to the necromancer Lokir grinned and waited to see what he would do, either way, there was no way he'd be faster at stabbing the downed man than Lokir was at stopping him.

The magic had paralyzed him.  Valth found himself unable to move, even as he willed himself to get away as the necromancer advanced on him.  He knew a little of their ilk, knew that not all of them were evil.  But this one was definitely evil.  Then a stranger intervened, and Valth wished he could breath a sigh of relief.  From his words, the man was there by chance, and didn't mind helping.  But the necromancer only grinned at the interloper, and spoke in a low hiss.  "You think yourself a savior, don't you?  Well, we shall see about that!" he spoke quickly, then thrust a hand on Valth's chest and dug his fingers in.  Valth was able to draw just enough breathe to scream in pain as the necromancer drew out his life.

He was left gasping shallowly, but the paralysis was gone at least.  Valth managed to roll onto his side, but his strength was gone.  Even his sight had dimmed, something he had realized possible.  His heart was thundering in his chest, and the young halfbreed had no idea what was happening to him.  Was he dying?  Gods, his mother would never forgive him.  Dim green eyes stared at the stranger, begging for a quick end to the necromancer, and aid for himself.  The words wouldn't leave his mouth, and Valth found his body relaxing despite trying to force himself to stay conscious.

”We shall see indeed.” Lokir replied as the necromancer stole the strength from the young man before he could stop him. The young man screamed in pain as it happened and Lokir flinched at the sound, but glared the necromancer. This would end badly for him!

Powered by the young man's strength the necromancer turned his attention to Lokir next and the werebear snarled. The evil mage laughed as he created an orb of black magic and flung it at Lokir. Lokir snarled again and stepped into the orb and it exploded when it hit him, but he stepped through the explosion unharmed. ”Pathectic.” Lokir growled, his voice becoming less human with each growl and snarl.

The necromancer blinked, that was new! He started to ready another spell.

In that time Lokir's own God powers were at work, and they were seeking over to the young man the ground. Lokir was able to impart some of his Strength to others and the young man was looking rather weak at the moment, so hopefully that added strength would help him get going again. On top of that, Lokir added in a little something to help ignite some extra Courage in Valth as well, what he did with any of this, of course, was up to him. Lokir was only able to help bring someone close to the edge of doing something courageous, it was up to them to take that final step.

The necromancer had his spell ready and unleashed it, a wave of dark energy rocketed out towards Lokir. The bear God roared and charged through it, coming out near the necromancer and kicking him clear into, and partly through, a wall about twenty feet away, thankfully it was crumbling anyway. Lokir hadn't put all of his strength behind that, oh no, he had other plans for the necromancer. With the evil bastard down for a bit Lokir turned his attention to Valth. ”Come on, let me help you up, he's not down for good.” Lokir explained extending a hand, wondering what his affect his powers may have had. ”He's all yours if you want to take your revenge, or I can finish him, either way, a man like that can't walk out of here alive.” For now Lokir kept his name and title to himself, let the man think for himself, decide for himself.

The stranger was not human, that was very obvious.  Given that he was a shifter himself, Valth thought he recognized the signs.  And he wasn't about to complain, he was ready to take whatever help he could get at the moment.  Then he felt strength flood back into his form, and it took a few long moments for his breath to come back to him.  His heartbeat steadied as the necromancer unleashed more dark magic at the stranger, but Valth saw it had little effect.  And he had the impression more so now that the stranger might be one of the gods that wandered the world.  The power to simply walk through spells was rare, and the necromancer had been thrown a considering distance.  Taking the hand, Valth was able to get to his feet again.  "Thank you, friend.  I'm not normally one for revenge… but in this case, I might make an exception," Valth said, picking up his bow. 

He had to take a steadying breath first, then knocked an arrow.  But the bow was steady in his hands, and even as the necromancer struggled to his feet, the young man loosed the arrow.  It flew across the clearing and into the meat of the raised arm, likely ready to throw another spell.  He screamed, and Valth found himself grinning.  "So you're good at inflicting pain, but not at taking it?   Typical," he said with a growl low in his throat.  He shot another arrow, pinning the man's other arm to the wall.  Now that it seemed the threat had been neutralized, Valth sauntered up to him.  Pinned to the wall, all the bluff and bluster was gone. 

Clenching a fist, he noticed something odd.  He could sense the energy in the man now, something he hadn't noticed before.  It was only after the man had fed on his energy.  Placing his hand to the necromancer's face, Valth concentrated on that energy, and on pulling what had been stolen from him back.  And the necromancer screamed again.  Feeling the energy flowing back into him, Valth stepped back, uncertainty on his face.  "Well… that's new.  And I have the feeling that it's your fault.  What in the hell did you do to me?" he asked the necromancer, the growl in his voice deepening.  His hand slammed forward again, drinking more energy in.  There was something deeply satisfying in the resulting scream.

Lokir nodded to the young man's thanks and words of revenge and making an exception in this case. Lokir's added strength to Valth seemed to have helped as his hands were steady with the bow in his hands as he knocked and arrow and aimed. The arrow flew into the necromancer's arm and he screamed, Lokir grinned, while a not violent man Lokir did enjoying seeing people such as this evil magic user suffer as they made their victims suffer. ”Typical indeed.” Lokir confirmed as he watched what was unfolding.

Pinned to the wall the necromancer seemed defeated now in his mannerisms, which was good. He watched in curiosity as Valth placed a hand on the man's face as he recovered his own strength back from the nercomancer, what had been stolen before. Valth questioned what was happening and then did it again before he got an answer and Lokir stepped forward. ”I'm not sure what he did before I arrived.” What Lokir was thinking it could be was that the strength he added into Valth was now acting against the nercomancer when Valth made contact. But that was only a guess on the Tetrarch's part, as he was no full mage and knew such things.

Lokir walked closer to the nercomancer and squatted down and eyed him. ”If you want the pain to end you should my new friend here what it is you did to him.” Lokir spoke rather calmly given the situation. The caster made no reply and Lokir sighed. ”You're not leaving here alive, you know already. But there is fast ways to die and slow ways to die, and I prefer fast ways myself, slow ways are messy. Lokir had reached down and picked up a stone block and casually crushed it in one bare hand. “Tell him, I'll know if you're lying, now, speak up.” Lokir snarl at the end was in no way human.

Even as the necromancer started to babble out an answer, Valth's mind was churning over the chance this would bring to his life.  He was no expert in necromancy… but now it seemed he would have to be.  The man's words were strings of things that made sense, and a language he didn't know.  It didn't take long for him to become impatient.  "So what you're saying is because you didn't kill me right away, I gained some of your… abilities.  Great.  Just what I wanted," he said, sarcasm dripping from the last few words.  It was something he had heard of before, when magic didn't have its intended use, it tended to somehow warp the target.  But perhaps he could put it to good use.  His mother would never forgive him if he fell too far too the dark side.

When the stranger crushed a block of stone with one hand, Valth had to wonder just who he was keeping company with now.  He had grown up in his mother's realm, so the threads of a god's power were familiar to him.  But the young shifter had kept to himself since his mother's fall and disappearance, and he wasn't sure if he was in friendly company or not.  But the fact that the stranger was hostile towards the necromancer was a promising sign.  "Time to see just what I can do now.  And remember, this is your fault," he told the necromancer in a cold voice.  His palm slammed into the man's chest, and he pulled on the energy as hard as he could. 

The necromancer barely had time to scream before he died, but the noise he made was barely human.  There was a twinge of guilt, but Valth shook it off, gods only knew how many people this man had killed already.  Taking a deep, shuddering breath, there was a heady rush as energy flowed through him.  Not just his own, but that of the man he had just killed.  Valth knew he would have to be careful, that rush could be addicting.  He turned and faced the stranger, taking a moment to choose his words carefully.  "Thank you for your help.  My name is Valth, my mother is the fallen goddess of Storms and the Wilds.  So you have both our thanks," he said with a crooked smile as he offered the stranger a bow.  That seemed like a safe enough place to start.

Lokir listened as the necromancer explained what had happened to the Valth, that the young man had somehow gained some of the necromancer's powers because he hadn't been killed fast enough. Lokir looked puzzled, he was no mage so he hadn't heard of magic transfer in such a way before, he'd have to ask the mages at the Fort about it when he was there next.

He watched Valth ripped the magic out of the necromancer, and even he flinched slightly at the sound that came of the now dead man's throat, that was too inhuman sounding. With the threat dead Lokir watched Valth carefully, just in case the newly acquired magic had some kind of adverse affect on him. He seemed okay at the moment but better safe than sorry.

Valth turned to face him and Lokir smiled at his words, fallen Goddess? Interesting. ”You are welcome, Valth.” Lokir thought a moment before continuing. In respect to him and his mother Lokir decided that, yes, perhaps he should introduce himself for who he really was. ”I am Lokir, God of Strength and Courage.” He spoke the next quickly. ”But, please, call me Lokir, I am not one for titles or anything like that.” He chuckled. ”I just wanted to let you know who I was so that you, and your mother, knows that the Gods are still there for you.” He grinned.

With all that aside Lokir thought another moment. ”Now, I have to ask; how do you feel? You just absorbed a lot of dark energy in a short time, I'm worried it may have an adverse affect on you. If you wish, Valth, you would be welcome to Fort Scarwood, I have mages on staff that would be able to help you learn to use that magic and control it if you want. The choice is yours, of course.” Lokir offered but a thought crossed his mind. ”That said, would you be willing to test your new powers now? We're in a controlled area and I stop anything that may go wrong as well.”

His eyes widened for a moment, but a true smile settled on Valth's face when Lokir requested that he not be addressed by titles.  It was a comfort to him, his mother had been much the same way.  And that immediately made him far more trusting of the god. Not to mention strength and courage were things he could use right about now.  "Still, it would be rude of me to not thank you.  I've heard a bit of you, Lokir, but I'm glad to actually meet you," he said, feeling just a bit more relaxed.  Perhaps things would be alright after all.  He had to believe it.

At the question, Valth hesitated.  He was completely sure as to how he felt.  "Too many things at once, I have to be honest.  Fear of nearly dying, hate of the dead mean, apprehension at what this is going to do to me… and curiosity about how I can use the magic for a good purpose.  I think I'd be an idiot to not accept help, especially from a god.  I will certainly go to your Fort, though I have some business to finish here.  I made a promise to an alchemist in town," he admitted with a laugh.  It was difficult for him to accept help, but Valth knew that he was in over his head.  Quil was the mage, not him.  And he wasn't even completely sure as to where his twin brother was.  Probably some crazy quest to hunt down another artifact or something.  Valth knew he'd have to find him again after he got the new powers at his command under control.

The offer was a welcome one, and Valth glanced around, making sure they were truly alone.  He wasn't sure how he would handle hurting anyone innocent.  "I would appreciate that, thank you.  I've had some training as a ranger, but most magic is fairly new to me.  What I did to him was instinct… But if I can learn to focus the magic," Valth said, sounding out his reasoning.  There was a rustling noise behind him, and Valth turned quickly.  But it was only Hadad, returned with a rabbit in his mouth.  The wolf had always been a good companion, always sure to bring back an extra kill for his companion.  "Perhaps first i should eat something.  Would you like to share the rabbit?  And this is Hadad," he added, ruffling the wolf's fur affectionately as he took the rabbit.  Either way, he was going to eat first before trying anything else.

”All good things, I hope.” Lokir replied with a deeper chuckle this time, people heard what they heard of him, he wasn't one to make sure he had a good image. He had what he had, he wasn't going to change himself unless he truly had to. He listened as Valth explained how he felt after what had happened, extending an invitation to Fort Scarwood to help Valth become accustomed to his new found powers.

”Finish your business then, there is no rush, but if thing start to get, weird, then come sooner, rather than later.” Lokir chuckled, scenting the wolf before the beast had appeared with the rabbit in his mouth. Lokir eyed the wolf, a strong beast indeed, and loyal is the fresh kill was any indication. ”I'm fine, Valth, but thank you. I think at this moment you need the food more than I do anyway.” He grinned and found a place to take a seat while he waited, he was in no true rush at the moment anyway. ”If I may ask, what kind of business brought you out here, Valth? Is there anything that I can help with?”

A low rumbling came from another direction from where the wolf had come from and from behind a crumbling wall padded a full grown black bear. It looked to Lokir and snorted and the God chuckled. ”There you are, wondered away for food again I take it? For a familiar you certainly like to eat a lot, hm, wonder what that says about me?” The black bear padded over and slumped lazily down next to Lokir eyeing both drow and wolf before closing his eyes. ”Valth, this is my familiar, no name, at least none that I can figure out anyway.”