MagicPenguin
One Thousand Club
Derwin Shaw
Dining Hall
After the grim events of the Black Court, the downright festive atmosphere in the Dining Hall was, for most in attendance, a welcome change of pace. The dark colors and foreboding architecture of the throne room during the proceedings now gave way to the Dining Hall's bright lighting and inviting design. The effect of the change of scenery on the guests was palpable: joyous laughter and drunken revelry replaced the tense silence and nervous shuffling of feet that was evident during the Court. The sound of clinking silverware and raucous cheering from the innumerable lower tables where the lesser nobles and merchants sat permeated the dining hall. Servants skittered like busy insects in a vast hive between these many low tables arranged in orderly columns, ensuring the guests' every whim was seen to with the utmost expediency. The enchanting music of the most skilled bards and troubadours that Hollowvale had to offer drifted in the background of all the merriment, spinning elaborate tales of the great heroes, mighty villains, and beautiful princesses of Aether's past, and, most of all, of the grand deeds and legendary exploits of the mighty Dark Lord who took Hollowvale by force and made it his own.
Even the intimidating presence of the said Dark Lord himself, situated at the center of the high table at the dining hall's back wall and surrounded by his family seated to either side of him, was not enough to smother the jovial climate pervading the rest of the room. The High Lord of Hollowvale looked as grim and taciturn as ever, despite his surroundings. In addition to his children, he was surrounded by his most decorated generals and closest advisors, as if he were in a tent in the middle of a battlefield preparing to fight a war rather than at a merry banquet held in his family's honor.
If there was anyone besides the Dark Lord who was immune to the light atmosphere of the party, it was the soldiers dressed in brilliant crimson who dotted the crowds and tables at regular intervals. While the partygoers sat and ate and drank and sang, the men and women of the Bloodguard stood at attention, ever watchful in case of danger. When the occasional drunken quarrel broke out because of this petty noble or that one--inevitable at an event like this one--a red-clothed figure was always quick to intervene, de-escalating if possible and cracking skulls if not. They were the epitome of discipline. Blackrock's rank-and-file foot-soldiers might have been tempted by all the delicious food and drink surrounding them to indulge themselves just a little when no one was looking, but not the Bloodguard. The elite of the elite, they remained vigilant and laser-focused on performing their duties with ruthless efficiency.
This was true of no one more than their captain. Derwin Shaw stood behind the high table, a little behind and to the right of the Dark Lord, though he was not involved in the man's conversation. Instead, he was busy conferring with one of his top lieutenants, coordinating the efforts of all Bloodguard present within the Dining Hall. Though the numbers had dwindled for now, he was earlier surrounded by a crowd of red-cloaked subordinates all looking for his guidance on any number of matters related to their duties. He felt as though he'd been speaking to one person after another since the party started, answering questions and solving problems without even a moment's pause.
"...Alright," he was saying to the woman, "if they've returned, then have Viska and Marshal take over for Monta and Arkoth on the East side. And make sure Arkoth knows that if he's even a minute late in returning to his post, I'll have his sorry hide for a new rug. Oh, and if you see him, tell Beeker I said to watch out for Lord Ambecrombie. He gets feisty when the brandy starts flowing. And don't forget that..." The woman he was talking to could only nod diligently, listening in rapt attention to the seemingly never-ending flow of last minute orders flowing from Derwin's mouth.
He was presently figuring out how to manage his men so he could relieve them in twos and threes for a thirty minute break. Busy as the Black Court was, many of them had been on duty all day without a chance even to eat, and despite their outward appearance of discipline, he knew the sight and smell of all this food would take its toll on them. This included Derwin himself, though he ignored his own stomach's angry rumbling. He believed it was the duty of a leader to make sure his men were seen to first when possible.
When the lieutenant saluted and ran off to relay her messages, Derwin looked about for the next subordinate who had a problem for him to solve. He was surprised to find that he was suddenly by himself for the first time since the Black Court ended, without any soldiers to crowd around him or any orders to give. He couldn't help but release a deep, pent up sigh of relief. The moment of silence probably wouldn't last long before someone else came to see him, so, maintaining his vigilant eye on the Cainhursts at the high table in front of him, he slouched against the back wall to take some of the pressure off of his aching feet. He hadn't had a chance to properly sit since before he'd flown on Athena earlier in the day and didn't expect one until well after the party ended.
On instinct, he looked about the room for Athena, expecting to find the greedy wyvern begging someone for scraps, until he remembered that she'd long ago tired of the humans' strange rituals and habits and had whined at Derwin until he allowed her to leave the banquet to go hunting outside for her own dinner. Part of him envied her; he wished he were with her, flying free of all the petty entanglements that this duty sometimes entailed.
He smelt her before he saw her. The reek of rot and the too familiar stench of long dead corpses. Derwin abandoned his relaxed slouch immediately, tense and ready for anything. He managed to keep his hand from flying to his greatsword, Gurgurant's, hilt.
"Derwin." A recognizable voice called to him breathlessly.
Sever, the Dark Maiden was standing right behind him. Her hair was caked in brown muck that he hoped was simply mud - her once purple armor was nearly unrecognizable, stained red and black. Her once perfect porcelain skin was covered in a mixture of unspeakable stains and dried fluids. Only her eyes seemed untouched - watching the captain with a dim expression.
In her arms was a creature of unmatched flesh, no larger than a new born baby. It mewled and gasped for air - it's saliva dripping onto her already filthy armor.
"I was looking for you."
"Lady Sever," Derwin greeted cordially, politely ignoring the offensive sights and smells the Dark Maiden brought with her. "What a...pleasant surprise...to see you here tonight, awake and alert." Quite an uncommon sight, that was for certain.
The filthy Maiden nodded slowly. She was practically swaying, as if she was going to collapse any moment. She took a moment to gently prise whatever monstrosity was currently grasping at her, and held it out to him. Immediately its two mismatched eyes - one blue, one green - locked on the captain, and it immediately began mewling and reaching for him with its three fleshy protrusions.
"I made this for you."
He fought the urge to recoil in disgust. "How delightful," he said. "May I ask what exactly it is that you have created?"
"They wanted to come home."
"They...?"
The creature gurgled. One of its blue eyes was awfully familiar. Derwin's eye widened in sudden realization. This creature was stitched together from the body parts of the fallen Bloodguard who had accompanied Prince Elazer to the Dread Wastes. It was much like one of the grotesque Chimeras from Lord Gozen and that foppish noble's little "duel" earlier, only this thing was made from people instead of animals.
This...thing...being held out before him was the lives with which that Abyss creature from the Black Court was purchased.
"I see," he said. "Thank you, Lady Sever." His thanks was genuine.
She was still holding the sad remains of his comrades, expecting him to take it. With sadness, he reached out to do just that. Unpleasant as it would be, Derwin knew he had to do the right thing. He'd take it outside and kill the creature, then make sure the remains received the respectful burial that those brave knights deserved.
Before he could take it, however, another familiar voice called out from close by.
"There you are, Sever. I've been looking for you everywhere!"
It was Lucrezia. She was holding a half empty glass of wine in her hand, and her expression was one of mild irritation and resignation.
Sever tilted her head at her elder, and the smallest of smiles appeared on her dirt caked lips.
"Lady Lucrezia, I missed you."
"I missed you too." Lucrezia sighed, but she looked rather glad to see her regardless. Then she frowned..
"Sever you smell like shit. Go have a bath for all our sakes. And take that...lovely little thing with you. I'll come see you later, alright?"
Derwin thought to protest, but decided to hold his tongue for now. He'd rather not contradict Lucrezia any more than he had to, and he suspected Sever would seek him out again to return it anyway. If not, he could make it a point to find her instead.
The dirty Maiden blinked slowly and gazed down at herself as if only just noticing her own appearance.
"...Oh."
"Indeed." Lucrezia said softly, as she gently nudged Sever away - towards the entrance. "Now off you go."
Sever glanced back at Derwin for a moment, then nodded and drifted away. The crowd giving her a rather wide berth as she did so.
Lucrezia grimaced, before taking a small sip of her wine.
"Sorry about that. She doesn't mean any harm."
"It's nothing," he replied, gaze still locked on the creature in her arms as she retreated.
"I wonder," he mused somberly, "if the souls of the flesh we reanimate with our magics can still feel the pain and suffering we inflict on their bodies...? Or are they well and truly beyond such mortal concerns?" He could only hope for the sakes of his departed subordinates that it was the latter.
The Elf regarded him with a interested expression for a moment, those piercing yellow eyes of hers watching him - before she chuckled and gestured to one of the maids carrying a rather heavy looking tray of wine. She was with them in a moment - and Lucrezia deftly lifted one of the glasses off the tray and held it out towards the Captain.
"You need a drink Derwin."
"Ha," he chuckled. "I appreciate the kind offer, but I'm still on duty," he said, politely declining the offered glass. It wouldn't do to start drinking on the job after he'd already given Arkoth a harsh lecture about doing just that. The Sorceress simply smiled and took it for herself, probably not expecting him to have taken it in the first place.
"In any event," he said, "forgive my rambling. It's been a long day and my tongue outpaces my brain."
He tried to change the subject to something less...grim.
"Tell me, how is the night treating you? Is the banquet to your satisfaction?"
Lucrezia was seemingly uninterested in Derwin's attempts at conversation and didn't reply. Her attention now on a specific pair in the crowd - Lady Noire and some stranger Derwin hadn't seen before. They seemed to be making awkward small talk. The Sorceress looked rather pleased at the sight.
"Huh," Derwin remarked. "Who is she? Never seen her before. A diplomat's relative...? I suppose it's good Lady Noire has someone her own age to talk to."
"Appearances never mean much here" Lucrezia replied, finishing her glass and handing it over to the maid.
Derwin looked again and noticed the girl's pointed ears.
"An elf...?" They did tend to be much older than they appeared.
Derwin wasn't entirely surprised that, instead of answering him, Lucrezia had already walked away. The First Maiden was higher functioning than Lady Sever, he supposed, but most of these Dark Maidens had horrible social skills. One of the very many costs of sacrificing one's soul for power, it seemed.
The Bloodguard captain returned his attention to the crowd and resumed his slouch from earlier, leaning against the wall to again give his tired feet a rest. He tried to return to the relaxed, contemplative mindset he'd been in before Lady Sever approached him, but it seemed impossible now. For no matter how he tried, he could not shake the image of that twisted little monster mewling and writhing in Sever's hands, its mismatched eyes pleading, reaching into the deepest depths of Derwin's soul, its deformed limbs extending out to him as if begging for salvation.
Uneasily, Derwin shuddered.
Written with:
Avari
(Sever, Lucrezia)
Interacted (sort of):
Athanas
(Arkoth)
Mentioned:
IG42
(Shizuka)
Dalamus Ulom
(Elazer)
UltrAiron
(Noire)
WillfulWren
(Clarrise)
Dining Hall
After the grim events of the Black Court, the downright festive atmosphere in the Dining Hall was, for most in attendance, a welcome change of pace. The dark colors and foreboding architecture of the throne room during the proceedings now gave way to the Dining Hall's bright lighting and inviting design. The effect of the change of scenery on the guests was palpable: joyous laughter and drunken revelry replaced the tense silence and nervous shuffling of feet that was evident during the Court. The sound of clinking silverware and raucous cheering from the innumerable lower tables where the lesser nobles and merchants sat permeated the dining hall. Servants skittered like busy insects in a vast hive between these many low tables arranged in orderly columns, ensuring the guests' every whim was seen to with the utmost expediency. The enchanting music of the most skilled bards and troubadours that Hollowvale had to offer drifted in the background of all the merriment, spinning elaborate tales of the great heroes, mighty villains, and beautiful princesses of Aether's past, and, most of all, of the grand deeds and legendary exploits of the mighty Dark Lord who took Hollowvale by force and made it his own.
Even the intimidating presence of the said Dark Lord himself, situated at the center of the high table at the dining hall's back wall and surrounded by his family seated to either side of him, was not enough to smother the jovial climate pervading the rest of the room. The High Lord of Hollowvale looked as grim and taciturn as ever, despite his surroundings. In addition to his children, he was surrounded by his most decorated generals and closest advisors, as if he were in a tent in the middle of a battlefield preparing to fight a war rather than at a merry banquet held in his family's honor.
If there was anyone besides the Dark Lord who was immune to the light atmosphere of the party, it was the soldiers dressed in brilliant crimson who dotted the crowds and tables at regular intervals. While the partygoers sat and ate and drank and sang, the men and women of the Bloodguard stood at attention, ever watchful in case of danger. When the occasional drunken quarrel broke out because of this petty noble or that one--inevitable at an event like this one--a red-clothed figure was always quick to intervene, de-escalating if possible and cracking skulls if not. They were the epitome of discipline. Blackrock's rank-and-file foot-soldiers might have been tempted by all the delicious food and drink surrounding them to indulge themselves just a little when no one was looking, but not the Bloodguard. The elite of the elite, they remained vigilant and laser-focused on performing their duties with ruthless efficiency.
This was true of no one more than their captain. Derwin Shaw stood behind the high table, a little behind and to the right of the Dark Lord, though he was not involved in the man's conversation. Instead, he was busy conferring with one of his top lieutenants, coordinating the efforts of all Bloodguard present within the Dining Hall. Though the numbers had dwindled for now, he was earlier surrounded by a crowd of red-cloaked subordinates all looking for his guidance on any number of matters related to their duties. He felt as though he'd been speaking to one person after another since the party started, answering questions and solving problems without even a moment's pause.
"...Alright," he was saying to the woman, "if they've returned, then have Viska and Marshal take over for Monta and Arkoth on the East side. And make sure Arkoth knows that if he's even a minute late in returning to his post, I'll have his sorry hide for a new rug. Oh, and if you see him, tell Beeker I said to watch out for Lord Ambecrombie. He gets feisty when the brandy starts flowing. And don't forget that..." The woman he was talking to could only nod diligently, listening in rapt attention to the seemingly never-ending flow of last minute orders flowing from Derwin's mouth.
He was presently figuring out how to manage his men so he could relieve them in twos and threes for a thirty minute break. Busy as the Black Court was, many of them had been on duty all day without a chance even to eat, and despite their outward appearance of discipline, he knew the sight and smell of all this food would take its toll on them. This included Derwin himself, though he ignored his own stomach's angry rumbling. He believed it was the duty of a leader to make sure his men were seen to first when possible.
When the lieutenant saluted and ran off to relay her messages, Derwin looked about for the next subordinate who had a problem for him to solve. He was surprised to find that he was suddenly by himself for the first time since the Black Court ended, without any soldiers to crowd around him or any orders to give. He couldn't help but release a deep, pent up sigh of relief. The moment of silence probably wouldn't last long before someone else came to see him, so, maintaining his vigilant eye on the Cainhursts at the high table in front of him, he slouched against the back wall to take some of the pressure off of his aching feet. He hadn't had a chance to properly sit since before he'd flown on Athena earlier in the day and didn't expect one until well after the party ended.
On instinct, he looked about the room for Athena, expecting to find the greedy wyvern begging someone for scraps, until he remembered that she'd long ago tired of the humans' strange rituals and habits and had whined at Derwin until he allowed her to leave the banquet to go hunting outside for her own dinner. Part of him envied her; he wished he were with her, flying free of all the petty entanglements that this duty sometimes entailed.
He smelt her before he saw her. The reek of rot and the too familiar stench of long dead corpses. Derwin abandoned his relaxed slouch immediately, tense and ready for anything. He managed to keep his hand from flying to his greatsword, Gurgurant's, hilt.
"Derwin." A recognizable voice called to him breathlessly.
Sever, the Dark Maiden was standing right behind him. Her hair was caked in brown muck that he hoped was simply mud - her once purple armor was nearly unrecognizable, stained red and black. Her once perfect porcelain skin was covered in a mixture of unspeakable stains and dried fluids. Only her eyes seemed untouched - watching the captain with a dim expression.
In her arms was a creature of unmatched flesh, no larger than a new born baby. It mewled and gasped for air - it's saliva dripping onto her already filthy armor.
"I was looking for you."
"Lady Sever," Derwin greeted cordially, politely ignoring the offensive sights and smells the Dark Maiden brought with her. "What a...pleasant surprise...to see you here tonight, awake and alert." Quite an uncommon sight, that was for certain.
The filthy Maiden nodded slowly. She was practically swaying, as if she was going to collapse any moment. She took a moment to gently prise whatever monstrosity was currently grasping at her, and held it out to him. Immediately its two mismatched eyes - one blue, one green - locked on the captain, and it immediately began mewling and reaching for him with its three fleshy protrusions.
"I made this for you."
He fought the urge to recoil in disgust. "How delightful," he said. "May I ask what exactly it is that you have created?"
"They wanted to come home."
"They...?"
The creature gurgled. One of its blue eyes was awfully familiar. Derwin's eye widened in sudden realization. This creature was stitched together from the body parts of the fallen Bloodguard who had accompanied Prince Elazer to the Dread Wastes. It was much like one of the grotesque Chimeras from Lord Gozen and that foppish noble's little "duel" earlier, only this thing was made from people instead of animals.
This...thing...being held out before him was the lives with which that Abyss creature from the Black Court was purchased.
"I see," he said. "Thank you, Lady Sever." His thanks was genuine.
She was still holding the sad remains of his comrades, expecting him to take it. With sadness, he reached out to do just that. Unpleasant as it would be, Derwin knew he had to do the right thing. He'd take it outside and kill the creature, then make sure the remains received the respectful burial that those brave knights deserved.
Before he could take it, however, another familiar voice called out from close by.
"There you are, Sever. I've been looking for you everywhere!"
It was Lucrezia. She was holding a half empty glass of wine in her hand, and her expression was one of mild irritation and resignation.
Sever tilted her head at her elder, and the smallest of smiles appeared on her dirt caked lips.
"Lady Lucrezia, I missed you."
"I missed you too." Lucrezia sighed, but she looked rather glad to see her regardless. Then she frowned..
"Sever you smell like shit. Go have a bath for all our sakes. And take that...lovely little thing with you. I'll come see you later, alright?"
Derwin thought to protest, but decided to hold his tongue for now. He'd rather not contradict Lucrezia any more than he had to, and he suspected Sever would seek him out again to return it anyway. If not, he could make it a point to find her instead.
The dirty Maiden blinked slowly and gazed down at herself as if only just noticing her own appearance.
"...Oh."
"Indeed." Lucrezia said softly, as she gently nudged Sever away - towards the entrance. "Now off you go."
Sever glanced back at Derwin for a moment, then nodded and drifted away. The crowd giving her a rather wide berth as she did so.
Lucrezia grimaced, before taking a small sip of her wine.
"Sorry about that. She doesn't mean any harm."
"It's nothing," he replied, gaze still locked on the creature in her arms as she retreated.
"I wonder," he mused somberly, "if the souls of the flesh we reanimate with our magics can still feel the pain and suffering we inflict on their bodies...? Or are they well and truly beyond such mortal concerns?" He could only hope for the sakes of his departed subordinates that it was the latter.
The Elf regarded him with a interested expression for a moment, those piercing yellow eyes of hers watching him - before she chuckled and gestured to one of the maids carrying a rather heavy looking tray of wine. She was with them in a moment - and Lucrezia deftly lifted one of the glasses off the tray and held it out towards the Captain.
"You need a drink Derwin."
"Ha," he chuckled. "I appreciate the kind offer, but I'm still on duty," he said, politely declining the offered glass. It wouldn't do to start drinking on the job after he'd already given Arkoth a harsh lecture about doing just that. The Sorceress simply smiled and took it for herself, probably not expecting him to have taken it in the first place.
"In any event," he said, "forgive my rambling. It's been a long day and my tongue outpaces my brain."
He tried to change the subject to something less...grim.
"Tell me, how is the night treating you? Is the banquet to your satisfaction?"
Lucrezia was seemingly uninterested in Derwin's attempts at conversation and didn't reply. Her attention now on a specific pair in the crowd - Lady Noire and some stranger Derwin hadn't seen before. They seemed to be making awkward small talk. The Sorceress looked rather pleased at the sight.
"Huh," Derwin remarked. "Who is she? Never seen her before. A diplomat's relative...? I suppose it's good Lady Noire has someone her own age to talk to."
"Appearances never mean much here" Lucrezia replied, finishing her glass and handing it over to the maid.
Derwin looked again and noticed the girl's pointed ears.
"An elf...?" They did tend to be much older than they appeared.
Derwin wasn't entirely surprised that, instead of answering him, Lucrezia had already walked away. The First Maiden was higher functioning than Lady Sever, he supposed, but most of these Dark Maidens had horrible social skills. One of the very many costs of sacrificing one's soul for power, it seemed.
The Bloodguard captain returned his attention to the crowd and resumed his slouch from earlier, leaning against the wall to again give his tired feet a rest. He tried to return to the relaxed, contemplative mindset he'd been in before Lady Sever approached him, but it seemed impossible now. For no matter how he tried, he could not shake the image of that twisted little monster mewling and writhing in Sever's hands, its mismatched eyes pleading, reaching into the deepest depths of Derwin's soul, its deformed limbs extending out to him as if begging for salvation.
Uneasily, Derwin shuddered.
Written with:
Avari
(Sever, Lucrezia)Interacted (sort of):
Athanas
(Arkoth)Mentioned:
IG42
(Shizuka)
Dalamus Ulom
(Elazer)
UltrAiron
(Noire)
WillfulWren
(Clarrise)
Last edited:
