RP:Culling the Herd

Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc

Summary: Lady Collete Nasar gives Elioyahazer his first assignment as a member of her house: to cull House Dragana's presence in Vailkrin. Mass carnage ensues as the desert born and those who've suddenly come to pledge their allegiance to him after the besting of Larewen cut through House Dragana's forces, effectively rendering Larewen's military presence non-existent within city limits.

OOC Note: NPC played by Lady Larewen herself.

Nightshade Avenue

Collete Nasar strolls casually down Nightshade Avenue, pale hands stuffed into pockets. Her black tresses are drawn upward into a loose but fashionable bun, and she's cloaked in dark leathers befitting a rogue. It's the most the woman's been seen outside of her estate in quite some time, having previously worked behind the lines to send her assassins and guards after Larewen Dragana. Those attacks had failed, though. Painted lips lock into a smirk as cold eyes roamed to and fro along the road. House Nasar's standing has drastically increased the last few nights. Thanks to Elioyahazer. More like-minded individuals that wish to stand against the madwoman that wished to be called Queen had come, bolstering Nasar's own personal forces. Behind her, a pair of trained assassins walk.

Elioyahazer has spent the last two nights recuperating and regenerating the wounds he sustained from Larewen; after having it cleaned and stitched properly. Having spent the last two days at rest, there has been something troubling him. Dreams. Livid. Violent. Blood soaked dreams have somehow crept into his world. The macabre, brutal call of his mind for gore has grown drastically. Though his thoughts are losing the battle with Larewens corrupted blood - he finds himself relishing in these moments. Empowered and above others. As such, the man stands defiant of the surrounding people who give quick glances and murmur about his recent deeds. His armor, light, and faded black with a single sleeve of metal running up his left arm. From beneath the shadows, provided by the hood of his cloak, Eli spots his new patron. She is still a target, but one he must follow for a short while. In a moment he approaches her, despite the guards. “I am ready, Lady Nasar.” She would know what he meant.

Lady Nasar's smirk softens into a hint of a smile at Elioyahazer's words. Unaware of the nightmares that plague him, she shows no concern. Those blue eyes study his form, seeking any signs of the wounds that had been inflicted on him. She is doubtful to some degree. He'd only just defeated Larewen--whom strangely enough has not been seen in public since. Now is the time to strike, and if Elioyahazer says he's ready, it's enough for the Nasar matron to begin with the first of his orders. "The madwoman's retreated to somewhere, following her humiliating defeat at your hands," she admires out loud. "Now is the time to strike. Her forces gather around the gate to Vailkrin; she's held dthe region in which the Hanging Corpse stands for some time. Given our dealings of ill-repute, this needs to change. We cannot conduct our business, when we cannot access our sources. Your assignment, Elioyahazer, is to clear those forces from the city. Kill them and we will collect the bodies. Dragana is not the only necromancer in this city. What we need--and can likely appeal to Trintus for help with--is our own army with which to fight her back. Your deeds have brought us a boon. Several trained in the art of fighting have been arriving on our doorsteps, swearing their loyalty to you and to our House. With those assets, we stand a chance of closing in on her and ending her." Her smirk returns. "Something I'll give you the pleasure of doing."

Elioyahazer is near the peak of physical condition, and she would find no visible fault with his form. The wounds wouldn't even be a minor set back now. Fledglings do feed often. When she speaks of a few Necromancers who swear loyalty to himself, there is a questioning glance thrown to Lady Nasar. I've heard of no such thing, he thinks. “I will need to meet these new troops and have an oath from them myself.” Though she is a wealthy merchant and head of a house, he's not to sure about this. Of course, it wouldn't just be those few soldiers. Even citizens he's not met before have said much the same. No matter. Such things will only help the founding of his new house. “Very well. I understand your position. Am I to go alone with these newly acquired assets?”

Collete contemplates his query for some time. With an open, upward faced palm, she gestures in the direction of her House. "I'm certain they'll be eager to do just that. Dragana has caused us nothing but strife since she lost her mind and decided that Kasyr's abdicated throne should be hers. What she desires will undo the stability that our former rulers instilled. She will bring ruin to us all, and these arrivals vow to extinguish the threat she poses to our very existence. We've suffered enough," she says. Cold eyes glitter brightly. "I can accompany you, if you so wish. But you'll find your new assets to be of far more help than myself."

Elioyahazer honestly can't wait to cut this snide, snobbish lady down and can already picture the blood dripping out from that pretty little neck and pooling around her carcass. Instead of such gore riddled emotions, a less complicated one surfaces on his face - a simple smile. “I would appreciate the company.” The sandman nods once to her, and then to her own guards who seem to be rather quiet in the background. Collette is certainly placing her eggs all in one basket. A basket which has had zero interaction with Larewen and her allies since the fight. The fledgling begins to walk with her, towards whatever destination. “Your help in the coming battle shouldn't be required. If I'm unable to succeed, you lose nothing but a fledgling and gain a chance to attack the same place with your own troops against a weakened force.” Elioyahazer smiles once more, devilishly. “I will show you the might of what you have acquired.” If only she knew the truth. That in the end her whole house might fall to his schemes.

Vailkrin City Road

Elioyahazer is an enigma. That is, little is known about the fledgling. But he'd defeated Larewen once, and Collete fully believes he can--and will--do so again. She's caught in his trap, and completely unaware of it. She guides Elioyahazer north then west, toward the Hanging Corpse and where the Dragana guards lingered openly. Here, there were no more knights of House Trintus; only the verdant and ebon colors of House Dragana upon armed forces. "I expect you'll do just that," Collete says, motioning to the two assassins that accompany her. A simple gesture has both men at Elioyahazer's side, their faces stoic. War is war, and though they feel a rush of thrill at the idea of striking a blow to House Dragana, they are also fully aware that things aren't always what they seem. The true strength of Dragana's forces were unknown, with those guarding entry into the city being the crazed woman's preventing further investigation. There were rumors though of all sorts of monsters appearing within the confines of the dark forest. That would be their second target.

Elioyahazer turns his features to Collette once. “Send the new assets here behind me. Tell them Elioyahazer…” He suddenly had a thought. I don't want the legacy of a man. I need a new name. His mind stumbles for only a moment. “Jalal calls them to fight against the mad woman.” When she backs away his gaze moves to the dragana guards. I'm sorry Larewen, he thinks for only a moment. This is going to hurt. Like a phantom, Eli descends upon the Dragana rabble. Sword in hand. A frenzied nightmare taking arms, legs and limbs with every strike. He is a menace and fueled with the thoughts of gore. Using the body of one guard to block the blows of another. The two who had chosen to follow, couldn't keep up and sought to follow at their own pace. Finally, with only minor wounds Elioyahazers hungry eyes take a gander at his bloodstained form. And then to the assassins. The gate was clear. The battle is only just beginning

Collete Nasar gives only a dip of her head in response to Elioyahazer's orders. Normally, she isn't one to listen to another telling her what to do, but this is extenuating circumstances. Backing away from Elioyahazer, the woman reaches to her hip, where a flare has been attached to her belt. It seems as if the matriarch expected his request to be made. Lighting it, Collete bent back slightly and drew her arm even further behind her before hurling it into the air with the sort of strength only a vampire could possess. It flies high. High enough that those newly acquired troops see it and respond. By the time Elioyahazer has finished clearing the entrance to the city, they have arrived. Several dozen of them, to be exact. Some vampires, others undead, united together in a common cause: the demise of Larewen Dragana. Collete remains unaware of his thoughts, of the expressed sympathy for what Elioyahazer is doing; she only looks forward to the woman's fall. The soldiers came to a stop behind the Lady Nasar, eyes fixing on Elioyahazer. There is hope etched into the creases of their faces: to them, the desert born is a potential savior. "You'll find more of her forces throughout this part of the city. Eliminate them, and the blow will be dealt.

Elioyahazer nods only once to Nasar. Take this area by force. The idea is simple enough, but in practice, things shall be different. Elioyahazer draws himself up to his full height before the group - his eyes still filled with that lusting hunger. He was no saint sent to salvage Vailkrins war. But none of these soldiers knew that. Eli would tweak their mind to his will in time, but beneath his banner they are protected, so long as they fight for his cause. “Tonight we loosen the grip of Larewen.” His voice bellows his command, though this is truth, in the end it will only strengthen. “Or we die trying.” Elioyahazers serious gaze is backed by silence. By the blood stained armor he already wears. “We are not mere cattle to be herded. We are fearsome beasts. Vampire. Undead. Creatures meant to bring havoc on mortal kind. Tonight we let our fangs and claws out. We prove to her that this group here.” A single digit points to himself and then to the soldiers. “Are strong and we will not break. We are unyielding.” In truth this goes with Larewens own thoughts. The weak will be weeded out. Without further words Eli turns and opens the gate. “On me.” The group moves together into whatever hell Larewen has built.

While Elioyahazer makes his speech, Collete slips away from the gathered soldiers and the desert born. Instead, she has a different idea in mind. Another preparation had been made in anticipation of this attack, and lagging behind the sworn fighters was a messenger of her own--carrying bloodied spikes that previously held the heads of her own sirelings. Turning, Collete spots his approach and waves him over, removing from one of her boots a sharpened dagger. It's edge is razor keen as she approaches one of fallen guards and sets about severing his head. With an arm extended to the messenger, her palm is soon filled with one of the pikes and she rams it through the Dragana guard's skull. She does this a second time and approaches the city's entrance. Driving them into the ground, she hangs their sigils above the skulls, the House Dragana emblem dangling over twisted features. She repeats this process two more times, and this time walks briskly down to the Hanging Corpse. Outside its entrance, she plants the pikes again. The body parts could still be used, if they are gathered, but it seems Collete has done as much as she intends to presently: further Larewen's humiliation publicly.

Elioyahazer and his troop gave no sign of following Collette. Therefore she is left to stake her own claim in this battle. Instead, the desert born and company sweep through the area like a tide of ravenous monsters - salivating over the thought of battle this night. They March behind the cloaked desert born ready to follow his command. It isn't long before Elioyahazer spots the first area to attack. With a simple raise of his hand, they all halt. Just what has Jalal discovered? A grin besmirches his ashen features.

Two armed guards bearing crests of House Dragana stand around corner, fully aware of what had happened between the city's entrance and the tavern. One was vampire, the other undead. The latter felt his comrades fall through that shared thread of magic. When Elioyahazer rounds that turn, they look up. They know the fate that's about to befall them before it even does and while the vampire, sired by Larewen himself, takes up his sword, the ghoul raises his hands in surrender. This act of treachery from his comrade has the vampire turning on him, driving his blade suddenly into the ghoul's skull. Then, the vampire turns and runs deeper into the city, invariably leading Elioyahazer and his troops to a small gathering of Dragana guards. "It's time," the vampire cries to them, turning to face the way from which he'd come. When Elioyahazer catches up to them, the guards go on the offensive and charge him and those soldiers. Blades drawn, they charge forward, the aforementioned vampire seeking to engage Elioyahazer directly while the others target those that follow the fledgling. The vampire's blade lifts high, swinging down at an angle to cut from shoulder to opposite hip. One of those wearing the Dragana regalia stood behind though, and closer inspection revealed this one to be a woman. Judging by her casting, possibly a necromancer. Her magic seeps into the ground beneath the impending fighting, coaxing skeletal hands to the surface. Fleshless fingers seek purchase around ankles with the intent of pulling their victims straight into the ground.

The group that follows Eli into battle are like marauders - dressed in a plethora of different types of armor. Swords, shield Spears pukes and axes stare down the Dragana guards without hesitation. Under Elioyahazers yell the charge voraciously into the oncoming attack answering Dragana with brute Force and brutality. The guard who targets the desert born might find himself stunned; for instead of dodging Eli steps in - close enough to feel the cinnamon skinned males breath upon his features. The slash meets the fledglings armor at the base of the sword. Denting and tearing it, but no more. With a grunt of pain Eli continues his momentum and shoulder charges the enemy. Flinging him away like a dog sheds water. Eli lifts a hand and summons magic to once again riddled the scene with fire. The necromancer in the background is about to comment face to face with a fireball. However, something is wrong. The fledgling closes his fist to explode his projectile and nothing happens. He's stunned long enough that a blade digs into his side. He nearly howls out in pain, but reacts by taking the head of his assailant. The troop however continues their assault some grabbed by bony hands, while others leap away.

The necromancer watches as one of the guards is beheaded, though she's delighted that at least some of the men fell to those pulling grasps to be sucked under the ground. There, the owners of those skeletal hands reach for them, seeking to tear at armor and limbs--anything to prevent them from climbing back to the surface. One by one, the guards fall to the blades of their foes, but the sound of skirmish has brought reinforcements from around the area. More Dragana forces pour in around Elioyahazer and his group, determined to take down as many with them as they can. They know they are not returning home after this fight. Convinced there's still a chance though, the necromancer doesn't waver. Again she's casting, and this time the when those hands surface, they are followed by skeletons. They take up the arms of the fallen and wield them against the soldiers, but this takes most of the necromancer's concentration: she is open to attack.

Elioyahazer simply refuses to let this Necromancer continue living. This fiend casting from the distance. Instead Elioyahazer impales his bastard sword into the belly of another Dragana guard. Pulls a two handed axe from the cold dead hands of a former ally and hurls it end over end to utterly destroy that castor. His blade is snagged once more, and yanked with a violent disregard for the life of the guard. The battle is chaos. Screams of dying men and women everywhere. Carcassass begin to litter the streets. His own men fighting to break free of those skeleton hands or cutting down Dragana guards. When more arrive Eli goes proactive. Summoning that fireball once more and sending it straight into the heart of incoming troops. The desert born cuts another for down, saving a member of his own troop. “Hold here men!” A roar soon ensues, it seemed they were all in.

The guards begin to fall one by one. The reinforcements come, joining in the fray. That blast of fire almost incinerates several of the newly arrived Dragana troops, leaving the remaining to skirt crispy bodies. It's their turn to lunge into battle, but their numbers are dwindling fast. The hewn axe buries itself into the necromancer's chest, not quite killing her, but bringing her to her knees. The skeletons crumble. Her hands raise to the axe's haft and she grunts, pulling it free before collapsing forward onto her hands and knees. Blood pours from the woman's chest. Dark and virulent. Grey eyes lift, fixing on Elioyahazer, watching as he takes out another soldier. Unable to help her fellow House members, she is simply forced to watch. Weakness spreads to every limb of the vampiric necromancer. She clutched the sigil around her neck, ripping the crest from the thinly cut leather that held it in place and hurled it at Elioyahazer's feet. Less than half a dozen House Dragana guards remain, and half of them continue to fight while the other two lay down their blades and step back, hands held up in surrender. They follow the necromancer's lead, casting aside their crests as they look upon their fallen comrades.

With a mighty chop of his sword another guard falls to the ground and is welcomed into the loving embrace of Vakmathras. The troop struggles for only moments longer, cleaning up the few who don't surrender. Elioyahazer grabs his side and moves towards the necromancer. “You've cast aside your sigil. I take -no- prisoners.” His voice is loud enough for all those who have surrendered. “You either perform a blood oath and swear fealty to me under the pain of death or I end your life here and now.” The hungry look in his eyes tells all he has zero problem killing unarmed people. The desert borns troop lets out a battle cry, screaming victory elated to see the end of a fight. “Choose.” His words are cold and harsh.

The three survivors stare at Elioyahazer. The mouth of the men falls open, gawking, but they look to the fallen woman for their answer. After all, necromancers are held in higher regard within their House, and they'd follow the grey-eyed woman. She looks up at Elioyahazer from her place on the ground, her essence slipping away: she would take time to heal and recover, but she gives the faintest nod of her head. There is shame in her expression, guilt for forsaking her would-be queen, but she agrees. The two guards move to her side, helping the struggling vampire to her feet. "We will swear fealty to you," one of the men says, his voice gruff.

Elioyahazer stares into the Necromancers eyes without yielding, she is beneath him - he doesn't give a pile of troll dung about the order of things in her house. What made things rather funny though, is that these three would still be serving Dragana, in a roundabout way. “Good.” Elioyahazer turns to his troops. “Those who are wounded, seek healing and shelter. Escort these three new pledges to a healer as well. Stand guard until they've sworn to me. Once you've seen to yourselves, meet me at Nasars gates to report in. I'll have all your oaths tonight.” Without further with he nods and his troop sets into motion. He was asked to sack the area, not guard it. Before long they all clear the area. It seems battle was over this day.

A cloaked figure watches the battle from one of the alleyways, hidden by shadows. It is Larewen Dragana herself, her magic dampened once more by a spell. She can't afford to be seen, let alone felt. As her men and women fall to Elioyahazer's blade, a pang erupts in her chest and absent mindedly, the necromancer raises her right hand to clutch at her heart. That is something the elf cannot disguise, though. Ears well attuned might even hear the pulsating thumps as corrupted blood pumps through her system. Her eyes close as she listens to the last few remaining forces within the city drop their loyalty to her to swear it to Elioyahazer. Larewen's rage worsens, and it takes every ounce of self-control for the necromancer not to reveal herself. Instead, she slips away from the carnage and makes her way to the graveyard, where she's certain she won't be found. There, she quietly mourns her loss.