RP:Cyris is Banned

From HollowWiki

Part of the The Prophet of Vakmatharas Arc


Summary: Zahrani seeks an audience with The King of Larket to discuss alternative methods to saving the kingdom's children that don't involve offering souls to Vakmatharas.

Larket Town Square

Zahrani walks the streets of Larket, keeping to the square and moving with the flow the crowd. The panther is clad in combination of robe and armor, the simple plate covering cloth padding on her arms and chest and leggings. A off-white hood covers a her black, tightly curled hair. Were it not for the black tail swishing behind her or the fur on her pointed ears, one might mistake her for a high elf that had seen a lot of sunlight. Her face is distinct from many northerners, with nut-brown skin, a wide-set nose, and deep-set cyan eyes. Most people around her ignore her, though she does get the occasional stare from both men and women. Some might recognize her; it's not her first time here, for her duties as a paladin often bring her here for study and for helping the common folk. For now, the one she seeks is anything but common. She surveys the crowd that she walks among, keeping an eye out for any sign of this town's ruler. She knows not what, or whom, to expect. A lone monarch? Both king and queen? An entourage? An ambush? This meeting was a risk, but in light of recent rumors about a performance to venerate Vakmatharas, she felt that now was as good a time as any to reach out.


Macon has sent a liaison, escorted by a member of the Royal Guard, Wendell, from The Fort. The pair ride in a royally extravagant horse drawn carriage and upon reaching the square both exit and approach Zahrani. The liaison, upon positive identification of the paladin, presents a note from The King suggesting that they have their meeting in the throne room at the fort rather than at the town square to protect Zahrani from any backlash that her potentially unpopular opinions might incite. The wording in the letter suggests that this meeting will occur at The Fort or not at all. The liaison, a male Sage Elf that moved north due to the blight, redundantly informs the panther that, “His Majesty requests you to accompany us to Fort Freedom. If you would,” and motions for her to join them in the carriage.


Zahrani turns towards the sound of the carriage, taking care to stay clear of its path. Upon receipt of the letter and carefully scrutinizing it and the carriage with a neutral gaze, the feline takes a deep breath, looking around at the crowd before turning to step into the carriage. The vehicle shifts with the weight of the woman's physique and armor. She appears calm; at least as calm as one can be when the weight of this city's woes. She can only imagine what's going through the Macon's mind. Perhaps she'll find out in due time.


Macon’s Royal Guardsman is silent inside the carriage unless addressed, while the elf happily plays his role as a face of The Fort’s public relations. “His Majesty is happy to see that there is excitement about the children of Larket finally being rescued from this terrible curse and is eager to hear what you have to say on this matter.”


Larket Throne Room

The ride to the edge of the city is hindered by a bit of traffic, but does not take particularly long. They pull in through the front gate and Zahrani is escorted directly through to the throne room. The elf announces the paladin to the king, bows and backs out of the room while Wendell remains at the door which will be his post for this meeting. Macon awaits in Jacklin’s throne, leaning forward slightly with his forearms atop his thighs. He is in his silvery armor and The Rage Axe stands unnaturally at attention to his left, it’s lone red eye that is The Rage Stone at the center of its ax head, seeming to stare down any that approach the dais. Josleen is not in attendance, and perhaps hasn’t even been informed of this meeting. The Rage Knight beckons Zahrani forward and greets the panther in his usual rough voice and Veratoakan accent. “Welcome. ‘Ave you traveled far t’be ‘ere?” Small talk, even this small amount, is somewhat unusual for this king and perhaps is a technique he is slowly picking up from his beautiful wife. He definitely does not care how far Zahrani has traveled.


Zahrani walks in perfect step with the Royal Guardsmen who escort her into the throne room. Her gaze occasionally alights on passing soldiers, the panther curious to see if she recognized any from the fight in Frostmaw. It felt like an entire lifetime ago. Kahran's Orcs had ambushed them, and Larketian soldiers arrived to help boost the Alliance's defense. In the heat of the fighting, the paladin found herself in a position where her best role would be to join the phalanx the Larketians had formed, using her divine aura to help bolster and inspire them. Sadly, she does not recognize anyone immediately. Upon entering the throne room, the paladin lowers her hood, revealing a head of carefully braided ebon hair with chiseled, androgynous features. One of those heart-breaker looks. Bright blue eyes scan Macon's demeanor and weapon, on the lookout for any hint of impatience. She stops several feet from the king, an aura of cautious serenity about her, as she responds to his attempt at small talk. "Traveling will always be as ubiquitous as breathing to me, sir." The woman's voice has a slight accent of its own, a mid-tenor and a feline rasp; though her current humanoid form adds clarity to her speech. "I will do my best not to take up too much of your time. I come to you with a difficult-but-potentially rewarding proposal, but first I have two questions: What did Vakmatharas offer you? And what will he ask for in return?" A pause. "I know there is a performance in honor of him, and I've heard official announcements, but...if you would, I would hear it from you." She stops and waits, mentally preparing for...well, anything.


Macon nods to the traveller and leans back out of his impatient posture while she asks her questions about the arrangement with Vakmatharas that appears to be at the heart of the situation in Larket. “It is jus’ as the people of Larket ‘ave already ‘eard. The God of Death is saving the lives of children from the Witches’ Curse… He asks nothin’ more than any other god might; Faith.” He pauses and looks for a reaction from the panther, one he expects to be similar to a scoff, but how do cats look when they scoff? “The details tha’ led up t’this -miracle- are the subjec’ of the play you speak of. Which I will give no previews of now.” This is meant to be said tongue-in-cheek, but as always it just sounds like he is growling out his words. “All will be made clear should you attend a showin’. Now wha’ does this porposal entail?”


Zahrani 's face remains neutral as she listens to the man's answer. Macon certainly speaks with a strong conviction; he appears to believe his own words. At the King's question, she responds. "I am not so much concerned about worship as I am about compulsory worship. These people should not have to bind themselves to any god, just so their children can have a normal life. And...neither should you." Her words are deliberate, and there is clear compassion in her voice. "I desire to not just end the curse, but to reverse it. These children deserve their stolen years returned to them, as do their parents. But so much time has passed, so much has happened, the solution to reversing the curse is obscured. Finding the answer through mundane eyes would take too long; too many children would be lost. To reverse it in time, we need the sight of a Divine. The clerics I've studied with know of a ritual called Searchlight that would give you such knowledge, and the freedom to do with it as you see fit. You don't have to give your life, or any other life, to Cyris as a sacrifice." She knows enough about Vakmatharas to know that he's the type of diety that always wants more for his continued favor. "But the clarity and completeness of such sight is proportional to what you are willing to exchange for it." It's not a ritual to be taken lightly; divine truth thrust into the mind of a mortal can change you, or drive you mad, if you're careless or unfocused.


Macon tilts his head and the gem at the center of the ax head to his left radiates a furious aura that resonates with the one coming from the king himself at the same time. “I agree,” he growls low, “We should not -’ave- t’do this t’save Our children, but the -monsters- tha’ cursed them ‘ave made it so that we do.” He stands and glares down towards the paladin. “‘Ow many thieves and charlatans do you think ‘ave stood where you are standin’ now and said wha’ you are sayin’!? I ‘ave never stopped trying to end this curse, and I won’ stop tryin’ t’find a way t’reverse it, but wha’ you are suggestin’ is tha’ I throw away somethin’ tha’ is workin’ now, saving Larket’s children -now-, for a promise from a foreigner tha’ there is a better way. And you have the nerve t’look down on Us for acceptin’ this miracle from The Death God while in the same breath you bargain for -clarity and completeness of sight-” He spits the last word out in anger, overcoming his accent for a moment. “No. I will not ‘ear this. Where were these clerics while Larket cried for a solution? I will not entertain this and see my kingdom become a battleground of the gods so that Cyris can spit in Vakmatharas’s eye. -I- ‘ave saved our children, you and your sect will ‘ave t’live with the fact that The Death God did what your diety couldn’t. I will not let you risk plunging the city back into the clutches of this curse on the promise of -sight-.”


Zahrani stands firm, taking in controlled, deliberate breaths as the man's rage washes past her. Her response is measured. "You are not the only one who has spent their time looking for a solution. Our chapel is literally outside the city." She gestures out the door. "There are many who have come to it and have found protection from the curse within its walls while we searched high and low for an answer, only to find competing interests spreading many opinions, but not a lot of facts." Her cyan gaze meets the king's. "Trust me when I say you are not the first person I have asked for help." She closes her eyes, inhales, then exhales. "Fortunately, Vakmatharas' 'miracle' has bought us all some time to continue that search for a reversal, though I doubt he has such an interest in mind. Let people flock to him if they wish; all I care about is reversing this curse. You also have more time to consider what you are willing to do to free your people and your son." The panther takes half a step back, crossing her arms, "How long before he decides that faith alone is not enough to keep the curse at bay?" The question she dared not ask right now was: ~How long before the God of Death demands you place your son on his altar to keep his favor? Or your Queen?~ "It's clear that I am not welcome here, but I do not need an answer from you now. Let Vakmatharas have his little campaign. If the coming days prompt you to change your mind, shall I tell you the quickest way to reach the ritual?" The panther is more than prepared to leave, but ultimately waits for Macon to tell her to.


Macon looms from atop the dais, almost looking as if he is about to pounce down and deal with this threat to Larket’s children with his own two hands. “I do not think you understand wha’ I ‘ave said,” he says through gritted teeth. “No, I am not the only one tha’ was lookin’ for a solution. I am the only one tha’ -found- one.” He matches Zahrani’s half-step backwards with a forward one of his own. “Let me me perfectly clear. The cure that is workin’ and savin’ lives at this very momen’ is based on faith. I will not ‘ave you undermine tha’. There will be no ritual within this kingdom. If you and those clerics attempt somethin’ that jeopardizes the children We ‘ave saved, I will hold you personally responsible for what ‘appens.” He narrows his stare, “You are aware of wha’ We did with the last person t’arm Larket’s children?” As far as he knows, the person in question, Valrae, was executed… twice.


Zahrani appears unfased by the man's looming. Shaking her head, she simply states, "Faith is nothing without doubt, and Vakmatharas will use both to keep you from what you need. But know that I will do nothing to harm Larket's children whilst I am a paladin of Cyris." Quite the opposite, in fact. With Macon's help, hopefully, as much as she doesn't really want it. As King of Larket, he has exactly the sort of offering that would not only give him the truth, but the means to use it. "I'll not trouble you any more with my presence today." The paladin steps back, keeping her eyes on the king before turning to leave, her tail tucked around her in a retreating gesture. You know, to show Macon that he got his point across.


Macon growls and violently waves Zahrani away. Wendell takes this cue from the king and opens the door for the paladin to exit through. The Rage Axe moves on its own once the panther is gone, bringing itself into the Death Knight’s hand. He levels the ax head in the direction of the lone Kingsguard, “‘Ave the chapel monitored. If they try anythin’, put an end t’it immediately...” Wendell nods and exits soon after to relay these marching orders to the Larket guard.


Zahrani passes a note off to Wendell before she leaves. A set of instructions. "Just in case," she says to the man, whom she trusts will deliver the folded letter to the king. The clerics would offer healing services, respite, and spiritual protection and guidance to the soldiers and their families, just like they always have in happier times. The Chapel, and this Fort dubbed ~Freedom~ have been here since long before Macon, and they will be here long after he is gone.