RP:Conversations In the Hanging Corpse

From HollowWiki

Part of the Venturil's Bane Arc


This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.


Hanging Corpse Tavern

This once-timber tavern has been rebuilt in sturdily vitrified blackstone and imbued with powerful protective magics that prevent occult fire and several other potentially harmful spells being cast within its walls. No effort has been spared to make what might otherwise be a bleak interior comfortable. The bar is made of polished stone with an oaken inlay, the space behind filled with a bustle of attractive barmaids, sundry barrels and a dazzling array of coloured bottles that glint in the light cast by a large wrought-iron candelabrum suspended from the ceiling overhead. Here, the one-eyed Steadman stands, ready to take orders for food or drink. Beyond the bar, stout tables are firmly bolted to the floor, though the high-backed chairs are freestanding. The hearth is a true feature, seeming to be cast from black lava into the shape of a colossal, laughing goblin's head, its maw gaping wide and deep, usually containing a merrily crackling fire. A delicious scent of roasting meats drifts in from the kitchens and a winding staircase leads to rooms upstairs. To the south are set cellar doors, usually kept locked unless a special event is taking place. The walls are hung with thick, richly woven tapestries depicting persons and events in the history of Vailkrin and the Vampiric race. There's also a notice-board near the entrance, where one may leave messages. Unobtrusive but ever-present are the security staff, staunch fighters ever ready to toss troublemakers out.

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Larewen steps into the establishment, skirts carefully lifted with a gloved hand. An albino bat follows her in, likely disappearing to settle somewhere along the ceiling. The elf clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth then, dark eyes roaming over the rather empty establishment. It's a familiar sight for her sore eyes, and draws upon both cheerful and painful recollections. After what seems to be a while, the sorceress guides herself to one of the many vacant tables and, with a straightened posture, seats herself. One leg crosses over the other, her back kept from touch the chair, as she beckons over one of the barmaids.


Somewhere in the midst of those gathered carcasses, corpse Jockeys (read: necromancers) and other undesirable elements that the tavern calls its' patrons rests the Revenant, cozily nestled up against the bar. At a glance, the Trenchcoated Kensai doesn't particularly stand out, save for the particular bundle of snow white fur that's curled up on one of his shoulders in the form of a cat. Not that he seems to really take much notice, since his attention seems focused on the bundle of papers strewn before him. That, and the small mountain of discarded cigarettes and empty glasses which seem to be serving the roles of paper weights.


Larewen is parting her lips to place an order when, finally she notes someone of potential interest. Off-handedly, the elf orders a glass of bloodwine, dark eyes narrowing slightly behind her veil to study the figure seated at the bar, and the feline roosted on his shoulder. Her attempts at learning more about the lands more recent history has been for naught, but that doesn't discourage the sorceress now. Rising from her feet, she approaches Kasyr, a clearing of her throat used in attempt to draw his attention. After all, to immediately begin discourse with one who's face is buried in parchment is rude, is it not? What if he's in middle of a sentence, or something of that sort?


Kasyr doesn't turn around at first, not until it dawns on him that Larewen is patiently standing behind him. A slight tilt of his head towards her only confirms his thoughts, something which prompts him into turning towards her. From there, he takes a moment to withdraw the cigarette currently hanging from his lips, before snuffing out the stub against the parchments resting before him. Further examination of the parchment would indicate that this has been far from the first time this has occured. "Oui?" Casper, the cat on his shoulder, doesn't seem to be lazily lounging anymore- the felines attention now fully focused upon the Larewen. "That is to say... Yes?"


Furan pushes the doors into the tavern and walks inside. Making hardly a sound the masked fellow walks to the news board of the tavern first. Reading over the same ol drabble as yesterday. He then turns back and heads to an empty table. He draws the seat out and sits, placing his back to a wall, and in a section that would allow him a full view of the other patrons. When the barmaid goes over to him to take his order, the masked man remains silent and still. Almost as if he were made of stone, carved sitting in the seat.


Larewen watches with a slightly raised brow as the revenant extinguishes his cigarette on the very parchment he's reading, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. What blatant disregard for the scroll! Then, he acknowledges her verbally and her eyes return to him as lips part to voice a query, "Pardon my interruption, but I was curious: are you privvy to the things that have changed in say, the last few years? Particularly, since the days before the Ascended walked among the mortal?" It's a long shot, perhaps, and certainly far more direct than her attempts with the past few people.


Kyperion stepped into the tavern and looked around, before smiling. The vampire lady from the other day was there, with a small....cat...thing, which looked vampiric and dangerous in an understated way. Waving, he made his way over.


Kasyr finds himself being poked (pawed) vigorously by Casper, which coaxes him into turning his head towards her. That being said, the cat isn't looking at him. Following the felines gaze, the Revenant takes note of the -smouldering- tax documents resting in front of him. "Hold that thought." With a grimace, the kensai grabs the paper and folds it into a conical shape, before shaking out the accumulated detritus into one of the empty glasses nearby. From there, he stuffs one of the glasses on top of the smouldering portion of scroll, than redirects his attention to Larewen, "I'm not exactly a historian, Madamoiselle, so I can't exactly tell you about things that occured prior to the arrival of the Ascendi. Really, I only came here from Shesryn -during- their whole exile turned rampage. So, if your interest is purely vested in something before their time, I can't exactly help you. If you're looking for a bit of recent fair however, I can sum up the last few years for you." Drawing a closed hand over to his mouth, he clears his throat, then carefully intones, "We've had rampaging lesser gods, then they left. A psychotic Genocidal harbinger to a bunch of Time...lord..things? J'en sais pas. Anyways. Then a rampaging chaos entity, then she left..or something. I'm still not clear on that. Oh. Et there was this Dread Lord, Solaris. That was all sorts of headaches to be in conflict with. He apparently was plucked out of the history books, ou quoi-ce-soit, et ...ran amok for a bit. Not really sure what happened with that, either." A pause, and then the Kensai added, "Then there was some more on-again-off-again stuff with that Psychotic Genocidal Harbinger over the last few years, especially after he became some sort of god..thingy? You might have heard of him. Vuryal, the Time Leech. Parasite. Bla bla, tu know?" A thoughtful Hmm, and Kasyr can't help but add, "And there was a hole in the Sky in Vailkrin for a while. That too." Interdimensional rift. Same difference.


Kasyr takes note of Kyperion at about this point, since he's an unfamiliar individual who is currently walking in his general direction, waving..and looking altogether pleased, "...In before Paperwork."


Larewen stifles a fit of laughter as the document catches fire, instead swallowing it with an apologetic look, should some strange noise escape her. As the revenant fights the small fire, the waving of the heretic from the night prior is noted and, with a lift and flick of a gloved hand, Kyperion is acknowledged. Then, Kasyr speaks and most of it fails to truly engage the woman's interest. She'd heard of Vuryal, even before the Ascendi. Another name he mentions -does- catch the sorceress' interest though and for a moment, her eyes widen. "Solaris returned?" Familiarity, perhaps on a personal level, can be noted in the incredulity of her tone. Kasyr has definitely provided the sorceress with a large portion of the information she seeks. After all, most of her time here was prior to the Ascendi.


Kyperion approached Larewen with a confidence he didn't have before. "My lady of Eventide," he greeted, quoting an obscure poem from Traumain. Turning, he bowed to the feline appearing vampire and pulled his hood back. "We've never run across one another. I'm Kyperion. The lady here and I were just acquainted the other night. How do you fare?"


Furan does his best to stifle his own laugh.


Kasyr doesn't have much to say at first, his expression briefly showing some degree of curiosity and confusion. Shaking his head, he simply snatches a nearby bottle of blood wine, before taking the nearest glass on the counter..and pausing. A brief moment is taken to scrutinize the small mountain of cigarettes he had filled the glass with, before he switches it out with one of other of the glasses strewn about his position. "Oui. Solaris, Shaelus, The turkey god. Whatever tu wanted to call him- he was..et I do stress was, here. He's since disappeared again, but while he was here, he was following through on some sort of..mission, ou quoi-ce soit. His mission brought him in conflict with some of the Ascendi's followers, at the time, as well as Vampires as a whole." A hapless shrug, and both the kensai and his cat direct their attention towards Kyperion, ears perked up and wiggling in some form of discordant unison, "Kasyr Azakhaer. C'est un plaisir. Which is to say, it's a pleasure, et all that. Et, I suppose I'm well...?" A scowl is shot towards the singed papers, "Mostly. If that was addressed to me."


Larewen redirects her attention to the heretic, brow quirked upward once more as her lips twist into a scowl. "I do hope you don't mean to imply that I'm a harlot, with your poor choice of words," she hisses, the words disguising an underlying threat should the male not tread carefully. The words are followed by Furan's attempt at holding back his laughter, which earn him a pointed glower from the sorceress before, once more, Kasyr's words draw her attention. Despite the revenant introducing himself to Kyperion, the elf feels at an advantage and offers, toward him, "I am called Larewen, by the way."


Furan offers the vampriss a single fingered gesture when she "glowers"at him keeping his quiet.


Kyperion shook his head strongly. "I implied no such thing! I was drawing a referance to this," he said, fishing a scroll out of a fold in his sari. "Here. As promised, works of literature from...that place. This one is a series of love poems to a mistress, seen only at night. And I am here," he said, shooting an odd glance at Kasyr, whose words made little sense to him, "to attempt to intrigue more, or merely spread awareness of the Nathali."


Kasyr offers a brief nod to Larewen, "It's a pleasure. Did I sufficiently slake your curiosity, by the way, or are tu in the process of..digesting that information." The Revenant than redirects his attention towards Kyperion, "Mistress seen only at night...? You know, I'm not exactly sure she shouldn't be offended, since the difference isn't all that... Er. Anyways. What's this Nathali, thing?" The revenant can't help but look slightly vexed, "It's not a god, is it?" Really, the Revenants had his fill of fighting gods and demi gods.


Larewen allows a delighted smirk to carry her lips upward when the human gestures at her, a flash of fang briefly visible. A mental note is taken of Furan, from his features, to his stature, to the way in which he holds himself. "I dare say, how rude of you. I hardly deserve such a gesture from a stranger," she states, matter-of-factly, before Kyperion and Kasyr draw her attention once more. When the scrolls are proffered, the sorceress greedily takes them, drawing them close to her body for later reading. And then, Kasyr's words draw a gentle peal of laughter from behind that veil. "If you say so, Kyperion," she remarks. "I'll read over them. At the worst, I might be forced to endure a little bit of smut." Kasyr's query leads to the woman lifting her chin slightly. "It's got to do with a deity."


Kyperion waved vaguely. "On a certain subcontinental island that I can't name, there's a cult worshiping Vakmatharas, and they've evolved into assassins. Not imaginative ones, but efficient. They have no sense of humor, and would like to be vampires, so that they can kill everything around them and then die themselves. The perfect death cycle. Anyway, they're making their way here, landing in Cenril, and I'm trying to stop them at the vampire stage of things. Hence, my presence in this bar." Kyp gave the smaller vampire a calculating look. "And you look like you've had your share of gods. Care to kill some acolytes?"


Furan 's attention is directed at Kyperion at the mention of the vampiric assassins. Though still not a word being said, it is very obvious that the newest of the trio now has this assassin’s attention.


Kasyr can't help but grin, with a sort of predatory air that might make a piranha’s smile seem comforting. Casper, the cat, takes a good look at him, before she simply shakes her head and sinks down on his shoulder, her gaze plummeting towards the floor, "Well, I suppose I ought to -properly- introduce myself then. Kasyr Azakhaer, Head of House Azakhaer...et King of Vampires. As it stands, a pack of individuals intent upon getting themselves turned, and than instigating an action that could be misconstrued as an act of war is definitely something that would be of interest to me."


Kasyr can't help but add an amendment, "King of vampires being more relevant to those factions present within Lithrydel. That being said, I do invite you to also contact Redhale, the ruler of Vailkrin’s undead quarters. Whilst he might be somewhat...abrasive, he may in fact appreciate the opportunity to mangle a pack of murderous vampiric acolytes."


Larewen quirks a brow upward, not at Kyperion's words, but rather at Kasyr's. "King of Vampires, you say?" she questions, bemusement slipping into her tone. As for the Nathali, and the cult of deathworshippers seeking immortality... well, the sorceress has already determined her role in that little fiasco: she has no qualms slaughtering them.


Larewen also makes note of the name Redhale, not only for the man's title, but because he may have knowledge that could be of use to the sorceress, as well.


Kyperion smiled grimly. Oh yes. This was the payoff for months of skulking on rooftops, killing Nathali in alleyways, and coming here in the first place. "Well then, I'm sure you'll be interested to know, your majesty, that all vampires are invited to join the Nathali...or die the complete death. Now, to mature vampires, such as yourselves, this is a threat, quite plainly. But imagine the potential appeal to the young vampires. If even one in three capitulate, the Nathali have enough access to vampires to completely vampirize their ranks." Kyp slid a small set of scrolls across the table. "The Scrolls of Natha are the authoritative text responsible for the founding of the Nathali. It's pretty clear on what to do with anyone who doesn't agree."


Furan stands from his table pushing the chair up against the wall. He then drops a few coins onto the table. Perhaps to pay a tab he hadn't opened. He then makes his way to the door of the tavern and leaves.


Kasyr doesn't even blink at Larewin's amusement, his reply underlined by a certain air of sincerity, "Mm. Oh. I suppose I should have added the Civil war that occurred in Vailkrin, but that was more regional, et less continental. I'm sure if you asked around, however, you could likely find out a bit more on the subject." Turning his attention towards Kyperion, the Kensai simply shrugs, "From what you described, the idea is 'Kill them all. Then kill ourselves.' Which is a Credo I'm not entirely unfamiliar with. Until recently, Vailkrin was serving as the home to a bunch of Fanatical apocalypse worshipping Vakarash cultists." A pause, and the Kensai can't help but scratch at his chin, "Anyways, how do you intend on dealing with them? Do they have any sort of base operation on the mainland? Are you intending to pay their island a visit?" Whilst Kasyr seems ecstatic at the prospect for a decent fight, Casper's ears have long since flattened against her head- the cat seemingly aware of the pandemonium she'll be potentially dragged through.


Larewen lifts her chin slightly, her veil shifting about her face. "I will have to, most definitely," the elf agrees. "It seems I have missed quite the excitement in my absence. I hope it's not all over, though." And that is precisely why she has taken up an interest in the cultists. Not only is it an opportunity to learn more about zealots, but to aid in the cult's annihilation would give the sorceress test dummies for her craft. The departure of the rude human then briefly draws her attention, and his scent leads to a flare of her nostrils.


Kyperion shook his head."T....that place is too far, too big and too strange. Believe me, I grew up there. Surprise attacks, poisoning, tag with knives, all of this was designed to see if you were worthy of conveying truth. The general populace is dealing with an invasion several centuries in progress. If the Nathali were helping instead of killing, it couldn't be done. I don't doubt your prowess, but some things are placed out of reach for those who live the life of non-deities." Kyp took a pull at a flask. "No, the idea is to stop the beachhead from occurring. I have confirmed intelligence that the current Elder, Bathaias, is underway, with a large number of the Nathali. Judging by the amount of time I seem to be missing, it takes several months to make the journey, even assuming a few months were spent doing something I don't remember. Stop the beachhead, catch the invasion at the shore. For now, I suggest you deal with seeds of sedition in your realm, and I shall have my friend here" he motioned to Larewen "help me kill some cultists. Oh, and a word of warning? If you see a middleaged person, man or woman, in gray robes, steer clear. That's a Nathali priest. They were assassins, but retired. Now, they're vampires, if they show themselves in public, and they like to relive their killing days. Retiring of old age in....on the island is no small feat. Doing so and being ambulatory all the more amazing. Even assuming that they are feeble for a vampire, they will have the qualities of the most powerful mortal warriors, with ever increasing power."


Kasyr slowly cants his head off to one side, before straightening up, then mimicking the action to the other side- a pensive expression on his face the while. Casper takes this moment to hop on top of the Revenants head, curling up so that her head rests between his ears. " Noted, j'suppose. I'll make sure that this information is passed on to those individuals who look into this sort of thing." Having intelligence networks -is- sort of obligatory, in Vailkrin. "Again. can I expect any small groupings of them working out of areas? Will they be primarily located here, ou elsewhere? And are you intending on leading, or directing any forays against them, prior to their eventual landing?"


Kasyr said to Larewen, "Plenty of things have occured, and on a small scale, they vary. On a grand scale, however, they seem to be much of the same."


Larewen falls silent then, clearly noting that her input is not needed. Turning toward Steadman, the elf raises a gloved hand, and mouths a request for a glass of bloodwine.


Kyperion smiled grimly. "Yes. Look for humans in light gray scarves. If that fails, look for Death aspected tattoos. Nasty habit of the Nathali-- they tattoo their member's bodies so that they burst into flame when moved after death. A magical, chemical flame. It's strong enough to consume a vampire, actually. An ill fated young one found that out the hard way the other night. Poor bastard. Oh, and not all of them are assassins. There are killers, open warriors called 'cull-men,' who wander and openly kill targets. They've been hit in the head in some rather specific spots, but what it boils down to is that they can see what you're about to do a split second before you do it. I had the rudiments of training, but thankfully, no head hitting. Theirs is the most severe training, and their death rate is the highest among the Nathali. They're an obvious choice for vampirism."


Kasyr can't help but wonder if Cuki's peculiar brand of monk-ish anti-magic had been induced by 'Mystic-Pinpoint-Concussions'. "Is it some form of...natural magic that let's them see what you can do, or is it er.. more something that falls in the domain of doctors. Because whilst I'm talented at what I do, my medicinal abilities are severely limited. You know, beyond making a quick, clean amputation- or an incision here, or there." Or everywhere. Kasyr can't help but allow his thoughts to drift back to Cuki once more. "Given they are marked with magical inks, I can assume this order doesn't utilize individuals 'gifted' with Anti-magic, however? Because, I had a rather devious idea, if you could find me an individual marked with that ink. Moreover, how long does it take that ink to become active. Or is it removed from those converts that live long enough to become vampires."


Larewen remains silent, listening to the two talk of the Nathali, and their ink. The elf has little to say on the subject, but it certainly intrigues her. Unlike Kasyr, her mind doesn't turn toward the monk, whom the sorceress actually does know, but is unaware that he still walks among the living. She continues to sip at the bloodwine.


Kyperion blinked. "Well... the one vampiric Elder that a wander named Krice and I managed to kill wasn't in flames, but he was technically dead, and did still have his tattoos. I imagine that the tattoos are fairly well done, seeing as how I've never heard of an accident. Had a hell of a time getting mine off safely, I can tell you that. A few cull-men have anti-magic, but it was very rare. The Nathali have a...strange relationship with magic. Masters are even able to slide in and out of shadows." Kyp grimaced. Another thing he'd forgotten to mention. Conveying an entire culture was hard, when you were trying in bits and pieces, and to people who'd never encountered it. "The tattoos are active upon the body's hitting the ground, or a reasonably stable surface. While they are still falling, you can alter their arc without causing the flames to begin." Kyp patted himself down, feeling his various weapons and checking his longsword. "And...there. That human male is a Nathali agent. He's taken off his gray scarf, but I can see it, his tattoos, and a brace of knives peeking."


Valentin tromps into the Hanging Corpse, one hand tightly gripping the chains wrapped around what appeared to be a growling book, and the other hand carrying a sheaf of papers. The butcher's face merely carried a dour expression between two shaggy muttonchops. Despite being about on guild business, the oversized tool of his trade still rested in its sheath on his back. The butcher turned from dour to scowling when he recognised the bloody fanged toff who'd tested him for a certain organisation. Just what Valentin needed. A bloody aristocrat to ruin his drinkin' time. Still, he had a tankard of the red stuff owed him by the day's exertions, and he'd be damned if he wasn't goin' to collect. Valentin approaches the bar, touching hand to the brim of his bowler hat in greeting to those assembled by Steadman's bar "Wotcher Guvs, an' evenin' Mam'selle"


Kasyr takes one good look over towards the fellow Kyperion pointed out; something which serves as Casper’s unspoken cue to hop off the Kensai’s head, and take cover behind the counter of the bar. Steadman, none too pleased with the cat's decision to take cover, goes to fetch a broom. Kasyr seems to take little notice, his words coming out a quickly, but a fair bit more quietly, “So, these tattoos? They're all the same? Sort of the..culmination of making cremation and post-mortem spite a reality instead of a dream? Because if it's all the same, I think we ought to catch that one alive- so we can maybe get a look at that tattoo..et perhaps see if some of the more...magically inclined individuals might be able to ascertain a means to track these fellows through that mark. They all have it, right?" And there's more devious possibilities, still. Whatever the case, the Kensai begins to reach over the counter at this point, fumbling around for a few moments, before he procures a package wrapped in tattered bandages. Which, is about the point he notes Valentin, "Hey. I remember tu." Mostly. Somewhat. Kasyr remembers he's a butcher, and some vague stuff beyond that. "Would you be willing to help me with a..er..idea? Drinks or on me, if you can help in this endeavour. Just need someone whose capable of doing a bit of..necromantic know-how."


Larewen is still quietly listening, and no longer taking part in the conversation, as she sips slowly at the glass of red, flavored with iron. At some point, the sorceress has settled on one of the bar stools, her skirt carefully adjusted as one leg crosses over the other beneath it. The elf carefully maintains her posture with her back straight, as a proper lady should. "Kyperion," she interjects suddenly. "I'd like to experiment on you, with my magic. See if I can't undo the spell weaved to hinder your recollections of the cult." As soon as the words leave her mouth, the butcher enters and it's not so much his appearance that garners her attention, but the book he carries with him. For a brief moment, her expression threatens to crack, as a child might at the prospect of receiving a new toy. When the book's owner offers his greeting, she draws her dark eyes away from the curious tome to regard Valentin with a slight nod from behind her veil. "Good eve," she returns coyly. Her attention is then directed toward the cultist as he's pointed out, dark eyes narrowing briefly before Kasyr speaks again and draws the elf's attention. "I wouldn't mind playing with him." Him being the cultist, of course. It seems the sorceress has no problems with using live test rats, per se.


Kyperion held up a hand. "I did promise Larewen a nibble at the neck of any victim which catches her fancy, but I think the academic ramifications of tracking and/or triggering a death based cult tattoo might intrigue her sufficiently for her to pass."


Valentin grumbles at Kasyr "After Cenril Arena, guv, I reckon you would remember me, an' all." It had been a particularly violent affair. Valentin leaves the rest of the Revenant's statement untouched for now, as one task had priority above all others. "Steadman. Bloody top shelf kitchen sink." Steadman would leave the cat alone long enough to pour the butcher a glass of elven bloodwine, long ago accustomed to the Cenrilli vampire's slang. The butcher jams the sheaf of papers in his apron pocket so as to be able to collect the glass from the counter, then takes a long, slow draught, draining half of it in utter disregard of vintage or taste. "Now that hits th'bloody spot. Blimmin' Lorkain's a bloody banker an' all." The tome pressed at its restraints long enough to make a failed attempt to bite through the leather-backed material of the butcher's apron, its teeth unable to gain purchase with but a centimetre of play in the chains. Valentin surreptitious banged the damn thing against the underside of the bar. At least, as surreptitiously as any loud impact can be. Valentin turned to face Kasyr "So, guv. Necromantic know-how, is it?"


Kasyr finishes dragging the overtly large bandaged object over the counter, before tearing off a small section of the wrappings and giving it a shake. Slowly, those tattered bandages fall away, to reveal the blackened broadsword beneath- reminiscent of the Revenants prior weapon, though there are a few differences were someone to look for it. The hilts' design is decidedly less serpentine, after all, and the metal lacking Gospel's organic, scaled appearance. Hence armed, the Kensai simply proceeds to lean on the weapon, like some improvised walking stick- one foot planted against the counter so that he looks all but poised to tumble out of his seat. "Mm. Detonation -had- occurred to moi, though that wouldn't exactly help us with any individual who had decided to unmake his marking..or in the case of individuals with anti-magic...made it inert. Which is where Monsieur Valentin's prowess is useful." Here, the Butcher of Cenril is addressed, "Would it be within your power to potentially resurrect someone, and have them divulge information? Cause I have some questions I'd like answered. And if they can't be answered, then I'd quite like to find some loopholes to get around that. Like say, were someone unable to tell us where they were headquartered- instead giving them the compulsion to return to their peers upon their ..revival."

Kasyr said to Kyperion, "On your mark, as a note."


Larewen frowns and furrows her brow at the butcher's treatment of the book, her expression finally shifting to that of mild concern -- for the tome. "Can I see that rather peculiar tome of yours?" the sorceress questions, taking another sip of her own bloodwine before gesturing at the growling book with a gloved hand. When no response, or comment, comes from Kasyr or Kyperion regarding her interest in the cultist, her lips purse before parting to drain the rest of her drink.


Kyperion shrugged. "I remember the cult just fine. A little too well... No, it's how I left...that place and came here that's a total mystery. What little delving I have done, I did with the help of a diminutive feline druid named Daisy, and apparently I gave my word not to delve. You are welcome to examine the spell, but not undo it. I don't want those who helped me to end up suffering for their trouble. In the meantime, I'd be happy to answer any questions you have."


Valentin downs the rest of his beverage without ritual, then responds to Kasyr. "Sorry guv. You'll need one o'me superiors for that. Tha's high level soul magic, an' her Grand Bitchiness Tenebrae is the best one for tha' kind o'nonsense. Her or the Magister Letum Leifong. My talents lie in different areas." Areas which the Revenant may well recall from Cenril, when caught in the detonation of blackfire which Valentin had drawn from the umbral tides. "Y'want t'mess around with ghouls an' ghosties, talk to her Fancyarse Malevolence. Right up her alley, innit." It was amazing how work followed the butcher home, as it were. Luckily, he had a reason to turn away from Kasyr, one which wasn't too hard on the eyes. Shame he'd have to disappoint her "No can do, Mam'selle. The thing's bein' disciplined on account o'misbehaviour. It knew the consequences. If it bites me, it gets the chain for a day. Rules is rules. If the blimmin' thing weren't so damn important, I'd feed it t'me gravewyrms an' good riddance." And regrettably, Valentin mused, it was bloody important. His Guildmistress' farewell gift to him - before she'd made the huge faux pas of bloody well coming back. He'd liked her a lot in her absence, got all nostalgic. But the bitch had ruined it by returnin'. It was that damn Maladroit's fault. And with that thought, Valentin realised, he needed another drink. "Steadman. Round two."


Kasyr let's out a pensive, "Hrm." and proceeds to lean back against his sword, Vesper, even further- coaxing a grating noise from the floor, "In that case, I might pose something else to you later, though- that'll be more...Cenril related. Arena-wise." A shrug, and Kasyr glances over towards the fellow Kyp pointed out as a 'Nathali', which isn't all that hard to do- with the Revenant all but ready to spill head over heels backwards. "Well, In that case- I think this guy is all the Damoiselle's domain then. Let's hop to it. I'm in the mood to crack a skull." And get the measure of these men. He glances up towards Larewen at that point, "You are ready, non? " Really, The kensai is almost contemplating the possibilities of having a ittle fanged fanatical Nathali minion- though, given that a little disobedience means you could potentially have a walking fireball with a mind to torch you. Well... The other options seemed preferable.


Larewen fights the pout that threatens to take her lips. She'd rather toy with the magic and unravel it, perhaps even learning more about it, than let it sit for the protection of others. Alas, that's not the sorceress' choice to make. Then, Valentin speaks again, and her attention is drawn back to him. Not much of the male's words are processed, though; rather, the elf's eyes widen slightly and she repeats the name he speaks, "Tenebrae?" There isn't much of a way to describe the way the name falls from her lips, except for it's whispered upon an unnecessary exhale. The necromancer is alive still? How long had it been? How long has that damned pool haunted her memory? By this time, Valentin has warranted every bit of the elf's attention, Kasyr and Kyperion all but forgotten as dark eyes fixate on the butcher. "She... lives?" As those words fall from her lips, another memory surfaces: that of the day she drove the spear into Schalk, sacrificing him so that he could communicate with Tenebrae, Castellian, and Leoxander amidst whatever dwelled within that pool. That pool, which she had opened for the latter two. When Kasyr inquires as to whether she is prepared, it takes her some time to fully register his words, at which she turns her head to regard him. "Always,"she responds, though now her tone is detached.


Valentin grunts at Kasyr "An' won't that be fun." Like being poked in the eyes with a hedgehog's arse. Larewen's quiet outburst at the mention of Tenebrae's name, however, gained his attention immediately. He knew his Mistress had run around for ages as Joliette Thorne, which meant this bint knew her of old, which was either a good thing or a bad thing. He hoped the latter. Maybe the two wenches had cause to claw each other's eyes out, or somethin' "Aye, her Regal Irritableness is indeed still alive. Given certain definitions of 'Alive', that is. Her temper's alive, if that blimmin' counts." And how. If Valentin hadn't been so accustomed to handling insane vampiric necromancer lords and ladies, he'd have been spread in little pieces around Vailkrin's Dark Forest not a week past. "If y'want, I'll speak her name, an' the hellbitch is likely t'appear jus' t'make me life miserable some more." Valentin grunted again "Don' worry lass, you'll see her aroun' plenty soon." Not ominous, just a resigned statement of truth.


Tenebrae appears from the north.

Tenebrae was a sense of imminent ominousness. Then an ominousness looming, then the door being pushed ajar. Right after that, she was a pair of tightly pursed lips and a face like gravid thunderclouds coalescing over something hapless, and a sharp tick of heels over the tavern's floor, heading for the congregated causes of her general ire.


Valentin drains his second glass of bloodwine in a single pull "See. I blimmin' well told you so." The universe had it in for him, it was obvious.


Tenebrae said, "My house." She said this through her clenched teeth. "Is a ruin."


Valentin muttered under his breath "Prob'ly scared th'blimmin' cleaners away." but follows it quickly with a louder "Mistress, th'toff here" Valentin jerks his thumb at Kasyr "Wants a dash o'soul magic t'go bringin' back ghosties for questionin', or somesuch." Distract and divert, the age-old adage of apprentices in all trades.


Larewen is raising another gloved hand toward steadfast, a signal for another bloodwine, which she certainly needs. Then, the door is pushed open and the clicking of Tenebrae's heels assault the elf's ears. Just as her dark stare turns to regard the necromancer, Valentin's words are heard and, if her face had any color, it's gone now. Why? Because to this sorceress, long detached from most of the world, Tenebrae is a ghost. When she speaks, the elf can no longer deny what she sees and the glass of wine proffered by Steadman is hoisted to her lips and, in a similar fashion to the butcher, drained. Which is extremely unladylike, and a rather strange sight to behold given her adherence to posture and propriety.


Tenebrae said to Valentin, "Oh. Does he just? Well I suggest..." she saw Larewen then. "... he set up an account... Lare?" She was squinting at the woman, half-sideways, as if that angle would make better sense of the woman's presence here. "I'll be damned." And for once, that was sheer hyperbole.


Kasyr extends his arms out in a helpless shrug...which promptly has him letting go of his sword, and thereby losing the support that prevented him from falling out of his seat. Thankfully, he's able to reclaim his make-shift prop, though he's precariously balanced. "Er. I tried to protect the house. Given Saiyah was..asleep there for a few months, et quoi-ce-soit. Et I didn't know when that was happening again. Also, it's more...-him- that needs your expertise." Kasyr totally redirects Tenebrae to Kyperion, by means of a full body lurch and head inclination towards Kyperion.


Tenebrae said to Kasyr, "Hm? You were saying? Something about fixing my damn house, wasn't it?"

Tenebrae looked at Kyperion then, more narrowly. "You. You wanted whatnow? Hopefully a job in construction."


Kasyr said to Tenebrae, "It's a work in progress. Like the city. Since it's been up in flames. Twice."


Valentin finds his hopes of mutual wenchly eyegouging dashed when it seems the two women were acquainted in a friendly fashion. Still, he had to approve of Larewen's immediate recourse to liquor, and Kasyr's application of the 'distract and divert' strategy. With any luck, Tenebrae would be so distracted she'd not notice him surreptitiously kneeing his still-aggressive necromantic tome in what could potentially be called its 'face' as it tries to gnaw on his leg, once again thwarted by the chains wrapped around it.


Kasyr wonders, after the fact, if he should have alluded to the fact that her house has technically been in the middle of two city-wide disasters. Probably not.


Larewen returns the stemmed glass, now empty, to the bar then, dark eyes turning back toward Tenebrae. The sorceress is still at a loss for words, given that she's been haunted by the notion that the necromancer is dead, and has been dead. "The pool... You... You..." she manages after a a few moments. "Escaped?"


Kyperion raised his hands meekly. "I just wanted to get this death cult thing figured out. Since they want to manufacture vampires, I came here. That's it."


Tenebrae suddenly had a barman wrapped around her. The one-eyed keep had not hugged a single soul in more decades than anyone could recall, and the Necromancer was utterly stunned. Thankfully, into silence for a time as well as a slightly less venomous mood, by the time Steadman disengaged from her.

Tenebrae said to Larewen, "Of course. Ages ago, now... gosh, has it really been that long? Caste and ... the Captain. They're both dead, you know." She sighed, "Of course, they both deserved it. Men. And the Pool.. well, that's still alive, so to speak. Funny how things work, isn't it?""

Tenebrae eyed Kasyr, then. "Why is it that every time you set foot in this city, it blows up or something?" Then to Kyperion, "Manufacture.. Really?" She almost smiled. "And why is that a problem?"

Tenebrae chose to continue ignoring Valentin's book-wrangling exploits, though pinched the bridge of her nose in the effort, briefly.


Valentin manages not to smirk at Tenebrae's shocked response to Steadman's affection. He'd save that one for a special moment. Preferably when she was exhausted and lacking the energy to immolate him for what would be a very satisfying jibe down the road. He saves himself further risk by turning his focus to Kyperion for the first time that evening. "They blimmin' want t'do what? Make more blimmin' poxy bankers wi'fangs? 'Ells bells, th'damn place needs a third blimmin' cull o'the bastards." Valentin never let his own undead state get in the way of what was a long-ingrained prejudice against vampires. As far as Valentin was concerned, he was a butcher. Everything else was jus' details. He answers Tenebrae's question "Really, mistress, what th'hell d'we need more o'the fanged sods for anyway? Like bloody vermin, most o'them. Limp-wristed milquetoast layabouts needin' a decent bath in a firepit."


Kyperion smiled. "Well....it would help everyone if you could lend us your expertise and raise some dead. Specific ones. Not general dead. And, uh, yeah. Oh! Almost forgot. That Nathali is getting ready to leave, so if someone could restrain him for questioning/consumption, I will answer any and all questions about the Nathali death cult."


Tenebrae said to Valentin, as she pointed at Kyperion, "I say, Butcher. What's he on about? Is he going to pay us for something?"


Larewen chuckles faintly in response to the necromancer's glare at Valentin, her chin lifting slightly. "Most definitely," she agrees. "It seems all who leave eventually find their way back here." As for visiting the pool alone... well, the sorceress hasn't cared much for her own safety through the years. Not since the mishap with her cousin. Her lips press together briefly, drawing the glass of bloodwine to her mouth.


Valentin mutters to himself as he goes over the accounts from the foundry "If them Nathali or whatever can get me a better price on copper tubin', I'd nab th'banker m'self" It then filters through his concentration that Tenebrae's imperious voice had been directed at him again. Valentin looks up from the paperwork "He's goin' on about some kind o'cult what wants t'make Vampires. An' he wants someone to go summonin' up some dead bastard for information. So I guess he's plannin' to pay someone somethin'"


Tenebrae glanced toward Kyperion, "It'll cost you."


Larewen continues to sip at her wine for a few moments, before regarding Tenebrae once more. "Perhaps I can help with your house?"


Kasyr finally pushes himself back up into a sitting position, before offering Tenebrae a somewhat cheeky grin, "As for my lack of surprise, Madamoiselle, I've found there's certain perks to have an intelligence service answering to me." Though, given the overall lack of subtleness that hailed her arrival.. " Anyways, if anything this fellow has said about them is true- I'm thinking they'll be partially well funded..and likely have a few tidbits of information worth poring over. As for repair groups, beyond his bit of help, I'm certain that we could get a number of Redhale's people to pour over it's reconstruction post haste, to get you re-settled." It's about this point that a somewhat serious look crosses the Revenants face, "It is good to have tu back, as a note. ..I'd contemplated trying to find tu a few times, given how grave you seemed to be when you set out. But I couldn't find you." And given that the one time he'd been immersed, it was his wish to find her? He had pretty good odds at doing that. With a shake of his head, he just offers up a wry smile."So...is it safe to give you a welcome back hug. Or are you going to hit me for all the people that trampled your lawn?" And the city blowing up. She probably wasn't fond of tha- oh. Kyperion's assassin-y fellow is getting ready to leave. Right, That thing that the Kensai was focusing on. He should probably maim him.


Tenebrae step toward Kasyr. "Intelligence.." she snorted. And then hit him. Sniffing haughtily after that, she announced "You may hug me now."


Kyperion made a face. "Okay. I'm assuming you will end up dealing with the vampiric Nathali, as they are probably going to be your problem before they are human problems. But for services of a magical nature rendered, I have something I was saving for a really spectacular occasion." Reaching into his satchel, the former assassin pulled out a roll of leather, then flicked it across the counter. Inside was a set of tattoos, on human skin. Kyperion's skin. "I cut this off my body a single knife stroke at a time, using a silver dagger and enough enchanted painkillers to make me rob an apothocary, alchemist and magic monkey. These are my death tattoos. The *only* non actived, non active magical tattoos to ever leave the island of my birth. They're enchanted to be impossible to copy, save from another pair, and fade from memory if not focused on. I will give you these unique tattoos of Vakmatharas' own gift, for you to get the information I need. At the very least, you could powder it up and use it as an incendiary venom or poison."


Tenebrae said to Valentin, "Was the going rate for a resurrection a couple of flaps of inky skin, Thanadule? Or was it... a nice stack of gold coins? I really can't remember." To Larewen, she said, "Your help is better employed in a new venture I have.. but we'll discuss that over tea, too, yes?""


Larewen glances to the door as the others continue to speak, noting, perhaps belatedly, that someone had not arrived as promised this evening. A slight frown appears for but a moment before Tenebrae's response is give. "Of course. I look forward to hearing about it, over tea," the sorceress says before polishing off her wine again and carefully rising to her feet. Gloved hands then move to curl into her skirt and hoist it from the ground. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire now, 'lest I'm overcome by the urge to drop in on my ex-husband and his family."


Tenebrae said to Larewen, "It's so much easier when they're dead..." It was well meant, however, to judge by her smile. "Don't leave it so long to see me again, will you? We have much to discuss...""


Valentin swears as he goes through the invoices with a discerning eye "Those cheeky bankers, there is no blimmin' way they used that much metal for a vat that size! Th'bloody foreman is goin' t'hear from me soon, damn his shifty hide." At about that point, Tenebrae asked of him her question. "With you, mam'selle, hard t'tell. I recall you trading in esoteric weirdnesses at some point or other. Tell y'what. I'll buy them tattoos off you later like. There's somethin' familiar about their arrangement, an' I'm curious enough t'research 'em." Sensing Valentin's distraction between invoices and conversation, his tome managed to pry loose its chains far enough to let it get its teeth around a small section of the butcher's thigh. With malevolent satisfaction, the damn thing bites down, causing Valentin to make an encore "Right. That's it." Taking the tome by the hand the butcher repeatedly slams it against the blackstone wall until it lies stunned and quiescent in his hands. "But it's up to you"


Larewen chuckles softly and shakes her head. "Ah, not this one. He insists on having me in his life still, so I told him he'd have to marry me again," the sorceress remarks. "I won't allow as much time to pass again; especially with this venture you have."


Kasyr can't help but blink in surprise when he's bopped, before his ears perk up at what she says immediately thereafter. No effort is taken to stop the boyish grin from overtaking his features as he slips out from his seat and moves to draw her into a tight hug. "So, did you resolve all that business that you left on? Are tu intending on staying, et all that?" Remembering himself, he relinquishes her from the hug, before promptly leaning back against his chair. Briefly, anyways, since he proceeds to hook one foot around the chairs leg, kick it up into the air, deftly snag while it's still spinning- and then promptly step around Tenebrae and hurl it full force towards the guy Kyperion is being so Antsy about. Vampiric strength of a Revenants calibur basically ensures it'll pack enough of a wallop that nothing of the chairs going to remain, so long as it hits.

Kasyr belatedly adds, "Take a seat." The kensai can't help but feel the delivery fall's a bit flat, though.


Tenebrae said to Larewen "Married.. Well, you'll have to keep me filled in on that. And soon, then. I should have a house to invite you to, at some point." Which brought her attention to Kasyr - who was hugging her so hard she'd have been pushed for breath, if she'd needed breath.. "Staying... No. The moment I figure out how, I'll be home to my King and country. If it happens there's no way out of here..." she shrugged, since he'd let her go by then, "There's no reason for me to be in Vailkrin, really, is th...." Crash, went the chair. She eyed its objective target, and then Kyperion. "Listen. The bits of old skin are... lovely... and all. And as Valentin wants them, they'll do as part payment. But if you want us raising dead, and dealing with cults, and assisting in cleaning up some vampire horde.. I'd like gold to go along with that. Ten thousand ought to do."


Larewen slips away then, though not to leave the establishment. Rather, it seems that, for the time-being, and due to the reluctance to stay with her fiance, the elf has taken up temporary residence in on of the Hanging Corpse's rooms.


Kasyr said to Tenebrae, "You know.. Given I'm one of your lot, doesn't that mean you're also entitled for payment for whatever I do, as well?"


Kyperion had handed over his skin without a second thought. The idea that it was used against the Nathali was delightful, and he'd long since stopped being squeamish. If growing up in Traumain wasn't bad enough, cutting off a full body tattoo by hand would do it for you. Then he stopped dead. "Wait. Ten thou-- No. I'm new here, you're royalty, but no. Ten thousand gold could see me to another continent, and since I never had that much, and made it here, I'm pretty sure substatially less could do the same. That skin is unique. One of a kind. Eliminates all trace of your agent once he's dead without you lifting a magical finger. I'll give you five thousand gold, purloined from people who didn't appretiate it, and not a single piece more."


Valentin rubs the sigils scarred into the flesh of his arm and hidden by his shirt. His sire, another loon worshipping Vakmatharas, had been all about carving sigils into folks' flesh. Valentin did indeed have a professional interest in those tattoos, and comments to Tenebrae "I reckon they're worth about two thousand to me, if I were t'be generous an' unwillin' to be stingy with m'superiors as it were."


Tenebrae shifted her green gaze to Kasyr. "One of my... lot? How's that, Kasyr? I seem to recall the last time we did business, I wound up looking very much to blame for someone very powerful being disembodied. And I never asked a cent. Nor got one. And as I'll be out of pocket for repairing the house destroyed under your... wardship, or whatever you're doing with the place, these days... I'm finding it hard to see what you're talking about. Perhaps you could enunciate a little more clearly."

Tenebrae snapped her attention back to Kyperion, "Mind your tone with me, lad." Her smile was wide and not at all cheerful. "Five thousand, and.... a debt of service. You can begin as an apprentice and if you survive that, you can work off the debt. How's that sound?"

Tenebrae nodded to Valentin, "Think you'll get three thousand's work out of him before he gets eaten by something?" She winked. "I'll let you boys work it out. Just point me to the raising, once the price is set."


Kyperion nodded thoughtfully. "A debt of service AND you give me access to your guild. If I'm going to do the work, and not get paid, I'm going to have the perks."


Valentin narrows his eyes "Wait, what? The blazes y'talkin' about, Mistress?" He had a horrible feeling he knew. His inner self was preparing a long tirade of 'I-told-you-so's even as he spoke.


Tenebrae waggled a finger between Kyperion and Valentin, saying to the Butcher, "Look, all sorted. Might we induct him as apprentice, then?" She gave the Thanadule a greasy sort of grin, "Valentin here will be your teacher, I believe."


Kyperion grinned at the butcher. "Love the chance to find my way around a blade, guv."


Kasyr is -very- grateful for all the practice he's had at keeping a neutral expression, if only because it let him avoid ceding beneath the weight of her aggravation- the only visible indicator that anything was off being the slight folding of his ears. "First off, I don't recall there being any particular bits of animosity in regards to that outcome- and had anything been directed to you, I would have involved myself. Secondly, you seemed to also relish the opportunity to get rid of some of that.." ...Abysmal darkness? Vile Squiggly Caliginous substance of doom ? " Black stuff. " A pause, "Thirdly, you wouldn't have a home at all to return to, where it not for -Redhale- and my Wardship. And repairs are ongoing to the city. it's just a handful when things want to burn it down. It can be prioritized, especially since you're coming back to it, which does place most of the cost on..me." The city moreso than him, but that's splitting hairs. "And Kyperion obviously needs a way to pay off his imminent debt, so you certainly have help toting stuff there, too." Poor fellow. "Lastly. Cabal. Despite differences that may have occurred, I do believe I've adhered to those tenets." With an irked look, the Kensai can't help but add, "Hell, the civil war started before I was even really loitering in this city. I only really involved myself since you said you wanted Redhale to succeed you- so I tried to stop it from burning to the ground." Given it's not a smouldering crater, the venture can be considered a partial success.


Valentin was serenaded by an inner choir of smug bastards. Sometimes the butcher hated it when he was right. He'd almost managed to forget the sadistic bitch had promoted him to Thanadule. "Right then. As y'say, mistress." Nothing for it, she had him snookered. Valentin puts away his paperwork - he'd use it to unwind later - and turns to Kyperion "Alright lad, that makes you a Novus Morior of the Necromancer's Guild, y'poor bastard. An' that makes me th'lucky Thanadule what has t'try an' stop you from gettin' yourself killed while off doin' the suicidal tasks th'mistress sets us. If y'last a week, feel free t'tell me y'name then. I'm not too fussed otherwise" Valentin used to be renowned for the 'peptalks' he gave his butcher's apprentices. The butcher directed a look to Tenebrae "So, what is it y'want done? I s'pose I don't need t'spend much time wi'the coopers an' foundrymen now, as they have the barrels an' vats well in hand."


Tenebrae patted Kasyr on the shoulder. "You shouldn't get so worked up about things, Kassy. Bad for the blood, you know? Now, what had we agreed regarding my house repairs, it's sort of a bit ... confusing, isn't it? Can’t you just fix it? That'd be lovely. I'll need a place to hole up until my... other residence.. is properly underway, and the manse would do nicely." She glanced about the tavern, rather than look directly at him as she continued, "What I was annoyed about, was that when I needed your help I got a faceful of hissy wife and not much else. And that is why I am hoping, Kasyr, that in my times of need, as it is now, you might be a little more.. forthcoming. And the missus a little less... hissy, if it becomes necessary to deal with her at all. Can we manage that?" She patted him again. "Once Cabal, always Cabal, unless one isn't, as it were."


Tenebrae shot a look to Valentin that -might- have been a tiny bit amused. "Vampire bodies. I need .. oh, say... fifteen at least. And the rubble cleared out of the manse. Annnd.. " Her forefinger tapped her lower lip as she pondered, "Two live vampires. And a goat."


Valentin grunted. Of course she wanted some live ones. Always a blimmin' complication with her. He'd have t'go fetch the meatcart for this one. "A'right Mistress. It shall be done. Any preference for th'live ones, an' how intact d'ye need th'proper dead ones? An' how attractive or bearded d'ye want your billygoat?" Valentin hauls himself to his feet with little grace or graciousness, and tromps over to Kyperion, the unconscious tome still held onto with vicelike grip. "Right, Novus, welcome t'hell in a blimmin' handbasket." Valentin then awaits Tenebrae's response


Tenebrae said, "A fine bearded billy would be nice... oh, and it has to be black, without a single hair of any other shade. As for the vampires, I need them whole. All of them." She beamed at Kyperion. "I do so like having new blood in the Guild. Of course, it's always better if you can manage to keep it inside you.""


Kasyr simmers down the moment she's starts patting him, his ears slowly wobbling up into their typically perky state. Running a hand through his hair, the Kensai simply shrugs, "Yeah, as I said. I can contact Redhale, see if we can get a bunch of his people to just focus on working it, in tandem with some of mine. Probably house Ginavi, given their particular affinities would likely make them more capable of actually -doing- any repairs, if that house es an example of your handiwork." The kensai idly shrugs at about that point, then goes to scoop up the sword he dropped earlier, "Bah."


Kyperion bowed. "Don't worry, I'm very attatched to my innards." Standing back up and popping his neck, Kyperion nodded to Kasyr. "Might want to bind that man up. The ambiance here suggests that he might be forgotten if something tastier walks in." Kyp looked at Valentin, and, inevitably, his gaze swung to the vampire's massive saex. "Shall we?" he asked.


Tenebrae stepped behind Kasyr and scritched him between the ears. "Don't be cranky. I did miss you a bit, you know. And once the manse is sorted, we'll have you and the wife over for dinner. Just.. tell your men not to aggravate the things in the cellar, if that part survived at all. And the blueprints are still lodged at city hall, unless they were buried with Ginger or something."


Valentin knew it. No convenient hacking the bastards to bits. He'd have t'go for the more 'subtle' approach. He was really growing to hate that word. Well, there was ways an' means, an' he just had t'find himself a couple o'flesh batteries from the slums. Then he'd just storm some toffy bastard's house an' do in th'lot of 'em. It'd take preparation though. The butcher touched the brim of his bowler hat in acknowledgement of the task "A'right. Black billy, an' intact vermin. Done deal." Valentin nodded to Kyperion. "Why don't you an' me go over t'that table there, an have a little chat 'bout what skillset y'have, so's we can make some decent use of 'em" Valentin jerked a thumb at the table he'd just come from, and heads back over to take a seat.


Kasyr is trying not to look elated at the scritching, and instead just resorts to some awkward fidgeting, "It's the paper work. And things exploding.." It takes some effort to recall what Kyperion said and move away, amble over to the downed fellow from before, and promptly bash him with the flat of his blade a few more times, for good measure. Not to death, or anything- though he's not getting prettier from this bit of manhandling. Once done, he drags the fellow by his foot to the bar, and behind the counter, "I'm going to stuff him in the cages downstairs. I'm sure Kyperion will fill you in on what he wants done with this guy later." Casper, having spent this entire time alternating between hiding, and scurrying around underfoot, finally sidles over to the Kensai- having decided to take refuge near the Revenant, now that it's relatively safe to be near him.


Kyperion sat down at a table, and tried not to stare at the book. It wasn't working. "Well, uh, I was raised in an assassination cult, and I'm the only one to leave alive, so I'm pretty good. 'The Heretic of Attatchment' they call me. I was also trained as a cull-man, a sort of unsubtle assassin/reaver. That's what the longsword is for. Uh...oh! I can hide in semi magical shadow well enough to fool almost all humans, most vampires, and even some felines."


Valentin taps his fingers on the table. "Well then, maybe y'wont be so useless as I first thought, guv. Shadows y'say. Good. Shadows are m'specialty. There's things y'can do wi'the essence o'shadow which will take you far beyond a little game o'hide an' seek. If y'survive the basic trainin' without' burnin' out your mind from overdrawin' on magical energy, the Mistress may not ha'been as damn obnoxious as she was tryin' t'be by offloadin' you on me." Valentin glanced around the room. "Y'see guv, it's goin' t'fall on me to take you beyond th'basics. Now, you're goin' t'have t'spend some unpleasant hours wi'the lich Lorkain up in th'necropolis. Necromancy, an' all of its related arts, are very different from what them folks in the Mage's Guild learn. They deal in th'elements. We deal in entropy, death, an' the power hidden in blood, shadow an' darkness. But for now, we'll go introduce you t'the joy of every Novus Morior: bein' a gofer for th'mistress. Meet me back here in a couple of days time. I've some preparations t'make, an' then I'll show you how we're goin' to nab most of them in one fell swoop. While I make me preparations, I want you t'scout out at least three vampire households containin' no less than 7, but no more than 15-odd vampires. The trick t'this is keepin' 'em intact, so we can't go cuttin' 'em up - worse luck - but I have a plan for that. However, I want this done quickly once we get started. Oh, an' you can find th'damn goat. Consider it the formal hazin' as I can't be fecked bein' more creative with it. You got all that, Novus?"


Kasyr opens the cellar door, than promptly stops and gives Tenebrae a perplexed look. "If I'm in Vailkrin, I can't escape paperwork. They are -training- people to hunt me down and deliver me their demands, and complaints. Though some of them have just taken to following me around, and badgering me." With a sour expression, the kensai heaves what he's carrying towards the stairs... then remembers it's a human body, and not a sack of potatos. A panicked flail later, and the Kensai's caught the fellow by his foot, moments before he would have spilled over the stairwell and onto the cellar floor, "Er. That's what get's me cr..vexed." A deep breathe, and the Kensai adds, "The dinner is a lovely idea, however. It would be my pleasure to attend one, and I can only hope the same goes for my wife." With the assassin fellow dangling, the Kensai adds, "Er. Otherwise. I meant that this is the fellow that Kyp" Yeah, that was easy to remember, " wants you to examine, et experiment on. Et quoi-ce-soit." And it's on that note that the Revenant briefly vanishes into the cellar, though he's left the door open behind him.


Tenebrae waited a step or two and followed Kasyr down.


Kasyr exits down. Tenebrae exits down.


Kyperion saluted, half ironically, half to remove his hand from biting range- the jostling, biting book was moving closer. "Yessir." Kyp paused. "This is going to be a strange question, but since I'm basically leaving one death cult for another, we don't pretend that what we do is right, do we?"


Valentin grunted "Don't much bother m'self wi'questions o'right an' wrong, guv. I jus' do what needs doin' when it needs doin'." Valentin scratches at a shaggy muttonchop "Whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess. If y'want t'think o'yourself as a holy killer, or some kind o'unholy knight errant, you go right ahead. It don't make no difference to th'actual workload, an' won't bother me none." Valentin paused a moment, and clarified "Except if y'join a priesthood an' start preachin' at me. Then I might take offence." And given the number of butchered clergymen he'd left on the steps in front of Cenril's cathedral, Valentin took offence in a rather terminal fashion to priests. "But do what th'guild asks of you until you've shown yourself t'be both useful an' smart enough not t'be stupid, then all will go relatively smoothly. Until the Mistress notices it goin' smoothly, an' she'll find some way t'throw a spanner in the works. But y'get used t'that. Nature o'the business, an' all" When Valentin notices the book has awoken again, he slams his fist down on top of it, stunning it once more. "Also, guv, between Lorkain an' me, we're goin' t'have t'teach you the language an' the sigils which allow us t'tap into the energies which Necromancy uses." The butcher remembered one final, vital piece of advice Oh, an' try not t'piss off the Magister Letum Leifong. He'll kill you without blinkin'. If he is capable of blinkin' anymore, the monstrous bastard. If that one says jump, don't bother asking how high, jus' bloody jump. An' if he looks like he's goin' t'kill you on a whim, try t'tell him the Mistress made you my blimmin' apprentice. It probably won't help, but it's worth a shot"


Kyperion nodded. "Good. You don't pretend it's right. I had a stomach-full of that with the Nathali. I can work with earthy and pragmatic." Standing, Kyp saluted again, more genuinely. "I'd be interested to learn more Shadow work," he said thoughtfully. Turning, he went about trying to find a goat.


Valentin nods "That can be arranged." He really had no choice in the matter. It was obvious his Mistress considered this his penance for somehow summoning her back here


Kasyr shouted, "Valentin. A moment before you start your ...collections errand. S'il-te-plait."


Valentin shouted, "What do y'blimmin' want?"

Valentin mutters about shouty revenants under his breath


Kasyr shouted, "Damage Control. Give me a second."


Valentin comes tromping down the stairs, working up a decent tirade, until he sees the Revenant is accompanied by Tenebrae. So much for letting off steam. A different tack was required "A'right. I've sent the Novus off scoutin' for a goat an' prospective targets. I've got a lot o'preparation of me own to do as well, o'course, but naturally I can spare a moment for th'mistress. What's this damage I need t'be controllin'?"


Cellar Happenings

Kasyr can't help but grumble. Whilst it wasn't a physical strain to be lugging both the unconscious Nath-a-whatever fellow and his sword around- it was inconvenient as heck. And there was the discussion that Valentin was having... Yeah, that was going to be a headache. Whatever the case, he simply meandered over towards a cage, and hoped it wasn't currently locked- so he didn't actually have to start turning the room upside-down.

Kasyr shouted, "Valentin. A moment before you start your ...collections errand. S'il-te-plait."

Kasyr isn't sure how to say 'hold up on your imminent murder spree of my people' any more discreetly, or politely, than that.


Tenebrae said to Kasyr, "That lock was always a bit stiff. Give it a good shove." She winced when his shout went echoing off the stones of the cellar, "I know I've said in the past that I don't trust you, Kasyr. And I know this has caused some grief between us. Let us start afresh... I will trust you, and you will quit acting sneaky and treating me like an idiot that cannot be filled in on the truth of what is actually happening, rather than dropping hints left and right and making sneaky-eyes about it. I think that ought to work out splendidly. And if... if we can manage to be quite open with one another, there's a good chance of avoiding .. complications. In the future. For which I'll need around.. say... three or four tons of vampiric organic matter."


Valentin shouted, "What do y'blimmin' want?"


Kasyr sets his sword up against the outside of the cage, before he simply proceeds to set his shoulder up against the door and shove. The abrupt flail forward denotes that particular action as a success- which segues nicely into him hucking his unconscious burden into the cage and then slamming the door closed behind him. That done, he simply settles back against it and offers Tenebrae a grin, "I should note, I didn't like being...subtle, or sneaky. or however you'd like to define it. So, yes, I can agree to those terms. Speaking therein. I'd be quite amenable to you not -culling- houses post civil war. Especially when we're going to have a handful of psychotic hypocritical death worshipers to choose from, and whoever was fool enough to choose them. Really, if what he said was correct, you should have ample choice. Especially since a literal boat-load is supposed to be arriving soon-like." Kasyr is still hazy on the details. He wasn't really paying attention all that much, beyond descriptions of the people he'd be killing, and their capabilities.

Kasyr shouted, "Damage Control. Give me a second."


Tenebrae pursed her lips. "Are they all vampiric? It matters, you know. I need the resilience..." She caught the sound of Valentin's tromping down the stair and grinned. "And if you kill any.. do try to not dismember them too much? The Butcher will have that task himself, but not until the time is right."


Valentin comes tromping down the stairs, working up a decent tirade, until he sees the Revenant is accompanied by Tenebrae. So much for letting off steam. A different tack was required "A'right. I've sent the Novus off scoutin' for a goat an' prospective targets. I've got a lot o'preparation of me own to do as well, o'course, but naturally I can spare a moment for th'mistress. What's this damage I need t'be controllin'?"


Tenebrae shrugged and pointed at Kasyr. "He was the one hollering about damage.."


Kasyr folds his arms across his chest, "Apparently, -all- their priests are vampiric. And they are apparently coming here to convert more of their ilk, in preparations for a large hostile push into this area. Which leads to some interesting possibilities- since if you can find a means to track those people down by that tattoo he gave you... A tattoo that they are -all- apparently marked with, you could hunt them down and cull them as you please. They'd be unable to hide. Oh. and of course, should I find any information of members of any house consorting with these individuals, their holdings and lives would be forfeit. So, there's a bit of potential for some extra income, as well as corpses, if we can better monitor their movements." A pause, and the revenant adds, "It's not flawless though. They apparently have anti-mages. Rare..but. yeah. I imagine their tattoos are ...cosmetic, at best." Glancing up towards Valentin, the Revenant adds, "And that really sums up the first order of business. I'd prefer you didn't just find a bunch of vampires you had a distaste for, and were vulnerable, and offed them." It's more paperwork. "There's more viable targets."


Tenebrae lifted a brow and pointed at Valentin, this time. "There's nothing magical about a meat cleaver. Except perhaps the sound of it at work, but that more metaphor than anything..." She blinked slowly. "And if you do not wish your little.. people.. to end up in my vats, perhaps.. drop them a whisper that it's best not to get in my way, Kasyr. I have much to do, and very little patience. Will you send me a letter via Venturil pub, when my house is done? Then we'll have dinner, eh?"


Valentin grunts. "An' how much is that preference worth to th'guild?" Valentin let that sink in a moment. He was a Thanadule, and that meant he had to be a bit more proactive, right? An' not just because he was quite happy to kill whichever damn set o'fangs were most convenient. "It'll be a lot more blimmin' work, guv, an' more work means more delay, an' more cost incurred." Valentin scratched at his jawline "Y'goin' to make it worth my Mistress' while for us t'go to such effort to be that selective?" Especially when th'blimmin population o'vermin milquetoasts needs a damn good cull anyway, the butcher thought.


Kasyr said to Tenebrae, "They get in your way after word get's through the channels, it's on their head. I just don't intend on seeing them ...stirred up pre-emptively."


Tenebrae snapped the lock on the cage shut with one hand. In fact, she'd used just the one hand for everything this day, though it was doubtful anyone'd noticed it seeing as she'd kept it deliberately downplayed. "As for you..." she smiled at the captive, who was awake now and snarling and groaning in turn, "I'll see you in a couple of hours, pet." Her jaw dropped, then, and a bifurcated tongue lashed over a mawful of serrated fangs, while her fair face almost peeled back entirely such were the ferocity of its angles. "And we.. shall.. have a chat.," she hissed, and turned for the stair.


Valentin comments to Tenebrae "Can't use m'cleaver. You need 'em intact. Got t'be sorcerous about this one, I do."


Tenebrae hissed to Valentin in passing, "Charge him for the copper pipes, too," and louder, to Kasyr, "I'll try to be good and not chew up your denizens. Cross my heart and.." she ascended more stairs, "... well, et cetera."

Tenebrae exits up.


Kasyr said to Valentin, "Won't be that much more trouble, given that this is what your fellow Kyp wants you to do anyways. Essentially, you're running the errand that he incurred his initial debt with, while simultaneously doing -your- job. Two birds. One stone. Oh, and if anything does go awry- given that you'd be sifting through enemies of the state and individuals committing treason- I can assure you both assistance from the state, as it were, as well as measures taken to avoid retaliation against your person. " The revenant pauses to sift around in his pockets, before he procures a pair of cigarettes. One of which is briefly waggled towards Valentin in an offer, "Oh, and you can dredge out our prisons for your choice of whatever. Cultists, madmen, and a bunch of elitist vampires. I'm sure there's -some- still alive."

Kasyr watches Tenebrae go upstairs, then idly adds, "Mm, and I was wondering if you've heard from..Mouse at all. I've been bored out of my mind waiting for work. Have half a mind to make some for myself, and the other people that were in that group. If you were game.


Valentin grumbles. Of course she'd leave these negotiations in his hands. "Guv, I don't give a Yeti's Xalious what the Novus wants. He's a gofer who has yet to prove his worth t'the guild and earn the right t'ask for things. The mistress, however, wants 17 vampires and a damn goat. An' I will damn well get them for her. But I'll tell you what, guv. I'm a reasonable man." Valentin pauses a moment, as he considers that blatant lie "Since her Exalted Nastiness seems amenable to the notion o'compromise, how about this: I need to kill 15 vampires, and take two live ones. How much is each one worth to you that I -don't- kill outside o'the cult?" Valentin ignores the cigarette. He was a businessmen - all master tradesmen were - and he had a business matter to take care of before he could get back t'work. Kasyr may have also noted that the butcher didn't bat an eyelid at the notion of retaliation. That being said, Valentin responded to the revenant's final comment "Not heard from her since I had t'get some info out of an elf wench. But if there's a task which don't interfere with me work for th'Mistress, then I'm amenable, dependin' on th'pay."


Kasyr offers a lazy shrug, ears perking up, "Aye. Kyp there agreed to be a gofer in exchange for a duty to be done- which will inevitably fall on your shoulders. Which, will effectively double up your work load. Which isn't even counting that the offer to peruse Vailkrins dungeons still stands. Really, getting your choice of whatever stuck-up, domineering, wash-up that failed at life, and then at un-life, and with no risk or effort seems like an excellent way to save time and effort better spent towards other matters." The kensai shrugs, "That said, I was considering placing a bounty on some of those members he mentioned." A sour look is offered to the collapsed fellow in the cage, "Not the regular members, I'm afraid, since they seem to amount to little more than chattle. But those priests sounded interesting. I might be willing to negotiate on their retrieval. Since I'm curious as to their capabilities. And why they are coming here to get some of their people turned, instead of having their priests turn their flock. Something has to be off... Unless it's some sort of ridiculous Taboo."

Kasyr said, "...He spent like an hour talking about how great they'd be, and I downed him with a chair."

Kasyr is so disappointed, he may as well be emoting a :( expression.


Valentin had been looking forward to eradicating a household or two of the stuckup bastards he hated so much, but sometimes business pragmatism had to take priority "Alright, emptyin' your dungeons o'some of your lowlifes is a workable compromise. Get the warden t'line up seventeen o'the sods you'd like gotten rid of, an' I'll take 'em off your hands without causin' a rampage among y'regular citizens. Now, while I don't give a toss about the Novus' deal with th'Mistress - his debt is for the soul magic he wants worked, an' has nothin' t'do with the slayin' of th'cult - if y'make the bounty worthwhile enough, I may jus' go out of my way to kill a few. An' I s'pose it will give the Novus something to do now that I'm not goin' to be clearin' out a mansion or two."


Kasyr idly adds, "As a note, should you ever find evidence that a house or faction of a house -is- engaged in treasonous activities, and your findings were confirmed; I would be more than happy to allow you to go about your business. Though, I imagine that would be made easier once you figure out how to track those tattoo's. Still. You'd have free reign to go on a rampage in that instance, and I would even provide support if you requested it, whether personally or through subordinates." The revenant is all for sweetening deals- especially if it led to rooting out dissidents or individuals with questionable loyalties. "That said, yes- I'll see about getting a good number of prisoners available. Likely more than you asked for, so that you can choose those that best serve your needs." It's at that point that the Kensai places one cigarette to his lips, and stows the extra one up against his ear- adjusting the strap of the goggles on his head, so it was wedged beneath, "As for killing them- shoot me a figure. If I find it fair, I'll bite. if not. We'll negotiate. And hell, I'll come along. If they live up to all of Kyps hype, I might even end up paying you more. Those cullers too. Though they're apparently human enough." Mostly. Probably.


Valentin nods "Then we have an accord, guv. I'll stop by the prison in a day or two t'pick up the poor blighters her Grand Bitchiness desires. We can discuss th'matter o'the cult an' its priests once I've taken care o'that article o'business. As y'know, Tenebrae ain't the patient or forgivin' type. It don't do to annoy her or keep her waitin', I've found. Which is why I don't." The butcher touches his hand to the brim of his bowler hat "Be seein' you, guv. Adieu, an' all that." The butcher would then tromp off, creating new plans for what had now become a bit of extra free time.


Kasyr offers a lazy salute, "Have fun, et all that. Glad to be of service." With that done, the Kensai has errands of his own to run- and a Dark Man to bother.