RP:Conversation with the King

Part of the Venturil's Bane Arc

This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.

In the Palace of Rheven, King of Venturil

Tenebrae had spent the apparently interminable wait forced upon her by the King of Venturil amusing herself at the expense of several neatly uniformed palace guards, whom she’d sent – via various umbral japes - tromping off on more than one wild goose chase this eve and thus were all now wearing expressions ranging from befuddled to plain furious. Bored with it, now, Tene vented her chagrin by taking divots out of the lovely marble flooring with her sharp heels as she paced back and forth, muttering.

Rheven has heard word of Tenebrae's appearance from numerous guards and other informants, but chosen to neglect such reports until now. The doors to his personal chamber close shut with a telltale 'click' in his wake, leaving the archmage traveling down the halls toward the grand staircase. Only when Tenebrae comes into vision does he allow the ghost of a smirk to tug at his pallid lips. "My apologies in keeping you waiting..." He calls out from above, steps gradually leading to his descent to the bottom floor. "...But I've had other business to tend to. It has been quite some time, Tenebrae. You aren't really the type to visit an old -friend- for the sake of it...so I question why you are here."

Tenebrae's lower lip protruded in a pout as she took a seat on the lowest of those stairs. "I've been here hours. And of course I am the type to visit.. an old.." she coughed, changing the subject. "Anyway, I thought it best you were informed. That there's a monster. Under your nation, chewing away at the land itself. And I want it."

Rheven lifts a brow at the sudden request, his robed arms coming to cross against his chest. "So there is. I sensed a malevolent presence beneath the surface some time ago, but I've had few feasible plans to extract it without causing a great deal of damage. I suspect it is the very thing that keeps Venturil as barren as it is..." He trails off with that for a moment, appearing rather pensive. "...Something insidious that sucks the life out of this place and allows nothing to grow, despite the fact that weather conditions are nothing like a desert or true wasteland. Why do you want it? How do you propose to remove it?"

Tene patted the stair above her, inviting the arch-mage to sit a spell .. no pun intended.. since explanation could take a while. Swivelling about on her own step-seat, the Necromancer leaned her back on the stair-case’s opulent banister-rail, and sighed softly, wondering where to begin. "You have sensed correctly. And are fortunate, in that you have not attempted its destruction." Whether Rheven sat or not, she would meet his green gaze with her own peridot eyes, all levity fleeing her expression. "It is vast. And .. if I'm right about it, and I do believe I am .. it has been sleeping all these many centuries during which Venturil has fed it, and hidden it from view. What I do not believe is that there is any feasible way to kill it. Not all of it, permanently, as it is probably close to being a part of the land itself now.. Nor is there any expedient way to remove it, but.." she raised her forefinger, "I think I have a way to make it behave itself. So to speak." Tene blinked gently. "There's quite a tale behind all this. And much for you to know. If you've time?"

Rheven declines the seat, opting to remain standing for the moment. "Is that so? Anything could be killed, of that I am certain, but what you mean, then, is that it is beyond mortal capability to feasibly destroy." At the mention of a tale, a very different expression warps his features - it almost looks perplexed, if he would actually allow himself to appear that way in all of his pride and arrogance. "Well then, proceed, and tell me what you know."

Tenebrae nodded as to the correctness of Rheven's former assumption, "It may be destroyed, but.. well, imagine for a moment attempting to dig a very complex vein of minerals out of the ground without disturbing anything. The Burrower.. as I call it ... must have grown throughout the ages to cover - what? - almost half the entirety of this nation. And all this time it's been asleep, in a way. Dormant. Though lately it's been stirring, and hence it's come to the fore of our awareness. I am sure you've heard of the mysterious deaths.. the bodies found dried like husks." Tene shook her head, "It is a vampiric creature, built on principles almost lost to this world now. Proto-flesh, most resilient. Before you, even you with your vast magical talents, could put a dent in it, it would rage, Rheven. It would rise up, and rage - and disembowel your nation in the process. So, now perhaps you understand why I am glad you have not made the attempt." Peridot eyes peered at him as if to discern whether he was still following the meander of her explanation. "As for the tale.. Now, not many if anyone left alive in Lithrydel would have heard even the faintest whisper regarding Aranoch the Damned, Scourge of Shadowside, also known as Rift-walker. Millennia ago, he dared to rip holes in the very fabric of time and space. And what fell through those holes.. what chaos he created in this world and others," she shuddered at the knowledge, ".. was unspeakable. He was native to Venturil, once, and fortunately his .. projects .. were discovered before it was too late. A council of mages banished him into one of his own rifts, and the rift sealed ever after behind him. As far I have found, his name and works were stricken from every page, all recorded history. But that was not the end of Aranoch… which is a tale for another time. But suffice to say here that before he went, Aranoch summoned through the rifts something... terrible indeed. And he took it in, and nourished it. Here, in Venturil." A slightly forked tongue flickered loose from her mouth to dampen Tene's lips, dry from all this talking. “Proto-flesh, vampirised and enslaved, manipulated with necromancy and dire alchemies into a suitable shape, given orders.. But then its master was banished, and with nobody left to control it..." her brows raised, as if to say Rheven ought to get the point. "In my most recent .. travels.. I learned a great deal, including knowledge which may allow mastery of this creature. I hope to control it, fool it into believing me its master and turn it to my own purposes. Or make its destruction a little bit more possible, if that doesn’t work.." Of course, said her expression, there was much more to all this but Tene paused there, allowing Rheven space for response.

Rheven listens quietly, nodding at intervals and ending with a soft hum of thought that passes through his lips. It's quite a bit of information to process, after all, and it's another several pensive moments before he offers up a reply. "Then it's not far from what I assumed it to be. I could sense it was enormous in presence, in more ways than one...but my talents do not lie in magicks and creations of the netherworlds, as yours do. If you think you can fool it, be my guest, though I am certain there are risks to doing such." His snowy haired head tilts slightly, crossing into further contemplation of this creature. "It is strange, really. As it has grown, so has its hunger and needed for sustenance, I am sure. Like any other creature, it cannot live when it has nothing more to feed off of. Since the land itself is already barren, perhaps that is why the corpses are turning up as well. I do not know what it will do when its hunger flares and there is nothing else to consume, but I fear it will be quite a calamity when that time comes...so dealing with it before that can happen is paramount, of course."

Tenebrae listened gravely to everything Rheven said, but at his final words allowed a wry little smile to part her lips, revealing twin rows of neat and pointed teeth. "Hence my impatience with all this waiting about you’ve made me do." She lifted a hand to the back of her neck, rubbing it, "And you're giving me headache, standing up there." This levity offered the grim conversation, the Necromancer continued, "You are astute indeed as to the urgency of the situation. I have seen the Burrower, and captured a tiny portion of it which has confirmed my suspicions. The tests I shall carry out this very night may indeed provide a safer means of containing the rest of it. But even my knowledge is scant, so I will not be able to do this alone. I have my necromancers and a few hardy souls besides, but what I need, Rheven is ... bait. Lots of it. Mages, healers, people redolent with the kind of flesh this creature was born to devour. And if I can't.." she winced at the thought of failure, "Contain it, they may provide aid in destroying whatever of the creature we can before it burrows deep and goes dormant again. It can regenerate... " she glanced down to her left hand, its slightly dark skin. "In time, it will grow back, if you even leave the tiniest portion of it behind. So pray to the Dark Lord, arch-mage, that we can excise it like a canker, all in one piece." Her head tilted, her gaze glinting in the palace's effulgent candlelight. "If I can contain it, though, I will enslave it. There are .. uses.. for such dark matter, and thus I would ask your permission for me to create a hall for my necromancers here in Venturil." Another moment of levity, now, as she grinned once more. "We could be neighbours..."

Rheven tips his head in a nod, his robed arms slacking back closer to his sides. "I'm sure we can gather enough souls that are bold enough to draw the creature's attention. They may require some prodding with gold or other incentives, but it can be done. That won't be difficult." The talk of a necromancer hall brings a pale brow quirking, however, and his eyes narrow in slight; a contrast to her more mirthful expression. "That is quite a request. I have been short on my ability to trust those that toil with such negative or otherwordly energies. I may be willing to work with you on this, but firstly I will ask that you attempt to handle this beast beneath the surface. Assist me in this, and I'll have no objection to your hall."

The Necromancer's smile was far too cheerful; there was something, clearly, she wasn't about to share with the King, but there was no sign of duplicity or threat in that expression. "It's a deal." Grasping the rails, Tene hauled herself to her feet. "As for incentives… I was gone quite a while, Rheven. And all my properties.. " her gaze darkened a moment, ".. fared not well, in Vailkrin. So I'm a bit short of cash." Her lashes fluttered, a whimsical appeal for the arch-mage to get the hint.

Rheven waves off that concern with a literal gesture of the hand. "I have more than enough. There is also the mage guild, with quite a few capable spell casters. I am sure they will jump at the chance to cease their boredom, if nothing else." A short pause follows, "Is that all you need, then? You need these others before you can proceed?"

Tenebrae said, "I need to do these tests. And I need to consult my necromancers, measure whether they are up to this onerous task. But soon, Rheven yes. Very soon.. perhaps, though, if you, yourself would instruct the Mage’s Guild to help.. " she studied the shine on the banister, "As I'm not sure all of them would offer me aid out of sheer kindness. Ah, and we’ll need provisions at hand, for those who do come. And..." finally, she looked up. "Perhaps you and your wife will deign to have further discussion with me. I have missed her, Rheven. Both of you... but her, more."

Rheven is quite quick to reassure, "I will offer them the compensation they will surely earn. It is not -just- monetary reward, after all." He doesn't elaborate on that, instead catching onto Tenebrae's new train of thought. Any amusement that might have been on his features is heavily tempered, leaving one that borders on melancholic. "Yes, indeed. Thea is quite busy with affairs in Enchantment at the time being...that is why you have not seen her about. But I'm confident she will lend a hand - both her own and her guilds' - to this little predicament."

"Tell her I said.. well, tell her I hope to see her, soon." Even here, in the palace of a revenant King, the Necromancer carried an aura that seemed very out of place, an otherworldly and chill energy so manifest it may as well have shrouded the place in a fell mist. Perhaps sensing the general level of discomfort among Rheven's men and courtiers alike, she offered the Hall a sweeping glance, that sharp and scissoring grin displayed again. "Anyway. Best I be off, I suppose. Before any more of Venturil's finest need a change of trousers."

One or two of the guards nearest the door flinched, at those words.

Rheven 's characteristic smirk returns once more. "Perhaps you should. I will be certain to let Thea know when I next see her. But until then...keep tabs on this creature and inform me if you sense anything...unpredictable from it. I will gather those you require in the meantime." He sets a foot on the staircase and allows his gaze to linger on her a moment longer before dismissing his attention. "Good eve, Tenebrae." Nothing left to be said, the vampiric king ascends the staircase and vanishes from sight.