Madness and the Inquisitor [Medieval Fantasy RP; IC; Open]

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Tue Oct 06, 2015 2:38 pm

House Whiteford,
Alu'kayna Starsinger.

Quietly her eyes shifted across the small crowd, quietly taking mental notes about each and everyone of them. She hadn't failed to notice the young elf's gaze reaching her, and chose to lower her cowl as to make her whole face that much clearer, her eyes shimmering in the light, her scar a more raw red now that it had been exposed to the light, she stepped forth, scanning the statue once more before interjecting in the conversation, "In a city such as this, elfling, can you really believe the sacrifices of those long passed or of elves to be remembered? These.. People.. Care little for history or your legacies, they care only for today and tomorrow - how to place food upon their table-tops. The only permanency to them is death." She turned her gaze to the two elves, her lips shifting slightly - though it was difficult to tell if she was smirking or just making a face. Quietly she brushed a gloved index and middle finger along the stone base of the statue, "I'm surprised you weren't wise enough to understand that the gratitude of Monarchs lasts only as long as their memory. Which isn't particularly long.." She reaches into her robes, removing a single blackish coin, a raven adorning it's surface, she extends it to the elf, "Consider this a sign of my own gratitude - for your display of public service."

by **Breitenfeld-Sibbesborg** » Tue Oct 06, 2015 5:07 pm

Gwenyth

In truth, Gwenyth hadn't put very much thought into what she might propose to Lord Whiteford. She had been trained in diplomacy, but most of that training involved responding to proposals and propositions, and not forming them. She was quite nervous, but this would likely not show on the outside, as Gwenyth had learned long ago how to hold a poker face. After only a few moments of silence, Gwenyth had a response for Josack. "To kill me outside of your home would probably make more than a few people in this city rest easy. Perhaps it would be quite good for your publicity." Gwenyth knew that Josack might actually attempt to kill her, but the half-elf was prepared. She matched the smirk shown by Josack, trying to assert her place in the proceedings. "Lady Anna Ravensgard wishes to propose a peace between House Ravensgard and House Whiteford, preferably through the signing of mutual beneficence. If you are not aware of this term, I can make it simple." She wasn't sure whether that would offend Josack or not, but it was not intended as an insult. It was intended so that Gwenyth could better understand what she was proposing as she said it. "This means that House Ravensgard would work to benefit House Whiteford, and House Whiteford would work to benefit House Ravensgard. Essentially, I propose that our houses work together in order to achieve dominance in the Red Marches." Gwenyth was somewhat confused by what she'd said, but she would stand by it.

by **Servinta** » Tue Oct 06, 2015 7:24 pm

Having left the Lord Inquisitor to his ways in the bed chamber with two pretty maidens, Gavin looked forward to leaving the Caer Maron keep and leaving its oppressive atmosphere behind him.The Justicars and their Sargent-at-Arms were left to their own devices as well, but they were probably feeling less than pleased as Arron was as the queezy Inquisitional henchmen were stuck cordoning off the throne section of the massive room waiting for the apothecary to safely remove the body of the unfortunate merchant.All in all Gavin felt he had handled the situation well and as usual asserted his authority in the absence of Sir Lavellan's recognized leadership.

Exiting the hall from the double doors that lead to the smaller quarters for various chapels of the many faiths that existed in the region and oratories where large conclaves of Inquisitors could be held to discuss major events that concerned the Inquisition enough to recall every member from the field.But along with these more important rooms there was a small spread of offices and library's that were used by the inquisition to recive, catalog, store, and if needed distribute information to those with the authority to seek it.

One of these rooms was the Head office of the Inquisition, Ser Lavellan the Inquisitions leader doubled as its Steward along with the help of a dozen or so scribes and servants at his beck and call filing scrolls in the next room.Despite being well known for his martial prowess and unmatched combat, Lavellan was usually stuck in his head office attending to messages and could dispatch both men and material to wherever they were needed.It was the curse of command that he bore and with his poor stewardship he was rumored to quite often dump the workload onto his underlings and return to his bedchamber with a woman for unspecified amounts of time.

The rumor was one of Gavin's own design and had been spread like wildfire by a causal conversation with one of the Justicars, weather it was actually true didn't matter much as Gavin cared only that it weaken Lavellans reputation as a effective leader so that it would be so much easier to take control.It was more than likely true and with the already known womanizer beign his normal self it would be sufficient enough to say it was fact.

But as Gavin passed by the Head Office he noticed a female that was a bit 'short' of what Lavellan's usual tastes were and yet probably too much trouble for the man to handle.Glinda was the she-dwarf that so proudly touted her 'dwarven honor' and her treasured beard with the sort of pomp and fan-fare that one would expect out of a woman.But she was not as easy to trick as the ditsy girls, wasn't as beautiful either by most men's and Gavin's own standards but was apparently quite a catch for any dwarf who could handle her.She was also quite dedicated to the job like any dwarf would be and therefore had Gavin's respect but not his trust as it was those types that were quite loyal to Lavellan.She seemed to be waiting patently for an assignment and was likely going to be waiting for a while as Lavellan was busy with the two other women.

"You might as well get comfortable, Ser Lavellan is currently preoccupied by two very 'pressing' matters in his chambers after this mornings little impromptu execution." He said, slowing down to see if she would get the innuendo he had been hinting at.She may have been almost blindly loyal but she wasn't deaf and had probably heard the rumors that spread around this place.

by **Vapora** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 1:03 am

Imperial Valaran wrote:
The Indebted

The men stepped forwards, and Keldan realised their intent: they were aiming for him. He looked at them again. Apprehension makes the mind take in more, the faint traces of scar tissue, the knotted clumps of muscle hiding under a shirt, the needling glances the men had as they walked over to him. And those hands, swaying near knife hilts.

The leader spoke. "A moment of your time, if you'd kindly oblige." Obliging didn't seem optional.

He stepped forwards, and his companions came in behind him. Keldan looked at both, and then realised the leader was still staring at him. They expected a reply, the pointless courtesy that it was. "Of course," Keldan fumbled.

"This way." The two men came forwards, each taking one of his arms. Keldan fought down the rising fear, and walked with them, keeping his pace as similar as he could manage. They stepped into a pub, one labelled as The Woodpecker Inn. A lively place this, even given the early hour. Most of its denizens studiously ignored the arrivals, and the conversation barely faltered. The men led Keldan straight through the throng to a closed door. Keldan didn't take much of it in, the apprehension still holding him tightly. He made to open the door. The first man held out his hand. "We'll need to check you first."

Keldan raised "How much do you need to search?"

"Well..." The man looked down at his boots, the satchel hanging from one shoulder, the loose shirt and trousers. "Maybe we cou-"

"Master Keldan isn't here to assassinate me. Get him over here." A far-too-friendly voice cut through, muffled by the wooden obstruction. The man gave a sharp look back before indicating Keldan forwards. This was it. The young sorcerer, breathed once, and then entered the lion's den.

A room awaited him, stuffy and well-lit. And filled with people.

Heskr in the center. A brown haired woman at his side, young, and with grey eyes. She looked disinterested, casually resting her legs on the table. A taller man, standing behind, with thinning hair and high cheekbones. The best dressed out of all of them, he disdained to glance to at the new arrival. A few others; Heskyr's hulking bodyguard Chovrik; his pet mage Methone, a small man, with flame coloured hair. He scowled at Keldan. Already making friends, it seems. His friends from the street went to stand with them, leaving half of the room to Keldan's slim form. Alone, he looked at the gathered crowd.

And their leader, sitting happily in the center. A thick grey moustache trailed into scratchings of silver stubble, all lit by a laugh-lined face. Heskr's expressions changed like the wind. Jovial one moment, and outraged the next, all the facets of his murky existence colliding into each other on that protean canvas. His professions were just as varied: Heskr was many things, to many men. To Keldan, he was a loanshark.

"I hear you've graduated. My esteemed congratulations on your ascension to the ranks of mages." Heksr articulated himself with suprisingly small hands, dwarfed by the stuffed folds of cloth they sprung from.

"Thank you." Silence. The flutter of trepidation rose again. "The sales of some of my student stock should pay for this month's instalment."

"Good to hear. But I was hoping you'd soon be of more value to me."

What did he mean?, Keldan thought. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Being a master of the arcane arts, I think we could now up the interest. After all, your value has increased."

"You want me to pay more?"

"Precisely my boy! Unless you'd rather cancel our little contract?" His eyes glimmered with a distinctly malicious interest. Keldan resisted looking at Chovrik. This exchange was turning dangerously unequal - actually no, it had always been that, it was simply Keldan hadn't picked up on it.

"uh, no. I'll do what I can." He heard the pitiful tenor of resignation in his voice.

"Just so. Now, you're probably going to need some form of employment then, for this-"

"Yes." Keldan interrupted him, almost eager to reassure his creditor. "I was planning to look for patronage, perhaps at the university, or one of the noble houses."

"Good, good. Though," Keldan looked at the faces in front of him, "I would be honoured if you'd join my little coterie. I could always use your talents, and you wouldn't need to worry about selling your equipment. Actually, my boy, with Heskr's seal of approval, you wouldn't need to worry about much at all!"

And it clicked into place. No wonder Methone was scowling at him, the mage didn't want to compete with Keldan for his job. But all the same, it was a trap. He'd be caught in his obligation to Heskr, and he didn't think there was much honourable work the enforcer wanted him for. He'd never escape this debt. Besides, he'd always imagined he could do more than simply be caught up in the swell of someone like Heskr. "I..." This needed to be phrased carefully. Gangsters didn't take rejections well. "I'd prefer to pay you back with my own coin. I'm hardly worth employing for... any kind of work you might need a mage for."

Heskr looked crestfallen. "No? Oh, that's a shame then. It'll be sad for you to miss the fun we're having." A row of stone gazes stared back at Keldan. Heskr smiled. "You best be off then, lad. After all, you have a job to find."

And like that, it was over. Keldan had never felt so relieved to be discarded. He made to leave. "I'll still be expecting the extra dues!" Heskr called as he slipped out of the door, to the false freedom that awaited him.

The Outcast

Elana gazed cooly as the mage walked out. She turned to Heskr. "That was him?"

"Oh yes. Nice lad, that one." He eyed Elana. "Not nearly as useful as you. Or Methone here."

She gave a cool stare. "He certainly lacks my feminine wiles."

"hah, exactly!"

"Or your pointed tongue, no doubt." Methone added. He hadn't lost the scowl. She ignored him.

"Now now, Methone." Heskr grinned, clearly enjoying a spot of rivalry. He looked for all the world like an uncle, jovial, boisterous and slightly mischievous. His eyes twinkled, the only constant on that face.

The tall man coughed. "Are we done here?" He spoke for the first time, an impatient gaze levelled directly at the gangster.

And like that, the tension flowed back into the room. Heskr's face grew serious, though the twinkle never fully left his eyes. "Ah yes." Heskr looked at Elana. "Time for you to be off as well, my dear." The voice had a curtness of command.

Finally. She uncrossed her legs from the table, and sauntered off. Methone's glare, permanently etched onto his face (she thought), followed her out of the room, but even that couldn't dent the relief she felt to be away from that stuffy room, and the danger it contained.

Elana made a beeline for the bar, hoping to squeeze some brief flicker of enjoyment from what would undoubtedly be a dismal day. "Roland, a bottle of cider if you please." She slid the coins over the counter, but her head had already turned. Her eyes roved, first to the door, and then around the room. Surprisingly enough, no assassins jumped at her; the shadows remained insubstantial. But that didn't stop her wariness. Instead, she noted the various figures, and her gaze lingered on two men playing chess. She took an idle interest in that game, and the coins being passed across the table. It seemed Heskr wasn't the only one to conduct business here.

The Woodpecker Inn, Day One, 10:20

The deal has gone well. 160 guilders were enough to make a living for a week, and he never regretted starting the deal with Alton. The glorious and majestic empire that used to be known by every races no longer existed; the benevolent emperor ‘Ruret la grande’; the days where all the people would praise the royal family; the hoards of treasure that were enough to fill every last chasm of the mineshafts to the east; all the glories, the legends, the wealth, the land……it was gone, no one knowing exactly how and when it disappeared, but all that remained were fairy tales told to the youngest of childs, feasts and their typical bribery from the corrupt nobles, and people from unknown corners of the Red Marches trying for a grab at the throne. House Ruret was already on its downfall, and Ardwind was no longer a kingdom: it was money and landlords which continued to rule over the people.
“All hail the king……” Eugene muttered, feeling a bit light-headed as the cider got to him. He tapped the wooden table with his boots, trying to shoo the boredom that got into him after Alton had left. The urge to leave Ardwind was getting stronger than ever, and he knew that if he didn’t take the chance, his life would never get exciting. He thought about Alton’s offer, and he knew that this was it.

20 minutes earlier

After he heard a creaking noise in front of him, Eugene looked up to find a brown-haired young man enter the pub, and some gangsters searching the naïve-looking lad’s pockets. Usually he wouldn’t care, as local gangs knew never to mess with the fedora-wearing moustache guy. Today was another story. Eugene was an able man, and he was able to recognize that these ones were involved with someone powerful. Of course, commoners eventually develop that sense of power, during their hopeless struggle for survival. In this case, like they always do, Eugene got it right.
“I hear you’ve graduated. My esteemed congratulations on your ascension to the ranks of mages.”
Mages.
Magic was something that commoners both feared and revered at the same time. Sure, he himself too was known as a wizard, but that was a different thing altogether. He liked to call his magic science.
The beginning was all too simple. Alton had asked him to clean some amber for a nobleman, and later Eugene found that a piece of his paper seemed to attatch to the amber. After buying some books with his guilders, he learned many more things like the substance called alcohol in his cider. His experiments have gained fame among the frequent visitors of the Woodpecker. Folly people they were. He was researching what shallow secrets he could uncover within his short life.
But this was real. Masters of arcane arts, fabled to be capable of demolishing a village with a single swipe of their hands. And one of them was being threatened, right in front of Eugene’s eyes.
“I……I’d prefer to pay you back with my own coin. I’m hardly worth employing for……any kind of work you might need a mage for.”
Not a common sight.

back to the present

Yes. Alton said that he would need a mercenary to protect him from bandits, and he offered the job to Eugene.

10 minutes ago

“Besides, 40 guilder for a day’s a good deal.” Alton left a remark. “We’re doing trade business, and we make tons of money out of it, but most of ‘em are only willing to pay, say, 20 or something.”
“I need one more. Bring me a mercenary, skilled or no, and I’ll take you out to the real world, Eugene. It’s a shame that a guy like you; skilled, clever, wise, and an amazing diplomat, it’s guys like you, mate, capable and ambitious, who can truly change the world into something a lil’ better than today. I truly appreciate that, and I wanna give ya an opportunity.
“But first I need my own safety, man, and a guy who has real knowledge about this bullsh*t going on in these lands. Noble affairs are very complicated, and none of us knows noble affairs better than a mouse. It’s your time to shine; if you find the right guy for the right job, or at least if you feel like it, bring him to the bank 3 blocks away. I’ll be waiting there, next to Ms. Foxglove.
“You’re a genius, Eugene. You can save us from the plague and I know it.”
Eugene was a bit flattered by this, but he was still nervous about the whole idea of having and adventure. But then, Alton said a thing and he made up his mind.
“Ya know what I said about being a ‘House Birchwood’?”
“Yeah?”
“Carve in your legacy.”

Back to the present.

And the mage lad, it seemed, was looking for employment.
Excellent.
Eugene burst out of the bar, his beloved apple cider still in his hand, and looked for the brown-haired young mage. He apparently didn’t make it far, and Eugene saw him next to the bank. He hurriedly paced to the man, tried his best to hide his excited voice, and tapped the mage lad on his right shoulder. The mage turned around, and looked quite puzzled by the sudden appearance of Eugene.
“So, I heard you were looking for a good job to roll with?”

by **Zombie Fascists** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 5:33 am

Olthar wrote:When the girl moved behind the statue, Valeria could finally see her. She was young, ten or twelve at most, and she seemed to be frightened by the crowd. The elf didn't much care and simply ignored her.

The woman continued speaking and made a comment about how everyone dies. A slight frown appeared on Valeria's face. The naïve child clearly didn't understand what Valeria had actually said, nor was she clever enough to decipher the truth behind the words as evidenced by her followup question.

Taking a step back from the monument, Valeria examined it for a moment. It still looked like crap, always did, really. Still, at least the graffiti was gone. Tossing the rag towards the well, it smacked against the stonework and lay drapped over the edge. She then turned to view her audience.

Shooting a quick glance at the person who had arrived by carriage, Valeria looked her over. She was a mage, no doubt. That hauty, superior look was one that only magic wielders carried. Who she was and what she wanted were different questions that the elf had no answers for. Still, Valeria didn't like her presence and remained on guard in case of sudden hostilities.

Looking over towards the one who'd asked the questions, Valeria quickly identified her as another elf, though one who was very young and new to the world. Valeria became more disappointed in her. A human's short memory she could understand, but to be an elf and still be so ignorant? Her age was no excuse. Her parents were guaranteed to have been alive 100 years ago.

"My name is Valeria Silvermoon," she answered bluntly, tired of the word games, "I am one of the original members of the Sword and Board Company, the adventures who were honored by the city 100 years ago fer destroying the Cult of the Crimson Moon, a cabal of necromancers who sought to overrun the city with undead. We were given this statue that time has ruined, a holiday that the people have fergotten, and a hollow promise of everlasting gratitude that the royal family has ignored. That is who I am."

Valeria''s words surprised Ilvira Thїndriell, to say the least. Her mother had told her the stories about the heroes of the Sword and Board Company when she still had some health, but that was over fifteen years ago. Ilvira had thought they were all dead, and her uncle had made no effort to educate her in that matter or any other. And how could heroes still live, when there was no good left in this world? Still, the young elven woman felt bad, almost ashamed, about her ignorance, even if it was in no way her fault. She could now clearly see the similarity between the once again clean statue and the woman below that it pictured among with her comrades.

Ilvira wasn't sure on how to react to the dark lady. She made her feel uneasy, but hadn't done anything to suspicious, at least not yet... but what was it with that coin? For now though, there wasn't anything she could do about it.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to disrespect you or your comrades..." she said to Valeria. "This woman is right. The people of Ardwind of today - especially here in the slums - are too busy trying to survive each day, to not end up with a slit throat in a back alley... it's an awful age." She lowered her hood from her head. "My name is Ilvira Thїndriell."

Runtastic account · by **Al-Orthodoxia** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 11:03 am

Rurik Aulusovich

The night was long and warm with the maid at Rurik's side. He stretched his arms and legs and woke up slowly. The maid was still asleep, maybe with some discreetness he could steal some of her money. He leaned over her quietly, tried to get her purse and...she grabbed Rurik at his throat. He felt on his back and the maid tried to hit him with a wooden plank, which laid on the head of the bank. He took the hit but kicked the maid at her head, she became unconciouss, and Rurik left the tavern. Twenty-one Florijn, he counted.

''Enough to get some food for today'' and he continued his dark, sinister, journey towards the local inn.

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 12:07 pm

House Whiteford,
Josack & Elizabeth.

Quietly, Josack listened to everything that the woman had to say and as she concluded he arched a brow, scrunching his face up a bit, seemingly amused, "I know what it means and I figured as much when you mentioned an alliance. What I meant to hear from you, were specifics. I've no time for vagueness. I want to know exactly what your masters expect of me and what I should expect from them. Then I either accept or deny the terms, should the latter be my choice, then negotiations continue or I send one of your body parts back to your masters; of course that all depends on how horrid the terms are. Though, you seem like a smart girl, so I don't imagine it'll come to that." He turns towards the gates of the manor, setting off before the girl can speak up, "Come." The guards immediately parted the gates and allowed for the group to enter, the first things that they'd set eyes upon being Sir Gregory's Plated chest and claymore, his hands rested upon its pommel, holding it upright.

Without a word Josack would pass him, Gregory hastily turning and following up behind him. Elizabeth however, would let Gwenyth enter first, choosing instead to follow her from behind - meaning she'd in essence, be completely encircled by Whiteford forces. With Gregory now out of the way, and no longer serving as such an extreme distraction, Gwenyth would have a better view of the estate as a whole - large lush green lawns resided either side of a long granite drive-way, which split into two arching roads, forming a circle around a large glistening white water fountain. Beyond that, the roads continued to diverge - heading up either side of a large water feature, before unifying at the front of the manor itself, it's quite clear that the Whitefords know how to live in luxury. Surrounding the manor, at the base of the hill, were numerous other smaller structures, ranging from fortification-esque ones such as guard barracks', to simple servants quarters, there was even a small granary. It was a gated community in of itself, designed for the Whitefords and their affiliates, whether this was to keep an eye on them or to ensure their protection remains to be seen. The place was a bustling hive of activity, carriages came and went from the various centers and numerous individuals who were clearly businessmen seemed to be dotted around the ground, exchanging words with affiliates and or simply lazing around (In essence, the manor is to them what a Head Quarters is to a major corporation, a place where their most important affiliates, etc come and go from. They'd have another, CONSIDERABLY smaller estate elsewhere).

by **Olthar** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 12:33 pm

Valeria eyed the mage woman suspiciously. What was she playing at? Was she trying to hire Valeria? This was an odd way of doing that? Was she trying to get Valeria to lower her guard so the elf could be captured and sacrificed? That seemed absurdly dangerous, but mages were frequently too arrogant for their own good.

That coin, however, made Valeria very curious. It wasn't money, so it was definitely custom made. The question, what purpose did it serve? Did she want to take it or refuse it? She weighed the pros and cons of each possibility.

If it was some sort of genuine symbol of favor, then taking it would seal a friendly acquaintance between them and likely get her in good with one of the noble families. Valeria didn't much care about that. Rejecting it could upset a mage who would either immediately attack or plan some sort of assault later. The immediate attack would be fine, but the mage didn't seem to be that stupid. Having her plot Valeria's downfall and become a longtime enemy would be incredibly annoying.

If the coin was some sort of trick, then taking it would land her square into aome sort of trap. Valeria didn't know too much about the different kinds of spells that could be on it, but she believed that as long as she didn't touch it with bare skin, the worst ones could be avoided. If she rejected it, then the mage would know that Valeria was suspicious and plot some sort of greater attack, leading to the same situation as the other possibility.

After a couple seconds spent thinking about her options, Valeria reached out and took the coin, her hand protected by an armored leather glove. She stared at it for a moment, examining the image. Wasn't one of the houses named Raven-something? That made her feel a little better. If the coin was adorned with the symbol of a noble family, it likely wasn't a trap. Unless she was trying to frame a rival house. Though even the most incompetent of guards would see through such obviously planted evidence. So, possibly not. Whatever the case, Valeria slipped the coin into a belt pouch and looked up at the scarred figure in front of her.

"Thanks, I guess," she answered before turning back to the younger elf.

"Hmph, there's no insult you could make that's greater than what's already been made. Yer words don't upset me."

Valeria noticed that the woman was quite beautiful, even for elves. Actually, she looked really familiar without her hood. Valeria couldn't quite place the name, but she was sure she'd seen this elf somewhere before. This would irritate her all day.

"Well, I'm not one to stand around talkin' forever, so unless either of you ladies would like to hire me to kill some things, I'd best get going."

Glinda had been waiting for some time before Gavin appeared. In truth, she hadn't been specifically waiting for any one person. She simply wanted someone to give her something to do, but all the heads seemed absent at the moment, all except Gavin, of course. She knew exactly what he'd meant with his innuendo but ignored it. She didn't pry into the private lives of others or spread gossip. Dwarves did everything honestly and earnestly. If you took issue with someone, you confronted him head on, not skulk in the shadows and attack his reputation. So instead, Glinda changed the subject.

"Well if'n 'e's busy far tha mom'nt, Och don' s'ppose ye haff any 'ssignm'nts far me?" the dwarven woman asked in her nearly incomprehensible accent.

by **Feldkirch-Bregenz** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 5:23 pm

Teodor Sasek

Teodor Sasek knelt before the altar, far from the sight of any living thing. Upon the altar, there was a corpse. The corpse, if inspected, would appear to be bizarre. Many cuts had been made into the flesh of the once-living, and blood was pooled in the sacrificial fonts surrounding the offering. Teodor, wearing his ritual paint, had his hands in the blood of the sacrificed man, and was speaking ancient words, forgotten by many. The sentence he repeated was an ancient ritual, known only to the Order of Pekel.

"Auiem khanef Pekel nek khefa, zikhul ni Pekel."

As Teodor spoke, the blood around his hands began to move. It was not movement like that made by mortal things, but rather a spiritual movement. The very essence of the blood was changing, all according to Teodor's words. Suddenly, a great pain tore through Teodor, causing him to double over, his hands falling from the pool. Quickly, and in spite of the great pain he felt, Teodor stood to see what was happening. He looked down at his chest, the source of the pain, and saw the head of an arrow. Being a man very quick to rage, Teodor immediately wanted vengeance. He turned around, seeing his potential assassin directly in the eyes. The assassin was a male elf, and he seemed to be readying to fire another arrow. Teodor, knowing that he wouldn't be able to reach the assassin in time, bowed his head and muttered a prayer to the Great Serpent, hoping that she would heed his call. As Teodor looked up once more, seeing the assassin release his bowstring, sending the arrow flying towards Teodor, time itself stopped. Then, a great tremor caused the ground to split, nearly swallowing Teodor. The assassin was struck with debris, and thoroughly trapped. Before Teodor could move to kill his attacker, he heard a great voice speaking behind him. "Aseti peni sibiu, guru asaneth," said the voice. The words were a call to arms heard long ago echoing from the once great Karth Pekel. The keep, now crumbled and ruined, housed the tomb of Bartal Pekel, the Lord of the Order of Pekel. Now, it would seem, Bartal himself had awakened.

Teodor was ecstatic, knowing that his blood ritual had been effective. The blood of the mortals sacrificed over a three day period had been spilled in accordance with the old ways, and the correct spells had been uttered. He turned to look at his master, seeing Bartal Pekel for the first time. Immediately, Teodor dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain in his chest. Bartal Pekel was tall, standing at least six feet and five inches. He was muscular, from his various times of war throughout his long lifetime, but still handsome. Despite being nearly two-thousand years old, Bartal looked as though he was in his early thirties. He still wore the black armour he was buried in, with his infamous black steel sword at his side. He approached Teodor, looking as though he was going to praise his loyal subject, but instead he walked straight past the kneeling man. Bartal went directly to the assassin, looking the elf in the eyes. Bartal's eyes were dark, nearly black, and reflected the very void between man and divine. Within moments, the assassin was overwhelmed with fear, working hard to escape from the debris which held him down. Bartal knelt down, placing his hand on the head of the assassin. Then, Bartal placed a finger in each of the man's eyes, pressing until the elf screamed in agony. When the elf was blinded, Bartal stood, raising his arms to the sky. "See, now, the judgement of the Great Serpent." Bartal twisted his hand, directing it at the heart of the assassin. The elf suddenly froze, stopping his screaming. Blood started to exit through the elf's ears, mouth, and nose, as well as from his destroyed eyes. Then, as quickly as it had happened, the elf was dead. Bartal Pekel, death incarnate, had returned to the mortal plain.

by **Servinta** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 7:27 pm

Olthar wrote:Glinda had been waiting for some time before Gavin appeared. In truth, she hadn't been specifically waiting for any one person. She simply wanted someone to give her something to do, but all the heads seemed absent at the moment, all except Gavin, of course. She knew exactly what he'd meant with his innuendo but ignored it. She didn't pry into the private lives of others or spread gossip. Dwarves did everything honestly and earnestly. If you took issue with someone, you confronted him head on, not skulk in the shadows and attack his reputation. So instead, Glinda changed the subject.

"Well if'n 'e's busy far tha mom'nt, Och don' s'ppose ye haff any 'ssignm'nts far me?" the dwarven woman asked in her nearly incomprehensible accent.

Her accent was hard to understand and hard to listen to for those with a taste for the fine quotes of play-writes and more refined melodic sounds of symphonies.But he was not some common peasant or brutish warrior, he was an elf who sought to increase his capabilities in all aspects of his long life.And luckily for Glinda one of those aspects included the spoken language, which he was fluent in several varieties he had learned over his hundred plus years.

"Official assignments, no.At least none that come to mind right now, and with half the other inquisitors out on their own tasks and the rest trying to keep this place in order they probably have little time to worry about someone elses work." He sadly wasn't lying when he stressed the hectic state of the Inquisition as the Madness and the dark politics of this land stretched their resources and sanity to the brink of collaps without constant attention on all fronts.He himself had enough pull to not be stuck as a paper jokey in the keeps library but still not enough to ignore the problems besieging Ardwind and was therefor currently heading out to try and levitate one of the most pressing matters at hand, 'The Madness'.

"But ... if you desire to you can accompany me on my outing to backtrack the activities and events that lead to the now dead merchant's affliction.Besides 'the more the merrier' as they say and I'm sure you don't want to be wasting your talents away in this dusty old place!" He normally wouldn't have even entertained the thought of having someone join him as he went out and met with his various contacts.But with the situation on the outside getting more desperate and the sheer fat that he a smart elf that lacked the combat prowess that Glinda, a dwarf of the Inquisition had.

He hadn't really heard of her except that she was know to have less than lady-like manners when it came to things that normal women would avoid completely, and that she hailed from the Axegrinder clan which spoke volumes on her capabilities to anyone familiar with dwarven history.This small tidbit of information was enough for Gavin to use to his advantage, she would provide the up front muscle he would need in-case his investigation got heated and he could soon manipulate her to crave some recognition for her deeds adding another card to his hand aginst Arron.

"So care to join me?" He said as he continued walking down the hallway towards the caslte stables, intentionally trying to make her descision rushed so that she would give into her races natural way of life to take a job and get it done without hesitation.

by **Olthar** » Wed Oct 07, 2015 9:57 pm

Glinda didn't quite understand what Gavin had said. How was that not official business? Why would they keep an investigation into the Madness off the books? Unless that's not really what was going on. Glinda had no interest in partaking in clandestine activities, but if Gavin was doing something illegal, she'd need proof before reporting him.

"Aye, A'll falle ye," she answered earnestly, "Them Marches be dang'rus, an' ye'll be needin' som'ne ta watch yer elv'n backside."

Following Gavin towards the stables, Glinda frowned. She wasn't fond of riding horses. She didn't like relying on an unpleasant and unpredictable animal. Handcars were much more reliable. She didn't understand why humans never built any. They were very common in good, dwarven mines.

by **Kanatistan** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 5:18 am

Adil and Alexander de Albani

"So how was your preaching?" Adil asked sarcastically as his brother marched through the heavy and large oak doors of the Albani Manor. The manor was a large structure, 8ft stone walls topped with iron spikes built in a time long ago before the city grew so large surround a courtyard of cobblestone, the entrance a was a metal bar gate with the shape of a lion engraved on a plaque on the front. The building itself appears like an old fortress from ages past, and yet like a small palace. Upon entering you would be struck by how well it is taken care of, most houses and mansions in the cities dominion appear ill cared for. There were 20 rooms, including 3 bedrooms, a servants quarters, a kitchen, a dining hall, a large entrance hall adorned with the house colors of red, a library, an entertainment room, a vault in the basement, a pantry, a wine cellar, a dancing hall (converted into a sort of temple and being the only room on the topmost floor), a small armory, and a few abstract rooms.
"Are they here?" He asked abruptly.
"Why yes, brother, our 'friends' are upstairs in the dancing hall." And he proceeded upstairs with his brother Alexander. He lacked his brothers enthusiasm and believed him to be mentally ill. As they proceeded up one of the spiral staircases that flanked the dancing hall. About 35 people were crowded in the hall, attended by the Albani servants and facing a large podium/alter on the backside of the room, a large window (barred) law behind it.
"Friends, I welcome you all to my most humble abode," Alexander said exclaimed, upon ascending the podium, "I gathered you all here today to discuss the future of our movement, how will we move forward?"
An uproar surged through the room, most people wanted to forcibly take the city, others wanted to do that as well but after growing in strength, and a minority wanted to scrap the violent part of the cult. Then suddenly Alexander called the peaceniks forward and had them line up in front of the alter.
"What do the ten of you propose? Peace? No, by all that is just and orderly, no. That is heresy." And then Alexander gave Adil a signal under with his hand, who nodded to ten men armed with bows. "Good day to you!" Alexander said in a way that sounded kind, but a look at his eyes saw only wrath. And suddenly arrows pierced the "heretics" in the back, and they fell, and they squirmed, and then those who didn't die were beat, beheaded and there heads where given to Adil and his six men.
"Haha, we will fight, but not now. Adil! Take these heads and tonight, when the market is empty, put them on pikes so all can see them. But DO NOT GET SEEN!"
And with that Alexander retreated down the steps of the podium and descended the stairs to his room.

by **Zombie Fascists** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 5:28 am

Ilvira bowed her head for Valeria as a sign of respect, and her luscious fiery hair fell forward. She looked up again with a smile. "I don't need anything killed right now, but should that change I'll make sure to send for you." Ilvira half-joked, glad that the living warrior legend wasn't too disappointed in her earlier lack of knowing.

"And I must say the same, unless one of you intend to employ me to warm your bed, then I better be on my way as well..." she said with a glance towards Alu'kayna. It seemed unlikely either of them would take the bait right away, although she was a bit unsure about the mage, but there was nothing wrong in promoting herself a little even before the sunset.

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 7:51 am

House Whiteford,
Alu'kayna Starsinger.

Alu' shot a brief glance between the two, offering a slight smirk prior to speaking up, "I do believe I could make use of individuals of both your fields of work.." She comments, prior to pointing towards Valeria, "Take the coin I gave you to the Whitefords' primary estate in the upper region of the city, show it to the guards there and see where your destiny takes you." Her finger then glides in the direction of Ilvira, "And you." she says briefly, taking a pause to inhale and possibly ponder what to say next, "You, come with me. Should you wish to explore new avenues of business and possibly find a way out of this cesspit." As she concludes, her hand recedes back into her robes, a grin stretching from ear to ear as she pulls up her cowl once again.

by **Olthar** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 11:11 am

Ah, that's it.

Once the elf had made the comment about beds and the warming thereof, Valeria immediately recognized her. Shame that such a pretty girl had such a terrible job. Nevertheless, Valeria had no interest inher services at the moment.

Without saying anything more towards either of them, Valeria walked away. She was completely right about that mage. "See where your destiny takes you." What a pompous and arrogant way to phrase that. It's like the woman didn't even realize how ridiculous she sounded. Still, it was worth looking into. Later.

The dark elf instead began walking back towards the tavern. Showing up immediately after getting a job offer was a sign of desperation. Make them wait so long that it's almost as if even the act of coming was an afterthought. Make them think that you didn't need the job and could easily get another. Of course, that bluff was easy to pull off when it was actually true. There was always work for someone in her field, especially for someone as skilled as she was. Mayne she'd wait a couple days. At the very least, she needed to wait long enough for the mage to make it back first and talk about the encounter and be surprised when she finds out that Valeria hadn't shown up yet.

by **Zombie Fascists** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 12:13 pm

There was something about the mage that scared Ilvira, but she couldn't afford to say no. She wasn't sure what the woman wanted, the way she talked suggested it was something else than her usual field of work. She looked at her, and took on her professional side. It was very important to be able to show confidence when you regularly had thugs around, and this witch was not necessarily an exception, even if her talk was sweet. And now that Valeria had left there was none other to back her up.

"I'm always interested in talking business, whatever the subject might be." The elf smiled seductively. "If you do not wish us to depart immediately, I would be most thankful for a brief moment to leave this basket with items from the market back at my quarters..." she said and pointed at her basket, "... and freshen myself up a bit, and change into something better suiting... just as much for your sake as for mine, my lady." She gave Alu'kayna a flirtatious wink.

What she said was true, but what Ilvira didn't mention was that she wanted to make sure people had seen her back at the inn before she left, and perhaps she would even leave a message behind, in case anything should happen to her. Most of the time it was a superfluous caution, but not when she was about to serve dangerous customers. Such as this mage.

But Ilvira would lie to herself if she didn't admit that she was curious as well. "... a way out of this cesspit..." She wasn't a very ambitious woman, but this could turn out to be an opportunity she would be foolish to turn down.

by **The Moscow Metro Red Line** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 12:26 pm

Morana silently watched the exchange take place in front of her. "That woman in the robes did not look very friendly", Morana thought. "I felt a little cold when I saw her." As Dark Elf Woman left, Erebus came around the corner and spotted her behind the statue. He immediately sprinted to her.
"Child! Where have you been?" Erebus yelled. Morana sheepishly walked out from behind the statue, head lowered and hands behind her. "Do you have any idea what could happen in the city by yourself? You could have been kidnapped, You could still be wandering the streets, or hell you could be sold as a slave." Erebus bickered as he grabbed Morana's shoulder. "Dammit Child. Stick close to me and never leave my sight again!"

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 1:03 pm

House Whiteford,
Alu'kayna Starsinger.

Quietly Alu' approached the young girl, getting incredibly close, almost uncomfortably slow - her height incredible for that of a Human, "I do believe I can arrange to have your basket taken back to your accommodation for you, that shan't be a problem and your attire is more than.. Suitable. For the time being." Her grin widened ever more, a hand revealing itself from behind her robes to gently stroke the girl's cheek before turning and taking a step away, "My time and that of my.. benefactors.. Is important and trivialities such as appearance are well.. Considerably less so." She glances over her shoulder towards the young woman, "So, are you coming?"

It would be at this moment she heard the man yelling at the young girl and slowly maneuvered to get a visual of the situation unfolding, albeit from a bit of a distance, her eyes slanted slightly as she watched quietly, whether this was out of mere nosiness or for some other purpose, remains to be seen. However, she would regularly return her gaze to the elf, awaiting her response.

by **Zombie Fascists** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 1:45 pm

Ilvira payed no attention to Morana and Erebus. A loving father who worried and cared about his daughter was nothing abnormal, even if she herself had never experienced such a thing.

Her focus was on Alu'kayna. Her touch had almost caused her to shiver, but the elf had managed to keep a straight face. "Well, this is it..." she thought.

"Yes, I'm coming." She smiled, but was incredibly nervous within.

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 2:24 pm

House Whiteford,
Alu'kayna Starsinger.

With her usual fierce grin, Alu' set herself into motion, her pace fairly rapid and consistent, weaving in and out of traffic with relative ease. Eventually sliding into an alley off of the square, the alley forcing the duo into single file, "My dear, what is your greatest desire in life? What to you long for, more than anything else in this world?" She questions, continuing along, now slowing slightly before emerging onto the next street, never once looking back to face Ilvira. Her eyes locked on the path before her, as if she were following a map, "Many a year ago, I was much like yourself - I do imagine. Just.. Trying to survive.. But I had my ambitions, my goals, my pipe-dreams and I'm sure you do too.." The duo pass another hooded figure, who's head moved in a manner similar to that of a nod, though it was difficult to tell if it was directed towards Alu' who didn't seem to react at all, though her hand did flinch some what.

by **Finsternia** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 3:15 pm

House de Quincy

Varamir

Varamir took a nice warm bath and picked a black coat with a red scarf. He also wore black high boots and red pants. He strode towards the dining room, the servants of House de Quincy are chatting over the meal. They turned silent and bowed before their lord and returned to their food and chattering. He took his chair at the head of the table, with his most loyal servants, Gehrman and Micolash. "Sirs, what is our schedule today?"

Micolash

The cage around his head slightly rattled as he faced the young lord. "Ah, the blood moon gazes upon the faces of the weak! May we bask upon it's red moonlight." He struggled to bring the spoon full of peas to his mouth. "Certainly the lords of the lowlands want to have time to gaze upon the red moonlight. Yet before we speak upon the eyeless brains, we must seek the birds of shadow and send a letter." He jiggled his cage.

Gehrman

The old man just sat in his chair, patiently waiting for his lords command. "What is your counsel, Gehrman?" The old fighter nodded. "We have almost nothing to do for the day except for spars and training. Of course the other nobles are afraid of the Moon's Spire, because of us and because of the beasts in the woods. Certainly a letter is welcome."

by **Zombie Fascists** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 3:27 pm

Ilvira followed the mage closely. They were getting further and further away from the slums, but as long as there were people around she knew that she was still relatively safe. She listened carefully to what the scarred woman had to say, and tried to answer her best accordingly. It was now beyond doubt that whatever the dark lady desired from her, it was nothing sexual.

"To be completely honest, my lady.... I don't have many dreams or desires. Just... well, I don't wish to be a whore all my life. Maybe I want a family to love and who loves me back, to leave in peace with, at some safe place... and maybe even a small fortune. But I don't know how any of that is ever going to happen."

Why had she been so honest to this weird stranger? She didn't know, but something in her gut told her it was right. She wished she could be sure...

"Forgive me, my lady, but I don't think I ever got your name." Many of her customers wanted to remain anonymous, and she usually allowed it, but his time was different in so many ways. "Er... where are we going? I'm still getting paid, right?"

Bad, Ilvira. She had let her worry shine through. A mistake. Not something the Rose of Ardwind would do. But she didn't feel like the Rose now, just a nervous young elf woman. Just Ilvira Thïndriell.

by **The Vekta-Helghast Empire** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 4:05 pm

House Whiteford,
Alu'kayna Starsinger.

As the young elf concluded her response, Alu' took a sharp turn into yet another alley way, this time down the side of a small corner shop - the alley seemed to lead to nowhere, but once you'd made some progress down it, a turn to the left revealed itself and around the turn, stood a large steel door, though it seemed to be lacking one key component that all doors tend to have - a means to open it. There seemed to be nothing but a large circular indentation in its center of mass, but no handle or push pad, "You're not.. 'just a whore'.. As you so elegantly put it. Never underestimate the power of your common prostitute. They see things, hear things, things that even the greatest agents in the land couldn't discover in years of investigation. A name, a place, a number.. Small things which play incredibly large roles in the larger scope of things.. You hold more power than anyone cares to imagine."

As Alu' concluded, she reached into her robes once again, removing another coin, this one however having a hook on one side. She slid the coin into the door's indentation, the hook protruding outwards, allowing here to use it as a handle. Slowly she twists it, a light clicking emanating from the door each time she completes a rotation, "My name, well.. That's not particularly important. Besides, I wouldn't wish to terrify you any further than you no doubt already are." Her comment was in its usual cold tone, making it near impossible to tell if she was joking about the whole terrifying thing or not, "We're going somewhere.. A tad more private. As for your payment, well - that's entirely down to you my dear girl." CLACK. The twisting halted, the coin withdrew from the slot and with it - the door crept open, revealing a dark stairwell, heading downwards, lighten faintly by a few dwindling candles.

"Have you ever heard of the ‘Cult of the Anathematised’, my young girl?" She questions, making her way down the twisting staircase, lowering her hood once more, revealing her long charcoal black hair, which she flicks free of her cowl, allowing it to fall to her mid-back. Some streaks of gray, either as a result of dye or aging, can be seen spread throughout it, forming no particular pattern or style, "Or perhaps a better question would be, have you heard of the 'Order of Pekel' - The latter of the two being a group of madmen, if you ask me. Though, I do imagine that's down to interpretation of scripture more than anything else." This time as she finishes speaking, the duo reach the base of the stairwell - before them stands another large black door, covered in hints of red, along with the floor surrounding it - much in resemblance to that of dried blood..

by **Servinta** » Thu Oct 08, 2015 7:07 pm

Olthar wrote:Glinda didn't quite understand what Gavin had said. How was that not official business? Why would they keep an investigation into the Madness off the books? Unless that's not really what was going on. Glinda had no interest in partaking in clandestine activities, but if Gavin was doing something illegal, she'd need proof before reporting him.

"Aye, A'll falle ye," she answered earnestly, "Them Marches be dang'rus, an' ye'll be needin' som'ne ta watch yer elv'n backside."

Following Gavin towards the stables, Glinda frowned. She wasn't fond of riding horses. She didn't like relying on an unpleasant and unpredictable animal. Handcars were much more reliable. She didn't understand why humans never built any. They were very common in good, dwarven mines.

Having one of the stable boys bring forth his personal steed and one of the common horses for Glinda, Gavin and his new investigation partner didn't have to wait long before the young lad returned with their rides following close behind.The pure white hotblood stallion Gavin had confiscated during one of his first investigations was named 'Juppar' after a common parable that was taught to most young elven children about a horse that no matter what humans threw at it could never be tamed and roamed freely forever.It of course was actually meant to represent the elven race in general and was a slight nod to his heritage that Gavin so rarely looked back upon in this human dominated land.The others name was 'belvedier' after a nominally famous count from far back in Ardwinds history, but considering the fact it was a common use horse that anyone was allowed to ride didn't speak well for the good years of service that the beast had put in.

"Then let us be off, the day is young but we have much to do!" He said as he stepped upon a small stool the boy had pulled out for the two and mounted Juppar with ease.

He could see that Glinda wasn't exactly ecstatic about her horse, weather this was because she thought it a poor ride or if she just wasn't an equestrian he couldn't tell for both were valid and likely options.The horse had carried Inquisitors in full Armour before and was therefore more than capable of carrying the stout dwarf with ease compared to a battle ready knight.

"Keep up, if you can." Gavin smirked as he gave Juppar a light nudge with his stirrups, causing the speedy horse to take off out of the stable and into the keeps courtyard.He circled the dirt patch surrounded by high castle walls on all sides before whistling to one of the Justicars on gaurd at the gate and was replied to with the creaking of the massive wooden drawbridge as it was lowered down to allow him and Glinda exit into the Red Marches beyond.

Then like a searing white lightning bolt he and his horse took off into the wilds beyond, heading straight for the outskirts of Ardwind and for his contacts.

by **The Moscow Metro Red Line** » Fri Oct 09, 2015 12:02 am

After they reunited, Erebus decided to take her back home rather than continue the search for test subjects. Blood Magic has been a secret tradition of the Budny Family. Each generation of Budny has written their own research notes into the study of Blood Magic and hidden them in the family library. It has been an inside joke within the family that the Budnys are cursed with a curiosity of Blood Magic. Every Budny is expected to learn the 'family trade' at sometime. Usually it is forced upon them at an early age such as 9 or 10. Erebus was only 7 when his father taught him the ropes. However as far as Erebus knows, they are the last Budnys in the world. His father and mother died of old age. His younger sister committed suicide after learning of the family's dark secret. Erebus has decided not to teach Morana the family trade because of the death of his wife.

"Morana. How many times have I told you not to leave me?" Erebus scolded her as they walked through the gate. After they walked through the gate, Erebus noticed a open-topped oak carriage and a middle-aged man next to it.

"Good day sir", the man said. "Where do you need to go?" This wasn't the first time Erebus have used his service. In fact both he and the driver are on good terms. Also they both live in the same village.

"Ironwood Village." Erebus hastily replied as he motioned Morana to get on the carriage.

"Alright sir. But we will have to wait a few minutes. I'd rather leave with a full load than just you and your daughter."

"That would be fine."

Madness and the Inquisitor [Medieval Fantasy RP; IC; Open]

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