RP:An Offer You Can Refuse

From HollowWiki

Part of the Rise of Larket Arc


Summary: Kelovath visits House D’Artes on a political mission to assess the health of the alliance between Larket and Trist’oth. He finds Tiphareth absent and in his stead a very different drow with narrow, bloodlusty goals. Gevurah taunts Kelovath by offering to kill fermin in exchange for him killing the elf refugees that Larket has taken in. The paladin refuses and the meeting abruptly ends. Throughout the visit, the sentient and holy katana Tenbatsu Kaji, property of House D’Artes, calls to the paladin, begging to be freed.

Trist’oth Tavern

Kelovath had never ventured down into the Drow city known as Trist’oth. He knew quite well how the dark elves acted though and being a paladin, surely a warm welcome wouldn’t be the case. To at least attempt some discrete measure, a cloak wrapped itself entirely around the still armored paladin. Excluding his feet, every piece of his golden armor would be covered. The same went with his companion, who also happened to be a paladin. This man was directly from Larket and had been to Trist’oth before. And even better, was that the man could get Kelovath quite close to where he needed to go. The two of them had planned on entering the tavern at night, thinking that would help them get in with less attention drawn. What they forgot though was the fact that Trist’oth was always dark. As far as sunlight, anyway. Upon entering the tavern, there were at least six, maybe seven other patrons already drinking and having what sounded like an extremely good time. The two paladin’s were unnoticed for the time being, thanks to the loud group. “The bar.” Kelovath said simply, thinking it would be best to actually stay away from the dark corners of this establishment. Both men sat at the bar, got a not so nice look from the barkeeper, but was still able to order a couple of drinks. Gold coins seemed to do the best talking, really. Kelovath’s companion paid for the drinks, as well as adding a few extra coins to the small payment. “I’d like some information, if possible.” This time, it was the fellow paladin who spoke. The barkeep took the coins rather quickly and gave a long look around the tavern. Deciding that whatever threat in the tavern was not there, he nodded. "Whatcha need to know?" Kelovath and the other paladin both gave a small smile. It seemed things were looking up.


Gevurah D'Artes doesn't frequent this dump. She's not here until she needs to be. The barkeep grows nervous as he speaks in the common tongue of the surface. Speaking anything but drow 'round these parts has a way of inspiring spies, particularly those that serve the noble houses. For now, Kelovath and his companion have luck on their side. Normally a spy of House D'Artes would be stationed here, but the first house's attention looks outward, away from the city, and there are gaps in the surveillance of the tavern. This is one of those gaps, and the barkeep knows it. It's the only reason he even risks talking to them. His fear is palpable. Political dissent or snitching on the noble houses is punished by death.


Kelovath did not speak. He didn't need to at this point. Nobody here would actually listen to him anyways, more than likely. The companion continued to speak to the barkeep in a hushed tone, only seeking one bit of information. "I...We are seeking House D'Artes." There was a damn good chance Kelo's companion completely butchered the pronunciation, and with the way the paladin of Arkhen turned slightly from the conversation made it that much more apparent. The barkeep paused for quite a long time, along with narrowed his gaze a bit more while looking at the companion. "Uh huh..." From the look of it, the barkeep thought the pair were stupid. And crazy. That was the exact expression given. It didn't take long for Kelo's partner to slide a few more coins onto the bar-top. Like the gold didn't really matter, the barkeep simply said two words. "Straight north." He had started to walk away at that point, but decided to grab the coins while he had the chance. Gold is gold, after all. Once the presumed owner of the estblishment walked away to serve a drow who had also came up to the bar, Kelovath and his partner thought it would be best to head north. Whether the information was correct or not, there had nothing else to go off of. So, hoping to stay out of sight and to not draw any attention, they headed north. Hopefully to House D'Artes. From what Kelovath remembered, it felt like this would not continue to be this easy.


House D’Artes

Kelovath and his companion would immediately know their information was correct. The ostentatious estate is not discreet. They could have saved themselves the gold by walking through the streets and stopping at the biggest, gaudiest house--pillars and butresses, gargoyles and demons, dim faerie light in the manifold arched windows. Dozens of soldiers protect the massive gothic estate. Archers stand sentry up high in parapets with bows slung over their shoulders, though they are hard to discern in the dark save for their glowing red eyes. A few of the guards wear robes suggesting they are magic casters. Two armored drow stand before the wrought iron gates and eye the paladins suspiciously. One signals in the hand language of the drow. Behind him, down the dimly-lit walkway and in the foyer, a junior soldier reads the finger movement's by their heat signature, then passes on the message: foreigners, holy, human. The city's xenophobia is well advertised on the surface. It may have been easy for the paladins to get in, but it will be much harder for them to escape. After a few minutes a drow wearing expensive leather armor and a lush burgundy piwafwi jogs down the walkway. He's not very tall, as few drow are, but he is well-built and poised. His perfect posture make him appear taller than he actually is, and his permanent scowl menaces any who look upon hs handsome face. Through the gate he barks at thepaladin pair in a heavily accented common, "State your business here."


Quite simply, Kelovath stepped forward and replied to the drow. "I am seeking an audience with Tiphareth D'Artes involving political matters between Trist'oth and Larket." Although the large number of guards put the man in a tense state, he remained confident and his posture is perfect. The fellow paladin did in fact look a bit nervous, but at the very least attempted to hide it. Kelo was able to make out a few whispered words coming from the man and one word in particular was Arkhen. Although Arkhen was a good thing, in the current situation, it could make things complicated.

Throne Room

The guards say nothing in response to his request, but one of them does turn to relay the message deeper into the estate. Several minutes later a drow dressed in soft clothes and sporting the hair style that denotes a commoner elevated in status by his non-slave service to a noble house, approaches the gate and the paladins. He speaks to them in a refined accent of the common tongue. "I am Izzerin, Chamberlain of House D'Artes. Patron Tiphareth no longer takes audiences. Political matters go through Gevurah D'Artes, First Daughter of Keter D'Artes, High Priestess of Vakmatharas." The gates open. "She will see you in the throne room. Follow me." He leads them down the walkway to the foyer where guards, mages and combat soldiers alike inspect them for any trap or other treachery. Notably, they are not stripped of their weapons. In this estate, the belief is that it doesn't matter whether or not a visitor wields a sword for their powerlessness is assumed to be total either way. On display in the foyer are three legendary swords, two elven twin blades and one katana. After the inspection, Izzerin leads the paladins to the throne room. The main throne across from the entrance is empty. Along the right side wall Gevurah sits on the tallest, centermost throne. She wears a black corset and full skirt and darkly hued jewelry, the classic look of drow matrons of yore. Live serpents writhe at her hip, their tails fused together and embedded in the admantite handle of a whip. Glowing red eyes peer through the darkness at the paladins. She says nothing, as is her way when meeting strangers. She waits for them to reveal their hand first.


The two paladin's both greeted Izzerin after his own introduction. The knowledge of Tiphareth no longer taking audiences made Kelovath a bit weary. He would never call the Lich a friend, but when it comes to political matters, especially with the Drow, it could be a bit unnerving. And unfortunately for Kelovath, he did not know anything about Keter D'Artes. They followed the Drow through the main part of the house until seeing the three weapons. Kelovath actually stopped in his place once seeing the katana, his head also canting to the side ever-so slightly. No matter what magic, if there happened to be any, could dilute the full power of the weapon. Being a paladin, the man could absolutely feel the sword bascially yelling at him. It wanted to be free from this dark prison. The companion paladin nudged Kelo a bit, which snapped him from that daze. "Sorry..." He mumbled and continued farther into the building. Now being in the throne room, the paladin's knew something was a bit off. The decorations and the fire were the likely culprits. Spotting Gevurah on her throne was quite something as well. Stepping toward the Drow, Kelovath bowed slightly at the waist, as did his partner shortly after. "Greetings, Matron Gevurah. High Priestess of Vakmatharas. I am Kelovath Khasmin, of Larket." He made no attempt to introduce his partner. He was here only as support. It was after his own introduction, did the two paladin's actually lift from their bow, showing a great deal of respect, should the Drow see it that way. From there, he waited.


Gevurah recognizes a subordinate when she sees one, and thus doesn't inquire after the second paladin. He's a lackey; she understands this despite the differences in drow and surface cultures. Hierarchy weaves a common thread through both societies. She nods at their bows. So far so good. "You are also a servant of a god." She can feel that as easily as Kelovath felt Tenbatsu Kaji's will. An orb of faerie light floats around the paladins but their cloaks hide the insignias of Arkhen. "Tell me what god." Her rich sonorous voice fills the enormous cavern. It is the voice of a woman accustomed to giving orders, addressing crowds, leading rituals. Her accent sounds thick it must on some level be purposefully maintained. It reveals a disinterest with assimilating to the ways of the surface. Far too many drow believe the surface is superior to the Underdark. Gevurah is not one of those drow.


Kelovath, even within the throne room, could continue to feel the power of Tenbatsu Kaji. The weapon truly was calling the paladin and would do anything to be set free. Keeping his composure for the time being, the paladin stood in place and replied honestly. “Arkhen. We both follow Arkhen.” His own voice did not shake. Nor did it give off any uncertainty at all. He would always proudly announce the being responsible for giving him life and making each day worth living. Wanting to move to his real for being here, the topic was changed. “A few years ago, Tiphareth D’Artes and myself, had an agreement. Larket would remain distant from Trist’oth, and Trist’oth would do the same. I was sent by the council of Larket, to make sure that agreement stands. If this, Peace Treaty, does not fulfill your desire, Matron Gevurah, then negotiations can be made.” Again, his voice showing the ability of commanding and presence, but in a much more subtle way than the Drow.


Gevurah's lip curls in distaste at the name Arkhen. It isn't personal to her, but she tolerates few of the 'good' gods. They counteract the powers of Vakmatharas, her chosen deity. The paladin talks about the desire of Larket and Gevurah's eyes narrow. Tiphareth and Keter both had an infatuation with the surface that Gevurah did not inherit. "Why does Larket send you now." She intones questions like statements. "I hear nothing of Larket in years. Neither I, nor any other drow of rank, have set foot in Larket in years. Larket jumps nervously now, sends you. Tell me why."


Kelovath takes note of the Drows use of words. It wasn't often he encountered Drow, but of the ones he knew, they didn't seem so angry. There was something in her voice that drew it out. Though, knowing she followed Vakmatharas actually made the paladin confident. Having his partner with him, who also follows Arkhen, solidified that confidence. "Nervous seems to be the right word, from my experience. The Fermin who sleep beneath Larket, and most of the surface, are now attacking openly. Even each other. As I'm sure you may know, rats re-populate rather quickly. They are becoming more aggressive with every passing day. The council of Larket..." He paused a moment, once again feeling the tug of Tenbatsu Kaji. "The council thought it would be wise to reevaluate current and past alliances. Many of the cities have grown quiet, so, to be completely honest with you, I believe the council is more curious than anything." He gave a shrug, doing what he could to appear casual about the whole thing. "And like I have shared with a few other leaders within Hollow, I seek the throne of Larket. Should the council allow me, of course." At the mention of possible rulership, the paladin's posture changed dramatically. His back straighted, arms completely level with his side. Hell, he might even look a bit King-ly.


Gevurah nods slowly at the mention of fermin. The news doesn't seem to surprise her, but her understanding of Larket's problem is superficial. No sympathy from this devil either. Larket could fall to the fermin and she wouldn't bat an eye. "An aspiring king," she murmurs. Slowly her shoulders shrug as she considers his message. A hand fans open in a gesture that communicates 'and what not?' She says, "And what do you want. My backing? What's in it for me. I am struggling to see why any of this matters to the drow." Before he can respond she lifts a hand and says, "One moment." She pulls a pair of metallic balls from the folds of her dress and shakes them in her palms. They rattle and shriek like cicadas. Izzerin appears soon after. She signals to him in the hand-language of the drow then turns her attention back to Kelovath. "Izzerin will return soon with a ledger detailing the current trade terms between Larket and Trist'oth. Go on."


Kelovath didn't take offense to the spoken words. Although unfamiliar with this kind of conversation, politics and such, the paladin remained confident. The annoying shrieks were ignored and his attention, for but a moment, was drawn to Izzerin. He gave the drow a nod, simply out of habit and looked back to the high priestess. "More than anything, Larket wishes to stay out of your way. During the Sage war, Larket did not help either side. We seek to continue that agreement. You leave us be and we will do the same. Besides that, there is the matter of the trade terms, which I suppose we will be more able to discuss with Izzerin's return." Not really sure what else to speak about, the paladin kept quiet for bit and upon doing so, felt a huge surge of holy energy coming from the room with Tenbatsu. His gaze narrowed and before stopping himself, he asked, "That katana you have back there, "Motioning toward the door the two paladin's entered from. "Where did you get it?"


Kelovath's real disadvantage in negotiating politics with Gevurah is that he cannot appeal to her morals, for she has none; her empathy, for she lacks it; or even pitch relationship-building exercises in good faith, for her faith is only wicked. Izzerin opens the ledger to the right page and sets it before his master. The paladin mentions that Larket stayed out of her way in the war and she shrugs casually as she flips through the trade ledger. "I owe you no back pay for that. Larket was wise to stay out of my way. Ah, here. I see we move marble for you from dark granite quarries." She taps an entry in the ledger. "Larket does love its marble." Her head still bent towards the tome, her gaze flicks up at Kelovath when he mentions Tenbatsu Kaji. "A dead elf," she replies. "A proposition: our cities trade enemies. Your city has taken in elven scum on the surface, where my soldiers have a disadvantage. The fermin scurry through the underdark and evade your swords, fighting in terrain where your soldiers have a disadvantage. You kill the elves, and I'll kill the fermin. I'll halve the price of dark marble we sell to Larket to sweeten the terms of trade."


The paladin would obviously never agree to such a thing. And he verbalized it. "Not going to happen. The elves are within Larket because of a debt that needed paid. I will not have them killed. Nor would I ever ask for you to kill the fermin. They do not need exterminated. They need controlled." The marble was nothing. Plenty of other places to get it. "Currently, the elves are helping Larket with the fermin, so eliminating their help and only the possibility of your help, is obviously not in the best interest of Larket." Kelovath was starting to grow irritated with this Drow. "Larket is off-limits to any Drow attempting to kill the elves that seek refuge there."


Gevurah blinks once, then cackles at Kelovath's reasoning. It takes her by surprise--not that he won't kill the elves; she knew that. But his reasoning, so calculated and shrewd. No breath spent on the sanctity of life, of the triumph of good over evil, or the 'right' of elves to their homes. Debts, fermin control, elves as foot soldiers in the war on rats. It's the same type of logic Gevurah employs in her own politics. "I didn't expect to find a mirror in your face, paladin. If you ever want to convert to worshipping Vakmatharas, you have the talents He can mold into greatness." She slaps the ledger shut in her lap and takes a quick, sharp, and final breath. "I have no quarrel with Larket. The trades stay as they are." As for drow entering Larket, she makes no comment. "May Vakmatharas guide your blade." Apparently the meeting is over. Her lips are stretched thin into a grimace edging on a smile, but not quite.


Kelovath actually rolls his eyes at the mention of converting his faith. As much as he'd love to get into the debate, now was obviously not the time. An attempt to think of any other reason to continue the meeting swept across the paladin's mind. There truly wasn't any reason. Well, the sword, but again, not the time. This was purely a political visit and he wanted it to stay that way. With a few steps backward, the paladin bowed at the waist, his partner copied, and Kelovath spoke, "May Arkhen bring you peace." The parting words were kind of out of spite, but he would have said the same thing to anyone, really. The pair of paladin's both turned and headed for the only exit they knew. It would be a long trip back to Larket.


Gevurah rises from her throne and walks into the wall behind it. It shimmers faintly then swallows her whole. In the foyer, Tenbatsu Kaji screams for Kelovath to take it with him. The enchanted iron cage rattles. Guards stand at the ready, unsure of what this could mean. The sword has never moved before. A mage-guard rushes forward and murmurs a quick prayer. The cage goes still.