Fantasy Heirs [IC]

[Merciless]

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Heirs
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Welcome to
◯ ?????
This thread is only for Earth but if at least two people request a thread to roleplay in another realm, we'll create that thread as soon as we can.
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Players are expected to have read the lore and background information. It's a lot of reading but not reading it will not be tolerated as an excuse for ignorance of the setting of this role-play.

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⎔ ℝ????
By joining the roleplay, players agree to follow the (site) rules.

• meet the standards of writing quality [length | typos | etc.]

• no godmodding or powerplaying

• make replies plausible

• start every reply with the name of the character and the (specific) location

• take care of the setting

☍ ℂ??????
Following the failed ascension of three separate heirs, a coalition within the High Court split Earth’s council and divided the realm. The original royal family and the designated High Court member kept control of Silvatica while Thaddeus and his allies retreated to their respective cities. Silvatica has only publicly made known the failure of the first heir to ascend and the people of Earth are growing restless to find a solution to the throne’s vacancy.

In Helarium, Thaddeus and his Obsequious sect have begun a strict policy of forced conversion or execution. Many of the mages there have come under his control as a result. Helarium once enjoyed the benefits of religious tolerance, but now the academy spreads Obsequious’ teachings. It is not uncommon to see groups of mages dragging people out of their homes and torturing them until they confess to worshipping a false idol. Bounties have also been issued for either the capture or death for the royal family. The highest reward is given to those who can capture an heir.

The upper-class of Horizonia has attempted a similar method of converting people to Imagism. However, the majority lower-class is much more familiar with navigating the slums than the upper-class is. If anything, the extremist Imago sects have only sparked a reactionary, more extreme revival of Firmitas in the outer-city. Perhaps more than anyone else, the lower-class of Horizonia wants to see a change to the traditional monarchy and caste system of the human realm. Horizonia’s lower-class has reached out to the winged folk and angels with gifts, prayers and pleads to help with the establishment of a new order. Nevertheless, the scholars, mages, and knights of the inner-city have teamed up with the mages of Helarium to combat the royal army, if in a somewhat competitive spirit.

In the Imperial City, a bounty has been put out for the safe capture of any heirs that have escaped. Like with Helarium, the promising reward for finding anyone with black blood has lead to violent action against some innocents, sometimes even death. To suppress the insurgence of Helarium and Horizonia, Silvatica has created mandatory military service for the prisoners held in Kaiserna. There is no draft in Silvatica yet, but with the present fervent recruitment for knights, the residents of the Earth’s Imperial City believe it is only a matter of time. Many of the residents of Silvatica are divided about the revolution taking place and are not sure of what side to take, but the overarching mood within the city is unrest and a need for change. Some winged folk have started occupying the city and attempting to guide its residents on where to go from here. Very recently, the teachings and practice of Obsequious has been banned in the Imperial City. First offense is a heavy fine. Any subsequent offenders, or if the perpetrators fail to pay off the first offense, are imprisoned.

 

[Merciless]

?????????
↪ Throne room

ᴇʟɪᴢᴀʙᴇᴛʜ

The heavy doors locked behind her as she stepped into the room. The muttering previously present quickly died down as the occupants of the throne room settled their attention on her. The throne room looked like everything she had excepted but the grandness of it still got to her as she looked around in awe. It was magnificent. She couldn’t believe that out of all the people from her village she was lucky enough to step inside the royal castle let alone the throne room.

“Come, lady Estrauss.” Said the head priest impatiently, successfully breaking her out of her stream of thoughts.

She would be the new queen. Who would have ever thought that possible. She, a simple hunter’s daughter, would be the High Queen. Hurriedly she followed behind the old unpleasant man dragging her white robes behind her. Yes, she was indeed lucky. Luckier than most.

Oh how wrong she was.

ʟᴏʀᴅ ɢɪsʟᴀɪɴ

Fear in her eyes as knights had captured her, she had probably thought they would kill her. Unbelief, when he had bestowed the news of her being a Heir. Happiness, as he told her that she would be the next monarch.

The girl was still so young, so innocent. He looked away as the ceremony started, as the teenager approached the alter where the holy book was placed. He couldn’t look as she opened the book with her small hands. He still had a shred of hope that this time would work. This time it would be different. Still the guilt made him unable to look.

Instead he focused his attention on the two angels sitting next to him. Porcelain faces with no shred of emotions on them, straight postures, and their beautiful white wings. They looked down from the upper floor at the events unfolding. Their faces unreadable and impassive even after everything they had been told. Even after knowing that already 10 heirs had been unable to ascend and had died in horrible ways, the angels didn’t stop them when they suggested to try another time. One last time but this time they would take a truly innocent soul to be the next monarch. If this didn’t work he would let the angels take over. He didn’t want to in the beginning but they said that they could help and he would have no other choice but to believe them. After all they used to have a monarch too, maybe it was time to think about a new form of balance.

A disturbance on the lower floor caught his attention then. His eyes widened as he lunged to the front. A screech broke through the silence of the throne room. The priests scattered around in panic and the mages started chanting spells to slow the process down but the evil had already been done. Elizabeth was screaming, her body floating in the air as black blood flowed from her eyes, mouth, ears and nose. She was beating and scratching her head, pulling out hair in the process. Her white ceremonial dress was quickly turning black because of the blood. She twisted and turned as if possessed. Then just as it started it passed and eerie silence returned to the throne room. Everyone stood as if frozen in time as a sickening crunch vibrated through the air. He gagged as he realised what has happened but when the head exploded and the body fell to the ground in the puddle of black with a wet thud he couldn’t stop himself from actually having to empty his stomach.

ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ

When they had unanimously decided in the Court of Angels that they would help the humans with their predicament, Michael had never thought she would be agreeing to this ... exhibit of gore. Being an archangel for as long as she had been meant that she had seen her fair share of disturbing and unexplainable things but this ... it was grotesque. Somehow she regretted agreeing to visit the humans but the opportunity to spread the influence of Paradiso was still more appealing to her. Humans could be bullheaded but in moments of weakness they were easy to manipulate. Sending two archangels was the right choice. After all, the court was never wrong.

The corners of her mouth lifted in distaste. This was definitely no sight for the weak. With one last disapproving look at the priests on the lower level she turned to Seraphiel.

“As soon as the Lord has gathered himself we will talk about the course of action, what we witnessed just now is horrible and unacceptable ” She said to the other archangel as she stood up from the chair and stretched her pure white wings. “We can’t let any more innocent citizen die.” She said louder this time, drawing the attention to herself.

“As discussed, this was the last time, let us help now.” She continued, putting on a show as she walked over to the Lord and crouched down in front of him, offering him a handkerchief that she pulled from her breast-pocket.

“You’re not alone in this, my Lord.” She helped the Lord stand but was rudely interrupted by the door to the throne room bursting open and people spilling inside. They quickly cornered all the occupants in the room and a scuffle broke out on the lower floor as mages started fighting each other.

ᴄᴀɪᴜs

“Oh, that’s unfortunate," Caius, said as he, a few knights and mages broke into the throne room, “seems like I missed the party.”

He looked up to the balcony and saw the two archangels and Lord Gislain starring at the scuffle with surprise. Yeah, bitches sure hadn’t expected that. He couldn’t wait to put his hands on the Lord. That bastard had to pay. But for now ... He jabbed an unfortunate priest in the throat before he could start running away.

“Yeah, sorry bout that, we can’t have you calling for back up before lord Rossito joins us."

 

[Pine]

Thaddeus Rossito
Silvatica, Throne Room​

The turbulence in the throne room filled the corridor. There were shrill, panicked screams and the sound of magic clashing against magic. The corridor itself was void of life before Thaddeus and his company turned down it. A large group comprised of mages and knights flanked his sides and guided him safely to the throne room, followed by a rank of civilians curious to see what happens. Of course, there was little for his personal army to deal with after his loyalists in the Imperial City had started the insurgence. As he passed into the throne room, he saw where the bodies of the knights that had meant to be standing guard for the room now slumped against the wall, a crescent shape seeping red from where their throats had been carven.

The mages poured in first. A few spells cast and the mages of the Royal Army subsided, seeing that they were overwhelmingly outnumbered now. The knights fell in behind Thaddeus, covering his slow stroll. A few of the loyalists from the city turned to him, and he greeted a few, patting them on the shoulder. His arm lifted the heavy rags of his cowl to reach and pat Caius on the neck when he saw the Inquisitor. “Thank you, young Caius,” he said to him. Thaddeus gave another pat with his thick, wrinkled fingers, then walked forward towards the front of the room.

The archangel on the lower floor had evidently recovered from her initial shock. Her wings flexed and beat in a display of irritation. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

Thaddeus stopped to evaluate her. “Ah. Michael, is it? I see that you’re here,” he said. Thaddeus looked up around him. “And Seraphiel, too, I believe.” He hummed to himself. “Please, do take a seat, both of you. I have business with the Lord Gislain you have there.”

Micheal’s lips pulled from her teeth, grimacing in hesitation.

Thaddeus did not waver. “Please, Michael. I would hate to inconvenience your council and make them find a replacement for you.”

A knight standing at his side rested a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Michael’s wings folded back. Lord Gislain looked panicked as her hand left his and the archangel retreated to where she had been seated before.

Thaddeus had secured control of the room. All scuffles had ceased and every man, woman and child had their eyes on him now.

“Thaddeus!” Lord Gislain said in disbelief. “You were banished from Silvatica. How did you get in here?”

Thaddeus looked to a knight at his side. “Be a dear and have Lord Gislain brought to the front, will you?” he asked.

“Come on, then!” the woman said gruffly. She lunged forward towards Gislain and yanked him close to her. He tried to pull away but the woman fastened a vicegrip on his cheeks, squeezing until his jaw opened and she pulled a cloth from out of her armor to stuff in his mouth, gagging him. She jerked him and Gislain stumbled to follow her to the front of the room.

Thaddeus walked behind, but stopped again by the body of the young heir, distancing himself just to avoid staining his robe with the black still spreading over the marble floor. It was the smell of tar. “You can rest easy now, Lady Estrauss,” he soothed.

Now standing by the throne, the knight at front kicked the back of Gislain’s legs, bringing the man to his knees.

When Thaddeus reached the front, he looked down at Gislain, appraising the man. “Your eyes are full of fear, Lord Gislain,” he said. “Please don’t stress yourself. This life is only material.”

Gislain jerked then, but the knight beat her fist on the back of his head and re-secured her grip on his shoulder. A small pool of blood began to mat his hair.

“Easy, Irena,” Thaddeus addressed the knight. He watched Gislain’s head bow, then turned to face the rest of the room.

“Residents of Silvatica,” he began. “What you see here today is no isolated incident. Lady Estrauss is not the second to have attempted ascending the throne. There have been ten heirs before her that we have lost in an equally or more gruesome manner. I know it is a gorey sight to see, but please take a look at Lady Estrauss’ body, if for no reason than to respect a child that has lost her life early.”

Thaddeus folded his arms in front of him, looking once more at the child’s body, his lids hooding his eyes. He breathed in deeply and sighed through his nose. “Ten sacrifices before her because men like Lord Gislain were too stubborn to listen to the signs the Maker has been giving us all. ‘Like an old dog, the people did not listen to the messages the Maker gave them. They remained in their huts and continued their fight for bread, and like their quarrels, the famine persisted.’ Talio, verse 8:24. The Nitor tells us we do not solve our problems by fighting and doing the same thing.”

He looked back up at the people in the room then. “Good people of Silvatica, you have trusted me before to guide your spirits to a better society. Allow me to do that again.” Thaddeus looked behind him to Silvatica’s Court Leader. “Lord Gislain has kept you in the dark about what has been happening in this throne room. As a result, eleven heirs have needlessly thrown away their lives. He has needlessly prolonged the question of Earth’s leadership when the people already know the answer. We cannot remain as we have been. It is madness to repeat ourselves when the end is drawing near. Laziness is not a luxury we have anymore.”

Thaddeus looked over the crowd, which had been stirring uneasily since entering the room. “Lord Gislain has also attempted to impose a ban on our faith. A ridiculous fine that no one can be expected to pay, and a sentence to Kaiserna for not being able to meet the Court’s demands. This is Lord Gislain’s punishment for pious hearts that swell with love for the Maker. ‘And the great Guardian of humans told Enu, ‘It is balance that the Maker has given you. For every act oppressing the staunch champions of the Maker, twice will be the punishment that finds them.’’ Illustratio, verse 17:20.”

Thaddeus turned from the crowd to kneel before Gislain. He ran his hand over his forehead, brushing aside the dark locks of hair that hung over the Lord’s face. “Make your peace with the Maker, Lord Gislain,” he spoke softly to the man before him.

Gislain’s head snapped up to look at Thaddeus. Muffled noises came from behind the gag and tears rolled down his cheeks in thick waves.

Thaddeus looked at him then like a disappointed father, a sad expression worn on his face. He held Gislain’s face and put his lips to the man’s forehead, then stood. Thaddeus stepped back and gave a solemn nod to another knight standing by him.

The noise Gislain grew with his terror. Irena shoved him by the shoulder, Gislain’s shuddering body collapsing to the ground. She grabbed him by his hair to pull him back up until he was only being supported by his arms. Another knight stormed forward, taking a great battleaxe from off his back. Irena removed her hand quickly and the knight swung the battleaxe down onto his neck. There were screams heard in the crowd. The impact crunched loudly, but the position wasn’t right, so the knight had to pull the axe unstuck from Gislain’s neck and swing again, where his head finally disconnected and rolled down the steps of the throne room. Irena kicked the body onto its side, the spurting neck slowing to a red ooze.

“It is time we take responsibility for Silvatica,” Thaddeus continued, “and with it, all of humanity. I will lead our people the best way I know how to salvation. We must repent to our Maker, who loves us all so much it pains our Maker.” He looked up to where the archangels sat again on the upper level. “Michael, Seraphiel, this is our own trial we must face. The Maker appreciates the Council of Angels’ concerns, but I’m afraid winged folk have no place offering penitence for our sins. Please have your people out of the city before nightfall, otherwise we will be forced to take action.”

He licked his lips and gave one final address to the rest of the room. “There will be no more penalty for Imagists devoting themselves to the great purpose of our Maker. Rest easy, for I will be bringing back our brothers and sons that have been unjustly sentenced for a love which is no crime. Tell your husbands there is nothing left to fear. We will continue to do what is necessary to please the Maker and bring back our Messiah who has such unfathomable love for us all. Maker guide you to peace and clarity.”

Thaddeus turned away from the crowd one final time, and this time there was a change in energy in the room, as though relieved that there was no more to witness.

“Let the priests go,” Thaddeus told one of the knights. “Find anyone still loyal to the Royal Army and put them in a cell until we can later deal with them.”

Thaddeus has secured nearly absolute control of and leadership of Silvatica for now. The ban on Obsequium is lifted and those punished for faith of the sect will be released from prison and allowed to return home, or for those who paid their fines, a minimal reimbursement will be given. The Royal Army and mage allies are being rounded up in Silvatica and taken to the makeshift cells held in the castle until further notice. Loyalists to Thaddeus have taken control of Silvatica's portals and killed the previous guards. Winged folk have until nightfall to leave the city before unspecified consequences will be brought upon them. This move is likely to impact the state of many other cities with time, but for now, there is has not been enough time for these consequences to be felt. The only other city facing a drastic change so far is Helarium, which now has an interim Court member put in place during Thaddeus' absence. This Court member is loyal to Thaddeus and is maintaining the policy of forced conversion to Obsequium in the city. However, there is a large absence of scholars and mages as there were before, since Thaddeus took many of them with him to storm Silvatica, leaving Helarium much more vulnerable to the remaining Royal Army.​

 

[Synder]

「Xander Iril, Oister Bar // Streets, Valmundo
Great Knight -- "The Sleepless Knight."

Every man had their fears. The traveler had learned to accept that fact to heart through his training beneath the boots of those once superior in rankings and talent; no matter race nor ability, every person could be made fearful through the right situations. And if they truly were lacking in any fear, they would find themselves given one. Such was the law of fate and time, for how could a knight ever exist without fear? 'Twas the very blood flowing through their veins in times of conflict, the driving force behind the shaking in each leg new to the battlefield. Without fear, there was no courage.

And Xander, the man who had once stood proud by his King's side, was fearful. From that fear sprouted not blind and dumb courage, but planning.

Such was the reason he had left his home upon first notice of the assassinations which had come shortly after the death of his King. The knight did not need any clearer signal, men were being clicked off clean and with little connecting them save for an honest loyalty to the royal blood. He had left, departing and praying that some of his more trusted knights would know what to do. Praying to who, though... He was not sure. Religion had always been a strange topic to him, one he never cared to look over with more than passing glances...

A cloak made of stitched rags and bundles of cloth covered up his purple-coated frame, the shady attire expected of most who roamed the streets of Valmundo. Rumors and words spread fast throughout the town, a fortunate detail. Whispers could easily be bought from many brokers in the hundreds of alleys if ever it became difficult, and Xander learned quickly that being raised in a shadier district himself could come in wonderfully handy. His cart had just earlier been stashed away and hidden through the use of an amount of runes some would consider an overkill; illusive runes, shielding runes, notification runes, gaseous runes... He loved his magic, and his experience with it showed.

Deceivingly drowsy juniper eyes searched beneath their ragged hood like serpentine orbs as Xander entered an establishment. An inn, a tavern? He wasn't sure about the details, and wouldn't make the mistake of asking. He took a seat near the bar counter, awaiting service and adjusting his rags. He had plans set, he knew what he was looking for... Damned, Caius, what did they do to you... No matter what he had heard over the past afternoon, Xander felt no anger towards the heir's actions, but instead a pained guilt that he had let him slip into the hands of traitors. He had power sure, but any thought that he could have controlled those events would come to an unfortunate conclusion.

"Whatever's in the bottles, darling," came his soothing voice at the mumbled request of a tavern maiden. As he awaited service, a gloved hand felt into his interior pockets, finding a small sketch and unfolding it to admire beneath his palm. A sketch of what family he had left in this world; his other Great Knights. At least, he always liked to think of the four as family, no matter the... Lacking amount of time spent, much to his dismay and attempts at creating results otherwise. Upon the arrival of his drink, Xander leaned over the counter with a slow shift, his paper tucked away in exchange for some worthy amount of payment and tips. "Ask around if anyone knows the whereabouts of the other heirs," he'd whisper. "Should they tell, expect more for your troubles."

Once he had finished business with the lass and poured his drink into a flask for later uses, Xander exited and began to roam the streets, searching below his hood for familiar faces as he passed through streets and alleys. He still had a family to serve, he still had a goal. And, unfortunate and unbeknownst to that poor tavern lass, he'd given himself the honor of planting a listening rune below the tavern counter. No one lived long in Valmundo without keeping their guards up after all.

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
12:03 PM
​

Archer stood merely a kilometer away from Valmundo, glaring into the horizon at the city's outline. The sun beat down on him from above, and the scarce clouds did next to nothing as to provide shade. This late-spring day was rather warm, with a light breeze leaving ripples in the tall grass. All-in-all, it was an average day, nothing special to anyone outside of Silvatica. It was purely another day to go through life just as one did yesterday, and the day before that. An endless cycle, but a pleasant one when there was someone to share it with.

Archer began his walk to the city in the distance. As it grew closer, Archer tugged his hood further over his face and hunched his shoulders. Back in Silvatica, this behavior would be treated as suspicious, but here in Valmundo it was nothing different from usual. Archer passed between crowds with no trouble, his cheapest cloak's cloth waving about as he side-stepped the seedy people living here.

Archer couldn't remember Valmundo being quite so... distasteful. It used to be a rather large, populous city--at least, that was what his tutors told him as a child. Then Silvatica was constructed, and Valmundo lost all appeal to society. It was left to become a spot for brigandines, Archer decided. Here there were all species, each as unlawful or dirty as the last. There were thieves bartering goods and prostitutes offering themselves on every corner, and Archer supposed that in its own way, Valmundo still was a port. Although a very different one from what it used to be. What a shame that it's been reduced to this... Archer thought.

Someone grabbed his arm, taking hold of his cloak as well. Archer refused to look at whoever it was. If anyone saw his face... No, he couldn't even let himself imagine it. If they knew who he was, Archer would rather have taken his place as the King. Being robbed and sold off repeatedly to end up back at the palace wasn't very appealing to him.

"That's a nice cloak you got there, stranger," the person said, and Archer recognized the voice as a middle-aged man's. He glanced around at the other travelers, and every one of them wore a patchwork cloak. Damn... I should've thought they would be poorer than I could even fathom! Archer did wear his most plain cloak, but it was still all one fabric, unlike the ones that everyone else wore.

"I found it on some traders awhile back," Archer replied, pitching his voice low in an attempt to seem more threatening. Maker knows how threatening he would be in a fight. "They might still have something yet to be pillaged." The man laughed, a rasping sound that was heavy with phlegm.

"You got a right proper way o' speaking, sir. I find myself doubtful you didn't just purchase that there piece o' clothing." Archer tried to put some steel in his voice, and he was glad to hear it in his words. Oh, if only the man could see the panic in his head.

"Unhand me," Archer hissed, jerking his arm from the man's grip. He stood there a moment longer, waiting for a beat to see if the man would dare challenge him. When he heard footsteps heading away, Archer let out a slow breath. You took a terrible risk coming here! he scolded himself. Especially without checking what these people wear. Archer shook his head, clearing his thoughts and straightening his spine. Despite the risks, he'd had to come. Archer knew he was soft from his royal upbringing, and he needed protection--for reasons he was just reminded of. Valmundo was known as a place to find hardy mercenaries, but only if one had the pay. The hired men and women were sure to last a while, but they would only do it for a rather hefty price. Archer had the coin to hire, but what he really needed was to find one trusty enough that they wouldn't sell him out once they saw his face... Or sell him themselves.

 

[Merciless]

⎔ ℝ????
an: I’m going to abandon the idea of time after all.
To me it seems like it only makes it more confusing.

If time is relevant for your post put it in the post or on top of it, otherwise leave it out.

Unless stated otherwise in a post the standard time will be daytime.

You can specify the location if needed.

examples:
Valmundo, Oister Bar
Silvatica, Throne Room

​

 

[animegirl20]

Dove watched as Archer headed over to Valmundo. Once he was out of sight Dove looked around the area and sat down in the grass. She then removed her hood and sighed as she looked back in the direction her brother headed. She wanted to go with him but she would probably just be in the way. She would be easy to recognize just be looking at her hair. Plus even if they did come across trouble what could she do? She didn’t know any magic or anything. But she wished she did now. She was also a bit nervous of being alone. But she would wait it out. She hugged her knees and felt the light breeze of a warm spring day. “Well at least it’s a nice day.
PseudoLives (mentioned)

 

[Merciless]

?????????
↪ Imperial Castle

ᴄᴀɪᴜs

The gaze of the man flickered uncertainly from side to side. He had a lot of information to spill but for some reason he remained stubborn and thus quiet so far throughout the ... persuasion.

'And for what?’, Caius thought as he twirled a slim dagger in his hands in practiced motions. He eyed the severely bleeding and beaten man in from of him with a predatory gaze, scanning for any openings and weaknesses. When the man’s gaze shot to the side again, anything to escape the intense gaze of the Inquisitor sitting across from him, Caius jabbed the knife under the man’s collarbone. The man let out a howl of surprise and pain as he sharply brought his attention back to the Inquisitor torturing him and then looked at the dagger sticking from his chest the best he could for someone tied up to a chair.

“Inquisitor Kilner! What do you think you’re doing?” Exclaimed an older knight who was standing next to the door in the room, witnessing everything in it. “You’re going to kill him if you continue this!” The knight sneered.

Caius just lifted his bloodied gloved hand in the air as to silence the old cretin and to wave him off in mocking. He didn’t know shit about his methodes of persuasion, this was his domain.

“Listen, Sir Horan, I can make you bleed to death in approximately ...” He acted as if he had to think about how long exactly it would take the burly man to bleed out on the floor of the cellar even though the imagine in his head had already been clear hours ago. “ ... 30 minutes! That’s a pretty generous time I’m bestowing upon you to say goodbye to your daughters.” Caius said happily as if he was talking about the weather with an old friend.

“Don’t you dare mention my daughters, you monster!” The man screamed at him and tried to lunge forward after which he wheezed in pain, opening wounds because of the outburst. The method of the Inquisitor wasn’t brutal like most. No, it was slow and calculated. To every person he had a different approach. That’s what made it the worst.

“That’s cute, old man. Another outburst like that and you’ll kill yourself.” Caius said as he eased himself back in his chair. “You brought this upon yourself, if you just told us what we wanted to know we would have let you go.” Sadly, everyone in the room knew that that was a lie.

“Now tell me what I want to know...” He paused as he stared the man straight in the eyes and smirked. “... or don’t. I can keep you alive for a very, very long time."

He was pleased to see the fear that crept into the man’s eyes.

•••

He knocked on the door and as soon as he was allowed permission through a simple ‘Yes, yes, come in’ he reached for the doorknob.

Closing the door behind him Caius moved to stand in the middle of the study, crossing his arms behind his back and keeping his posture straight but relaxed.

“Lord Rossito.” He addressed the man sitting behind the desk, slightly bowing his head in a display of respect. He rarely had respect for anyone these days but this man was special to him. He actually viewed him as the father-figure that he never had, however stupid that might sound. His real father was but a ghost in his memories now but whatever resurfaced of the man was usually unpleasant.

“He spilled everything.” Caius said matter of factly with the usual little smirk on his face. “Sadly ...” He didn’t feel sad at all. “Sir Horus has sustained too many injuries during the process.” He craned his neck to the side as if pondering on something.

“He died while saying his goodbyes to his daughters.” Which wasn’t really a lie ... but it wasn’t the full truth either. He didn’t actually get to say goodbye as he was an incoherent and mewling mess by then.

Not that it really mattered.

​

 

[Synder]

「Xander Iril, Alleys // Streets, Valmundo
Great Knight -- "The Sleepless Knight."

It didn't take too long for words to find the knight's ears, stringing in warning as if the vibrations of a harp. His runes always could use a bit of fine tweaking however, far from something meriting any specifics beyond vague details and blurry words. However, Xander knew what he was looking for. Shortly after the tavern rune had found his ears on the topic of a clean and finer cloak, he knew there were only so many options to the person beneath; either a complete moron looking to show off their new purchases and most likely meet their end in a filthy alleyway, or another escapee fleeing from that ever-looming threat of Thaddeus among those still loyal to the throne.

Hope was a fickle, thin line to Xander. On one end, too much hope would see the heads of many cleaved from their spines whilst awaiting a savior. On the other, too little hope could see people deciding to take control and decide for themselves how they would go out, rather than wait for a perceived inevitability. Xander tread cautiously, in thanks to a mixture of occasional drinking and simple stubbornness to comply. As tired as he often appeared to be, often was that irritated fire stoked in his thoughts.

Caution paired well with hope, comparable to cheese and red wine. And so he began on following those few hints of a blurred rune, the marking burning out silently beneath a tavern counter some minutes away once it had served its purpose. The rag-coated traveler turned, slipping away from a quiet main street to instead begin strolling towards the deeper ghettos of the City of Thieves. One heir was lost, but this could be his chance to make sure others didn't fall to that same political poison. His glove trailed along a side, seeking out a small bag of metal pins and slightly loosening its opening.

The man couldn't help but wonder if he might even find another of his knights, if anything at all was found... However, he knew better than that. Almost relieving that he did, knowing that he had both trained and stood beside both common and great knights who knew how to better handle themselves in dire situations. At least, those of his who had chosen to remain loyal to the throne. A sickening thought, indeed, that some of his knights could have been responsible for the very death of his own mentors.

Thoughts for another day. For now, he would focus on the future.

// "What you create isn't living, child. What you create is the shell of a disgusting seed. Learn to steady yourself."​

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
​

Archer had left Dove in the fields beyond Valmundo, knowing they would stick out more if together. Two travelers with new clothing that had yet to become ragged and thin? Even though he wasn't cautious enough to find out what they wore, Archer thought ahead to consider this.

He continued down the broken-down cobblestone, sure to listen for any footsteps approaching. Archer had always had sharper hearing than normal as a result of his royal blood. Some of his family had enhanced strength or speed, but Archer had enhanced hearing. He could focus on one sound around him and identify minimal information from it, such as how heavy the person walked or if they stumbled. He could also hear things higher or lower-pitched than normal, along with hear things going on further away. Sometimes his head could get a little chaotic with all of the sounds, but over the years he had learned a way to suppress what he didn't want to hear.

No one seemed to be following him. If there was anyone, they'd be lagging a moderate distance behind and matching his slow pace. In this part of Valmundo, it seemed that everyone was in a rush to get somewhere.

Archer kept watch for any signs swinging above doorways that read "tavern" or "inn." Innkeeps always knew the going-ons, and if there weren't any mercenaries in the tavern itself, the keep could probably point out another.

Archer walked into the first inn he came across, and little did he know that it was the same one a certain Great knight had come too only some short time before--and in search for him.

It appeared that this one didn't shun the work of the city's prostitutes, instead encouraging it. After all, a thirsty man looking for a good night would pay for the closest bed--and where closer than the ones in the tavern he's already in?

The keep was a woman who looked bone-tired as she scrubbed down the counter before her. Archer slowly approached her, taking in the jovial thugs drunkenly dancing to the tune a few bards played. When he stopped in front of her, the woman looked up at him, tossing aside the rag she held and leaning her elbows on the counter. "Can I help ye?" she asked, voice more pleasant than her appearance.

"Might you possibly point me to soldiers for hire?" he asked her, and her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to figure out his need for a mercenary. After a moment, she exhaled softly.

"None here now, but one or two usually stay the night," she told him, and Archer nodded.

"In that case, might I have some drink? I'll be here awhile." Archer took a sip of what she gave to him and he had to stifle a cough. It was bitter and strong--the very opposite of his taste--but Archer paid the woman and took a seat at one of the wooden benches against the wall. He forced himself to drink the rest as he waited for anyone even resembling a warrior to walk in. Archer watched as the thugs before him laughed heartily in their conversation and suddenly missed Dove.

I would have liked to have company, he thought, but resigned himself to allowing time to waste away. The time when he could leave this eyesore of a city couldn't come fast enough...

animegirl20 (mention)

 

[Uxie]

serena [seraphiel]​

wings

location; imperial castle -> silvatica
mentions; Merciless Pine

it's all just fun and games

Rina had hoped, just a little bit, that it would work. Not that she didn't want to establish their control here, but the poor darling was so small, and so young. The horrific display seemed to take a toll on the Lord, and as he retched, she wondered how he hadn't gotten used to it yet, since there had already been 10 Heirs before her.

She could sense Tavira's displeasure beside her. She seemed more affected than she was, and after the whole spectacle was over, she'd turned to her and informed her of their course of action. "We can't let another innocent citizen die." Tavira said louder. "Yes, because we care so much." Rina murmured under her breath inaudibly, but stood nonetheless beside her fellow archangel. She watched silently as Tavira made her way over to the Lord, and Rina couldn't help but feel slightly amused as she watched impassively. She was a damn good actress, wasn't she? Rina remained at her spot, her hands clasped in front of her as she put on an expression of mock concern, but her head snapped towards the door as it flew open, and her face betrayed just a flicker of interest as she watched the fight unfold. The Royal Guard and whatever terrible priests they'd gathered seemed both horribly outnumbered and terribly incompetent. A let-down.

Rina wondered if she should step in. It would be fun, but the Council would disapprove of her actions. Lord Gislain and Tavira both seemed shocked, the male significantly more- Tavira just looked pissed. Granted, she looked pissed, like, 70% of the time, so Rina couldn't really tell the difference. As she peered down at the scuffle, she made eye contact with a man that had glanced upwards, before returning his attention to the fight. She could swear she could sense something different about him, but her gaze shifted as the fight slowly died down, the victorious side crystal clear. As if on cue, some old guy had strode in, and the various warriors had fell in step behind him.

He greeted Michael, and then added on a respectful greeting to her as well. Ah, she'd nearly been concerned that he'd forgotten about her. As he requested they kindly be seated, Rina had to shove down the urge to snap back. Who the hell did he think he was, telling archangels what to do? Regardless, she glanced at Tavira, who seemed unwilling to back down, her wings out and all, but as Grandpa threw out a second threat, Tavira hesitated, and the two nephilim's eyes met for the briefest moment, and Rina shook her head in a barely noticeable motion. The Council had not sent them here to fight. Tavira folded her wings back and joined her, and the two sat. Rina was ready for a good show.

Lord Gislain seemed terrified of Grandpa- no, Thaddeus, that's what Gislain was calling him. She almost felt sorry for Gislain, except she didn't, at all. Even when he was dragged down, Thaddeus spouted more information about the previous Heirs that Rina wondered how he'd gotten, considering the fact that they had been informed the previous ascensions had been kept a secret. Clearly, not well-kept. Rina watched, with an unreadable expression on her face as more things were said, Thaddeus whispered something to Gislain before Gislain was promptly beheaded, though the one with the axe didn't seem very adept at that sort of thing.

Thaddeus said some more, before he finally addressed the two archangels. "Michael, Seraphiel, this is our own trial we must face. The Maker appreciates the Council of Angels’ concerns, but I’m afraid winged folk have no place offering penitence for our sins. Please have your people out of the city before nightfall, otherwise we will be forced to take action." He really didn't know his place as an inferior species, did he? How irritating. She and Tavira stood together, making their way down as elegantly as angels were supposed to be, Rina really resisting just punching the ugly old man in the face as they passed. That would put him in his place, but the consequences of incurring the wrath of his silly cult would be pretty bad. Plus, Tavira would kill her, if they weren't already dead after the whole thing.

As she left the hall, she turned and called back, "You're a dick, by the way!" Tavira grabbed her wrist right then and yanked her along, power-walking them out of the castle. "Fuck you!" Rina cried once more, then sped up a little to match Tavira's pace as they practically fled the scene. Tavira seemed displeased at her actions, but said nothing, and Rina had a feeling she'd felt the same way.

Once safely out of the castle, they slowed down marginally and walked in silence. It was a while before Tavira finally spoke. "We need to head to the embassy."
"To evacuate them? They're only humans, if we called for war you know they would lose."
"No, we don't know, Serena." Tavira shot her a sideways glance. Was she actually doubting the superiority of angels over these weaklings? "We don't know what Thaddeus is capable of."
Rina hated to admit it, but she was right. If Thaddeus had some trick up his sleeve, he just might pull through, and then angels could never show their faces ever again after having lost to the likes of humans. "So what now, just run off with our tails between our legs? They're humans, for Maker's sake. There must be something we can do against Grandpa."
Tavira went thoughtfully silent. Rina knew that she, as well, wasn't willing to just let this happen. Who knew what that creepy cult would do if they were to just let them run rampant? It might even disturb the order in Paradiso, though that might be a lovely change, Rina wasn't very interested in the idea of having to spend so much time dealing with a stupid cult. Tavira seemed to be veering off course slightly while figuring out a plan, and Rina had to subtly steer her back towards the embassy.

"We find out more about him, then. Gather all the nephilim present in this city, ask them, ask around. The moment we get enough information-"
"We get rid of him." Rina clapped her hands together.
"Absolutely."
"Off the fucking bastard."
"Language, Seraphiel."
​

​

​

​

​

​

 

[Pine]

Thaddeus Rossito
Silvatica, Imperial Castle​

Sunlight filtered into the study from where he had drawn the curtains behind him. The sun reflected off of the glossy finish of the world map he had rolled out on his desk. Just hours before, Thaddeus may have become to most influential man in all of Silvatica. His hands ran over the bumps of black wax on dried onto the parchment, carving all of Earth’s territorial borders. It was now sitting in this study that he realized how impulsive this move had been.

Thaddeus hunched forward on the desk, resting his head on his fist. It was very unlike him to make such a hasty decision. He had been playing the long game. He had strengthened his territories out of the Imperial City. Then the last Lord here threatened to snuff out those still serving the Maker, and in their place, install those damn angels. He hadn’t expected to see them there, the Lord already in their pocket. He had showed his hand, so he lost his position as the supposed underdog, but had he waited any longer, even more people would have turned to that realm for change.

He kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. Had he done the right thing, letting them go like that? Was mercy worth it? Should he have set an example with them? He had given them until nightfall, but a lot of damage could be done before then. Knowing the angels, they would just let their folk perish and use that time to get back at him instead.

Thaddeus fell back into cushion of his seat. He looked at Silvatica, then Helarlium, to Horizonia, and ended with Kaiserna.

He heard a knock at the door.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before folding his hands in his lap. “Yes, yes, come in.”

It was that young boy from the Inquisition again, back from an interrogation. He had cleaned himself up, evidently, before his visit to the High Clergyman.

He had sent Caius to find a certain Sir Horan, who had been causing quite a stir with his talk of Firmitas and looking towards the Council of Angels for guidance just before the events of today. He had reason to suspect that Sir Horan was working with someone to spread their false religion and ensure housing for the winged folk. As he listened attentively to Caius’ report, it seemed as though this had indeed been the case.

“Please, young Caius,” Thaddeus said to the Inquisitor, “there is no need for such titles and formalities with me, I have already told you. Have a seat.”

Thaddeus rose from his own seat, walking around to half-sit half-lean on the desk.

“You’ve done excellent work, my boy,” he continued. “The Maker will be pleased. I do hope Sir Horan was able to make his peace before his untimely end.” Thaddeus, of course, knew that Caius was a bit unrestrained at times. Any unfortunate mishaps that befell those he interrogated were, in all likelihood, less accidental than on purpose, but Thaddeus had decided it was best to spare him that shame of him knowing a while ago.

Thaddeus plucked at the hairs of his whispy, whiting beard. “I expect that you will have a formal report ready for me before tonight, but for now…” He replaced his hands in his lap and studied Caius’ face carefully. “How have you been, my boy? How are you liking the city now? It’s been a while since you’ve visited from Kaiserna, hasn’t it?”

 

[Merciless]

?????????
↪ Imperial Castle

ᴄᴀɪᴜs

Caius had the decency not to role his eyes at Thaddeus. Why did the man always try to humble himself? With his mind he deserved the highest of titles and respect in Caius’ - and a lot of others' - opinion. He dropped the topic for himself in favour of taking a seat as offered, taking in the praise thrown at him.

He sure loved getting praised. Sometimes he felt bad for himself how much someone genuinely praising him got to him. The first time it happened he thought it was mocking. Who would ever praise someone for torturing people? It was a necessary evil that had to be done, yes, but praise? That usually never came genuinely. That was until Thaddeus saw his mock and spoke those magical words: ‘it is all for a better world and you’re helping shape it’. That really got to him.

Maybe that was when he started seeing the man as more than some ... cult leader. He made him see that everything and everyone had a purpose, even such a ‘monster' as Caius. He didn’t really think of himself as a monster but if people called him that, who was he to deny such a claim? Not that a lot of people knew or cared for the whole back story of all the people Caius interrogated, especially the dark hidden parts. In his own mind he was - sometimes - a hero, that’s what counted. Other times ... well he was but human.

He made himself comfortable in the chair, throwing his arm over the back of it. His mother would have scolded him for such bad posture but Thaddeus just smiled at him, like always studying. He took a moment to ponder about Thaddeus’ question. The report was a certain ‘of course’, no use slacking on Inquisitor work.

“I’ve been well, I’d say. Everything is better than Kaiserna.” He said with a snort.

He didn’t particularly like Silvatica, it had always been filled with masks and betrayal - as had been proven some days ago. He hated politics and bureaucracy. But he hated Kaiserna even more. It was literally a frozen shithole in the middle of nowhere. Getting inside the city was a pain in the ass but leaving it ... and the people. He sighed at the idea. Their sense of humour had definitely been frozen.

“I’m sure that you’ll make Silvatica into the city it was meant to be, boss.” He settled jokingly.

????????
↪ Docks​

ᴛʜᴇᴀɴɴᴀ

”Hey? HOLY SHIT! What are YOU?!” An annoying screech broke through the relative quiet of the surroundings and made Theanna growl in annoyance without really meaning to as she crawled onto the dry wood of the docks.

She had made an unfortunate landing - basically crashed into a water-source - as she was distracted by an animated picture that she viewed on her magic bracelet while flying to Earth. She had ended up not seeing where she was manoeuvring towards. Damned technologies.

Well at least she was on Earth now.

She hoped it was Earth.

“Shut your horse face-“ She looked at the thing ... the guy? Human? Whatever the ugly creature was standing at (what he probably thought was a) safe distance, “Human.” She settled on that and hissed, beckoning him closer with her hand. “Come here, I need to ask you something.”

“Oh hell no!” The human explained loudly, moving his hands in a funny way that reminded her of an octopus for some reason. “Nu uh! Not happening! Weird looking ladies crawling from the murky water after something definitely crashed into it? I tell you, hun. That shit ain’t normal.” He exclaimed loudly, throwing his hands in the air as if he was having a fight with the sky itself. “You think I’m crazy? I’ve seen enough shit to know how this is going to end, no thank you.” He said as he turned around and started walking away hurriedly. “Siren thinks she can trick J.T.. J.T. ain’t stupid, bitch!"

“Hey! Damn it! Come back here!” She screeched at him but the guy just escalated his hurried pace into a full scale running away. Surprisingly, he was damn fast.

“Just wait you little shit! I’ll find you!” She grumbled as she stood up, checking everything on her person. She hadn’t lost anything at least but now she was drenched. Theanna shifted her appearance and clothing into more human looking ones. Instead of darker skin and long mint coloured hair she settled for lighter skin and short blue hair. Her clothing turned completely black. That should do the trick.

Once settled she looked around. “Where did I end up this time?” The place was dark, old, falling apart in a lot of places and smelled like rotten fish. It also looked and felt really, really shady.

Eventually she decided to head into the direction where the ugly human had run off to.

 

[Synder]

「Xander Iril, Alleys // Oyster Bar, Valmundo \\ Mentioned: PseudoLives
Great Knight -- "The Sleepless Knight."

As taboo was his magics may have been, it would be wrong to say that they weren't useful. In fact, in the time it had taken Xander to relearn that Valmundo alleys were, as surprising as it may have been, littered with rates. Rather than releasing his usual form of lightning to fry the creature, he chose to instead utilize a finer aspect of lightning; its connection to that which was around it. Metals attracted strikes, but electricity could attract metals with the right work put into it... Twas better to utilize the abnormal than be caught by a wary eye all due to his signature lightning cracks. And so, magnetism did as it had always done under his command, a single steel nail rising from the pouch at his side. It flew, drilling into the creature with a sharp squeak soon cut off.

A mumbled prayer to an unknown deity, Xander removed the nail and allowed it to fly back into his pouch. The creature was dead, though it wasn't... necessarily ready, to die yet. He'd pray for each fallen soul, twas only right for a man who hated though accepted the importance of death, though it was what came after in his arts that had often pained him. The spellblade could see it-- not through his eyes, but his mind. The lesser creature's soul rising like a fine golden mist, leaving its hull. But, it wasn't allowed to do that. Not yet.

His curses cast with a short glance over the creature, mist was again absorbed into the hull of a body, chained and not yet allowed to escape. And so the creature twitched, turning and wriggling as it again returned to a 'life' under service. Just like all other critters he had found, the rat was sent off to search and scout the city, one of many who now skittered through the city in search of danger. At least, until they would soon rot. A soul of simple creatures such as rats could only accomplish so much.

Xander continued towards the dirtied door, gloved digits rising and nudging the oak forwards. Upon entering, it did not take much more than a peripheral view of that cloak to understand that this was not a local. A search for others still loyal to place on the chopping block, maybe? There were oh-so many possibilities, and if it was one of the less desirable ones, the Great Knight wasn't sure if he was willing to risk the lives of those within the tavern. Instead, he continued to sway along, taking a seat in the nearest empty booth rather than the counter. He'd rest and wait, merely enjoying the seat beneath loose rags for the time being. Watching and waiting, figuring out whether or not he had come across another traitor.

Spoiler: Bonus Excerpt: 'Memories of Studies'

Abyssal Magics, Sixtieth Week

Master has continued to insist that I develop my arts as a caster, and I cannot say it isn't interesting. Especially when paired with blade practice, whenever it is safe to do so with other training partners at least... But, it still feels strange. Wrong, even, that cold rush with each use of it. 'Magic is a muscle,' he described it, but beyond that, what really do I know of my art? It's not directly corrupt, nor is it all too far... Linked? Powered, maybe, or funneled and cleaned through it. I've been looking deeper into my necromancy, trying to figure out what it is exactly that I'm doing here.

It's denying them their death. I think, I'm still not sure and it's all just theorizing, but... I'm not letting them rest. Delaying it, at least; undead can only survive so long, but still, it feels off. Wrong, even. Master says that it is all in good reason, and I pray that he is correct. For now, I just continue my studies and see what more I can learn of these magics, I've been looking into stationary forms of its magic so that might reveal something new? If magic's a muscle, it can be trained in different ways after all. I think. Gods, metaphors.

Signed,
X.I.

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
​

Archer glanced up from the shadow of his cloak's hood as the man entered the tavern. He donned a sword, and there was a sort of energy about him. Perhaps he could be who I'm looking for? Archer's gaze trailed after the man contemplatively... at least until he sat down and Archer could see his face. He considered the man's features and sense of grandeur, and suddenly it hit him: he recognized this man. He could barely recall his name--maybe something along the lines of Zan? A Great Knight! I can't stay here!

Archer may have been a bit of an idiot when it came to blending in with the impoverished, but he knew a little. For example, he knew it would be idiocy to rush out of the building. He'd already noticed how the Knight was turned slightly to be able to see him in peripheral view, and that meant Archer was already of interest to him. Archer wasn't going to let himself become even more suspicious!

Archer took a few more minutes to finish his drink, heart pounding in his chest every single second. Then Archer stood and set his emptied tankard on the nearest table, trying his best to seem normal and unbothered. Pay no heed... Pay no heed... Archer willed the Knight. He forced himself to take the half a dozen steps to the door with patience, and then he was out. He took a deep breath and then ducked around the corner, waiting to see if the Knight would follow.

Synder

 

[Pine]

Thaddeus Rossito​

Silvatica, Imperial Castle​

When Caius had seated himself, Thaddeus couldn't help but smile for a moment. It always amused and pleased him when the young were so comfortable around him. It was a direct reflection of the optimism instilled in youth by the Maker. It was a shining hope of the Maker's endless love, and it served to clarify his purpose again.

Thaddeus nodded along with what the Inquisitor was saying. "Yes, Kaiserna is a bit of a depressing center to be in, isn't it? It breaks my heart knowing so many souls are trapped there. They have nothing to look forward to, never to be able to enjoy all the gifts the Maker has given us within that prison. Perhaps justly so for abusing these gifts."

He sighed long through his nose, clasping his hands tighter together. "I certainly hope that would be the case," he said, dropping his gaze to the rug beneath them. It was made of the finest wool, fitting for none other than the Royal Family to be able to use. It was a waste when so many of their people were left outside to freeze in the colder seasons. "Lord Gislain left a stain on this city, appointed by the Maker, by attacking us who have only ever sought to better serve Him. As if that weren't enough, he invited the winged folk into our city. It is an insult to the Maker's first doctrine to appoint the Royal Family as our leaders. I'm afraid many of the Royals had forgotten the Prophet's wisdom, but they simply need guidance. Not some false idols to replace them."

He rested his hands back on the desk to better support himself, then refocused on Caius when his thoughts had been collected. "I was thinking that Kaiserna may be the next place to look towards," he continued. "Traditionally, the people there have served as a backup for the Royal Army, but as I'm sure you know, the people of Kaiserna have a certain apathy to them. People yearn to exercise the power of choice that the Maker has given them. Kaiserna may be the last leg the Royal Army is standing on, and all they need is a little nudge to remember the purpose the Maker put us all here for. But I would hate to send you there again after you've spent so long in that sad place. I can find someone else. I thank the Maker every day there are so many souls willing to give themselves wholly to His cause."

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
​

Archer suddenly had a flash of realization: I'm the Crown Prince! That means that I'm the rightful king, so even Great Knights should have to listen to me! Archer took a deep breath and straightened, trying to regain his dignity. The Crown Prince... Act confident! You're at the top of the food chain, Archer--act like it! He let the few people lingering outside the tavern pass before he went back inside, taking that time to steel himself.

When he did step back into the tavern, Archer's posture was perfect and his shoulders were squared. Even without noticing his relatively expensive cloak, one could tell that he figured himself important. A few inquiring glances were sent his way, a few of the viewers showing increasing interest and greed in their eyes, but Archer ignored them. He walked right up to Zan--or whatever his name was--and looked him straight in the face. They were the same height, and Archer was suddenly glad for his somewhat tall stature; it made him feel a bit less weak in this situation. After all, the Knight had weapons of all kinds and years of training. Archer, on the other hand, had his dainty, uncalloused hands...

"I noticed you took interest in me," Archer said softly, not wanting anyone but the Great Knight to hear him. Maker knows how many straining ears were pointed in their direction! "Because of this, I would like to speak with you." Archer glanced around once at the curious thugs around them that had grown quiet. "Privately," he added.

Synder (Mention)

 

[Synder]

「Xander Iril, Alleys // Oyster Bar, Valmundo \\ Interacting: PseudoLives
Great Knight -- "The Sleepless Knight."

Not a word spoken as the cloaked man left, he simply waited, deciding not to follow; if he wouldn't find it again, the rats would eventually return to the knight with some information. However, when Archer again stepped into the tavern, Xander raised a brow, glancing towards him as he approached. At the voice, a sharp and accusing glare became a hint of recognition in wary juniper eyes. "'Course lad, I'm always lookin' to introduce 'em folk to the trade," he'd respond in somewhat of a slurred voice, speaking somewhat louder than the newcomer. Onlookers were a dangerous thing, and the last thing he'd need would be finding an heir to only end up on the kingdom's radar. "What's ya gimmick? Doubt there ain't an extra workin' space in the shops." As he spoke, Xander stood, faking a limp and almost stumbling into Archer. An arm wrapped around the Heir as he began leading back out, all the while mumbling a whisper in a voice much crisper. "Any know of your location, my liege? Good, bad?"

Shortly upon exiting, Xander would make a sharp turn to their left, continuing to occasionally speak aloud slurred questions which grew fewer as they moved away from the tavern. "Have any others died, escaped? Where are the rest of your siblings-- beyond Caius, agh... Have you been injured? Why are you wearing this in Valmundo, my liege?" Xander continued to fret as they passed into an alley, in which he would remove his arm off of Archer, turning him and beginning the process of further dirtying up and tearing his cloak with use of the grime from Xander's own, as well as tendrils of what may as well have been solid ink stabbing and cutting into the fabric from beneath his rags. "Damned, I've heard of more recent executions, twas a good idea to come to Valmundo, though you should have prepared more beforehand.." Fretfretfretfret. Upon finally finishing up Archer's new Valmundo attire, he stepped away for a moment, nodding in approval of his own work. "Have any knights assisted you, or gone against this treason, any at all? Any of the other Great Knights?"

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
​

Before answering any questions, Archer looked down at his now-ragged cloak with disgust, running his fingers over the holes in the fabric. Then he again turned to Zan. "I'm wearing this because I thought surely even citizens in Valmundo would put some care into their appearance! Evidently I was wrong," Archer first spoke. Then he let out a disgruntled sigh. "Besides, as a prince I don't have clothes quite so ugly as those worn here..."

"As for your other questions, I'm accompanied by my sister. She's not with me at the moment, since it is common knowledge that Valmundo is dangerous." After a beat of silence, Archer's bored expression suddenly turned dark and his flippant tone grew serious. It had been months since Archer had fled Silvatica, and over a week since he had heard news of the capital.

"What do you mean, there have been more executions? Are Heirs still being killed off in search for a replacement?" Archer sounded genuinely disturbed, even though it was essentially his fault that the throne stood empty. Selfish as he could sometimes be, Archer didn't want other Heirs losing their lives for no reason! "What's been happening back in Silvatica?"

Synder (interacting)

 

[Synder]

「Xander Iril, Alleys // Wagon, Valmundo \\ Interacting: PseudoLives
Great Knight -- "The Sleepless Knight."

Ink slithered back beneath rags and sleeves once they’d finished their crude tailoring. Xander again began walking, eyes searching around their surroundings— behind trash heaps, up above, behind, maybe paranoia could explain his eternally tired features. “They do not wear all too pricey garments indeed, my liege. Then again, you wandered into the slums.”

Soon did Xander lead out from their alley, beginning to guide to the next; Valmundo branched out in interesting fashions, fortunate that most alleyways connected them. Almost a maze, an idea that made the Knight somewhat amused by his use of rats. “Many of these people do not bear the same fortunes as those of other lands, after all, Heir. They are citizens of the kingdom regardless, and deserve the protection permitted to all.” The man paused his train of thought for a moment, huffing. “Without requiring a fucking indoctrination...”

“The princess is safe? Grand, not as short on numbers as I feared... Did you leave her on her own? I pray not, sir, that’s an unbelievably horrible idea to split without any form of communication. We shall have to find her soon.” His pace momentarily slowing, Xander thought a moment before advancing through to the next alley. They were getting closer. “Lord Gislain has been executed. His attempts to create a new heir, I understand they were... They were unnecessary losses of life. But he was trying, and now he rests with his name in shambles. Beyond that, they continue to indoctrinate others to their beliefs, the throne remains without warmth. I believe the heretic Clergyman Thaddeus and Caius hold control, the former primarily. I’m still alive to protect the royal family and its people, regardless. Pray that the rest of the Great Knights remain the same... I doubt you would have heard from them?”

Upon arriving at a certain wall, Xander pressed his hand against it. Rough, grainy brick. His free hand grabbing Archer, the knight shoved both of them into the stone with as much force as he had. At first suffering obstruction similar to attempting to move through tar, they would exit out another end into a small crook bearing nothing but trash and a wagon, oak decorated with unlit lanterns and bags. Two horses stood completely still before it, their skin appearing to be peeling away. Leading into the wagon, it’s interior seemed similarly cramped, though with a certain organization to it.

Papers stacked in the inches upon various bolted-down counters, held in place by loose and rickety shelves and bearing both written word and sketches of faces, towers, memories. Cloth and grabs clipped to the ceiling above formed curtains in a darkness only lightened by small pebble-like orbs of faint electricity buzzing above, floating like fireflies. A crooked bed seemed almost out of place in the room, its sheets made perfect. “If you require rest, here is safe, my liege. I do not sleep here much often anymore. Apologies for the untidiness.”

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
​

Archer was preparing to respond to Zan, but when he was forced into a wall he gasped. As they passed into a room, Archer stumbled. He stood there, disoriented, before rubbing his arms fiercely. He had tingles from passing through the wall, and his stomach was lurching. When he finally felt a bit better, Archer shuddered once. "I doubt I'll be returning here, but I appreciate the offer." Archer glanced around at the room. "I wouldn't suppose that I should be staying in Valmundo much longer, anyways."

Archer sighed and took a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose, a thoughtful furrow forming between his brows. "No, I've not heard anything from the other Knights, but that's not my focus right now." He dropped his hand, but when his eyes opened, his brows stayed divided by a crease. "What's it you were saying about Thaddeus taking control?"

Synder (interacting)

 

[Synder]

「Xander Iril, Wagon, Valmundo \\ Interacting: PseudoLives
Great Knight -- "The Sleepless Knight."

"A sickening magic, you've my apologies, my lord," came a passing response to the notice of Archer's disorientation. "I must accredit your uncle for that one." Walking through the wagon, Xander searched about, skimming through piles of work and cloth. "Wherever you plan on resting then, I shall be accompanying, my heir. My main priority is to protect the royal family. However, I ask that you consider where else would be safe for you beyond Valmundo. There are greater threats than a common thief beyond here." Xander paused, considering. Gah, the other Greats would be a real help here...

"In that case, not many numbers to us. Not many publicly at the very least, though indoctrination is a deeply inefficient means of loyalty once power over an individual becomes more lacking, elusively or not." Eventually, leather was found within the cloth. Xander pulled through material, finding a large leather bundle of a sheath. Slinging its strap over his shoulder, he'd adjust an exposed lengthy hilt from its rest near his head. "Not much to say, really. Thaddeus has taken control of Silvatica. They answer to him now; he's released followers and begun to force all others to follow Obsequium teachings. Taken quite the few mages and students in his militia.." He paused, huffing as he again continued search, this time through a small crate below his counter. A small bag was recovered. "Tell me, have you any ideas as to how we shall recover, sir?"

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
​

Archer wet his lips before responding, upset by this news. "This puts me in a terrible position!" he said, more to himself than Zan. How ironic is that?--the runaway prince ends up having to make decisions for the kingdom anyway! he thought, letting out a long breath through his nose. "Agh, Maker... If I were to return to Silvatica and demand that Thaddeus stop forcing that awful religion onto my people, I'm sure I would suffer for it. I do believe that the same would happen if I sent another Heir..." Archer leaned against the nearest wall, feeling much too overwhelmed. He'd never been taught how to deal with situations like this! After a long silence, Archer asked something else.

"Where are the Great Knights in all this? You're here, but what of the others?" He paused, disgust creeping onto his face. "And the Court of Angels does nothing to stop this?! I can't say that I believe they'd take this lightly! The gluttons would never give up their human followers, I know that for a fact." Archer abruptly straightened and ran his fingers over the stone wall. "I must regrettably admit that we can't stay wandering. I'd scarcely head back to Silvatica, but at the very least we can get Thaddeus out of power--I've never known him to be a merciful man, much less a good ruler..."

Synder (interacting)

 

[Synder]

「Xander Iril, Wagon, Valmundo \\ Interacting: PseudoLives
Great Knight -- "The Sleepless Knight."

“Indeed it does sir,” he’d decide on with a moment’s pause. Xander shifted the paper of his package away, ripping open and uncovering a small and simple chicken-rice meal. Some few sparks of a deep violet lightning crackling upon and heating the meal, he’d soon split the meal in half on a clean plate, finding himself eating the other half from its paper package. “If you return to Silvatica with nothing more than your word, you will either be used, manipulated or slaughtered, indeed a bad plan of action.” Xander ate another bite, remaining silent as he chewed and swallowed before again continuing. “I cannot allow you to send another Heir, sir. It is my job to protect all of you, I may not pick favorites.”


“I’m… Unsure, as to the whereabouts of my other knights. I pray only for their safety or the honorable death they would deserve, lest they have chosen more… corrupt, paths.” The knight hesitated somewhat at that, a strange thought to consider. “Last I’d contacted them was to plan a proper memorial for the King, though... Mn. The Angels have been... banished, more or less, from the cities under control. They may provide support with proper negotiation, though the problem is in getting in contact with them to begin with.” Munch munch munch, Xander went silent as he took another bite, his face bearing its usual tired glaze.


“He is indeed far from merciful. If we travel there, we must with further preparation and numbers, sir. I do not believe you were given combat training, and I believe I trained my knights well. I would only last so long against all too many numbers.” Xander stepped out of the wagon with a few shifts, finding a seat upon its steps before the mucked alley wall. “Have you any other idea as to where to go from here? We could attempted contacting another peoples to assist us, seek out the other Great Knights, maybe attempt at the details of the rumored alternate world of Valmundo.” Munch munch. “There’s the option of attempting to band together with some of Valmundo’s gangs, though clear risks come with that... Helarium is, somewhat, another option, may be able to uncover something from it considering Thaddeus took many of its scholars. It has been left understaffed and populated.”

 

[PseudoLives]

Archer Gradalis
​

Archer was more than a little disgruntled when Zan mentioned his lack of battle experience, and he mentally reassured himself by recalling the many years he practiced fencing. It was hardly a comparison, but Archer didn't enjoy having his weaknesses pointed out. He decided not to mention his indignance, instead forcing himself to worry about the matter at hand: "I do believe that the angels would take our side in this situation, even if they're... unpleasant." He did his best to choose a kind word--if they were to associate with the angels, it wouldn't do for them to find out he had been spreading libel.

"The angels think themselves of the utmost importance, and Thaddeus keeping them from their worshipers is bound to really tick them off." Archer sighed, already feeling stressed. This was terrible! If his hair started to fall out... Archer shook his head slightly, trying to ward off the worry he felt about losing his good looks. "Anyways, whatever we choose to do first can wait until we've retrieved my sister." He glanced at Zan pointedly. "How about letting us out of this dreadfully small room, and then we can get to Dove?"

Synder (interacting)