RP:I Just Came To Say 'I Hate You'
Part of the Rise of Larket Arc
Summary: Macon comes to check on his new prisoner. A little threat was made toward Josleen.
Macon’s voice reaches the holding cells long before the Death Knight does. For a few minutes he is nothing but the sound of a muffled, joyful, and light conversation being held in the adjacent office between the acting sheriff and the former councilman. Little bits and pieces are audible enough for those in the cell area to hear. ‘Black eye’, ‘Murderer’, and the most sarcastic ‘I trust you’ve been keepin’ him well.’ anyone has ever heard. Eventually the door to the holding area opens, a handshake can be witnessed and the acting sheriff waves his hands at the guards inside, ushering them out to give the paladin and traitor some privacy. It is clear that Macon has been puppeting The Guard through this man since the discovery of Ladavere’s corpse. The door shuts behind the exiting men and they are alone. The Death Knight is dressed similarly to how he was when he addressed the crowd at Lucy’s Crossing, sans armor, longsword at his hip. For a moment he just stands there in front of Kelovath’s cell, grinning and enjoying the sight.
Kelovath sat on his bed with his back against the cold wall of the cell. His eyes were closed as he concentrated on the muffled conversation going on in the room nearby. The voices were familiar and he knew Macon was here. To gloat, more than likely, but the paladin wouldn’t give the Death Knight the satisfaction of this small victory. When the door was opened and the guards were removed, Kelovath opened his eyes and watched the traitor enter and saw the smug grin slide wide. It made him sick to his stomach, knowing that Macon was walking freely about Larket. Still, the man remained calm and kept his head against the stone wall behind him. He wouldn’t speak first. Nor did he show any real emotion at all. His hands rested comfortably on his knees, which were close to his chest, feet upon the bed, waiting for the first word.
Macon lets the edges of his grin curl into a sneer at the paladin’s silence. As always he’s brought the Rage Stone with him, the furious artifact clearly affecting the patience he has for this verbal game of chicken he initiated. He breaks the silence, “Murder. Pestilence. Treason…” the smile quickly returns as he moves through the list of abominable things he’s wrought on Larket that Kelovath now sits in a cell for. “The High Priest… I didn’ know you had it in you. When they order you t’be executed, do you think they’ll let me do the honor? Ah… Of course they will. They’ll do whatever I say by now…” He leans closer to the bars, his chin nearly touching two of them as he peers between, “They all see you now as I have for so long… Weak. Pointless. I was worried for a short while when you came back.” He turns his back and steps away from the bars again, “But now I’m sure you realize, wherever you were, you should have stayed there. Larket has no need for you.”
Kelovath hated the first three words spoken. They stung deep, but the man did his best to refrain from showing it. An index finger twitched slightly and his heart began pounding hard. It could be felt in his head, his body growing hot. Anger. Frustration building. Tension increasing. Was it from the Rage Stone or simply an emotion that the paladin was finding difficult to control? His breathing was forced back into control when he spoke. “I’m innocent.” Simple statement. And a true one at that. The paladin’s gaze narrowed, which was about the only sign he was growing irritated. Again, the man spoke, voice a bit more shaky than before. “Why are you doing this?” He asked while shaking his head in disbelief. Almost sounding annoyed. For some reason, asking the question, the most important question, relaxed Kelovath. The anticipation of learning the truth was more than enough to regain patience and shift his anger elsewhere.
Macon shakes his head, still idly looking around at the other cells, “No. That’s not the righ’ word. Innocen’. You can’t believe tha’.” The Death Knight moves to an open cell door and swings it closed and open again a few times before Kelovath’s question finally draws his gaze back onto the paladin. “For Larket.” He believes this with every fiber of his being and that conviction shines through in his voice. The former councilman looks shocked that the prisoner didn’t know the answer. “She was so strong. Feared.” It is unclear whether he is referring to The Kingdom or The Queen herself. “And you left it to rot.” That change of pronouns should clarify things as he continues, “I remained. The weakness will be cut out and Larket will rise. -You- will be the final blight to be culled and they will thank me for it.” He lets out a sigh through a bright smile and approaches the captive’s cell once again.
Kelovath couldn’t believe what was coming out of Macon’s mouth. His feet found the floor and the man leaned forward, canting his head to the side. “And what of Andurla? She was standing in your way or something? Those who have died from the disease you’ve spread? Why did they have to die? You’ve murdered so many to what...? Make Larket stronger? You’ve spread fear throughout the city when it needs hope. Whether they are scared of me, the fermin, or whatever. It isn’t what the people need, Macon.” Persuasion probably wasn’t the best option, but the paladin was attempting to kind of sense of a real person within the Death Knight. While also restraining his own anger for the traitor. “You are leading Larket down a dark path. Killing me won’t solve whatever your issue is.”
Macon waves his hand dismissively at the list being thrown back at him and then snaps at Kelovath, “I am the hope!” He shakes his head and stifles a laugh, “You don't see it? These people are dying because of you. Imagine how many more are still alive if you had stayed away. The High Priest, the disease. They're all dying because you can't protect them…” He pauses and smirks, “It doesn’ matter what's killing them; the rats, the plague, fury… They're dying because you. Are. Here. They don't need you. You're killing them just by being.” That attempt at reasoning with The Death Knight seems to have only driven him further down the rabbit hole. Something clicks with the ‘traitor’ and Grey eyes narrow, “How many more have to die before you realize that… They said a witch came to visit you…”
Kelovath felt the anger surging through him as the Death Knight spoke. The anger was clear on his face now, but on the inside, he was starting to believe in what Macon was saying. It was all true. People were dying because he came back to Larket. As soon as he decided to get involved, the fermin attacked, Andurla was killed, and the disease spread throughout the sickbay. Clearly it was Macon who set most of that in motion, but leaving Larket before…So many people would still be alive. Maybe even Andurla. It wasn’t until the traitor brought up a ‘witch’ that the anger hit home and in an instant, Kelovath sprung from the bed and furiously grasped the bars of the cell. “She’s no witch!” He yelled at the ex-councilman, doing his best from reaching outside of the cell. “What do you want, Macon?! Why am I the target in all this?!” The questions were purposely directed to bring the attention back to him and away from Josleen.
Macon maintains that smirk while shrugging up his shoulders in a fake gesture of apology, “Sure. They told me witch is all…” The Death Knight wrinkles his nose at the question barked at him. He knows the answer and he hates it. They love him (or at least they did), he doesn't know why or how to replicate it for himself. He had stayed with them all when The Queen and The King and The Paladin left, but they were all so ready to welcome him back at the drop of a hat. They respected the former sheriff, but they far from adored him like that. He simplifies the sentiment to something that doesn't sound as painful, “You're in my way. That's all. We'll just have to see if the witch is too.”
Kelovath snapped back quickly. “Stay away from her!” The paladin wanted to reach out and grab the Death Knight. Hurt him. Cause as much physical pain that would equal the emotional pain he’d been feeling since the death of Andurla. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do. Damn bars. Although, the man did have magic still. The thought was there, but control needed to be had. “Please…Leave her out of this…” The emotions flooded in as anger, but it didn’t take long for the man to start begging. “She’s done nothing wrong. I’m the issue here. Not her.” The man was weak, now using the bars of the cell to hold himself up, eyes desperately pleading at Macon. “Please…” He whispered softly, knuckles going white as his hands tightly gripped the cold steel.
Macon starts to head towards the door. He's managed to tilt the Paladin and it at least appears that he's mostly done it all on his own with only a bit of coaxing from the Angry Relic he is carrying. “Don' worry. It will all be over soon. They'll confirm wha’ they already know, that they're better off without you, and we can move on from all of this. Really it's only if something goes awry that I would even need t’look twice at her. Just sit tight and you have my word,” Lot of good that is, “That I'll leave her be.” With that The Death Knight knocks hard on the door to the sheriff’s office and waits to be let out.
Kelovath was shaking his head while Macon spoke. He didn’t believe him. And there was no reason to believe him. It was because of the Death Knight that all of these horrible things had been happening. As much as the paladin wanted to scream, kick, and punch in anger, his training held strong and the man did not throw a fit like a child. By the Gods, he wanted to though. There was a click and the door to let Macon out was opened. It was that damn sheriff, who offered a wide grin directly at the paladin. The fool was probably listening in on the entire conversation, enjoying every word shared. And he would surely use whatever he could as leverage against Kelovath. When Macon finally left, the sheriff follow, which left the prisoner behind, and for some time, finally alone. He slid down, back against the balls of the cell and brought his legs to his chest. His mind raced. First it was Josleen. Her safety was now the most important thing. Macon would target her with or without reason. Next, the anger came back and images of how to kill the Death Knight and the sheriff appeared. Slow deaths for both. Those thoughts were shaken away and next came the sadness. So many people have been killed. Because of him. Because of the paladin. ‘I shouldn’t have come back…’ It repeated in his head over and over again. Finally, when he could no longer hold the tear back, it was decided that to save everyone, to save Larket, he needed to leave. But death was not the option he’d allow. Getting out of the jail cell. That first, then… ”I need to leave Larket…” The words trickled out of his mouth, as did the tears from his eyes. Maybe Macon really has won?