RP:Introduction to Anarchy
Part of the The Lesser of Two Evils Arc
Hanging Corpse Tavern
This once-timber tavern has been rebuilt in sturdily vitrified blackstone and imbued with powerful protective magics that prevent occult fire and several other potentially harmful spells being cast within its walls. No effort has been spared to make what might otherwise be a bleak interior comfortable. The bar is made of polished stone with an oaken inlay, the space behind filled with a bustle of attractive barmaids, sundry barrels and a dazzling array of coloured bottles that glint in the light cast by a large wrought-iron candelabrum suspended from the ceiling overhead. Here, the one-eyed Steadman stands, ready to take orders for food or drink. Beyond the bar, stout tables are firmly bolted to the floor, though the high-backed chairs are freestanding. The hearth is a true feature, seeming to be cast from black lava into the shape of a colossal, laughing goblin's head, its maw gaping wide and deep, usually containing a merrily crackling fire. A delicious scent of roasting meats drifts in from the kitchens and a winding staircase leads to rooms upstairs. To the south are set cellar doors, usually kept locked unless a special event is taking place. The walls are hung with thick, richly woven tapestries depicting persons and events in the history of Vailkrin and the Vampiric race. There's also a notice-board near the entrance, where one may leave messages. Unobtrusive but ever-present are the security staff, staunch fighters ever ready to toss troublemakers out.
Redhale shouted, ":: From the direction of Nightshade Avenue there comes a loud series of unholy roars, accompanied by a rhythmic clattering of steel on steel."
Kasyr lazily draws his cigarette from between his lips, before snuffing it out against the tabletop. "Well, so much for waiting around." Allowing a wry smile to paint itself upon his features, the Revenant simply stuffs his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat- and starts towards the door, quite intent upon heading towards the source of the calamity, "Come on, Cherie. The situation has finally come to a head, I think... And I've a fond desire to see the face of chaos, as it were."
Dami was in close pursuit, the vampire swirling her coat up and off the back of the chair like a matador. Hanging from her shoulders, with sleeves empty, she'd flick the smokeless stump to the ground and follow quickly. "Hope you're still not holding that grudge~" A coy smiled coupled with her taunt, Steadmen reaching for a kitchen knife. She'd be long gone before he found one, which was probably a good thing for -everyone-.
Leafy Arches
The Avenue here is lined with trees that seem to thrive under the pale light of the moon. A sign above the door of the building to the west, as well as the steady stream of visitors carrying laden boxes and baskets, suggests that it is probably a place of business. Though well-dressed people stroll to and fro here, this place is imbued with the sense that its elegance could be a mere facade, an attractive front for the two-legged predators who prowl the darker side of existence in this land.
Redhale stood tall in the middle of Nightshade avenue, his otherwise familiar form decorated with a pair of somewhat excessive silver spaulders as some limited form of battle armor. Before him a small force of undead soldiers, each covered in a far more substantial armor of Duergar make, who beat asynchronously on their shields as their painted faces stared angrily at a group of vampires further down the way, who were yet to take their battle stance despite seeming anything but unready for a fight.
Kasyr has a much less sizeable force to support him, the sole troops that the Kensai has to offer to this potential skirmish in the making being himself and the terramancer at his heels. Still, that doesn't prevent the trenchcoated Revenant from jogging over towards Redhale, the grave inquisition of "What's the situation, Monsieur?" It's at this point he ceases to move, one hand drifting to a pocket to procure a pair of cigarettes, whilst the other assumes a position just beneath his lips- with his thumb pressed to his middle finger.
Dami reluctantly followed, her mood soured. She didn't want to be here, this was just a memento of bad memories. However, the Revenant felt her presence was needed, and for that, she'd follow- albeit a little reluctant at first. The small force on both ends was studied, and the surrounding buildings given special note; for once, she was going to try and keep things intact.
Redhale 's voice was snarled and bitter, and though he obviously spoke to Kasyr neither his face nor his oppressive attention was turned away from the group of vampires down the way, "They've been turning the dead, taking advantage of the weak minded and forcing them into servitude." If he were to be more honest he might mention that he didn't actually know who had been spreading their influence into the minds of the undead citizens, but the lot that were confronted here certainly weren't acting innocent.
Kasyrs' gaze snaps up towards the amassed vampires, a look of sinister amusement crossing his features, "Really. Not particularily sporting to have other people do your dirty work, en fait." With a softly muttered cantrip, and the distinct 'click' provided by a snap of his fingers- the Revenant brings a minute flame into existance, the likes of which is used to light the pair of cigarettes he had retrieved. Settling the one between his lips, the others extended towards Dami, "Houses..so. Dami- I need you to try et discern just how many people are wearing heavy armour or quoi ce soit in the vicinity. Would hardly do if things went wrong et an attempt at a retreat turned into an ambush." Beyond that, the Revenant simply draws his hands over to the top of his head and casually calls out, "Hey. Hey you guys. What es it you even want, enfin? Do you have some sort of...er, pamphlet? Or feeling talkative? "
Dami almost didn't want to accept his little pre-battle token. Almost. Pinching the stick between ring and middle finger, she'd cup her hand around her mouth while she took a stoic drag. The ethereal chains of the surrounding earth were firmly grasped, the Terramancer taking a quick moment to get in 'touch' with the ground they stood on. If there was a massive gathering of an unseen foe, she just might have been able to pick up the reverberating vibrations and shift of pressure. The same went for anything heavy- like perhaps an armored unit? A silent message was sharply relayed to her sire, a simple 'nothing-so-far' conclusion. A sidelong glance was aimed at Redhale, just who was this now?
Muraski approached the scene slowly, a subtle draw felt in his skull as if he should be going in this direction. Not with much else to do or better yet, not really wanting to be near much else he strolled in the direction of the tug. When finally he arrived upon the scene, the various people around caused him a brief glance before finally he moved towards Kasyr. Redhale and Dami were given a curious look, being the ones who stood out other then the revenant before finally he turned his attention back to the one who pulled upon his mind. "Erm, I'm here?" He spoke rather clueless, single optic to look around as if he sought a reason for the awkward summoning.
Redhale waved Kasyr's question aside, apparently he wasn't in the mood for politics, as important as such information might have been, "What they want isn't important, what they have done is, and what will become of them shall be." Indeed, the gathered vampires didn't seem eager to answer questions either, several of them having drawn weapons while the sturdier ones moved casually towards the front, trying their best to look menacing in the face of a crowd of screaming corpses. Some of the more eager undead inched forwards, feet scuffing along the ground as they did their best to wait in restraint for their master's order. Redhale himself was on the verge of battle, and his focus became obvious when his voice rumbled from the earth beneath those gathered rather than from the amorphous form itself, "Revenant, if you know any reason these heretics should be spared now is the time to say so."
Kasyr cants his head off to one side, a decidely vicious grin carving straight across his features. Following a deep breath, the vampire leans the entirety of his body, the cigarette removed from his lips so he can gesture towards those individuals at the front, "Depends on them- vraiment. If any of them would be so willing as to bend the knee to moi, et get out of my way- they can keep their goddamn lives. They want to resist, however-" The revenants grin becomes a wild chesire like grin as a number of caliginous cracks form in the air around the area, twenty four different areas seeming to exude a darkness even more profound than that of the evening sky, "Well, their lives are goddamn forfeit, Tu know?" It's upon the word 'forfeit' that those cracks abruptly condense, a distinct sort of order taking hold over those patchs of palpable darkness and force each one into the guise of a Katana- each one simply looming in the air menacingly.
Kasyr said to Muraski, "Good. Take notes. This es politics."
Kasyr said to Muraski, "Vailkrin politics are rather ..honest, after all."
Dami left the cigarette to hang from her lips, a hand cupping at the left of her elbow. With those damned swords of his cracking into existence, the subtle hissing burn along her spine was once again brought to life. She was still unaware of what really governed it's appearance, however its reaction to Kasyr and Gospel was as clear as day. "I always hated politics."
Muraski blinked as the scene turned all doom and gloom. The words of skewer, slaughter, and maiming somehow to be on the front of LeskoVac's mind as they speak of killing off the vampires. Eye turned towards the one who asked the question, then returned towards Kasyr as the revenant went to answer. A grin spread across his face as he listened to the answer, such a good policy to hold but unlike the revenant, Muraski would ened up slaughtered if he tried such a tactic. The darkness that was crafted in the air only added to his doom and gloom like thoughts, as he once more listened to the words and smiled. The cheerful merchant seemed it fitting to offer a wave at the heretics, one final good bye. As Kasyr spoke about politics, Muraski finally offered something to the table with an action rather then rambling thoughts. "I see.. So, I assume that we're about to see 'diplomacy' at it's finest? In a rather, do what I say or end up skewered on my sword, kind of way?" He shrugged, unphased by the way it all seemed to go down. "Well then, can I ask, why are they heretics? What exactly is the reason they must die?"
Redhale cracked a grin himself, his mask splitting open along its bottom half to open a jagged jaw, full of needle-like teeth which ran back in rows seemingly all the way down into whatever gullet there was behind the facade. From that rank maw a powerful screech was issued, accompanied by a commanding gesture which incited the undead into a new frenzy, the group rattling forwards haphazardly with the front line swinging swords and axes well before they could reach the opposing vampires. Just when the chaotic charge was about to descend upon the vampires more recognizable faces stepped out of the crowd: The undead that had been turned were pushed to the front as if to act as some kind of hostage or human shield, some of them even painted similarly to Redhale's own forces. On a more noble battlefield this might have had an effect but psychological warfare didn't usually account for the inspiration which drove undead foes; the flailing blades cut through flesh that was once friendly as easily as they would have any other, and the only positive outcome for the vampire's efforts was that front line would have to pause the shortest of moments to wrench their heavy weapons squealing from their brother's bones.
Kasyr replaces the cigarette back its place upon his lips, before he casually plants his arms into his pockets and begins to stride forward- posture still partially hunched forward. Which is about the point it's revealed that the Revenants mercy is as short-lived as those sorry individuals that find themselves prey to the sudden downwards barrage of blades- those hovering obsidian blades from before shredding down through the air to wreak bloody havoc admidst the ranks of the vampires. Possessed of a surnatural keen and a fair bit of momentum, there's very little that will prevent those arnaments from plowing through what rests within their path, so that they end up half buried in the streets. "Mon dieu- give someone the option of a painless surrender, et they offer fodder, instead. Chattle..even."
Kasyr said to Muraski, "Ask questions later, monsieur."
Dami had become, at this point, more or less Kasyr's shadow. Always behind, or beside, she simply followed and did as asked, with little, to no resistance. Even if the endeavor at hand always had a way of dealing her the fecal-caked end of the stick. Reaching up into the coat that hung over her shoulders, she'd finally slip her arms into the sleeves, and tighten her gloves. For the past month she'd been practicing for a situation like this, the chance to prove her prowess on the field, and demonstrate just how superior her close quartered combat skills were. Although, given the most recent turn of events, Dami was beginning to think of a different alternative. A simpler path of alternatives; the path of least resistance. The serpentine coil of a tattoo that stretched along her spine boiled with anticipation, and hissing excitement.
Muraski found his words lost in the loud noises as forces advanced, Kasyr's swords moved, and his own voice seemed drowned out by noise. He gave a simple response as Kas told him to speak later and silenced his question for now. Rather then advance, Muraski held back and watched troops and Revenant work their powers. In fact, he kinda just stood next to Dami, sort of like a shadow to Kas.
Redhale 's men had slowed their advance after pulling their blades free, and as they marched over their murdered brothers those at the back of the squad drew out long pikes to impale those fallen but still twitching, a task which seemed almost serene after the violent wave that had preceded them. Redhale himself was nowhere to be seen, having vanished into the shadows after giving the order to advance, although it was likely he was the cause for the surprised screams at the back of the group of vampires, which were promptly cut short by the sounds of crackling flames and crunching bones.
Kasyr || The multitude of blades that the Revenant had called forth begin to ripple and contort once Redhales forces reach them, the odious arnaments simply losing any cohesion- effectively dissipating into a miasma which swiftly becomes indecipherable from the darkness already provided by the evening. It's at this point that Kasyrs' pace begins to quicken, his collected march turning into first a jog- and then an outright sprint. The Kensai is ,after all, using the full extent of his vampiric celerity to get within arms reach of the vampiric anarchist closest to his general location- Kasyrs' abrupt dash used as a means of provoking a startled swing of the unforunate womans sword in his direction. A swing that never connects, given the haste in which the Kensai ducks beneath the weapon, and swings a currently empty hand upwards. Currently being a keyword- as a nightmarish explosion of crimson and obsidian energy rushes out from the Revenants sleeves- the tattoo's upon Kasyrs arms effectively unraveling from their fleshy moorings and quickly assuming the guise of a blackened broadsword. Six feet in length, lacking an edge, and carrying an abnormal (read: supernatural) amount of weight and density- the wicked weapon is sent arching up -through- the womans body, the cataclysmic collision crushing through armour and flesh with a sickening ease. By the time gravitys pull begins to assert itself upon the uneven halves of the womans body, the Revenant is already in the process of hefting the blade up onto his shoulder, one hand flicking forward in a beckoning motion to any who would dare take up the challenge. And maybe they would, for as long as they remained unaware of the fact that Gospel carried no real weight to its soulbound wielder, they might believe themselves capable of wearing out the Kensai.
Dami was knocked to her hands and knees, the obsidian explosion of that inky serpentine coil down her spine more than eager to taste the action. Jagged tendrils ripped against the back of her leather coat, and arched into a half circle around her, the ball of menacing energy taking the guise of the halberd she'd seen last night. To her feet she went, and into a sprint she broke, adopting her own path into the fray. A daring male tried his hand, sending the reckless swing of a war hammer straight for Dami's side. The speed at which she moved simply left his attack moot, a violent shoulder to the chest sending him backwards before his swing could connect. With the strength and density of the shoulder she delivered, the useless male was went bowling back into his comrades, issuing a perfect strike.
Muraski was to stand back at first, behind the kensai as he awaited some kind of orders for what to do. When Kas surged forward, Muraski figured he had the instructions he had been awaiting. Unlike the revenant, who took a rather direct approach in the fighting, Muraski took a rather unique approach to battle. The gadget vambrace upon his wrist was exposed, the rogue to roll back his sleeves just for this. Gloved hands moved over the various contraptions upon it until finally he found the one he looked for. The arm was pointed towards the group of vampires, a small blast heard as suddenly a collapsible grappling hook shot towards the set of foes. It was like fishing in a stocked pond, one freshly filled with all sorts of marine life just watching to be hooked, except these ones had pointy teeth. As Dami sent a group of them backwards, one was unfortunate enough to catch their cheek on the sharp edges of the hook to which Muraski recoiled the wire back to him. As the man approached at unfortunate speeds to his utter demise, Muraski's sabre was being drawn. One quick slice in front of Muraski found the man without a body, the gloved hand that was attached to the vambraced wrist, now to hold quite the catch. The merchant removed the hook from cheek and kicked it back into the crowd. Now it was his turn to join the others in the fray.
Redhale tore through the surprised vampires as easily as his men had charged their own kin. From that ever yawning maw of his jets of intense flame bellowed, and those who were quick enough were slowly herded back towards the threshing violence at the head of the fray. Those who were a little sluggish tended to fry fairly quickly, the forceful lick of those flames quickly turning flesh black and blowing the charred body parts into the wind, acrid ash filling the air while smoldering bones clunked and crumbled upon the pavement. One of the opposition though himself clever enough to avoid the inferno and crept up upon Redhale from below the line of fire, but as soon as he took a swing at the towering black form a twisted rope of cloth wound its way about his arm and pulled him headfirst into the writhing black cloak.
Kasyrs' taunt is super effective. Which is to say that he's managed to singlehandedly get the attention of good dozen vampires- who surge upon his position with all manners of bloodthirsty battle cry and curse. That the Kensai starts to grin upon realizing his predicament likely should have served as an indication to his assailants that -something- was amiss. And really, those who were perceptive might feel the subtle agitation of energy within Kasyrs' vicinity- Taking note, perhaps, of the manner in which the Revenant subtly tipped the broadsword up so it no longer touched his flesh and the dull red glow which began to spread through it. Certainly, the sporadic sparks which began to crackle into existance around him, and the scent of burnt ozone was difficult to miss. It is unlikely that -anyone- present could miss the cacophony that occurs when the Revenant pre-emptively slams Gospel straight into the ground... As it's then that the peculiar invocation of energys within the Revenants weapon are discharged. The attack is two fold really, the massive blade slamming into the cobblestone as Kasyrs vampiric adversaries are all but upon him- the simply motion serving as a catalyst to a rather abrupt and violent shockwave of raw kinetic force, the likes of which emanates from the point of impact. Within the time it takes for the palm sized patch of flesh from the Revenants left arm to ionize, the air is filled with a cacophony of crunches- the sudden inversion of momentum that had been forced upon his assailts causing all sorts of unpleasent contortions to be forced upon them. Which is about the point the secondary portion of Kasyrs arm is put into motion- the portion of his arm that had been in the process of dissipating into energy spreading with a sudden voracity. A secondary invocation of energy, empowering the Revenant with a celerity befitting the element he wielded. No longer were his motions done with the practised ease of a master swordsman, instead giving way to a furious series of literal-lightning quick lunges, and slashes. A frenzy of motion that ends when Kasyr drives his blade through the last of that particular portion of the pack- burying the odious weapon up to its hilt through its target and the street. Which, is about the point that an observant spectator might notice the fact that the dull red glow possessed by the weapon likely had something to do with some form of unnatural heat- given the rapid manner in which the impaled individual catches flame.
Dami had managed to draw a much larger crowd, Kasyr's display of savagery not only striking fear in the heart of men and women, but causing them to pick a new 'target' amidst the chaos. Perhaps it was her petite frame that gave them a new wind of bravery, or the foe she took one-by-one. Either way, Dami was almost instantly surrounded, years of martial practice with close quartered combat keeping her alive. A sword was dodged, the mans wrist grabbed, only to be the anchor of a dislodging limb, her foot to his chest the hammer to set it all off. Flat palms to the chest, bodies flipped over her shoulders, even a few low sweeping kicks that kept her head simply attached to her shoulders- effortlessly, she kept them at bay. It wasn't until that kinetic ripple of force staggered not only her, but the anarchist surrounding- the halberd held up offensively, for the first time. Lunging forward, she stuck a woman in her chest much like Muraski's grappling hood had, and drug her in. From her, the poor soul was lifted effortlessly into the air, and slammed into the cobblestone behind, a permanent dent expanded upon. As if the ground was her template, and her halberd the brush, she'd grind the corpse into the stone, painting a half circle that was finished with the release of broken body into gathering crowd. With a grin, she'd swing the staff back, catching four men across the ribs, both the strength of Terramancer, and the weightless, yet solid density of the halberd blasting them skyward. Now that- was an effective way to clear a crowd.
Redhale struck a similarly terrifying figure, wading forwards with no less than three pairs of legs, all hanging limply and one impossibly twisted, sticking out from his robes at odd angles as whatever was hidden deep within the blackness devoured them, slowly pulling the bodies further inwards with each step. Knowing now that close combat would end badly for them the vampires came at him from a distance, but every arrow or thrown dagger simply sunk into the swirling black mass of his robes and was gone, perhaps not even connecting with the form within. Just as he slowly drove the gang backwards the dark being's men slowly marched forwards, clearing the edges of the scrap while the others cut their own way through the throng. The vampires were quick and strong warriors, but the undead knew no fear, and even as they lost weapons, limbs and heads they marched onwards. The heavy whumping of their swinging blades ended up slicing only through air as often as they did flesh, but when connection was made the dwarven steel would sink right through to the bone and fell those injured in one swipe. Any left bleeding were soon skewered through the forehead by those bringing up the rear. Fallen bodies, friend and foe alike, were dragged off by a pair of mangled minotaurs to be loaded into a cart and wheeled away for recycling.
Muraski watched the brutal display between Dami and Kasyr as they decimated the group with ease. His own display of cruelty, fish hooking a man into death, seemingly at a much less intimidating then both of the others. As he thought of a way to even the playing field with the others, sadly, none came to mind and rather then attempting to try, he simply dealt with the three who decided they'd rather fight the man in the back then the two brutes out front, or the one making people disappear underneath his cloak. Muraski removed the crossbow from it's holster, the bolts to quickly fly in rapid succession as the repeater fired two projectiles at the first ones skull, each to take their mark and end the unfortunate man. The second who came at him had a clean swipe for Muraski, LeskoVac's blade to parry this one, only to find the third man's weapon to impale the merchant through the gut. A grunt was had from Muraski as he fired the second grappling hook, the last shot from them for the night, into the one who stabbed his stomach. The man's stomach was quickly punctured by the sharp object, only to have it expand inside of him and then ripped outwards as Muraski gave a sharp tug of him arm. Guts spilled forth and Muraski stepped, the blade to leave his stomach. Never had the rogue been so thankful for being undead then now. As both vampires attempted to recover and attack again, Muraski made quick work, two shots for the one who stood, a knee then placed into the one who spilled his guts. Once knocked onto the ground from the powerful leg of LeskoVac, the merchant's foot pinned him to the ground and fired a fifth round execution style into the man's head.
Kasyr taps the ashes of his cigarette out over the eye of the poor fellow that's become an impromptu bonfire- heedless of the burbling close that trickle from the mans lips before he's fully consumed by this voracious flames. With a chuckle, and a slight shake of his head, the Revenant replaces the cigarette to his lips...and then promptly eats a fist to the face. Between his casual air, and the lack of a sword in his hand- Kasyr had effectively provided an irresistable target to this particular vampiric assailant. No doubt an elder, given that the man was currently pulling himself -out- of a nearby shadow...and the force held within that punch. On the bright side, the Revenants at least aware of the mans presence now- enough so that he's able to weave back from the secondary strike that ensues. Abruptly darting inwards, Kasyr quickly plants two quick jabs into vampires gut- before following it up with a brisk sweep of his foot beneath the mans legs. Before the elder can even finish falling, The Revenants body is already curling in towards his form, his right fist slamming down to catch his falling foes body squarely in the torse and effectively send him hurtling down towards the ground with enough force that it would cause a dragon to shudder. Which..is why the Kensai can't help but be perturbed, as when the peculiar vampire makes contact with the ground- Kasyr is not greeted by a cascade of sonorific crunches, but instead a distinct 'plunking' noise. Having effectively turned his own shadow into a gateway, the elder is spared a violent demise...in favour of being shot out another shadow and sent hurtling off into a different section of the city. "....Sonnuva." That done, the Revenant spits his broken cigarette off to the side, hefts his broadsword out of the ground, and starts wandering over to the fray again.
Redhale eventually met up with his men in the middle of the scuff, having cut a path right through the center, bulking up his form with several collected vampires on the way. One leg sticking out from where his shoulder might have been gave a brief kick before a slow crunch dragged it the rest of the way under cover. The majority of the vampires had given up on attacking the black beast as their weapons appeared to be having no effect, and instead had either run into the slaughterfests occurring at other points in the fray or vanished off into the night with the hope of making it back to whatever master they had alive to report the incident. Redhale's clenching aura had felt them fleeing, but the being had decided to let them go; besides the fact that vampires made for horrible meals their escape also increased the odds of him finding out who was behind the turnings. Another piercing scream was issued from the cave of curved teeth that was his mouth which ushered those not currently engaged in combat to form two lines down the wake he had left, each of which promptly re-enacted the violent advancement that the first wave had performed, squeezing the few men left towards the shop fronts on the sides of the street, all of which had been securely shut even before the fight broke out, against which it seemed certain the gang of vampires would slowly be turned into mincemeat, ground up with the bodies of their own allies pressing down upon them. The dark man himself saw little need to engage in more violence, and instead strode down the corridor of bodies towards his wagon full of dead to begin preparing the bodies for recycling as they were pulled away from the battle scene.
Dami was hardly aware of the elder's brief spotlight, her attention fully focused on the exploit to her new 'toy'. With a brow arched, and a half-assed grin tugging at the corner of her lips, she'd stand back. Spinning the halberd with a blur, the elf quickly surveyed those around- just like Kasyr's batch, they too were falling back, not sure what to attack this point. Wielding the staff like a bat, she simply swung into the crowd with an all star's grand slam of attacks, bodies rocketing into the air both left and right. She cleaved into the retreating army of anarchists like a weed whacker.
Muraski found himself with few foes between him and the others, having stayed behind them the whole way made it rather easy for him to avoid the majority of the fight. The others themselves being walking steam rollers that crushed everything in their paths, leaving Muraski a few stragglers here and there to pick off with relative ease. As the first crossbow emptied it's last three shots to the most recent of those who charged him, he simply pulled out the second and final one. The weapon was held at the ready, along with his sabre, as he awaited anything else that might try to get past the bull dozing duo.
Kasyrs' reponse to this latest development is simple enough, the Kensai exercising his will over Gospel and coaxing it into the slender form of a Katana. With casual ease, the Revenant simply flicks the blade out in front of himself in a quick stylized flourish- before jamming it straight into the ground. Whilst at first it might seem to be inconsequential, the whimsy of a swordsman without an opponent- the abrupt materialisation of a wave of swords which juts forward towards the cornered vampires tells a different store. A wave that thins out when it reaches the ranks of Redhales troops (though the very nature of the attack no doubt means that a few of those participating in that grim and ceaseless march find themselves damaged by that 'stream' of blades), if only to abruptly expand outwards and encompass the walls behind the vampiric forces. Effectively, it robs those vampires of even having a back to their wall- left with the options of skewering themselves, or diving headlong into the advancing force of undead. That done, Kasyr simply places his hands into his pockets, and starts to walk away, "Dami, Madamoiselle. I believe we're done here for the moment. Beyond perhaps..a simple proclamation."
Dami was laughing. What had been a surrounding mob baring down on her location, was more or less a herd of fleeing cattle, Dami- the loaded barrel of a gun ready to take them to the slaughter. Literally, she had ran at them, chased them, aiding to the cornered victims that Redhale's forces were cleaving down. Slinging the staff over her shoulder, she'd tuck a hand into her pocket, and back track to Kasyr. Melting away in her hands, the halberd evaporated into a dark hiss, burning into her spine once more. Inevitably, she was in his wake, shadowing the murderous Kensai, to where ever he went.
Muraski once more did little more then follow the duo down the street. The two left quite the trail of bodies and carcasses to climb over, limbs and head at times nearly tripped upon to one who didn't watch their step. The rogues body relaxed as he trailed behind, around twenty feet behind them to keep a safe distance so that he didn't become a target of ricocheted attacks. Pretty much, he did very little except follow the two, a few random hacks to kill a straggler, a thrust to kill one who laid upon the ground still alive, just playing the general clean up crew for anything left behind that the two managed to miss.
Kasyr spends a few moments fumbling in his pockets, before he pauses and extends an arm out towards Dami, "I would adore tu forever if I could have that cigarette for a few moments." The remark is surprisingly jovial, giving the macabre symphony of wails that's emanating from behind them. Muraski is also addressed by this point, the revenant casually asking, "So, learn anything, today?"
Dami glanced to the side, eyes shifting questioningly. "I suppose I could do that." The unlit, and slightly bent, cigarette between her lips was plucked and held out. She had sated her levels of stress with a body-cleaving massacre.
Muraski looked between the two and when finally addressed in question the merchant gave but a humble nod. "Of course, in or out of war, be behind your path not in front of it.. It happens to be a much safer route then anything else I've seen as of yet." He spoke without jest, a clear confidence still about him. "Of course, I still don't understand why they were slaughtered, if that's why you asked."
Kasyr takes a moment to flash Dami a grin before he accepts the cigarette and lights it as per his habitual cantrip. Taking in a deep breath, the Revenant then simply proceeds to towards Muraski...an action which draws his attention towards the stream of blood that's been progressively crawling across the cobblestone towards him. In all truth, that morbid pooling of vitae has been spilling out onto the streets for some time- the only difference being that it's now being tugged towards the Kensai due to his peculiar vampiric 'gift'. Offering a sigh to noone in particular, the Revenant simply stuffs his hands into his pockets- and ignores the sensation of the sticky substance climbing up along his body. Muraski, as long as he's paying attention, is going to get his answer, "They were subjugating the undead. I'm gathering it was those who weren't strong enough by virtue of personality or spirit- et the errant. Given ...the dark man's affiliation- that type of exploitation es not an affront that es easily forgiven." A pause, and the Revenant casually adds, "Nor am I particularily fond of slavery myself." Kasyr shrugs at that point, the motion made peculiar by the mass of blood which was currently twisting about his arm- the sanguine substance moving to push its way into his body- serving to both fuel him, and repair the tissue damaged by the invocation of his abilities. "They also stood in my way. Not particularily clever, in that regard."
Muraski listened intently to the words the man spoke and when ended, he nodded briefly, "I see. Slavery isn't something I particularly deal with anyways but I can understand why some might find it a disdainful act while I merely look upon it as fools too pathetic to do their own work." With that said, the merchant looked down where he had been stabbed, the blade to only go in about two inches which was a sign of relief for the man, he loved his armor. He turned to head back towards the way he came in, "Was there anything else needed, Lord Kah-Zeer?" The question spoke as if he expected business to be concluded.
Kasyr quirks an eyebrow at Muraski, his nose wrinkling slightly in response to the drawn out pronounciation shenanigans. Beyond that, he simply shakes his head, "For the moment, I believe this particular skirmish es resolved. If you are feeling particularily productive, you can try et see about collecting more individuals for Coven... But beyond that, I'm not going to do anything rash.." Yet. That said, however, Kasyr simply begins to meander off again- that gorey tide remaining wrapped about his form as the strength inherent in it is progressively leeched away. It's only when the Revenant has effectively 'had his fill' that the 'bloody mess' ceases to cling to his body, gradually oozing back towards the ground.
Muraski nodded at the man briefly as he continued on his way, "I've been sending them your way and I've seen a few you've sent mine. You should see one known as Bluatre soon, along with that of a Makeeda." He paused, a shrug to be had as he non-chalantly added in, "Oh, and another wants to be sired, her name is Jerica. If you're interested."
Kasyr said to Muraski, "Descriptions et the like would be appreciated... As to your..potential individual..." The revenant pauses at this point, before casually offering, "Perhaps send moi something as to why this Jerica Damoiselle should be turned. If she proves...intriguing, I might look into that."
Muraski nodded at the man as he once more moved to leave, his voice kind of trailing behind as he replied and left in the same motion. "I'll send you her instead, she just wants power.. Not to different from most who take this path by choice."