RP:A King Takes
Part of the Rise of Larket Arc
Summary: Kelovath returns to Trist'oth to confront Matron Gevurah. Words are exchanged. Magic is thrown all over the place. Kelovath gets a new sword, but doesn't learn much about Gevurah's involvement with Macon.
The Belfry Tower
Kelovath hated hiding out in Cenril. It was the city more than anything. Dirty and dangerous. Little work to be found that was honest, so most work was avoided. There had been a couple visits to the church, but the grand-building reeked of corruption. No one there to be trusted, which was unnerving. No place was sacred in Cenril, which made actually going out and exploring difficult. Josleen was in Frostmaw and staying around Skylei was awkward. So, with the information passed along to him from the fermin that was captured, Kelovath decided to leave the city for a bit. Hopefully be back before Josleen returned, but trips to the Underdark weren’t always so easy. He knew the way, but this time he’d have to go alone. The trip itself was uneventful and rather quick. Probably a bad omen. As he did before, the paladin stopped at the tavern within Trist’oth for rest. No point in gathering information. He just needed a break before the start of a real challenge began. He downed a glass of water, took a breath, and headed toward D’Artes Manor. The whole point of this adventure was to learn more about the events around Larket. Surely Gevurah and her spy-network knew something. But, from what Hsk had reveled, there was more than politics going on. A worshipper of Vakmatharas had their fingers involved in Larket and Kelovath knew the D’Artes ‘family’ practiced with such magic. If not Gevurah herself, in all honesty. All speculation at this point, which brings Kelovath to the front door of the manor, the man knocking swiftly at the door and waiting for an answer. Already, the man could feel a pull, but ignored whatever it was for now. His head needed to be focused. And attached.
As soon as Kelovath entered Trist’oth Tavern D’Artes spies reported his arrival in the city to Gevurah. The famously short-tempered noble has been stewing in anger since Rikailin and Skylei successfully rescued her prisoner, the elven (former?) Archdruid Liana. A handful of servants have felt the lash for infractions as small as staring or not bowing deep enough. Thus, it is with great glee that Gevurah anticipates her next punching bag, Kelovath, that Arkhen brown noser with a hero complex and a throne to chase. Delightful. She dons more officious dress and settles into the throne room with the seven-headed viper whip writhing on her throne’s wide armrest. Izzerin, the House Chamberlain, leads Kelovath straight to the throne room, smirking to himself in anticipation of an excellent show. As the paladin passes the artifacts in the foyer, one in particularly perks up at the holy man’s presence. Tenbatsu Kaji, holy katana and itching to be wielded by a blessed hand, rattles in its glass case.
Kelovath gave a quick nod to Izzerin, but no words were exchanged. There’s only one reason for anyone to come here and it’s to see Gevurah. The pull at his mind happened once more, which he could not ignore. It was the sword and something more within it. Instead of resisting the pull, the paladin allowed it to sap some of his energy. Not that anything was expected to happen, but it did surprise the man. Why pull at his mind so much and do nothing after giving permission. His steps brought him into the throne room, eyes taking in the strange, but beautiful surroundings. Not exactly his style, but Gevurah sure had taste. When Izzerin stepped away, another nod of the head was given to him. The paladin stepped forward, stopping at about the same place he did during his last visit. Out of some sliver of respect, the mis-matched-armored man bowed to Gevurah and spoke softly, “Matron Gevurah.”
Tenbatsu Kaji stills after it leeches some of Kelovath’s holy power. Once Izzerin and the paladin are out of earshot, it uses that power to start banging more forcefully against the glass. In the throne room, Gevurah smiles toothlessly at Kelovath. Faerie light dimly lights her ebon face. “Kelovath. And title have you to claim now. Criminal-on-the-run, I hear. Kelovath the Disgraced?”
Kelovath lifted from his bow and brought his gaze to Gevurah. “Kelovath the Falsely Accused, is probably more accurate.” A brief second passed to allow the obvious stance he has be taken in. He wasn’t a traitor. Nor did he believe himself to be one. “What do you know of it? Word travels fast, it seems. Even down here.” The last was said with a smirk. Not a traitor or a criminal. And still confident, even in this situation.
Gevurah drums her fingertips against the armrest opposite the whip. “I know enough. Why did you come here. What do you want from me. I told you not to come here unless you had something to offer.”
Kelovath stayed calm at the harsh tone. “I have questions. I wouldn’t say we are allies, but Trist’oth has something to gain with me being at the throne of Larket. Would you really want to deal with some unknown taking charge of Larket? Or someone who you can kind of trust? Or at the very least, tolerate. Our trade agreement will be void if I am unable to get back in to Larket. I’m seeking information, Matron Gevurah. For stability between D’Artes and Larket.”
Gevurah scoffs at the idea that Trist’oth has something to gain under a King Kelovath in Larket. “I told you I wanted to attack the sage elves hiding in the Eternal Forest and you said you would defend them. This new ruler, this Macon, would let me.” She smiles darkly. “And so, I believe I will watch Larket fall to his rule--eagerly. Perhaps I should negotiate trade with him.” She laughs a bit. “Offer me something, or get out.”
Kelovath narrowed his gaze some. “So, you know Macon? I wonder, during his time away from Larket, did he come here? Probably seeking shelter as he ran away from his home, like a coward.” A pause as the paladin pondered carefully about his next words. “You know what else cowards do? They betray. Trist’oth is a real threat. To everyone within Hollow, should you wish. What would be stopping Macon from allowing you to attack the elves, then take advantage of the situation and send his own troops to wipe out your group? That would be a hefty claim for Macon, saying he is able to defeat the warriors of D’Artes, while bravely trying to defend the elves. It’d make you look weak, Matron Gevurah. Why risk it, when the mess could be avoided? Share something with me that gives me leverage over Macon and then we can talk about the elves.” Using the lives of so many elves as an incentive was sickening, but he had nothing else.
Gevurah laughs at what she deems to be an entirely implausible scenario. Macon, her disciple, sending surfacers through the Underdark to kill the drow in their home city? “You sound desperate, would-be King.” Unfortunately for Kelovath, Gevurah had more information about Macon, his plot, and his offer to the drow. “You know while you’ll never be King of anything? You lack aggression. Kings take. Let me show you!” As she spits out the last word she rises to her feet and tosses out from beneath her piwafwi an obsidian, enchanted short-spear (the length of a forearm). It’s magical trajectory makes a beeline for Kelovath’s chest at the speed of sound, impossible to avoid, and enchanted to pierce through platemail and his heart. However, just before the spear reaches its target, Tenbatsu Kaji, broken from its confines by the grace of Kelovath’s holy power, deflects the spear then hovers mid-air before Kelovath to be wielded. Gevurah snarls and launches a ball of crackling death energy right at Kelovath’s head.
Kelovath did not expect the Matron to attack him. Sure, she was evil and obviously had some anger issues, but to attack a possible ally for the future was unheard of. To him, anyway. Simple paladin. Much to learn, he does. But that wouldn’t matter now, as the spear would be his death. Well, it should have been. Kelovath should be dead right now, but instead, Tenbatsu Kaji would be owed a life debt, it seems. The armored paladin grabbed the holy weapon and was immediately filled with power. There was a faint voice(Seika) as well, but before it would even be plausible to hear it, another attempt at his life was being made. Without a second thought, the paladin brought the katana back and charged forward at the death energy. He slid down and brought the sword up, slicing through the dark energy and used the momentum to launch himself at the Priestess of Vakmatharas. One hand wielding Tenbatsu Kaji, the blade itself glowing brightly in holy flame and his free hand beginning to brighten up as well. The sword sought to pierce in to the Matron. And if that missed, the glowing armored hand of Kelovath would swing at her in a holy punch of justice!
Gevurah will make as many attempts on Kelovath’s life as necessary to kill him. She doesn’t have time to wonder how the katana broke free of its restraints. She wants the sword back, and Kelovath dead. She takes the whip from the throne as she deftly side steps the piercing katana, but Kelovath predicted her evasive maneuver and his punch dislocated her jaw and breaks her skin. To put distance between herself and Kelovath, she whips the seven viper heads at his hand and face, the snakes uncoiling to extend towards the latter and inject necrotic venom into his flesh. If she gains even a foot of distance between herself and the paladin, the priestess levitates quickly, jaw swinging wildly within her flesh. Her free hand rains down a cone of fire. From far corners of the estate, a small squad of guards converge on the throne room to intervene should Gevurah ask them too. For the moment, she’s intent to kill the golden cockroach herself.
Kelovath pulled his momentum back some when the katana was unable to connect. The tip of the blade stuck into the back of the throne, but thankfully his (somewhat wild) swing of the fist made contact. The fangs of the snakes do stab into his neck and the venom could be felt as it swam through his blood stream. He’s on a time limit now. Escape was the priority as the venom would surely be tearing him up from the inside. As much as he wished to pursue the dark elf, he had to think ahead. There were guards coming in now. Yet again, the odds were stacked against the armored paladin. But with Tenbatsu Kaji now his, this could be seen as a win. Another wide swing of the holy weapon was directed at Gevurah and her cone of fire. There was no way the blade itself could connect with the drow, so instead a wave of holy magic was sent toward her, but most of the attack would meet with the flames. Armor or not, it’s impossible to escape all of that fire without being harmed. He leapt from the throne, legs being licked by the flames as it found skin between the gaps of armor. Running would be difficult soon. He needed to find a way out. He started building up some energy, which he found to be much easier with this new weapon.
Gevurah‘s flames are buffeted back by the holy wave. She can only keep her still-newbish pyromancy skills running for so long (all she can do is turn the spigot on and off). Channeling fire exhausts her quickly, so she aborts the spell and returns to her dark priestess roots. She chants a prayer as Kelovath builds holy energy in Tenbatsu’s Kaji’s blade. Her voice booms and echoes off the cavernous walls until she at last blasts a translucent beam of black light at Kelovath’s head. It won’t hurt, not a smidge, but threatens to turn his thoughts mad, paranoid, and fearful. All his nightmares will materialize before his every eyes, and his eyes alone. Her magic is dark, the polar opposite of his, and it’s difficult to tell whether the blessed or accursed god’s will shall win out the battle. The throne room has only one exit for Kelovath, back the way he came. Two guards stand there now, and behind them in the hall another two, and in the foyer a final pair. None of them attack, for the drow are possessive killers. Kill stealing is frowned upon, and one of the few rules obeyed.
Kelovath was able to build up his magic rather quickly thanks to the weapon. The stored energy showed brightly within the blade and soon filled the paladin. With his available hand, the holy energy was sent out and would slam into the dark magic heading his way. For a moment, it seemed like time stood still. How long had it been within the land of Hollow that pure evil and pure good found each other in such a way? Back when the Immortals still walked? Or was it even farther back than that? This battle within the D’Artes throne room was more than a simple disagreement. It was a deciding factor for wars to come. For battles to happen. Blades to clash. Lives to be lost. Kelovath would win it. He had too. This battle, however, was already a win. He knew Gevurah was involved with Macon. She had to be. And now having Tenbatsu Kaji within his grasp sealed his victory. As a last ditch effort, the paladin pushed harder with his hand and the magic became unstable. An explosion. Then a bright flash of light. Seika, the guardian of Tenbatsu Kaji, whispered to Kelovath, “My chosen one. We must go.” There was another flash of light, but this one lasted much longer. The paladin took the chance and headed for the exit. The guards within the throne room were blinded and when the doors open, the next pair were as well. That time frame was long enough for Kelovath use his own reserve of magic to boost his speed. As he should have been speeding out of the home of Gevurah, a moment was given to spare a lasting glance at the two weapons left behind. The elves would be able to make great use of those. But, he needed to get out of there. A disgruntled looked, but he regained focus. A single swing of the sword, combined with his speed, dispatched one guard, which was more than enough to allow an easy escape. Surely a glowing, speeding man in armor, leaving House D’Artes would catch attention. The possibility of yet another blow to Gevurah’s reputation. Of course, if Kelovath dies from the poison, then this was all for nothing. Back to Cenril. Or the nearest healer.
Gevurah gets blasted in the face by her own dark spell (which cannot affect her) and Kelovath’s holy might, which sends her smashing against a wall and tosses her on the ground like a ragdoll. She’s still conscious, but too weak to move and give chase. Internal bruises begin to blossom beneath the skin. Some organs bleed. She’s a dogged priest, and ready to chase Kelovath with more unholy magic, but his blinding light protects him until he is out of sight. The guards are given no real opportunity to react. Dammit. He escaped.