RP:God of What?
Part of the Vakmatharas' Jar Arc
Summary: Brennia encounters someone who might help her better understand Vakmatharas
The Grand Temple of Vakmatharas
On the site of the former and ruined temple to the Ascendi Vakarash now stands a magnificent structure made entirely of native blackstone. Its vaulted halls are lit dimly with dark votive candles, and acrid smoke rises from gold and iron censers cast into the shape of demons set upon the main hall’s central altar. The altar itself is a paragon to Death – skulls of all races adorn it, set about with candlesticks of intricately carved bone. Bowls of blood and platters of meat are often placed upon it. Fresher blood offerings are not uncommon, and devotees make sacrifice and pray to their dark God at all hours. Faint screams echo from some hidden recess below, presumably the cries of those fortunate enough to have been chosen as sacrifices to the God of Death. Staunch guards are stationed at every possible entryway, all of them priests and necromancers adept in the Dark Arts, all of them more than capable of defending their Temple
Brennia after a few nights studying in the black library about this Vakmatharas deity she stumbled upon this temple and cautiously meanders in. Long black hair left down and blends into large onyx wings which are currently curved around herself to look like a cloak. Stunning liberty eyes look from one aspect to the other in curiosity and not fear, but all the while the curse laid upon Vailkrin plays out the last days of ghosts every night and tonight was no different. A figure in black robes seems to ask the tall avian if she needs help, but when she only looks at him to wonder if he was really here a separate figure walks completely through the bard to converse with the hooded figure. Death everywhere, current and past filling the halls, but Brennia doesn’t even know where to start.
Kristos walks through the dark halls, his eyes flicker with the screams and echoes as if he has lived through those suffering now, as the echos plague his mind and bring back the days of war he tries to close his eyes, the echos deeper etching into his mind as if they were trying to awaken a darker side of him, as he continues to walk and his eyes barely open he stumbles into the Grand Temple Priest and Necromancer, he stops in his tracks, as the two begin to question is action he slowly opens his eyes and pulls back his hood, Hallowed sockets beat with the pure pulse of chaos and hate and he stares them both down, as he pulls both arms forward he began to roll up both sleeves, revealing his Insignia's of war and death, as the priest and necromancer look on then bow their heads and turn away. "These recruits don't know darkness!" as he continues to looks around he notices a few fresh geist and a bird...
Brennia was making her way through the temple while looking upon the carvings and statues upon the walls, but stops when she comes to a random offering pool of blood and dips a sharpened black fingernail in it. Blue eyes captivated by the rich color of it, but possibly something dark lurks just beneath that dewy caramel surface of her’s… Something she thought she ‘locked away’ and she casually wipes the blood off on the sleeve of her turtleneck tight knit sweater. She continues to lazily meander about the temple and take in the art with awe and the subtle smirk on plump lips, but the stare she was getting from the man goes unnoticed until she was nearer to him. Once she was close enough he would be able to smell notes of his favorite scent coming from the avian all the while she was slowly walking around him, looking the man up and down as if studying him… Unsure if he was just a spectre or not, but beyond that there was something slightly familiar about him
Kristos looks at the bird, and then the scent of dwarven sweat fills the room, his hands begin to tremble and form into a fist, as his mind continues to block out the echos and screams, he now faces the challenge of this, his eyes flicker once again as his skin thickens and separates, blood slowly seeping from his scales as they rip through his thick human like skin. His elemental winds begin to shroud behind him as if they are preparing him for battle. He closes his eyes tightly and allows the shadows to play, his mind fades and his skin darkens almost instantaneously as the woman begin to circle him, study him. Admire him. He opens his eyes and tries to catch a glimpse of the woman. "What are you doing?" he replies in a twisted growl.
Brennia continues to subtly smile and just a flicker of black inks over her iris’, but only for a second after she stops in front of him. Her sultry alto timbre finally graces the bring, “so... You aren't one of these ghosts.” At this she allows her large onyx wings to swiftly open then fold close to her curvaceous frame. This reveals her attire, which is quite boring, but curves seemingly poured into a sapphire turtleneck and black soft leather leggings with black gloves to match. She continues to look up and down the man, just once, but it’s as if she could see under his coverings and she is still smirking. “I’m just wondering why people come to a building to worship an invisible being?” Her question was genuine in curiosity as avians do not worship deities.
Kristos smirks at her question, and then just shakes his head while smiling. "Its simple, sweet sweet simple mind. It's because we value a higher power, and avians , well, small minds cannot comprehend the bigger world. So it's not your fault entirely, but the race avian itself is at fault. Small minds, small lives." With that he mutters a Draconian tongue which causes the Priest and Necromancer to smirk for a brief moment. "I my dear am, Kristos, There are some titles in there, but who needs proper formalities in such a dark facility such as this one." He pulls back his hood and Elemental winged cloak to reveal his half white half black ceremonial robes. "What brings a pretty, soft skinned, creature such as yourself into these dark art infested temple?" he says slowly as he looks the woman up and down before him, the scent of Dwarf and blood still play and tickle his nose.
Brennia doesn’t get offended easily. Everyone knows avians are quite intelligent, but they are at a fault with arrogance and usually don’t worship deities because they think of their own race being superior to others. Brennia isn’t your usual avian in the regard of how she views herself, but she doesn’t feel the need to explain to this stranger. “Hello Kristos,” the subtle Veretian (French) accent becomes evident in the pronunciation of the man's name and it usually elicits a compulsion for the gilded tongued bard to say it over and over again. For now she goes without introducing herself and his compliments or comments don't flatter her nor make her blush because she's heard it all before and worse. Her tone continues in her genuine curiosity, “in the years I lived here,” odd for an avian for they typically detest vampires, “I never knew this temple was here. I'm here to learn of Vakmatharas.” Keeping it simple and light for now.
Kristos nods at the woman's response. "Well, this place here was a second home, my chamber, my cave and my underdwelling, I had a few strongholds throughout these lands to spread my own disease." he looks at the woman and then back at the dark artists that over watch. "Please, take my study here to the left down the hall if you wish to study the temple here. It's a well decorated room with .. well Stuff." he nods and points down the hall, as he reaches out toward her his hands grips a parchment tightly and offers it to her as he extends his study. "So tell me, avian, do you share the grudge of your people or do you view it differently?"
Brennia seems to consider his offer of his study, but smirks at him, “I think I'd just like to have you tell me about him, Kristos.” She wouldn't be captured to easily. Blue eyes look down at the parchment and a slight told of her head, “what's that?” She doesn't take it, not yet. “Grudge? Between my kind and vampires? It's more of a disgusting racism on the avians part, but I believe that way of thinking is antiquated and small minded.” Her grin widens exposing perfectly white pearly whites and poking dimples in her cheeks making her appear innocent.
Kristos nods for a moment, he isn't the type of person to suggest the same offer more than twice, but she is just unsure of the gesture, not refusing. "Well We can speak here in the hall or in my chamber or study. That's your call." As he looks around for a moment, the echos begin to irritate his mind to the extent of causing his muscles around his right eye to twitch. He closes his eyes for a moment and then speaks once again. "These Necromancers and Priests don't take kind to spreading the secrets we share here in these gatherings and following processes, but they are just guards where I am a summoner." he allows the brief surge of power course through his body to silence the echoes and his muscles. "So, the racism is a small mind feature avians have, and the whole Superior than thou feeling? Does that course through your mind?" he says that with a grin.
Brennia shrugs and takes the parchment while she heads to the study he mentioned so they can be alone. Unsure of who should be more worried, but she’s handled worse and if it comes to it she has some tricks up her sleeves if this stranger tries anything. His last questions were met with a nod, “avians over two hundred typically think that way and I like to think the ones under two hundred have a more open mind.” Another subtle shrug at the very last question, “I don’t really have an opinion on myself or my race. I am just me.” Liberty eyes aim to catch the man’s gaze with that famous ‘melt-stone-hearts’ smile of her’s. Being a bard and the master of the guild gives added charisma to boot and she could probably sell water to mermaids.
Kristos nods, and leads the way to the Dark study, he passes a growl up on a certain two disciples as he nudges them as he passes to his study. "Allow me to open the door for thee........" unsure of her name he just calls her Shade! "Welcome to the Chamber, Since you have not given me an accurate name I will just name thee, You will go by Shade in these walls." he cracks open the door and Ignites the room with a blaze of flames each darting in different directions to light the 14 candles and 2 lanterns. "After you."
Brennia allows the new name with a, “thank you.” She passes by him and, possibly, because of the narrow space one of those velvety onyx wings accidentally brush over him… Whoops. Whatever his preconceived notions on avians were he might get the hint that this woman is an object of desire and created for seduction, allegedly. Once inside she's not taken her eyes off the man to make sure he's following and even asks, “where do we start on the subject of The God of Death?” Resting her best asset, an ample bottom, on his desk.
Kristos feels the soft velvety to the touch wings graze across him, the scent of the Dwarven rich as if the woman was in masquerade. He closes his eyes as a few different thoughts play through his mind. "Door open or closed?" he stands at the door for a moment and awaits a reply. As he illuminates the room to show the woman his study, as she looks around she notice; Each wall filled from the floor to the ceiling with tomes, each wall nicely decorated with Ironwood and rose wood, the shelf's etched in arcane and archaic ruins, his extensive knowledge of magics surely intensive as he has each book labeled either: Death; War; Magick; Anti-Magick: each category fills a wall to its own. To the left is Alter and ceremonial slab, to the right a Desk and small throne surrounded by bones and wax. straight forward in the center of the room is a Cradle, perfect to the touch, dusted, clean, as if it was the ONLY thing in the room that was maintained.
Brennia has a soft spot for children even though she has none and isn’t in any hurry to have one, but she refrains from commenting on it for now. She shrugs at his question proving her fearlessness, I mean you don’t get to be a hundred and thirty without some close calls. She stayed on his desk, wings open and crossing one leg over the other while she fixes the man with a cool gaze, “you remind me of a dragon friend of mine… Been awhile since I’ve seen him, though.” A soft and short longing sigh before she leans upon one hand on Kristos’ desk which only exaggerate those dangerous curves of her’s, “does the god of death have a thing for bards?”
Kristos nods and lets out a small chuckle. "Death has not a favorite flavor, Death enjoys every flavor." as he laughs he pulls his hood back over his head. sleeves fall down his arms as he stands on the opposite side of the room at the altar, looking at his tools and specialty items, he looks up at her features and his desk, changing the flames into elemental orbs so the avian woman wouldn't harm her wings with a flame. "Death sees no face, sacrifice to higher power. I have served for many years, and have lead several hundreds to the dark cellar." he trembles as he thinks back at it all. "So, Shade, Do you think this room here will be able to accommodate all of your inquiries about this place and Death?" he lifts his hands just above the table, as his hands shake for a moment he allows a small figure to be created from all the old caked on blood from the slab. as he reanimates the decay he looks across the room to the avian. "Anything else?"
Brennia looks around, “it might be.” She allows silence to grow between them while she starts to become lost in the tomes within Kristos’ office.