Tales of Sythus: Rise of the Shadowlords; IC Thread

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    The Meetings In Kathar


    Current Time:

    The Empresses' Parade is almost over, and most citizens have retired to their rooms for the night. But some continue the celebrations and gather in the taverns for a hearty mug of mead and joyous conversation with their peers. The Empress, Catherina, has retired to her room, in which she has her throat slit by a group of Assassins, acting upon the word of High Priest Fingar. The citizens are swiftly made aware of her death.

    Several attendants to the Parade carry with them a letter. For some, it's from the Empress. For others, from Fingar himself. Upon the announcement of the Empresses' death, these citizens of Sythus hurriedly make their way towards the location detailed in their letters.

    Catherina's Letter (open)

    Fingar's Letter (open)

    #1 Ethir, Apr 20, 2014
    Last edited: Jun 9, 2014
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  2. [​IMG]

    [Kathar - The Winking Dragon Inn >> Kathar - The Rusty Brewer]


    The old man had just finished spinning out the Story of Creation as the announcement was blasted out across the city. All around him, people began to gasp at the sound of their Empress having been murdered and some cried out in disbelief, refusing to listen to the words of the calm female voice of the announcement. Nerom himself couldn't help but feel both admiration and fear towards the people that had accomplished this task. To sneak into the Palace itself was a near impossible feat, but to actually pull off the assassination of the Empress...He shook his head to dismiss his thoughts and stood up, unbalanced a little from the alcohol he'd digested that day. The inn was almost empty now, the patrons listening to the warning of the curfew and returning to the safety of their homes, though some were now questioning how safe they really were. Kathar was supposed to be one of the safest cities in Sythus due to the amount of guards roaming around, but tonight's events had unravelled the peoples trust in the City Guard and the great walls that surrounded this city. If assassins could penetrate the near impenetrable Palace, what else were they capable of? Sighing and rolling his eyes at the people around him muttering curses at the supposed lack of protection they were forced to live with, he turned away from the table at which the old man was still sitting and strode towards the door, pushing the flimsy wooden door with the smallest of force.

    The cold night air hit him like someone had placed a well aimed kick on his chest and winded him. With each breath he drew, it felt like he had a nest of bees swarming inside his lungs, constantly lashing out with their razor sharp stings. The knock to his system was a surprise, and he found himself leaning against the wall of the inn and gasping for air. A few guards were walking nearby and spotted him struggling to breathe, but they simply turned and walked away. Typical, he thought to himself, knowing full well the only reason they left him there was because they knew who he was. Almost every guard in the city knew he was a member of the Assassin's Guild, but they could never find solid evidence with his involvement in the crimes he committed, so they were forced to let him go if they ever captured him. And so, naturally, each and every one of them hated his guts, and they loved to cause him pain whenever they could, this being a prime example.

    It took him a while but Nerom finally managed to catch his breath, and after a few hacking coughs he was back on track to traversing the winding streets to the place he called home. The city now was as busy as it was during the day, almost everyone who had attended the Parade was out and about, hurrying to get home before the curfew started and they were locked up simply for looking suspicious. He thought it odd that Fingar would place a curfew like that, but thinking nothing of it he continued his walk down the people filled cobblestone street he was in. It wasn't until he was practically outside his own house he remembered he should be elsewhere tonight. He felt around in the bag he was carrying and pulled out a neatly rolled piece of parchment, tied together with a silky blue ribbon. He unravelled the paper and scanned through the letter again, still not believing the Empress would contact him, of all people, to carry out her final request. He found the location he was meant to be near the bottom of the letter and his eyes widened. The Rusty Brewer was on the other side of the city, and even at his fastest sprint there was no way he'd get there before the curfew started. He'd be caught by the guards and locked up for sure unless...Unless I take to the rooftops. He finished his thought and looked around him, checking the street was empty before he looked up and worked out a route to the roof. It was easier than he thought it would be, and with a well aimed jump, he started on his way up. He wondered if the person who built the house was perhaps a thief or assassin much like himself, because the way up was easy to find. Window ledges were placed perfectly for his feet, and stone bricks poked out from the wall here there and everywhere, making the perfect handhold. It was as if the house had been designed to be climbable. Not that he was complaining, it made his life a lot easier.

    He reached the roof with ease and looked around him, using the landscape to get his bearings. The Palace was directly in front of him, spanning from the east wall to the west, and taking up just under a half of the city's land. It was the pride of Kathar, and many people flocked from all around simply to stand outside in awe of its beauty. But Nerom didn't have time to admire the Palace and instead turned his eyes to the west, spotting the tall spire of the church on the far side of the city. That was where he needed to get to, The Rusty Brewer lay just opposite the church building. Backing up a little, he took a deep breath and charged forward, leaping as he reached the edge of the roof and landing safely on the roof of a house on the other side of the street. From there, it was a simple walk across several more rows of houses, as the architects of the city had rejected the idea of too many detached homes. Nerom didn't mind, it saved him jumping across huge gaps every time he walked from one side of the roof to another, and he enjoyed walking more than leaping around. It was a tad colder up here, however, and he drew his cloak around him to keep in as much warmth as he could.

    He was just over halfway to his destination when he heard the sound of a church bell in the distance. The sound repeated itself four more times before silence fell upon the city once more. Nerom decided the bells were a sign the curfew had started, and he quickened his pace. He wasn't exactly able to hide himself up on the rooftops of the city houses, and he didn't exactly want to get caught outside during the curfew. Unfortunately, his efforts of speeding up were in vain, because he spotted several guards stationed on rooves as he hurried by, and all of them were soon shouting at him to stop as they chased after him. He broke into a run, leaping across another gap in the rooftops and speeding away from the guards. He got thrown off course a couple of times as a crossbow bolt buried itself in a nearby chimney or roof tile, not too far from one of his limbs. You could say a lot of things about the City Guard, but they were a damn good shot with a crossbow. It didn't take long for him to ditch the roof idea and drop down into the city streets, using the twisting alleyways and his knowledge of the city to his advantage. A few minutes later and he'd managed to lose the cohort of guards that were after him, and he started on his way back towards the church, this time using more caution and keeping an eye out for any more trouble.

    It seemed luck was on his side because he soon reached the church and, looking across the street, spotted his destination. He clung to the shadows surrounding the church building and was about to sprint across the cobble street when he spotted a pair of guards outside the pub, talking to man standing outside. "Get inside Yurik. You heard the announcement" he heard one guard say to the man, who appeared to be outside enjoying a smoke of his pipe. "What, a man can't smoke outside his own front door now? What kind of world are we living in?" Nerom smirked at Yuriks' response, unable to help himself feeling a little admiration toward the man's lack of fear with the guards, "What's Fingar put a damn curfew on for anyways? Ya really think them assassins that killed old Catherina are gonna stick around? They had any sense they'd be long gone by now." Yurik had a puff of his pipe before looking at the guards and continuing, "Oh piss off will ya? I'm not doing anybody no harm out here. Cart me off to the jails if ya want, but I ain't doing nout wrong and you know it." The guards looked at each other and shrugged, turning away and walking back down the street. Peering out to make sure they'd gone, Nerom burst out of the shadows and sprinted to the other side, stopping just short of Yurik who was leaning on the door into the bar. "An' I suppose you're here to see old limpy in there?" Yurik asked as he approached, moving aside and opening the door, "He's upstairs. First door on ya left. And don't think about stealing nothing. I know 'sactly what's in there." Nerom frowned at the mention of 'old limpy' unsure of it's meaning, but he nodded at Yurik and stepped inside.

    The interior of the pub was much warmer than outside, and he found himself removing his cloak simply to try and cool down a little. The small fire in the corner seemed to heat up the building like a furnace, despite it's lack of size. Hanging his cloak on the coat stand, he walked across the wooden floor and made his way upstairs. Finding the door he wanted, he gripped the polished wooden handle, twisted it and pushed the door open gently. It creaked ominously as it swung open, revealing a dimly lit room containing nothing more than a few chairs and a table sat in the darkest corner. On the other side of the table sat what looked to be a man, his face hidden under the hood of his cloak. A small candle sat next to him, but it did nothing to help Nerom distinguish any features. He cleared his throat and spoke quietly into the darkness, "I'm here in search of Lukas. I'm assuming that's you?" His tone was, quite simply, nothing but blunt. He had trekked all the way across the city and risked both death and imprisonment to get here, and he hadn't wanted that trip to be for nothing, so it wasn't surprising he was being short with the occupant of the room. "Yes, yes," came a voice from under the hood. It sounded frail and Nerom guessed the owner was the other side of middle aged, "Please, take a seat. We're expecting a few others, but as soon as they're here I will explain everything. You have my word." Unsure what his word was worth, Nerom shrugged and took a seat in the furthest corner away from the man, not wanting to appear too friendly. "Well let us hope they don't take their time then."​
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  3. [​IMG]
    {Kathar ~ Outskirts >> Kathar ~ The Rusty Brew}

    The night is cold, the air like daggers in the lungs. Above, the moon is nearing full, and the stars have a hard time shining through the strange golden ring that has managed its way around the silver orb in the skies. The air gives warning enough, even without all of the other signs. The World calls to her, screams that she must run. She must make it in time. She must do this...or all will be destroyed. Beside her, Rysear soars just above the ground, his body glowing like a mirror to the skies above, showing more of the warning that the World shows all around. She is glad that the earth beneath her feet does not tremble, for then she would not make it. Instead, the ground is solid and steady, pushing for her to run faster. But even at the natural speed of a Druid, Dray could not make it all the way from the Whispering Wood to the western side of Kathar. She is lucky in the fact that she had arrived in the great city the day before...but even then, she must still make her way to the other side in mere moments, and the thought if it alone is enough to frighten her.

    Dray had gotten the letter half a moon ago, carried within the talons of a beautiful hawk sent from the city. Upon taking the strange parchment, she set the bird free to live his life wild. After all, it is within the nature of the Druid not to hold any animal captive. It was hard for her to interpret the words, for common tongue is not well known by her people. Their primitive language is basic and simple, and they allow their actions to speak more than their words, unlike the more...sophisticated people of Kathar. Nonetheless, with the help of the World, Dray got the message from the Empress, whom she had known for six years now. The fear of it embedded itself in the hearts of all Druid, for it was a prophecy - one that must be fulfilled. So, with heavy hearts, they sent Dray from the forest to learn the ways of sophisticated people...to stray from the forest, perhaps never to see it again. But for her people, for the Empress, and most importantly, for the World, she would take this task, though she was no adventurer. For a week, she prepared for her journey, packing light as usual, always able to find food and water on her way. And then, for a week, she traveled to the outskirts of the city.

    It is on the night of the parade that fear truly struck itself into her heart. The wind would pick up near the end, and though dazed from watching the strange lights, dancing, and merriment going on within the frightening streets of the city, Dray would acknowledge what it would mean. She pulled out the parchment again, checking the name of the place she needed to go, knowing that the World would guide her. It is about this time that the announcement blares throughout the walls of the city, and though it takes a few moments to decipher the words spoken, Dray understands that if she, as a humanoid, were to be caught when this...curfew...came about, she would surely perish, and so would her mission.

    Looking to Rysear, peridot eyes fearful and already full of adrenaline, she speaks. "Rysear....cortia u wvium fortomus opi Batoi timut quo?" | Rysear....can you become real enough to carry my things and kill the beast when it is time? | The little dragon gives a nod over her question, knowing that he will have to pull from her energy to do so. So, nearing the west side of the city, still running, Dray drops the weighty cloak from around her chest, baring most of herself to the frigid air before handing the thick cloth to her companion, who no longer shimmers in and out of view. Next comes the skirt, belt, and sword, handing all of it to the little dragon-like creature. Finally, taking a deep breath, she pulls the thick, black wolf pelt from the bag tied to her belt, draping it over her shoulders.

    The reaction is instantaneous. Her flesh prickles, her body shivering not from the cold, but from the change that already begins to happen within her. Bones begin to reform, and she stumbles, though not yet falling, the earth keeping her steady in her fast pace to the building she needs to be. Her face begins to reshape, and her skin begins to fall to the cobblestone, no longer needed for the fur that sprouts on the newly-formed flesh. She whimpers, but that is the only sound she makes, for she is used to the pain by now. The pain is a part of the change, and she welcomes the wild mind of the beast at a time like this. Basic instinct beats the complicated mind she is usually plagued with. Another stumble as her legs finally break into place, and she is suddenly on all fours. The last thing she would remember thinking as a Druid is the commanding need for the beast to move towards her destination.

    Then, she is Wolf. A black, shimmering pelt that melts into the shadows almost perfectly, but for the strange, glowing green hue that wraps itself around her. Her tail is long and fluffy, and her paws are large beneath strong, stocky legs. She is built to run. And run, she does, even with the hindrance of the knife between her shoulder blades. She takes off at a bound, keeping to the shadows, letting instinct guide her. The wind seems to carry her through the night, and as the four bells ring through the city, the Wolf gives a great Howl. Ah, what a joyous moment, running free. But she must remember that this is not her running free, for she is in unknown territory and must not be spotted. So, hidden well by the night, she darts from alley to alley, continuing her trek west in hopes of coming across the strangely named building.

    Eventually, after another ten minutes of searching, she finally finds where she needs to be. Finally at the entrance to the Rusty Brew, the wind stops blowing around her, and the earth seems to push her forward. All that remains is the golden ring around the moon, depicting that there is something more she will have to watch for, though not necessarily this night. The Wolf does not wish to go where she cannot see the sky, instead hunkering in the alley in hopes of staying out of view. It is there that Rysear pulls the knife from the flesh of between the shoulder blades and drives it into the Wolf's heart, killing her with a scream. Instantly, the body reforms itself into that of the Druid, the pelt covering her just barely. With a groan, Dray quickly clothes herself and enters the building, peridot eyes looking around the bar. One word utters from her lips as her eyes settle on the man behind the bar.


    The place smells of smoke, and the warmth of the fire startles her after being in the cold air for so long. Her mind is still muddled from where the Wolf still lingers, and she does not notice the older gentleman look her over, a flurry of shock, confusion, and what might be irritation play across his features. After a moment, he speaks, telling her to go up the stairs and into the first door on her left. She ponders over the words a moment, her mind flailing for a translation. And the moment she finally understands, he is pointing to the stairs on her left. She smiles gratefully to him before nodding and darting up the stairs, taking two at a time. Rysear, once more incorporeal, flies at her side, his body now like a raging thunderstorm. She takes the only partially open door there is, entering the dark room and looking around hastily.

    The man that sits, fully covered and within the shadows, gives nothing away to his appearance. Instinct tells her that the man is Lukas, which is who she searches for. But she knows there is another, and her peridot gaze comes to rest on another, hair white, skin dark, red eyes glowing ominously. A shudder passes over her, and her skin pricks at the sight of him. She says nothing, knowing this is where she needs to be, and uses the strange, dark-skinned man as an example, seating herself on the floor as far away from the two of them as she can, pulling the thick cloak over her bare skin, eyes closing as she sends a prayer for the World to watch over her, even here. In response, a breeze trickles in from nowhere, brushing her cheek and making her smile. This is a good sign...the first of the night. And it is that good sign that Dray clings to, hoping desperately that there is something that will help her help the World.​
    #3 Mowkie, Apr 20, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 20, 2014
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  4. [​IMG]
    (Alfirineth - The streets >>> Alfirineth - The Palace.))

    The announcement blared angrily in her ears as those words echoed uncontrollably within her mind in response, drawing her attention from the sky that previously intrigued her to a point she was beginning to day dream. Few times did she pay attention when she was free from working and the past few minutes were no different. Her reaction was quick, arms shooting to the sides as she span herself around, legs shifting till her form was crouched upon the roof that she was previously nearing sleep on. Rin herself would never admit it but the loud noise did shock her into more alert state but it also pushed her mood into a much more negative one. Lips curled into a frown as red eyes were poised on the castle, fingers clenching into the white material of her cloak. This was to do with that cursed letter that came into her possession recently. A sigh was ripped from her lips as the hunter stood with little trouble, fingers reaching up to pull the hood from her head as they trailed through blonde, almost white hair that fell down to her shoulder blades in length.

    It took her a few minutes of idle thoughts before she reached into her cloak to pull out the damaged parchment, ruin that occurred due to her lack of care for it, and roughly pulled it open as she let her bloodied orbs scan across the calligraphy. By no means did she trust this Fingar, she was almost tempted to simply wander off and ignore these summons but they caused a stir within the emotions she concealed so well and it was aggravating. Rin had long since decided she will try and humor the idea that this meeting will be interesting and worth her time. Having finished looking lazily over the words a couple times she harshly rolled it up before stuffing it back into the pocket in the web like white cloak that adorned her shoulders, draping around her form as it reached the bottom of her boots. Rin had to love her work uniform sometimes.

    She quickly pulled up the hood so it once again cast those mysterious shadows across her features, almost highlighting the dark red that circled her pupils before she turned upon her heels, her eyes trained and still as they focused upon the palace before she headed off. Her steps were quiet, hidden by the weak illusion that shrouded the reality of her presence. Curfew or not, Rin had no care to if she was late or not. Heading towards the side of the building she pushed herself forwards so she headed towards the solid ground, boots making the smallest noise that was shrouded by the mysterious power of her illusions. If she was expecting an enemy, Rin would be sure to silence her steps and presence, illusion or not, but all she cared about now was getting over to the palace and reply to the summons of the high priest.

    As she strode through the emptying streets she made no motion to pause and experience or view the beauty of Kathar, the beloved town that people from all over came to visit. Briefly her eyes landed on the occasional sight but it was a moment she allowed to pass quickly for her intention were not that of a visitor. Although she faintly wished that was all she was here for. Changing her trail of thought she began to think about Cherim and Marcem, the two descendants of Enzo. The two were innocent and naive and it easily amused her when they attempted to learn how to use a weapon. "To drop a dagger repeatedly and harm yourself in the process...Marcem is truly a repeat of his grandfather." Her voice rolled from her lips quietly but the tone was heard. It was soft for one of her profession, gentle as it spoke about the growing child in a fond manner. After all, she had witnessed the twins of Enzo's second son grow since their birth.

    Rin's thoughts about the twin terrors were ceased as she reached the Palace which caused her steps to slow to a gentle stop. It was truly a beautiful sight, one so heavily guarded that it caused a gentle smile to form upon her lips even for the briefest moment. "A work of art~" She cooed, resting her hand upon her cheek as she idly felt the soft skin where she knew the markings resided upon her flesh. Rarely did she think about then but when she did it made her irritated beyond understanding. Then again, few knew of the reason why she had those markings placed upon her features. Promises need to be kept and her one to Enzo, her late friend, needed to be engraved into her mind. Not only that, she used the triangle like marks to remind her of multiple things but her promises, any made, being the main purpose of them.

    Shaking off the disruption in her mind that would later have hindered her if she allowed to remain the woman, cloaked and hidden, walked up to the guards poised at the front. Her steps brought her in front of them and her eyes narrowed, the red showing through the shadows that encased her face. Of course she was questioned on why she was there and why she had not obeyed the curfew. With little care for the guards she sighed, lips parting as she obeyed something the letter had told her.
    "I'm Alfirineth Tanethas." After a brief, casual discussion that she merely created to make sure she would waste time. She was escorted to the throne room by one of them before she was left alone. Now, considering her irritation by this whole thing she was tempted to do something against this room but in respect for the late Empress she remained still, curious to why she and other people were being summoned here. However, one thought remained on her mind.

    'I wonder if Ruin is coming...'
    #4 Aka~Kitsune, Apr 20, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 20, 2014
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  5. [​IMG]

    When the announcement had rung throughout the town, announcing the murder of Empress… Lujurio had been looking at apples. While the reactions of the few others in the marketplace was immediate and loud, his own reaction to the announcement was near nonexistent---he simply turned a dark red apple in his hands, not looking up at the undoubtedly shocked and lamenting expressions of the few others in the market. It was shocking news, Lujurio understood that. For assassins to manage to infiltrate the palace, and to kill the Empress, it must have taken amazing skill. But any rulers, no matter how kind they could be, would always have someone plotting against them. Really, wasn't it more amazing that it hasn't happened yet?

    “It would be best for you to go back to where you've come from,” said the wizened owner of the fruit stand Lujurio stood in front of, not unkindly. As she had said that, she was starting to leave already, in a haste to get home before the fifteen minute time frame.

    “I will, thank you miss,” Lujurio said with a soft smile, handing her a few coins to cover the cost of the apple. Such a sweet woman. Lujurio hoped she would be able to make it home in time, she would probably die of shock if the guards tried taking her away. Lujurio turned and began walking away, mimicking the urgency that others had as they left. Except, he wasn't headed for home, like everyone else was. Rather, he was headed for the palace, where the assassination had taken place.

    The assassination must have been the event mentioned in the letter he had received a few days prior to today, and now he must do as the letter said, and head to the castle. Lujurio pulled up the hood of his cloak, shielding himself from the sharp winds of the night, and concealing himself in the shadows of the night. Lujurio was sure that the security around the palace would be extremely heavy. Merely that thought made him tempted to turn and start back toward Ronin, but he really needed to know what the letter was about, exactly. Besides, if the letter had really been sent from the High Priest, surely no harm would come to him. Unless, of course, it was a game to catch thieves while simultaneously entertaining the noble folk, which Lujurio didn't actually hold these people above doing.

    He ran through the streets quickly, hiding in alleys whenever a guard was headed in his direction. Silently, he cursed how far he had been from the palace at the time---he should have stayed near that place. But eventually he had reached the palace. Charcoal eyes stared up, up, up to the top of the palace, and stared at the guards who swarmed the palace like bees. Lujurio had to admire the assassins who had killed the Empress. Entering the palace unnoticed couldn't have been an easy task, with as many guards as it had. And now, Lujurio had to enter the palace as well.

    He took a deep breath, pulling his hood off his head and straightening up. He walked up to the castle with a purposeful stride, stopping in front of a guard and looking at him eye to eye, without so much as a flicker of change in his expression.

    “It is past curfew. Why are you here?” questioned the guard---no, he demanded an answer, in a tone that surely would have had most people shaking. But Lujurio was simply doing as the letter had told him, and he had just enough confidence in the letter to trust that doing as it said would keep him safe.

    “My name is Lujurio Blumen. I have come to the palace because I was asked to, and you will take me to the Throne Room, because you must follow the orders the the High Priest,” he told the guard. The last part of what Lujurio said, he knew was not needed. But he couldn't help but add it. It added a feeling that the guard would really take him to the throne room, not just throw him in the dungeon with the added knowledge of his name. And the guard really did take Lujurio to the Throne Room, leading him through lavishly decorated halls, and Lujurio couldn't help but slow down slightly to look at things. Surely, even the smallest table was worth more than Lujurio's entire inn. Nobility really did have too many things.

    The Throne Room was just as beautiful as the rest of the castle, but the difference was that, rather than crawling with guards, once the guard had left, shutting the door to the room behind him, the only people in the Throne Room was Lujurio, and a gray-skinned woman, at least a few years older than Lujurio was. She must have received the letter as well. But, the High Priest was not there just yet. It would seem that those who were more important saw no reason for punctuality.

    Lujurio chose not to interact with the woman. If she wished to talk to him, she could, but Lujurio rarely initiated conversation. Instead, Lujurio wandered around the Throne Room, producing his apple, which had been hidden beneath his cloak the whole time, though he didn't eat it. He felt that, even if a drop of juice from the apple landed on something in the room, Lujurio would be executed for his insolence. Those who lived in the Palace seemed perfectly capable of that.

    To be perfectly honest, Lujurio was still extremely worried that this was all some elaborate sham. As though any second now, the guards would burst back in and take him, and the woman who was also in the room, to the dungeons. While it might not have anything to do with just thieves, it could have to do with any sort of person the nobility just didn't like. Or Followers of Erthantis, considering what the letter had said. That would surely be a good enough reason to just throw them into prison, right? Millions of possibilities flew through Lujurio's minds. Of course he would be suspicious. No one just invited innkeepers into palaces without big reasons.

    It would be awfully nice if Fingar decided to actually make an appearance. It may give Lujurio the ease of mind that he really needed. He surely looked insane, wandering around looking at the decor of the throne room. Or at least, he must look fairly tempted to take some of the lighter things, because he was. If Fingar didn't come, he probably will.​
    #5 Nougat, Apr 20, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 20, 2014
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  6. [​IMG]
    [The Northern Mountains >>> The Queen's Palace Central Courtyard >>> Kathar - The Rusty Brewer]

    AuRon folded his wings and dropped a short distance to the ground, warmed from his mid-morning flight. He had caught a small water buffalo at the swampy areas nearby, and was pleasantly satisfied with his meal. However, he was not very pleased with what greeted him in his own home. A group of three dwarves, the chosen representatives of the dwarven village, stood waiting for him. As he approached, they all dropped to their knees and bowed, hurried and obviously not wanting to be in such a position.

    All they did after bowing was hold out a small piece of paper, and read aloud a message from a person that the Dwarven representatives had only heard rumors of, and someone AuRon knew very faintly. As AuRon dismissed the dwarves, and let them scurry past him and to their village closer to the mountaintop, he thought about the message. He had a much better memory than most hominids, so he didn't need paper or anything to keep a reminder. Deciding on what he would do, he returned to his home.

    An hour later, he was wearing a harness he requested from the dwarves, carrying many books that he would like to see rewritten and republished, lost books that had never seen another library before. He gathered what was, to him, great treasures, rolled a large, heavy stone in front of every entrance that leads towards the great library, and then burned the rest of the cave, turning it into a fiery hell that gushed smoke for days out of the single cave-mouth, and from many multiple side-exits, ventilation shafts, and other openings.

    With the fire ensuring that the dwarves would stay away for some time, and believe nothing to be left after that, AuRon took to the sky wearing a leather harness, and flew South, towards the Queen's Palace.

    By sundown, with the favor of winds, animal, and Spirits, he arrived at the city that the Queen called her home, from a height that he would never be spotted at dark. He flew above the city, watching the celebrations go on and slowly come to a stop. Then he could just sense the change of the crowd. The celebrations slowed to something more mournful; it was all too obvious that something tragic and catastrophic had gone on.

    Reaching the airspace above the Palace, AuRon spiraled slowly downwards, blending in to the dark sky until he came into the flickering light of the Palace. As he made to set down in the largest, central courtyard, he could hear cries of alarm, cries of "DRAGON!" as he dropped to the ground. However, it appeared they were not as rash and uncivilized as he expected; a [shaking] man soon came out to greet him, though he feared that he might fall apart from the shaking he had.

    AuRon gave a pleasant tilt of the head, a bow for a creature that is already on four legs, and spoke in the common tongue. "Come now, poor man, I will not hurt you. I admire your strength to face me; it is more than what can be said of your friends. I also have a small collection of books from an ancient hall in the mountains, that would be worth a fortune individually, if you would be so good to have them copied and placed inside the Palace's library. After this, I will be on my way, for I have orders from the Queen that I must follow."

    While his speech did ease most of the man's fear and nervousness, he still shook as he approached the rare-and-getting-rarer feline-like lizard to take the books that AuRon offered him. However, the moment two of the books were in the servant's, bulter's, or whoever's hands, the man let out a squeak from reading the covers, and nearly fainted. Whipping his tail around, he managed to catch the man before he fell, though AuRon scared the crap out of the man by doing so.

    Several minutes later, he found himself without his harness and books, taking off and leaving before they even knew what to do with him. He had a new destination in mind, and moved towards it, the Spirits blessing his flight with the knowledge of where he was to go.

    An hour later, he landed with a dull, slightly earth-shaking Thudd outside a tavern, marked "The Rusty Brewer." After a moment from standing outside [and scaring away many people who were loitering in the vicinity], he lifted one of his forearms, politely knocked [loudly], and then nosed open the door with his snout. Taking several steps to make his body half-in half-out of the tavern, he cleared his dragon-y throat and asked, "Might there be a bartender I could talk to? I mean no harm, I assure you, though I will kill whoever tries to harm me." He had to suppress a dragon's laugh at the sight of so many shocked faces. After several moments, though, a shocked bartender approached him. As the bartender came up to him, AuRon asked him [as quietly as he could], "Lukas?"

    Several minutes later saw AuRon exiting the doorway [since walking around inside a building is difficult for him, since he barely fits in doorways], and walking around to the opposite side of the building to stand on his hind legs, and gently 'knock' on a specific window with light shining from it with his snout.

    ((Cause he's too big to actually be inside...))​
    #6 Novum Genus, Apr 20, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 22, 2014
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  7. [​IMG]

    Marcella Bychan

    |Kathar; Bychan manor – Kathar; The palace |

    With the warmth of the day dying out so did the excitement that lingered in the air. It had been a busy day in Kathar, still was as the aftermath of the festivities that took place in the capital city. As in tradition and in custom people from all sides of the empire had come to celebrate the birthday of their beloved empress. Eating, drinking and dancing the joys away until the late hours, grateful that their empress had survived yet another year of her life, which she was to enjoy another prosperous year of ruling the country. That they all had hoped at least, that she was to rule for a long, long time and that she may be at health for an even longer amount of time.

    However it was the unfortunate wonders of life that it happened that today was such a tragedy. It happened straight after Marcella had gotten out of her bath, having cleaned herself off from the dust and sweat of the day after returning from the banquet held and invited by the empress. It had been the first year where she was to go without him, her fiancé who had now been dead for almost a year. Though that was another story saved for another night as her maid had rushed to her side with her robes.

    “There is a messenger at the entrance.” She spoke, draping around the chamber jacket over her nightgown. She had just been preparing to sleep, tired of the day and planning to get up early with the crickets of the morning to catch up on work. Though it seemed that the night had planned something else for her and Marcella let herself to be leaded away towards their entrance hall where the rest of her family was already waiting, all in the same state as she was. “Hurry up, will you.” One of her younger cousins had snapped at the attendant who was waiting patiently for everyone to arrive. Marcella placed a hand on the young teens shoulder, silencing him as she gave him a thoughtful look. “Did something happen at the palace?” she asked, worried. To be interrupted so late in the day could only mean bad news, but no matter how much Marcella racked her brains she couldn’t think of any irregularities back at the banquet she had attended earlier today. Nothing until the messenger announced the death of the empress. “Assassins forced their way into her room and took away her breath.” The man finished, sparing them the gruesome details as of how they went to work. Marcella gasped to herself in disbelieve upon hearing the news, grabbing hold onto her cousin’s shoulder as she drew a sharp breath. “Assassins don’t work on their own accord. What were the guards doing?” she questioned in a sharp tune, but a chuckle from her father made her realize that she was asking the wrong person about the investigation. Pulling her lips into a stripe as all kind of complots swam through her mind.

    “There is, however, a letter for you all.” The man followed, ignoring the earlier questions and dismissing the questioning looks from the other relatives within the Bychan household. Pulling out a roll he handed it to her father, stepping back respectfully as the head of the house read through its content, his hand signing that it was a message of importance. “Everyone.” The brash voice of her father sounded as everyone turned their head, attention set on him as he lowered the roll and tucked it away in his night coat. “Get ready to leave for the palace.” And with these final words he turned around sharply, turning on his heels to get changed so that he would be presentable for society. The rest followed, not bothering to question what reason there was to get moving as Marcella wondered whether they would receive the answers there.

    Not much later their carriages set out, dark clothes accentuating the solemn mood everyone was in as they returned to court for the second time this day. However, this time it was for another reason than the celebration of a birthday as everyone exchanged a look filled with questions with each other. Marcella’s father only sighing to himself as he shook his head. “Remember that from now on, whatever happens you shall obey the words given and bring hail to the name of Bychan.” Was all what her father had said when they neared the gates of the palace. The words were vague, signing something big about to happen, but what it was Marcella couldn't possibly think off. The words didn't order her to do anything extraordinarily. It just told her to act up to her role like she usually did, played out daily as a council member. “With the empress dead we shall and must fight to keep our positions within court, or else…” were the threatening words he had ended with and everyone inside of the carriage knew what it meant, not questioning any further as they all tensed up a little. The could feel how serious the situation was now as they neared the palace.

    When the carriage was halted by the guards Marcella turned her head out of the window, smiling down at the guards who recognized her. Customs, she knew and she knew that now with the murder of the empress the security would be even more tight, a logical reaction that everyone could place themselves in. “My apologizes to intrude at this late hour, however, the Bychan family has arrived to serve their country.” She spoke, her voice ever so soft carrying through the air, but clear to understand inside of the silent night as the guards gave them the sign to carry on, the carriage gliding over the grounds of the palace as they stepped out.

    The night air was considerably colder than what it had been at day, the sun now hiding out, waiting for the new day to turn by as to wake everyone up. Even the birds had gone to sleep as the air felt light, silence covering around them and darkness dusting upon them like a blanket. With a small lantern of a servant that was waiting for their arrival the group of representatives of the Bychan family was lead into the palace, towards the Throne Room were several others were waiting. Some council members with whom they worked together with on a daily base, some other comrades that Marcella could vaguely recognize from previous encounters and even new faces. She wondered what they all held in connection together for them to gather in the same room. It was odd as not all council members were present and none of them were of the same rankings, assassins and nobles standing together. One thing was clear to Marcella, they weren’t here to discuss the empress it seemed, this had nothing to do with her role as a council member but more as to her being and her alliance.​
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  8. [​IMG]

    [Outskirts of Kathar >> Kathar Castle Throne Room]
    The dratted letter was crumpled brutally in Ruin's clenched fists. She was breathing heavily with the anger and frustration she felt in her heart, knowing that she had to obey these dratted summonings while also having the worst feeling about them she could possibly have. 'It has come to my attention you are a follower of Erthantis' what a stupid way to start a letter to her of all people. It was so obviously some kind of produced and copied missive from Fingar to be distributed to a select few, which meant she was going to meet others in the sect at the end of her journey. People. The situation could not be worse. She had been so free for such a long time, she hadnt been summoned for weeks and weeks. A glimmer of hope had lit in her heart that maybe, just maybe, the whole bloody organisation had been suddenly destroyed or met some tragic fate and the next time she went back she would find her sister's cage unguarded and they could run away together finally. But no of course, the gods hated her too much for that.

    And so with a grimace on her face and her wings shuffling and flaring with nervous energy every five seconds, she had been pacing outside the gates of the city for at least an hour now. The dark shadows of the walls concealed her and in any case the Guards knew her by sight, they weren't going to involve themselves with Fingar's dog. She was hoping now that whatever sign she was supposed to be waiting for wouldn't be noticeable from outside the city and she could just pretend she never saw it or heard it and she could just be on her way. The wild was her home and when not on a mission she could actually remain peaceful and intrigued. She could follow paths and discover places and forget for a while that she was some cultist madman's bitch. Urgh she was making herself more angry just thinking about it and every tiny breath or footfall around her was making her want to tear out some throats with her teeth. And just at that most inopportune moment, there was a horrendous clanging as the bells of the city tolled angrily in Ruin's head. She gritted her teeth against the sudden angry pain ringing through her skull and bit down so hard on her lip she drew blood. Covering her ears didn't help much at all and she just pressed her forehead against the wall and dug the claws on her feet into the ground and waited it out. By the time the bells were done she had created huge furrows in the earth at her feet and the wall itself looked a little worse for wear.

    Shivering as she exhaled in relief, the half-dragon pushed herself shakily upright and shook herself out of the tremors she had running through her muscles. Well, that was probably the signal, she guessed. But screw that, she was going to wait this out as long as she could, to hell with being late. She tugged a bit on her horns to ease the dull ache still in her head and scuffed the dirt out from between the scales on her feet. The darkness properly fell over the city and she heard from a conversation the Guards outside were having that apparently the Empress had been assassinated. She couldn't bring herself to care at all. People in power got assassinated, that was the way of things. She waited with her back to the wall until the bustle and rush of the day dulled into the quiet of night and finally she got up and descended into the hell that was the city. As soon as she entered the crowded markets and echoing streets she immediately got a headache. Everything was too close and stuffy and she could smell the stench of every single individual in the city. Thankfully she had maintained a nice aura of fear around her which made people part to let her through and they all quietened when she passed. The evening dark should have made the streets almost empty but given the Empress's Parade, many were still out and about even at this late hour. Although now an aura of fear and discomfort was hovering over everyone, the bells were not part of the parade. Everyone knew now what had happened.

    Ruin was dragging her feet so she certainly went alot slower to the meeting place than she could have, but she still made good time and arrived just as she saw some important looking carriage pull away from the palace gates and some lady being lantern-lead up the stairs. She vaguely recognised her by sight and a brief concentration to the sound of her heart told her who it was. Lady Bychan, the delicate little thing who sometimes gave her assignments. Ruin jogged up the marble steps, her claws clacking against the stone rhythmically as she neared the guards. They knew her by sight as well and she didn't even need to say her name, passing them without a second thought, her long tail swaying behind her. She knew her way to the throne room and she came up into the hallway, ignoring the pretty decorations of the place and searching the gathered faces. As she expected, generally unsavoury types and basically a roomfull of people she didn't care for and had no wish to associate with. Ah! Except for one.

    She spied Alfrineth, or Rin as she knew her, in a similarly watchful position somewhere at the back of the room, Ruin guessed she had arrived first. She pushed her way through towards her friend and grinned at her warmly, instinctively wanting to pull her into a hug but wary of showing such emotion and potential weakness in front of a room full of people she was probably going to end up hating. Instead she gave a brief, military hand gesture that they both would understand as 'caution' before leaning against something beside her friend nonchalantly.

    "I was wondering if I would meet you here, good to see you again old friend." She murmered the words very quietly, low enough for only Rin to hear and Ruin should know, having probably the best hearing in the room. "Any idea what we're doing here? I've got a bad feeling, its making my scales itch." Rin would know that Ruin's 'bad feelings' generally meant more than any human's would. Ruin's bad feelings tended to save lives.
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  9. [​IMG]

    [Kathar - Palace Throne Room]

    Fingar stood outside the Throne Room, his ear pressed against the side door into the room, listening intently for any sounds he may hear. He wasn't expecting any conversation to occur, not yet. After all, he doubted any of the occupants in the room knew the others, though it was possible he had perhaps overlooked something. Admittedly, he hadn't researched these peoples' backgrounds as much as he'd liked, his act of summoning them here all rather hasty. He chastised himself knowing a slip up like that could mean there were other mistakes he had made, but he shook the feelings away and placed a hand on the ornately decorated wood of the door in front of him, bracing himself against it. Taking a deep breath, he gave a small pushed and watched as the door swung gracefully open.

    An eerie silence fell upon the Throne Room as soon as he stepped foot inside, and he noticed some of the guards shuddering slightly, as if his entrance had whisked all the warmth from the room. He couldn't help but smirk a little, his presence often making others feel like this. Often wondering why, he gave up searching for answers and a way to stop it, instead letting this seemingly natural ability flow through him. He didn't mind, watching people shudder when he entered a room usually brought a smile to his lips. Fingar's strides were long, and he soon crossed the gap between the side of the room and the centre, perching himself delicately on the throne and running his cold eyes across the rooms occupants. Guards lined the wall nearest the door, keeping a watchful eye on the Bychan representatives, as if taunting them to do something so they may run them in with their spears. The Bychan family held a place in court, and although Fingar usually agreed with their views, he was a little begrudged they held more places than most families. He sifted through the group of them until his eyes rested on Marcella, her gold streaked hair easy to spot amongst the crowd. His eyes caught hers and he smiled slightly, nodding his head in a slight bow, out of respect for the young adult.

    But his attention was soon drawn away to the rooms three other occupants. They fell upon Lujurio next, and his face fell tight around his skull, his lips pursed as he glared at him, as if daring his light fingered hands to find an object of value and pocket it. The thief may support the same Immortal as he did, but trust was something to be earned with that boy, and he had done little so far to earn it. The next target of his cold stare was Alfirineth, his fellow Dark Elf in the room. His dimly glowing red eyes traced the strange markings on their face slowly, his brow furrowed slightly as he questioned how she got them, wondering if they were there from birth or perhaps forced on by something unknown. But he didn't linger on her much longer, spending as much time on her as the previous two, but his attention was waning and soon found its next victim. His old runabout, the half dragon Ruin.

    "Ahh Ruin," his voice cooed quietly across the room as he broke out into the biggest smile of the meeting so far, "How pleasant to see you again. I trust you've been keeping well?" A small chuckle escaped him but he soon composed himself, "But enough with the niceties now my dear, we have business to attend to." The smile dropped from his face and he called a group of guards forward to escort the Bychan representatives out, all bar Marcella. "This meeting was only meant for these four lovely people," he called to them as several protested as he knew they would, "No need to worry yourselves with such trivial matters. Off you pop and go and raise the taxes or whatever it is you love doing so much." A casual dismissive wave followed them out the door as two guards closed the heavy oak panels shut behind them all. After the echoing bang of the closing doors faded away, Fingar broke the silence once more. "Now I expect you're all wondering why I summoned you here, some of you wondering why an importance such as myself would wish to be in your presence?" His eyes lurked on the thief he had earlier warned with a single look, "But believe it or not, we all share a common belief. You see, rather much like my letter says, I know you all support the Dark Lord Erthantis, despite the taboo surrounding him. And for that, I commend you. But." He stood up and began pacing slowly in front of the throne, "There's a better reason for calling you here than to simply congratulate you on a good choice of Gods, I wouldn't waste my time with such trivial things. I am sure you're all aware of the Creation Story? And how the Nine banished our most humble Lord to the Shadowlands? And I am sure you all familiar with how he sacrificed his power so he may give birth to five beings that would one day carry out his bid to destroy Sythus and everything the Immortals strived to create?"

    He paused a moment, staring at them all and waiting for his words to sink in, knowing the answer to each of those questions was 'yes', but he wanted to give their minds time to realise what he was about to suggest. "You all know these beings, the Shadowlords as they are named, are held behind the powerful barriers of magic the Nine left in place to ensure the darkness they have control of never escapes, and that this barrier is impenetrable. But what if I told you, it wasn't? What if I told you there was a way to bring down these barriers and unleash that darkness?" he grinned darkly as he continued, "And I'm sure you would all protest, shouting at me that I am nothing but a madman for wanting to bring about the destruction of all life, and I would agree with you were it not for this next part. You see, I have found a way to not only destroy the barriers, but I have found it is possible to also take control of the darkness that lay behind it, and exploit their power as our own! Think about it now, think very carefully. Perhaps think of times when you were bullied, or put down, or somebody caused you great pain and you now seek nothing but revenge, in the most terrible way possible," his eyes fell on Ruin, and a smirk fell upon his face as he conjured up the image of her captive sister in his mind, "Think how we could be seen as Gods in this living world, the way people would surely bow down to us from fear of doing something wrong and being devoured by the darkness we control! Is that not just the perfect thought to have?" A dark chuckle escaped him as he finished, breathing heavily from his speech and staring down at them all with wide eyes and a smile darker than his laugh. "You can think me mad if you like, but you can't deny that somewhere in your hearts, you seek that kind of power. If you are truly supporters of the lord Erthantis, you would know I am not suggesting the impossible."

    [Kathar - The Rusty Brewer - Upper Floor]

    Lukas shifted in his seat, but remained with his hood on as two people entered and took a seat, both speaking to him as they did. One, the Dark Elf, was had a tone that was blunter than Lukas would have liked but he replied with a nicer tone he was given. Shortly after, a Druid walked in and though she did not say her name, he knew who she was. "Ahh Dray," he mused quietly, using her shortened name out of fear he may get the pronunciation wrong, "I'm glad you could make it. Please, make yourself comfortable. We have but one more guest to arrive." And as if on cue there was a knock on the window, frightening Lukas a little and causing him to jump slightly. He managed to hold back an exclamation of surprise and instead peered into the darkness outside to see what had caused. Cursing quietly about his eyes not being what they once were, he unlatched the window and swung it open, almost hitting the dragon outside in the snout. "Oh!" He practically squeaked, from both fear and excitement, "AuRon, it's you! You gave me quite a scare there. I'd say come in but...well, that would appear to be impossible. It seems dear Catherina didn't think this meeting place through very well..." He waddled backwards a little, a quiet 'hum' sounding out from beneath his hood as he appeared to be thinking, "Perhaps it best if you just stick your head in? Yes, I think that would work just fine." Satisfied he'd solved the problem, he went back to his candlelit seat and removed his hood, revealing himself to them all.

    There sat an aged man, certainly no younger than seventy, with a balding head and a pure white beard that would surely rival that of Saint Nick's were he given chance to compare. His eyes were a deep blue, and when staring at another that other would feel as if his stare was piercing their very soul, if such a thing exists. In the dim light of the room, he had to squint to make out the two that had entered first, as they had both, inconveniently chosen to sit so far away from him and eachother. AuRon, on the other hand, was in a prime position to be seen, as Lukas had just so happened to sit next to the window. And so he chose to stare at the snout that was no doubt by now poking through the window, and couldn't help but admire the head of the dragon, always amused that Catherina had seen what he would otherwise think an unruly beast to be a useful ally. And now, staring at the scaled face he was presented with, he was starting to see why. All the stories of dragons he had heard painted them in an untamed light, making them out to be cruel, now almost brainless creatures, but Lukas knew that at least some dragons in the world still had to have a somewhat decent amount of the intelligence they were first born into this world with. He knew evolution could be harsh, but to jump from dominating monarchs to mindless beasts was surely a difficult thought for even Mother Nature herself to contemplate. He smiled kindly at the dragon as he looked away and attempted to make out the figures of the others.

    Squinting, he could just about make out the form of Dray as she sat, so far from his table, on the wooden floor. "Surely that perch cannot be comfortable dear? Come, take a seat at the table, it'll certainly help me see you better!" This was more an excuse for him to get them all gathered round closer so he needn't be so loud when talking, because honestly, though he was squinting, he could see her just fine. His eyes were drawn to the strange markings on her skin, and he made a note to ask her their significance if he ever got a chance. But for now, he would not embarrass her in front of in front of them all by singling her out before seeing to it that everyone had been included in his initial sweep. And so his attention turned to the Dark Elf sat on a chair in the furthest corner, his glowing red eyes reflecting in the shimmering blue of Lukas' own. "You too should think of joining us up here," Lukas called to him as he motioned forward with his hand, "It won't do for me to be shouting so loudly. We have important things to discuss." Certainly, having a dragon dangling from the window wouldn't help kill any suspicion anybody had, but speaking in a lower tone would surely stop neighbouring rooms from hearing them all. The walls did, after all, have ears in this city, and Lukas was too paranoid to let his guard down, especially not tonight.

    "Come now, gather round all of you," his voice had quietened almost to a whisper now, "As you all know, sadly our beloved Empress has been murdered, but as her letter makes it known, she was aware something like this happened. Catherina was a dear friend of mine, I watched her grow up and even helped to teach her things on her way to becoming the Empress, and so it pains me to know that her soul has passed on so early, but as she told you all we must not dwell on it. Assuming you read your letters well, I'm sure you no doubt have questions of the whisperings of the dark plot she mentioned?" He stopped and coughed a moment before regaining his composure and continuing, "There are forces out there, dark forces, that no longer see this world to be of any use, and wish to raise the darkness from the Shadowlands in an effort to rebuild the world as they see fit. And so, naturally, they must be stopped!"

    He slammed his hand down on the table and the noise echoed around the room a little, "I am sorry, I got carried away there. I'll refrain from that in the future and try to keep the noise down. No doubt you all think me mad, you all know of the barriers that hold back the forces of darkness, placed by the Immortal Nine so long ago. But these people, these cultists if you like, have somehow found a way to break them, and rumour has it they plan to attempt to even tame the beasts within. Now, I am not sure how much of the information they hold is valid, but you don't try and pull off something like that if you're sure, with absolutely no doubt in your mind, that this will work, and so it is vitally important we work together now to ensure they don't get away with it. I don't think I need to tell you all how devastating it would be if the darkness was unleashed upon this land." Lukas gulped and let out a short sigh, looking between them all, "I understand this may be a lot to take in, and I know you will no doubt have questions, so I invite you all to ask them now, so that we may move on and begin forming a plan."

    [Kathar - The Rusty Brewer - Upper Floor]

    Nerom sat quietly in his corner as another person arrived in the room, a barely clothed woman with strange markings on her skin and seemingly a blade tied in her hair. He didn't recognise her as a creature around these parts, but he knew of her race by word of mouth. She was a Druid, heralding that she was from the Whispering Woods, the one place in Sythus he was yet to set foot in. The hooded man greeted her kindly, mentioning it was nice to see her. Nerom managed to hold back a snort, half offended the man did not extend such pleasantries to him, but he was mostly to blame with his blunt tone upon entering the room. His thoughts of offence were short lived however, as a knock at the window, shortly followed by Lukas' exclamation which was then followed by the head of a dragon appearing through the window, interrupted his train of thought. A dragon?! he thought quietly, Oh that's just fine. An elf, a fairy and a dragon walk into a bar...A slight smile fell on his lips as his thoughts sounded like the beginning of a very bad joke, but he soon straightened out his face again from fear someone might catch him and ask what was on his mind.

    His attention turned to the dragon now, his eyes widening slightly at the great head that took up most of the window and he wondered for a moment just how big the rest of him must be. The grey skin of the dragon reflected the candle light in odd ways, and Nerom found his eyes captivated by the flickering shadows on the floor, acting as if he were a child and trying to make out shapes and such in the flickers. The old man's voice distracted him away as he was addressed and it was suggested the Elf move closer, to allow Lukas to quieten his voice. Shrugging in agreement, he stood up and crossed the room in a few strides, perching himself on a chair opposite Lukas, now not wearing his hood. This close up, he looked even older than ever, his wrinkled skin and whitened hair a sure sign he had seen his fair share of years pass by. Nerom let his eyes wander over his features as the old man addressed them all, and he slowly let his words sink in, one by one.

    "Who in this world would seek such a thing? And certainly, who would be mad enough to try breaking through those wardings?" He asked Lukas as he finished his speech and invited the questions to start, "You would have to have lost every last ounce of sanity to attempt such a task!" Nerom shook his head slightly, "But what you speak of...I have never heard of any sort of ritual powerful enough to do what you say. Lets say, hypothetically, I believe what you've just told us. How do they expect to carry this ritual out? And how are we expected to stop it? In case you hadn't noticed, we are only three...perhaps the dragon on our side bumps our numbers up by a few but surely not enough to outnumber these cultists you mention? It would have to be an organised group of several members to seek out such a dark and dangerous ritual. We will certainly fall against numbers like that." It was unlike Nerom to be the voice of the pessimist, but what he spoke was the truth. He seriously doubted that the three people called into this room had the means to keep the darkness in the Shadowlands at bay. He looked to the other two in the room, first to the Druid Lukas had named Dray, then to the dragon he had called AuRon, "What do you two think of all this? Surely you cannot think we would come out of this alive?" He sighed before adding one final note, "Since I know both your names, I think it only fitting you know mine. Nerom DeGrasse," he stated his full name, as always he did when in the presence of new company, "At your service."
    #9 Ethir, Apr 22, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 23, 2014
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  10. [​IMG]

    [Kathar - The Rusty Brewer - Upper Floor]

    AuRon didn't quite know what to make of it. While fluent in many languages, including many that are long-past, the common hominid tongue was in such a way that it was hard for him to speak it for an extended period of time, or even think with their words. Nevertheless, he listened as best as he could and only missed about every 6th word or so. He let the words sink in, and then asked,
    "And how does this concern me? I live in the mountains, and from time to time I watch various little shadow-critters in their own habitat from our side, and I don't see why I need to concern myself with hominid concerns. What is there for me? I live in the mountains, and know of a dozen more dragons, much bigger, stronger dragons, mind you, that would be able to repel a force that seeks to end Dragonkind. I see no reason to risk my own life for the life of those who normally try to kill me for money, fame, or both. I suspect I'd be put to work as a lowly mail carrier, or some mighty steed for some mighty hero, whose fame will only reach me as some servant?

    I have my skeptics, and I see little in my favor, hominids. If you would like to convince me otherwise, I will certainly listen."

    "And don't blame me for having to stick my head up here. I may fit in a room, but it'd be uncomfortable for me, and uncomfortable for you. I would've suggested meeting at a clearing I saw as I passed overhead, where one could stay away from prying eyes and ears. Oh, one moment, someone's trying yank on my tail!"

    AuRon ducked out of the room for a moment to swat at a little boy trying to yank part of his scaly-patterned skin, the tip of his tail producing a very whip-like CRACK! that appeared to frighten the hell out of the little boy. He tried to run away, but AuRon stopped him by wrapping his tail around the little boy [and his mouth, before he started screaming], and quickly thrust distant memories of satisfaction, happiness, calmness, and serenity into his mind. Of course, some time in the future, the kid will wonder why he remembered sitting in front of an old statue that had become the centerpiece to a stream, content with a bellyfull of buffalo and sunning himself with strange, dragon-like forelegs in front of him, but that didn't really matter to AuRon.

    In any case, it shut the kid up. AuRon gently set the kid down, who looked up at him with a lazy, peaceful smile. AuRon purred for a moment, before gently pushing on the kid to make him start heading... home? To his friend's? Uncle's? Didn't matter to AuRon.

    Then he turned his attention back to the tavern, and poked his head back through.​
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  11. OOC: Typing on a laggy tablet is painful. It took me, like, an hour to write a paragraph DX Now, I'm very sorry for sticking all the things Fingar said in my post, I wasn't going to because there are a lot of words in my post now that aren't mine, but this is a hell lot easier.
    [Palace Throne Room]

    The throne room was slowly getting filled. The first people who had entered after Lujurio was a family, dressed neatly in dark clothing. Lujurio recognised them; the Bychan family. A noble family, although they haven't been considered this for quite as long as others in the court have been. Despite that, they had it fairly easy, as far as the citizens of Sythus went. Lujurio hadn't them to be Followers of Erthantis though, it surprised him quite a bit and he may have watched them just a bit longer than he should have. Then again, following Erthantis was not something people would publicly announce, and people at their level would probably try their best to act like happy, nice Supporters of the Immortal Nine.

    The next person, appearing not too long after the Bychans, was a woman, considerably older than Lujurio was. She was not someone Lujurio knew of. If he had ever seen her before, he most definitely would have remembered her. She was clearly a half-dragon, the scales on her skin and horns on her head quite visible. She immediately brushed by to go to the woman who was there before him. Friends, perhaps. Most people were bound to be close to someone who held the same beliefs as they did. It was really only Lujurio who seemed to have no one around. Guards were also entering by then; that woman must have been the last person to come.

    Then, Fingar entered. The others in the Throne Room fell silent when the door swung open, and Lujurio watched as he strode towards the throne, sitting down with the sort of poise Lujurio would expect of such a person. He had an intimidating air to him. The guards, who had seemed so very confident when Lujurio had arrived to the palace, seemed to shake at the sight of him. Admirable, really, for one to be able to hold such control over others. While the Empress had seemed to be a person who was respected enough to be followed, the High Priest was being followed from pure fear. Judging from how things turned out, with Fingar sitting in the throne while somewhere in the castle, the Empress' lifeless body rested, Lujurio could guess which method worked better.

    It was rather unnerving to simply stand there, watching the silent High Priest. But perhaps that was what he intended. Nonetheless, Lujurio decided not to just watch him, and just look to the side, at a particularly nice vase. It was quite pretty, and maroon was his favourite colour. Of course, the High Priest chose that point to point his cold stare at him. Lujurio could feel his eyes on him. Lujurio lifted his hand, touching the dark scar on his cheek, a sort of unconscious movement. He lowered his hand quite quickly, though, and turned his head to face Fingar again, until he moved his gaze to observe others.

    It was the dragon woman who he watched the longest, even breaking into a smile as he smoke quietly to her. It wasn't a smile between friends, however. It was too cold for that. Perhaps the two knew each other, but they couldn't possibly be friends. It has to be a more sinister relationship.

    It was once the High Priest had gotten everything sorted out, getting the guards to escort the elder Bychans out, as they apparently weren't supposed to be there, that he turned his attention to the four who stayed. “Now I expect you're all wondering why I summoned you here, some of you wondering why an importance such as myself would wish to be in your presence?” His eyes flickered in Lujurio's direction for a moment, and Lujurio felt a pang of anger, although he had thought something along those lines earlier. Thinking something and having someone else say it was a different matter altogether. But Lujurio masked his anger, and silently continued to listen.

    “But believe it or not, we all share a common belief. You see, rather much like my letter says, I know you all support the Dark Lord Erthantis, despite the taboo surrounding him. And for that, I commend you. But,” he stood and began to slowly pace before the throne, There's a better reason for calling you here than to simply congratulate you on a good choice of Gods, I wouldn't waste my time with such trivial things. I am sure you're all aware of the Creation Story? And how the Nine banished our most humble Lord to the Shadowlands? And I am sure you all familiar with how he sacrificed his power so he may give birth to five beings that would one day carry out his bid to destroy Sythus and everything the Immortals strived to create?”

    So that was what he wished to talk about. Well, it did make sense. Lujurio watched him steadily, waiting for him to continue speaking. The High Priest, who seemed so sadistic and power hungry in the few moments Lujurio had spent in his presence. Lujurio could almost hear his next words before he had said them. “You all know these beings, the Shadowlords as they are named, are held behind the powerful barriers of magic the Nine left in place to ensure the darkness they have control of never escapes, and that this barrier is impenetrable. But what if I told you, it wasn't? What if I told you there was a way to bring down these barriers and unleash that darkness? And I'm sure you would all protest, shouting at me that I am nothing but a madman for wanting to bring about the destruction of all life, and I would agree with you were it not for this next part. You see, I have found a way to not only destroy the barriers, but I have found it is possible to also take control of the darkness that lay behind it, and exploit their power as our own! Think about it now, think very carefully. Perhaps think of times when you were bullied, or put down, or somebody caused you great pain and you now seek nothing but revenge, in the most terrible way possible.” Was it just him, or did the priest look at the dragon woman at that last sentence? “Think how we could be seen as Gods in this living world, the way people would surely bow down to us from fear of doing something wrong and being devoured by the darkness we control! Is that not just the perfect thought to have?” He chuckled at the end of his speech. Such a dark sound.

    Fingar looked insane, crimson eyes wide, and he panted slightly from the force at which he had recited his speech. But despite how breathless he appeared, he had a giddy smile. A smile which generally just made people seem quite annoying, it instead twisted his features, making him seem even more evil. Perhaps he was insane after all. Insane with power. But… He did have a point. To have a place where he could be at the top, or at least as close to the top as he could. That would be such an amazing thing, wouldn't it? Though, Lujurio wasn't sure that he really wanted to gain power from fear.

    Like he had heard Lujurio's thoughts---and perhaps he had---Fingar continued to speak. You can think me mad if you like, but you can't deny that somewhere in your hearts, you seek that kind of power. If you are truly supporters of the lord Erthantis, you would know I am not suggesting the impossible.”

    And yes, Lujurio truly didn't believe that such a thing was impossible. If a path can be blocked off, surely it could be freed up again. But there was one thing bothering him. Just a small thing. Did he dare speak up about it?

    Yes. Yes he did.

    Lujurio's hand brushed by his cheek lightly as he spoke. He chose not to step forward, instead just speaking up from where he was. It made him feel better when he at least tried to go unnoticed for a moment. “I''d really be glad to aid you,” he began, “But I'd like to know more about how you plan on really doing that before anything else. You don't explain much about how we could actually help you do as you plan. If you want people to agree with you, you should explain things carefully.” Most of his reason for saying that was really out of curiosity. Part of it was just that it was because he was mildly annoyed at Fingar not being specific. He did have a shorter temper with people who had power, no matter how much or little it was. It probably had to do with how simple-minded they could be. Power, money, women, that was all they needed. Neither reasons were probably particularly good, though. But Lujurio figured that Fingar was going to need as many people as he could, so Lujurio was a bit more relaxed about it. At least, he figured Fingar wouldn't kill him, though there was a possibility that he'd decide some dungeon time would be good for Lujurio. Lujurio figured he would be able to get out of that. But if Fingar wasn't talking about something so important, Lujurio would probably just stay quiet and listen. Perhaps other people did things differently. But Lujurio had the decency to stay quiet and wait for him to finish speaking, at least. He was probably finished speaking, anyway.​
    #11 Nougat, Apr 22, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 25, 2014
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  12. [​IMG]

    ((Alfirineth Tanethas >> The Palace's Throne Room))

    Rin had found that day dreaming while waiting for this incredibly useless event to start in whatever manner it was designed to was a better waste of time. Her thoughts ranged from what she would go and find to eat even to when she was planning to return to the Freezing Isle's to visit her parents briefly. They always had to be short visits in case she was followed and her parents, wanted by many, were caught. Each thought was brief though, ranging from a few seconds to a couple of minutes before they switched to another thought. The reason to why she was here never once crossed her pre occupied mind once though. It was only when a male, human entered the throne room and she was forced to cast her glance to him for a moment.

    Then another came and it was a large grouping of people, well it was large to her standards considering she grew up away from many others. Her mind relayed previously noted information until she came across something that related to the people who walked in. Bychan Family, more importantly Marcella. While she only knew the one Bychan family member she was not on the best relationship with her. She was merely a comrade, someone she would easily work with but at the same time had not placed any trust in. Regardless she gave a brief wave, a smile raising of the hand before she was surprised by the new appearance of one half dragon.

    Reaching up, Rin finally plucked the white cover from her head so that her face became visible and no longer was it just the piercing red eyes that were seen. Her face, marked with the permanent symbols of her promises upon her cheeks was pulled into a soft smile as she brushed a hand lazily through the barely tangled locks as the blonde, nearing white hair slid easily through her fingers. "Ruin.." She murmured before smirking at the military like action before giving a small, brief one in return simply for her own amusement. "I am glad you arrived. I need someone to chat with in such a natural way." Rin added as she placed her hands upon her hips, causing her upper arms to brush away the cloak that previously concealed her whole body.

    With a gentle shrug she could only shake her head in response to her dear friend, a sorrowful look within bloody orbs. "I apologize dear, I do not know a single thing. I honestly was surprised by it but also at the death of the Empress. To actually be able to reach her and complete such a task...I have to respect the person able to do that.". Her eyes shifted over to the others before back to Ruin, once again a soft smile against her lips. "So, tell me my old friend, how have you been since our last encounter?"

    However, she received no reply as the one who summoned them all entered. Such a cold entrance provoked fear that almost brought Rin to respect him although currently he was just labelled and annoyance. She shuddered when she felt his eyes on her, more specifically the markings that stained her cheeks. Discomfort clear. Rin watched with narrowed orbs, red glaring over at red as she tapped her fingers impatiently upon her waist, head tilted to one side. He finally took a seat in the throne and a dark smirk was brought to her lips in response. "Now I understand a bit..." She whispered before waiting for him to talk, to explain why she had to waste her time by arriving here at such a late time.

    Dark orbs remained barely open as he talked. That did not mean she felt nothing, in fact shock was apparent if one could read her mind as she found that the man could possibly be...well insane. Rin was easily able to mask such trivial feelings with boredom as she continued to wait out for the end. To be honest she was highly intrigued and even motivated by the words of the other dark elf. To be above others? Revenge? The thoughts began to replace her old one as she hummed. It would be possible then for her family to remove themselves from hiding like hunted prey.

    He finished and Rin allowed the human to speak before she turned her gaze towards Fingar, fingers ceasing the occasional pattern of taps upon her own skin. "While I have to agree with your previous statement of believing you and mad man, I am interested in your idea." She paused, tilting her head so her hair sprawled messily over her shoulder, her eyes holding a glimmer of amusement. "What with such tempting results" There was a silence from her before she forced her expression to become serious. The other male in the room asked the very question that plagued her. "But I also wish to know what it will require of us. What will we need to do to gain such a beautiful future. What will it involve? Are we to listen to your words and obey them?" The last part was spoken with a tone of annoyance, her eyes narrowed slightly. "You failed to explain so much in your speech that we stand here in suspense for the details Fingar."
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  13. [​IMG]

    Ooc: Late, late, heavenly late! Life roared its ugly head in the form of college and I managed to beat it only today. Hail the king who is turning… I don’t know how old, but at least it announces a week holidays.

    Marcella Bychan

    | Kathar; The palace – Throne Room |

    The entrance of the Bychan family hadn’t done much effect to the room, just that there was a wide spot free for them to stand, only a few council members daring to approach them as the rest all just stood out of it. It was all understandable, for the Bychan family were involved closely inside of the politics of the country, most of its members being somehow affiliated with the council or even holding a seat inside of it. For all it mattered they held an honourable position within the country and that was enough for the others to leave them aside with a respectable distance. However the eyes that were set on them and specially these from the guards were everything but calming. Alas, there was nothing to do about them as it was the price they had to pay for their fame.

    Marcella herself had been silent ever since they had entered the room, every now and then acknowledging the presence of another council member as they approached each other to speak of the empress’s death. “Horrible.” They whispered, some wringing their hands together nervously, others speaking of the beginning of manslaughter. “We will be next.” one of them said in a bitter tune, afraid that it were rebels trying to overthrow their country. “Don’t jinx us.” Marcella’s father snapped at the council member, narrowing his eyes at the small quivering figure. “If we will have to die, so be it. However not without a fight.” The man declared, his eyes shining in determination as it showed exactly why he was the head of the famed Bychan house. The natural complexion of a leader, unafraid and ready to face and lead his family into the danger, this was exactly why the more indecisive felt intimidated by him and why she and the rest of her family all followed him in every word he said. Silence fell between them again and the council members left the group of representatives of Bychan alone. All of them having their eyes fixated on the throne, wondering who it was that would rule their country of peace now that the empress was gone. However that question was soon answered as the doors to the Throne rooms opened again revealing a figure waltzing in.

    Marcella cocked her chin a little higher into the air as she saw High priest Fingar walking in, following him into the room with an observing eye. Something about this man brought shivers down her spine, the kind that told her not to trust the man as he was as slick as a snake. Though, Marcella had learnt that this was only an appearance for there was a reason why he was the right hand of their late empress. She had also learnt that she had no reason to fear this man as long as she didn’t make him out to be her enemy, to which she had no intention to whatsoever. Their eyes met for a little while as Fingar smiled at her, paying his respect to the female which she returned, though without smiling. It felt inappropriate as the news of the murder was too fresh inside of her mind, specially now as she was standing inside of the Throne room. Her eyes forever focussed on the High priest, wondering what was to happen next.

    Though when he stopped to address Ruin Marcella knew that they were starting the meeting for whatever the purpose there was. Watching how her relatives were all taken away by the guards the female stood firmly, her back straight and her posture composed, awaiting whatever was to happen next. “Remember your role.” Her father whispered to the female as he was escorted out of the room. Marcella only gulping to herself a little as she nodded to her father almost unnoticeably, she was aware even without him reminding her, but it never hurt to press it onto her again. However Fingar wasted no time as he followed once the people were all out and only the four remained. Drawling off onto his importance to the court and his presence that was a supposed grace to them. If Marcella had been grown less carefully and hadn’t been taught the manners and etiquettes for long hours spread over years, then she would have scoffed sarcastically at him and rolled her eyes. Instead she held herself composed, knowing what the consequences were to insult the man as she just kept her eyes straight at him, still waiting for the reason as of why she was here with the other three. What their relation was to each other as it was obviously not their social ranks.

    However a slight reaction of surprise crossed the face of the female when he mentioned the god Erthantis, the banished lord that everyone scorned. It was true that if the Bychan family was any more interested in religion that they would follow Erthantis, having found him to be the wisest of them all, but it was as unspoken of as it was unheard of to even whisper the name of the dark lord. The Bychan had chosen the god Erthantis for his sacrifice and wisdom, not for the actions he undertook, finding that what Erthantis believed was indeed true; humanity did tend to destroy everything and the world would be better off without them. However, the mention as to destroy the country was horrifying, not the reason for why they had chosen to follow as Marcella took in a sharp breath, trying to hold her tongue from saying something unacceptable. First she had to wait for him to finish.

    Unknowingly the female had been holding her breath in anticipation, her fist clenching her black mourning dress as she listened on. Controlling the darkness, the pain and grief they had to experience. They all sounded so alluring, but at the same time so very traitorous towards her own believes as a pacifists, refusing having to hurt others or to have resolve to destruction. She knew however that there was a reason why he had invited her instead of her father who was the respective head of their family and would have caused a greater impact. Clenching her teeth to each other the female tried very hard not to speak out her judgement to the man as she threw her chin into the air again, faking an air of confidence as she stood there between the other three, listening to this horrendous plan. He would never agree of having Marcella be dragged into such a plan, he would have rather be kept death if it was for the fact of keeping her out of this idea. However he wasn’t here, no matter how much Marcella wanted him here and as she closed her eyes she wanted to refuse. Fingar was right, deep inside of Marcella’s heart she desired some form of power that would avoid future pain, but she knew that it was only wishful thinking.

    The silence after Fingar’s speech wasn’t long as the other two decided to speak. A blonde male, about her age mentioning how he never had explained his plan and indeed Marcella found herself asking the same question as well, not ready as of yet to refuse the plan and neither to join hands. Alfirineth followed not too soon after with the same question, pressuring the High priest into answering as Marcella flickered open her eyes again, chestnut brown circles staring at the man expectantly. She didn’t speak, it had already been done for her as she was now to be patient and wait for answers to come. Answers to the plan, answers as of how he wished to control the darkness, answers, she needed them before she could make a decision, but something inside of her told her that she was left with little choice and at that a sigh escaped her lips.​
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  14. [​IMG]

    [Throne room of Kathar Palace]

    Rin was as beautiful and warm as always, which was strange for someone in her profession, nevertheless Ruin appreciated it since it was rare for her to ever find a friendly face on her travels. But argh, she really didn't like this. None of them knew what they were there for? Ruin assumed, since she wasn't truly a supporter, she might not be told at first, but not even their most talented mercenary assassin knew? This reeked of trouble and it certainly reeked of Fingar. Ruin shook her head and growled out a cautious sound before opening her mouth to reply. She was also pretty impressed by the Empress's assassination but then again she really didn't care at all and she was about to say as much. Unfortunately she was very suddenly interrupted by the bastard himself. Fingar looked slimy and scheming as ever and almost every movement he made seemed to raised the hackles on Ruin's neck and back, even before his eyes even found her.

    Urgh, she felt her skin shift and crawl under his gaze, her whole body rippled as her scales lifted like fur on a cat, making her seem ferocious, big and dangerous. Of course it didn't really work and it wasn't at all voluntary on her part, but it certainly made a sight to behold, bronze and red scales glinting and flashing brightly and suddenly in the torchlight. He spoke to her and that was almost enough to make her storm out of the room. Slimy, creepy, snake creature, an elf of the basest instincts. As he asked her how she had been her lips curled back to snarl silently, baring her diminutive fangs at him brazenly. Even so, he passed on soon enough and Ruin listened to his scheming and over dramatic posturing with partly interest and partly worry.

    Her father had told her the creation myth many times. As a girl it had intrigued her but by now she generally believed that if there were gods in the world then they were ALL cruel and lazy bastards who didn't deserve to be worshipped anyway. They'd done a crap job so far. Erthantis certainly seemed to be winning the battle of peace and destruction, if he had ever existed at all, even if his power was locked away behind a magical barrier. Really Ruin didn't think he needed to worry, it looked to her as though Humanity, Elfkind, Dwarfkind and every other mildly intelligent race would die off all by themselves if you gave them enough time. Time was the rope the gods gave them to hang themselves with basically. But in any case, this plan sounded very very ill advised. No matter how Fingar taunted her with the idea of revenge, ironic since it was his death and the death of all his associates she so longed for, Ruin still felt like this was not a particularly well thought out plan. Could he really guarantee he could control this dark power? Really? Was he absolutely sure? Ruin doubted it, given that it was unlikely the pawns of Erthantis would just give their power to the very thing their creator wanted to destroy. No matter how nice incredible power sounded, it really wasn't worth risking the world and their own lives for.

    Fingar wasn't mad, he was just very very predictable and in Ruin's opinion, rather astoundingly stupid.

    But first the young blonde haired man and then Rin seemed a little too intrigued. ..Really? Ruin gave Rin a very pronounced raised eyebrow and a wide-eyed look of suspended belief. Ahh but, if Rin wanted to try... Ruin was going to have to follow her, she understood her friends motivations at least. She wasn't about to let Rin go into a situation with such a madman without her to back her up if, sorry, WHEN, things went majorly south. But at least she expressed the annoyance Ruin felt. How the hell did Fingar mean to accomplish this world dominating plan of his? Pretty words were nice for the dinner table, but to her disappointment Ruin saw no food. In any case, the probable end to her refusing to go would be a reminder of her sister's captivity, some slimy threatening words and Ruin being blackmailed into the venture anyway. Sigh. She really hated everything about this. Seeing her opinion as obviously in the minority and guessing that even if she gave it she would be ignored, she remained silent, rolling her eyes and giving a derisive snort in her corner before simply crossing her arms and slumping against the wall to wait out the discussion.
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  15. [​IMG]
    {Kathar ~ The Rusty Brew}

    The mention of her name causes peridot eyes to rise to the man sitting at the table, and though it takes a few moments to decipher the words he speaks softly, she gives him a timid smile and a nod. Though she notices that her appearance is less than what the people on the outside of the forest consider proper, but the thought of wearing any more strange fabrics makes her shudder in her corner. Her pale blue lips purse a moment in thought as her dear friend seems to rest his head on her right leg, bright white orbs looking up at her curiously as his nostrils flare with his breath and his body dances in a storm of shimmering lightning. Her pursed lips grow into a gentle smile at her friend, and she rests a hand just above him. He takes the moment to draw once more from her energy, making himself solid so that he can bump his head against her hand affectionately. Leaning down, Dray plants a kiss on the little creature's nose, her own internal babble washing away at the loving show given to her by the only thing that seems real at that moment.

    And it is that moment that there is a tap on the window. Rysear instantly leaps into the air, head snapping to look at the sound, mimicking Dray's reaction of shooting to her feet, eyes trained on the window, teeth bared just slightly in a hiss. When Lukas rises to head over, murmuring to himself, Dray lowers her guard just enough to appear "normal," placing her sword back against the belt that holds the tiny amount of clothing to her waist, though keeping a hand on the hilt. What she sees when the older man opens the window makes her completely forget the thought of a threat, instead raising her curiosity levels. After all, Dray has never seen a dragon of any sort in the forest. For within her home, there are wolves, foxes, and sometimes even great cats...but never dragons. Something within her seems to call her forward, and instantly, she finds herself drawn to the creature. Peridot eyes twinkle with unexplained excitement as she slowly moves closer, entranced with the beauty of the strange beast.

    But that excited curiosity is broken when Lukas speaks. Instantly, Dray is back in her corner, watching with a guarded gaze the entirety of the room's occupants. It is no surprise to her that the man is older...in fact, she can hear it in his voice, his breath, the way his bones seem to creak. She watches him address her once more, and though the gears in her mind work to the point of smoking, it still takes her a few moments to decipher what he says. She deciphers by quietly muttering to herself the difference between his words and hers, going back between languages before finally nodding, slowly making her way to the table and seating herself as far away as the two that somewhat resemble her appearance, prefering instead to take a seat near the head of the beast which now pokes through the window.

    Once more, she must decipher the words, and all of it gets to the point where she must push against her temples to keep the throbbing headache from growing any more. Rysear, now seating himself on the table, begins whispering to her, seemingly able to decipher the language much quicker than Dray. Once she understands, she takes a breath, letting it all sink in. She looks to Nerom, now simply letting Rysear translate the words for her, knowing that she will have to ask him to teach her later. When his glowing crimson gaze comes to rest upon her before flicking to the dragon, and he speaks to them. Not long after, the draon also speaks, and as before Rysear takes the courtesy of translating the common language to that of the Druid. Taking a moment, Dray deciphers her words into that which can be understood by those around her before finally speaking.

    "World needs us. Mm....my people need...me. Shadowlords destroy everything. World calls to battle. Must do what calls. No matter risk."

    She gives a firm nod, peridot eyes looking from the strange elf man to the older man before coming to rest on the dragon. Her eyes sparkle as she looks over his smooth skin and odd appearance...it is then that she decides to introduce herself, though her speaking is rough, to say the least.

    "Dray. My name Dray."​
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  16. [​IMG]

    [Kathar Palace - Throne Room]

    Fingar was a little taken aback at the reaction from the group, but he felt it was to be expected. The speech he gave was probably enough to only just tease their curiosity, and he whole-heartedly agreed with them that more explanation was needed. It surprised him that the blonde haired thief spoke first, though perhaps somewhere in his mind Fingar expected this too. He couldn't help but smile a little, a smile that widened when Alfirineth also piped up with her interest and demands of further information. "Oh but of course," he whispered to the room quietly, the acoustics allowing his voice to be heard all around. He reached inside his robes and removed his hand, clenched tightly around an object. Reaching his arm forward, he released his grip a little and let the object fall. A silver chain could be seen angling from his fingers, and attached to the opposite end was probably the biggest jewel anyone in the room had seen before. Resembling the shape of a diamond, the gemstone was a turquoise blue that reflected the light in stranger ways than any other. It was as if it wasn't reflecting the light at all, but rather giving it out. A blue glow fell upon Fingar's face as he showed the jewellery off to the room, and it gave him an even eerier appearance. "This, is how we're going to bring down those wardings."

    "Now, you might all recognise this. At least, you should. Our beloved Empress wore this all the time, even in her sleep," Fingar hadn't yet stated its name, but he knew that others in the room would place it as the Jewel of Kathar, the pride and joy of the City's riches. The Empress was never seen without it, and there were many rumours amongst the land that the jewel itself held an immense power, never before seen by anyone. "Of course as it is now, it's pretty much useless to us. But, not for long," he gently coiled up the chain again and placed it back in his robes before continuing, "You see, if we can imbue this gem with the power of the Immortals, we can use their own power against them to bring their barriers down. Ironic, isn't it?" His earlier pacing began again while he addressed them all, "And to answer your question Rin, that is what you like to be called isn't it? To answer your question, yes you are required to listen to my words and obey them. Without question. To fuel the gem with the Immortal's power, you must take it to each of their shrines and have it blessed by the priest that cares for it. The only problem is, these nine shrines are scattered around Sythus, some in very hard to reach places. Now, I can't be seen running here there and everywhere myself, people would most certainly start getting suspicious. But if I were to hire four willing accomplices to do that for me, suspicion wouldn't arise and we could pull this off unnoticed."

    He stopped pacing and faced them all with an emotionless face, his eyes meeting theirs one at a time, "
    This isn't going to be an easy task, but I'm sure you all know that. That kind of power doesn't come without a bit of hard work, and this will require a lot of hard work, from all of us. Now, I realise I've only explained how to take down the barrier, though I did mention we could control the Shadowlords. But for me to tell you that, you need to be in a better position of trust. So for now, the sound of that plan will have to do. Of course, you're free to decline my offers of unstoppable power and century long glory if you wish, but after hearing what I've said, don't expect to leave this place with your head still on your shoulders." His smile reappeared as he stepped down from the Throne and walked around the room, approaching Marcella as he did so. "Why so quiet dear?" he raised a hand and caressed her cheek, walking around the back of her and allowing his hand to glide effortlessly across her soft skin, falling down her neck before finally coming to a rest on her shoulder.

    With his arm wrapped around her, he whispered to her but again, his voice could be heard everywhere. "
    Are you not sure if you can trust me? Are you unsure this plan will work? Or...are you trying to think what your lost companion would say to all of this" She knew what he meant, even if nobody else would and Fingar knew his words would surely strike a nerve, "I can bring him back you know. We can bring him back. With the power of the Shadowlords beneath us, even the laws of life would have to obey, and if you were to demand for his soul to be returned to you, it would be done." He released her and stepped away, allowing his words to sink in. His feet took him towards Rin, whom he stared at for a while, tracing the markings below her eyes with his once more, "And dear Alfirineth. You could free your parents from their prison on the Freezing Isle. Nobody would dare try to defy you with all that power coursing through your veins. You and your parents would no longer need to fear those dreaded hunters chasing after you, because in reality, it would be you chasing them. Surely you would prefer that to how you're living now? Fearful, desperate...alone."

    It was clear Fingar was enjoying this, taunting them all with what they could expect were his plan to succeed. He looked over to Ruin, a cruel smile she knew all too well appearing on his face, "And I know what you would want, don't I dear? She's so close to you know, can you feel her? In fact, she's almost directly underfoot. Just a few floors down your sister is surely crying out to you, screaming for you to let her out, to let her be free again. And I know, despite the opinion of my plan, despite that snort you so easily let out, you want that more than anything. Try to tell yourself otherwise, but I know." He finished talking to her and mouthed a final 'I know' before turning his attention to Lujurio, "And you boy. I don't know what you want above all else, but whatever it is, you can surely have it! Anything in this world that you desire can be yours. And nobody could stop you. All it would take, is a simple walk across the land to fetch nine ickle wickle blessings. And then that power will be yours." A dark smile appeared once more as Fingar strode back towards the Throne, turning elegantly and sitting down in a delicate manner, his elbow resting on one side of the Throne, his head supported by his hand while he stared down at them all and waited, once more, for their responses to his words.

    [Kathar - The Rusty Brewer - Upper Floor]

    Lukas sighed and placed a hand to his head, his face scrunched up in pain as words of protest and doubt were shot at him from across the table. Nerom and AuRon both seemed to disagree with him, one doubting their survival, the other wondering how it concerned him. He was pleased, however, that Dray, despite her rough speech, seemed to agree with him. Relaxing his face a little, he smiled kindly at her before addressing the other two. "
    Yes, yes. I understand you think that you three alone would surely not be able to stop this. It is a difficult task, I admit, and I am sorry to have to ask you to take part. But the Empress saw you three fit enough to stand up against them! Surely you would not disrespect her final wishes?" His attention turned fully to AuRon, "And you. How dare you think you be above us all! How dare you say that this does not concern you simply because you are a dragon. Nothing, and I mean nothing, can stop this darkness when it has been unleashed. The strength of you and your kin, combined, would not even make a dent in the force they are capable of producing. Everything will perish, have no doubt about that. Do not think for one moment that because you are a dragon, you will survive this onslaught. if these people succeed, everything will die. of that, I am sure."

    His words were true, and he could only hope the stubborn dragon would listen to him and take them on board. Lukas sighed as AuRon dealt with the menace pulling on his tail, and turned his attention to the other two. "Now, we don't know much about what they have planned, but the Empress was sure it involved the nine shrines of the Immortals. Each of these shrines are scattered across Sythus, and each is protected by a guardian of some kind, and also tended to by a Priest that serves under the respective Immortal. I don't know what they intend to do with these shrines, but perhaps it best we not wait to find out. Unfortunately, I can't tell which shrine they'll go to first, but I'll assume they'll be sent to the nearest one." He reached into his robes and withdrew a roll of parchment, which he swiftly placed on the table and unrolled, revealing a map of Sythus. Drawn on the map were nine red circles, each seemingly representing the location of a shrine. Lukas reached out and tapped the circle closest to Kathar with a wrinkled finger, "This is probably where they will go first, I doubt the first target would be much further away than that. Luckily for us, it's not too far away, concealed in the Whispering Woods. Dray, your knowledge of the woods will come in handy here. The exact location is unknown. All we know is that it's in there somewhere. Have you ever seen it? or do you have an idea where it may be?" His voice was calm and quiet, though his words were rushed and it appeared he was wanting an answer as quickly as he could get one.

    [Kathar - The Rusty Brewer - Upper Floors]

    Nerom couldn't help but scoff and roll his eyes as AuRon spoke. it sounded to him as if he were placing dragons above all other races, and apparently Lukas picked up on that too, for he quickly shot him down with a few words of his own. Trust a dragon to think himself above the rest, he thought to himself with a roll of his eyes before turning his attention away. The Druid, whom he now knew as Dray from Lukas and both her stating it herself, spoke up as Lukas had finished his first speech and it appeared that she was siding with him. As to whether she had given it much thought was unclear, but it seemed that Lukas' speech had swayed her enough to join his side. And though his views had been pessimistic, he was inclined to listen to Lukas further and try to understand what the breaking of the barriers would do. Though he didn't have to wait long for an explanation.

    He listened closely as he spoke of respecting the Empresses' last wish, and Nerom nodded out of respect to show his inclination of support. And after his sharp words to the dragon, Lukas continued to explain what would come of the world if the opposing side were to succeed in their plan. And Nerom didn't like the sound of it, not one bit. To have a force that powerful that it could wipe out anything, everything even, was enough to send shivers down his spine, though he resisted the involuntary movement as best he could, giving him the appearance of fighting a fit for a few fleeting moments. Paying attention to the old man's words once more, he listened intently as Lukas mentioned the nine shrines of the Immortals and how he thought they would be used to somehow aid the other side. Nerom frowned a little, unsure how shrines to the Gods could be turned against them, but he trusted Lukas' word and watched as he unrolled a map on the table, red circles revealing what he assumed were the location of the shrines in question.

    Lukas tapped the one in the Whispering Woods, stating it was here that he thought they would go first, and the elf agreed with a silent nod, knowing that is probably what he would do himself. But he had no knowledge of the Whispering Woods, only that it is a magical place that many magical folk travel to practice their arts. Having never set foot in there, he felt unsure about what they may face after hearing the stories and rumours surrounding the mysterious forest. Lukas addressed Dray, shooting questions towards her almost in a demanding way, expecting her to answer and hope that she would give him some insight into the exact location of the shrine. Nerom shook his head a little as he spoke to the man, "It's all well and good finding these shrines, but what are we going to do when we're there? If we get there before the others, what are we to do? Destroy it? Ward it? And what if we come across the others, what happens if we arrive at the same time, what then? Do we engage in an epic battle to the death, or do we warn them of what their actions will bring about? I think, perhaps, you ought to explain this a little more. Don't you?" He leant back in his chair and folded his arms, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
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  17. [​IMG]
    [Palace Throne Room]

    Fingar had such a terrifying smile. Yet, he insisted on smiling after Lujurio and the woman who had made it there before him spoke. Still, Lujurio couldn't complain, as the High Priest heeded their words after that, and pulled out a glimmering gem, casting a faint blue glow across Fingar's face, making himself look even more erie. Maybe he tried making himself frightening on purpose. But still… The Jewel of Kathar. It was like everything really clicked into place right then, the reason why the Empress had died that night. Well, it did make sense. If someone really needed something, they wouldn't be worried about who they stepped on to get it. It was nice that Fingar had dreams.

    Though, as Lujurio listened intently to Fingar's explanation, it occurred to him that this was less a dream, but a carefully planned scheme, which may even work, if everything Fingar said was true. To get the jewel blessed by nine priests, even if some of the shrines were difficult to reach, didn't seem particularly difficult. Perhaps it was rather annoying that Fingar had brought them here to make them do that. But if it just seemed so simple, Lujurio saw no reason not to do as Fingar said, especially if it had such a great reward. Of course, there was still what they needed to do after the barriers came down, but surely they could manage it, at the very least. It couldn't be too difficult. Lujurio was, quite honestly, already convinced to follow Fingar. The High Priest was certainly quite good at being convincing, although, considering how Lujurio rarely encountered well-spoken people, his opinion was faulty. He could probably be easily convinced by anyone who could spin words together in an eloquent sentence. Others may not have be like that. Although, Lujurio didn't see how anyone would be able to decline his offer, with the casual threat he had thrown at the end of his words.

    Perhaps Fingar thought that as well. Once he had finished speaking, a smile spread on his face once more, and he left the throne, walking around the room with a sort of casual power. It wasn't difficult to imagine him owning the throne room, the palace, and the entire land of Sythus. He just had that sort of air. He stopped in front of the noble girl, Marcella Bychan. It was so odd to watch, as Fingar gently caressed her cheek, before his hand trailed down to her shoulders. It seemed a bit too personal to watch---and also too personal for Fingar to do, he didn't seem close enough to the woman to touch her like that.

    With his hands on her shoulder, Fingar spoke, his soft voice carrying with a sort of power you wouldn't expect in a whisper. He spoke first to Marcella, then to the woman with the strange markings---Rin, or Alfirineth, as Fingar had called her. Then he spoke to the dragon woman. A dead companion… Parents in hiding… Someone trapped somewhere below them… It appeared Fingar had a key to convince each of the females to work with him. It was nothing short of blackmail and bribery, but it was amazing that the High Priest had managed to gather that information of those three people. Undoubtedly, he couldn't have done it himself---he said it himself that if he were run around, following them, people would be suspicious---but it was still amazing.

    Lujurio was the last one he turned to. 'I don't know what you want…' Lujurio nearly laughed at that, but he settled for a fleeting smile, one of barely contained mirth. He didn't know. Granted, Lujurio didn't quite know either. At least, after hearing what the others wanted, he felt like he should want something more. But really, he wanted what most civilians wanted; power, money, and respect. He'd probably make up a story if asked, but that's all he wanted, to get those three things on his own. But to be honest, he didn't care too much about those things either. Not everyone needed a reason to do things. Ot at least, they didn't need to want things. Lujurio just found Erthantis to be right, that's all.

    Lujurio looked to Fingar, who had by then taken his place back on the thrown, his head rested on his hand as he awaited their answers. He was sitting so casually, like he had been sitting there his whole life, it was already getting difficult to imagine anyone but him sitting in that throne. Lujurio had already seen his way of ruling. It may not be the best way if you wanted to be liked, but it worked. And Fingar definitely knew how to get his information, it seemed. So, couldn't Lujurio trust that what he was saying was true?

    “I'll do it,” Lujurio said. Three simple words. Someone had to say them first, although Lujurio wasn't usually that person. Perhaps it was odd for him to be the first, as Fingar didn't have as strong a reason for him to join him as he did for the females. There were lower stakes for him, though him being killed if he decided to leave wasn't a particularly low stake. Still, you'd expect another person to speak first. But sometimes, being completely willing helped you make decisions faster than being threatened or bribed.

    It was once he had said those few words that Lujurio turned his gaze frown Fingar to the three women, waiting for the next person who would step up and agree. Or disagree, if they were truly against what the High Priest had said. Lujurio didn't think anyone would be so against it, though. Fingar had probably specifically chosen those who he thought would do as he said.

    Lujurio was aware that there would definitely be dangers, dangers which Fingar had either glossed over or didn't know of. But Lujurio could deal with that. Even if the women refused Fingar's offer, surely Lujurio could deal with it. Or, at the very least, he would be able to go through it with a straight face, hiding any problems he might go through. It was what he did best, after all.​
    #17 Nougat, Apr 27, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 30, 2014
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  18. [​IMG]

    ((Alfirineth >> Palace throne room))

    Alfirineth listened carefully as the High priest spoke finally about the details of his plan. However, her eyes were first of all locked on something the late empress wore once before, the jewel once meaning something now seemed dull when held by Fingar of all people. Minor but there, she began to feel pity swell up inside as she seemed to no longer want to face the idea that Fingar had somehow found a way to take away the woman's life. If it was him then he had the ability to remove the most protected person in the kingdom, an ability that caused her to shudder slightly. One should never gain power of that level since it always resulted in corruption. Then again, that was just her observation.

    The fact that she could not leave alive without agreeing with the twisted priest caused a small twitch to appear by her brow as she settled her hands upon her hips, shifting her weight till she leaned upon the opposite foot. Red eyes were careless as they narrowed in a glare at the man who had effectively made them apart of his scheme. She had to admit to herself that a small spark of respect had grown for the priest during the last few moments. He had decided what he wanted and was achieving that, ignoring the fact Rin felt as if she was only a tool which was probably correct. That irritated her to no end but she wasn't going to speak up about that suppressed annoyance with the situation he had placed her in because she did want to keep her head after all.

    Rin finally had her question answered so she nodded back in reply. If his promise was real she would not mind being co-operative for a while. Gently she reached up to remove a few white, slightly blonde locks from her line of vision as she tried to stifle a yawn that passed her lips in the process. Her hand was pressed against her lips as eyes closed for a brief moment, hands dropping back to her side as once again her body language could do nothing but express pure caution towards the reason of this grouping. "I understand." She murmured in response, no other work leaving her lips as she watched as the priest seemed to go to Marcella. It was his words that made her curious to what he was going on about. Unconsciously she raised a brow to the absurd sight, a small hum of curiousity following as her thoughts turned to that for a moment.

    Then it was her turn.

    As the priest approached she did nothing, no movement other than the fall and rise of her torso as she watched him carefully. He stopped and she in return began to shift her weight to the other foot, a brow raised. "So, what have you got on me priest?" She asked, her lips pursed as she awaited her words. However, there was no way she expected him to say what he said. More importantly was the fact he knew! Her eyes were open wide as she continued to stare in disbelief at the male before a snarl appeared on her lips. "How do you know about that Fingar?" She asked, trying to cease the tension that built up in her jaws as it began to bring a dull pain to her teeth. "I have kept that hidden for years, since I left them a long time ago! how do you know?"

    Eventually she had to sigh, shifting her arms so they were wrapped around her waist. Rin had to ignore the fact he knew because he admitted to the truth. Alone, fearful and desperate. She awaited quietly until he was done with his persuasion of each person in the room before she melted into that careful silence. Rin did however take note of what he said to Ruin, specially with the half dragon being such a dear friend to Rin. The young man, the only male other than Fingar spoke, agreeing to this plan before Rin glanced around at Ruin and Marcella. Her parents had been something she desired to protect and with this route she could do so and they could retire from the fear and in a way so could she.

    With a slight step forwards the dark elf stared upon the Priest's red eye's with her own. "I will participate in your plan as well." She added. There was a pause between her words before she brushed some of the hair from her face, fingers brushing against the black markings upon her skin. "While there is no choice since you have made it clear what will happen if we decline...I would have agreed anyway." Rin pointed out before letting a small smile appear upon her lips. "Plus it seems fun~" She chimed, cheering up as she regained a control over her emotions. "I do want to know how you know about my parents and their presence of the Isle though..."
    #18 Aka~Kitsune, Apr 28, 2014
    Last edited: Apr 28, 2014
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  19. [​IMG]

    Marcella Bychan

    | Kathar; The palace – Throne Room |

    Ever so smoothly Fingar went over to the explanation, as if he had been expecting the question to come, taking his elaborated time to give them the greatest dramatic impact. Common, for high ranked nobles loved their attention and the longer they could attain it the more it boasted their ego’s. Again Marcella would have rolled her eyes wasn’t it for the manners she had to maintain and her background. She had already lost count on how many times she had wanted to do so, but had to hold back that urge in order not to completely blow off her position as a ‘trusted’ companion. After all the reason why she had been chosen from all of her relatives was unclear, but assumed was that she had somehow caught his attention and his trust for this plan to succeed.

    However the moment that Fingar pulled out the Jewel of Kathar the young woman held in her breath, her eyes widened in surprise when she realized what kind of stone it was. Her chocolate brown hues fixated themselves on the blue light that it emitted as she cocked her chin up. She wondered how Fingar could have possibly come into possession of the stone. Could it be that he was placed in charge in place of the empress? It made sense for there was no heir announced and the throne couldn’t be left empty, but the thought that the right hand of the empress was to rule by proxy bothered her. This man, Fingar was not what he had appeared in his role as a High priest was what she had realized in the small amount of time that they had been standing here, supposedly to be mourning over the death of their beloved sovereign.

    Gulping a little Marcella casted her eyes over to the other three, her shoulders tense as she was checking out their expressions, wondering what they were thinking. The gem, the Jewel of Kathar, did they realize what meaning it held? She supposed that they must have heard of it and know of the stories, however for Marcella the story was completely different, for she believed that every stone, every gem contained some sort of power, after all she was a human mage who relied on it as her sources. The stone that Fingar held with its glowing light, without doubt could she feel the power of control within her reach, but yet she didn’t outstretch her hand to touch the surface of the gem, refusing to give into this power that Fingar had offered. Not yet at least. Though she knew she had no choice, specially after the High priest revealed the consequence if she were to refuse. Thoughts mulled over inside of her mind, waging out whether losing her head was worth refusing or that she was better off cooperating. She felt reluctant, but the gem had enchanted her with its mysterious power.

    Flinching a little when Fingar placed his hand against her cheek the female tried to turn her head away as gracefully as she could. She didn’t want to be touched and specially not as intimate as the gesture of the High priest could be taken. He was too close, stroking her cheek before he finally let his arm fall over her shoulder, the weigh bringing down a feeling of disgust over the female as she cocked her chin up a little to face the man in his eyes, showing that she wasn’t afraid of him nor intimidated. A Bychan didn’t show their weakness, but would never hide their disapproval and that exactly was what she was doing as she locked eyes with him while he was standing next to her so closely, whispering about her past lover as she knew that she was only playing with her emotions that missed him. “That stone.” She started, calm and composed, but her voice ever so soft as a whisper, however at this moment she knew that he would clearly hear her, standing so closely. “Can I trust upon your word as the High priest of Sythus that you’ve no ill intention towards the beloved country our late empress has left behind?” she asked. She had to make sure, she knew she couldn’t take upon his word that Fingar was telling the truth, but she knew that if he were to lie that soon enough he could be exposed and if he was then he would shame his position. She had to make him swear upon his pride somehow, perhaps that she could make him swallow his words. However at the moment he had the upper-hand whereas she was dangling like a puppet constricted to its own strings.

    It had seemed that almost everyone inside of the room had something to fight for, a reason why Fingar could manipulate them to their use. For Marcella it was her lost love, for Alfirineth her parents and for Ruin a sibling who was locked up. It fumed Marcella how easily Fingar seemed to speak these cruel words in front of everyone, not sparing the humiliation that may come with the story or how unfair the situation was that they held no other choice but to obey. The only one who didn’t seem to have anything to taunt with was the blonde male, it seemed that only he and he alone was here for his own selfish intentions and that made the noble only the more annoyed. However she was none to speak for her ranks hadn’t exactly gained a reputation of altruism.

    Though that what annoyed her the most, that what made her take a step forward and brought fire into her usual calm eyes was the fact that Fingar had taken place on the Throne, the symbol of their queen as she breathed in deeply to her, trying not to waver her voice now at this moment. “How arrogant of you to take place on the Throne even before you’ve formally received the proxy to rule over Sythus.” Marcella spoke, her voice laced with poison, but not differing much from what she usually had been like. Flicking her head up to the man again Marcella rose her back straight again, determination and confidence mixed up together, causing her usually fragile appearance to appear much bolder and stronger as she wasn’t planning on having herself bow down by a few threats. “However we weren’t here to speak of formalities anyway.” She said spitefully, a bitter smile crossing her face as she narrowed her eyes a little. “Your way of convincing us is rather boring, little choices and uninteresting, I suppose I don’t have much of an answer if I value my head.” she decided, not wanting to show or to please Fingar with the fact that the idea of bringing her loved one back did allure her. Oh, how did she miss him but she was never to share that if the High priest was going to use him as a wager to convince her into joining, she would never let the right hand of the empress slander the name of her beloved like that. “You’ve my word as a member of the Bychan family and as a council member that I shall assist you in your plans if this promises to be for the better of the country.” Marcella concluded, placing her hand over where her heart was supposed to be, wondering if this could be counted in as a betrayal as well if she did this all for the greater good of the country. Would she still be betraying her own believes if she believed that she could avoid an even bigger fight by joining the side of the High priest? She had no idea, but she did know that her heart was racing at the thought that they were about to control the darkness.​
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  20. [​IMG]
    {Kathar ~ The Rusty Brew}

    The courage that the older man shows towards the dragon intruiges Dray, and she watches curiously as he scolds the proud creature as if he were a small child with no respect for his elders. Because of how quickly the man is talking, Rysear has once more filled in the position of translator so that Dray can reserve her strength for deciphering what she wishes to say. The little, dragon-like creature talks at a speed that is almost hard for her to understand, even in her language...but with how quickly Lukas is talking, it is only right that it would be such a mouthful for the language of a primitive race. She watches for the dragon's reaction, and when there isn't one just yet, she focuses her eyes on Lukas, who begins tpeaking to her and the elf-like man.

    When "shrines" is translated to her, Dray furrows her brow, her mind's eye picturing the old stone covered in the greenery of the forest, as if the forest, itself was protecting it. It always glowed like a star, and no matter where the tribe was in the Whispering Wood, they knew where it was, not only able to see it, but also able to sense it with their hearts and souls. After all, a Druid is a part of the forest, and the forest is the Guardian of the shrine. Both literally and figuratively.

    The removal of the map pulls Dray from the beautiful picture of the timeless stone and the feeling she would get when she was near. Her bright gaze came to settle upon the map, recognizing the wood only by the shape on the map, knowing in every which way possible what her home looks like, both inside and out. The Whispering Wood was never a large forest, but it was home...home enough to where no others were ever allowed inside unless their intentions were to simply go through. Even then, the Druid would leave the fate of such silly travellers in the hands of the forest and its guardians. Sometimes, the Great Forest Spirit would spare them...other times, not so much. But were she to take these creatures into her home, would they be protected? Her people may not be happy that her mission to the world involves bringing strangers into such sacred ground. Even when her heart would soar at the sight of the shrine, not even she was allowed within. It is forbidden to enter the holiest of places without the blessing of the World, and Dray fears that she does not have such a blessing just yet.

    Rysear's translation and Lukas's use of her name makes her head snap up from the sight of the map, and she takes a deep breath, pondering over the warring emotions that play out within her. Does she take them and risk the loss of her tribe, her people, and her home? Or does she leave them stranded and risk the destruction of the world?

    A tear forms beneath her left eye. Dray has never cried before. Not in her life. And this is no time to start now. Furiously wiping it away, she sets her jaw and nods solemnly.

    "I know where. We go...but be wary. Intruders...not welcome. World no blessing."

    She looks to the elf man then as Rysear translates the words to her. Though he has addressed Lukas, she answers for him, glaring slightly. "We do what we must." This sentence is clear and seems to hold an air of powerful finality to it. After all, she is risking everything, and he nothing more than his life. A part of her wishes he would just leave...if he is so against this, then perhaps that is for the best. But the wind slithers through the cracks in the window and through the walls, caressing her cheek, calming her anger towards the strange, gray man. The World tells her that this is right. That she must not be afraid. That the elf must go.

    But Dray does not like the elf man...no matter what the World tells her. She turns away from him, looking briefly at the dragon before her gaze settles on Lukas. "We go now."​
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