Fantasy CAINHURST - RP

[Avari]

Avari
DM | Severa Cainhurst | Lucrezia | Main NPCs

Refaulted
- Helmfried Cainhurst

NoQuillToLive -
Klyn Cainhurst

UltrAiron -
Noire Cainhurst

Corvid15
Lucian Cainhurst

gheist
- Jeanne Marchant

Ghostiiys
- Seldanna Valvaris

Dalamus Ulom
- Elazer Cainhurst

koala
- Asherah Sorrell, the Second Maiden

@Simple_Traveler
Mattias Vorpaleon

IG42
Shizuka Gozen

Pilgrim59
Sepulcher X of Dreadmoor

MagicPenguin
Derwin Shaw

Kent
Albert Crow

WillfulWren
Clarisse Laxei



1) Please start each post with your location, character name and the name of the player you're interacting with. (If applicable)
2) No harming other players without strict permission
3) If you're not going to be able to respond to a post within 3 days, please make it clear on the OOC
4) Avoid more than 3 players in one conversation where possible. It gets messy. Please plan interactions in advance. I HIGHLY recommend using Meetingwords.com to write posts together if you're intending a fairly long conversation.
5) IMPORTANT: Please ensure you adhere to the day/night system explained below.

IMPORTANT THE DAY/NIGHT SYSTEM IMPORTANT




In a vein similar to the Persona games, the RP is broken up into a cycle of day and night time segments - each will be clearly marked by an update from myself with a calendar post that will tell you the date and weather, along with any notable events that are going on around Hollowvale. Think of them as effectively mini-chapters within the RP, to ensure no one jumps ahead or is left behind. The RP will switch between Day and Night once a week (This may be adjusted in the future depending on how things go/ plot requirements)

So for example - If the RP starts on Monday the 1st June with Day 1, Night 1 will begin on the 8th June.

You are not restricted by how much you post during these segments, but please post at least once a week as a minimum and you've "wrapped up" by the end of the week.



CHARACTER SHEETS
OOC
LORE PAGE
NPC GUIDE
MEETINGWORDS
​

 

[Avari]

CHAPTER I:
Reign of a Dark Lord



Ends: 14/06/2020
Weather: Clear, but cold.

---

The Black Court meets tonight.

The Nobles of every Town and City, every Cult leader and Necromancer Lord, representatives of the various tribes that call Hollowvale their home...All of them are coming to Blackrock at the Dark Lord's personal invitation to discuss the ongoing rule of the nation.
The Castle itself is in a state of controlled chaos with servants running to and fro with three dozen different tasks each and faithful Undead in tow, to ensure the visit of its guests is a pleasant one. The Bloodguard - resplendent in their royal crimson robes are on high alert, ever watchful for any signs of trouble. Having so many rival factions in Blackrock at once always invites some matter of scandal or mishap, it is only the Dark Lord's strength that stops them from openly attempting to destroy one another after all.
Throughout the day, gigantic carriages constantly arrive in Blackrock's courtyard - each pulled by Undead Horses covered in elegant (and sometimes decadent) fabrics and armors as a show of wealth and power. The Black Court only happens once every few months after all, and is always an excellent opportunity to flaunt ones success and strength over his or her rivals.

All weakness invites is a stab in the back.

Usually literally.

---

The First Day will last approx two weeks IRL time

---

​

 

[Avari]

Severa Cainhurst
+
Jeanne Marchant

Blackrock Castle Entrance Hall



​

The main lobby of Blackrock Castle was as beautiful as it was mysterious. A mixture of natural geology and Dwarven design; symbolic of an ancient age when practitioners of magic were less able to differentiate the two. Opulent yet minimal, intimidating and yet welcoming. Blackrock was a heaving pile of contradictions - much like the Dark Mages themselves. The very nature of a Dark Mage demanded they never be subservient; that they never bow in the pursuit of power...and yet here they were, ready to lick the boots of their master once again.

But Severa Cainhurst didn't have time to admire Blackrock or contemplate the confusing nature of its current inhabitants - she was a busy woman. Today more than ever, as she led a gaggle of immaculately uniformed servants across the hallway, each carrying a pile of notes and frantically scrabbling her orders as she walked, her hips swaying as she did so.

"I want a copy of those background checks on my desk before the day's end or no one will have an opportunity to enjoy the after party. Oh and mention my name if Lord Crow tries to give you any grief on the matter. He's such a tease sometimes." she ordered as she briefly paused to allow one of the maids to quickly drape a crimson cape around her shoulders and fasten it with a brooch in the shape of the Cainhurst crest.

She took a brief moment to admire herself in a nearby mirror, and upon finding her appearance satisfactory, gave a brief smile to her attendant who bowed quickly and moved out of her way as she began walking again. Another one the maids - this one a Neko'Sha with her blond hair tied back in a intricate knot promptly took her place at the front of the group and handed Severa several messages without a word, which the eldest Cainhurst daughter began to leaf through as they made their way to the grand oak door which led to the dining hall.

"Absences..." She muttered to herself, flicking through the excuses and apologies of those who would not be attending the Black Court that night. "Lady Dashfang is recovering from a bout of the pox. That suits me just fine, keeps her whores of daughters away from my darling brothers..."

They reached the dining hall. Six Bloodguard suddenly appeared around her to escort her. They eyed everyone with suspicion - even the maids and Undead working to prepare the vast and grandiose dining hall. Severa spared an acknowledging wave to the hard-workers as she passed, before glancing around. "Oh that reminds me, who has the seating plans? Jeanne darling?"

"Over here, my lady," Jeanne replied briskly, handing over a sheaf of papers. Though Lady Severa's height had her striding swiftly through the opulent halls of Blackrock at a quick pace, Jeanne had managed to keep up by taking two steps to every one of her dear lady's. The other servants - all in similar, neatly pressed uniforms, with their own papers and quills at the ready - were hurrying along in a similar fashion and for a moment, Jeanne let herself feel a smidgen of petty pride at how quickly she managed to keep up with Lady Severa without losing her breath nor spilling the inkpot she had in her hand.

Said sheaf of papers she'd given to Lady Severa had several possible seating plans on them, depending on who came, who didn't, who was being currently favored, and who needed to grovel more, based on the best possible arrangement for least murder. "If Lady Dashfang is not here, I highly recommend Seat Plan 2A, although that will seat Lord Havelock next to her and that might result in...another incident." She paused. "Though of course, my lady, I can assure you we can always clean up any wine spills or blood stains that might occur."

"Havelock is a pedophile I don't care what that official report said." Severa replied coolly. "Blood stains would be a blessing. Especially with my darling little Noire here. 2A it is."

Around them, the dining hall was a flurry of activity. Undead and living alike scuttled about like ants, cleaning and arranging, while giving Lady Severa and her entourage of servants and Bloodguards a wide berth. Out of respect, naturally, Jeanne thought with approval.

"Will you seat yourself with the rest of your siblings, my lady?"

Severa cast a side eye at the maid, a small smile cheating its way onto her lips. It was an obvious question, to which she knew Jeanne knew the answer. But it gave them both an air of familiarity which in turn allowed Jeanne to maintain dominance over her colleagues. "Well of course. I couldn't bare the thought of being anywhere else. Do make sure there's a space for my dear Elazer as well. I'm sure he'll be back in time. I'm absolutely sure."

She frowned for a moment. Her thoughts turned to her poor brother, ordered by Father out into the wastes on a fool's errand - not a day past when she didn't find herself watching the main road to Blackrock from the viewing platform, a faint hope that it might finally be the day he would return. She had to beg Lucrezia to send a Maiden with him - that single fact gave her a tiny crumb of comfort.

Owing a favor to Lucrezia - or anyone for that matter - was decidedly less comforting of course. But needs must.

Beside her, Jeanne watched, her face calmly neutral. The rest of the maids were quiet, their chattering swiftly silenced by a subtle but severe hand gesture from Jeanne when Lady Severa grew silent.

"I'm absolutely sure." She repeated. Then she clapped her hands. "Now, you all have your duties. Oh, and can someone send a note to the kitchen to remind them that those silly little Necromancers from Dreadmoor like their meat with some fight still in it. Thank you sweeties."

"Of course, my lady." Hearing the dismissal, Jeanne swiftly spun around on her heel before any of the maids could react - the minute Lady Severa had clapped, it was a sure sign they were about to be told to go, and it didn't do to be one second too late - and jerked her head to the grand doors of the dining hall. The rest of the uniformed servants bowed and curtsied. "You all heard Lady Severa," Jeanne said, quietly but firmly, as she followed the gaggle of maids flocking to the doors. A glint in her eye was the only emotion shining through her professionally blank expression, but it shone bright. "We all have our duties. So let's do them well, let's do them quick, and let's do them like this dinner is our last." Which it very well could be if they didn't do well. But she shook off that thought and smiled widely at the other servants.

All of whom looked at each other and back at her. Then took a step back.

Jeanne ignored them, and simply clapped her hands. "Alright, let's be off. Oh, and Isolde, to the kitchens. Remember what our lady said, about the meat."

Now to make sure everyone else was doing their duties.

---

Written with gheist​

 

[MagicPenguin]

Derwin Shaw
Outside Blackrock

While preparations were made inside the castle's halls, the areas outside the main keep bustled with activity. Milling in the shadows of Blackrock's towering spires that seemed to pierce the heavens were the crowds of incoming guests and diplomats from every corner of Hollowvale, all awaiting their chance to enter and participate in the upcoming Council. It wouldn't do to allow oneself to be seen as poorer than other houses or less extravagant than one's political rivals, so of course every diplomat had brought what seemed to be their entire household in an exaggerated effort to make themselves appear more grand. For every important attendee, there were also scores of personal servants, noble vassals, men-at-arms, ladies-in-waiting, mercenaries and/or knights, mages specializing in everything from combat to necromancy to simple parlor tricks for entertainment, favored bards and minstrels and chefs, wives and concubines and mistresses and harems (or their male equivalents), and, of course, hosts of undead servants complete with the necromancers required to raise and maintain them. The result of every guest trying to bring as many servants as possible, of course, meant that Blackrock was as packed on this occasion as it ever was. Walkways, gardens, and courtyards that usually stood at half capacity or less on any normal day now seemed overrun like a sea of black insects swarming a dead carcass. Four large gates in every cardinal direction from the main keep that could normally admit five large carriages side to side now each stood clogged with what seemed to be miles-long lines of caravans, each entrant waiting patiently while the bloodguards and dark maidens screened the incomers before allowing passage through.

Derwin Shaw, flying high above the excitement atop his eternal companion, the crimson-colored, horse-sized wyvern Athena, currently paid little attention to the hubbub at the gates. He circled in a clockwise fashion the highest of Blackrock's soaring obsidian towers, though he paid little attention to the magnificence of the gothic architecture either. He was instead watching the walls, his one good eye counting out the number of guards atop each outer wall, testing scenarios in his head to ensure there were enough stationed in the proper places to repel any possible attack from the guests from within or without. Of course, the Bloodguard Captain didn't expect anything like that to happen--to mount such an attack within Dark Lord Ulfric's own walls while he was present and surrounded by all his military might, as well as that of his grown children, would simply be suicidal--but the safety of the Cainhurst royals was his topmost priority, and that meant accounting for every possibility, no matter how remote, to prevent any of them from having to face danger.

"Hm," he noted to himself. "More traffic from the North than we anticipated. Fewer people from the South. How odd..."

He counted soldiers in his head, quickly figuring how many people he would need to move from the South gate to the North in order to prevent anyone from getting through should every guest at once make a concentrated push to break in from every direction. He flew low, preparing to land so he could pass on orders to the commanders of the Northern and Southern post about the change in numbers. As he did, he noticed a group of wide-eyed young boys and girls watching him pass, pointing to him and speaking to one another with an excited air about them. from outside a caravan of one of the guests. Probably some servants' children he guessed by the relatively crude way they were dressed. He gave them a wave and their awestruck faces broke into wide, joyous grins as they jumped up and down and stumbled all over each other trying to wave back.

Aside from assessing the castle's defenses, the other reason for Derwin's impromptu flight today was simply appearances. Public relations was as much the Bloodguard's job as their military duties. It was comprised of the most elite soldiers in all of Hollowvale and was a symbol of strength and stability wherever they went, but nowhere moreso than within Blackrock's own walls on a day like today. Anyone who looked up and saw the force's captain, the famous Bloodwing--a nickname Derwin had picked up somewhere along the way during his 20 plus years of military service--atop his deadly wyvern, patrolling the grounds from on high, would immediately know who he was. His presence up here, looking down on the proceedings, would serve the dual purpose of adding to Blackrock's--and by extension, the Cainhurst family's--already considerable majesty on this notable occasion, and also deterring anyone who got any bright ideas about causing trouble within its walls. Athena made sure to let loose loud, piercing shrieks and mighty roars periodically, just to give people a reason to look up and find the pair. He would also occaisionally do some flips or barrel rolls or loop de loops for show. Derwin could feel Athena humming and vibrating with pleasure with all the eyes on her beautiful mid-air form; she loved all the attention. Derwin didn't consider himself a show-off, even if he had somehow become a minor celebrity in Hallowvale--to him, ability was always more important than appearance--but in truth, he didn't particularly mind all the awestruck looks and excited pointing in his direction today either.

Derwin moved his reins to steer Athena down for an easy landing, but just as they were about to finish their descent, the wyvern's head perked up and she started going back up of her own volition. Rather than be annoyed by her sudden disobedience, Derwin eased up on the reins and let her take control of their destination; he trusted her well enough to know that she would not act so without a reason. With a roar, she darted off in a seemingly random direction, then, at another apparently random location on the outskirts of one of the outer courtyards just inside the Eastern gate, she stopped. Her head tilted back and her glowing amber eye met Derwin's for just a moment before she gestured with her nose to a particularly large sculpture carefully crafted out of a big bush by the gardeners to look like a foreign animal from a far off land. Derwin was unsure at first why Athena would be interested in this--perhaps she was hungry and the animal reminded her of food? But then he saw them: four figures lurking behind the sculpture, three of them large trolls with swords drawn and cornering a much smaller human, whose tense posture and shifty eyes gave him a very anxious appearance. They were out of view of the guards on any nearby walls, and away from the majority of the crowd milling in the center of the courtyard. The human was well-dressed in silk and frills with a purple feathered cap, which marked him as a noble of some kind. He had a sword at his belt, but, unlike his attackers, he hadn't drawn it. The trolls in their loin cloths also seemed relatively well dressed--that is to say, they weren't naked and covered in gore from head to toe--so perhaps they were some form of nobility where they came from as well, or perhaps higher ups from a larger tribe of them.

With sometimes...combative...guests such as the ones arriving today, sudden duels could often not be avoided, but when entering through the main gates, everyone should have been informed in no uncertain terms that such duels were not to take place without the express permission of Cainhurst royalty or their direct subordinates, nor without someone of Bloodguard rank or higher to witness it. Under all other circumstances, no weapons were to be removed from sheathes, in the interest of keeping things at least relatively peaceful. It seems Athena had heard the light rasp of the swords as they left their leather scabbards, or perhaps smelled the oil with which they were honed and maintained once they were bared, which had caused her to rush here at once. If not for her, this little scuffle might have caused serious problems before the main event started, which would have been a black mark on the honor of the Bloodguards. An unthinkable outcome. Derwin gave Athena an affectionate pat on the neck. Just what would I do without you, partner?

The group hadn't noticed them, it appeared, so rather than intervene at once, Derwin chose to observe for a moment from his perch high up on one of the castle's lower towers. He tried to place who these fellows were. If he wasn't mistaken, the broach on the human's right breast was the coat-of-arms of a minor family from somewhere near Grimthorne. He'd never been there himself, but Derwin had read and also heard from others who were stationed there that there was often bad blood between the humans and the non-human creatures who made their homes in the region. This was perhaps related to that. Derwin gestured downward to Athena and she grabbed him off her back with her long tail. She lowered him as far toward the ground from her perch as she could, then let him drop to land on his feet. He couldn't avoid making any clanking sounds at all with his armor and greatsword, but he remained as quiet as possible, and over the general buzz of conversation in the courtyard, he hadn't been heard. He made his way up to the sculpture so he could hear what was going on. The largest troll in the middle was speaking.

"...we're gonna carve you up so good nobody's even gonna recognize the corpse."

"Fools," the human replied, "if you're caught with swords bared without permission, the king will never grant you favor, even if I'm no longer around. It would be an insult to his hospitality, and I'm sure you know how His Grace handles insults nowadays." He still made no move to draw his sword.

The trolls laughed derisively.

"Won't matter if you're dead before anybody finds out." The three closed in on him, giving the human no where to run.

The fellow was in a bad spot, it seemed. If he fought back, even if only in self-defense, he might indeed suffer political repercussions for having violated the rule against duels, potentially losing him royal favor in whatever dispute these two had. If he did not fight back, he might die, or worse, if he screamed for help, the king might see him as weak for having lost or avoided a fight, and that, too, might lose him favor. The king was a sometimes impulsive man who could make different decisions based on his current mood, and it was difficult to predict the consequences of any action in his eyes. One must step lightly and maneuver carefully when dealing with the Dark Lord, lest he find himself suddenly short a head.

It was time for Derwin to put an end to this now that he had more information. He stepped out from behind the lawn sculpture and cleared his throat ostentatiously. He kept his hands in his pockets and slouched in a nonchalant sort of way.

"Ho, friends. Enjoying a nice stroll around the grounds before the festivities begin?"

As one, the four heads swiveled to land on Derwin's casual approach. The trolls' expressions turned sour. Well, more sour than they usually were, Derwin thought. The human looked relieved beyond all reason.

"We was just...just...havin' a talk with our friend here. We're from the same town, see? We been friends for a long time! Ain't that right, Ammy? We's just havin' a friendly chat?"

"That..." the man cleared his throat and composed himself before going on. "Yes...That's right, Captain Shaw. We were simply discussing...mutual matters of interest to both of our families." Despite the threat to his life, the man didn't want to risk it becoming known that he'd almost been involved in an incident. Politics above everything, and such a revelation might cause problems for him later on. Very shrewd, this one...

"I see," Derwin said. He turned back to the trolls. "And I suppose you were just going to help the gardener trim the hedges with those, were you?" He gestured to the swords still held absently in the dumbstruck monsters' hands. "That's very kind of you, gentlemen, but I hear the head gardener is very strict with those who touch her specimens without permission. You know, it really wouldn't do if anyone but me saw those things and got the wrong idea, right? They might tell the King what they think you're doing, and he might not like what he hears. That kind of misunderstanding would simply be tragic, don't you agree? I'll just dispose of them for you." Derwin made a hand sign and mumbled an incantation under his breath. The swords abruptly grew red hot in the trolls' hands, and the three let out loud yelps. They flung the heated swords from now-burnt hands. The things melted into steaming piles of slag on the garden floor. He winked his one good eye at the group of four somewhat playfully. "Now, see? Aren't I nice guy, helping you out like that?"

"Uh...uh...yeah, right. Don't...don't want the king to know. Uh, thanks for the help Mr...uh...Captain Bloodwing, sir." Tremulously, the three rubbed their stinging hands on their loin cloths and sucked on burnt fingers just beginning to crust over with the pus-filled boils that come with third degree burns. "You...you won't tell him about this, will ya? The king, I mean?"

Derwin thought about it for a split second and discarded the idea just as quickly. If he said he would tell, they'd attack him, and then they'd have an incident on their hands, a bloody one, in all likelihood, which he was trying to avoid above all else. He might tell them he wouldn't and then tell the King anyway, but who knows how His Grace would react to that? Demand the duel on the spot? Demand both their executions immediately? Laugh maniacally and then demand Derwin's execution for bringing such a trifling matter before him? There was no way to know. Besides, the human had done his utmost not to let this escalate for political reasons, even putting his life at risk, and Derwin would hate to see all that hard work go to waste if he told the king. Best to let it slide and avoid issues for everyone.

That said, these four would need monitoring, and it was best to let Severa and the head servants know there might be a potential problem between them at least. They could decide how best to deal with it better than a simple knight such as himself.

"Now why would I do that, friends? No need to tell the king about old acquaintences discussing...matters of mutual interest. That's what the council today is all about after all."

"Right. That's what it's all about," the head troll repeated dumbly. "We'll be goin' now, Mr. Bloodwing, sir." They gave awkward bows--such formalities weren't usually observed by trolls, Derwin guessed--and stepped away.

The human let out a deep breath and tipped his feathered cap to Derwin. "My thanks, Sir Shaw. It seems I owe you a debt."

"Think nothing of it, milord. Just doing my duty. But if I may suggest, perhaps try not to wander into any secluded areas like this again. I can't be everywhere."

"Sound advice. I'll be sure to take it. Although..." he gave Derwin a smile, "...perhaps, being rescued by one as famous as you, this was not such a bad outcome after all, eh?"

Derwin merely rolled his eye. Such foolishness.

The man laughed. "A jest, Captain, I assure you. My name is Amadeus Grimstark. My family is responsible for the lands that border those claimed by the tribe from which those trolls hail. They've been increasingly aggressive of late and, in the last few councils, I've been doing my best to persuade the king to intervene in my family's favor. Last time, he seemed to favor our claim to the land over that of the trolls. It would have been unfortunate if this turned into an incident that might have changed his ever-shifting opinion. I thank you for your discretion in handling the matter. I won't forget it." He gave a deep bow, an act that surprised Derwin--not many nobles would humble themselves for another in such a way, not even for the Captain of the Bloodguards. A shrewd noble indeed, this Lord Grimstark. "Well then, Sir Shaw, I'll be on my way." He went back out among the masses to mingle.

Athena landed with a loud thud behind Derwin and he let out a long sigh. The first fire of the council put out without issue, but certainly it wouldn't be the last. He would have to tell Severa about this, if not the king. And he still had to patrol the castle's interior and make sure the soldiers were alert and stationed correctly. And of course, he couldn't forget about moving those soldiers from the South gate to the North. And he still wanted to maintain a presence above Blackrock for the benefit of those coming in, of course.

"A Bloodguard's work is never done," he remarked. He mounted his companion. "Come, Athena. We fly."

And off they went.

Mentioned: Avari (Severa)

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

Elazer Cainhurst & Dusk, the Third Maiden
One to Two hours time from Blackrock, from the South.


Elazer was not used to being tired. Sleep deprived, maybe, but never tired. No, tired was not a strong enough word for what he felt. Exhausted, that was it. They had spent an eternity in the hellish place, counting every moment they had, always ready to run. Well, some of them anyway. Despite saving him more times than he could count, it still felt as if Dusk was nothing more than a burden, barely responsive outside of combat or making her adorable little beasties. Not that they were useful. It truly wounded his soul as a man of the necromantic sciences to learn that little tidbit. But, that's life. Despite the Dark Maiden's lethargic nature, they were still able to obtain their prize.

Laying in the back of their half destroyed wagon, strapped down as best as possible and mostly covered with a thick woolen blanket, was an honest to the gods Abyss undead, but the real star of the show was none other than the simple Rune of Suppression placed upon it. Without that simple little bit of magic, they would surely have already died at the many, many hands of the other abyss undead. It would seem that the magical bond between the feral bastards which would normally have instantly allowed the Abyss to reclaim it's beastie by locating them was suppressed by the, well, the rune of suppression placed upon it. Honestly, the fact that no one else had figured that out was rather odd.

Then again, Elazer wasn't actually the one that had figured it out, with the real credit for the discovery going to a clever young bloodguard named Warwick. Sadly, poor Warwick met the terrible fate of accidentally being knocked off their speeding wagon into the arms of several waiting undead in order to distract them. If only the poor, hapless bastard had seen Elazer's boot in time. But the youthful Cainhurst knew, despite Warwick's terrible fate, that he would surely have wanted Elazer to never mention the bloodguard's name to anyone, ever, and thus claim all credit for the remarkable discovery himself.

But he couldn't count his undead before they had risen, as the saying went. After all, they needed to get to Blackrock with the abyss undead before any rewards could be dispensed, and that would require keeping the Rune active on it's bloody forehead, as it seemed the power of the Abyss caused their rather bad renditions of a suppression rune to degrade worryingly fast, and if they didn't reapply the rune quickly, who knows what horrible things could happen. Then there was the matter of their.... Steed, if you could call it that.

Even Elazer had to admit that it was nowhere near his best work, but it was the best he could stitch together from what was left of their horses and some of the men. It's face was a deformed mass of flesh with eyes that wasn't recognizable as man or horse, it's torso was like a half destroyed jigsaw puzzle whose pieces had been forcibly smashed together utterly out of order then taped together, it had five left hooves with a single leg from a rather obtuse bloodguard named Gerry, it's entire body was reinforced with broken pole-arms and half ruined blades, and the worst part of all was that it's bloody stitches kept popping no matter how well Elazer sewed them, so he constantly had to do quick patch jobs while still moving, which had quickly begun to prove a problem as he considered his dwindling supply of thread and needles.

But the worst part of all, in Elazer's opinion, was the splitting headache he's had since they found their captive, and that weird thought that had been popping into his head... No, it wasn't something he needed to worry about, at least not yet. Maybe he could have one of the servants do something to help him, but he doubted it. After all, they weren't of much help for Luna... No no, he mustn't think of such somber things.

He was mercifully given a distraction when a rather wet gurgle bubbled out from the lap of his sleeping companion. The... Creature she had created from what scraps of flesh were left from their unluckier comrades was stirring on the woman's lap. It was a ugly, hairless thing - unmatched skin held together by haphazard (but oddly elegant) string, and a pair of mismatched eyes. One blue and one green, which were both peering out in different directions. From its misshapen mouth a long line of drool was pooling onto her mud and blood streaked garment - once purple, now seemingly permanently stained brown.

The creature mewled again. It seemed to stir her companion from her sleep as she opened a single eye and peered around, before gently placing a comforting hand on her little pet, which spluttered quietly to itself.

"Are we not there yet?" She wondered lazily.

"Sadly no. But if I remember correctly, we should only be one or two hours out, three at the most. That is, if my creature here doesn't pop many more stitches-," Elazer would say, only to be cut off by a distinctive *POP!*, raising a deep sigh from the man as he grabbed some of his last thread and replaced the popped stitch with a mere flick of his wrist. "Wonderful, it would seem I have finally run out of thread. I don't suppose you'd be willing to part with some of yours in order to keep this stupid thing together, would you?" Elazer asked of Dusk.

The Dark Maiden slowly shook her head, absentmindedly stroking the head of the creature on her lap.

"I don-"

A slight rustle. Flesh against wood. They both turned around, suddenly alert and anxious.

"Lord Elazer, the rune!"

Of course I forgot about the rune. By the gods I'm too smart for my own good Elazer thought to himself as he whirled around to face the undead as the rune started to fade rapidly. "Same as before, Lady Dusk, please hold it's chest and head down while I reapply the rune, wouldn't want it taking a chunk out of my hand after all."

They were known as the Undead of the Abyss. And they were the reason no one had ever attempted to travel into the Dread Wastes. While other undead were simply reanimated pieces of flesh that carried out simple instruction - the Abyss was something different. Something not understood. Something... Dangerous. A hive mind. Tens of thousands of bodies working as one, an unstoppable wave of flesh and bone that consumed all in its path. It was a mercy the Abyss seemed to only be interested in keeping others out of the deeper parts of the Wastes - there was no greater horror than seeing the Abyss approaching on the horizon. A black wave taller than Blackrock itself, coming at you with the speed of a horse. And it never stopped until whoever dared trespass in its domain was dead and consumed into the hive.

Purple fire dripped out of the sunken eye sockets of the Abyss Undead, its skin a mottled and desiccated black. The rune only cut off its link to the greater hive mind, it did nothing to temper its hunger, and its rage.

Dusk was by no means the perfect travelling companion, but her colossal strength had been a true life saver during their journey. And even she had to use a not small portion of it to restrain the creature.

Elazer took his thumb, muttering the incantation as best he could whilst trying to trace the strange symbol onto the creature's forehead, even as it thrashed and attempted to bite at him. After what felt like an eternity that was actually but a few moments, the young Cainhurst would finish the incantation and the tracing at the same time, subduing the beasts bond for another short while. Wiping the black flakes of skin from the things forehead onto his already disgusting leather apron, the man would turn away, looking towards the direction in which Blackrock stood with it's mighty walls.

"I wonder what my siblings will say upon our return. No doubt some sort of praise. After all, I doubt many of them would have expected for me to get this far, let alone escape the Dread Wastes with this prize of prizes. By the gods, I didn't think I'd be able to manage this today. Of course, I wouldn't have been able to do it without your help, Lady Dusk," the Cainhurst would say, only to get nothing but the Dark Maiden's gentle breathing in response.

Elazer looked to his companion.

She was already asleep.

A gentle laugh escaped his lips as they continued onward.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Written with Avari ​

 

[Kent]

Albert Crow
Head Steward

Location: Blackrock Castle
Feelings: Looking forward to the Black Court
Interaction: Jeanne gheist
​

"It's that time of the year. " Albert said as he arrived at the busy halls where the Black Court is gonna be held. He walked to the middle of the halls and clapped once which got the attention of everybody in the room. The guards, maids, butlers, everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at Albert.

"Okay, Everybody. I want everything to be immaculate, that means absolutely no mistakes." He then smiled and cast his gaze to the servants and guards around him. With a sweet voice, he added, "We don't want the same thing to happen in the last Black Court, right?"

The people around him shivered at his last sentence. They knew very well what happened in the last Black Court. It wasn't as perfect as Albert wanted it to be and people just started disappearing for no reason at all with some of them found in the outskirts of the city and their bodies mauled by beasts. They won't even dare to suspect Albert and just thought of it as an accident.

"Now, stop gawking at me and get back to work, do your best." Albert said as his smile immediately disappeared. The servants quickly went back to their jobs and their efficiency went up as if driven by something.

As Jeanne sent the gaggle of servants scattering to their own duties, she spun on her heel and started walking back to where the Black Court would be held. She had no specific responsibilities of her own, just vague instructions to make sure everyone fulfilled their own responsibilities. As she walked, she looked around and took note of what everyone else around was doing, and because of that, saw Albert, directing the other servants in the hall.

As she approached, the head steward dismissed the other servants surrounding him, giving her a good moment to speak to him.

"Albert," Jeanne greeted him. She looked around the hall, noting the glistening floor and the immaculately arranged furniture with approval and admiration. Yes, true, the servants did the heavy lifting and the table setting and the cleaning, but without the head steward and his instructions, they'd be naught but headless chickens running around with no sense of direction. (And of course, her dear Lady Severa's leadership should not be discounted.)

"Ah, Jeanne." Albert smiled in greeting at his protégé. This girl has always fascinated him as she seemed to stand out from the other boring and lifeless servants, aside from his marionettes of course. She showed keen interest in intelligence gathering and always try to make use of her knowledge unlike the other maids who only know how to gossip. It's exactly her enthusiasm and diligence that caught his eye which resulted in him mentoring the girl. "I assume you were with Severa, that's good. As the Heir Apparent of Cainhurst, it is only natural for her to lead."

"The dining hall looks splendid. It looks like the Black Court will go off without a hitch this year." A thoughtful pause. "Hopefully," she added.

He then looked around the halls again in response to Jeanne's compliments and only nodded. "It is only natural. As for how the event would ultimately go, we will never know. The only thing we can do is to minimize and control the variables, direct the scene to achieve the ending that we want."

Jeanne slanted a look around. Everyone seemed busy, and no one seemed to be eavesdropping. "Any threats we should be looking out for, sir?" she asked in a low, serene tone as if simply asking about the weather.

"Caution is good, but you don't have to worry about someone eavesdropping with me here. " Albert chuckled in response to Jeanne's actions and question. Her inquisitive nature never failed to impress him. "Everyone can be a threat so we look out everywhere, it is a matter of who we focus our efforts to. I assume Severa asked for the copies of the background checks of the attendees, what do you think of them?"

Jeanne pursed her lip and looked around in thought. "Well, you're correct in that everyone can be a threat," she replied slowly, still thinking. "I suppose the higher nobles have more to lose, so they'll be less likely to try anything. They've spent so long cultivating their position, it would be unwise to risk all of that for an attempt that would likely fail."

"The nobles on the bottom tier of the spectrum, however, have so little power they can't even make an attempt in the first place. They're too busy trying to survive."

She looked at him, head cocked to the side. "Of course, the ones in the middle have little to lose and much to gain." And this was why she asked. Jeanne, by her own stiffly regretful admission, was not too great at thinking on her own unless it was for the benefit of one of her dear masters and mistresses. But once someone set her on the right track...she could generally keep up.

"Nobles are nobles, whether they be in the bottom, middle, or top. They have their desires and interest. You could view them as beasts out in the wild, if you have something they want and you show weakness, they will bite." Albert said trying to teach Jeanne a lesson. He was referring to the nobles as beast and power being what they seek. She looked at him with wide, attentive eyes, her demeanor still serene as usual but with a mindful air to it as she listened. "Now, what do you do with these beasts? You domesticate them, overwhelm them with your power but always keep in mind that they are still beasts no matter how docile they present themselves to be."

Albert then tapped his rod in the ground and looked at Jeanne with a smile. "I believe we still have much to do to prepare for the event, let us end our discussion here."

She smiled back politely, automatically, and curtsied. Still serene, still attentive. "Of course. Thank you, Albert. I'll leave you to your duties." And Jeanne left the hall, papers and duties in hand, thinking of nobles and beasts and power, power Blackrock Castle had and power everyone seemed to crave.

Co-Written with Gheist
​

​

 

[NoQuillToLive]

Klyn Cainhurt, Runemaster,

Dignity wasn't always with the Cainhurst children, perhaps just one, as Klyn pushed his back against the black stone, one arm entwined around the captivating company that was tiptoeing into his waiting hands. She was a delicate thing, a servant, pliable to the charms of the youngest son, lord, draped all over him like an expensive cloth. The pair were nestled behind the pillar, arching his spine and fingers, gently playing a seductive tune against her skin and she radiated with light laughter, bellowing from her throat as she wiggled into each touch. It was a suitable game for him, how long can the chase be? How much before another ultimately embraces his arms? It was thrilling— his crimson hair tussled and tunic, buttons were undone slightly down to his chest, each button, gleaming underneath the flickering lights that were adorned along the walls, scones, he mused upon his placement, moving his head down to catch just another kiss before separating himself from his delightful bird. She was caught by his gaze, her wings, extending back, gingerly, forlorn to be apart from the runemaster, but Klyn had a saying, never strike twice. "Time's up," He winked, smoothing his hand down against his shoulder, there was too much chaos to be afforded a private moment.

"Lord Klyn, one day your behaviour will get you in trouble," The servant chided, brushing her hair down and quickly, but efficiently trying to make herself representable like she hadn't been holed up with one of the Cainhurt children— such knowledge would ride the castle and break at the seams, but Klyn was never the one for any such formality. A wilded seed that refused to be grown to the perilous ways of Hollowvale, no, digging his roots into places one wouldn't normally find on the behest of his own wild whims were indeed a dangerous game. The castle was in a frenzy, likely organized by his older sister and convoyed with the more experienced members, corralling every available member into some type of uniform squad.

To set the stage for the upcoming show of prosperity and affluence, a profusion of opulence that signified strength and status— Klyn knew, somewhere in his egotistical brain he should have been doing something, assist somewhere, but the fluttering gaze of a pretty lade make him weak and thus, the pair had committed some type of ahem, the atrocity in the hallway, underneath the judgemental gazes of the paintings. A few minutes to be snatched away during the day, a secluded hallway that didn't connect to much but the passing interaction instilled some fire in his veins, paired with a frightening expression that was tightly contained within a boisterous smirk. "Trouble is all but a variety of fun," He responded in kind, holding no air fo remorse on what he had done.

"Hm, would you be so confident to say as such in front of your older siblings?" The servant pelted back, winding her fingers around her tresses, pulling that back into a bun. Klyn did have to give some pause to that, leaning his hip against the brick and his smirk, lightened by a dash—

There was some truth to there, there were few people to pull him back.

"There are just people you don't cross in this lifetime," There were few people that he wouldn't— his siblings naturally were selective and what friends were possible with his devilish personality. "Let us go, shall we? I am sure there is somewhere else to have fun," The maid huffed tiredly, a rendezvous with Lord Klyn was looking to be a mistake and even suggestively glancing to him had led to this. She did have the audacity to preserve a tendril of shame, holding her head low and walking out with Klyn, quickly to join the rest of the working force in the castle and hoped this would remain a dark secret.

--

Location; Blackrock Castle - a hallway somewhere.
Interactions; None [Open]

 

[WillfulWren]

Clarisse Laxei
On the way to Blackrock
Avari (Lady Fray - NPC)​

The creaking of carriage wheels made a good accompaniment to deep thought as the half-vampire stared out the window, pale violet eyes fixed on some imaginary curiosity far off in the distance, fangs gnawing at her bottom lip.

The Black Court - she'd never been able to attend, but she had heard about it. Who hadn't? A gathering of all the most influential people (and creatures, of course) in Hollowvale, all scrapping for the smallest bit of attention from their Dark Lord. A dangerous place, even with the strict rules against violence. Alliances could be made and broken, favour gained and lost. And no one wanted to lose Ulfric's favour.

Clarisse shuddered at the thought, a motion that the casual observer could have taken for a shiver of cold before wondering if vampires - or half-vampires, for that matter - could even get cold. For a moment, she turned her attention to fiddling with the bell sleeves of her dress rather than looking out the window. The dress was pristine white, the picture of innocence, but strategically slashed in several places so that bloody red fabric sewn underneath could be seen. She had found it funny.

Noise from outside drew her attention back to the window, craning her neck to see only to smile (mouth closed, of course, one couldn't keep up an illusion of innocence with a predator's fangs on display) as she caught sight of dark spires.

"My lady," Addressing her travelling companion with something approaching humility, eyes slightly lowered, "I believe we're almost at the castle. Is there anything we need to go over before we arrive?" She wanted to be sure she fully understood the lady's plans before taking a step within the walls of Blackrock.

Lady Fray turned her attention from the passing scenary of the carriage after a few moments, seemingly not quite sure if Clarisse had said something. She was wearing her noble regalia and a lavish crimson robe that was both traditional and fashionable. Black lotus flowers and orchids were woven intricately into her chestnut red hair and she was wearing a bit too much makeup, giving her pale skin a rather caked on appearence.

"Oh I'm sorry sweet thing did you say something?"

"I...I was just saying that the castle of Blackrock is now in sight." Clarisse said. For a moment, it had seemed as though a shadow of annoyance had crossed her face, but her pleasant smile was soon back in place. "I was wondering if there was anything we needed to discuss before we arrive?"

Fray's smile widened for a moment. Not exactly in a kind way, more in that sort of condescending expression one might save for explaining something ever so simple to a young child.

"Oh Blackrock is very pretty. I think you'll certainly find it quite the sight! And the servants are all so nice. The Cainhursts are old family friends you know. Why, the Dark Lord himself has stayed at my home several times over the years! But don't you worry, they'll be no need to be shy. You just stand and look as cute as you are now and I'm sure they'll adore you."

Perhaps twenty or thirty years ago, when the impetuous nature and impulsivity of youth had held the half-vampire she would have hissed, eyes flaring red but now if anything her pleasant smile merely widened. "Of course. Standing around looking cute is one of my specialities, after all." She leans forward slightly, before asking, "There was one more thing I was wondering about if my lady would be so kind as to answer... There was a hooded man at the estate earlier, and he didn't seem like a servant or one of the usual visitors... Of course, it's really no business of mine-"

"You're right my dear it really is none of your business." Lady Fray interjected, her tone still light but now unmistabkly a little strained. "It's awful manners to listen to ones conversations you know."

She sighed dramatically.

"But I suppose it's not to be helped, given your terrible nature. You're just not used to how things work here in Hollowvale yet, that's all. Don't you worry my sweet, I'll make you into a proper lady in time. Yes...that's what we'll do. It'll be such fun! Actually..." The flower covered noble seemed to consider for a moment.

"I can't always help overhearing conversations when people forget how well I hear - but rest assured I didn't stay around to hear anything. I caught a glimpse, nothing more."

"--you know, the youngest of the Cainhurst children - her name is Noire." Fray continued a little louder as if Clarisse hadn't said anything. "She's just like you, so young and isolated from the world. Such a cute little thing. You should see if you can find her while we're in Blackrock! Yes. That would be good. You need a friend to play with."

"The youngest," Clarisse repeated, then sighed, leaning back and going back to staring out the window. Sometimes she really felt like the Lady thought of her as a child and yet...It couldn't be helped. A shame, she really did rather dislike children.

 

[koala]

Seldanna & Asherah

Location: Near the main entrance of Blackrock
Written with: Ghostiiys​

The days that led up to the Black court made Seldanna extremely nervous, it was not because she was in any sort of danger, but more so the fact of seeing a bunch of bootlickers crammed into one area always made the poor, dark elf tire quickly. Peering out of a towering arch window, she could see an abundance of carriges, each and every one of them over dressed.

Seldanna always heard of the term fashionably late, but with the long lines of horse drawn vehicles trailing all the way out of view, she could not imagine how many more people would arrive.

The "fashionably late ones."

"Do you ever wonder what the point of us being here is Asherah?" The woman asked , but still looking outside. "Honestly, with the amount of Blood guards patrolling we could host a party just for them!" She exhaled rather annoyed with the thought.

Although she would not say that in front of the Cainhurst children , or even Ulfric himself. But Seldanna knew the odds of them having to protect any of them where very slim. However, an upside was Seldanna gorging herself on food and drink.

Asherah's laugh was light, and laced with a drop of amusement at the matter. Her red eyes glanced at Seldanna through a mirror as she checked her appearance for the fifth time, body turning to the side to admire herself. The black maid's dress hugged her curves a bit too tightly, enough that certain noblemen would likely pause to look a second too long. It was a game for her, almost. She relished in being able to root out the weak-willed ones--the ones that were disloyal, even to their wives. It was how she vetted people and determined who needed more of her attention.

"I try not to wonder," the dragoness replied. Her voice was sultry yet pleasant to the ears, as though she'd trained herself to speak in such an alluring manner for years. "Wonder leads to disappointment, and I've already experienced far too many disappointments in my life."

"But if I must answer your question-" Asherah moved to adjust Seldanna's collar and apron, "-we're here because Lucrezia says so." Her plump lips curved upwards at her own teasing remark and she hummed. "Now come, my dear Selly. We have guests to greet and nobles to keep separated."

Upon hearing Asherah call her Selly , Seldanna eased up a bit. Whenever Seldanna thought about her usefulness in any sort of context it made her tense.

"Oh hooray us." Seldanna said sarcastically, in a joking tone.

She looked at herself one last time , just to make her she did not have any stray hairs or even a wrinkled sleeve, Seldanna was prone to not making sure she looked well enough to be the face of Blackrock.

Her and Asherah walked some distance to the main enterance door, the hallways as always were spotless, when one servant finished sweeping another one would inspect it just to make sure. Blackrock court especially must of been extremely nerve-wracking for all lower residents , any mistakes could be their last.

"Well" Seldanna said pausing for a moment as they reached the main door. "Anyone you may be expecting today Ash?"

"Yes, actually." Asherah was humming again, a twinkle in her eye as she thought of a very specific person. He was a tall and built man, and though no one had ever really seen his face, he was probably handsome beneath that bone mask of his. "Aside from Lord Sepulcher X, no one in particular. I find most of the nobles to be... quite boring."

The woman's posture seemed to change slightly once they arrived at the entrance, a familiar face emerging through the doorway. Asherah turned to Seldanna slightly, lips still curved even though her words were hollow and cold. "I almost forgot Lord Havelock. A pedophile. Ensure he stays far away from Lady Noire."

Seldanna nodded, she should of felt appalled that such a man was even allowed to step within miles of Blackrock castle , however she knew he would get his comeuppance. There where so many nobles who attended these events with records upon records of crimes they have committed, she should not of felt so surprised.

"I suppose this is going to be the last time we can converse to each so thoroughly. Seldanna said as she looked threw her head back and groaned, she ran her fingers through her hair and exhaled before looking at Asherah.

The dark elf placed her hand on the door, as if in a feeble attempt to barricade it. At times like these she could feel her introvertism screaming for the sweet release of death.

"Well, I do wish you luck Asherah, I know I am going to need it."

Asherah's grin was wolfish, a dainty hand on the other door handle before both women opened them to allow some of the first guests to pass through. "Have fun, Seldanna. That's what I do."

 

[Corvid15]

Lucian Cainhurst
The All Knowing Cainhurst
Blackrock Castle
Interactions: Avari
Mentions: Kent
​

Ah, the Black Court meeting. A tedious time of year really. All Lucian ever gets asked by nobles is if he can read their future, or what fate has in store for them. He charges a little coin for it, depending on who it is. It was always heal me this, or help me that. Never any actual conversations.

Last night was beautifully clear, and he had had a premonition. Protect Noire. Well, he always protected his siblings. But there was something different about today. The stars would not stop talking last night. The voices of the Council of 22 were still in his head, still talking.

Gliding around the castle, Lucian took everything in. Beautiful. Lucian never walked, he only floated. One use of his otherworldly powers he loved: not leaving a trace. Appear and dissapear. Albert loved it, as he never dirtied the floors. Andromeda sat on his shoulder as she always did.

Catching Severa out of the corner of his eye, Lucian appeared infront of her, booping her nose.

"Severa, the stars speak, but not how they should about tonight. It troubles me, their voices still are speaking, murmuring. Things will not go as planned. Havelock is an issue. He takes elderberry wine. This will be important."

"I will warn Albert as I have warned you."

 

[Refaulted]

Two maids, living servants of the royal family, were striding with an air of importance down the extravagantly dim hallways of the great castle, each step mingling with the shuffling of the undead servants as they lumbered around with cleaning instruments, filling out their roles with diligence hard to find in those with still beating hearts. The windows that lined the hall let in just enough light to see without the need for a candle or torch, showing tapestry depicting important moments from the history of the great nation of Hollowvale, with mages raising hordes of undead, great fights with neighboring countries, and more than one depicting the greatness of one Lord Ulfric Cainhurst.

One of the maids, a younger one with rust-colored hair, let out a sigh as she ran a hand over her dress, brushing some cobwebs off to the floor where an undead immediately made their way to pick it up, molding hands the home to a few almost visible critters. She stared out the windows, looking at all the carriages arriving in troves. "Honestly, I don't see the point of gathering all the nobles and families of all of Hollowvale to one place. Most of the time there's a handful of them we have to clean up off the floors because they just had to say some choice words to the wrong crowd." Another sharp exhale of breath as she turned to her companion. "What a life, right?"

The second maid, older with graying hair braided in with her golden locks and a nose just slightly bent out of shape, kept her eyes facing forward, barely paying attention to her junior, only there to serve her duty to the royal family, and nothing else. "Mhm..."

"And of course, they stick us with having to fetch Lord Helmfried. Almost no one can ever find him, yet he still shows up exactly where he needs to go without having to be told a word. What's the point of even sending us? To make us seem busy?" She took a moment to take in her surroundings, making sure no prying eyes were on her, and when she was confident there was none to be worried about, she resumed her rant. "I swear, the entirety of the Cainhurst children are some of the most difficult people to serve. What use do they have for us when they can conjure up whatever undead they need to do their bidding for them?"

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Mhm..."

Eventually, they came upon their destination. A large double door, made of gray wood from the forests near Crowhaven, wide enough to fit an entire carriage through if need be. Next to the door was a small metal slot, large enough to allow letters and other documents through if needed. Of course, nothing could fit through because it was already stuffed to the brim with envelopes going in and out, none marked with a sender or receiver. The young maid stared at it. "Honestly, Lord Helmfried is probably the one that scares me the most, aside from Lady Severa. I've never even met him in person, only seen him when he is summoned by the Dark Lord."

"Mhm..."

The young woman glared at the older maid as she walked to the door. "I swear one day I will make you say a word to me." She knocked three times in quick succession, then the two of them waited patiently for an answer. But as the minutes passed, none came. Not even the sound of rustling papers or clothes, just utter silence. The young maid knocked once more, louder this time, and it echoed down the halls around them, then resuming her stiff stance, trying not to seem aggravated. More minutes passed, but still there was no sign of life from within those large doors. Turning a glare to her companion, the young maid spoke once more. "What's the likelihood he's dead in there?"

"I'd say pretty unlikely."

The young maid jumped at the deep voice from behind her, echoing off her bones and shaking her to her core as she spun around, her hand flying up to clutch her chest in surprise. Standing there was a man of slightly darker skin, contrary to the pale complexion of most of Hollowvale's citizens. His hair was a wild mess, jumping in almost all direction if not for the poor job of running some fingers through it to straighten it out, though his facial hair seemed to have been freshly trimmed, kept close to his skin. He wore a beige undershirt with the neck untied, revealing unkempt hairs sprouting from his chest, and he wore cloth dress pants that were cuffed closer to the knees, leaving his calves and his bare feet completely exposed. In one hand he held an apple, the bright red and green contrasting against the entirety of the scenery. In his other hand, he held a cloth sack stained red towards the bottom, a single drop of blood dripping down onto the floor next to him.

Helmfried Cainhurst smiled, it seeming almost devilish in the dim light that bounced off his face. "Then again, that's only my opinion."

Helmfried Cainhurst

"L-Lord Helmfried! I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but your sister is-"

"Looking for me? Why, am I hard to find?" He rubbed the apple on his shirt as he bent down into the young maid's face. "Why come find me since I always show up wherever I'm needed, right? I just miraculously appear when I'm needed, like some sort of dog, right?" Each word he spoke he put just a bit of extra enunciation on, as if he was thrusting the tip of a dagger into her with each syllable. He lifted the apple he held to his mouth painfully slow, keeping his eyes on his target's face, practically hearing the young girl's heartbeats as it pounded in her breast. "I do commend how...brave you are to find me, though, miss." He took a bite, the crunching noise rippling through the tense air.

"Y-you heard all th-that, my l-lord?"

She was practically shaking in her boots, which Helmfried noticed, the beads of sweat forming on her forehead falling slowly as he chewed on the apple. He leaned in closer, and he could feel her wanting to back off. "Oh indeed I did. You know, you should really be more alert to what's around you. You never know when someone may, oh, I dunno..." He stood back up and lumbered around her, staring at her as the hairs on her neck stood up. "...come up behind you when you aren't expecting it..." He took another bite out of the apple before tossing it to the older maid, who caught it rather quickly. "...and just think how beautiful your skin is, and how frail and gentle your neck seems..." He reached a hand up and gently wrapped his fingers around her neck, allowing them to hang there, not gripping them in the slightest. He couldn't even feel her breathing. "...and they would just think how easy it would be to tear and twist it all, staining the ground with you, making you into art..." He rubbed a thumb around the base of the back of her hairline, feeling the shivers begin to start.

And suddenly, he moved his hand to her shoulder and leaned over it, the scarily calm look he had just worn now gone, replaced by a polite, almost jovial grin. "Of course, thankfully there aren't any people like that in the castle! It would be a shame if that were the case, but you are completely safe here. Thankfully it was just little ole me, grabbing a snack and coming back to get ready for the court tonight." He patted her shoulder, before his face contorted into a confused one. He lifted his free hand to his mouth, sticking in a few fingers and rummaging around inside, before he pulled them out, covered in saliva, yet more importantly holding a worm, thrashing around in his grasp. He stared at it for a moment, before opening up the bag he held and dropping it inside, closing it tightly, but not before a pungent odor escaped. He looked up to the two maids, the young one, staring towards the floor while the blonde looked at him calmly, giving them both a friendly smile. "Now, I won't keep you two, because I'm sure there is much to be done still, knowing my sister. If you see her, let her know I'm getting ready, and will come around once I'm finished with my...preparations. Off you go, ladies!" He gave them a rather feminine wave as they turned and shuffled off, not turning back to look at him once.

When he was sure they were gone, he looked towards a potted plant nearby, walking towards it and spitting into it, wiping off his tongue with the back of his hand. He was rather proud of how that had gone, and was excited to try it one some other living servants to see how they would take it. The blonde maid had seen some of his antics before, so he wasn't able to fool her, but he smiled at how the younger maid's face had twisted into fear. He strutted over to the window to look outside at the carriages arriving, looking for any he recognized distinctly, but couldn't make out any interesting parties, and so turned back towards the doors that led into his room, pulling them open and waltzing inside, shutting them quickly with a dull thud.

An hour later, Helmfried was wandering back down the hallways, dressed more appropriately. He wore a deep purple overcoat over a gray shirt and his undershirt, along with dull yellow cloth pants and purple boots that matched his overcoat. His hair looked better, some light grease put in it to make it stay easier and not sway around as he briskly made his way to entrance hall, waving to each servant he passed as he did so, getting either confused looks and timid bows or full bows and mumbles of greetings from others.

Upon reaching the great hall, he saw some groups mingling in predetermined cliques, only wanting to speak to similarly minded individuals. All rather boring, as far as Helmfried was concerned, as someone could only really get the best idea of a situation by hearing it from all viewpoints. Stubbornness had it's charms at times, but a vision too narrow would only cause problems for all parties involved, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. Helmfried just took a deep breath, allowing him a moment to relax before he had to deal with ignorant fools in his own home, before he put on his polite smile. He just hoped that if he couldn't be saved by one of his siblings, he could find some decent company for the night that could help him stave off his urges to return to his work.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Lord Shizuka Gozen & Lord Sepulcher X
Blackrock Castle
Interacted & Written With: IG42​

Coming to a halt in the courtyard, Shizuka waited as his creations lowered the opulent palanquin to the ground then stepped out giving the various horses, alive and undead a look of mild disdain. Desiring to put on a show of his abilities he had used a set of his own chimeras to bear him to court, while the heads were those of horses they were decorated by deer antlers, the upper torsos were those bears of with powerful gorilla arms to carry him, below the waist each had body of a white tiger in a centaur-like configuration with the tails replaced with the an extravagant fan of peacock feathers. Lighting his pipe with a pinch of fire magic he took in a lungful of smoke while laying a hand on the flank of one of the bearers feeling it's breath and the rhythm of it's two hearts, let the others play with their empty undead puppets dragging themselves about trying to keep the flesh from dropping off their bones he thought to himself what he had was true art. Hearing a questioning trill at his side he glanced down at the smaller creature next to him as it stared up at him with all four of it's eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke he lightly stroked the head of it's snake tail that reached up towards him.

"You're right as always Nue, time to go."

Contrary to common beliefs that borne of the moniker "Dreadmoor", the region was as colorful as from when the current Lord had left it two decades ago. A sojourn of three days were fleeting at best, and now the necromancer was on his way back to Blackrock Castle for the Black Court gathering. The Tenth successor of the Sepulcher lineage, Sepulcher X bore the responsibility of his position in court since a young age at the behest of his father, Lord Sepulcher IX. At the tender age of ten, he was inducted into the relentless politics of the court. Even now, he despised his father for it. But like those before him, Sep stuck to traditions and buried his father proper in Dreadmoor, along with his father's visions for him. During his short stay in Dreadmoor, Sep tended to his great grandmother, Lady Sepulcher V's Garden. One of the few things that kept him sane amidst the bureaucrats of Blackrock Castle was the unspoken beauty of flowers. After all, it was her efforts that inspired Sep to take up botany, aside from his responsibilities for the skeletal undeads that formed a portion of Hollowvale's defenses. Even an influential noble as he must take up hobbies to spare him from the insufferable talks of politics. After a long midnight ride, Sepulcher cast his thoughts aside and put on his skull mask once again. Cladded in his armor and dark robes for the occasion, Sep had made sure to keep his hands free. His sword was taken to his designated office, of which had been his home two decades since. Once a storage area, Sep took the liberty to renovate it with bookshelves and a hammock. A simple cell for a prisoner of simple tastes.

It was time for the necromancer to put on his facade as expected of a noble. His botanist self would be safely locked behind his mask, for the court was the wild frontier under the guise of refined gentry and fraud smiles. The Bloodguards were as busy with their vigilant glances as the household servants were with their expedited steps across the castle premises. Unlike the other nobles that assert themselves, Sep fell under the reticent category. Where others talked their way into court, Sep was simply diverting his energy and efforts for the last twenty years in producing skeletal undeads for his master. He had to frequent the field from time to time to prospect locales for skeleton-raising operations. An abandoned cemetery was ideal, but battle sites were optimal. In his work, it was more about making sure that the skeletons were of common backgrounds, than it was of quality conjuration. Sep often worked with the local scholars to return noble corpses back to their family. An archeologist, a botanist, but a prioritized necromancer. Rather than simply raising the dead, even the smallest mistake could come back to bite him in court pertaining to the other gentry that wants nothing more than to cut off one of their possible rivals. In his line of work, necromancy was both a social and physical endeavor. But thankfully, skeleton armies requires less intricate details than that of the streamlined zombies and flesh-driven amalgamation.

Hopefully, Sep did not have to run into some unwanted company, he contemplated.

Sep sighed slightly before making eye contact with a certain horned individual that stood across from him in the hall. He had a certain glare that kept most at bay, accompanied by his smoking pipe. Sep recalled his name, Lord Shizuka Gozen of Dawnfall. Not much for words between them many times before. The man seems endowed with extensive knowledge pertaining to the conjuration of beasts and the likes. Luckily, Sep have yet to get on his bad side, especially when they were subjected to different fields of necromancy.

"Lord Gozen. I take it your journey has been fair and well?" Sep greeted Shizuka. His deep voice announced his presence.

Within the grand hall, Shizuka had been taking a moment to admire the high vaulted ceilings in between greeting the various lords and ladies of the court when Sepulchre approached him, the others he was slightly amused that the others he had spoken to had seemed put off by Nue being at his side despite the many undead in the room. Looking up at the skull mask he wondered not for the first time if he should find a way to make himself taller but decided it would be more trouble than it was worth and send the message that his height made him feel inadequate.

"My Lord Sepulchre. It has been indeed, not relying on wheels to travel does make rougher terrain less of an impediment." He took a relaxed puff of his pipe.

"My it has been some time since we last spoke hasn't it? Tell me how fares Dreadmoor? It wouldn't do to be ignorant of our fellow border stronghold."

Lord Gozen was first and foremost a necromancer, it was not a foreign idea that the man had taken liberty to accommodate for himself a different method of transportation that set him apart from the other nobles. At least that was how Sep had deemed it.

"Yer gift with chimeras is most unorthodox, Lord Gozen. But nevertheless, an intriguing field of study..." Sep remarked.

"Dreadmoor has always been and will always be vigilant, my lord. Nightshades are in good order for shipments, and I have taken the liberty of sowing the western end of the Garden with crimsonroots. It alleviates asthma and offers a very pleasant aroma upon embers." Sep unfurled his open hand, gesturing towards Gozen's pipes.

"If ye ken a way to brave my home-grown crimsonroots, perhaps I shall have some sent to ye on the next harvest, my Lord. Hahaha!" he chuckled slightly before turning towards Gozen's Nue.

"The crimsonroot does sound intriguing, if worst comes to worst I'll make sure to have some spare lungs on hand." he took another draw on his pipe wondering what the smoke of the new root might taste like.

Sep chuckled aloud at Gozen's mention of his lungs. The thought of someone as esteemed as Gozen, albeit enigmatic in his agendas, is willing to take up Sep's offer regarding his crimsonroot was more than enough to keep the man content.

"I had ta bury me dog a few days past. Poor Sapper had gotten himself eaten up by some sort of cartilage leeches. I'm set on procuring for him a new body, but tah danna feel the same as his old bone structures, ye ken?" Sep sighed slightly, then shook his head.

"Say, Lord Gozen, what 'bout yer field of work? I am interested to hear yer alternative intrigues than that of daggered smiles around here. I am none the keener with false words than I am with the ladies."

Sep eyed the other gentries around him, then folded his arms. He studied Gozen's eyes, then drew a long breath. Not one for politics, Sep's mouthful of his personal intrigues were all that he could muster for a small talk. Aside from his thoughts on the subject, Sep was hoping to find some common grounds with the beastmaster. He had hoped to learn some things from the man, as they have always kept a certain distance at court due to their different line of work. But even the dedicated scholars must find time and efforts to gauge their fellow court attendants' thoughts. To Sep, Gozen did not pose a threat to him, even if they both had their guards up. For the skull-masked necromancer, it was a natural instinct to engage with Gozen to abide by his time. The latter did not strike Sep as someone who would undermine his work. After all, Sep was as influential as he was besides the curtain - far from the spotlight of the Black Court's tragicomedic stage. Shizuka's polite smile turned a little more genuine at the conversation, while some Hinokahn herbs could be grown around Dawnfall there wasn't enough to avoid going to black marketers for more.

"A shame about your pet. Perhaps you should consider adding a skin of sorts to the skeletons you want to last, some well treated hides would be more than sufficient I would think."

As the conversation turned to Shizuka's studies he almost relaxed a little finding that the masked man's behaviour seemed to be lining up with what he had previously gathered, that Lord Sepulcher X was a man who preferred to immerse himself in his magics rather than political manoeuvring assuming it wasn't all a facade of course.

"Most profound, Lord Gozen. As a skeletal practitioner, I must say that such elementary factor had eluded me. As expected of a well-versed necromancer!" Sep quickly withdrew a grimoire from beneath his armor and jotted down the Oni's words.

"Always glad when someone takes an interest, while necromancy is useful it sometimes seems like it's the only art anyone practices simply because it's not forbidden here."

He lent an ear to Gozen's words, and nodded here and there. The man had a point. Skeletal undeads were prone to many weaknesses that made them less-sought after by necromancers. They were meant to be raised as en-masse cannon-fodders - the distinct profession that carried the earnest names of the Sepulchers.

"Aye. Perhaps we should all take a course in botany. I'm sure Hollowvale will see more colorful days. Hahaha!" Sep remarked after Gozen's latter comment, followed by an earnest laugh. It seems Sep had failed to contain his inner zeal for flowers.

Yet, beneath his words, were subtle indication of the gloomy appearance that the Black Court has seen of late. A certain truth that he holds only to himself, while slyly insert his own opinions on the eyes around them. Like Gozen stated, simply partaking to belong is indeed one of the offset factors that contradict the traditions of necromancy. Knowledge was once an essential element and reasoning to pursue necromancy, but now it had seemed to be of common talks, despite interest and passion. Perhaps the residents of Hollowvale were becoming desensitized, or maybe they have always sought to procure a name for themselves via the common norms that was the raising of the dead. Often times, Sep had always pondered upon the subject of the kingdom's social integrity. He could not judge others, for he had only dwelled within these walls for twenty years, while the deep-rooted legacy of Blackrock, and perhaps all of Hollowvale, was built upon by countless hands and bodies before him. As for his dog's recent death, it brought about a certain ominous feeling since his departure from Dreadmoor. Surely, for a necromancer, it posed no difficulty for Sep to simply resurrect Sapper. But there resided a certain odd feeling deep in his guts - one that sent chills down his spine. For a man who worked with bones throughout his entire life, it was a peculiarly estranged sensation. Perhaps with time he could decipher these sentiments, that was to say if he even made it out of the Black Court gathering. But for now, Gozen proved to be a prudent face. That was until the pleasant scent of apple ciders and citrus zest that dispelled any sort of restraint the man had.

"I look forward to our future discourse, Lord Gozen. Perhaps we could remedy much of Hollowvale's adversity with our mutual intrigues." Sep said, with his hand over his chest as a gentrified salute, as he receded his steps backwards, then a straight turn towards the refreshments.

An indication of interests to sought after the Oni where their line of work were aligned, accompanied by a certain stare at Gozen's Nue. It was an interesting creature, to say the least. Odd to the eyes of someone who works solely with bones, but fascinating to Sep. Like his Nue's form, Gozen words may carry more than what he meant. But to Sep, he was a decent person to start the day's chat at Blackrock thus far. They parted ways, with Sep scurrying for the fruity aroma that tempted him since his arrival. Hopefully, he was not mistaking Dark Maiden Sorrell's perfume for the zest-topped creme brulees ( koala ). For some reason, his usually-keen nose tends to fail him around her, despite being a self-proclaimed botanist. Or perhaps he was simply absent-minded per usual.

 

[Avari]

LADY LUCREZIA​

Lucrezia stalked towards one of the high balconies overlooking Blackrock's gigantic entrance hall wearing a black dress, plain and severe - more suited for a funeral than a celebration. The look only exaggerated her natural beauty however; her flawless pearl white skin, her luxurious raven black hair, her piercing serpentine yellow eyes...anything else would simply distract from her features. Let the others cover themselves in shining baubles and tacky jewelry - it only served to make them look insecure and desperate for acknowledgement as far as the Sorceress was concerned.

She was content to allow herself to relax for a moment. She had been in the Dark Lord's company until the early hours of the morning, ironing out the final details of tonights upcoming performance. He had told both her and Crow that he trusted them to fulfill their roles perfectly - and it was a rare privilege to have the Dark Lord's trust. It was an easy and unforgivable crime to betray it. A crime punishable by more than just death.

She glanced back down at the room below. Scattered about the entrance hall were the usual contingent of Dark Mages and nobles, their spouses, and the occasional offspring that was old and discreet enough to attend. Lucrezia noted with a small chuckle of mockery that most of the noble couples clung together with pseudo affection and the stony civility of those in arranged marriages - trophy wives and their considerably older husbands.

They performed their usual routines of subtle insults, subtler alliances, less than subtle boasting and invitations into various political dalliances mixed with menial small talk and Lucrezia was content to simply observe for a while, picking out the few that were of personal interest to either herself or her master. She noted with some curiosity that Lord Sepulcher X and Lord Gozen seemed to have arrived together - a strange pair. The runt of the Oni and a man so unlike his father, but Hollowvale made strange bedfellows.

Speaking of, where was Lady Fray and that rumored new little pet of hers? The woman was always one of the first to arrive, eager to please - even more eager to appear useful, terrified perhaps that the recent death of her husband had lessened her influence in the eyes of others. Lucrezia considered for a moment sending out Ash to ascertain her location - but sending one of her own Maidens after such a trifle of a woman didn't sit well with her....

The Dark Maiden's thoughts were suddenly scattered every which way by the sound of frantic, approaching footsteps. She glanced up to see Severa Cainhurst practically running straight at her, and Lucrezia only had time to raise her eyebrows before the she was set upon.

"By the Gods, Lucrezia I have been looking for you everywhere! My dear sweet baby little-"

"Lady Seve-"

"-darling innocent sister is-"

Lucrezia promptly grabbed the hysterical Cainhurst gently by her shoulders to calm her down. It was always an incredible sight to see - Severa Cainhurst, The Spider Lily of Hollowvale, a woman that Lucrezia had seen cut down four armed men in seconds without a moment's hesitation or a flicker of pity was looking like she was about to cry,

"My Lady, please calm yourself. What has happened?"

The red headed Cainhurst took a deep breath, Lucrezia's insistent touch seemed to have mercifully stopped her spiraling further.

"My brother Lucian said Noire is in danger. He said he saw-"

"It in the stars, yes." Lucrezia forced a calm and kind smile onto her face. At least she hoped it was a smile, not a grimace. It was hard to tell sometimes. "My Lady, with respect Lord Lucian has many - many - of these visions. Do you recall the time he told Lord Helmfried that a terrible fate was to befall him and you insisted on locking him in his room with an armed guard?"

Severa practically twitched, she was biting her lower lip so hard that she was almost drawing blood. Lucrezia sighed dramatically, she had privately wondered if Lord Helmfried's terrible fate had in fact been to be locked inside his study for the entire night.

"If it would please you, I could station one of the Maidens as her personal protector for the evening?"

The Spider Lily's expression became ever more strained. The Elf made a show of consideration for a moment, it was always a idea to pretend you were performing a huge favor for someone, even if you weren't.

"...Would you prefer if I saw to Lady Noire's protection myself, My Lady?"

Severa instantly darted forward and brought Lucrezia into a stifling embrace. She smelt of jasmine and lavender. "Oh, that would be wonderful Lucrezia. I am so grateful!"

Lucrezia attempted to say something to the effect of "Think nothing of it" but it was difficult to tell as her face was being squeezed into Severa's chest.

Asherah would be rather jealous she thought to herself for a moment.

--

Mentioned: Corvid15 koala WillfulWren Pilgrim59 Refaulted UltrAiron

 

[MagicPenguin]

Derwin Shaw
Blackrock Main Gate -> Hallways -> Entrance Hall

As the day wore on, the lines at the four gates didn't dissipate, but they did thin out somewhat and what bloodguards and Dark Maidens remained stationed outside were more than enough to hold what was left in the event of an attack. The crowds that clogged the outer courtyards and gardens were slowly making their way inside now that guests were being admitted into the entrance hall. Athena had grown tired of flying, and, in any case, with the thinning of the guests outside, Derwin decided the pair's presence would be more useful inside now, where the entrance hall would be filling up as the exterior cleared out.

The pair made their way through the main gate, a massive wooden drawbridge over a deep moat where still more bloodguards were again screening entrants to Blackrock's main keep in an overabundance of caution. Athena led the way on all fours, her wings now curled up around and underneath her and her tail swinging casually behind her. The densely packed crowd waiting on the bridge and within the hallway just inside the gate parted like the sea to make way for her. A multitude of faces painted with mixed expressions of awe, fear, anger, and annoyance looked on helplessly at the two of them as they walked right on through where the rest of them had been waiting all day, and would probably be waiting for quite a while more before they made it to the entrance hall proper. The bloodguards on duty at the gate had been instructed to be strict with whom they allowed entrance--diplomats only to the entrance hall while the diplomats' guests and households were directed to their quarters--as well as what items they allowed people to carry inside. Derwin gave them a wave and an "excellent work, soldiers; keep it up," as he walked past them with a dragon in front of him and a massive greatsword on his back, however, and they merely gave proper salutes in return, then went right back to taking weapons and restricted items from the guests.

This continued all the way through Blackrock's main halls, dense crowds parting for Athena and then falling back in behind Derwin following her once the pair passed. Added to the glares they received were those of the housekeeping servants, maids and butlers in particular, who--for good reason, Derwin had to admit--did not appreciate Athena within the castle walls. Her sharp claws had a tendency to tear carpets and tapestries and leave marks in the solid stone where she walked, for one, and, though she was only a smaller wyvern, her base draconic instincts often led her to take unguarded shiny objects from inside to hoard elsewhere at her leisure. Derwin himself often paid for whatever damages Athena caused or whatever items she took out of his own wages. He had also, on several unfortunate occasions, had to clean up large, literally steaming piles of dragon dung hidden in dark, unfrequented corners of the castle, much to the servants' consternation. Given his rank, they couldn't lecture him, exactly, but they had other ways of making their displeasure known, usually in the form of undercooked meals, uncleaned rooms, and, one time, itch-oak in his supposedly clean laundry (he still had not found out who was responsible for that fiasco--the head maid and castle steward had both claimed ignorance, though they had done so with very knowing and very undisguised smirks). Presently, however, the captain could only give them apologetic looks in return for their glares. He understood their difficulty, but where he went, Athena went. They were an inseparable team, the bonds between them stronger than the Dwarf-forged steel and stone from which Blackrock was constructed, and no amount of itch-oak in his pantaloons was going to change that.

When they made it to the entrance hall where the "festivities" were beginning, Athena stopped and shoved Derwin's shoulder pleadingly with her nose before turning her deep, amber eyes toward the room's tall vaulted ceilings and high balconies. He smiled and said, "Alright, go ahead, partner."

With his blessing, Athena unfurled her wings and launched herself high up. Derwin winced at the tear in the carpet she was standing on and the scuff mark on the bricks beneath it that her claws left as she lifted off. A stressed-looking maid passing by carrying drinks and appetizers gave him a withering look; he could have sworn he heard the poor girl's teeth grind, though she was several feet away. "I'll, uh...I'll fix that later. I promise. I'm pretty good with masonry, you know?" She said nothing, but rolled her eyes ostentatiously before moving on.

The entrance hall was not as easy to fly in as the open air outside, but it was still large enough that Athena could make a few rounds of the room to catch the eyes of everyone inside. Light conversation stopped and jaws dropped. Once she had everyone's attention, she gave a pleased trill, then ended her flight by landing heavily on one of the ornate hanging obsidian chandeliers that dangled from the ceiling. The thing swung to and fro beneath her weight, causing light and shadows from the torches set into it to dance and play across the faces of the baffled onlookers below. She curled herself snugly atop the chandelier before looking around at her surroundings. Her eyes fell upon the shiny golden pieces of metal that kept the torches in place on the chandelier. With her tail, she casually ripped two of them off of the thing with a loud pair of clangs.

Derwin winced again at the display, seeming a little embarrassed, but he was in truth mostly just amused. The rest of the room didn't seem to share the sentiment; it was dead quiet and several angry eyes fell upon him. He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, sorry folks. I'll pay for those. Don't worry about her, she's just trying to get comfortable."

With the first of her new golden treasures, the wyvern scanned the crowds below in determination, looking for someone specific. When she found her target, an exotic looking woman of near supernatural beauty who was decked out in similarly shiny jewelry of all different expensive materials, Athena let out a loud shriek to get the woman's attention. With her tail, Athena whipped the golden torch sconce at her at high velocity, but not so high that it could possibly catch a Dark Maiden like Asherah Sorrell off guard.

Athena was more or less indifferent toward most of Blackrock's staff besides Derwin, and that included the Dark Maidens, but she seemed to have a particular soft spot for Asherah, with whom she seemed to enjoy sometimes sharing her loot. Perhaps it was because, as Derwin understood it, the woman was part dragon herself. Perhaps Athena felt a bit of kinship with her. Derwin just gave the woman a wave and an apologetic smile.

With her second torch sconce, Athena moved it from her tail to her hand, then curled up with it as if she were a young girl with a teddy bear getting ready for bed. Her eyes remained open, scanning the massive entrance hall below her for threats, but to onlookers, it would appear as if she were preparing to take a well-deserved nap. Aside from a light, contented rumbling sound from the back of her throat, she stopped making any noise, and she became as still as if she were just another one of the ornate gargoyle statues that stood watch along the inner halls and outside towers of Blackrock.

The room remained similarly silent, the guests apparently unsure what to do about this development, until Derwin cleared his throat. "Alright, everyone, sorry for the disturbance. Show's over. As you were!"

There were a few nervous glances, but everyone mostly went back to the mingling that was common before the Black Court truly got underway. Derwin made a few rounds of the room, inspecting the guards' positions, exchanging salutes with surrounding Bloodguard, and taking note of everyone he would need to keep an eye on. His prime concerns were, of course, the Cainhurst royals. Presently, he noted Lady Severa speaking with the head of the Dark Maidens. Lord Lucian, as ever, was not far from Severa's side. He also noted that Lords Klyn and Helmfried were present; the former seemed to be looking for a pretty woman with whom to canoodle as usual, and the latter seemed like he was trying to blend in with the wall so he would go unnoticed by anyone if he could. He did not yet spot Lady Noire, who should be in attendance soon, nor Lord Elazer, who was supposedly back from his long journey into the Dread Wastes, and with an incredible treasure to boot. Derwin said a silent prayer for the Bloodguards who had lost their lives protecting Elazer on his journey. He'd received the reports of their deaths not long ago.

Having been stationed in the Wastes for much of his military career, Derwin wondered what kinds of things the man saw, and what "treasure" he was rumored to have brought back with him. Nothing good, Derwin suspected; nothing worth the risk of venturing into the Dread Wastes ever seemed to come out of it, much to the misfortune of all the wannabe treasure hunters he'd dragged out of there crying and screaming and babbling incoherently over the years.

Well, he corrected himself, except Athena. Meeting her had been worth venturing into the Wastes, though the costs of doing so still kept him up some nights. The inside of the scarred socket where his eye had once been seemed to throb lightly with remembered agony at the thought. Even so, the wyvern's companionship was worth venturing into Hell itself if he had to, let alone the Dread Wastes.

Though he had not been looking for him, Derwin also spotted Amadeus Grimstark, whom he had saved from some trolls outside before everyone moved to the entrance hall. The noble gave him a friendly wink from across the hall, which Derwin returned with a polite doff of his red cap.

Having noted the positions of all his charges, Derwin found himself a station where he could keep all of them in view at the same time. He leaned casually against a wall with an easy air of nonchalance, though he remained ever vigilant, and, like a coiled spring ready to bounce at the lightest touch, tense and ever ready to pounce in any direction should a threat to one of them appear.

Interacted: koala (Asherah)

Mentioned: Avari (Severa, Lucrezia), Corvid15 (Lucian) Refaulted (Helmfried) NoQuillToLive (Klyn) Dalamus Ulom (Elazer), UltrAiron (Noire)

 

[UltrAiron]

Noire Cainhurst
The Troubled Tactician

Blackrock Castle
Co-Written By: Avari ​

“Zippy!... Zippy!” A young girl cried out within the castle halls. Normally, this teenaged girl wouldn’t be alone without a servant accompanying her or a reanimated cat walking beside her. Matter of fact, the girl was usually found in her large bedroom rather than walking around the very castle she lived in. Her cat, Zippy, was always a rascal and getting himself into weird situations. For whatever reason, today seems to be another day of Zippy’s antics. Noire looked around the spacious halls, under plant pots and curtains, yet she couldn’t find her cat.

“Aww, Zippy!... Where are you? My dear siblings wouldn’t like it if you went missing. Especially since you’re supposed to be my friend…” The young, innocent Noire began to silently weep as she began to be upset that her zombie cat had gone off somewhere. The cat was her precious gift, her own pet she necromanced with the guidance of her elder siblings.

Oh dear, my tears are starting to flow… Zippy, please be safe. Her mind pleaded to the spirits above her. I don’t want to lose my only friend… Then, a raspy meow can be heard down the halls. Wherever it was, Noire to search to find out. With haste, the young girl ran through the halls and followed the cat’s call. “Just continue to meow, Zippy!” Noire hollered, cleaning the tears from her eyes.

As the young girl sprinted towards the source of the sound, the raspy meowing got louder and louder. Eventually, Noire saw her cat strolling into the dining hall of the castle. Not thinking of anything else other than her best friend, Noire dove onto the ground and slid as she embraced her zombie cat.

Getting her cat’s sulfurous scent and his dirty body smearing on her face and clothes, Noire hugged Zippy tightly. “Zippy!” The teary-eyed girl exclaimed. “I thought I lost you! Please don’t wander off like that again!” She sniffled and wiped some more tears from her cheeks.

The young girl looked down at her hands and clothes. Dirty and messy, nothing like a little bath won't fix. Noire peeked around the dining hall as well. It seems that Zippy had made a mess of the room before she caught him. Dirt, grime, mud, and amongst other things that were on the floor and furniture. "We better get out of here and head to my room, Zippy," Noire suggested, with a cautious expression. "We don't want to get in trouble with dearest siblings and the maidens." Carrying her Zippy in her arms, she ran out of the room and headed towards her room.

"Oh, too late for that I think."

Lucrezia was leaning with her back against the cold stone wall of the hallway, looking rather nonchalant - as if she had been there for a while. Her expression was one of cold amusement.

"We have spoken about this terrible habit you have of misplacing yourself, Lady Noire."

"Gah! L-Lady Luc-Lucrezia!" Noire stammered out, scared out of her skin in the hallway. With one glance at the maiden's eyes, she could tell she was in trouble. "I-I was just, uhhh, heading to take a nice long bath! S-so don't mind me!"

Lucrezia smirked as she gently pushed herself off the wall and before Noire could even react, the Elf had wrapped an arm around her and was guiding her down the hallway towards her room. Her hand maintained a vice grip on her shoulder, preventing the young Cainhurst from straying from Lucrezia's preordained route.

"Unfortunately for both of us, minding you is something of a full-time job. Now..."

With her free hand, she clicked her fingers and four maids appeared as if from nowhere. They fell in perfect step behind the pair. Lucrezia always had a flare for showmanship.

"A bath does sound like a good first step doesn't it? After all, your job tonight is to simply stand and look pretty. Simply Stand being the operative phrase there."

---

"Ow, h-hey!" The young girl yelped as her maids dressed her up. One of the maids had accidentally pulled too hard on Noire's elegant dress by her waist. They obviously apologized to the youngest Cainhurst and promised to be easier on her. Her fancy dress had a similar color scheme to her usual clothes; a white top for the torso and a black skirt, the dress adding red stars by her skirt and neckline. Of course, the dress included a giant Cainhurst symbol on her back and a tiny one by her neck. It was designed with wool and a poofy, cutesy look; most likely designed by her eldest sister.

Noire looked at herself in the mirror. She blushed at how cute she looked and turned away. She couldn't help but compare her look to how her bedroom was designed. Unlike how cutesy and fancy she was, the room was filled to the brim with shelves of ancient literature. Books of magic, fairy tales, academics, and everything Noire needed to learn about the world. The room had only one large window to look through, which can only look at the front part of the castle. She owned a large bed, a bed capable of holding 10 Noires at once. Adding to the books was Noire's large desk, a place in which she studies and writes.

The room was pretty clean and scholarly. It was painted with a black and red color scheme. It also seemed to be one of the largest rooms in the castle as her bed was in the second floor. It had everything an isolated kid like Noire should have! The teenager grew tired of looking at her room and laid her eyes on Lady Lucrezia.

"Um, L-Lady Lucrezia?" She started to ask, opening her arms to show off her dress. "Do I... Do I look cute to you?"

Lucrezia, who had been watching the whole struggle with vague amusement as she munched an apple she had procured from one of Noire's fruit bowls, stopped to consider her question for a moment.

"You look skinny." She said eventually. "Have you been eating?"

"S-Skinny? I've been eating normally... Are you saying I should eat more?" Her face grew redder than the apple Lucrezia was eating.

The Elf waved off her concern. "Perhaps you're just naturally thin. I'll notify the physician regardless - for now -" she scooped her free hand into the nearby fruit bowl and scooped out a second rosy red apple, which she tossed over to Noire.

"Eat this at least. It will be a long night - I trust you are aware of the expectations your Father has for you?"

The young girl managed to catch the red apple. "Father?... Um, I'll exceed his expectations!..." She looked down at her apple as she answered. She didn't want to disappoint anyone, but her heart was filled with anxiety. This party didn't help calm her nervous heart down.

Her nervousness didn't seem to annoy Lucrezia though, who simply nodded - content.

"By the way, Lady Lucrezia, why did you come find me? You came out of nowhere!"

"There was reason to believe that you - or someone else of import - was in danger. Your older sister requested I protect you." Lucrezia replied simply as she rose to her feet and dismissed the Maids, their work completed to her satisfaction. She made for the door herself, but Noire hadn't yet moved, her expression stricken with complete fear and eyes blank with despair. Lucrezia raised her eyebrows.

"... What is it?"

"...My li-life is d-danger?..." She had a million questions pop up in her head at once. Noire never heard such a thing in her life. Just how much danger was she actually in? Her eyes began to water at the depressing thoughts.

The Elf regarded the young girl blankly for a moment. She really wasn't going to survive for long outside the confides of her room if she continued to live in such ignorance. She wondered for a moment if this was Severa's influence or the work of the Dark Lord himself.

Lucrezia sighed dramatically and walked over to the panicked Cainhurst, placing both her hands on the girl's shoulders.

"Its only natural to worry." She said softly. "There are bad people out there who would hurt you. Who would see your entire world and everything that's been built for you cast down. Do you know how I deal with that and how I've survived this long?"

Precious little Noire looked up to the brave Elf, still teary-eyed. "H-how?"

Lucrezia looked her in the eyes. Her yellow looking deep into Noire's red.

"I kill them first."

Interacted: Lucrezia ( Avari )

Mentioned: Severa ( Avari )

 

[koala]

Asherah Sorrell, the Second Maiden & Lord Sepulcher XBlackrock Castle, Dining Hall
Interactions: Pilgrim59 , MagicPenguin
Written With: Sushi ​

The sound of life quickly filled the great halls of Blackrock Castle within the few minutes both Dark Maidens had arrived to their posts. Asherah watched with a welcoming smile as the living and undead crossed the threshold into the place so few were actually allowed to enter, except for special occasions. Women in gaudy dresses strolled through, many of them carrying their heads high as they wore smug expressions. One noblewoman, in particular, wore a lengthy, black satin gown that dragged across the floor, much to the dismay of those behind her. The upper portion of the dress was delicately lined with golden threads that melted into real, shimmering gold that lightly hugged her shoulders; even her wrists and hands were covered in the element, looking more like clawed gloves rather than bracelets and pointed rings. Her wide, bell-shaped sleeves and the cumbersome material that flowed behind her were rimmed with light gray fur. The scent of it tickled the dragoness’ nose, and she instantly recognized it as wolves’ hide. She felt the corner of her lips droop then at the poor woman’s tastelessness. It was as though she were asking to start problems with the werewolves in attendance.

The men that accompanied such women were no better. The ones that caught Asherah’s attention wore excessive amounts of jewelry that a mere farmer would deem lost treasure. Blues, greens, reds, and purples twinkled under the castle lights like colorful diamonds. It befuddled her how many rings a person could wear on a single hand, but she was more surprised at the fact that she could still be amazed with the Black Court gatherings. Truthfully, it got more and more extravagant every year, turning more into a fancy dinner party rather than a meeting over Hollowvale’s well-being.

Asherah sighed, ignoring the itch at the back of her neck that made her want to retreat to her room. That would earn her an earful from many people, however. Her position may have been higher than most of the castle employees and guests, but in the eyes of everyone except her sisters, the Cainhursts, a select few nobles, and the captain of the Bloodguard, she was nothing but a normal servant. Even Jeanne, who was well on her way to becoming the head maid, believed she had authority over her, and that was simply something Asherah had to play along with for everyone’s sake.

“Miss Asherah,” came a soft-spoken voice, prompting Asherah to turn and face a shorter girl. She was young, perhaps around the ages of fifteen and sixteen, and sported large, black-rimmed glasses. Her orange hair was pinned back in a bun, adding a few extra years to her youthful appearance. The rosiness of her cheeks told the dragon that she was likely flustered by Asherah’s more mature image. “I’m here to relieve you of your duties. I believe the head maid asked for your presence in the dining hall.”

“I see. Thank you, Child.” Responded Asherah simply, her long legs already taking her down the hall and towards where most of the liveliness was taking place. She knew why she was wanted there. Her uncanny ability to mingle and make people feel good about themselves was a bonus to a gathering of proud nobles that may or may not like each other. There would be some drama, and she would be there to safely diminish it.

For nearly half an hour, Asherah continued the boring activity of people-watching. She stood besides a decadent table that was lined with desserts, many of them made by pastry masters from the opposite side of the kingdom. The sweet smell of cinnamon and apples kept bringing her attention to warm, freshly made pies and cookies that were begging to be eaten. The woman watched helplessly as nobles picked up the pieces, one by one, and she couldn’t wait until she could devour a chest full of leftovers once the gathering had finished. Sweets paired with a nice, cold keg of beer was the perfect way to end her night.

Closing her eyes, Asherah sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. She kept her hands behind her back as she intrusively listened in on some conversations that went around her. It was easy for her to pry, as the dragon blood that flowed in her veins gave her senses better than most. However, sometimes she wished her sense of hearing weren’t so sensitive, especially the more the heard from the pair of noblemen behind her. They were talking about one of the maids, whispering the disgusting ways they could defile her. Their words made Asherah’s stomach’s twist in a way little did, and she would have approached them if not for the familiar sight and scent of her dear friend.

Asherah strode over, hips swaying slightly, as she skillfully avoided touching any of the people she passed. Her lips curved upwards, slender fingers tapping her sides. It was easy to see him over the heads of the other nobles, his staggering height being one of his best intimidation factors aside from the obviously eerie skull mask he wore. Each step towards him made his familiar aroma, a mixture of earth death, masked by soiled hyacinth and faded rosemary that aroused her senses more strongly and invited a feeling of comfort.

“Hello, Darling.” Asherah purred, loudly enough that Sepulcher could hear her but quietly enough that lingering eyes would think nothing of her, a mere maid, approaching him. She stood at a respectable distance away, although the side of her arm would occasionally brush against him the closer she got. “How was your journey?”

Sep turned around slowly upon the sensation of a distinctive voice he had heard many times before. A lukewarm tingle crept down his spine. His mask slightly lifted above his nose, while his cheeks were filled with crumbs from the pie that he recently consumed. In his hand was a handful of other desserts that he was hoping to procure for himself before being approached by none other than Asherah. Sep was caught up in the euphoria of fetching for himself the sweetest appetite that Blackrock had to offer, at the expense of being caught by the sultry Dark Maiden. What was once a confident and eccentric necromancer was now petrified by Asherah’s sudden appearance. It has only been less than a week since they last met, but Sep would beg to differ. For him, she was as beautiful as she was deadly. Perhaps one of the few souls that he found comfortable to express himself, or maybe it was her beguiling eyes that kept him captive under her spell. Gulping down his recent bite out of a strawberry cheesecake, Sep settled his spoon alongside his thoughts and chuckled nervously.

“M-Miss Sorrell! Fancy meeting ye here. Well, I do suppose ye profession requires yer presence here most of the time, as do I. How silly of me! Ahahaha.” Sep stammered, then laughed it off.

“My journey was well. Although it could be more colorful. Perhaps hibiscus and some wild seeds would do the gloomy forests justice. My apologies… I must profess ye adorned quite a bonne visage this day. I mean, ye have always been lovely, of course! Well, what I meant to say was...” he continued, this time veering away from Asherah’s gaze.

“...It- It does me good to see you.” he concluded.

Even Sep was perplexed by his stroke of words. Like a scholar failing to match the corresponding lexicon upon their verbose drafts. He felt like a child again, muttering rather than speaking, while his eyes ricocheting across the room rather than fixed upon Asherah's passionately placid windows. His eyes hardly cast on Asherah’s, for a brief glance could quickly rob him of his breath. As Sep said to Lord Shizuka Gozen before, he was an anxious creature around the ladies - most particularly Asherah. Behind every small tidbit of the things he had said, were truths in the guise of laughter. Even now, he had chosen to address her formally, as opposed to his urge to call her "Ash", as she would "Sep" in a more private setting. Rather, the man was accustomed to the way she called him 'darling' at this point. A sense of common etiquette, accompanied by his somewhat bemused state of mind. It then dawned on him of his vacant thoughts. Sep withdrew a small vial from his sleeve. A small glass container that housed a delicate silvery flower. It emitted a visibly vivid blinking strobes upon the petals where light was absent from his large hands. The vial was secured by delicate knots and an ornate scarlet ribbon on top of the sealed cork. He offered it to Asherah, before raising his voice.

“Lunala, one of Dreadmoor's most prized mountain flowers. I've taken the liberty to address it with red soil and maple extract. So ye need not water nor proper care for it to thrive. Only that it blooms best under the tenth moon every month. I hope it suffices for a gift, Miss Sorrell. Lunala has only resurfaced in recent years thanks to my great grandmother. It was used as a matrimonial flower as part of Dreadmoor's traditions long before jewel bands became the norm-...” Sep paused briefly, then shook his head with his hands throwing back and forth in panic.

"...Well I do not mean any implication of seeking your hands in matrimony! Although I have ascertained ye a charming lady, really! Surely, ye would do well to ken that I respect ye lovely appearance and demeanor. Though, I do wonder if children are worth it. Ten might be a handful, let alone thirty. But perhaps they would prove prudent as our own household legion. Aye. I'll settle for ten, or maybe twenty. Nay, ten will suffice. Anyways, our difference in years may be held accountable for such an approach. However, I am willing to concede to shared sentiments over age. Belay that thought, such a statement could very well implicate me as an advocate for romance between an older gentry and that of a young girl, like those present around us. Which I find quite repulsive, truth be told. But, then again, who am I to adjudicate should both parties consent? I mean, I do hold yer liberty to exercise yer decisions when it comes to selecting a worthy partner, should Our Exalted Liege permit such an endeavor…"

Sep caught his breath, just as he tossed his verbiage, alongside his thoughts into the void.

"Hmm, where was I going with this… Oh right! Lunala! Did I mention that it glows in the dark? Absent of smokes and less burdening on the eyes as opposed to the bright mana lamps and suffocating torches. It also adopts certain colors when exposed to drastic change in temperatures, donning cerulean hues in colder climates and crimson rouge when exposed to heat."

Sep broke off his train of thoughts and sought to go on about his gift to Asherah - hoping to deviate from his generally misleading ramblings. The detrimental effects of a socially inept necromancer. Where Sep falls short in his delivery of intents, the man would make up for it with verbose thoughts. A coping mechanism for someone of his stature.

Asherah hadn’t said anything as the man spoke. She merely let the vile of Lunala ghost across her naturally rosy lips. Her eyes never left the glowing cerulean orbs that came from the shadows of Sep’s mask, an amused expression on her face. There wasn’t much to say and he spoke enough for the both of them. It didn’t feel particularly right of her to confess that her biology, let alone her profession, made things such as parenthood impossible.

Sep locked eyes with Asherah after he shifted his eyes back and forth. The necromancer was looking for an excuse to throw himself over the balcony at this point. It crossed his mind that he should have picked a better gift with less intricate details that could potentially mislead Asherah's interpretations of his intentions, which was supposed to be a gift of his own volition. A gesture of their prolonged and enduring friendship thus far. For the common folks, perhaps she might have taken it word for word with her own thoughts on the matter. But for Sep, they certainly had a most unorthodox relationship, and surely she had disregarded his excess of words with ease. She often teased him about it too. Where others sought physical desires of their flesh, Sep saw Asherah as his designated companion in the sense of a gifted musician to an attentive audience. Oftentimes, he sought refuge in her soft voice and her skillful hand with her harp. The necromancer's only occasional respite for the last two decades was that of his head upon her lap, while she performed the most beautiful of symphonies upon the soft-spoken threads. Like a napping child seeking the long-lost realm free of worries. Even a necromancer must learn to appreciate a certain dragon-blood's refined melody. Their uncanny bond was forged upon the light tugs of her harp strings some many moons ago.

Never once had he desired to go beyond that. By some miraculous circumstance, Sep had managed to not give into the temptation of the flesh. Perhaps it was a certain moral belief that resides deep within his heart, or perhaps he was still terrified that he would be eaten after copulation like how mantis works. Even to this day, he had wished to go on with his life without knowing how a female mantis would decapitate their partner after mating. That, and giant squids. Mana runes and graphite were his preferences over squid ink. He had a strong belief that should he indulge in extensive sacrifice of squids for a few scribbles on parchment, a certain squid would drag him under his bed and consume him for his sins. One of the many reasons why he had a hammock made from durable giant moth's silk in his room instead of a normal bed. One that keeps him vigilant of the unknown void between his cozy realm and that of the cold stony flooring. Sep shivered at the thought, then shook it off with a sigh. Standing tall over Asherah, he chuckled anxiously at himself. He felt smaller than her despite their height differences.
“Now, Sep,” Asherah’s voice was softer and hushed, a tone of familiarity that she only used when they were alone. “We have been friends this long, and you still behave as though I’m going to eat you for dinner. You ought to-”

Suddenly, a loud shriek came from above, making the woman let out a soft sigh. She tilted her head, eyes locking on the wyvern that had docked on one of the many chandeliers. It swung slightly, casting shadows across different parts of the room as Asherah’s hand whipped out with inhuman speed. Her fingers wrapped around the torch sconce that was thrown at her, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Athena was a sweet creature, even if some of her antics earned some questionable looks in Derwin’s direction. Nevertheless, she was grateful the wyvern was willing to share her treasures with her.

She smiled at the captain before returning her attention to the tall man before her. After tucking Sep’s gift within the crevice of her bosom, she placed a free hand on his wrist and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Well, I suppose it’s time for me to return to pretending I am a servant.” Asherah kept her hold around the torch as she began to search for a place to set it aside. However, before she completely disappeared into the crowd, she stopped and turned to Sepulcher. “Enjoy yourself tonight, Darling. Gods only know you deserve it.”

 

[Corvid15]

Lucian Octavian Cainhurst & Noire Cainhurst
Written with UltrAiron (Mentions: Avari )​

Gliding through the smooth stone hallways of Blackrock Castle, Lucian silently worried over his younger sister. She was rather delicate, and honestly his favorite of his siblings. He did not want her to be incredibly fretful over the possible events of tonight. Usually people, especially Severa, tended to misinterpret his readings of possible futures and assume the worst. Which Lucian found a bit annoying. Not every future is doom and gloom, while it easily can be, that is no reason to call the guard and go on high alert.

On Klyn's 20th birthday, Lucian had said the night before that misfortune would fall upon Klyn. Severa then locked him in his room for the entire day so he would be safe. Klyn then ended up trying to sneak out of the window because he wanted cake, and fell on top of a guard. Then by the time he made it to the kitchens, the servants had already eaten his cake. Usually, the misfortune tends to be Severa's overreactions.

Lucian had used his reality bending powers to pop into the kitchen and purloin a small dessert for Noire to cheer her up. The chef's would probably just think a servant got hungry, or there was a ghost. Some servants thought that Lucian was a ghost, and the other siblings were having too much fun to correct them. But Lucian was worried about her, and knew she would enjoy his company.

Depressingly, little Noire blankly watched the outside world from her only window. After her talk with Lady Lucrezia, she had no idea what to think or what to do. While the elf's words were encouraging, especially her last sentence, Noire wasn't completely convinced that she would be fine. With a sad sigh, Noire pondered as to how brave and strong the first maiden was. She even wondered how her older siblings must've faced this kind of predicament.

"Oh dearest elder siblings," she murmured. "How did you deal this situation? A looming, mysterious danger coming to end your life?..." Noire solemnly looked at the uneaten apple Lady Lucrezia gave her.

Portia, Lucian's ever present owl familiar, trilled happily once she spotted the familiar door of Noire's room. Lucian gathered himself, ready to just pop in like he usually did. But, Lucrezia is almost definitely helping her get dressed. This would mean there is a high probability of Noire not being fully decent at the moment, and that would be entirely improper to just appear without warning. Lucian rapped on Noire's door awkwardly, Portia tapping on his shoulder in anticipation for scritches.

Noire quickly perked her head up, surprised that someone had knocked on her door. The young girl wiped off some of her tears just in case Lady Lucrezia was behind the door. She straighten herself up and took a deep breath. She slowly opened her door to see an awkward Lucian waiting with a plate of her favorite dessert, red velvet cupcake. Her red eyes began to water as she strongly embraced her dearest brother. "Oh Brother Luci, thank you so much!"

Lucian let out a rather undignified squawk of surprise at the sudden hug, before booping Noire of the tip of her nose. Noire was always his favorite, much less serious than some of the others, and the closest to his own age. She was the baby sibling, though the older siblings also referred to him as the baby which he didn't appreciate. He was much wiser than his older siblings, and much more intelligent. But no matter what, seeing Noire made his heart melt and then he was glad to be one of the baby Cainhursts. "Thought you would like it."

"I do," Noire looked up at the taller sibling. "Erm... C-Can we talk for a moment?"

Lucian nodded, handing her the cupcake. He was a man of few words, but he was a great listener, and still one of the most caring of the siblings. "My predictions?"

Bringing him inside her large room and to her table, Noire sat down on a chair. Looking a bit anxious on what to say. "...I-I... L-Lady Lucrezia claimed that my... my life was in danger..." Her voice grew quieter as she timidly spoke. "I was w-wondering why that may be the case..."

Portia sat herself in Noire's lap, nuzzling her. Lucian didn't want to say this, Noire didn't need to know about everything. He sighed. "Severa... I never said your life was in danger. Sev needs to stop jumping to conclusions. Lord Havelock is... a danger to you. Stay away from him, don't wander off alone. Have Lady Lucrezia with you."

Noire patiently listened to her wise brother, eating her dessert to comfort herself. "I-I understand." The girl simply said as she wiped her wet cheek. "I promise not to wander off, especially when my dear siblings are there... Um, but does it have to be Lady Lucrezia? She's, erm, she's kinda scary..."

"It does not have to be her, but Severa worries too much. I can ask her to assign someone else, or I could stay by your side?" Lucian slipped off his mask, his starry eyes giving a soft golden glow.

"...I think I'll be fine if you're by my side, dearest brother." Noire cutely smiled, feeling better now that her brother was with her. She took her last bite of her cupcake. "Thank you, Luci. I feel much better."

Lucian smiled back, ruffling her hair. Hopefully, the fates he saw will not come to pass. But, should that be the path, well, nothing is going to happen to his little sister. He'll make sure of that.

 

[Athanas]

Captain Derwin Shaw& Arkoth von Urastar
Written with MagicPenguin ​

"...So then the General walks up to me, his chin sky-high as he likes to keep it. He's eyeing me with more contempt than usual though, and that kinda puts me off guard. What have I done this time? Who have I angered? Turns out, he was just jealous! Word'd come from Blackrock, and they wanted me to take up the red! Me! So, if you ever feel stupid, do remember~ Someone sober thought I'd be a great fit amongst these pompous asshats we have in the unit."

This elicited a round of loud laughter from around the shoddy table. It's occupants seemed to be a collection of footmen and guards, Unscrupulous men who seemed more keen in the tavern girls they had hired to keep them company, which were currently resting on their laps, or the hard alcohol that was in ample supply, than actually doing their duty. At the head of the table, however, there seemed to be a Bloodguard, trading tales and playing cards with a vulgarity and wit that made it plain he belonged. To an outsider, it would be an odd sighting. What was a Bloodguard doing here, amongst common soldiery? Why would he waste his time in mingling with them? Was it a clever ploy to spy on them? Mayhaps he sought to gain their trust so as to use them in dastardly experiments?

Such concerns were to be expected from the all-too paranoid nobles and courtiers of Blackrock, but the truth was a far simpler one-Arkoth simply felt much more at ease around people he could connect with. As a bastard, he was never permitted into noble gatherings and masquerade waltzes. No, his lot was with the servants, the errand boys, and the guards. At first he was envious. Then, when he got a high rank in the army, he was made to be a guard in such an affair. And he realized that he hadn't been missing out, not really.

The game continued. The players were already getting drunk, but Arkoth was still quite fine. He'd developed quite a stomach for the vice of alcohol, which suited him just fine, as brawls were bound to happen anytime, and he wasn't doing much planning inebriated.
He smiled as he saw what cards. Had been laid down "Well, boys, it's been fun, but you know what they say. "Unlucky in love, lucky in cards". Needless to say, you should've heeded that common wisdom." With a magnificent flourish, he produced his hand, a full house with Ace high. He grinned widely as he scooped up the gold from the table into his deep pockets.

Turning his attention back to the soldiery, he decided that some teasing was in order. "Oh, lads, why the long faces? You keep that up a moment longer and I'll start mistaking you for Lady Severa!"

He stood up, assuming his best impression of Severa, complete with an exaggerated frown. He spoke in a mockingly high pitched voice. "Oh, woe is me! My poor brother is nowhere to be seen! Let me sit ominously and waste my time staring at the road, as if though he'll magically appear there!"

The round of laughter that emanated from the table urged him to move on. Folding his cloak onto his chest, he made his best impression of possessing breasts. He changed his voice into a shrill, annoying pitch "How dare you mock my protege! I, Lady Lucrezia, the First Maiden, would surely punish you thoroughly for that, but none of you are my equals! Hah! They don't call me pride for nothing! Ignore the fact that I'm still the Dark Lord's bitch, however-I am powerful, believe me!" He ended that statement with his best pout.

"You fools, how dare you speak such treasonous thoughts!" His voice was now bass, and he was standing upright. "It is I, Captain Derwin! And I demand this "having fun" ordeal is stopped posthaste! None are allowed to have fun in Blackrock! Yes, by the by, I am aware my hat looks absolutely ridiculous. Don't you dare laugh, or I shall feed you to my discount Dragon!"

His audience's reaction-First cackling and entranced, now suddenly indifferent or nervous indicated that something was a little amiss. Turning, his smile froze on his lips at the sight of another bloodguard, and he quickly donned his mask again. "Ah, p-pleased to see you, Sir", he said, shakily saluting. "I was...I was but trying to entertain this rabble. It is imperative the soldiery is kept in top s-spirits, yes?

"Come with me" Said the bloodguard, without being fully able to conceal his annoyance over the newcomer's antics. "The Captain wants to see you Immediately"

Sighing, Arkoth quickly thought of his options before realizing that there was no way he would avoid the scolding to come. He followed the grumpy bloodguard all the way back to the entrance hall of Blackrock Castle.

Arkoth found Derwin leaning on a wall with arms crossed, leaning with his back against a large wall as he watched the mingling blue-bloods milling about the castle's spacious entrance hall. He was a surprisingly short man in person, perhaps no more than 5'6" or 5'7", not nearly as large as he appeared to be while riding that giant bag of scales he liked to parade around on. The greatsword on his back was nearly as tall as he was, the way he was lounging leisurely. Despite his short stature and relaxed posture, however, there was a subtle tenseness about him that spoke to his readiness for action. He looked up from his vigil at Arkoth's approach.

"Ah, if it isn't our new recruit," he remarked lazily. "Finally joined us, have you?"

Arkoth could practically feel the sarcasm dripping from his superior's words. Times like these, he was glad for the mask that covered his features. It helped also hide his slight nervousness. "I'm sorry I'm late, sir. I was simply ensuring the well-being of~"

"You know, it's strange, Sir Arkoth, but, before I dismissed you and the others last night, I seem to remember myself ordering that all Bloodguard units stationed within the castle were to be present and accounted for before sunup this morning to receive orders and assignments. Do you perhaps remember the same? Or were you too deep in the bottle yesterday to remember anything from after 3PM?"

Arkoth choked on his words as the Captain wasted no time in pointing out his mistakes. Okay, granted, maybe his mind had been wandering a little, because of that rather attractive handmaiden he had caught sight of earlier during that day. He was already making grand plans as to how he would approach her, before he ultimately realized he would not be able to muster up the courage to do so convincingly.

And so, he'd tried to drown this realization in hard ale.

"W-Well, Sir, I apologize. I simply must have...Misheard you. But don't think I drank that much! Why, it was but a pint...or two."

Lies, of course. He'd downed a bottle and a half, at least.

"Well, all's well now, sir! Sober and ready to receive your belated, but undoubtedly still accurate, orders!" He stood upright, in what could be interpreted as an attention stance, or a mockery of one. He wasn't drunk, but he wasn't sober either.

Derwin gave Arkoth a long, hard, steely look, considering him. Finally, he said gravely, "Yes, well. I should certainly hope so, Sir Arkoth. And I don't need to tell you that a repeat of this incident will not be tolerated."

With a tired exhale, the Captain turned back to watching the crowd. His hard, disciplinary face seemed to melt back into the easy, relaxed aura he'd been adopting before Arkoth's approach. He was silent for a time before he spoke again.

"I am aware, recruit, that some in the Bloodguard believe that it is beneath us to mingle among the common folk in the taverns, as the lieutenant found you doing today. They feel we must remain above the 'rabble' in order to protect and serve the nobility with any effectiveness. It is a somewhat widespread view among certain groups within our ranks, for better or worse. I am not one of those who holds this viewpoint, luckily for you. It makes no difference to me how or with whom you spend your free time, so long as you perform your duties efficiently."

His head swiveled back to Arkoth with a disarming, even friendly, smile. "In truth, I think it's a good thing to connect with the people as you do. Keeps us grounded, humble, and it reminds us what we fight for as knights."

His warm smile vanished abruptly, and his easygoing voice became hard iron. He had a rather oppressive, menacing aura about him now.

"But that does NOT mean you are allowed to slack off on your duties as a knight of the Bloodguard. In the future, you are to report where I command, when I command you to report there. And you are to do so sober and prepared to do your job. You could have a bright future ahead of you if you play your cards the right way, but if you cannot live up to the proud crimson of the garments you were granted when you took your oath, I shall be forced to...now, how did you put it...?"

His voice took on an exaggerated mockery of itself not unlike that Arkoth had used when imitating him in the tavern.

"...feed you to my discount dragon! Bwa ha ha!"

He gestured with his thumb up to the high vaulted ceiling, drawing Arkoth's eye to the blood-red wyvern lounging quietly on the chandelier. Whether on purpose or by mere chance, the beast decided to yawn at just that moment, putting all its razor sharp teeth on full display.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Arkoth shuddered slightly at the threat, instinctively changing his posture into a more lean, slightly more prepared stance. The Captain seemed...Effective. Rather than meandering about with idle threats and serenades, he got across the intended point without effort. He nodded in acknowledgment of his statement. This one would be more demanding than his last superior, that was for sure. However, there was not only fear that came from the man-the fact that he seemed to at least be willing to give him a second chance and crack jokes made it clear this was a superior at least willing to try to appear as one of his men. "I see, Captain."

"I think what you meant to say is, 'yes, sir!'," the captain barked harshly. "And you are expected to salute your superiors when acknowledging orders."

Arkoth bit his tongue at the remark. Bloody hell, he really was insistent that protocol be followed, wasn't he? Seeking to avoid conflict for now, he stood upright again, saluting. "Sir, yes, sir!"

"Good. Well, then, to business. You can take up with the unit assigned to watch over Lady Noire. There is some concern circulating in the upper ranks that one of the guests, Lord Havelock, might have ill intentions toward her, though it's only rumor.

"Lady Noire...That's the young one, right?"

"That's the one. She's currently up in her quarters. You'll be standing guard outside her door for now. If and when she is ready to make an appearance in the main entrance hall, your unit will help to escort her and ensure she remains safe."

"What, you think this Havelock will be dumb enough to try anything inside Blackrock itself?"

He mentally slapped himself. He was most likely still under scrutiny by the captain. Now was a bad time to be cracking jokes, but it was how he coped with stress.

If his blunt manner bothered Derwin though, the man didn't show it. He merely shrugged.

"I highly doubt it if he values his life, but who knows what some people are dumb enough to try? Lady Lucrezia is keeping an eye on her as well, so I expect no problems even if he does do anything foolish. You will mostly be there to support her. Even so, I expect that in the event of trouble, you and the others will put your lives on the line to protect the young princess."

"...Got it, Sir. The lady will be safe." He turned to leave, but the captain clearly wasn't done.

"Hold, Arkoth. One more thing before you go." Derwin glanced around, making sure there were no ears close enough to overhear. He leaned in and when he spoke, it was in a hushed tone.

"You are from Vinistead, a somewhat far-flung settlement out in the boondocks, so you may not be aware of how things are here in Crowhaven. I will tell you how it is, and if you have anything resembling a brain lurking behind that garish mask of yours, you will heed me well.

Insulting the royal family or the Dark Maidens, even in jest, could have...life-threatening repercussions, should the wrong people learn you were doing it. Men and women have been sent into the basement dungeons to be tortured to the point of insanity for less than what the lieutenant told me you were doing. Worse, you did it in a public place, where anyone could hear you and where you knew no one. Should even one of those men or women who were watching you bring tales back to Blackrock, and should Lady Severa or Lady Lucrezia or, far worse, the Dark Lord himself catch wind of those tales...maybe they would simply write it off as the drunken ramblings of a baseborn idiot and forget about it. Or maybe they would truly be angered by your lack of respect. And if that were to happen, well..." He trailed off ominously. "Let's just say you'd be in more trouble than that silver tongue of yours could ever hope to get you out of."

Arkoth stood puzzled at the Captain's words. Torture? Execution? For a joke? "You...You're serious aren't you, Captain? You really think they'll have me executed for cracking a couple jokes about em? Well, that sounds more than a little excessive. But I suppose, what could one expect from bluebloods...."

"Heh. I see you understand what I'm trying to tell you. That's encouraging. Means you're not a complete fool."

"The lieutenant who retrieved you can be trusted not to repeat what you were doing to any but myself, unless he were asked directly by one of the royals. I can only hope your other spectators remain similarly silent. I tell you this both as your captain and simply as one man concerned for the safety of another: you must be more careful if you value your life."

There was it again. He was slipping up. He wasn't in the barracks anymore. These... people were all ears, and had far too much free time in their hands. They'd been raised with a silver spoon, and they were more than eager to shove it up the eye of anyone who even remotely annoyed them.

"I can't help but feel as if though that would be a waste, Sir. Either way, I appreciate your warning. I'll try my best to hold my tongue from now on. And not a drop until Lady Noire is safe and sound. Promise."

"Excellent," Derwin replied, returning to a normal tone of voice. "Well then, soldier. You have your orders. Off you go." With that, he went back to his silent watch, monitoring the crowds closely for any threats to his precious royal family. It was as abrupt a dismissal as he could possibly have received.

Arkoth saluted one last time and began moving away from Derwin, scanning the hall from behind his mask. He once again mentally thanked the Gods he was allowed to have it. He didn't have a problem with people, you see. He'd met plenty, and grown up with plenty more. But these sycophants weren't people, not really. They were like mannequins, automatons. Running around, doing their best impression of living. Saying carefully planned half truths, acting in a meticulously exaggerated yet civil manner. They were all...fake. The byproducts of the aforementioned silver spoon.

Besides, it was much easier to conceal one's gawking when one's eyes were not visible. And with so many pretty individuals around, he'd most likely find himself gawking a lot more than he'd liked to. Composure around attractive specimens was one of the many, many things he'd really like to improve on in the near future.

Already, his eyes were wandering to the form of one of the maids . She seemed preoccupied with talking to what seemed to be an absolute beast of a man, clad in a skull mask not too much unlike his. He painstakingly managed to wrest his face from her features and instead focus on the man-beast. He actually let a small smile form in his lips. Every rule had exceptions, and maybe a fellow who understood the importance of concealing one's face could also make for a conversation partner that wasn't an absolute bore. He made a small note to go and try to start just such a conversation when there was time.

Something about the maid that did not pertain to her features attracted his attention. He blinked in confusion, realizing what caused the whole scene to feel off.

A maid. A regular commoner servant. Was exchanging pleasantries, flirting, and receiving gifts from a nobleman. She looked him dead in the eyes, too. Well, that was certainly noteworthy. He turned back to the captain.

"Oi, Cap-Sir! Um, don't look too suspiciously, but-the maidservant a little to the left, i suspect, aint no maid at all. Hell, I doubt whoever she is has ever seen a commoner. Look-she's talking to him, casually making contact-I mean, for crying out loud, she's straight up eyefucking him. She one of our... "Spies?" If not, I can resolve this." He tapped his sheathed scimitar.

The Captain's one good eye briefly glanced where Arkoth pointed before turning back to the crowd with an amused smirk.

"Quite the imagination you have there, Sir Arkoth. I can assure you, that is naught but a simple maid. Likely one with dreams of moving into a nice, cushy lifestyle as the mistress of a rich nobleman instead of toiling away as a lowly maidservant. She's a bold one, certainly, but no more and no less than that. Do try not to carve up the servants on your way to Lady Noire's rooms based on wild speculation, will you? I know firsthand how hard it can be to find good help these days."

Arkoth could hardly conceal his disappointment. "I see, sir. I make no promises, but I will try my best." He gave a small chuckle at his joke. However, as he once again moved away he couldn't help but return his gaze to the scene. The captain was highborn, he presumed, and as a highborn, trickery came naturally to him. What guarantee was there that he had guessed correctly, but the captain had cut him off so as not to reveal the ploy? He should investigate, see if he can provoke either her or the Man-beast into some sort of reaction that would confirm his suspicions.

But for now, such thoughts were but pipedreams-He was on babysitter duty. Apparently, alongside the first Maiden herself. He really wasn't sure what they needed him for, given how powerful the first maiden was, in theory at least. But no matter. The proximity would allow his deck to make some decent headway into whatever kinds of magic she practiced. And with her in charge, it'd mean his actual responsibility would be null-Who'd blame the poor bloodguard when the first maiden herself had failed?

He couldn't help himself but fantasize about this scenery for but a moment. How her face would twist and fall as she was scorned. How her oh so important pride would be damaged! Ah, wouldn't that be swell!

Actually, the entire night could be made a lot better with some mayhem. He looked around at all the pompous, petty nobles, lying, laughing mirthlessly, moving in their perfectly calculated steps. What joy would he receive if some outside raiding band somehow found itself inside the castle! A good fight helps the blood boil, and seeing the terror in their painted faces would be a sight to remember for years to come!

He finally shook the thoughts away, and went forth with his tasks. It seemed that the maids were nowhere near done dressing up the poor youngling, and so, not sure what else to do, he simply stood in front of the door, waiting, absentmindedly fidgeting with his favorite card-the Jack of diamonds. "The laughing boy".

He always had a special place in his heart for that card. It brought him luck whenever he had a hand with it, and he'd treated it almost like a charm at this point. He'd even gone to the trouble of making a custom, engraved version of the card, which he kept on his person at almost all times.

Interacted: Derwin Shaw( MagicPenguin )
Mentioned: Asherah( koala ), Sepulcher( Pilgrim59 ), Noire ( UltrAiron ), Sevara&Lucrezia( Avari )

 

[Ghostiiys]

Seldanna & Klyn Cainhurst
Location: Near the main entrance of Blackrock
Written with: NoQuillToLive

It was soon after both of the maidens Opened the entrance to Blackrock castle that hordes of Nobles and both their undead and living tag alongs followed after them. As Seldanna watched both men and women alike adorned in precious jewels , their clothes sewn with the finest silks and velvets.

It was definitely an eyesore. Each Noble family trying to one up each other to gain favor. Especially for any prospective young ladies and men who where hopeful and stupid enough to try and seek favour with any of the Cainhurst siblings.

Looking towards the lobby Seldanna could barely see any one noticeable , The Cainhurst family had most likely been engulfed by sycophants and doormats seeking to cozy up to the children in order to have favour with the Dark lord.

Although she did see a group of soldiers leave the lobby , and even Asherah having a conversation with Lord Seplucher. And as much as Seldanna wanted to run by her side to get rid of unwanted stares by Bloodgaurds and nobles alike she had no choice but to stay put.

There were many advantages of just being seen as a common maid , most nobles would not try to indulge conversation , and the dark elf already had some notoriety of crushing a few fingers of men who would try to grab at her.

Except for one man , who seemed to make it a daily chore to make her talk. But thankfully he must of been preoccupied with literally anything else other than her.

Indeed, that one man, tussling his fingers through his red hair, dazed over, listening helplessly to the tirades that were forced upon him. Nobles— sometimes, Klyn wanted to physically bash his head against the expensive obsidian brick, spare him another trip of the illustrious web of flattery and half-formed thoughts. It was somewhat grating, to privy to such details and be the one to entertain those wonderful little wonderful tidbits of information that was dragged from the lips those eager to spill. Pretentious and gaudy, as his lips puckered into a charming smile, a little fire feeding into his red irises, "Excuse me, the evening is young, a few associates are wanting my company," He didn't drop more than that, winding himself over the floor, his boots, a glide that was effortless to his cocky beat.

Spotting Seldanna was a simple affair, dragging his eyes over the wandering crowds, clamouring to get inside to appease the big dark lord on top. She was stark against the stone, and arguably, her expression blended all the same— but the pep in his step was unmistakable, "Hoping to blend into the stone are we?" He was quick to the draw, his voice was nothing but fluttery light and teasing, warmed up to the base when addressing people he actually liked. "Smile a little — you have the best seat in the house to the one show we put on every few months," He chuckled into his shoulder, "Lady Anna is currently having an affair with her bodyguard Ivan, her husband," He sighed sadly as if he was showing an attempt to be sympathetic. "Poor bless his dullard mind, doesn't have a clue and currently running himself into debt, hard times, wouldn't you say for the nobles?" He was grinning, obsequious to the knowledge that circulated the gossip circles in the courts and shelled out with a cruel tint. Klyn knew he had an aura that somewhat made conversation easy

Seldanna did not even need to look towards the sound , a familiar voice reverberated like an echo chamber in the elf's ears.

Kissing her teeth , the woman looked up and sighed before turning her gaze to his direction.

"Well if it isn't my favorite Cainhurst. She said in a snarky tone. You surprise me my lord, I almost thought you where busy this time."

Klyn , probably one of the only Cainhurst to induldge in conversation with her just because. Not that Seldanna minded persay, but with she was far from the most talkative and outgoing in Blackrock castle. Not only did Klyn have a silver tounge but his capacity to create conversation made him a popular Cainhurst child with everyone. Which was why she always found it odd he would instead spending those precious moments building connections for his family , would make it a routine to talk to her instead.

"Maybe you can smile my lord but its always the same nonsense , Would it not be interesting to see one of these adulterers get caught? Now that would be interesting to see."

"Perhaps you should get married Klyn , lets make a bet on if they would be a bedswerver or not." She almost chuckled at her remark , it definitely would of been something akin to a novella.

Kicking himself against the wall, the young lord was naturally relaxed— indulging Seldanna was a favourite pastime, furrowing a single eyebrow at the snarky remark. Perhaps that was the reasoning for always searching out the older maiden, too many servants, people, nobles— catered to his whims, and lacked any substance with his conversations.

"Never too busy for the notorious Lady Seldanna, a dangerous beauty," He quipped, rolling with the conversation, pressing one arm against his chest, raked over the crowds. It was enough for him to study the crowds, noticing the particular patterns of who went where and gathering inside. "Hm, interesting, maybe but it's so much more fun to twist them to your tune, secrets, are the greatest ammunition one could hope to have," He had many, was unspoken, in the rise of his sharp tongue and settled quietly.

"Are you offering to wed me dear Sel?" A look of 'surprise' framed his features, contorted unexpectedly at the 'offer' and gripping his chest, shifted to look dramatic as Klyn could ever hope to be. Which, in this instance, was a lot and eyes dangerously glinting with mirth— "What would the dark lord say, offering to marry one of his sons, my, the scandal would rock the very foundation of the courts!" Klyn was never afraid to playfully torment anybody either, teased through and through. The dark maidens weren't exempt either ;

"I suppose we have different perceptions on what ammunition one would rather have in hopes of besting someone." She stated quite plainly. Seldanna was not one with words like Klyn.

Seldanna almost choked on her own breath when he made such an extreme accusation. Of course she should not of been so surprised , knowing who she was talking to. Nevertheless her cheeks turned a purple-red hue , to even insinuate something like that made her flustered.

"Pffft , Must you say things so loudly? Lest you want to get the both of us in trouble." She ran her fingers through her hair before looking away at him. "I am not going to answer you Klyn. Anything I say will be used against me " She laughed slightly , he loved to catch people off guard , and Seldanna was never an exception.

"Perhaps if the Dark Lord arranged marriages , you would not have such a fast mouth."

Many had been flustered by Klyn, without any sense of restraint— the son of a courtesan with little doubt, propping his elbow against the side the ornate doors. "Trouble is all in the fun," He recited that often, to anyone who as going to listen to him and trademarked by his conversations, downgrading that to the lowest pit possible. His pupils dilated upon seeing someone, a noble family skirting on the outsides, accompanied by a swathe of undead and guards. It was rare for Klyn to be struck down and nor speechless, but for that minuscule second — that's what was dominated for him. He wound his arm back, slipping over the polished buttons and excellent tailor work that went into making his suit.

"If I was married, how else could we have our wonderful little chats, hm?" He snapped his eyes back, slipping a hand into his pocket and positioning himself close to the door, gearing up to move, which was another rare trait, featured with slicking his hair back with his other palm. He licked his lips, "Try to be a little patient with the dear masses who lick my father's boots," His attention was a little fractured, to say the least, out of all the noble families to show up, there was little anticipation to see them again. Threats never bothered Klyn but public outings and drama in the courts, around this time of year, well, prickled a little caution into his rebellious spirit. "Save a dance for me later, Lady Seldanna," He winked playfully — soon disappearing beyond the crowds, slipping in and out as easily as he had began the conversation. Oh, he was in for a rather delicious show with the courts tonight.

To think he'd see the splendorous beauty of Cecilia again, daughter, a pure flower that had been plucked from the ripe bed of marriage and sealed with a rather unfortunate counter with himself truly. It hadn't taken much, a little wine, a compliment or two — besmirching the family into the waiting hands of the scheming nobles, rumours that had assuredly taken them down a notch [adding another to his] Severa was going to be disappointed.

Seldanna watched as Klyn left , almost as quick as he appeared. She already knew that he was going to get himself into trouble.

It would almost be a boring event if he did not.

Mentions : Asherah( koala ) Sepulcher( Pilgrim59 ) Arkoth( Athanas ) Severa( Avari )

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

Clarisse Laxai & Elazer Cainhurst
Accompanied by Lady Fray & Dark Maiden Sever



Elazer was not usually one to allow his anger to get the better of him, often being a voice of reason, if a mildly erratic one, in most situations. This fact would undoubtedly make the image of Elazer incoherently screaming as he repeatedly kicked the pile of horse bits seem a rather odd sight. "BLOODY FUCKING PIECE OF-GAHHH!" The man screamed in pain as he kicked a large twisted chunk of metal that had been embedded into the flesh. After several moments of hopping around in agony, Elazer would finally drop to the ground beside the wagon, the left rear wheel having been broken. "This is just great, The wagon's broken, my stupid piece of mincemeat has fallen apart, and we're still ages away from anything one could remotely consider civilized, all with a fucking abyss undead regularly freeing itself and trying to kill us. And to top it all off, I'll bet she's already asleep again!" Elazer wasn't sure who he was screaming all of this to. Obviously not Sever, though it wasn't really towards himself either. As he thought this, a piercing pain would stab into his mind, a dark image floating in his eyes.

Could it- No, no no no, it was simply a trick of the eye caused by the migraine, that was all. Nothing he need concern himself with, at least, not until he got back to Blackrock. After a few moments thinking to himself, Elazer jumped back to his feet, the dirt and rocks beneath his feet crunching as he did so, the closest thing to a plan coming to his mind, the "Plan" being to hitch a ride. If that were even possible, considering where they were. But hell, it wasn't like they were getting any younger.

The half vampire leaned her head against the window of the silent carriage, not wishing to engage in more conversation. Having an opportunity to visit Blackrock itself - only to be relegated to child's playmate, the indignity of it all! She could have screamed, but instead she hunched her shoulders, staring out at the world rolling by only to frown as she caught sight of what appeared to be a wagon stopped in the road with a pile of flesh sitting in front of it. "There's someone stopped in the road...Should we stop?" A measured pause, before she adds, "They can't be a very good necromancer if their horse fell apart, though."

Lady Fray lazily waved off her question as she glanced out the window.
"Sweetie we can't go stopping for strangers on the road. They could be - By the Gods, is that Lord Elazer??"
The noble woman immediately rapped the roof of the carriage with her cane, bidding the driver to stop. With surprising speed, Lady Fray quickly dove into her handbag and produced a small ornate mirror - apparently to check her makeup. Before practically kicking the door to the carriage open.

"Lord Elazer!" She cried, waving her cane in the air. "Lord Elazer is that you my dear boy??"

"Why, if it isn't Lady Fray! It is most certainly I, and in a spot of trouble, as it would seem that my own means of travel has utterly fallen apart," Elazer would say, motioning towards the remains of his creation. "It's what happens when one works with low quality materials, after all, but it was simply the best I could obtain at the time." As the young man spoke, Elazer would jaunt over, a slight limp visible in his gait as he favored his left leg.

"Now I must ask, shall we make with all those stuffy formalities that are ever so popular among the courts, or may we skip them for now so that we can really get to the meat of this conversation and ask for your assistance with our little situation?" The Cainhurst questioned with a playful tone. "I must also say that I would be ever so appreciative of any aid you could provide," Having a Cainhurst in your debt would be quite the prize for any noble, ambitious or no.

Lady Fray didn't seem to be quite taking in his words, staring at him with something of a slack jawed expression.
"I thought the Dark Lord had sent you to the Wastes? Half the Nobles had given you up for dead! Well - certainly not me of course - not to worry, my dear Clarisse here is awfully strong you know. I'm sure she could be of help..."

She turned and suddenly snapped at whoever was in the carriage.
"Darling will you stop hiding and get out here to offer Lord Elazer a hand?? Such rudeness!"

Clarisse had been watching the goings-on through the window. She wasn't shy - no, far from it - but she had wanted to wait a little while before leaving the relative safety of the carriage. She had yet to meet any of the Cainhurst's in person, despite having heard plenty about the family from Lady Fray. She frowned as she was forcibly volunteered to help with the nobleman's travel troubles and she sighed as she rooted through a small pouch attached to her hip, fishing out a small vial full of suspiciously red liquid.
Downing it in one gulp, the half vampire pulled a face - blood was always best straight from the source, and the longer it was stored the less appetizing it got but at least it had done it's job. Without needing to check she knew that her eyes would have flared red, and so she waited a second more before stepping out, long enough for them to fade back to a violet hue.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," A sunny smile, "How can I be of assistance?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry about being rude with me, my young compatriot. Now, we have a rather sensitive... package in the back of our cart which tends to prove troublesome even to Lady Sever, so I would suggest you enlist her aid, if you can wake her up, of course." Elazer would explain, a slight smile on his lips. "Oh, and thank you very much... hmm, it would seem I never caught your name, my lady."

As if she'd believe that rudeness was fine with one of the Cainhurst nobles. He could tell her that casual informality was fine, expected, even and the next second order her head to be cleaved from her shoulders for said rudeness. Still, the half vampire wouldn't voice these opinions, just taking a half step towards the stricken wagon before he asked her name. She gave him a bright smile, inclining her head slightly. "Clarisse Laxei, at your service."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Written with Avari & WillfulWren ​

 

[Avari]

CHAPTER I:
Reign of a Dark Lord



THE BLACK COURT



The bells of Blackrock's tallest tower began to ring, the resounding call that meant only one thing:

The Black Court was about to begin.

The conversations of the Nobles stopped in an instant as in practiced form, they moved now in silence towards their destination. There was a roar of metallic thundering as the gigantic whirling gears that were used to open the great door that led to the Throne room of Blackrock castle slowly opened, spilling warm light from within.

The throne room of Blackrock was a jewel box. Every massive stone pillar was elaborately carved with dark scripture and symbols of strength, with sculptures of thorns twisting up their length to the distant ceiling. Fine tapestries lined the walls, and silken banners brandishing the symbol of the Cainhurst family were blazoned proudly upon them. Thousands of candles floated serenely in the air, giving the massive room a warm glow that somehow still felt uninviting and ominous. Every surface was polished like armor, and the crimson red carpet that led the breadth of the room was without mark.

But the grandeur of this most mighty of rooms was never what one would watch upon seeing inside. There was only one thing that demanded the full attention of your eyes.

At the far end of the room, sat upon a throne crafted from black onyx and deep purple gemstones sat a giant of a man. He wore ornate golden armor that covered every part of his body, intricately detailed with the faces of horned demons. Upon his head was a tall crown of white gold spires, that only served to make him look even taller - towering over his guests even as he sat.
A man of advanced years that had not softened the cold, hard expression upon his face. In his right hand, he rested the cruel great sword known as Ninniel - itself larger than any man.

The Dark Lord himself, Ulfric Cainhurst.



The last of the Nobles filtered inside, taking preordained positions on each side of the room - three ranks deep.
There were three however, that stepped forward and took far more important positions.
The first was Lord Albert Crow - the head steward of Blackrock. He elegantly appeared at the left side of the throne, and had done it so naturally and silently that it was almost as if he had been there all along.
The second was Lady Lucrezia, a small smirk on her face as she took her position on Ulfric's right side - her yellow eyes looking down upon the nobles gathered as she did so.
Finally, Ulfric's eldest daughter - Lady Severa - sat herself down comfortably at her father's feet. The Spider Lily of Blackrock seemed more interested in picking at one of her nails with her dagger - but all those that had gathered knew that she was watching for even the smallest hint of weakness. It would not be the first time that the blood of one of the Black Court's guests had been split at her hands.

Finally, at long last the bells stopped ringing. The great doors closed, and all looked onto the Dark Lord who nodded solemnly.

He spoke quietly, but his voice boomed to every corner of the room nonetheless.

"I, Ulfric Cainhurst - first of my name and Lord of Hollowvale bid thee welcome. Render your requests onto me so that I might pass judgement."



----

This is the first part of the Black Court post, the second will be a collab between several players. I'm very sorry, it was supposed to be done today but I've had a crazy couple of days!
Once that post is complete, Night 1 will begin in earnest with something of a "Black Court after-party" so just bare with me a few days and then posts can resume!


​

 

[Avari]

THE BLACK COURT
Written with Dalamus Ulom Kent NoQuillToLive

Due to time zone constraints this post was unfortunately not finished in time, below is a draft of what had been written so far, followed by some bullet points of the main unwritten plot points of the post.

Apologies!

----
​

The beginning of the Black Court was a surprisingly calm and rather dull affair - not what an outsider would expect from a large group of Dark Mages conspiring together. There were no sacrifices of children, or sinister laughter; no blood running down stone steps or plans of world conquest. What there was in their place was discussion of trade routes, of taxes and adjustments of laws. If one happened to be a Church of Light spy, no doubt they might even feel a small twinge of disappointment.

It was a practiced and civilized process, where monsters wore masks of courtesy. A noble would step forward, bow deep to the Dark Lord - and keep their eyes looking at the floor - and Ulfric would gesture them to speak with a single gruff word. Discussions about new trades to be made with the Dwarves, new defenses for Dawnfall, Vinistead requesting the resources to build additional trade ships, a few more tense reports from Bloodguard agents who had been spying on their hated neighbors. A rather mad noble who requested to have the law of courtship changed so that he could marry an Undead woman he had recently resurrected (The Dark Lord curtly informed him that he should have considered the law before murdering her after daring to decline his advances, and to go find someone with a heartbeat).

All in all, it seemed that nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen. Severa hadn’t looked up from her nails for almost an hour, except to offer a sly smile to a few of her siblings when they made brief eye contact.

That was until the next noble took a step forward.

--

Every few months, one had to endure the overall sordidness that this thing perpetuated, a dalliance between supremacy and who did that well. The coin was flipped over his knuckles, running along with his thoughts, pressing the rusted edge between the indents of his hands, boredom that was seeping into his skull. Entertainment was scarce— unless you selected that batshit fellow, requesting to marry his dead— suitor? Sad, poor, pathetic man, Klyn mused with a little string of laughter, poured out from cocky lips and trying to keep himself in check, the court was in session. What a ridiculous session, though, what was next? Someone wanted to marry an undead cow? Chicken? Everything was pompous down to the tapestries and nobles lining up.

But such silence was interrupted with the introduction of another, acutely stout, bustling his fingers up to his horrid colored lapel's. Balding, barely confined into his waistcoat and a wave of anger that was about boil over — an angry little teapot, Klyn decided, as the man refused to bow to the Dark Lord, favoring to glare all his might towards one of the youngest sons, digging his fingernails into the fabric. "You!" It was sputtered with such indignation, Klyn shifted in the noble crowds, flipping the coin into the air and catching that with a dip of his fingers, winking at the noble. "You have besmirched my family!" He yelled, sweat, garnishing his cheeks, rising with anger to approach. "She- my darling jewel was going to bring us out of ruin! Kaylocks were finally gaining ahead but yet— we have suffered nothing but mockery! Rumors!"

"You would dare-" Severa hissed, looking like a coiled snake waiting to strike - only for Ulfric to place a gigantic hand on her head to silence her. He gazed at the rabid noble, who had at least the survival instinct to stop ranting for a moment.

"Lord Kaylock," Ulfric growled, his gaze icy cold. "I have always believed you to be a man of practicality and pragmatism. Pray, explain to us why you seem so intent on dying today."

"Hm, I am starting to see that Cecilia didn't take after you," Kyln merely fathomed, what a delicate beauty she was. Black locks and big wide eyes— he did, admittedly have a thing for black hair [weak in the knees] and placed a hand over his hip, slanting with all the confidence that made his eyes dazzle.

"You have no right in ushering her name! The Kaylocks should be recompensed for this tragedy!" The noble was just one hitch away from blowing out his lungs, hands, grasping tighter and looking far angrier than Klyn would have given the situation.

"She was pure! Until that vile, odious serpent captured my little flower!"

An audible ring of gasps fluttered, a few enjoying the display and others, horrified all at once— for the noble, Kaylocks not deigning his dark grace the proper respect and the drama that was assuredly Klyn's fault. It was a devolving scene of disrespect, perhaps even the undead sparked a little shudder at the very nature of ignoring court etiquette. An introduction that ignored the one currently holding power at the helm and Klyn didn't do anything to suppress the grin that was mounting at his expression, pawed with a little flicker of amusement that didn't go unnoticed by the Head of the Kaylock family.

--

Albert was observing the proceedings with a neutral face from where he stood, taking notes in his mind and advising the Dark Lord when needed but he couldn't help to frown with the current situation, although it was only for a moment before he reverted to what was considered his 'normal' expression. He looked at the foolish noble with deep eyes before directing his gaze to the young Cainhurst who seemed to be the root of this problem. This particular child has always brought Albert nothing but trouble. He always have to clean up his mess often times in secret but Kyln seems to never learn. Albert could be considered aware of this matter but he didn't clean it up since he was interested how this budding noble would confront the Cainhurst troublemaker but he didn't expect the utter stupidity of this noble whose mind seemed to be devoid of any reason to actually disregard the absolute authority before him. It seems that there is gonna be one less idiot in Hollowvale after this Court session. Albert decided not to interject and continued to watch how this situation will develop while tapping his fingers on his cane.

--

There was a sudden, deafening bang that echoed throughout the Throne Room as the Dark Lord cracked Ninnel into the hard stone floor. Purple clouds of magic flew out in all directions as a crackle of energy glowed angrily around Ulfric's form. The whispers were silenced as quickly as they had started.

There was silence as the Dark Lord waited for a few moments, ensuring his command of the room was absolute.

"My patience grows thin, it would be unwise to test it further. Speak plainly and concisely, Lord Kaylock for your life may now depend upon it. What charge do you bring forward against a son of Cainhurst?"

Lord Kaylock straightened his fingers, bustling up, arching his spine, suddenly remembering who he was about to address. "My lord," He spoke with a little edge of hatred, simpered towards the very son. "That very son of yours cajoled my daughter, to commit an unbelievable act when she was to be wed." He was shaking slightly, all that anger had been carrying the noble, seemed to have somewhat vanished underneath of display. "He tampered with a deal already struck— for surely he is a wolf, preying on the daughters and young ones of the court, those inexperienced to be swept by his whims. A disgrace to your name, my lord, and all you have built. I merely wish for a chance to avenge my family, to stake my pride on rebuilding us once more." He was now humbled, in his words, spinning a fetching table, as Klyn shrugged in the background, faded noise that didn't deny and nor accept. "He ruined a deal between families, he doesn't support the courts - he spits on them."

There were hushed whispers throughout the court. Disbelief from many, barely hidden glee from others. Both Severa and Lucrezia looked like they were about to split flame any moment. Ulfric however, didn't seem to care about the prattling - his eyes fixed on the boy who had seemingly caused this mess.

"Boy." He said, his eyes practically on fire. It was only a short time until someone was goingto pay for it. "Did that foolish girl consent to your advances?"

There were very few people that Klyn would respect, but he was unconsciously pushing his shoulders forward and tightened his fingers, entangled in front of his lower stomach. "Enthusiastically," He motioned with his little thumb, glinting with sharp teeth, an answer that was just reflected in the spiralling staircase of his neverending wild eyes. Ah, what a night to remember and carved for the years to look back on, one of his many trysts that had ended in passion. "I believe her words were, 'finally, some fun away from my pain in the ass fath--"

"Enough." Ulfric growled, and he gazed down at both of them - his aged face lined with impatience. his attention went to Lord Kaylock first.

"As your daughter was of weak will, no law has been broken. However, if it is honor that you demand...it will be paid in blood."

The Dark Lord raised his great blade to the ceiling, its sharp edges glittering grimly in the candlelight.

"In Blood!" He roared, his voice impossibly loud - the entire room shaking from the sound of it. The two ranks of Dark Mages all took a step back in unison. klyn and Kaylock found themselves in the middle of the room, completely exposed. Lord Kaylock - to his very limited credit - stood firm, even though what little color he possessed had promptly drained from his face.

"In blood!" The nobles all chorused back.

Severa however, was on her feet. She had turned to her father, looking horrified.

"Father, let me fight in my brothers place, He's just a bab-"

"Silence, you foolish girl!" Ulfric hissed and she shrank back, flinching, grasping her arm as if she had been burned. The Dark Lord turned his attention back to the Court, who were still chanting "In blood! In blood! In blood!"

"In Blood indeed! Lord Kaylock, you may have my son's head in payment for his sins...if you can take it."

The Dark Lord glanced at Klyn, his expression truly horrible to behold.

"Prove yourself worthy of your name, boy. You know what happens to failures."

--

Oh, that was never a good thing, feeling the absolute power that pulsed throughout the courts, a velvet rope that was suffocating and all-encompassing, with Klyn rocking onto his feet. His eyes softened at the interruption of his older sister to fight on his behalf — something that warmed inside of his ribcage and gave her an encouraging nod, that he'd be okay, mostly, at least to his egotistical sense of pride. In blood— In blood— entertaining to watch but such entertainment lost any novelty when you were the participant. No, this was a spectacle, just another opportunity to cull another from the group and only the strong survive. He didn't miss the way his jaw jutted, firmly nodding "Understood," A word that wasn't coated in the sugary mess of his cockiness, and for once, taking something seriously that didn't result in him acting so frivolous.

Lord Kaylock relaxed his shoulders, despite all physical appearance, a little bit of his energy was squeezed between his fingers. Initially nervous, there was much to be thankful for what transpired in the last few seconds, a duel of honour, ah that was wonderful news. A chance to finally take down the pesky brat, restore his influence and regain a seat at the table, respectively that could be achieved with removing the head of one troublesome child. "In blood," He echoed that clearly, mimicking the nobles and dark mages, chorusing in with a final note.

Lord Kaylock wasn't no time, commanding the powers of the necromancy, a broken hourglass, sand, that crept along with the tips of his gloved fingers and bounded, taking shape into an undead shape. It was weaker, without the necessary materials to construct something more whole, but the drooling half-amassed entity indeed was going to be the best alternative, against Klyn didn't have any means to summon anything in response— launched forward, as the second youngest son to the Cainhurt family, easily dodged, pivoting onto the soles of his feat and swept an arch behind him, a careful twist and an easy one to perform.

But who said Lord Kaylock merely had one trick up his sleeve? Throwing a hand back and as spirals of energy collided into the air, obsidian-like spears was now going for Klyn, a bloodhound on the peak of his scent.

Klyn's hand was quick to the coil, outlining one sigil in the air, invoked, as the letter glimmered and exploded, reflecting the spears against the sides of the walls, crashing into pieces with the sheer force alone.

A reflection rune - conjured up his whimsical mind and put to work immediately.

Lord Kaylock spluttered with an angry exhale, tightening more power into the abomination, "Attack," And this time the undead was a little more pumped, being fed power from the plump socialite— as Klyn was finding his footing, undead or no, he'd succeed, moving his hands into the air, drawing more letters into existence and gleamed, a different light that enveloped the arcane language. An explosion this time, loud and disruptive, consuming the area with a burst of explosive intent. Sadly, Lord Kaylock protected himself with a well-crafted shield, as the undead crumpled, smacked into something else in the makeshift dueling arena.

Patience was now beginning to fray on the old noble, a cainhurst, yes, but physically able and less gifted in the realm of necromancy was signs, knowledgeable signs that he, the senior dark mage should be winning.

"There are lessons to be learned boy, your status won't protect you forever and your standing is becoming shakier," The noble bellowed, striking his hand forward, this time, the energy cackled and drove forward, with Klyn hit in the side of the hip, pushed back and unmistakably crashed to the floor.

Klyn winced, hands, holding his hip, as Lord Kaylock finally smiled, hulking one step against the floor and approached the poor stricken boy. "You're going to perish, never to be seen-"

A rune twinkled, etched into the stone, briefly, hard to miss and Klyn wound his head over his shoulder, a playful expression that danced with the utter brashness. "Never to be seen? Something that could be said for something else," He amusedly, pointed out and the rune exploded— another explosive rune that sent the poor noble flying, with enough momentum, a pig flying into the air and battered against one of the pillar, as he spluttered.

Klyn shifted his leg underneath him, reeling himself to his feet, skidding his boots to his right and waved.

Klyn swirled another rune in the air, a fire rune that was compacted, steadying into a stream and unleashed all over the poor noble, somewhat dizzy from the pounding to the headache. The fire was small at best, licking away at the bare skin and turning clothing to ash. As Lord Kaylock grasped some precious bits and waddled from the pillar, anger, teeth grinding together. "You-" For once, Lord Kaylock had no words, as something larger and meaner was conjured, stitched up the remnants of the dark mage's remaining ability.

Huh, Klyn thought, the old man wasn't just all words, remaking another creation, substantially bigger and he doubted the simplistic nature of an explosive rune was going to complete the job this time.

"Attack." The command was ushered, semi-large creation moved, mangled hands that were going to swoop him to the other side. Patches of yellow and bruised flesh had almost taken Klyn's head, but ducked, effortlessly, as he tutted at the noble. "Kaylock, surely, as someone of your standing could do better?" He mocked, skirting one boot behind his leg and backing up, eyes flickering to the creation and to the red face of the noble, still standing around in his bare feet. "A disappointment in all areas." He shook his head, whilst his eyes glinting.

taking a few steps, committing to a wide arc, and waited. "You know, even your own daughter was happy to get rid of you just for a night. It didn't take much, a compliment or two, she willingly gave herself up-"

The noble yelled, lungs, overtaxed with the screech and the undead abomination, knocked back against the pillar and that was done, clean in half and Lord Kaylock was smothered by the rumble, gasping, clawing for air, as the undead creation had simply flickered out, no longer a puppet on it's strings.

Klyn did make a visible show to cringe, sauntering over, whistling lowly at the poor state of Lord Kaylock, submerged by the fancy stone and material. He climbed over, sitting on the back of the noble, scooting some of the debris away and found the head of the Kaylock family, pasty, and coated with a layer of dust. "Yield and I won't have to kill you." "Never-" Kaylock coughed, scrounging his fingers behind him but Klyn didn't like the answer, fingers, pinching the air and sighed, dramatically.

"You know I have a few runes, explosive and reflection scratch the surface of the arcane language is. It's like drawing! There's so many combinations, so much to do and I've been wanting to test out a few variations," He whispered, deadly, narrowing the rune, inch by inch, close to ignition.

"I- I- yield!" He thundered out a pained laugh, on the brink of crying and with the pain— he couldn't stand much more and Klyn stood up, arching his boot over the spine of the noble. "Blood has been paid."

Klyn was going to feel this in the morning, no doubt, true, he hadn't won on the sheer prowess of combat, but riling up the man and humiliating him were his own tools. He nodded individually each of his siblings.

I am fine.

--


Unfinished Part summary:

With no official announcement, Elazer sweeps into the Throne room much to the shock of everyone present - including Ulfric. The Dark Lord asks if Elazer has succeeded in unlocking the secrets of the Abyss, Elazar admits he hasn't. Ulfric informs him that failing his duty means his life is forfeit. Elazar gleefully has the Abyss Zombie carted in. More shock. Ulfric spends a good thirty minutes casting numerous dark magicks at the Zombie in an attempt to control it. Nothing works, but he acknowledges his sons resourcefulness and tenacity, and commands him to research this creature with whatever resources he requires. Lucrezia asks where Sever is - turns out she's asleep in the hallway.

The Court is ended. ​

 

[Avari]

CHAPTER I:
Reign of a Dark Lord



Deadline: 24/06/2020

----



With the rather tense and dramatic Black Court completed, the elite of Hollowvale are free to enjoy the rest of the evening as honored guests of Blackrock.
The Dining hall has been repurposed for the evening for what can really only be described as a "Party" - bards are playing music, Neko'sha dancers, there is roaring laughter and perhaps a few fights here and there. The tables are heaving with food and drink as everyone socializes freely under the watchful eyes of the Bloodguard.

The Dark Lord himself sits at the head table, in deep conversation with a few of his closer allies.

All players and characters are present at this gathering!
​

 

[IG42]

Shizuka Gozen
Ambling through the hall Shizuka considered the dramatic show he had witnessed at court, it was far from uncommon for his own people to settle disputes by fighting but they generally refrained from using their magic preferring to pit their physical strength against each other. More interesting to him had been the unexpected arrival of Elazer Cainhurst, the Dread Wastes were a massive unexploited area of land and the Abyss was the biggest mystery in Hollowvale, if he could get a foot in the door on either issue it would be quite the coup within the court.

Now moving with purpose he searched the crowd for the long-lost lordling but instead found his path blocked by a particularly smarmy lord he would quite like to see lost for a very long time. "Lord Gozen how nice to see you, I've been interested in your work and wondered you would be interested in a little challenge?" A series of low growls emanated from his side and Shizuka looked down at the repulsive sight of a large wolf with two extra heads haphazardly attached to it's shoulders and it's tail replaced by a thick bodied snake, it's eyes held the distinctive glow of a reanimated creature. "I would like to pit my creation here against your pet to test it's efficacy." Shizuka simply smiled and nodded politely. "That sounds like a most intriguing idea, I accept of course."

A few minutes later the botched cerberus lay broken on the floor in a hastily cleared circle with it's tail and one of the extra heads torn off entirely and another barely still attached while Nue was barely scratched and was batting the still snapping severed head playfully. "A most illuminating experience I hope, in future do keep in mind that simply stitching parts together does nothing to make them cooperate and that tails are often important for balance." With a mocking bow he called Nue back to his side and resumed his search.

After making a short detour to grab some food to reward his pet he finally spotted his objective and made his way over. "My Lord Elazer." He bowed in Hinokahn fashion. "I am Lord Shizuka Gozen of Dawnfall, allow me to congratulate you on your successes in the Abyss. I would be most grateful to hear more about your experiences in the Dread Wastes, perhaps then I could find some way to assist you in your research?"

Dalamus Ulom

 

[Dalamus Ulom]

Elazer Cainhurst


Elazer still had sweat running down his back despite the chill, even though he had survived the Black Court intact, and had even managed to impress his own father. But this time, the nervous sweat was not from fear for his own safety, but for the expression that had passed over The Dark Lord's face for the briefest of moments, one that told Elazer that he was not expected, nay, not meant to survive his expedition, let alone succeed in any capacity. But why? Why had the Dark Lord, his own father, sent him on a suicide mission? What he done to deserve such a punishment? Was it his mother's death? But why so long after her demise? Maybe some other slight that Elazer could not even remember? Or. . . . or could the rumors that he had been hearing be true? Could his father truly be going insane, losing his mind as he slowly weakened physically? No, that couldn't be, Elazer could not, would not believe such a slanderous idea. And yet if the evidence was there, he could find it if he looked.

But would he?

Elazer's reeling thoughts would be interrupted as a little fight was set up between Lord Gozen's chimera and a noble that had made a piss poor attempt at creating his own makeshift chimera. The sight of such a horrendously made abomination was enough to distract the young Cainhurst from the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind a few moments before. Simply by looking at the stitched creation, Elazer was able to see that the man had never read anything by Lady Lordvina or himself. There was no metal reinforcement, no balanced reallocation of mass, no application of ectoplasm to reinvigorate the necrotic flesh. Hell, the bastard hadn't even stitched it well! So, to see the failure-of-a-creation be utterly annihilated brought a smile to the necromancer's lips.

A short time later, the Oni lord approached. "Thank you, Lord Gozen, it is an honor to finally have a face to go with the name. However, I would much sooner forget the Wastes as well as I can then refresh my memory of them. I will say, though, that it was a. . . morbid experience. As for aiding me with my research into the Abyss Undead, I am quite certain my fa- er, I mean, our Dark Lord would rather I work on it alone. After all, the more people who work on it, the more likely someone will let slip some important bit of information to the wrong person, and that could cause a butterfly effect that would eventually lead to the destruction of Hollowvale, and all our deaths. We wouldn't want that, now would we?" A jovial smile would flit across the Cainhurst's face, a rather odd sight considering the monocle-like piece of machinery where his left eye should have been.

"But, I do believe you could aid me in my personal research," Elazer said as he would pull out a small journal from within his apron, opening it up to reveal it's contents were filled to the brim with odd equations and sketches of strange beings made out of flesh and steel that were seamlessly interwoven. "If I could apply your magic to my creations, I believe that would make it so that an application of ectoplasm would no longer be necessary, allowing the spiritual interference to be greatly reduced, which could introduce so, sooo many possibilities. Of course, that is, if your magic is able to meld the organic and inorganic. Otherwise it's back to square . . . two? Or maybe three. Not square one, as it'd still mean I wouldn't have to stitch the things anymore. Unless it also doesn't work on dead or necrotic flesh. In which case we would definitely be back to square one."




Mentions: IG42 ​