C2 - Age of Splendor - Scryde

**Chronicle 2: Age of Splendor - Scryde**

"I've done this for over 30 years. It will be done in no time. After getting a customer ready, you poke them with a needle a few times, then it's done. Anyway, the real problem is that…"

The Symbol Maker sat on a stool, took out a pipe from his pocket and put it in his mouth.

With a leisurely motion, he stuffed tobacco leaves into his pipe and set it afire with a cinder. As he puffed on his pipe, bluish smoke flowed from his nostrils. In the darkened room, the smoke slowly moved up towards the ceiling and danced around in snake-like patterns.

"You dislocated your right shoulder and collarbone. Two or three ribs seem to be fractured, as well. Ah, your pelvic bone is also cracked. Even after they are all completely healed, you will have aches during rainy weather."

The wick of the lamp made crackling sounds, while outside the window an ominous rumbling sound emanated from the sky. Soon it started to drizzle with night rain. Inside, the room fell into an absolute silence. Scryde blurted out his response after a bit of a delay.

"You're talking like a doctor."

While still biting the pipe in his mouth, the symbol maker mixed magic dyes in a flask. When the gold and silver liquid were mixed together, it became transparent. He dropped a blood-red dye into the liquid, which began to shine brilliantly. The liquid changed to purple, indigo and then finally to black. The symbol maker held the flask in his hand as though it were a bottle of fine liquor and shook it briskly. Soon, the liquid became transparent again.

"The abilities of the body are finite. You have to sacrifice one ability to obtain another. The essence of a symbol is balance - within the limits of destroying your body. You have to draw out a certain ability, while also minimizing the side effects that are always generated in this process. That is the technique of symbol making, the most important aspect of this work. Only novices try to create the strongest power or the fastest speed, without considering anything else. People like that often end up engraving a Symbol of Death."

The symbol maker stopped for a moment and inhaled his smoke deeply. Blowing it through his nostrils and mouth, he resumed talking.

"What you need to know is that nowadays, we are about two or three levels higher than most doctors. This is because we have a keen understanding of how the human body works and the principles behind it."

Scryde rose from the exam table. Since the table was typically used for making symbols, it was worn out, had spots of various colors, and smelled unpleasant.

"I realize you are a capable person," Scryde made an effort to button his shirt only with his right hand and then gave up. "But, what are you trying to say?"

"You are in very serious condition. Although you are an Orc who looks like a Dark Elf, I can only guarantee recovery from your injuries if you agree to rest for at least two weeks."

Scryde had a strange attitude that cannot be characterized in either Dark Elf or Human terms. Was it because he had lived in a Human territory, killed Humans, while serving a Human lord? Scryde shook his head and smiled. He was about to say something when he heard the sound of a strider snorting nearby. Outside, someone dismounted and walked towards them. Esenn looked at the Symbol Maker to check his reaction.

"I don't have any customers reserved at this hour."

The mysterious visitor lifted the rain-soaked hood of his raincoat and looked up and down at the building that contained Scryde, Esenn, and the Symbol Maker. He seemed to be trying to decide if it was where he needed to go. He started towards the building.

As Esenn noticed the visitor was a male Human, he decided the purpose of his visit was not to attack them. He glanced at the Symbol Maker again, who nodded his head with irritation, still holding the pipe in his mouth. Esenn opened the door for the visitor before he knocked, catching him by surprise. He raised his hand with an embarrassed air, then strode as though he were a vagabond just returning home. Although he looked a little gaunt at first glance, his gait exuded a strange air of ferocity. His skin was relatively pale, but it was difficult to guess his age, due to countless wrinkles and small scars criss-crossing his face. Esenn felt the visitor was extremely wary as he stood behind him.

"Did you close the door?" the Symbol Maker grunted.

The visitor pretended not to understand and looked back at the door he had just entered. When Esenn pushed the door with the tip of his foot, it closed with a loud thud. When their eyes met, the visitor grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Esenn eyed his bow and quiver in a corner of the room.

The visitor spoke to Esenn's employer. "Are you Scryde, the Knight of Pavel?"

The owner of the house looked offended at being flatly ignored. Scryde also showed displeasure, realizing everyone always seemed to already know him.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, great! I wasn't sure. You came a long way, eh? You look very different from another Dark Elf I know, who is a total basket case."

"Once again, who are you?"

The air in the room seemed to turn to ice. Esenn was torn between the idea of grabbing his bow or pulling out the dagger in his belt. At the same time, he suspected the visitor might be hiding something inside his raincoat. However, nothing happened.

"Very well, Sir. This servant of yours is called Gustin. My master is a very noble person, but I just carry out some trivial errands. My master said that he was very grateful to the loyal support and cooperation your lord has provided and sent me to offer you a little help. Heh, heh, heh!"

It was obvious that his speech was filled with sarcasm. Scryde spoke without blinking an eye.

"I don't need any help from a servant, or whatever you are. I don't know who your master is, but say whatever it is you have to say, and then be off with you."

Gustin clenched his teeth. Esenn felt some sympathy for him. If an Orc were to receive such a rebuff, a fight would have ensued, that would have lasted until only one of them was left standing. Only a Human would endure an insult to such a degree.

"I heard that the woman you have been chasing has gone to the Manor of Water."

"Why should I believe you?"

"There is no reason that you shouldn't believe me."

Scryde looked at his Human visitor for a while. Some say that the eyes are the window to the soul, but the pupils of Scryde's eyes looked like bottomless wells.

"Is your master the Witness of Prophecy?"

"Oh, my!" Clicking his tongue, Gustin turned his gaze to the Symbol Maker. "You found me out. You shouldn't have said it aloud, though. Thanks to you, no one will have symbols engraved on them here in Giran for a while. My master told me to execute those who spread evil heathen customs like yours."

The blade of a sword with a bluish gleam suddenly appeared from the visitor's raincoat. An unexpected torrent of vile curses spewed from the mouth of the Symbol Maker as he picked up the largest needle for symbol making within reach on the floor.

"You Bishop's mongrel! Would you like me to carve out a heart symbol for you?"

Gustin smiled coolly and gave a broad grin showing his teeth.

"With both your arms cut off, I wonder how you will do such a thing."

Without clearly knowing why, Esenn felt the need to help the Symbol Maker. However, he was just a hired hand and couldn't tell what was on the mind of his employer. Scryde used his uninjured right arm to lift the three legged stool and throw it down with a loud crash upon Gustin's head.

"What are you doing!" Gustin screamed in anger. "This is none of your concern!"

"I don't like your master." Looking at Scryde's wrinkled brow and the Symbol Maker's concerned expression, Esenn realized the patient's right shoulder was dislocated again. "I don't like the way the two of you behave, either," he said, with a voice devoid of any emotion.

Blood gushed from Gustin's forehead, traveling past the wrinkled corners of his eyes and protruding cheekbones, reaching his mouth. A quivering sound leaked from Gustin's throat, but it was hard to tell if he were sniffling or snickering.

"Dark Elves are all the same. You can't help yourselves. Even when you are about to die, you have to show your temper!" Gustin muttered darkly. Rather than address the others in the room, he was actually talking to himself. "But, what would your master say? Humans are much more complicated and cunning creatures!"

"I guess you don't love your master," Scryde mocked him with laughter. "I truly feel sorry for you."

Gripped by a sense of defeat, Gustin left, unable to take the Symbol Maker's life. Some time later, Scryde received another painful treatment that lasted several hours. Afterwards, he told Esenn to leave for Innadril. Gustin may yet have the opportunity to satisfy his cheap desire for revenge. Esenn thought that if the gloomy Human were there to witness the ordeal of Scryde's treatment, even he would have found no joy in it.

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Source : http://legacy.lineage2.com/background/chronicle2/chapter5\_scride.html

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