RP:Seeking Spirits and Asking After Dragons
This is a Necromancer's Guild RP.
‘’’Summary’’’: Larewen and Hildegarde meet in the Frostmaw Tavern, where at Daath’s direction, the elf requests permission to study Frostmaw’s spirits. Hildegarde obliges and asks Larewen questions regarding her former master, Gheneroc.
Frostmaw Tavern
Slightly chilled, the tavern is still a far warmer location than the outdoors of Frostmaw. If the cold is too much for a visitor, they can take a seat near the tavern's center, a place dominated by a large firepit dug neatly into the earth. A fire is always burning within, fed by large logs and, strangely, scraps of leftovers flung in by passing patrons--to those in the know, this is to feed Aodhan, the fire wyrmling occupant of the pit and keeper of the flames. Aside from the stone and earth of the firepit, the rest of the flooring is of a dark wood, clearly a sturdy material to routinely bears the weight of many Frost Giants, their armor, and their frequent brawls. A similar wood, lighter in color, makes up the raftered ceiling with its steeped roof. Tightly packed stones create the lower half of the walls, the upper planks of wood built close together to keep out the cold. Booths, tables, armchairs, and stools of various sizes can be found throughout the tavern in no particular arrangement. Frost Giant lasses move skillfully among the crowds to serve ale and warm meals, occasionally stopping to regale a newcomer with the stories behind the many trophies hung upon the walls: sabercat fangs, mounted mammoth heads, aged weapons, dented shields, war banners, and a dragon skull hanging central from the ceiling, horns and jaws wrapped in blue chains. A rather bulky and well toned frost giant stands behind the bar. Upon his blinded left eye, a scar travels down and along his jaw. The large bartender, Drargon, simply watches the patrons, awaiting orders... or trouble, considering the massive war-axe resting beside him.
Hildegarde had a rather well known pattern of patrolling and completing duties around Frostmaw before retiring to the tavern for a meal, as she was presently doing. A Frost Giant sat across from her, tucking into his own meal as she did hers. He chomped and chewed loudly, while she ate politely. There was no polite conversation or talk during this meal, the two warriors were focussed solely upon the food before them. A long and hard day of work often resulted in such quiet mealtimes. The tavern was full of patrons: from the average citizen to city guards retiring for the evening and enjoying a tankard of ale before returning to their homes. When any giant chose to leave the tavern, they would pass the Steward and offer her a respectful nod or salute.
Larewen approached the establishment from without, her dark gaze sweeping along the street. Frostmaw was a place unfamiliar to her, though she seemed to remember distantly having accepted an invitation to visit sometime. Granted, nothing had come of it and Larewen had not expected to ever actually find herself in the unforgiving tundra of Frostmaw. As a gloved hand rose upward to open the tavern's door, Larewen found herself thankful once more for her state of death. The cold never bothered her (anyway). The dark sorceress was clearly an outsider, dressed for the far more temperate region of Sage. Her bustle skirt swayed with her steps and once she crossed the threshold, the door would be allowed to shut behind her. From beneath the ebon veil that obscured half her face, dark eyes stared out taking in those present. The giants, undoubtedly, drew a long, curious stare. It'd been years since she'd seen any kind of giant, and the one she could remember, though he was not a frost giant, had left a sour taste in her mouth. With a dip of her head, she would step out of the way of any whose path she impeded. As she observed their departures, she took note of their actions, of their nods and salutes to the scarred woman. That was enough of a telltale sign for Larewen to decide that Hildegarde just might be someone Larewen could talk to regarding her visit to Frostmaw. It was with that knowledge that the elf made her way toward where the two dined.
Hildegarde had been a little more hungry than she had anticipated for she has already finished her meal and pushed her plate aside, now reclining a little in her seat to suggest that her belly was full and her hunger sated. Mikael continued to eat, hunching over his plate until Larewen appeared beside their table. He glanced from his meal to the woman and then to Hildegarde, as if giving a heads up to the one eyed woman. Yet with the appearance of this undead stranger, the knight was already pulling herself upright in her chair and into a proper pose. “Greetings, m’lady,” she offered politely, “what brings you to Frostmaw? You are clearly a stranger to these parts,” she said with a little nod to Larewen’s style of clothing.
Larewen was amused by Hildegarde's adjustment of seating manner, but did not vocalize her observation. Instead, a glance was cast toward the accompanying giant, briefly, before the one-eyed woman finally snared Larewen's unwavering attention. A smile cracked open her lips at the woman's words, surprisingly pleasant given Larewen's state of living. Without that odious aura, pleasantries had come along far more easily. "You would be correct in that regard," the elf said softly. A dip of her hat and veil would follow in greeting before she'd answer the query posed to her. "My studies have brought me here, and I have need of... aid." The way she spoke the final word was as if it were foreign to her. Larewen had spent too many years being entirely self-sufficient, and yet here she was to request admittance to an area not oft seen by strangers.
Hildegarde did not wish to slouch in the company of a stranger or someone who particularly desired to speak to her, as that would otherwise be rather bad manners on her part. As Larewen confirms that Hilde is correct in assuming she is a stranger to Frostmaw, she offers only a knowing smile as it would be improper to add anything to otherwise reaffirm the fact she had been correct. “Your studies,” she repeats, offering a little smile, “there are very few studies that bring a person to Frostmaw. Many come here to learn the art of war or something a little different… What is it you seek to study? And what aid do you require?”
Larewen was silent for a moment as she mulled over the best word choice to use. She could see, having traveled through the cold, precisely why very few would come here to learn. Certainly a few would lose their extremities to the cold. Finally, her lips parted and she answered with, "I wish to observe the souls and spirits of Frostmaw, yet I've not the faintest clue where they are. Only that I ought to study them, in order to advance in my own studies."
Hildegarde is not the only one to fall silent when Larewen announces her desire to observe the spirits of Frostmaw. The entire tavern has gone eerily quiet, all eyes upon the woman who would wish to study such a thing. Even Mikael has ceased eating in order to only stare at Larewen. “And I trust, then, that someone sent you here for such studies and learning, am I right?” she had heard similar requests before. “As you can gather from the stunned silence of my people, such a request is not taken lightly. The spirits of Frostmaw are close to our hearts and they reside an area that is considered forbidden,” she said softly to Larewen. “Tell me… what would observing them do for your studies?”
Larewen remained unmoving. If she was bothered by the sudden silence, it did not show on her features. Larewen was determined, if nothing else. Hildegarde's query was met with an incline of the elf's chin. "Daath sent me," she answered. "With explicit instructions to show due respect and not to mess with anything." Her brow furrowed slightly then, the vaguest sign of uncertainty. A wrong move meant that she would fail, after all. "Familiarity, behavior, and emotion." she answered the second query. " The dead carry their burdens with them, in many cases. I have no desire to disrupt that which the people of Frostmaw cherish; I have no desire to upset your Queen or Kasyr, and I do believe upsetting one goes for other too." She spoke their names with familiarity, for both had seen Larewen succumb to the vengeful souls that had been locked away in the now empty soul-pendant that she wore around her neck, and they had given her their aid, for which the elf was eternally grateful - quite literally.
Hildegarde rose from her seat as Larewen identified who had sent her to Frostmaw for her studies. “I speak in Satoshi’s stead and my power is equal to her power,” she explained softly. Her manner was not arrogant nor power-hungry, merely a gentle explanation, “and I worry more about the upset and insult that might befall my people should anyone disrupt our already restless spirits,” she said, hands splaying in an open gesture. “No one ventures to the west without being accompanied. Not only for the sake of my people being assured that a stranger is being watched, but to ensure no harm comes to a guest in my land,” her words were accompanied with the most sincerest of smiles. “So, I will accompany you myself. Ice Devils are treacherous beasts.”
Larewen had not only chosen her words correctly, but it seemed she'd also chosen precisely the right person to talk to. Both gave the elf cause for relief, but it would not show on her features. Instead, her head dipped toward the woman, whom with her words identified herself. Larewen had heard of Hildegarde, though she'd never met the silver before. "You must be Hildegarde, the Steward, then," Larewen said, studying her for a moment afterward. She did not appear to Larewen quite as Gheneroc had described her: soft. A gloved hand was extended outward with intent of a proper introduction. "I am Larewen Dragana, of both the Mage's and Necromancer's guilds."
Hildegarde had never really been overly comfortable with the prospect of being heard of or having some sort of renown. Yes, it could be employed on the battlefield but it wasn’t something she liked. She preferred a modest and humble life of service. “Indeed, I am Hildegarde,” she confirmed, though she really had no need to as Larewen had already named her so. As the gloved hand reached out, her own partially gloved hand did the same; clasping Larewen’s hand firmly yet not so tightly as to become uncomfortable. “Larewen,” she repeated the name and offered a little smile, “you… that name, I know. I feel it has some connection to the Stone One, but… hm,” her sole eye had narrowed just a bit out of uncertainty. Was it Xersom who had mentioned the name? Or Gheneroc himself? She could not be sure.
Larewen had ties with both dragons that she mentioned. When her hand was released, it fell back to her side. The now dead chain still darkened the flesh of her throat, crossing her chest to hide beneath her corset. Her features were darkened briefly by the faintest of grimaces at being linked once more with Gheneroc, but it faded quickly as a hatred simmered in the depths of her partially obscured eyes. "I was bound to Gheneroc, for a small bit of time," she confirmed, the Stone One's name spoken with deep disdain.
Hildegarde had a deep interest in this manner of which Gheneroc bound people to his will. It was something he had tried to discuss with Hildegarde at length, something he tried to convince her to be of great good to the realm. “How urgent are you studies, Lady Larewen?” the knight inquired. She had another matter she now wished to discuss.
Larewen arched a brow upward at the query. She had not expected to depart immediately regardless. It was late in the evening, and though Larewen did not sleep and was nocturnal herself, she did not expect so of those she would encounter in Frostmaw. "My studies are always urgent, but that is a matter of opinion and taste," she answered. Her lips quirked upward as she joked lightly, "The dead will always be there tomorrow."
Hildegarde offered a broad smile at Larewen’s joke, “That they will,” she replied, before gesturing to a seat at her table. “I will admit, I am very curious about the Stone One. You seem rather… disdainful of him,” she said gently. “And while you are a guest in Frostmaw, I would like to know a little more of him,” she had her own reasons to be rather suspicious of him.
Larewen accepted the invitation, and would seat herself with careful adjustment of her bustle. It took the elf a moment to find a proper and comfortable management of the garb, but when she did her attention returned immediately to Hildegarde. "I have every reason to be disdainful of him," the elf said, a bit more coolly than she intended. She loathed the lizard, that much was far too obvious. Her head tilted to the side and a gloved hand rose to tuck a flyaway strand of hair back into place. "What do you wish to know of him?"
Hildegarde returned to her seat and sighed gently as she sat down, offering Larewen her full and undivided attention. “Everything and anything you wish to tell me,” she said with a little smile. “He talks much about his… network of associates and those who serve under him, that they are all one mind. Yet they seem devoid of life. They are toys to be played with at his whim.” The Silver paused for a moment before adding quite honestly, “He has attempted to court me. And it has been a most awkward affair,” Hildegarde was, after all, not the prettiest of ladies in the land nor the most desirable.
Larewen listened quietly as Hildegarde spoke, her hands falling to fold neatly in her lap. "That is precisely what they are. The lesser ones, anyway," she confirmed. As Hildegarde continued, Larewen's expression remained the same, though her eyes took on a fury that rivaled her hatred of the Stone Dragon. "He means to fly you, then?" she asked, her voice coming off a bit more tartly than she had intended. Her bond had only recently been severed, and the cursed band that tied her to him had only just been removed. "I was his consort," she explained, bitterly. Her ire was in no way directed at Hildegarde, and she expressed so with, "I imagine you are wise enough not to fall for that fool of a dragon?"
Hildegarde was a woman of modesty, so the tarty words certainly do bring a redness to her cheeks that might be otherwise unsightly in a ruler or leader. “Whatever he intends for me, he shall not have,” she said coldly. “I know you were his consort, I said as much to him when he made his intentions clear to me, yet he claimed relations were distant and done,” she admitted. “Though, I must confess, I do not rightly understand his interest me and it bothers me. I am not an attractive woman, that much I know and understand. So I am suspicious as to why he pursues me and whatever insight those who were once close to him might have is useful.”
Larewen curled the corners of her lips upward. "Granted, after some time, I was not the most faithful to him either; I was just as much a toy to him as the mindless ones are. All of those that bear his Chain are." As she spoke, she raised a gloved finger to draw attention to the tattoo. "This is what it became at its full length for me, and though I am no longer his to control, the scar remains. Gheneroc wants power, and he will do whatever it takes to get there; he cares not for the feelings of others. As it should be, for those who are power hungry, but his methods are full of empty promises. He wants only pawns. When we met, he spoke ill of you."
Hildegarde ’s eye moves to the tattoo only when it is pointed to, for looking at it in a more outright fashion beforehand might have been considered a little rude. “Yes, that mark, I have seen before. Indeed, I have grown quite wary of it and I commend you for breaking free of it,” she said, her praise and respect genuine. Yet as she hears that Gheneroc has spoken ill of her, she is unsurprised. In fact, she seems amused as evidenced by the smile upon her face and the wry smirk upon Mikael’s face. “Is that so? Won’t you tell me what this Stone One would say about a little Silver like me?”
Larewen took the praise warmly, as evidence by a surprisingly gentle smile that caressed her lips. "The fury that overtook him when I demanded my release was worth the pain," she said, taking sick amusement in the Stone One's anger. She had hurt him, and she knew it. She afforded a curious glance to the frost giant as he smirked before she answered the silver, "He finds the dragons of this day and age to be weak; he believes they strive too hard to mingle with mortals, and that to serve one, as you do, and to protect them, as you do, is a disgrace to the saurian race."
Hildegarde had already heard such words from Gheneroc to her face. Mikael laughs aloud at them, though. “Mikael is amused,” she smiled, “because we often think that words are wind and have no meaning in comparison to actions. While Gheneroc forces people under his rule, I earn respect and the command over my men through my deeds and not whatever power I have.” The Silver offered Larewen a gentle smile, “Yet he has called me these things on more than one occasion, but continued to pursue. So, as you might imagine, I am confused by that.” It was evident the knight did not feel quite so enamoured by him.
Larewen was amused by Hildegarde, but not in a negative way. She shifted upon her chair and leaned foward slightly, her voice lowering so that what she said would hopefully be privy to their ears alone. "He is a male, and you are a female. There's much to gain, especially if he were to fly you. Gheneroc wants to control people. I wouldn't put it past him to consider the idea of bringing more dragons into the world," she said.
Hildegarde ’s cheeks once again flushed red a little bit. “He is aware that I am not… or have not…” she shrugged, deciding it wasn’t necessary to share that information really. She had no interest in ‘flying’ with anyone. “Yes, I accused him of seeking me only as a brood mare but he seemed insulted. Yet he has persisted in this: giving me food, trying to talk often to me and becoming insulted and hurt when I seem to spurn him or treat him as only a friend.”
Larewen didn't need Hildegarde to finish to know what the dragon was getting at. She'd reach out and pat the Steward comfortingly, but that would have been far too uncharacteristic and forward of her. Yet, the desire itself being there was strange enough. "Tell me, did he adopt a human form to speak with you?" she said this with great interest.
Hildegarde dipped her head momentarily at the term ‘truest of shapes’, “My apologies, m’lady, but it is simply a term some of my kindred use to refer to our… natural form. The dragon shape,” she explained politely. “Yes, Gheneroc assured me each and every body he assumed was done so with that person’s consent, but I was never really sure. It was an unusual thing, to be quite honest with you.” That said, she offers a little shrug, “I will always be wary of him and his offers. There is little he can gain from me.”
Larewen had assumed that was what she meant, but wanted to be sure. "Ah, well he does speak the truth in that regard, as far as I am aware. He believes a willing following is of more... use, but the issue with willing followers is that they enjoy rewards - something Gheneroc can be rather stingy with." Silence followed, in which Larewen found herself thinking of the Stone Dragon in a less than favorable way. "I would like to see him fall, though not for anyone's benefit but my own."
Hildegarde offered Larewen a gentle smile, “He has wronged you and that is reason enough to want to see someone fall,” she said with understanding. “But Gheneroc is powerful, though arrogant. And his banner grows with each person he adds to his group.” The Silver had no desire to engage Gheneroc in any sort of conflict as of yet or any time soon, as Frostmaw had recently suffered a war and she would not put her people through it again if she could help it. “I will not dance to Gheneroc’s tune, but I will be polite to him and I will be courteous. Though I shall not bend the knee.”
Larewen wrinkled her nose faintly behind her veil, but lifted her chin in acknowledgment of Hildegarde's words. "That he may be, but there will come a day when he does fall," the elf spoke quietly. She made no claim that it would be by her hand, for Larewen was well aware of her own limits. "Do what you must, to protect you and your people."
Hildegarde nodded, “That is all I ever do: what I can for my people,” the woman would gladly lay her life down if it meant her people would be safe and well. For if she were gone, others would take her place, this she knew. The wizard Svilfon or even the Queen herself would avenge her. “We all fall eventually,” she said, Mikael nodding in a solemn manner, “and that is a truth we accept in Frostmaw.” After a long pause, she asked with evident curiosity, “Do you think this… Chain of Domination can work upon a dragon? For he has not attempted such with me and I wonder if it is because of its inability to work or something else.” Some opponents did prefer achieving victory through free will rather than force, after all.
Larewen responded with a lift of her shoulder. "I have seen it upon elf and feline, on dwarf and human. Dragons though, I have not. That could be for sheer lack of them, in recent years though," she answered. Her head snapped to the side rather grotesquely as she suddenly freed bubbles of air from between its vertebrae. "But, Gheneroc likes his victims willing. I think it gives him a greater sense of self import."
Hildegarde is not put off by the grotesque head snapping, she had seen as much around the giants and other warriors of Frostmaw. Some had felt it relieved the tension of muscles, others thought of it as a useful tool of intimidation. “I got that impression from him,” she said with a smile. “I am glad we met, m’lady, this has been an interesting discussion. I believe Gheneroc has given up on his… attempt… at courting me. If it can be called courting,” she muttered the latter, “but I enjoy speaking to him. He talks an awful lot about his plans and intentions.”
Larewen did it for the relief of pressure in those dead bones. Her smile was met with Larewen's own and her head dipped. "As am I," she agreed after a moment and then, she chuckled. "I hope for your sake that he has given that up." Her gaze finally swept away to look over those that had not left as Hildegarde continued, further drawing on Larewen's mirth. "That he does. He's full of hot air, but then, dragons are proud creatures, for the most part - are they not?"
Hildegarde nodded in agreement, “Oh, dragons can be proud creatures,” she admitted with a broad smile. “But I hope you do not find me to be too prideful and arrogant,” she said in a rather genuine tone of voice. After a little pause, the knight offered Larewen a polite smile, “You have travelled a long way to reach your destination, m’lady, and I would not have you travel back just to travel here again. Please, stay at the tavern, you will find bed and board upstairs. I will pay for your accommodation and any amenities you require, if this suits you.” The Silver paused for a long moment before rising from her seat, “I have duties to attend to, as I’m sure you can imagine. But is there anything you require of me before I leave?”
Larewen responded with a shake of her head to any further requirements and stood to her feet as well. "Travel is of little consequence, when one does not tire," the elf replied. "I will stay for the evening though, and on my own coin. There is no need for you to pay for my stay. The room will provide me with time to study, while I await the completion of your duties."
Hildegarde smiled at Larewen, “If you are certain, m’lady,” she replied. “But I shall be off now, if you require anything to make your journey easier tomorrow, please speak to Drargon. He can supply you with a cloak and well-gripped boots,” she suggested, letting Larewen know such resources were available to her if she required them. With a respectful dip of her body, the knight would bid farewell and make for the door with Mikael in tow.
Larewen wished Hildegarde well as she and Mikael made to take their leave, her own feet guiding her to purchase a room, to which the elf would retire and pour over tomes regarding soulmagic.