RP:Soul Crushing via Phylacteries and Cakelog Denial

Part of the The Savage Queen Arc

Part of the The White Hunt Arc

Part of the Agitation Arc

Summary: Linn tells Hildegarde that Kahn escaped and Aira ran away. Josleen confesses her role in Quave's torture and Amabella's imprisonment. Linn and Laezila suspect that destroying Orikahn's garland of sculls, aka the lich's phylactery, is not the end to the saga of the lich. It was too easy. Hildegarde and Josleen want to believe that sometimes good triumphs over evil. Linn leaves to search for Aira. Josleen and Laezila worry about Hildegarde's heart, which has acted up twice now. Josleen suggests Hildegarde lay off the cakelog.

East Hall (Frostmaw Fort)

Hildegarde had been taken back to Frostmaw Fort following her chase and encounter with Orikahn. The whole event had been rather dramatic: chasing the feline, watching him stumble in the snow, forcing him into submission and then uncovering the truth behind the Dark Imp and destroying the garland of skulls that bound her to the mortal plane. Orikahn had become hysterical at that point, shrieking, clawing, kicking and punching, he had really torn Hilde to ribbons. But fortunately, good was victorious in the end, as all the stories go. Linn had dragged her back to the fort to recover and so she had. Now she stood in her chambers, wearing a cotton shirt with plain trousers. Her face was covered in the various criss-cross claw marks that Orikahn had left behind for her, which she was examining in a mirror; wincing slightly as she touched them hesitantly.

Josleen arrives in the custody of a prison guard. She is not cuffed or in any way restrained, but hers and the guard’s body language suggests as plainly as shackles would that she is in some way detained. Her face is pink and eyes puffy from recent crying. She wears shame like a cloak, but her own self-inflicted torment melts away as she takes in the sight of Hildegarde’s face. She knows enough about what happened to guess that’s Orikahn’s handiwork. How wrong the bard was to trust him, but then again, the whole city did. The Steward did too. “Oh Hilde,” she whimpers despite the guard’s presence. She crosses to her friend and lifts onto her toes to inspect the cuts for anything that may need stitches. “Have you cleaned them yet?”

Hildegarde looked to the door when the giant and Josleen entered. “Bren,” she said with a courteous nod, noticing the way in which Josleen had been escorted into the room with him and the way in which he would not yet leave. Had Josleen been escorted in the way a guest would, Bren would have gladly left them to it. But he, like Hildegarde, took his duty seriously. He wouldn’t leave unless dismissed or until his duty was complete. “I think they were cleaned while I slept,” she tells Josleen gently, automatically stooping slightly so her smaller friend could inspect the cuts more easily. There was no point in telling Josleen not to bother, after all. She would only worry if refused. “Are you all right?”

Josleen inspects the cuts. Two deep ones have already been sewed. The shamans have done all they can, and the rest must be healed by time. Still, she shakes her head in disapproval of the situation at large. “What’s the point in fighting wars to invite peace, if peace is a fickle guest who never stays?” Her hand rubs at her collarbone anxiously. “I’m...well one thing at a time. Tellme about you first. Orikahn did this, didn’t he? Where is he now? And Linn?” Bren coughs to clear his throat, looking for an opportunity to report on what happened in the cages. A low-ranking guard, he’s eager to show The Steward how responsible and dutiful he is to make an impression.

Hildegarde would have quite happily explained all that happened to Josleen and been more than happy to enjoy her pleasant company if it were not for Bren’s little cough. She knows the guard to be a polite man, he wouldn’t interrupt his superiors unless he absolutely needed to. The Silver smiled kindly at Josleen, “We’ll speak of that in a moment, I promise. Bren here must have something urgent to tell me,” she assures her good friend. “Bren. What’s the matter?” she asks of the giant, concern clearly on her scratched face. The giant hesitated for but a moment before delving into the issue at hand: Amabella had tortured the prisoner and had been apprehended, but was only able to do so due to Josleen’s silent complicity. The knight listened quietly, bobbing her head here and there before looking to Josleen for the truth.

Josleen immediately collapses into a confession. Her face buries into her palms and shoulders slump. “Yes! It is!” she cries. “I hate him so much. He’s done so much harm to me, and Xalious, and— and people I love. So when that creature offered to torment him I… I walked away and let it happen.” She sniffles loudly then sobs. She over-estimated her own badness. She tried to go dark, failed; is still failing now to be cruel. “I wanted revenge, but was too cowardly to take it myself. And then..and then oh gods, I heard the screams, and… then I couldn’t.” She looks up at Hildegarde now, face lined with tears again. “I didn’t know how horrible it would be.” Unlike the dragon whose had centuries to witness and learn that torture can never be justified by personal pain, Josleen is new to all of this. “So then I told the guards what was happening, and it’s as Bren says. They arrested her. Oh gods, the things she did to him!” Things she finds herself unable to repeat. It’s too horrible.

Hildegarde listened to the confession in silence. It was good to let people speak about these things uninterrupted, not just for them but also for the listener to understand the full context of the situation. “Revenge, my lady, always appears to be sweet and tantalizing. Think of it as a sweet pudding. It looks delightful and looks as though it will taste as sweet as it appears, but in truth it is rotten to the core. Revenge… It is no way to live, m’lady. If you exact revenge, then you accept the fact that it is acceptable for someone else to exact revenge on you,” she warned, though her warning was not harsh nor cold. It was delivered in typical Hilde fashion; gentle but firm. “It saddens me to see you took part in this, but consider it a learning experience. Revenge is not the right path. It is never the right path,” she said softly, her hand reaching out to gently wipe away some of those tears.

Josleen lets the last few sobs and tears fall away. Hildegarde’s forgiveness, and lesson, came swiftly and helped replace the back bone in the bard who failed to break bad. She nods as Hildegarde wipes at her tears. “I d-did. It is. I’ve learned my lesson.” She stammers as she speaks, and takes several breaths to calm herself. “He still lives, but…” Her head shakes tensely and her eyes lift to the ceiling to keep the tears at bay. “If I’m being brutally honest, when I think of his condition now, I don’t pity him. He’s committed much worse atrocities and deserves worse. But… I am ashamed of my part in it, and of how it happened. That isn’t who I want to be. The creature” she means Amabella, “took such pleasure in it. I am not like her, Hilde. I am not like her.”

Laezila had heard the news of Hildegarde's plight and chest pains coupled with her withdrawal back to Fort Frostmaw with trepidation and worry; the situation sounded severe and it wasn't the first time that the silver dragon had succumbed to this sort of internal affliction. Thus was the reason that the young drow swiftly breached the threshold to the Steward's room, "Hilde-" and braced several steps of her lithe, youthful form into the chambers before her gait came to an abrupt and startled cessation, "...garde..." The name died upon the interior air as the crystalline blue eyes found the sight of Josleen and the muscle along her jawline flexed in the clench of resentment; certainly, she was happy that the other woman had given up her crusade for the trial of the drow ex-matron, but the time in the other woman's absence had cultivated a sort of blame. It was the type that resented Josleen; this woman that hounded and made her life as a prisoner, then struggling to assimilate as a citizen, so difficult.

Linn came to the fort the moment news reached him that Hildegarde was receiving visitors again after the events a couple nights ago, wearing the full mithril armor, pack, and other gear that he typically did. He barely managed to catch Josleen’s last few words on his way in, the mention of the undead who took so much pleasure in the torture of the necromancer. He had to stop just outside the door to arrest the sudden anxiety that came as a result, knowing exactly what had happened the moment he left the two alone together. Stepping into the room he had to stop again, finding much more than just Josleen and Hildegarde there. He approached to take part in the conversation though and face the results of last night. He offered a small nod to the steward, “Good to see you awake again.” A beat, “I wasn’t able to retrieve Orikahn from the blizzard that night though.” He looked disappointed, even nervous at the implications of such a statement.

Hildegarde shook her head as Josleen repeatedly stated she was not like Amabella. “I know, I know,” she assured the mayoral candidate, “you did not take a sick pleasure or enjoyment from the scene, Josleen. Take strength from this moment. Never forget it, but do not let it haunt you either. It is a learning experience,” she assured her friend before turning her attention to the giant who had brought Josleen to the room. “Thank you, Bren. You have done well. Report back to me later, I have another task for you that we can speak of in private,” she bade the prison guard, who dipped his head and made to leave. With Bren exiting, he held the door open for Laezila to enter. “Laezila,” the knight offered her a smile, “it’s good to see you,” she said kindly. Had the vampire been spoken to by Ayras just yet? And then there was Linn! Sometimes Hilde actually felt loved when all these people came to see her. “That’s all right, Linn. You tried and I must thank you for your assistance. But… we are victorious. The garland was destroyed, Orikahn has made off or died in the snows.”

Josleen pulls her sleeves over her wrists and dries her eyes. She nods her acceptance of Hildegarde’s counsel to forgive herself. “I will try.” Then Laezila and Linn arrive. Though Josleen has forgiven Laezila too, forgiveness does not breed love, and the women stand at opposite sides of the room with nary a smile between them. The bard nods cordially to the drow in acknowledgment that Laezila is no longer an enemy. That’s where the kindness ends. As for Linn, he does receive a quick smile and greeting, then Josleen stands back to let Hildegarde attend to that business. Upon hearing that the garland was destroyed, she asks both of them, “What does that mean, exactly? I didn’t quite understand the power of his necklace.” Kahn would probably not appreciate it being called a necklace, but maybe he shouldn’t be a traitor then, just saying.

Laezila had no idea what the trio were talking about; her attention was mostly upon Hildegarde after the broken stare upon the healer that cordially, though tense, held an understanding between the two women. Regardless, the ex-matron did not engage the other woman in conversation and still internally blamed her for a lot of that initial hatred directed at the young drow and newborn vampire, thus found those crystalline blue eyes slightly narrowed and briefly. It was brief because the tension and the mutual feelings were shattered abruptly by the minotaur-like grace of the platemail-laden warrior, who strode and commanded control of the conversation upon arrival and left the dark elf able to remain quiet. She didn't want to much talk anyway, with that stare now perusing the Silver's form, cut up face, and her attention upon the Steward simultaneous to a soft, quiet walk around the perimeter of the gathered and toward the opposide side of the dragon -effective to put the woman between herself and the other two. But the distance between former opponents in the war was closed hesitantly, and a small, paling ebony hand sought to slip into the slightly larger one of the human-disguised dragon to give the latter a reassuring squeeze.

Linn blinked at the mention of the enjoyment of the torture that he could only imagine the undead put Quave through, attempting to detach himself from the whole scene. This was something he’d rather handle in private only with the involved parties (And probably without the subject…). Laezila, right now, seemed to pass beneath his notice in the shadow of recent events, receiving a flicker of the eyes in recognition but not much more. He offered a respectful nod to Hildegarde’s thanks, but at the mention of victory he pursed his lips, some thought eating at the back of his mind. “I…” He was hung on the gut feeling he had, these kinds of things were even harder to explain than the half-baked connections he drew between Xalious and Frostmaw to him. “I can’t help but feel that the garland wasn’t everything.” Hesitation, he may have to give away his connection to explain himself. “A soul doesn’t let itself be destroyed that easily, especially one like that. It just felt… too easy of an end.” He raised a hand to rub at his forehead, knowing he had little if any basis for this overpowering worry.

Hildegarde had become well accustomed to Laezila’s reaching out and need for reassurance or the need to give gentle and affectionate reassurance, so when the hand reached for hers and sought to squeeze her own she made no protest nor complaint. Yet her attention remains focused upon the conversation at hand. “The garland served as the phylactery for this Savage Queen that Orikahn worshipped. He willingly carried her soul around on that garland of skulls and by destroying it, we destroyed it.” The Silver looked to Linn and shrugged her shoulder, “You heard the scream as well as I did. I think there are loose ends that need to be tied up, such as animals in the west but the Savage Queen is dead. The phylactery was destroyed.”

Josleen eyes Laezila’s and Hildegarde’s hand-holding. An initial flash of friendship jealousy gives way to a second round of rainbow rumors. Could this be why Hildegarde was always quick to give Laezila a second chance? She assumed it was the dragon’s good nature, but perhaps there was a burgeoning romance there? She will need to discuss this with Skylei soon. Compare and contrast notes and let this rumor spread like so many in the past. When Linn insists things don’t end this easily, the bard smiles at him compassionately. “I know what you mean. We read stories and hear epic poems in taverns, and the final blow is always so climactic and costly. What strange creatures are we to invent such fantastic tales against which to compare our own lives and be inevitably disappointed. I suppose we can take heart in the triumph of good over evil in this instance, for that doesn’t always pan out like in the stories either.”

Laezila watched, and listened, to the group and she was able to simultaneous sidle closer to Hildegarde not to where the two where touching aside from the grasp of hands, but to a proximity that allowed the drow to feel secure in the protection of and from the Steward; it wasn't as if Laezila was any helpless fighter, herself, as Skylei could certainly attest, but absent weapon and in such a place that she was still adjusting to, the security was a more hopeful feeling than that of a blade at her hip. In clarification, neither Linn nor Josleen made the drow feel as if her life were in immediate danger, either, the latter having subsided to a begrudging permission of continued existence and the former far too occupied in other matters; she felt, rather, that perpetual paranoia and suspicion that came with Gevurah's bounty, the conversion to a vampire, and still that scar of Emrith's actions and words. It was enough to keep her on edge, at least. "No." She abruptly said, before quickly corrected, "Excuse me," quieter, and her harsh, but melodic drow accent that was like an elf's except tinged with a certain savagery, came out with less volume, "There are things I learned growing up. If something is too good to be true, a victory too easy to gain, it is not luck or oversight. It is a trap. I don't know what you're all talking about, but if it's too good to be true," The young vampire shook her head, "Then it is not true." Another reassuring squeeze of Hildegarde's hand.

Linn just sighed and shrugged at the reassurance, growing a weak smile at Josleen’s explanation which by all accounts was true. He gave a small nod accepting that he really had nothing to go on, maybe it really was the end of everything. Laezila’s rebuttal seemed to polarize him again though, if in a bit of a different direction. “Whether or not it is what it appeared to be I can’t tell. I’ll certainly keep watch, but at the same time if we can’t ever move on from the fight then victory is moot. I just want to be… thorough.” Finally satisfied with how he put on his own stance on the matter he left the subject, he had more news to break anyway. “I also wound up telling Aira about Orikahn. She left out west immediately and I haven’t seen her since. I’ll be heading out myself after this to go find her. She no doubt has some more information on all of what’s happened and I can’t let that be lost.” He stopped to allow a response before turning to Josleen again with a slight look of confusion, “You don’t happen to have one of my mana crystals do you?” He had marked all of them to know where they were and retrieve them if he needed, but he never recalled giving Josleen one, despite feeling one of the characteristic marks around her person.

Hildegarde released a heavy sigh as she listened to those around her. True enough, something felt unfinished and undone, but the Steward wanted it to be over already. She was weary with Frostmaw being constantly at war, when would the era of peace come? When the Queen magically returned and resumed her role and the mountains bend at the howl of the wind, no doubt. The woman shook her head. “I am not saying that we ought not to be vigilant, do not mistake my words for that,” she said firmly, “but the evidence would suggest that the threat of the Savage Queen has been resolved; the phylactery was destroyed and so was she. That is not to say that perhaps her assistants and loyalists will not stir up trouble. But she? She must be dead.” As Linn informs her about Aira, the knight nodded again. “I see. Orikahn was training her and instructing her, I believe. He said she was a skilled hunter, so if anyone can find him, I assume it would be the person he was passing his own skills onto. I am tempted to place a bounty upon him,” she said after a brief pause, “but I am not certain.” It’s what Satoshi would have done. Does that mean it was the right thing to do?

Josleen throws her hands up in exasperation at this council of the grim as Laezila speaks her piece. Like Hildegarde, she just wants this to be over. “Well, I hope you are both wrong. You may well be right, but without proof, I am inclined to believe that at some point the clouds will part, the sun must shine again, and the people of Frostmaw and Xalious will be able to breathe at last.” Then Linn insists on being thorough and she interjects perhaps a touch more shrill than necessary, “Be thorough if you must!” It certainly is the best way to be, but Josleen has suffered too much, and the spellblade and drow’s hopeless message frays her nerves. “I do. That creature threw it away and I retrieved it in the prison.” She pulls the crystal from her purse and hands it over to Linn as she says to Hildegarde, “Perhaps a bounty for capture? No reward for a corpse? Or a lesser reward… I am not sure. Who is Aira?”

Linn sympathetically nodded with Hildegarde and Josleen, this was something that he wanted to be over as well. Worse comes to worse, they’ll just improvise. “Well, just have to keep moving forward from here, wherever we go.” With the crystal pulled from the purse he raised his brows, so that little trick *did* work. Good. “Thanks, these things are too valuable to lose” he said as it was handed back into his possession. His eyes turned upwards in thought of a bounty, “Alive I’d prefer if you do it. Dead isn’t really worth anything too important in the grand scheme of things.” He refocused on Josleen at the query of who Aira was, “Another hunter, she knew Kahn pretty well from what I could tell. The news hit her pretty hard and I’d hate to find her frozen out there as well.”

Hildegarde ’s fiery red eyebrow rose up as Linn spoke about his preference when it came to a bounty. He spoke as if he was a part of Frostmaw’s little council. “I thank you for your opinions,” she said to Josleen and Linn both, being polite and courteous as always. A part of her wished to skin the hide off of Kahn, but that would defeat the entire chat she had with Josleen about how revenge was senseless. “Best you find Aira. I will wait to hear any news from her or you about her hunt. If there is no news, I will sort out a bounty.”

Josleen‘s lip part to express a silent ‘ah’ as Linn explains who Aira is. It seems this impromptu meeting is coming to a close. She looks between Hildegarde and Laezila and wonders if they would like a little privacy, a curiosity not without anger. Why Laezila? Really, Laezila? Really. (Not really, Josleen’s imagination is hyperactive, but here we are, with Josleen being incredulous and thorny at her own fiction.) She looks up at Hildegarde’s cut up but recovering face and says, “I heard your heart acted up again out there. Perhaps I should send a few less cakelog until Eleenin has it all figured out. They say cake is bad for the heart. Do you need anything else from me before I go?”

Laezila was listening, and had fallen quiet at the rebuke of her words not insofar out of any admonishment, but out of the simple concept that she hadn't anything further that might be somehow able to aid the discussion of the topic that they were on; one she knew little if nothing about. Yet, her lithe and small body tensed immediately at the mention of a bounty, and her grip on the slightly larger, calloused hand of the Silver tightened not out of reassurance but a grip that held the message of her memory of the still-active and quite sizeable bounty on her own head. The sudden words of Josleen in regard to the ailing situation of the Steward did not help that anxiety; her frame moved even closer to Hildegarde's in order to turn slightly and more keenly scrutinize that wounded face as the drow wore an expression of concern, "Your heart?" It was a quiet question in revelation that the woman had not, in fact, divulged the reason for these symptoms to the former prisoner.

Linn wasn’t very aware of what he may have just posed himself as with his opinion on the bounty; he was a man of information more than anything and cared little for formalities or politics surrounding a task. If she really wanted to skin the cat he wouldn’t protest, so long as they got what they needed from the traitor beforehand. When Hildegarde’s heart was mentioned as the culprit of her sudden unconsciousness in the blizzard he raised his brows, the ‘again’ in the statement drawing even more concern. He would have to learn about this later. With Hildegarde’s suggestion to go find Aira the enchanter nodded and began to make his way out of the room to set out on that task. “I’ll see what I can find” was the statement that he left the room with, already moving out to get something else done.

Hildegarde nodded as Linn made to leave the room. The Silver could focus her attention back upon Laezila and Josleen, taking note of their worry over her and feeling rather guilty for making them worry about her! “My heart is not my stomach!” she protested, not keen on the idea of being denied her cake. “Lady Nurse, you may examine me if you wish to reassure yourself. It was likely just… the excitement of the fight. Perhaps stress, as Eleenin suggested. Nothing serious.”

Josleen suddenly wonders how many stomachs dragons have. She will look it up later. For now, the dragon’s protest has her grinning impishly. “Perhaps Eleenin is correct, but diet is a big part of health. Besides, you are no stranger to combat. It seems strange to me that this problem would start now. Diet, or perhaps something else, may be at fault.” Noting Laezila’s tender-hearted concern, Josleen excuses herself to let the presumed couple discuss Hildegarde’s health. “I’ll get out of your hair for now and visit later. Take care.”

Laezila , with the other two having left, moved to stand in front of Hildegarde with a well-placed sidestep, her concern written all over the paling ebony and scar-prominent face as she scrutinized the recovering one of the Steward. "The truth, Hilde, what's going on?" With her heart, with these attacks, the girl meant, not the business regarding Orikahn and some Savage Queen or whatever. The other, free hand of the drow lifted to gently touch at the jawline of the Silver, specifically one of those healing cuts.

Hildegarde ’s cuts were fresh and tender, some deep and ripped enough that they had to be sewn shut by the capable healers of Frostmaw. The Silver watched as Josleen left, bidding her a soft farewell, knowing that she would see her good friend again soon enough. As Laezila’s hand gently touched one of her healing cuts, the knight released a stifled hiss of pain. It was tender. “If I knew, I would have said. There is just a pain in my heart from time to time. It happened in Xalious, at the town meeting and then again when fighting Orikahn.”