A new resident to the living city of Tarkuul is often seen wandering the halls or studying the vast amounts of books within the library. Unlike the large assortment of necromancers and undead thralls within the city, however, this woman seems to be quite full of life. Her dark skin and short height would mark her as Durpari, and her beauty is to surely be noticed. Wearing little more than a long shirt, she always seems to walk with a sensual sway to her hips while her expression is that of utter relaxation. The only thing that'd ruin this image, to few perhaps, would be the imp that follows her. The little bugger seems to live up to the reputation of its kindred, often making crude comments about something he sees or just chattering away for the sake of it. The woman doesn't seem to mind him much, although occasionally the imp will go silent after a noticable wince and disturbance in his flying.

"Quite the place Mistress stumbled upon... people are as almost messed up as we are!"

"We are going to make the best of this, Sigsir... There is plenty of oppurtunity to be had..."

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Retired

The Durpari woman has been rather active since her arrival to Tarkuul. She is now seen a new uniform of the Protectorate's mage division, patrolling the Living City while on duty. When she's off-duty and within the city, she can mostly be found in the library. When she is not reading available tomes regarding the Lower Planes, Abhilasha often converses with infernals themselves. Within the the library's stone chamber she summons Baatezu ranging from the seductive Erinyes to the fierce Cornugon, either questioning them about the present status of the Nine Hells (Particularly Malbolge) or arranging payments for their services in general.

Her magical prowess is indeed growing, the sorceress often testing increasingly more powerful spells on the pitiful Troglodytes outside Tarkuul's portal. Despite all of this, one thing hasn't changed: Sigsir. The loud-mouthed imp never leaves her side, chattering about their surroundings and always intent on conversing with those who approach them. Occasionally, though, the Imp's endless talking will draw the attention of the Sorceress. All will suddenly go quiet, and the imp will look as though it were in pain as it stares at the floor. It never lasts for long, though.

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Retired

Eithne, having a fondness for both the sorceress and her imp, is a frequent visitor upon her during her studies, though she stays quiet if she sees the sorceress busy with guarding, conversing, or reading, and always goes away if asked (or told).

She does seem to enjoy talking to Sigsir in particular, however. Minion to minion?

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Within the library, to figures are seen at a desk. One is a woman of Durpari descent, wearing comfortable yet unmodest attire, and the other is an imp who sits on the edge nearby. They both seem somewhat busy, the woman writing in a journal while the imp entertains himself by watching the library in general while repeatedly folding a blank piece of paper.

"Why does mistress ask the same questions to those she summon?" The imp suddenly asks as his head makes a slight turn towards her with a his trademark gnarled grin.

She doesn't pause in her writing, the woman's expression devoid of all emotion aside from an eerie state of relaxation. "Because I need to seperate the false information from what is truthful... Say all you'd like, Sigsir, but despite the fact your kind are beings of law you all enjoy loopholes far too much." Her words are smooth and flowing, but like her expression they are void of emotion. It is relaxed, nothing more.

"Bah! Always with the questions...or reading." The imp picks up a nearby book; A Guide to the Nine Hells. "Like this thing." The imp looks about suspicously before leaning back and whispering to his mistress in the infernal tongue "The fool thinks he can summarize Baator in ten pages... I almost pity the poor sod who tries waltzing into Avernus with 'this' as their hope for safety."

The woman glances to Sigsir, then the small book held in his clutches. She shrugs ever so slightly and reaches to take the book from him and putting it aside. "You know your kindred aren't those who give away their knowledge easily." At her words, the imp gives a brief look of innocent surprise. "Mistress doesn't trust us? We always give what the price warrants." As soon as the words leaves his lips, so does the surprise, his gnarled and disgusting grin quickly reappearing.

"Why doesn't mistress just-" The imp's eyes suddenly go wide and he flops onto the floor, flailing in a silent fit. Nothing is disturbed around him, although the sight would be amusing to some. The woman doesn't pause in her writing, although a smile finally comes to her lips. "You talk too much, Sigsir." At those words, she places her quill back on the desk, allowing time for the ink to dry before she closes her journal and stows it away in a bag at her side. From that same bag she pulls out a small pouch, balancing the assortment of coins and gems within before she stands. She still had many questions to ask...answers to seek. "I still need to locate a Paeliryon..." These words she says to herself in a whisper as she heads towards the stone room often used for summonings.

The imp's thrashing finally settles down, his breathing ragged for a moment before he skakily rises into the air. Looking about, he checks to make sure no one was watching before he silenty glides after his mistress. The sorceress.

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Retired

Any who would take note of the Sorceress and imp, would notice something a tad grotesque about the latter. Sigsir's right arm seems to have been rendered useless by large and fleshy tumors. The imp appears to be in constant pain and his flight appears to be slightly hampered as well. If asked about it, Abhilasha remains silent and Sigsir just gives a sudden gnarled grin.

"I'm from Malbolge. Nothing to worry about. Although if you're willing to damn your soul to cheer me up, by all means!"

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Retired

The Sorceress known as Abhilasha has begun to devote much of her free time to the library as of late. Secluding herself to a small corner within the vast collection of information, the Durpari woman seems to have taken interest in a collection of much older tomes and scrolls. She compares the information between the written sources diligently, seperating the useful texts from others and jotting down notes in her own journal. Likewise, she's seem to brought in small books and vellums of her own. Additional hours would be spent comparing her own information to that of Tarkuul's.

Occasionally, when she finds the written information from either party to be lacking, the sorceress walks over to the summoning chamber. Any passerby who happened to glance in the direction of the chamber would either see the woman holding a quiet discussion with infernal beings of various levels in power. The faint scent of brimstone is sure to linger within the small stone room.

If anyone were to attempt to take a peak at the woman's research while she's away from her corner, they'd find a certain imp acting as a 'guard' over the texts. He doesn't appear to be making any threats to those who approach, simply playing the role of distraction until his mistress returns; which is quite soon after someone begins to get curious. The imp is always prepared with a See Invisibility enchantment. Once Abhilasha feels she has put enough of her time into research for the day, she collects the books she owns and reshelves the resources of Tarkuul. Not a trace of her presence is to be found until she once again returns to her work.

Those who know her best would note a look of determination in her eyes, and that her otherwise relaxed smile would be more apparent than usual. She obviously has a plan...

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Retired

The sorceress continues her work in the library, pages upon pages of information being sorted through as she searches for her answer. One night she is seen conversing with yet another Infernal in the circular room. This one would easily pass for a human in shape; a male. It wears crude leather armor with a matching apron and a black spike covered mask to hide its face. In its right hand it carries a large flail covered in spikes and sharp blades with fleshy pieces of gore still stuck to it from past 'sessions'.

The two hold a long conversation in the infernal tongue, the devil safely bound to a circle in the center of the room. That doesn't seem to stop it, however, from trying to reach Abhilasha. Randomly throughout the conversation, the diabolical being is seen lunging at the sorceress with its crude weapon of choice. Every time, however, it's repelled by the circle's border and they resume their conversation as if nothing happened. Eventually their talk ends, and the durprari woman tosses what appears to be a rod into the circle. The devil takes it with a rather sadistic cackle before returning to its plane.

"Those Excruciarchs even give me the creeps..." A certain imp comments as the sorceress returns to her desk. Sigsir appears to be less mischievous than usual, but he still holds the gnarled grin he's known for. His arm is also back in good health, free of any tumors.

Abhilasha regards her companion for a moment before shaking her head and making some additional notes in a small book in front of her as she sits down. She replies in an emotionless tone of voice, the quill in her hand scratching over the paper as she speaks. "Their appointed tasks make them a valuable source of information, Sigsir. Especially for what I'm trying to accomplish."

"I bet that fella's just itching for mistress' soul to cross over." The imp said with a cackle. "Best hope mistress makes a breakthrough before that happens."

Abhilasha would pause at that thought, but Sigsir would not be going through any spasms of pain for his comment. He was, afterall, correct. No matter how young she may be now, the sands are always falling.

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Retired

After a long period of seclusion, the Durpari sorceress and the cackling imp are once again seen within the Living City.

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Retired

If Abhilasha would ask around, it seems the tiefling duo Ian and Eithne have gone off somewhere on a trip, though it likely they'll return.

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For some reason or another, the imp known as Sigsir is once again seen within the main hall of Tarkuul. He spends the better part of the day going back and forth between the living quarters and the library, holding books and scrolls in his scrawny arms. Currently, his mistress is not seen with him.

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Retired

Upon seeing Sigsir flittering around, Irae raises a dark hand in greeting
"Send my best to your Mistress, imp."

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Aly'dra Zau'ana: Priestessish Of Eilistraee
Danika Nefzen: Druid of the Earthmother
Delia Am'Anodel: Paladin of Torm

Having abandoned the libaries for a long time, Sepia returns from a hunt, her upper lip bleeding, noticing the sorceres and Irae. She passes the two, carefully examining the strange woman and her imp and sits down in a chair closeby,trying to catch her breath.

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These trees are made for humpin'!