RP:In The Hanging Garden
This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.
Summary: Kanna is presented with correspondence from an unknown member of the Necromancer's Guild requesting that she initiate someone into the Guild. A chance meeting with Blaire and Quintessa in her poisons garden leads to Blaire's impromptu gifting of the Minor Book of the Dead and being granted access to the Black Library to further her knowledge.
Garden of the Dead
Like a transition from a nightmare to a daydream, the haunting and twisted trees open to reveal a moonlit garden enclosed with a wrought-iron fence. Over the twin gates is a plaque bearing the symbol of the Necromancers’ Guild, and below it is a smaller plaque warning trespassers that the Guild is not liable for injuries sustained within the garden. Colorful plants of every shape imaginable line the fence, their thorned stems wrapping around the wrought-iron as supports. At the center of the garden is a pond just large enough for a giant to comfortably wade in, though actually doing so would be discouraged by the poisonous and venomous residents of the pond. Through the layer of fog covering the pond’s surface, fungus-riddled frogs splash at the water’s edge. If one were to stay long enough, they might be treated to the sight of the groundskeepers of the poisonous garden: unclothed skeletons with flora wrapped around their bones. Inside the ribcage of one is an elaborate spider web with a sparkling golden arachnid in the center. In the hole of another skeleton’s skull, an owl’s eyes peer out as it is chauffeured around the grounds. Translucent butterflies seem to be more interested in the flora covering the skeletons than any of the other plants in this garden. The forest surrounding this area is too thick to traverse, making the westward passage the only exit.
Kanna has been staring at the note in her hand for the better part of the last ten minutes. ‘Initiate someone into the Guild.’ That’s it. That’s the note. No signage to indicate who had written it, though it did bear the official wax seal and Kanna’s name on the envelope. The note had come with a copy of the Minor Book of the Dead, which had already been placed in the pockets of Kanna’s apron. The note could be Quintessa’s handwriting… But it could be Khitti’s handwriting too… it could not be Bradyn’s handwriting, as he would not initiate contact with her unless there was a wand to his head… but then again, the bluntness of it was very much his style… The ghoul audibly hums in varying tones as her internal monologues devolve into sequels, prequels, and a spin-off series that is never quite as well-received as the original. Kanna is so lost in thought, however, that she forgets the task she had been in the middle of when the carrier crow arrived. Now the ghoul with her ashen skin with memories of freckles from when she had been human, and pale silver curls pulled back into a ribbon, stands barefoot in a mud puddle at the edge of her garden that rises halfway to her knees. Surrounding the mud puddle are small clusters of mushrooms that seem to shift slightly in the mud every few seconds. The gates to the Garden of the Dead are open wide in order to allow Kanna to do… whatever it is she was originally doing in this mud puddle.
Blaire was moved through the dark woods like a shadow, there in a blink and gone in the next, as a vampire is known to do. Chasing some prey probable to be either terribly horrifying or horrifyingly terrified. One of the two. Maybe both. The fact that she was doing so while wearing heels was equal parts a testament of excessive practice just for that purpose and the source of at least half her disgruntled cursing under her breath. Came with not needing to breathe. All the more reason to put her breath to use when she didn't need to huff and puff while dashing at breakneck speeds. The other half? Aimed at the damned cat. As it turns out, her quarry was neither terrifying nor horrified. It was... well. A cat. Or it had been. A long time ago. Now it was... well, still a cat. Or rather, something like a handkerchief with a cat face and ears that you might hand from a hook to look like an animal themed ghost at a party. Only it'd been soul-woven. The fabric that made the thing up woven from the spirit of the creature that had been. The image of the being in the tapestry of fate conjured and stitched with to make a... “Pesky l'il bastard! Didn't even give you legs, how are you so damned fast!?” Blaire spat, “Going back on the hoot when I catch you!” Only that was going to be difficult. The l'il gremlin shot through the fence and disappeared into the moonlit garden beyond, leaving Blaire to curse in her native elven tongue even as she vaulted the fence herself like something between a ballerina and an angry jungle monkey. “Right.” Her eyes narrowed behind her large, round glasses as she said the last word with a hint of a hiss and brushed her jaw-length hair behind her ear. Completely unnecessarily. It just felt dramatically appropriate. Her leather pants creaked slightly as she straightened up and took a deep breath, slightly straining the lacing on the half-length corset she wore under the matching leather jacket because tight was the name of the game. “I can play dirty too.” Blaire shuffled her fingers like a girl playing cats cradle with invisible cord for a moment, holding her hands up at eye-level before pulling them apart with a complex mesh of threads that hadn't been there before. With another rotating motion of her fingers and wrists, she'd soon laced the mesh together and braided it into a wire. A wire she tugged on savagely with a; “Here kitty!” reeling the little cloth-spirit in like a fish on a hook.
Quintessa isn’t aware that anyone would be here today, she just happens to be lurking among the poisonous plants when Kanna comes along, a crimson cloak with the hood pulled over her dark hair as she hums quietly to herself, examining a cluster of nightshades. Pale fingers turn over the leaves slightly to gaze at the growing berries underneath, and with a satisfied smile she plucks them from the stem and places them in her apron pocket before moving on to the next, repeating the possess down the row of plants. Quintessa had recently run out of her poison supplies and that just wouldn’t do for the Necromancer Guild’s Acerbitor, oh no, people might start to accuse her of being unprepared. When she hears Kanna’s approach, however, the changeling slinks into the shadows, kneeling down behind the taller stalks to harvest the lower berries while mismatched eyes of blue and hazel peer out between the foliage to spy on whoever was here. When the warlock spots Kanna she almost stands to greet her instantly, but the sound of Blaire’s voice causes her to hesitate, lingering behind the bushes to watch for a moment longer. Was something chasing her through the forest? As countess of these lands Quintessa thought for a moment she should assist her, but at the same time she was far too entertained with sneaking around to come out yet and check; She’d wait and see how Kanna handled this, almost like a test. Yes, that would be a good excuse when she inevitably got caught hiding here in the garden.
As Blaire effortlessly vaults the wrought-iron barbs topping the fence to the garden, and as the changeling warlock harvests the overflow of the nightshade’s fruit, the bardic necrobotanist has resigned herself to accepting that in this exact moment, she would not be able to discern the author of the note nor why she had been given this task. The shuffling of greenery and the sound of a voice draws Kanna’s attention away, and so the note is pocketed behind the book. The necromancer curls her fingers in on her palm as she withdraws her hand from her pocket, silently willing the foliage of the Dark Forest to prepare for battle should the situation call for it. Kanna turns on her heels in the mud, cornflower blue eyes scanning the seemingly undisturbed scenery before her. The warlock had done well to conceal herself and wait for Kanna to deal with the intruder, lest she be mistaken for it. Like a housecat that has just discovered a shiny toy to distract itself with, the small ghoul creeps forward as she listens for the direction that the creaking of leather comes from. As she moves, vines and thorny trees sway in perfect synchrony with her movements, as if waiting for-- “Ah!” Kanna’s surprised outburst comes barely a second after Blaire calls for the spirit cloth, and her reflexes move first, willing the plant life to surge forward and impale the intruder so that their blood may nourish the roots of the garden. The plants stop only inches from Blaire’s form as Kanna comprehends what it was they said. “Oh. You lost your cat? That’s not good, it’s not safe for them here!” The bard exclaims, as if she was not about to attempt to kill what she assumed was a malicious trespasser. Kanna comes into view of the vampire fully from around a bushy hedge, waving a hand to wave away the plant matter as she does so. Dressed in a pink checkered dress with a white apron above, complete with a pink checkered ribbon holding her hair up, the plump zombie seems to have relinquished any thought of harming Blaire now that she believes there’s an animal in danger. “Did you see where they went?”
Blaire didn't particularly seem to mind the attempted murder, if she'd even noticed. But then, she lived in Vailkrin. It was hardly all that unusual. Rather, she was triumphantly looping this new thread she'd made around her arm as she slowly reeled in the runaway cloth creature. “Lost and found.” She grinned at the stranger, showing pointed teeth. “I got the rascal. Kind of hoping your plants gave 'em a good scare though. …. Not that I'm sure the bastard can even be scared. I know for sure poison and thorns can't hurt the blighter, though.” She finally janked the thing out of the foliage with a extra vigorous tug and held it up dangling from a thread like a fish she'd caught. The cat-shaped cloth-ghost wiggling quite a lot like a fish, too. “See? Worst you could do is stain this l'il s***e. And that's harder than you'd think.” For all her complaints about the creations attitude, she still took some level of pride in the actual quality of her craft.
Quintessa reaches up to part the branches of the nightshade plant as she leans forward to get a better view, crimson hood falling as it gets caught on the twigs. “Cat?” the changeling silently muses to herself, “Yes, if she’s lost her cat that’s not good at all- the feral lycans will eat that thing quick…” Quintessa is suddenly distracted by a branch in her eye, the shock of getting poked enough to cause her to make a high-pitched squeak before falling back on her behind, giving her hiding spot behind the nightshades away. Seeing how Kanna was already on edge, Quintessa quickly stands and dusts herself off, waving to the pair of undead from over the poisonous plants. “Oh hi, I didn’t know I had company,” the changeling quickly lies with an overly cheerful expression on her face. “Don’t mind me I was just- oh hey, what’s that thing?” Quintessa meanders around the row of nightshades to get a closer look at Blaire’s cloth-ghost-cat, a hand over her previously poked eye. “Did you make this?”
Kanna lets out a small noise of awe and delight as the mischievous cat cloth is pulled from its hiding place. If Blaire was an assassin and Kanna were mortal, the bardic necrobotanist would be dead at least seven times over in this interaction alone from how easily it was to disarm her with cute things. The squeal is harmonized by the shriek from Quintessa’s injury, and Kanna seems to be more relaxed around the stranger now that a familiar face was near. Turning her attention alongside the warlock back to the cloth cat, she remarks, “What a cutie! The poor thing is wiggling around like it doesn’t like it; is it sentient?” As it wriggles, she takes note that there are no legs visible underneath the flailing cloth. There was no cat beneath? Was it a spectre? “What -is- it?” Kanna’s mud puddle forgotten, the mushrooms occupying said puddle start to emerge. Muddy lumps leave trails of dirt in their wake as they start to scatter to other locations in search of something. One particularly large one starts to move towards the trio, the mushrooms growing from the lump exhaling spores into the night air every time its body lowers down to the ground.
Blaire shrugged when another one showed up. People melting out of the shadows was another staple. And dressed as she was in a sort of... chic version of the classics, Blaire certainly seemed to be one to appreciate the staples. With her femme-fatale leather and spikes outfit the vampiric elf seemed more like a rebellious teenagers idea of a deadly vampire than the real article. And the goth-cute aesthetic of the cat-cloth didn't exactly help dissuade from that impression. “I made it alright.” She confirmed, hoisting the thing the rest of the way up so she could grab it around what might've been the neck. It was a simple thing, like a cloth thrown over a kitten, only without any kitten beneath and holes for eyes. The cloth a slightly translucent hue somewhere between a ghostly white and cream. “It's a pretty simple idea. I make thread using the spirit of the living every day. I thought I might try using the dead. Made this guy.” She eyed the cat, now dangling dutifully as if it wasn't looking for the first opportunity to escape again. “I'd say it worked. Though he's more the image of a cat that might've existed at some point than a spirit of the actual thing.” As she said it, her eyes slipped past the other two to the thumping mushroom headed their way. “Is jumpy over there supposed to be doing a bunny impression our way?”
Quintessa draws silent as Kanna and Blaire speak, the warlock becoming more introspective when the vampire explains how she created the spirit poppet. “Threads from the spirit of the living…” She murmurs, hand moving away from her eye so she could pluck at her bottom lip in thought. “That’s quite an interesting ability- you say you’ve never tried it on the spirits of the dead yet? Interesting…” The gears in Quintessa’s head were clearly spinning, but what exactly she was thinking few could guess.
Kanna looks up at the vampire with big, long-lashed eyes. When compared to the two contemporary Vailkrinese natives, the pastel goth of Kanna stands out like a sore thumb. A sore, pastel pink thumb with a ludicrous amount of lace and ribbons. Despite this, she doesn’t shy away from the macabre topic. “Amazing, you gave the little kitty a second life among the living. What kind of necromancy would you call that?” Remembering the tome in her pockets, she withdraws the black leather-wrapped book, flipping it open. Quintessa would recognize it as not being Kanna’s copy, as the bardic necrobotanist had infamously used ‘the boring pages’ to press flowers, turning the parchment all shades of pink, green, and lilac. She opens her mouth to suggest a category it might fall under when the lumpy mudshroom jumps forward. “Oh!” Kanna moves forward for Blaire to take the book, which is open to a page giving a brief summary of the highly restricted practice of soul binding magic. Once taken, the ghoul kneels to scoop up the ball of mud. Despite the lethal spores sticking to her skin, Kanna brushes the mud off to reveal the smooth skin of a frog, its skin as bright and colorful as the fungal caps growing out of it. “I rescued these guys from a Gualonian swamp cat and now they live here to give the guild easier access.” Kanna says proudly… well, as proudly as one can be when there’s mud covering her legs and hands.
Blaire made a gesture with her hand, holding it level before tilting it one way and then the other. “I've used it on the dead, of course. If I was to weave you a scarf today and you died tomorrow, the scarf wouldn't cease to be. But I've never made the image of a dead thing like this one before.” She explained, “It is and isn't necromancy. It's soul-weaving. Somewhere in-between arcana and soul magic. Or so I'm told by the mages guild. When my grandfather went on about classifications and how it was a unique and noble art, I developed a persistent habit of letting his words drift in one ear and out the other.” She went on, “A skill that sometimes comes in useful even today.” She added with that same toothy smirk as she took the book from Kanna. “Is that a frog or a mushroom?” The answer was probably 'yes'.
Quintessa ‘s eyes flicker down to the book Kanna produces, narrowing slightly as her suspicious nature begins to take hold. “Kanna…” the warlock begins, her voice already in a scolding tone as the tome is handed to Blaire. “What does the word ‘restricted’ mean to you? Did you know there are ancient bylaws that would allow me to slay you right now for sharing these secrets with an outsider?” Quintessa shakes her head slowly, placing one hand upon her temple. “I guess we have no choice; We have to kill her… or she can join us. I guess that works too. It’s up to you, Kanna, you’re responsible for this, after all.” Her gaze returns to Blaire and she has to stifle a snicker. “Arcana, huh? So it’s some form of divination?” Blaire likely had no way to know this but Quintessa literally wrote the book bashing the old schools of magic in favor of her unified theory, and the mention of ‘True Arcana’ triggered something reactionary within the changeling. “Did you know those old men in the tower used to say runology was a form of Arcana?” The haughty laughter she was stifling before was let free now as she held her fingers to her month. “No, I would not trust the words of the old Mage’s Guild. They literally filled libraries full of knowledge they do not understand.”
Kanna’s smile curls up into a devious smirk as she holds the frog up so it can speak in her place. In a voice that is clearly not Kanna making a high-pitched voice, the frog says, “Practicing soul magic, or something that both is and is not soul magic, without being registered with the Necromancers’ Guild is already a punishable offense on both Lithrydel and Rynvale, isn’t it, ribbit? Good thing these pretty girls don’t have to threaten another pretty girl to come hang out and learn more from them, ribbit. If she did, then that book is hers to keep and Kanna’s not in trouble, ribbit.” Kanna lowers the frogshroom to the ground, where it promptly darts into some goblinsbane bushes for safety. In her normal voice, Kanna exclaims, “That frogshroom has a point, you know.”
Blaire hadn't even so much looked at the book, so the supposedly violated bylaw got a raise of a carefully sculpted eyebrow. But again, death threats were nothing new. Ah, the benefits of a dulled and jaded mind. “Like I said, in one ear and out the other.” the vampire shrugged, “But it does have it's uses for divination.” that much, at least, was true. The talking frogshroom got a deep, not very girly snort before it had a book pointed at it. “Are you saying you're a snitch, frog?” Blaire countered, still wearing that sharp grin. “Still. I'll take the book. Sure. Been looking into branching out lately anyway. Think I'm getting about as far as I can get just making things up on my own.”
Quintessa actually has to think for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Interesting point, Frogshroom, I’m not entirely sure if it’s illegal to practice soul magic outside of the guild, but I definitely know showing a stranger books on soul magic can get a guild member- ah, sod it. It’s not like Orange hasn’t been reading restricted material from my library when she thinks I'm not paying attention…” The air of levity that seemed to float around Quintessa shriveled away into a dry seriousness anyway as she focused her attention on Blaire. “Take the book?” Quintessa repeats as if she didn’t understand her correctly. “I can abide by a little peak now and then, fine- I shouldn’t, but I tend to like uplifting my students, but you? You are neither my student nor a member of the Necromancer’s Guild- As Provectus Malus I simply cannot allow you to take a book on soul-bonding, a highly restricted artform. Not even Sceleratus rank necromancers are allowed access to these books without special direction from an advanced art instructor… Having said that, you can read what Kanna has shown you and I won’t tell a soul. I promise, but the book stays with her.”
Kanna smiles and wipes her muddy hands on her apron, but the smile falls again as Quintessa’s demeanor shifts. Pulling the notecard from her pocket, Kanna holds it up in front of her face for only Quintessa to see. “Am I right to assume that you were not the one that gave me this assignment? I figured the writing style was not poetic nor lyrical enough to come from your desk.” She says as she bats her long, silvery eyelashes over the note in an attempt to appear too cute for the serious Provectus Malus.
Blaire held the book up next to her head. “Isn't that what the frog said?” She asked, tilting her head slightly, her hair curtaining onto her shoulder. “This comes with membership?” That'd seemed the thrust of the frogs argument, anyway. Well, that and getting Kanna out of trouble. “Besides. Beats being prosecuted.” she added, letting the book fall to thump against the side of her thigh. “Fair warning though. I am utterly terrible at raising the dead and the like. This felacious feline here is what you get out of me when it comes to depopulating graveyards.”
Quintessa gazes down at the note with a raised brow before mismatched eyes flicker over to land upon the necro-bardess. “Of course that’s not one of my handwriting styles,” Naturally Quintessa had many handwriting styles to make it difficult to track her notes, but for official script her handwriting always took on a fancy flourish. “Did you not hear the news? Nevermind that…” The changeling seemed to relax a bit, her hands moving to rest upon her hips. “Well, first of all the book we give to new members is the Minor Book of the Dead- the ones that don’t contain advanced arts. You’ll have to gain a bit of trust within the guild before we give you more restricted access to things like that… Given your particular case, however, you were able to develop something similar enough to soul-bonding without the help of the guild, that might gain you enough attention for someone to take you on as a personal apprentice. If Larewen the Mad were to discover your gifts, for instance- she was the expert on souls. I’m certain she would have taken a special interest in you.” The changeling seems wistful for a moment before continuing on. “She’s gone now though. We shall see if anyone can fill the void she left so long ago. Perhaps myself? Perhaps it is time to leave my speciation in poison behind in favor of teaching soul-bonding. The opportunity is ripe for the picking, after all, especially with such an interesting subject before us now.”
Kanna relaxes when the warlock does, lowering the parchment back into its designated pocket. “Very good. I suppose I’ll have to take a walk over to the Black Spire and put your name down so you can go to and from the good library freely. Like Quintessa said, you’ll have to become adept at some other necromancy skills that are considered to be beginner or intermediate before you’re allowed into the Restricted area. I do think I’ll need your name for that. Oh! Since you’re now a member, you’re no longer trespassing, and if you need more dead spirits to practice on, you’re welcome to play with anything dead and not yet made undead here. Just don’t touch the scarlet frogshrooms if you’re a vampire, and don’t touch the silvery ones with the blue stripes if you’re a lycan. I’m no Acerbitor, but I can make sure you get in and out of this garden safely.” Kanna bows her head at the vampiress. “Just ask for one Kanna Tsuji.”
Blaire made a somewhat petulant face, always with the apprenticeships and the proving yourself 'worthy' before anyone would teach you anything. It was back to listening to grandfather pontificate about how noble and ancient his art was after all. Just with different faces and names. “Take what I can get, I guess.” she sighed, shutting the book and flipping it over in her hand before holding it out towards the others, “Will that be the full name or is just Blaire good enough? Most seem to be content with B, as a point of fact.” Her free hand flicked at her pointed elven ear. Hinting at the reason few bothered to even try pronouncing her full, actual name even if she gave it. “I'm frankly not sure I recall all my middle names.”
Quintessa didn’t have anything to add to what Kanna said, her assessment of what membership in the guild entailed was accurate enough to satisfy the changeling, though she does part her black-painted lips to say, “You -could- be Acerbitor if you wanted though. You’re good enough.” Quintessa can’t help but smirk to herself to see how petulant Blaire was when it came to these old traditions and she imagined that’s how she must have looked a few years ago when she joined the guild. “The paperwork is mostly a formality. I wrote in ‘of Black Pond’ when I joined cause I wasn’t even a member of House Dragana back then- just put something down so it’s easier to find you when we want to tell you something or give you stuff. Eventually you’ll get your own skeleton servant that follows you around too, it’s great.”
Kanna raises her head, her eyes somewhat wide at the mention of Quintessa’s praise and the suggestion of her taking the role of Poisons Instructor. As she and Blaire exchange quips about the old rule of names and the benefits of the Guild, she looks off to the puddle where she had been trying to herd extremely poisonous and venomous creatures into the Necromancer’s Garden. She was only able to advance this far because of the curse put upon her, right? Would it be ethical to accept that position knowing that there was a fastly draining hourglass on her life held by a demigod? “Can I give you my answer to that once the tourney is done?”
Blaire settled to wait for the other two to finish up their business, at that point, spending her time tugging on and generally bullying the oddly clean cloth-cat while the other two hashed out whatever they were hashing out. She couldn't really march off to the spire on her own carrying someone else's book, could she? Seemed like a safe bet she couldn't, anyway. So... less the a minute in, not even a member yet, and there she was feeling like a kid waiting for the adults to stop making small talk and move the heck on.
Quintessa was content to just stand around and talk all day about necromancy stuff, but once she took note of Blaire’s aura of impatience she patted her apron full of berries and made the suggestion to continue this conversation over at the tower. There Quintessa could show off all the laboratories and work spaces where she made her poisons whilst continuing to try and convince Kanna that she should aim higher. Cursed or not, the changeling saw ghoul’s talent- saw what she could do with poison, things Quintessa could only dream about in her most terrifying nightmares. “Speaking of tourney, Kanna, I have some ideas in mind that will completely murder the competition…” And with that the group left the garden to traverse through the Dark Forest, heading to the Black Spire where they would complete the fabled quest of filing paperwork.