RP:Facing the Nemesis

From HollowWiki

Part of the Incarnation of Abomination Arc


Summary: A quiet evening for Ari, Rho and friends becomes an unpleasant encounter and skirmish with their nemisis Helich. (Heltri)

Characters: Heltri, Arien, Rhocielle, Keturah

Location: Rynvale; Arien’s Island Retreat.



Arien nudged the weight of a stone against the front door where it swung open wide onto the porch steps, emerald gaze lifting to skim the multihued horizon as the sun slid finally below the blue line. Beneath her bare soles the wooden planks of the wraparound porch made her curl her toes inwards, a soft sigh of contentment allowed to slip past pale lips. It was good to be home. Much as she loved the bustle of the compound and the inside knowledge of the loop that being in the heart of Kelay provided, the island would remain her safe place, her retreat, and it would be where she would raise her family. A gentle breeze, warmed by the heated sand lifted tresses from her nape as she turned inward to the house again, lifting the glass of chilled fruit juice to her lips. How she missed her evening brandy. In the increasing shadows of their home, her gaze sought the form of her mate. It was another reason she was happy to be home-he was actually here, with her, and not off with the labors that seemed never to stop of late. And yet, there remained work to be done, for only the foolish ignored trouble by plunging heads into the sand. “You have been busy wolf.. And I suspect I know upon what business. What have you learned of the black?”

Rhocielle was, much to his begrudgment and the teasing of his mate, not to wear anymore clothing than necessary, so that she would have proper time to detain him from leaving abruptly. With only a pair of trousers to cover his black furred body, the wolfen male paced slowly around the house before at last submitting to the peace. He came to her and wrapped both arms around his elven mate, resting his muzzle against her neck. He had to remove himself from grim thoughts. Here, in the villa, there was only her and their children. His fur tipped ear flicked at her questioning, "Mahri is the one that controls him apparently, or owns him... She allows him some freedoms, but the dragon is bonded to her through some necromancy... I'll try to learn more next time I meet with her..."

Keturah :: The week had gotten away from her. It tended to do so, if the clinics were particularly busy. The trickle of patients had been no larger than before, though a few illnesses a scant few patients had developed kept Keturah in their homes more often than in her own clinic. Perhaps she had forgotten her newly rediscovered human susceptibility to disease, or as was more likely the case, cared little. The desert-born had, after all, waited a full two days away from any patients to be sure she was healthy herself before returning to her usual duties. One of them, before she were called away again to that certain house, was to visit Arien. Inked fingertips brushed away the sand that clung to the velvet of her gown, bare feet sinking almost comfortingly into the sand with each step she took along the beach to the familiar shape of the villa. The corners of her lips curved into a warmer smile, before faltering briefly. She was early to see to the children. By how many days? Fuzzily she thought back to the time spent running between clinics and patients, before she all too sheepishly lifted her hand to scratch at the back of her head. The druidess would have wanted to see the couple anyway; it certainly felt as though it had been too long. Slowly, she brought herself to the porch, moss-green eyes settling upon the stone that held the door propped open. She had not thought to knock; at least not until she heard the voices inside. Rapping vine covered knuckles against the door, the druidess took a step inside. "Salaam~. Evening~. Sorry.. I am to be intruding, yes." She most likely was, but she was already shamelessly inside the door.

Arien had leaned her head into the brush of that dark muzzle, closing her eyes to better savor the sensation of the embrace of his fur lined torso against the cool thinness of the silk of the robe that was wrapped loosely and comfortably around her body. Her palm came to settle over the paw like hand that cradled the increasing swell of her womb. Had it really been a mere five days since she had seen Keturah last? Her girth had seemed to increase noticeably in the passing days. The thoughtful frown that graced her face as she responded to her husband was not initially the result of her natural concern for the news that he had revealed, though it did not take much for that to be the case. “ Mahri.. controls Helich? But they are the bitterest of enemies. Why would she permit him life at all, if such power is in her hands?” she mused quietly, almost to herself. “Yes, make what progress you can in determining what lays at the bottom of that tangle,” she added. It would be the soft sound of the knock on the door that would cause the elf to turn in the wolf’s embrace, eyes seeking the door, only to light up with the joy of welcome. “Keturah!.. I begin to think you the daughter of the gods. How do you always know to show up just when I wish to see you most? How fare you sister?”

Rhocielle nodded in confirmation to what he had said. "Aye... she said she wish to control his own power as a weapon for herself." All in all, it did not bode well that such a woman had control over the black dragon. Before he could continue in their conversation, he tilted his gaze towards the now open door as Keturah entered. For the moment, his lack of clothing was obstructed from view by Arien's figure now resting against him. "Good eve, Keturah," he said, the Lycan's muzzle resting over the elf's shoulder. Both paw like hands held her swelling stomach affectionately. As the High Elf already asked about Keturah's own wellbeing, there was nothing more for the wolf to add, save for a fond smile to show his own appreciation of her visit.

Keturah , as seemed to becoming her habit of late, allowed her gaze to seek those of the others before dropping to the swell of the highborn's womb. It was with a healer's assessment, and some puzzlement welling behind an earthen toned gaze that the druid's gaze traced over the mother-to-be's shape. Twas, bigger.. than she had expected. A soft coo past her lips before moss-green eyes lifted to meet those of the two again, and the smile broke all the larger across her features.. "Good evening, Lady Arien, Rho." Curly head bobbed with each name. "I am well enough. Early to see you, yes?" She scratched idly at her cheek, gaze flickering between the two as she spoke. "And how fares the family?" Her tongue appeared from between her lips wetting them briefly before she continued, "All is well, yes? Or- ah.. I was to be interrupting, yes?" She laughed softly. "I should send missives before spontaneous arrivals, no?"

Arien flashed the druid a warm smile, her fiery head instinctively shaking in denial. “Not at all Ket, our doors are always open to family, and that is what you are. So long as you do not mind catching us as we truly are..we shall always be glad to have you.” She murmured quietly. “Come in…have a seat.. you can never be too early for the babes, so far as I am concerned,” she said with a teasing grin. “I have grown more used to their drain upon my life force, but I must admit, it still seems more than I would have thought it to be.” With a soft squeeze of that wolfen paw, Arien eased out of her husband’s embrace and crossed the common room to kneel, almost awkwardly now with her new center of balance, before the low fire. Kindling was added, causing it to leap to life. In the refracted rays of light that beat back night’s shadows, an almost crystalline and winking brilliance might catch the eye. Placed much as one would a piece of art, or some treasured thing, the temporal fragment that the elf had retrieved from the site that was once the missing Hallowed Grove sat in open display. The thrum of energy it released steadily would be unfelt by natural senses, the subtle influences at a molecular level to those things in its environment likewise-save for the cells that multiplied with ever increasing rapidity in the womb of the female. Somewhere..likely in this house, the second fragment, likewise retrieved by her wolf, emitted its own variant of this energy. And yet the occupants remained unaware of their taint. “Rho..” the elf called softly, “Can you get Keturah something to drink love? I do hope we have something stronger than juice left in the house..” Her pale nose wrinkled.

Rhocielle was loathe to remove his paws from her, but his claws gingerly scratched at her stomach. Now bereft of an elf, the wolfen male crossed his arms over his furred chest to look on towards their desert-born friend. "It is good that you have come, Keturah... Hrm, the pups grow rather quickly. I do not think that there has ever been an elf that had a Lycan as her mate... I am glad you are here to help us through this...," he admitted. While quite fond of the idea of children of mixed heritage, he was after all a cautious male. Her safety, and that of the children was paramount. Glancing to Arien, he gave a swift dip of his muzzle, "Aye. What would you like to drink, Keturah?" Without waiting for an answer, he was already out of the common room and towards the kitchen area. Still, he could overhear any drink orders either of the women might call out to him.

Keturah 's cheeks reddened slightly, and it took a good deal for her to keep her hand from lifting to cover the far too large smile upon her face. Ah, she loved them, both of them, the family. Reining in her expression, the druidess tilted her head, gaze following the departing lycan. "Oh.." She frowned, hands raising as though to halt the wolf in his steps. Her nose wrinkled, and she shook her head. That patient, might have needed her. That, and.. Gaze lowered to the elf's stomach once more, her brows furrowing together. "Actually.. I should wait those last two days before checking up. I have a patient as well.. who is a little ill. I might check on a few others who are a little under the weather. If you are well? At least that way I've a week of growth to go by, no?" She smiled, pensively, hand lifting to scratch the back of her head. "Sorry, for coming in so suddenly and disappearing. Tis awful of me." With a quickly sketched bow, the druidess turned and began to depart. "Perhaps I would be back later tonight though, chal?" She would just do her rounds before then. With an apologetic wave the woman was out the door as quickly as she had arrived.

Arien rose from her place by the fire, her eyes turning to follow the druid as she made her way to the door. Fiery head nodded in assurance and agreement. “I am well enough..and it may be better that we keep accurate records,” she said quietly to the departing female. We can do the examination in two days as agreed. But please, don’t hesitate to come this way again if you finish your rounds early enough.” she added with a smile. “Though you will have to knock next time. The hour grows too late for an open door, even in times of peace.” Her smile bid the healer farewell, even as her eyes turned toward the wolf to bid him silently to new task. ~The door darling, on you way back?~ Already she was moving toward the comfort of the couch, looking forward to spending the quieter moments of the evening alone with her mate.

Rhocielle peered out the threshold that led in to the kitchen. The desert-born was already on her way out. "Farewell," he called out, though unsure if Keturah would hear as he made his way toward the front door after a nod was given to the elf in passing. Locking the door for the night, the pair would not be expecting any further visitors. "Nothing has been said about the ferry in some time, Arien. I doubt it is over, but still... It has been quite some time..." Returning to her, the wolfen male collapsed lazily into the chair nearest her, a paw patting his lap invitingly.

Heltri :: Up the winding path, through fish market - his presence was undeniable. The feral beasts, insects, nay light itself refrained from gracing his presence. Most shied away. Even the heart of a Rynvalian soldier, a grunt, would be little against just a passing glance - an uncontrolled trait of his crimson orbs. Stealth and concealment were his method, Lithrydel allowing shadow to cascade his stilled ebon robes - a natural Drow illusion adding more - and suffering through the brief lapse in alliance. Shadow didn't like him. A wolf howled - whimpered, retreated into higher hills as the male made his way down winding path unperturbed. Unknown. Unknown even to himself even, it would be a hard thing to tell. Soon he came upon steps - he made no qualm at hiding his presence. Never a knock came on that door, but he stood in front of it. He knew if she was here - even if Rhocielle were here...they would sense it. The evil. The depth of darkness where fortitute shattered like bleached glass, reality returned from the depths of a flash. An irrational Hell. An irrational nightmare. Weakness. He'd not recovered from - any of it, and yet here he was sif for some unknown reason but had an subconsciously placed idea that if he in fact waited, whatever had brought him was sure to reveal itself. A quietly whispered word carried by wind - a growl under his breath. Arien.

Arien was in the middle of lowering herself into Rho’s embrace when she paused mid action. An odd contrast of occurrences would happen then; first the elf’s already pale skin took on the pallor of death, before a sudden spike in her mana would draw an audible, soft hiss of discomfort from the female. It had always been thus, the physical discomfort she felt in the presence of the darkness that was so opposed to her light. Not so much that she would be unable to function, but enough that she would never be caught unawares. Her fingers tightened their grip on her husband’s bare shoulders. There were few who could walk in a darkness so potent and twisted-but she could not be sure. Her eyes flew first to the silvery orbs of the wolf, and then to the twin enchanted daggers that lay within arms reach on the coffee tables. Even at her leisure she was never unarmed. Her voice, when it came was raw..but the fear that dragged along her spine was held in check. Her children. “Someone is here Rho..someone..something..dark.” she uttered. And still she had not moved, held captive by the darkness that demanding response of her innermost soul.

Rhocielle canted his head at his mate, though even he did not ignore the bristling of his black fur. He reacted as an animal would, to investigate. Nodding silently to her, he gently shifted Arien to slip from his embrace. He made his way cautiously to the front door of the house, the leathern soles of his feet silencing what would be the telltale sounds of his approach. The enchanted blades that hung on bracers near the entrance hummed so violently that they nearly rattled within their scabbards. So odd that even they would react to whatever evil was near. The thought only crossed his mind before he was extending his paw like hand outward to the door. "Let the light always guide my path...," he uttered almost inaudibly, closing his own eyes as his palm flared to life. Whether Heltri had the sense to keep away from the windows near the door or even cover his eyes in the first place, the sudden bathing of divine light near the black dragon would nevertheless be an uncomfortable sensation at the very least. This villa was his home. He could fight blind if needed to and therefore did not hesitate a moment in reaching out for the blade of his mate and his own. Graceful even in the aftermath of such blinding light, he backpedaled quickly to the common room to offer the sheathed icy blade to his mate while his own was now held in his paw.

Rhocielle casts full cure. A blinding blue wave of light surrounds Rhocielle, healing them for 666.

Heltri :: Divine light be damned - Heltri swallowed it whole, it could be compared to a man-made wind tunnel - all the beams of light meant to fix the area in that divine light -- were absorbed, and rebounded back as an even darker energy directly at Rhocielle and the interior of the home. An uncontrolled measure. His body reacted, his mind - it observed. Weakness was a fact true - more true than that sudden absorbtion of the Light matter. Nay. It was not enough. Not enough. He flinched not a hair - the male had no weakness in a spiritual sense. If anything, he was brimming with it - an uncontrolled power. Magic - physically, he was weak as a babe..but Rhocielle would be found childs play if a trick like that graced him again. Uncontrolled as it was, it proved to be a protection. Now came words between the moment of stillness with blade in hand. "Pause." A commanding tone, one he was certain the Lycan would ignore - so his drowen guise tensed, ready to take whatever steps necesary to relinquish his foe of control. A hopeless cause. Something had brought him here. Determination to find out, and further his own gains - that is what kept him here. Arien though - such Light, in such proximity to his Dark...the energies..they recoiled against eachother, ripples rolling over heading toward the center of two freshly dropped stones. How long until those ripples would reach pond's edge, and come back again? And what would be the consequence? The feeling she brought about in him - oil seperating from water. He felt clean. She would probably feel the oil slicking against her skin. A sickening metaphor, but too true. He made no entrance into the home after Rhocielle had retreated. A quiet lump of black outside the door, shadow began to etch away from him - light as well. A gray began to engulf the male. A pale, dead gray. A lifeless gray. Lithrydel still refused to accept him.

Arien found herself reaching out toward the wolf as he left her, as if she feared him somehow going into that darkness and not returning. She knew where he was going, what he intended, she noted the shimmering of the mated blades as well. They were entirely too vulnerable in their unarmed and all but undressed state. The instant his palm flared to life the elf turned her eyes away. She had experienced the fullness of his magics once before and it was no mean thing. A moment later, emerald gaze was fly open, something was wrong. It was not the glorious light of the divine that bathed her but the heavy sludge of the darkness that seemed to invade the sanctity of her home, even through closed doors. Her own mana stirred in response, ripples of golden light flowing off of her silvery flesh and into the heaviness of the dark. Where was the light in her home? The fire..the lanterns they had all gone out. The prayer that was slipping from her lips was an almost breathless murmur, the elf a beacon of light herself in the darkness of the common room. Rho she could make out by the smoldering arc of Mastaes wielded in his dark, paw like hand as he retreated to her position, and Shoales leapt to life, a frigid, shimmering of eerie blue along silver edge as it fell into her hand. “ It’s Helich..” the elf muttered softly, speaking the obvious, perhaps, at this point. “But he makes no effort to enter..” The elf seemed puzzled by the lack of activity on the part of her nemisis. Remaining where she was, she spoke, certain somehow that he would hear. “How dare you, dragon..how dare you defile the sacredness that is my home? What do you want here? Our time has not yet come..” Her voice was frigid with anger..in and on its own right. He has distorted her haven.

Rhocielle snarled abruptly at the challenging command. Slowly and seemingly calm the wolf walked to the counter and drank from a bottle. Inhaling sharply from the senation, he continued on towards the door. The Bane was suddenly gripped from its place in passing, it presence serving to distort the black dragon's magical abilities to the best of the weapon's abilities. Time to make Heltri's future come true. Reaching the door, his digitigrade leg rocketed forward to shatter the door open. A rain of splinters was proceeded by a burst of flames that seemed to only blossom further. They did not come from the blade however. They were not magically imbued fires of Mestaes but the result of a fire breath elixer. Heated tendrils of smoke escaped the Lycan's nostrils. In one paw like hand, the fiery blade singed the very air around it, slowly becoming vengeance incarnate with every encounter that the black wolf had with the dragon. In the other, the Mage's Bane hummed to life on its own as it flew from his hand to impact the sand with deadly force. The Lycan allowed Heltri to escape to easily last time. The result ploom of fine grains was not for distraction, not at all this time. With skipping a beat to the otherwise calm droning of his heart, the Warder whipped his fiery blade at the cloud of sand. Hellish flames that were bonded to his own growing furocity, sand melted mid-air into mishapened glassy shards of airborne shrapnel.

Heltri :: That was it. His reason. Her words. It was not our time. It was not our time. It echoed. Our time. It was not - door burst open, splinters deflected against scales - the light brought a hand up to shade his eyes, a quiet whimper. A rare show of pain. He was -that- weak. But his point -- nay the point of Fate had been proven to HIM, as it were. His ego grew faster than his strength. He was a god. A god amongst mortals, a Demon. Sent from Hell by Solaris himself - nay. Mahri. Back to the physical aspect, splinters deflect against weak saurian scales whilst blocked view does not detect the nest stage of this multi-faceted attack. The Bane took his left arm. A brief battle with shadow ensued - while retreat began, avoided a much more powerful shrapnel of parting glass still hot from the transformation...Invisibility without magic...Lithrydel, nay, it only did so much. Rhocielle could track him, but not before he turned into a familiar form. Dragon. At beach's edge - he embraced the water. The male was no blue, but any dragon knew how to propel themselves underwater. Even dead ones.

Arien’s eyes had not left the unfolding scene for one moment, her gaze tracking the wolf as he made way to the door. A worried frown tinged the brow of the elf as the sounds of rapid and treacherous assault unfolded. She did not doubt her wolf, especially not while the dragon was proven yet not at full strength, but one never knew what might happen. Her palm fell to cradle the children in her womb, an unconscious and almost fearful act of protection. What would she do if it was not her husband who came through the door after the dust..or sand, settled? The thought was beyond any hypothesis that she could plan for, and her fingers deepened their hold around Shoales’ hilt. Within moments, almost too soon it seemed, quietness reigned out of the porch, and as the elf lifted her eyes to the door and shifted her stance in preparation for possible battle, she could not help the soft whisper that slipped from her lips. “Come back to me Rho..” She could feel somehow, the white hot fury of the place to which he had lost himself. Such rage, could breed a loss of control..and deadly mistakes if he were not careful. And a family depended on his ability to step back from the brink.

Rhocielle roared as almost a feral beast at the dragon's departure, immediately striking the sand beneath him to blindly launch a wave of molten glass into the receding wave. Steam rising from the shards instantly disappeared as the eternal chill of the ocean dissipated the heat. Glowering at the darkness, Mestaes itself steamed the air around the blade before slowly calming along with its wielder. Both the elf and her own blade seemed to call out to their partners. Shimmering pools of melted silver cooled and returned to a more stolid pewter as the wolf looked on at the crashing waves, almost taunting him of the dragon's second escape. Retreating from the edge of the beach, he’d collect the lodged Bane from the sand and began to his slow return to both the calm of the villa, and her arms.