RP:Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Noxious

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: After defeating Nymh in battle, Gevurah takes the traitor to make a public example out of what happens to those who cross House D'Artes. Lanlan, the House Mage and, in Matron Laezila's absence, acting Patron of House D'l'sel D'issan watches from the stands.

Trist'oth Arena

Gevurah beat the last resistance out of Nymh just as the battle fizzled to a bloody end. Knowing well the power Nymh could wreak through song along, she’s quick to disarm him of his ocarina, any hidden weapons, and his most precious instrument yet: his voice. A spell mutates her good arm into the shape of a raven that tears its way down his throat and rips out his larynx, slapping it against the ashen floor of the razed forest with a grisly squick. A whistle recalls Halbyrn, the First Daughter’s giant spider. Because Gevurah is unable to use both hands thanks to Shatterscourge’s bite, two soldiers bind Nymh’s arms and legs with Halbyrn’s silk, then secure the prisoner on the spider’s back in front of the High Priestess. They ride for the arena, making a quick stop at House D’artes where staff are ordered to announce the public execution, to take place immediately in the arena, of the traitor Nymh who disgraced House D’l’sel D’issan and its Matron Laezila. Nymh is tied to a post at the center of the arena. Gevurah slaps his cheeks. She wants him to be awake for this. On the stands a crowd gathers. The High Priestess is dressed as she was when the Frostmawian invasion caught her by surprise: a simple black dress, boots, little else. Her attire may not befit the occasion, but her regal posture and snarl leave no doubt as to what power she represents. “Wake up,” she growls in Nymh’s ear. “It’s your final act, bard. See your audience.”

Nymh opens his eyes, and looks at the drow all around. His final act, was it? Wouldn't miss it for the world. His voice was gone... he could feel that much still. He didn't so much as wince in pain, however. At the end of his fate, he'd embraced Shatterscourge entirely... and it'd provided him a singular mercy... pure insanity. He only gave her a bloody smile, as though somehow, someway, retribution were all but assured. Pain... he felt pain, but it was so distant. There, and not. He was already feeling the effects of blood loss, from his throat. Shatterscourge glinted at his side. He didn't even try to cut his bindings... even if he could, he was too weak to do anything, unless Gevurah was foolish enough to turn her back to him.

Lanlan 's herald arrived at his room and informed him of the circumstances of Gevurah's fight. Alone again, and ambivalent. There's no choice for him, as standing patron until Laezila is released (gods willing), Lanlan is acting patron of House D’l’sel D’issan. He waits at the arena for Nymh to be brought forth, and says to one of his underlings, "It's shameful. We should've been the ones that brought the traitor to justice. Not that haughty witch." He scoffed in disgust, and covered his mouth with the palm of his hand to hide his honest reaction.

Gevurah circles around behind Nymh and addresses the audience in a booming voice accustomed to filling temples and addressing subjects. She keeps her glare on Nymh before her as she stretches out her arms, presenting the half blood filth to the gathered. “Before you hangs a traitor who dared cross House D’Artes, and its faithful servant House D’l’sel D’issan.” The slight isn’t missed by attentive drow ears who guess among themselves at the political drama behind Gevurah’s choice phrasing. “He allied himself with the elves, our race’s mortal enemies, and in doing so made himself an enemy. No enemy of House D’Artes escapes its reach. You all know this truth, that our enemies’ days are numbered, and today I present to you proof.” She circles back around Nymh to face him. From her satchel of sorcery she pulls dessicated spider corpses, no bigger than her thumbnail. These are strategically placed in Nymh’s mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. She whispers a spell and the spiders come to life and multiply and divide into hundreds of spiders that invade every orifice in Nymh’s head. “Sing your final swan song, Nymh,” she taunts. Slowly the spiders spit acid to dissolve and eat all tissue except the outer flesh and nervous system to ensure Nymh feels pain. They eat through his eye, and throat, skipping the heart and lungs as they work their way down to the stomach and intestines, leaving the absolute essentials in tact so that Nymh survives long enough to feel every last second of it. His skin puckers and rolls over the creepy crawling spiders beneath. As the spiders eat his organs then leave behind sludge waste, over which his lax flesh sags like molasses into a grotesque blob. The entire process takes about thirty minutes. Gevurah makes sure the spectacle is well lit for the sake of her subjects. Watch. Remember. When it’s over, she shivers with pleasure. Relief floods through her. A slow, private grin arrests her lips.

Nymh offers a passing, bloody glance to Lanlan as Gevurah turns to address the crowd. 'Lead them', he lips, voicelessly, as he turns back to staring at Gevurah. The spiders come, and he does not budge. He only stares at her, a smile of insane triumph on his face. D'L' sel D'issan's strength would be forever greater than D'artes. The shards of shatterscourge rose in a dance about him, but offered him no reprieve, threatened not his enemies. The hilt floated away from him, in front of him, as the spiders melted him. His smile, and eyes never wavered, watching Gevurah even as they melted away. When he was at death's door, finally, the dagger plunged, not to be stopped by any force. It speared his heart, and tore it free, draining it dry of his life's blood, before clattering to floor. And, perhaps, it had taken his soul with it. Who could know? In the end, Nymh had died, to the urgings of shatterscourge, overreaching his own limits. Gevurah D'artes saw to his final moments, there, in that arena.

Lanlan finds himself leaning toward the spectacle almost at the very tips of his toes, bewitched. He almost doesn't care about the obvious affront she made toward his 'servant' house, his focus so intense. But he catches up, and after most others of his kin, he abruptly scoffs and waves his hand derisively at her. "Servant house...! Oh she is...just...deplorable," he covers his mouth once more and his eyes squint. The prisoner appears to look directly at him and mouth some choice words. Lanlan doesn't quite react to them openly, and finds some anxiety in being singled out by the traitor. As the spiders degenerate Nymh, separate parts of Lanlan quake, and at interval he glances to Gevurah, noting her reaction. Once the knife animates and arrives at its final destination, Lanlan turns away, walking. Making sure he was the first one to leave.