RP:Second Time's the Charm
Summary: Xzavior, after a brief and dangerous flirtation with the good-side and the light, has decided to go Darth Xzavior again. He traveled to Trist’oth to win the gladiatorial tournament once again, cash in, and touch base with his favorite evil patron, Gevurah. She gave him an explosive gift! Which she stole from Desparrow. (And so we are all connected.)
Trist’oth Arena
Gevurah sits in the private, luxurious D’Artes booth. Notoriously antisocial, the high priestess entertains no guests. It’s been a trying month. Her schemes are manifold and demand her attention and energy. The drow indulges today in the rare pleasure of watching fit gladiators slaughter each other for the entertainment of the free folk, and the privilege to be among them in the future. Two drow warriors engage in complex swordplay, which is perhaps Gevurah’s least favorite combat to watch. She yawns into her knuckles and signals to the emcee in the infrared sign language of the drow that he should speed things along. The emcee releases a black, underdark crocodile into the pit. The hungry and enraged reptile makes a beeline for the pair, snapping at their legs for a quick lunch.
Xzavior watched from the sidelines with his arms crossed and eyes coldly calculating every move made by both fighters. He wasn't a fan of this kind of fight either. Too straightforwards and almost everything done is too predictable. He, in his mind, had already slaughtered the pair multiple times now. The emcee's entrance was amusing, however. The fear he could swear he seen light up in the eyes of one of the combatants was something he wasn't going to forget. As it went on his hand had gravitated to the ice made rapier at his hip. He was very tempted to jump in and dispatch them himself. But he would wait his turn. It'll happen soon enough.
Gevurah grows bored as the combatants briefly team up to slay the crocodile together. The crowd likes the battles against beasts, but Gevurah comes to watch slaves fight for their freedom, or the impoverished to fight for a better life, or, as in Xzavior’s case, simply for dominance. She scans the sidelines for a more exciting warrior and spies that naga mercenary who had disappeared a few months ago. What’s he doing back here? She signals to the emcee to jump Xzavior in the line. He’d normally be 5th, but the First Daughter demands he be put in, and so it must be done. As soon as one drow swordsman kills the other, Xzavior is pushed into the ring. The rest of the line-up is more interesting than his current drow foe. Next he’ll fight a duergar terramancer, then a fallen avian who uses an enchanted whip, then a shadow gnome illusionist, and finally the drow pyromancer, the current champion, who has won the last three tournaments.
Xzavior guessed that when he was seen, by spy or the priestess herself, that he would be up. Thus his eager closeness to the field. When he was finally put in he looked up to where she sat and gave a small nod before turning to his opponent. With a smirk he pulled out the rapier and posed in the usual stance and gave a sarcastic, "En guard." But as soon as the drow would approach he would flick his wrist to one side before swinging his arm in a wide horizontal ark. The blade would extend and grow more fluid till it was about five feet out. He had shaped it into a whip. One with threaded sides with the sole purpose of carving through flesh and bone. The rest of his fights would consist of him using similar dirty tricks.Though the illusionist would be fought with more aggression. He had a grudge against people who liked to play mind games. The fallen avian was faced with ice made throwing knives. He didn't see a point in fighting someone with the same weapon as you. The pyromancer was to be made a mockery of. Not only because he was the champion, but the whole fire and ice stipulation. He knew his skills were better. He even placed his trick weapon in the way of the others flames on purpose just to insult him on the fact that he couldn't melt any of his icy creations.
Gevurah grins, smirks, guffaws, and smiles darkly throughout Xzavior’s performance. Finally, the drow can enjoy a little savage entertainment. Ice magic is rather elegant too, which the priestess appreciates. Xzavior wins, is awarded gold and glory for the second time in this arena, and the stands slowly begin to empty. Gevurah whispers behind her into the shadows and a figure bows and melts out of it. Ringside, a well-dressed drow bearing the commoner’s insignia of House D’Artes approaches Xzavior and bows deeply. “First Daughter Gevurah D’Artes congratulates you on your victory. She requests your attendance in the First House’s booth.” If Xzavior climbs the stairs to greet the high priestess, he’ll find her sitting with her back three-quarters turned to the entrance. She can watch him her arrive in her peripheral vision, through the glowing red stare that reads his body heat. Beside her is a dark stone table, and on the other side of that a second ornate chair, angled the same way. She waves at the empty chair for Xzavior to sit. “Didn’t expect to find you here again. Where have you been.”
Xzavior came out of this fight a lot better he had then the first. This time most of the blood on his body was from his enemies. A scratch here and there but other then that he was fine. He would, of course, take the invitation back up to her area overlooking the arena. On the way he made himself look more presentable. Less blood you know? When he made his way in he did move to the chair, though instead of sitting on it he opt to rest his arms on the backrest and his head on arms. Well, the one that wasn't covered in ice. "Hello again. Frankly, I never thought I'd find myself here either. Or at least not willingly. But to where I've been I'll keep to myself. No disrespect but I'd like my private life to be private as long as possible." His usual nonchalant tone had a more bold air to it. Like this wasn't his second bout in the arena and that there wasn't anyone who could beat him. He wasn't an idiot though. He gave respect where it was due.
Gevurah doesn’t push the question. She waves a hand for a servant to materialize from the shadows and pour a glass of wine for herself. “Would you like a glass?” The servant will tend to Xzavior based on his answer. “Wherever you’ve been,” Gevurah says jumping right back into business, “Has it brought you closer to House Dragana? I want that book. What news of it.”
Xzavior gave a shrug and motioned for the servant to hand him a glass, "I've had some things on my hands after I got back. But it seems that things have cleared up so I do believe you'll have your book soon. Just a bit longer, your highness." He wasn't too worried about it any more. He already knew what he was doing when he went to go for it. last time was a bit stupid. Very dumb actually. Though the only thing was he didn't know what protective measures they were taking to keep it safe now. Perhaps with his leave they've calmed.
Gevurah eyes Xzavior in the darkness, then illuminates the small booth by summoning faerie fire around them. She examines him in the light to see if she notices anything out of the ordinary or new. “What causes the delay. Do you need something? A resource, perhaps.”
Xzavior thought about it for a moment before getting a brilliant idea and looking over to her with a slight grin, "A gem that can break magical barriers and enchantments. I can put that to good use, and as I heard, and suspect, the book is going to have both of those protecting it. Though I also need it for combat use. Ice can only do so much." The only thing she would find different is that his right arm, which normally held a vambrace was instead covered from wrist to elbow in ice and he hadn't relinquished the trick sword at his hip. There was still traces of blood on it. Everything about him seemed to be confident to the near point of arrogance. His previously relaxed state all but gone now.
House D'Artes
Gevurah snorts derisively at his request. The faerie light snuffs out. “You ask for a lot.” Seeing as how House D’Artes is also protected by magical enchantments, giving shady characters like Xzavior a key to enchantments in general would be unwise, and Gevurah is not unwise. “I’ll give you something else, which may help. Come.” She leads him out the booth and westbound to House D’Artes. Her entourage follow the pair. En route she asks him if he’s found any strange portals lately, or noticed more activity among the undead. In House D’Artes she leads him to a small den decorated as a common room for the noble family. Two plush couches face a low stone table. She invites him to sit with a gesture then crosses to an magically locked cabinet. From her satchel she pulls a fistful or iron, whispers and enchantment, and it shapeshifts into a key. She opens the cabinet and withdraws a fist-sized translucent and white crystal. This she wraps in her long sleeves then sits across from Xzavior on the second couch.
Xzavior nearly laughed at her comment. Too much? So far he had asked for information and this one gem. He wasn't disappointed though. He could find some other way to acquire his item. He knew some enchanters. Though when she offered him something else in return he couldn't really say no to something so tempting. Following her out he sat upon the couch and watched her discreetly and carefully. He didn't need to know how to get into anything, he was just making sure he wasn't getting lured into anything. When she finally sat in front of him he sat up a bit straighter and leaned forwards a bit to see what it was she was hiding.
Gevurah places the stone carefully on the table so that Xzavior could inspect. “Careful. It’s unstable.” Faerie light brightens around the stone to help Xzavior see the milky glass and white streaks in the stone. “I’ve run some tests on it and believe it is concentrated raw arcane power. If struck forcefully, it should explode and release pure energy so explosively that it could disrupt, at least temporarily, spells and enchantments. It could help you break through a magical barrier, but it’s of a single use only. Though it is possible that some of its pieces may be reusable as small magical explosives, I cannot be certain of that without, well, blowing it up.”
Xzavior looked at the crystal with interest and carefully moves to turn it a bit to get a better look at it, "Well, I can't really use this when it comes to staying quiet. But I am more then certain I can find a use for this." He grinned darkly as he started thinking of all the places this would come in handy. "Thank you again, your highness. But how does one acquire this sort of thing?"
Gevurah grins proudly at the question. “I took it.” No further details necessary. “And you don’t need to stay quiet when you wield power like that. In and out, quickly.” She shrugs. “You’ll figure it out I’m sure…” Her voice trails like she is ready to dismiss him soon. Too many schemes beg her attention.
Xzavior chuckled and picked up the crystal, holding it to his side not so gently. Though not enough to cause anything. "Of course. That's what I do best after all." With a small bow he goes to dismiss himself. He knew when he was done somewhere. "I'll be back later. With good news to report." As he went he tossed up a hand in a farewell wave.
Gevurah calls after Xzavior. “Don’t come back without it.” The good news, that is. “May Vakmatharas guide your blade.”