RP:A White Necromancer In The Black City

Part of the Welcome To The End of Eras Arc

Summary: Rainbow Thunderwhale, a non-traditional necromancer, ventures to the Dark City in order to investigate its' recent hiring practices. That, and to try and foil whatever dastardly plot that its' dreadful and definitely evil overlord is plotting to the detriment of the rest of continent.

Great Hall of Vailkrin

The main room of the castle has been arranged to sit accommodate many visitors with two long stone tables on either side of a centre aisle along which the runner from the entrance continues nearly the whole length of the room. Each table has been set simply but elegantly with a long strip of tablecloth interrupted at regular intervals with identical silver candlesticks which softly illuminate the seating areas. Most of the light in the room, however, issues from a chandelier which is less a candelabra than a giant bowl filled with burning oil, hanging from great chains which are held in the mouth of a stone grotesque, the throat of which also serves as a chimney to prevent the room from filling with the acrid smoke issuing from the flames beneath it. The stonework continues across the ceiling with depictions of skeletons who appear to be passing corpses towards the beast in the centre of the ceiling to be consumed. The ceiling itself is supported by pillars which stand just out from either wall which are fronted by carvings of a faceless, hooded figure; representations of Vakamatharas, the God of Death. To the North – behind a rather more grandiose table supposedly reserved for the hosts and their esteemed guests – and through a small archway are a set of stairs leading to an upper level of the castle.

Rainbow Thunderwhale did not particularly like this city. This was for a few reasons, but primarily the fact that she expects that a good amount of its population would be quite happy to kill her if given the chance - her sort was generally not exactly favored by the mortally challenged sort that tended to call this city home. As such, Rainbow had adapted to the color of the city, now appearing as just another ominously cloaked figure among ominously cloaked figures walking the streets of the city, the only distinguishing mark being the clasp on her cloak, which takes the form of what appears to be a skull with moth wings on either side.

The Pixie makes her way now through the city and to the home of its erstwhile ruler, knowing that he had put out a call for necromancers and dark mages to come and attend him for some deed no doubt most foul. This at minimum bore investigation, and potentially action. Especially after what had just transpired, any gathering of those who made a living off the creation and research of abominations was more than worthy of concern. Rainbow had long since given up on the reactive stance she'd taken some time in the past. Now, if someone was attempting to cause another widespread necromantic incident, she would be more than happy to head that off before it could begin.

But the ad had not specified the exact service that would be required - likely to keep concerns from its nature spreading - and thus it was left to her to pose as a more common necromancer, and find the truth of the matter personally. It was of no concern, she was prepared, and it would be a rare necromancer who could protect themselves from her in any case. Her only real concern was the Vampire King, but she wouldn't let that concern stop her at all. She had a duty to uphold, she reminded herself, as she finally reaches the gates of that most cursed of strongholds, the black heart that pumped diseased and cursed blood through the streets of this abominable city.

And then that girl lifted an arm, a pale hand like porcelain revealing itself from her sleeve, and knocked loudly upon the gate of the fortress of, no doubt, an immortal, ancient, and evil monster, before waiting patiently for him, or his servant, to attend her.

/|| When those great doors are opened for the Fae- she will not have to wait long for the first sign of evil. After all, bureaucracy is in full swing, a number of lines having been formed to sort out the petitioners out from those hopeful souls looking for work, those who might have pertinent details on the necropolis situation, and, lastly- necromancers. This latter line is likely the most sparse, given the news about the guild, and the animosity from the necropolis had done very little to inspire any sort of confidence. But, that doesn't mean Rainbow will be exempt from the time-honoured tradition of filling out paperwork, if only so it can be verified, filed- and the process renewed for a second round - and possibly even more, if there were errors in the filing. Convoluted? Undoubtedly, but it did wonders for dealing with anyone seeking to whinge about trivial matters, and was spectacular at both infuriating and tripping up would-be assassins, and other ne'er-do-wells.

Still, provided Rainbow doesn't decide to spontaneously throw herself out a window in response to a detailed request for their necromantic education, and their ties to any incidents, resolved or otherwise- she would eventually earn her audience. Or well, the promise of one, given she'd be led to a lounge area, complete with a small plate of baked goods (slightly stale), and a pot of tea (actually fresh). Maybe this was another waiting game, designed to see if she'd crack, or potentially incriminate herself. Or maybe Kas is just late, given he's still juggling the day to day matters of Vailkrin, and the process of interviewing other candidates.

||Truly a schemer, this tyrant. a master of the black arts, to turn to such dark and foul methods as bureau-ocracy in order to protect his schemes 'gainst the prying eyes of those who may gainsay him. This would not defeat her. She had fought foes much more onerous and distasteful than this, and it was not as if she was entirely unfamiliar with the process of meticulous paperwork-filing. Certain of the Dead were not so crippled and stunted that they could be directly bound such as those lesser abominations, and often such beings needed a finer hand to contend with than the more direct methods employed against those lesser lot.

So the heretic, for such she was to those who walked these blackened and rotted lands, made her way to the stunted lines, a glance which seemed no less deadly than a sharpened dagger the only response to any misbegotten practitioner that dared to question, or, in fact, to merely acknowledge her as she waited patiently for the line to move, for the questions to be made - answered, of course, both with as little specifics as could be provided, and with as much pomp and ego as could be mustered, for she was imitating the mien of a necromancer most profound and reclusive, the sort who may well not fear the reprisals of such a thing as a guild, having long since turned their eyes to their own unique brand of horror which needed no such company, the sort that felt in their position a sense of overwhelming superiority to any not themselves, for that lot was both selfish and maniacal to the extreme.

They'd get their answers. Rainbow had not participated in any recent atrocities, and they provided answers well enough to prove their mastery of the Art, most particularly phrased to leave no indication of their particular specialty, and, in time, they were taken to a lounge, where she would wait, not eating or drinking - what foolish creature would consume such trifles, in the very belly of the beast? what kind of such creature would not employ some subtle and fiendish tactic to dull the wits of those they were to deal with, or to stealthily entrap them into their employ through some sort of vampiric blood magic?

Kasyr does eventually arrived, though by this point, the scene has changed considerably. For one thing, the hospitality of the room had gradually lessened- in part due to the pot of tea growing cold, and then being cleared out- but largely, because a rather enterprising crow had fluttered into the room amidst one of the servants check ins, and promptly set to work at stealing the pastries whenever it thought Rainbow wasn't looking. That said, the pixies indifference to their gradual disappearance only served to embolden it- which is why the Kensai is greeted by the curious sight of a bird trying to drag a platter out the door with its beak, and a mess of scattered pastries on the ground.

"Fantastique." By comparison, he's somewhat more put together- sporting a finely tailored spider silk pants, a night sky blue dress shirt, and a comfortable dinner vest. Just, that's about where things end, because his hair is a ruffled mess, his belt is just his own tail looped around his waist, and his expression is just. Plain. Worn. The only animated part about him, is the cup of coffee slushing around in his left hand, which he continues to covet as he crosses the room to slip into a seat opposite of Rainbow. In his other hand, he sifts through a set of already crumpled notes, before starting with, "Miss Thunderwhale, then? What brings you to help Vailkrin? For that matter, how familiar are you with the current issues plaguing the city?" May as well feel out as much as he could about her, given the filed notes could only provide so much.

The crow would have been indulged during its initial crime spree of taking the stale baked goods, though... taking the platter itself probably wasn't going to fly - had to at least have a minimum amount of decorum - so a petite, pale white hand would reach out to intercept the platter upon the corvid attempting to drag it off of the table in an attempt to fly away with it and its inferior pastries. As such, Kasyr would likely walk in on the cloaked figure with the pastry tray having been collected and pulled in front of itself, a choice pastry in her hand, attempting to lure over the corvid with it as an offering, before looking up and seeing him walk in, at which point they very calmly and coolly return the food to the tray and place it back in the center of the table, obviously having not been doing anything such as attempting to bribe a local crow for information or anything of the like.

"Rainbow of Clan Thunderwhale, yes. I saw your posting looking to gather necromancers, which I found odd, considering that... your city... plays host to a not inconsiderable gathering of them which could have been petitioned... but evidentially either was not, or perhaps they were approached, and were simply disinclined to acquiesce to the Lord's request. As for the city's current circumstances, I picked up a newspaper on the way here, and that is mostly the extent of my current understanding." She was not here for the profusion of lesser dead which the city had become inundated with, as there were, quite simply, more pressing matters to be concerned with, and she had no interest in cooperating with the necromancer's guild in any case, so their politics were of even less concern.

Kasyr isn't really going to pay any mind to the fact that there's a feathered goblin now camping in the middle of a mound of pastries- since the combination of trying to feed it, and then leaving it to go free has since equated to permission to do as it pleases with the food. Instead, he focuses on what the pixie has to say, his expression relatively placid. It's only when shes' done, that he sets the cup on his lap and starts replying, "A fair number of them are tied to the guild- and I can confirm that the Necromancers guild, despite historically being a Vailkrin institute, has every intention of departing. Whether it's addressing the mindless undead that were created in the wake of the Caluss incident, or mitigating the damage being caused by the undead extremists in the necropolis- those matters are beneath them, I suppose you could say. Why work to save a continent, when you can save yourself, non?" There's a curtness there, and while some of this statement has been carefully cultivated- there's an underlying bitterness that is perhaps a bit more revealing than it ought to be.  Enough so, that he actually takes a moment to gather himself, the pause masked behind a deliberately prolonged sip of coffee. "There's a few things I need, but finding the right people for the right jobs is paramount. I don't need butchers- or people whose grand solutions amount to genocide" While there's a carelessness in the mention, the swordsman's attention is anything but- looking for a telltale sign of discomfort from his interviewee, given the sheer surfeit of candidates who'd offered up just that was disconcerting to say the least. Leave it to dark mages to try and pitch theoretical atrocities during desperate times. ...That does explain Larket, though. "So, what are your skills? Try et be specific, maybe provide some examples of how they might apply."

Well. That was... actually a rather pleasant surprise, all things considered. Turns out the seeming villain was actually... trying to -avoid- mass genocide? Well alright then, Rainbow supposes she can take this earnestly rather than as a potential excuse to cause widespread havoc and destruction before doing her best to get away in one piece.

"Lomadh an Luain ort, yes, that does sound like the kind of thing that cabal of atrocity-forgers would do."

Rainbow does not make it entirely clear whether she's talking about the offers of genocide or the fact that the Necromancer's guild seems intent on pissing off at the first opportunity. To be honest, this was because it applied equally well to both.

"I practice the art of life and death. By clan taboo, I am foresworn from the creation of abominations, nor may I practice my arts upon any unwilling creature, other than in order to hunt down abominations and those who raise them. Our art is multifaceted and profound, and delves into many facets of the art your local idjits ignore for not helping with their unending quest to lie with corpses and try to find the fastest way to commit as much harm as possible upon the land.

Having ascertained that Kasyr was not, in fact, Dracula, and in fact didn't particularly like the necromancers -either-, Rainbow had apparently decided to just act naturally. Hell, it couldn't hurt.

"Ah, I've been wanting to do research on the intelligent Dead that started croppin' up after that last war we had, though things've been a bit... hectic. Specialty-wise... Manipulate life, alter flesh and heal wounds through the art, burn out rot and curses, and the like."

Kasyr is able to keep a relatively straight face through a good portion of Rainbows speech, until the point where she colourfully describes the guild's activity. It's about that point that a decidedly undignified spray of coffee exits his mouth, though he at least had the wherewithal to turn his head away from the pixie. Now stopping the chuckling, that takes a few moments. "Okay." There's a pause, at least until he feels like he has a relative handle on things, "Alright. So- I cannot promise you anything about the intelligent dead, unless your goal falls in line with observation, but, there's an absolute profusion of opportunities pertaining to the roving dead. An unfathomable amount have accrued in the city due to the recent incident, et I'm searching for individuals to help seperate them from their less sentient peers." The Kensai pauses here to gauge the faes' expression before he continues.

"From there, the goal is to ascertain which ones are irrevocably tainted by their origin. The tainted ones I'd like to see put to rest permanently, since I don't believe they have a right to commit harm." She's probably looking at him funny for that remark, but even if she isn't, he decides to clarify, just in case, "It's a talking point for the necropolis. Their paper is a ...delight." He looks absolutely thrilled, doesn't he? In any case, there's still more to go over, and thus, "Those that aren't tainted, I would like to see guided elsewhere. Specifically, the caves within the dead forest. Given the incident in Trist'oth- they don't have the same network of slaves that once served as the backbone of their industry, nor is their military as expansive.

What's more, their traditional means of replenishing said industry isn't really available to them- given they are relying on the generosity of the states that they'd normally prey on. Which es to say? There's a lot of cave space that can be mined- which helps a lot when you're trying to fund repairs for a city." Simple, pragmatic, and it's not like the drow endear themselves to most people. "That said, there are smaller projects at play as well. I've been looking for a curse specialist, en fait. I've been looking for someone capable of either performing, or creating a derivative of an existing rite to weaken a curse. The problem being, failure would be lethal to the recipient." And that's the extent of what he wants to say, until Rainbow has time to sift through everything he just said.

Rainbow is relatively polite, letting him clear the coffee out of his mouth, get himself back in order, and then explain his entire position on the situation, even remaining silent for a good period after as she seemingly mulls over the implications and considerations involved.

"I cannae help you with puttin' the Dead to work. Touches on tabboo, an' generally isn't a safe decision in any case, bein' that if they're not feral 's a mite disrespectful, them being victims an' all, and if they are, safest course'd be purging. As for inspections, aye, that I can do. Bein' that ol' mhic an damnaidh seems tae be well an' truly out of the picture, might even be able tae save a few o' lesser affliction, tho the process wouldn' exactly be pleasant."

That was about as much as she could promise regarding that issue. it was true, binding the dead would be unacceptable, and leaving them unbound unsafe. Those with remnant cognition may be nurtured, but by tradition, the rest would need to be burned, either out of respect or pragmatism.

"More positively, if'n ya need a curse burned out, I'm your girl. Won't be fun and games for the patient, an' I doubt I could use yer rite as-is, considerin' that it's probably put together by some gobshite who can't see the soil fer the corpses, aye? Rework the thing, adjust fer Free Magic, an' run some trials, shouldn't be a problem at all, long as they don't mind a bit o' the ol' soul-scarrin' torment."

Kasyr looks thoughtful as Rainbow details what she can and can't do in regards to the cities immediate needs. While the supplementary work force and income was a problem he'd yet to solve, his primary concern was mitigating whatever risk factors he could- ideally in as ethical a manner as possible, so as to avoid any incidents, "Alright. Stick to the inspections for now, we should have existing notes et samples for what you're looking for. prioritize seeking out the corrupted et purging them. Don't stray into the necropolis to do this, however. That's a problem for a different day." Such as when he finally gets Lanlans' phantasmal pied piper to take a nice long march to an isolated area. "As for the mindless undead which have escaped corruptions touch- we'll play that by ear." The kensai pauses to take another sip of coffee, deliberating over what to address next. "If you have colleagues that could work with you on this, that would help, but otherwise- I'd like to see you take on this task, so I can better gauge if how much assistance you might need." That, and if she was competent, she could double as a filter for more questionable applicants, "Obviously, you'd be compensated for your time et efforts." But that didn't address the matter of the curse, did it? At this juncture, when the alternative was making a Faustian deal- a little disclosure seemed altogether palatable, "Provided you can do this task well, I can have a dossier prepared for you. I would prefer that any research or progress you make based on it be strictly between us, s'il-te-plait. It -is- something that could be misused."