Shiva's blood freezes in her veins, both at the man's featureless face and the familiarity with which he spoke her name. Her mind searches for something to say, but a questions rings louder than any other thought. "...where can this place take me?"

"Oh, here, there," the man chuckles in a singsong voice, turning to look back at his horse. "Everywhere," he adds after an emphatic pause. "The real question is; what will it cost you?"

Shiva reflects on the tangle of words, unsure if she wanted to understand their meaning. Slowly, she nods at the figure. "Alright. Well, do you live on this estate? Are there others here?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the man tuts with an admonishing shake of his head. A flickering shadow of a hand snaps out to his side and a black blade materialises in it. "Shivala Ki-Tanra," he calls out, as though speaking to someone else. "Would you like to go home?"

"How do you-" "Shiva. I can talk to him. I'm going to take the wheel for a bit."  A shudder runs through the tiefling's body, and her expression falls into one of complete calm. Her posture then becomes more delicate, more graceful, and her hands rise to sit on her hips. A smirk forms on Ki-Tanra's lips as she looks to the figure skeptically. "So, would going home mean killing Shivala of Vudra? Because I simply could not abide by that."

The shadowy figure slowly shakes his head with a wry grin and a chuckle.

"Nothing so macabre, I'm afraid," he drawls. "The bond must be severed and the soul transferred to another receptacle."

Four controlled flicks of the wrist slice a square window in the air. On the other side is a dark room where five bodies lie stretched out on sterile metal tables. Each face is familiar and yet somehow also wrong. Alaris, Caio, Ling, Nikolai and Shiva. The first three appear human, but for patterns of dark tattoos that swirl across their skin. The latter two retain some aspects of their fiendish heritage, but only hints.

"After that, home is just a portal away."

Taken aback by this sudden display, Ki-Tanra opens her mouth to speak, then closes it. She gazes at the bodies lying in the void, lingering on her own unmoving form. "So how would the bond be severed?"

The man raises one hand and clicks his fingers, causing both the black blade and the floating window to dissolve into smoke.

"With the power of the Azrael's runestone, which you are going to bring me," he tells Shiva smugly. The horse turns to look at the tiefling and its eyes flare as it snorts.

Ki-Tanra raises an eyebrow. "I am? I would then assume that its retrieval may very well cost the lives of both Shivala and I, as you would already have it if it were as easy as a trip to the market." She looks to the horse eyeing her and smiles. "That's a lovely horse, and Shivala is in need of a steed to call her own. I'll do my best to persuade her in your favor if you allow us an equine like that one."

"You are a band of powerful and resourceful bounty hunters," the man corrects with a nonchalant shrug. "Independent agents with the freedom to go wherever the job takes you. I would gain nothing from sending you to your doom, but we both stand to profit from your success."

He pauses for a moment to let this sink in, gently running his hand through his horse's fur.

"As for Scáthloch, I couldn't possibly spare him, but it is a long road to Beschcadik... perhaps Énbarr."

A keen whistle rings through the air, followed by a distant neigh as another dark horse comes cantering across the paddock from inside the stable. Its mane streams out behind it like flames of black and grey as it trots up to Shiva and lowers its head towards the tiefling. The beast's breath is cold against her skin.

Ki-Tanra smiles wide and pets the horse near their ears. "Hello, Énbarr. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She then turns her attention to the figure. "I will not argue those points. So Beschcadick is our destination? What else do we need to know, apart from just who the hell you are, anyway?"

Énbarr snorts against Shiva's arm. The mare allows the tiefling's touch briefly, before tossing her head and trotting off around the edges of the paddock.

"You may call me the Collector," the beast's master tells his guest with a cryptic smirk. "The runestone is an amethyst gemstone with four triangular faces, large enough to fill the palm of your hand. I have sensed its presence in Beschcadik, but can tell you little more. When you find it, Énbarr can return you to me. Find her stall in the stables and take the spurs. As long as Énbarr wears her tack, you can call upon her by tapping the spurs together or passing them though blood."

"Alright, understood. Thank you for the very creepy help. Before I turn things back over to Shivala, how do we get out of here once I have the spurs?" 

"Énbarr will take you," the Collector explains, before himself mounting Scáthloch.

"Great. See you soon then, I suppose." A shudder once more runs through Shiva's body, and Shivala of Vudra finds herself back in control. "You get all of that, hun?"  "Yeah. Thank you, that was very badass. And now we have a solid avenue for getting you back home." "I wouldn't be too trusting yet. We're in a horrific demiplane talking to an amiable creature with no face. Let's find out what we can before going after that runestone."  "Yeah, agreed."

As the entity mounts his horse, Shiva takes a few steps forward. "Wait, I have something to ask you. Your blade, it's..." She reaches out and manifests her own blade. "Where does this come from?"

"Why, from my collection, of course," the Collector chuckles, materialising his own in his hand once more. "I have invested much time and effort into gathering the black blades in my armoury. Although, there always seem to be more to be found."

She looks on with confusion and interest. "The black blades? There are many of these?"

The Collector nods in what seems to be amusement.

"Stormbringer, Mournblade, Blackrazor. All of them are weapons forged from primordial chaos and quenched in shadow, typically by the Raven Queen herself. Where did you think that it goes when you dismiss it, Shiva?"

Finally, there were answers to the questions that had seemed all but impossible to address mere weeks ago. But they carried even deeper queries that whirled in her mind, and though she doubted that this was the whole truth, it was now all she had to go on. "I never knew. I just woke up one night and it laid there beside me." 

She pauses, now frightened of the answer to her next question. "The voice that spoke to me...was that you?"

The Collector swings his weapon in an arc and nine black swords appear suspended in the air around him.

"What do you think, Shiva?"