Compared to the hell he'd been through to get his passport, Aven was quite enjoying the train ride to Bosco. Not only were the wait staff on the train jovial and polite, he had a riveting conversation about the history of Lacrima development with the man siting across from him. It was a pleasant view for most of the ride, as well, the green pastures and forests lining the railway providing a calming abode for the nap he took halfway though. He noticed that the closer they got, however, the less hold nature had over the landscape. It was almost as if technology itself were progressing in front of his eyes. Riveting, in some respects.
After saying a fond farewell to his fellow magic researcher, Aven made his way off the train and toward his destination, a place called "The Velvet Society". Interesting name, made him think of the textile industry. He entertained himself with the specifics of such a company during the several hours he spent roaming the area searching for the entrance, a set of double doors that he couldn't possible have passed at least six times. Perhaps too many thoughts about the intricacies of selling Velvet as a staple product.
Finally, he arrived (for the seventh time) at the entrance of the Velvet Society. A sense of foreboding tugged at his gut, but he ignored it. Perilous or not, he would find out what made Dark wizards tick. Inside, the heavy scent of... something, permeated the area. He was greeted warmly by the staff, and directed down a hallway, having said that he wanted something to eat. He'd assumed that they, like everyone else, would not talk about whatever organization those Coins belonged to. He would need to find the answer himself. As if in response to his thoughts, as his hand brushed the wall, a door materialized. The mere touch of the door sent a chill down Aven's spine, but again, after the initial surprise, he proceeded through it, to a sight that dwarfed anything he'd ever witnessed.
The scent alone was nearly enough to push Aven back out the door. He smelled death, decay; he could sense misery in the purest of forms. It was as if he'd stepped into hell itself! Almost by instinct, his form twisted and grew, his eyes becoming crimson, and matching etchings snaking along his shoulders and torso, taking on his demon form. He was afforded a few side glances by the scum he saw partaking in the various defilements of basic human rights scattered around the level, but nothing more. A single glance at his palm, where the Coin had materialized, affirmed his suspicions. He'd skipped the frying pan all together, and jumped straight into the fire.
After saying a fond farewell to his fellow magic researcher, Aven made his way off the train and toward his destination, a place called "The Velvet Society". Interesting name, made him think of the textile industry. He entertained himself with the specifics of such a company during the several hours he spent roaming the area searching for the entrance, a set of double doors that he couldn't possible have passed at least six times. Perhaps too many thoughts about the intricacies of selling Velvet as a staple product.
Finally, he arrived (for the seventh time) at the entrance of the Velvet Society. A sense of foreboding tugged at his gut, but he ignored it. Perilous or not, he would find out what made Dark wizards tick. Inside, the heavy scent of... something, permeated the area. He was greeted warmly by the staff, and directed down a hallway, having said that he wanted something to eat. He'd assumed that they, like everyone else, would not talk about whatever organization those Coins belonged to. He would need to find the answer himself. As if in response to his thoughts, as his hand brushed the wall, a door materialized. The mere touch of the door sent a chill down Aven's spine, but again, after the initial surprise, he proceeded through it, to a sight that dwarfed anything he'd ever witnessed.
The scent alone was nearly enough to push Aven back out the door. He smelled death, decay; he could sense misery in the purest of forms. It was as if he'd stepped into hell itself! Almost by instinct, his form twisted and grew, his eyes becoming crimson, and matching etchings snaking along his shoulders and torso, taking on his demon form. He was afforded a few side glances by the scum he saw partaking in the various defilements of basic human rights scattered around the level, but nothing more. A single glance at his palm, where the Coin had materialized, affirmed his suspicions. He'd skipped the frying pan all together, and jumped straight into the fire.