RP:The Cenril Clan Massacre

From HollowWiki

Part of the Saurian Onslaught Arc


This is a Mage's Guild RP.


Summary: Lanlan approaches Quintessa about her mission to capture the Cenril clan of Razurath and she accepts his help dealing with them. On the way they have a lovely conversation about her heritage and they bond as guildmates. Once they arrive, Lanlan sticks to the plan while Quintessa goes off-script, but everything works out in the end! More than plenty of Razurath prisoners make it to the super secret drow base in Gualon for Gevurah's devious plans.


Dormitory

How bland, you think to yourself as you take in your surroundings. All around you are small cots, with cheap blankets and white sheets. They are all well cleaned though, and the cots look comfortable despite their size. At the base of each cot is a small trunk for each person to store their things in, and at the side of the bed is a small table with a candle and some individual items for each person. There are many windows, all with thin blue curtains that blow gently in the breeze through open windows. All this makes it seem as if they don't spend very much time in here. To the east is a door leading to the mage tower, and to the south is a small door heading towards the library.



Since Lanlan found out about their secret meeting, Lanlan has been holding a grudge against Daath, Dyraxdiin, Gevurah, and Quintessa. He's normally very good at holding grudges, feeding it three times a day like a precious baby or goldfish. True, he spread a hilariously petty rumor and ultimately seems to have gotten away with it, but it wasn't just that. Surface people are always weak. He knows. But unlike the other sunlight sucking dweebs, Quintessa demonstrated her fortitude in the Fog Forest. Of course there's always the other option. There's a strong possibility that Quintessa being a young, impressionable, clueless, amateurish, (etc), student, was SO impressed by Lanlan's magnificence, that she faked being strong just to impress him. The list of his admirers is endless, he knows! Would they kill just to get his attention? Maybe not. That's why he decided to personally involve himself in preparing the Razurath to be eliminated, so he could know one way or the other. Not because he needed to prove to Gevurah (and himself) that she was wrong when she chose to marry Daath. If Quintessa happens to be a really strong empath, she could see ALL OF THAT written on his face when he finds her in the dormitories and says, "I think it would be prudent if I helped you capture the Razurath in Cenril. I'm very good at taking prisoners."


Quintessa is just about finished with her makeup when Lanlan stops by dormitory. She places charcoal pencil down and turns to look at Lanlan with a half smile on her face. "Oh?" She's not surprised he wants to capture the Razurath. They were a blight and had to be destroyed. Maybe Quintessa can milk this for what its worth, she saw his illusions against the jaguar and they were a perfect distraction. "I'm glad you want to help. It's a rare opportunity for an apprentice such as myself to gain experience from a higher ranking mage." She is trying to appeal to his ego, "Besides, it'll make us look good in the eyes of Gevurah and that's something we both want... Well, I guess if the rumors Twintessa told me are true." She's going to question him about that later. "For now let's focus on the Razurath. I have a note right here from one of them. Let me go get it-" The changeling girl turns and begins to dig through her letters before she finds the right one. "Aha!" Quintessa lifts it in the air before she reads it out loud, skimming over bits that were unimportant. "Blah blah blah. I am an embarrassment- Blah blah. Here! ...visit building 3, floor six, last door at the end of the hall. This is where they are hiding out. We need to strike quickly before they escape. I hear they are trying to take some ships out east but that's not going to happen. Gevurah needs these things for her experiments."


"I think you made a mistake on your make-up," Lanlan says, leaning in with a critical eye, "Ah! Never mind. Maybe you like looking like that." He also looks around her dormitory, passing silent judgment. It was very unlikely they had the same tastes, his were so highly refined. In his mind, he was feeling really harsh, until she brings up what a high-ranking mage he is, of course. "That's true you know," he says, pointing at her with a white-gloved finger, "it's a very exclusive group that I show my abilities to." But almost as soon as she has his good grace, she squanders it, by gleaning a truth. Somehow, admitting that his motivations could be derived from anything other than his own satisfaction seemed repugnant. "Yes," he says staring inquisitively into her eyes, "We should save that kind of talk for after we have the razurath bound. Lest we become...distrac--What in the world is wrong with your eyes?" While she digs for the note, he squints, trying to listen, but also becoming very jealous. Her eyes were very special. His were scarlet red which might be strange on the surface, but hers were too different colors. Why, if he is so special, does he not have two different colored eyes? He thinks all this while she tells him the important information, and it's almost lost. He blinks his way out of his head and confirms, "Building three, floor six. Got it. Gather whatever else you need to bring. I'll arrange our carriage," his tone implies this is a big sacrifice.


If the changeling is bothered by Lanlan judging the placement of her eyeliner, she doesn't show it. She's far too preoccupied with the thoughts of attacking and enslaving Razurath. She doesn't look up at him until her mentions her mismatched eyes and she frowns just the tiniest bit at his comment. "My eyes are fine," she says flatly, trying not to let on how self-conscious she was about them. "I- I was just born with them this way and there are others like me." Quintessa pushes the distracting thoughts of her eyes out of her head as she folds her note and secures it in one of her cloak pockets. "Yes, building three, floor six." she repeats, "Go get the carriage, I'll summon my backup and meet you by the road." She turns and searches through her scrolls. Daath had left her the means to rise a few undead warriors for this mission and she wasn't going to squander the opportunity by forgetting to bring them. She knew where some corpses were buried nearby and it would a simple matter to summon them to fight for her. A few minuets go by and a couple of 'Codi o farwolaeth a ' m gwasanaethu i',' chants later and Quintessa would finally show up with two zombie soldiers flanking her on either side. She hopes a couple undead won't bother the carriage driver too much on the way to Cenril, otherwise she might have to recruit a third undead minion to drive the confounded thing. She isn't above murdering innocents, but it can be a real pain sometimes.


Village Path

This path begins just outside of the town and leads straight to the Mage Tower. The tower is smaller than the watchtower to the south, and much odder. It appears that this tower is made completely of pure water. The windows seem to shine like glass, and probably are, but the tower is solid water, holding the other pieces by magic. From here the door looks to be made of wood, and there are no hinges you can see, but rather melded straight into the walls of the tower. The magic to create this place must have been enormous but the benefits well worth it. An impenetrable tower, unbreakable except for the man made entrances, it would be the perfect place to make a stand. And you do not doubt that the wood is also magically endowed, such a little magical effort compared to the great tower of liquid. To the west is a rustic looking library that is connected to the Mage Tower, but is made out of ordinary materials, though well fashioned, which seems to hold many books to help in magic learning. To the east is a rough cliff, and to the south is the main part of town.



Lanlan attempts to wait in silence but the carriage driver wants to make small talk. "Why," Lanlan begins in an impatient tone, "are you asking me about the weather?" After that the driver takes the hint and shrugs, dumbly. In a moment Quintessa arrives with her two dead minions, and Lanlan steps between them and the carriage. "What have you done, Quintessa? Why are those wretched, putrid things following you?" Lanlan takes a dramatic step back and gasps. "You can't mean to have me share the carriage with them?" Then he visibly calms, "No of course not. Of course the driver would not mind them sitting with him. Would you?" Lanlan doesn't actually give him the chance to object, though, "No actually I think he'd appreciate the company. Someone who will listen to him talk about...the weather." The carriage driver would have endured a wide manner of strange customer, and as long as he can be assured that the dead will not bite, he can be made to acquiesce. Lanlan gets in the seat of the cabin. It won't be a long ride, but Lanlan intends to use the time to get to know the apprentice. "I've only heard rumors," he says with a grin, the word alone providing him amusement, "but I don't think you're like most humans, are you? No, I've heard you're something...else. Something better."


Quintessa was content on staring out the window but she has a very hard time resisting the opportunity to make conversation. A little smirk grows on the girl's pale face as her gaze flickers from the view outside. "Well, the rumors are true. I'm not human. Not fully anyway. My father was seduced by a hag who drove him crazy and forced him to look after me." She scoffs. "If you could call the treatment I got him 'looking after me'." The hex blade idly brushes the hair in her eyes behind her ear as she stares into Lanlan's scarlet eyes. "When he died I saw more humans and I was actually disgusted by them. Such weak, squishy things. No sharp fingernails, no pointed teeth, no natural magical abilities? How are there so many of them infesting Lithrydel when most of them are useless?" The strange girl shrugs and looks out the window again. "One genocide at a time, I suppose." She thinks back to who she was a month ago and wonders how she got mixed up in all of this. "I read a book on hags," Quintessa says, continuing to explain her heritage, "Sometimes they would kidnap children to eat, swapping out their own children for them to foster. This is where I first read the word 'changeling' and it stuck with me. That's what I am, a changeling. Something twisted and corrupted swapped out for something... ordinary and weak." Her expression becomes solemn, "I'm surprised you ask, Lanlan. I thought you hated me because Daath recognized my talents. Just because I am his apprentice doesn't mean that I owe him any sentimental loyalty. He's just a teacher that I have to call Magister."


The Pass through Xalious

Dwarven craft is in this road, as it is well levelled, and smoothly done. The top layer is dirt, but beneath is an obvious layer of stone. Dwarven stoneworkers, being very good road builders, set this to keep rain from washing away the top layer and to also keep carriages from sinking into muddy ruts. It is a fine portrayal of ancient craftsmanship.



He expected a little darkness in the apprentice, but almost immediately he's more engaged in the story than he planned to be. He shifts on his seat to angle more toward her and presses his hands together, imploring her to continue. A tense smile stretches on his face, one that he has to reel in, stop it from getting to big for him to speak through. The part about her dad dying especially riles him up. "Ohh Quintessa," he says, the tension boiling over, "You killed him didn't you!?" He chuckles madly at the thought and claps. "Ohh I was right about you! It's okay you don't have to tell me. Sorry for interrupting please go on." This marks one of the only times in the world Lanlan has ever apologized for interrupting someone else. But he was also apologizing to himself for delaying her. It only gets better. "Yes the problem is there are just so many of them. Infecting everything with their stench." He's never encountered a hag before, nor had he read about them. "Hags. I've heard they can be quite frightening," he lies. Why would he bother learning anything about the trials human people face? Now he knows why he should've. To scare them! "Oh Quintessa don't say that about yourself," he says, "You're not 'twisted and corrupted'. Your fingernails and sharp teeth (while maybe a little grotesque), make you so much better than those ugly, stupid, stupid humans." Then he shakes his head and closes his eyes at the thought of him hating her, which was a little true. "You think that because of how I treated you in the fog forest don't you?" He asks, buying time. "No no,I just really hate boats. Of course you have no sentiments for Daath!" He says with a relieved chuckle, "He's just such a...a bore, isn't he." Quintessa would probably recognize what an abusive remark Lanlan thought this should be. Truthfully, it was one of the worst. Also Lanlan didn't know much about Daath, so he couldn't come up with anything horribly personal. "No, actually, I like you Quintessa. And hags, huh? I think I'd like to know more about them. Where is she?" They were passing through Kelay now, and soon they'd be in Cenril.


"Thank you, I like you too, Lanlan. You are definitely the opposite of boring." Tessa smiles as she watches Kelay fade away from view. "I don't know," admits the changeling, her hand moving to touch her chin, "She talks to me sometimes as a spiritual voice that I've began to reference as 'the call'. Most of time in my dreams. Other times I'm awake but I'm... hypnotized by her." Quintessa shakes her head, looking back at the illusionist. "But she hasn't talked to me since right after I killed my father. She told me to search for myself and I would find her, but it's been over a year now." The young girl reaches inside her cloak to pull out a metal tin of clove cigarettes, but she only twirls the cig between her fingers. "So, I stopped looking. I wanted to practice magic. I wanted to fight with swords. I didn't care about some old hag anymore." The changeling scoffs for the second time this conversation, "I suppose that's what she meant by 'finding myself' in the first place." Her gaze returns to the landscape as she sees the walls of Cenril drawing near through her peripheral vision.


The Gates of Cenril

The massive gates of Cenril are wide and inviting, although it is easy to see how quickly that could change. Flanked on either side by high, fortified turrets, the gates can be barred shut and a heavy portcullis lowered to provide more security. The field before this gate is barren, all greenery trimmed or burned back to provide the perfect killing ground for the archers patrolling the walls.



Obviously Lanlan has no trouble believing when someone likes him, but they're usually much more hesitant to admit it. Some how it being so easy for her made it harder to believe, or maybe just less satisfying. He narrowed his eyes dubiously, deciding he'd have to find out more. "Hm. Sounds like a potential liability. You should take care of it," he says callously referring to her hag mom. When they reach Cenril, Lanlan pays for a room at an inn, assuming the apprentice is poor and wouldn't be able to help with this. Lanlan has one component of their plan figured out already, and he pulls a hat out for Quintessa. It's a Rune-Jaguar Invisibility Cloak! "I know I didn't argue when Karasu said she could keep the pelt for her research. But..." he just shrugs. "Anyway it wasn't working at first. There was another component I had to go back to Rynvale for to figure out. It works now. You'll turn invisible if you wear this." The head part would still smell like tea-tree from Lanlan's shampoo.


Quintessa nod her head at Lanlan when he says that her mother is a liability that should be taken care of. "I couldn't agree more," At the inn when Lanlan pulls out the cloak for her to wear during the mission she cannot mask her excitement. "Oh! You shouldn't have! No really, you shouldn't have, Karasu is going to be so miffed that I have this..." She would deal with her later, right now she had bigger issues. She wraps the cloak around her shoulders and shrugs, "Hmm, it's not as stylish as a piwafwi but it smells nice. Thank you, Steward Lanlan." She orders her undead to stand by the door before turning back the half-drow, "Well, shall we begin planning? Word is the Razurath's ship is set to sail first thing tomorrow morning. We'll still have all night to finish the job the easy way before we are forced to bring the sailors in this mess as well. We could sink the ship and be done with it, but I'd rather do it the easy way."


He sighs,"I'm going to disagree. Piwafwis are not stylish. And they have a stupid, stupid name." The truth is Lanlan would not have given it back if he didn't feel obligated. But there were serious repercussions for stealing a guild-mate's property, which is certainly what he would be accused of. He would almost definitely get away with no form of discipline, but it wasn't worth the risk at this point. Anyone trying to discipline would be immensely disappointed in how it would be received. Their room was nice, Lanlan never settled for anything but the best, it had a bed, a window with a view, and a table with two chairs. Lanlan sat at one. "If we know the name of the ship they've hired, we can set a snare. Something crippling they'd never expect." He thinks for a moment, then a wicked smile spreads across his face. "Tell me, Quintessa," he says as he leans back, "During your discourse with Gevurah and her minions, did she say they have to be...intact?" As far as he knew the only limitation was to keep them alive.


"Piwafwis are the pinnacle of drow fashion and I don't want to hear anymore about it." She sit across from him and pulls out a local city map which she spreads out on the table. "There are several routes from here." She points to a building circled in red ink, "To here." Her pale finger lazily drags over the surface of the map until it points to the docks. "And here." Her mismatched eyes flicker up to Lanlan. "We technically don't need them all alive. Out of the 40 or so I say we only need ten. Enough subjects for our research. The rest are just meat, but these ten should remain unspoiled." Her voice betrays her giddiness but she continues to try and hide her excitement. Quintessa is ready to use all the skills and spells she has been practicing.


Clearly Quintessa was a lost cause. If she thought piwafwis were fly then she is hopeless, and there is no way around it. "The pinnacle of drow fashion is dull just like the rest of drow fashion." Luckily she's good at other things, like planning murders and murdering. When she lays out the map and the beginning of her plan, he leans in, absorbing the details of Cenril's grid of streets. "This," he says, poking a spot between two houses, "is a dead end. I can guide them here." He looked up at her to make sure she was following. "Once they're here, we'll have to subdue them somehow. I can make it easy for you." The trap will take one of two things to set up correctly; time or energy. Since they might be in for a fight, Lanlan would rather save his energy. So they agree that at least he should leave early to prepare the snare. It's fairly simple: The Razurath are currently hated by almost everyone! All Lanlan needs to do is convince them some of these people are actively looking for the Razurath. There were probably four likely routes the razurath could take, but they wanted to make sure they only took one. To begin his work, Lanlan recalled two of his agents that lingered in Cenril. This city was home to him once, and he inevitably made enemies. It was good to keep tabs on them. Tonight, his spies were given instructions, and medallions. They'd wait at two possible routes the Razurath would take, and as the hour goes late, activate their magic medallion. Lanlan hastily enchanted them to have a single charge that would last for at most an hour. When they activated, more militarized drow or half drow (illusions) would appear to form a hunting party. They wouldn't notice the Dinos apparently, but would begin closing in after they passed. Lanlan and Quintessa would likely take it from there, corralling the reptiles into an alley to get picked apart.


The Razurath would not be expecting an assault like this. While Lanlan is getting his traps set up, Quintessa decides to employ a bit of stealth and uses her newly acquired invisibly cloak to conceal her presence as she stalks the area around the building currently being used as the dino hideout. Unfortunately for them, the changeling is growing impatient and her bloodlust is becoming unignorably persistent. She had to kill something soon. Mismatched eyes watch from behind magical concealment as the first of the razurath begin their secret migration to the docks, a bit earlier than Lanlan had planned. "He better actually have allies in this city or we might have to capture an entire ship..." She whispers, not entirely against the idea of hijacking a seafaring vessel. Either way, Quintessa knows now is the time to act, so she skulks across the street to watch them closer. "...eleven... twelve..." she counts, taking note of the size of the first wave. There should be almost thirty more waiting inside and she decides to wait here and follow the next group. She doesn't have to wait long, much to the hex blade's excitement. "...nine...ten..." Twenty-two total had made there way towards her partner so far. She was about to follow after to give assistance like planned until a devious thought popped up in her head. A wicked grin grows on her face as she turns back to enter the building the second wave just came from. Perhaps two waves would be enough. Inside an elder razurath prepares the third wave. "Now, remember children, stick close to the adults and everything will be fine. We're headed to a place were our people can get some peace, finally. Now, grab your packs. The other two groups should have found a safe route for us by now." The third group, made up of three adults and six children , strap packs to each other before one of the three adults takes the lead and exits out into the hall. All is silent here except for the footsteps of the scout in the lead. "Everything looks fine," he says back to the others before rounding a corner. Unfortunately for this lizard Quintessa was waiting for the chance to kill just around that very corner. As the rest move to join him a metallic -clank- breaks the silence for a slip second before the lead Razurath's head slides from his neck, a torrent of blood gushing forth and onto the floor. As dino blood sprays over Quintessa's concealed form, her silhouette is first reviled before the enchantments keeping her invisible fail and fully show the changeling in all her horrific glory. A hideous cackle echoes down the corridor as she steps closer, her fear inducing aura spreading as fast as her laughter could bounce down the hall. It swallows the group as the children stare wide-eyed at the hex blade, and the two adults try to shield them with there bodies, "Run, children!" One says, trying to push them back, but they were petrified by the magical fear. "Just go!" says the other, "Get them back to our room! I'll take care of this one," The dino charges, but Quintessa is ready, "Streic iâ!" Calls the hex blade as she swings her katana, an icy gale slicing the enemy's torso, freezing the blood before it falls to the ground. "Iâ!" She calls again, a second swing producing another gale, this one strong enough to slice the arm off of the razurath adult. It falls to the ground with a thump as his entire body freezes over, and he stares at Quintessa in horror, unable to move. She walks up to him with a sinister grin, a pale finger reaching out to push him off balance. His last moments fade to black as the dino-sickle shatters on the ground, sending the rest of the third wave fleeing to their safe room. Somewhere across town, she hopes Lanlan is capturing them instead of slaughtering them like she was planning on doing.


Razurath scouts stalked the alleyways, making sure their route was safe. It wasn't! Squads of drow lay barely hidden in choke-points, waiting for the Razurath to move and get pinched. But after some diligent stalking on the roof tops of some houses, he dinosaur scouts believe they found a safe path. Of course they did, the one Lanlan designed for them. The half-drow agents knew the plan and the objective: only ten had to be kept alive. When they realized the Razurath were leaving in waves as opposed to a mob, that made their night much easier. Not long after the second wave of dinos passes the first checkpoint, Lanlan's agent fills in the path behind them. With their imaginary friends, they create a slow moving blockade of adamantine armored villains. The Razurath do take notice, and adopt a sense of urgency, nearly jogging with all their luggage. The faster they can reach the boat the better. They were fast approaching the path deemed 'safe' earlier by the scouts. Of course it wasn't, Lanlan was there the whole time, waiting for them. In the shadows of the houses on the road, he was invisible, thanks to the magical slate-colored robes he donned. When they turned the corner onto Lanlan's road, he waited. Only when they reached the middle of the path did he step from the shadows into the moonlight. The magic in his cloak fades gradually, and he slowly twists into vision. Behind him 10 illusive footsoldiers did the same (though not as dramatically, they wore dumb piwafwis not magical cloaks). The dinosaur people pressed on, but slowed, wielding caution now, bracing themselves for what now seemed to be an inevitable melee. Behind the razurath appeared Lanlan's two agents, and their own illusive squads. Now the Razurath could see they were outnumbered! Their only hope was the dark alley closest to them. If they could bottleneck Lanlan's forces, they could probably win, they were almost certainly better pound for pound. A red scaled dino directs them, ordering haste, and they drop their luggage and run into the blacked out alley. They can't hide though, Lanlan can see them and so can his friends. Lanlan's voice echoes ethereally near the ears of his agents, "We only need ten." There was twenty-two crammed in an alley ready to fight them off with steel. Razurath can't use magic. They're doomed! The razurath lit torches but it would only help them a little. At Lanlan's silent command, a thick rolled in and enveloped the whole street, including the alley. Figures moved and twisted within, and insidious voices whispered in undercommon, apparently signaling their allies, pointing out specific dinos to target. They become frightened, swinging their swords at shadows and wisps. The leader was mostly undaunted, stalwart in the face of adversity. Lanlan targets him first, lighting him up with faerie fire. It didn't burn, but anyone could see his pink glow through the densest mist. A twang. A crossbow bolt bursts through the fog, destined to pierce the leaders face, but he's able to deflect, always being aware. The next bolts he can't deflect. A dozen bolts move so fast, they seem to simply appear in Lanlan's instantly bloody enemy. The apparently perforated refugee struggles to come to grips. How? Maybe if he had more time to think, and wasn't so afraid, he'd be able to figure out the truth. It was an illusion. But he doesn't. A real bolt slams through his forehead and he falls to the ground. They're frightened. They're leaders dead. There's nothing keeping them in order now, and they quickly retreat to the back of the alley, whimpering and pushing. Lanlan illuminates another enemy in faerie fire, agent rushes in wielding two curved swords. In 3 quick moves, the half drow cuts a hamstring, slices between ribs, and wedges a blade in the middle of its face. It drops. Lanlan's voice is loud and seems to come from everywhere in the fog. A simple demand: "Surrender." Seconds pass, maybe even a minute and there's silence. Another razurath lights up in faerie fire and instantly breaks into sobbing, wailing. "No, no, no, no! Don't leave me!" But they do, the friends surrounding him instantly retreat and leave a wide circle of empty space. The sound of footprints to his left, a jump and a landing to his right. The creature swings an axe in both directions hitting nothing. Silence again, the dinosaur trembles. Then it hears hissing, gurgling, liquid sloshing, and a boiling orb of green acid splatters against its belly, dissolving its flesh in seconds. It doesn't kill quickly though. Its intestines and stomach turn to soup, and bleed out, a horrifyingly pungent odor accompanying it. The dinosaur collapses, struggles to pick up its innards, but they fall through its fingers. Literally, dissolving them down to their bones. "N-no..." It reaches a skeletal hand out for help, but no one answers, and it falls down, dead. It was an illusion, but believing it so strongly can cause one to faint in fright, or even have a heart attack and perish like this poor soul. There was no more fighting after that. Lanlan lobbed a bag of manacles toward the dense pile of terrified reptiles. "Surrender." They obliged.


While Lanlan and his contacts wrangle the razurath between the dino-base and the port, Quintessa continues to corner the ones that waited until the coast was clear. The proverbial coast would never be clear for the razurath this night or any other night. Their time on this planet was almost at an end. A low, scrapping noise is heard by the saurians hiding in their room as the hex blade draws closer, dragging the tip of her sword behind her. She even begins to sing a gentle tune as she examines the door. "...everyday, I imagine a future where I can be with you..." Her voice is as beautiful as it is chilling. Meanwhile, inside the room the razurath cower, some huddled together, some have stuffed themselves in cabinets and broom closets, but all of them were terrified of the creepy girl just outside of their room. "...ink flows down into a dark puddle..." Her arms lifts her blade and swings, the tempered steel slicing into the wooden door. "What will it take," she continues to sing, hacking away at the door, "Just to find our special day?" A spike-heeled boot kicks through the door the rest of the way, flooding the room with torchlight as the door is knocked from its hinges. "Da-da-daaaaa! Do-di-da, do-di-da, do-di-da, da-da-da-da-daaaaaa!" A single razurath child backs away from the door before he trips and falls and tries to scurry away from the singing changeling, but he isn't quick enough as Quintessa steps closer, a horrific grin on her face. "What good are words..." She stabs downward, her katana impaling the dino and cutting right into the wooden floor, "...when a smile says it all?" The dino youngling slowly sufficates as his lungs fill with blood, and Quintessa smiles with glee as the life fades from his eyes. Momentarily distracted by murder, the remaining five adults, including the elder, are able to muster their courage and draw their weapons to surround the girl. "Enough!" calls the elder, ending Quintessa's lovely song, "This ends here, you are outnumbered!" The razurath have the numbers but they lack the resolve. These are craftsmen and caretakers, not warriors or tacticians, and the changeling knows it. Her cruel laughter echoes through the room, the torchlight in the halls dimming as the maleficent aura of the hex blade floods the room. The elder drops to a knee as the oppressive force of Tessa's magical energy exerts itself onto all present in the room and causes them to feel fatigued and sickened. "You fools!" she hisses, her voice low and distorted, "I could have killed all 40 of you if I wanted. The only reason you've survived this long was because I was merciful. But there is no more mercy left in the world for you." Before they can react, the hex blade has pulled her sword from the child corpse and has adopted an aggressive stance, almost daring them to charge her. When they don't immediately attack, she begins to chant an incantation. "Tân yn tyfu, cynnau tân yn ddisglair, tân ben fy nbod heno..." A burning red glow begins to emanate from the spellcaster and one of the saurians is panicked by the casting of magic and charges, but without a planned attack or proper weapon, she is easily countered. The female razurath attacks, swinging at Tessa with a improvised club, but the wooden weapon is quickly sundered by the superior equipment. With the club gone, the hex blade finishes the job, carrying the swing through and into the neck of the dino, leaving her choking on her own blood and sprawling on the floor. "Llosgi llafn." She says, not letting a second of combat be wasted before she enchants her weapon, the tempered steel of her blade setting aflame. The remaining three razurath look at each other for some kind of plan, but it is too late. "Tân! Tân! Tân!" She swings at each one of them, each being targeted by an arc of fire. Before they can even look up, their lives are snuffed out by the terrifying magic of the hag-born. Only the elder, and the children remain. "You're a monster..." the elder forces himself to say, a mix of hatred and fear in his eyes. However, Quintessa finds humor in the fact that he'd call her the monster. She begins to cackle, her dark magic amplifying. "Tân yn tyfu, cynnau tân yn ddisglair, tân ben fy nbod heno!" Somehow her words echo through the room along with her laughter, flames burning around the changeling in a wide circle. "Tân yn tyfu, cynnau tân yn ddisglair, tân ben fy nbod heno!" The flames burn hotter and brighter, consuming the elder as he screams in agony. Her sadistic laughter joins along with his screams in a horrible melody, her malice fanning the flames of her magic. The room burns along with the children and any trace that they were every here. The rooms adjacent burn. The whole bottom floor burns. As Quintessa leaves the burning building in the background, a sense of satisfaction consumes her. It is time to meet back up with Lanlan and discuss what to do with the survivors.


If only Lanlan could've been there! That type of theatrical murder is his favorite. Artisanal murder. Fortunately, he captured more prisoners alive than necessary. There could yet be time for shenanigans. But he'd have to wait. Quintessa hadn't come back yet. While she was on her way, the frightened refugees shackled themselves in the manacles Lanlan donated to them. Even bound as they were, there was still a chance they could escape or even overpower Lanlan and his henchmen, so he maintained the illusion of a platoon of footsoldiers to surround them. The fog was dissipated however. Something arrived while the henchies were checking the bonds and linking them together so they'd form a chain; none could slip through the cracks. The fog was gone, the night was clear, but somehow that wasn't enough for him to identify what stalked him now. The strange, gangly, sharp clawed silhouette that appeared in the threshold of the alley was...an unwelcome sight. Something about it was unsettling, unsavory. And he was vulnerable here, as the Razurath were vulnerable. He knew it wasn't a person. The way the creature approached without a hint of trepidation into his space was otherworldly. So he braced himself, and with a muffled word, brought his minions to him to guard. He illuminated it in Faerie fire. It was harmless, but it revealed her features. Now could see what he was looking at. "Quintessa," he said with a sigh, yet still not able to relax completely. Her hair and clothes were heavy with spilled blood, half her face was darkened and glossy with that half congealed sticky fluid. "You look wretched," he says, frankly, "like some kind of creature." Since it's safe, he dispels the illusion of his army and pulls back his hood. The ever-black shadow fades from his face, and the ethereal gray cloth of his robes evaporates into thin air, revealing again his comfortable traveling clothes. That was a welcome amendment to the plan," he says, referring her decision to split the razurath into groups. Normally he wouldn't bother admitting that, but he wanted to appease her in case whatever monster she unleashed might still be growling just beneath the surface. He didn't take his eyes off her. While they organized their dinosaur train, Lanlan gradually became more acclimated to her presence. But he didn't forget. The thing he saw or half imagined would serve him later, to haunt his enemies. They'd need to organize a transport to Gualon now, and Lanlan would utilize connections from an old life to do it. He hated working with humans normally, but it was better than waiting til morning. So he hands a letter to a minion and waits for him to leave. They'd have a little while to wait, and Lanlan was at ease now. He settles his eyes on hers and grins mischievously, "What did you do to those poor creatures!?" Maybe she would tell him, depending on the level of detail he might even laugh or clap, and then say: "I changed my mind. Earlier I told you not to tell me how your dad died, but I think some day you should. Because it must've been very special."


Quintessa arrives unceremoniously, her still bloody katana resting against her shoulder as a lit clove cigarette hangs from her mouth. When she is illuminated by Faerie fire she stops to look herself over, letting a cloud of smoke escape through her nose. She's covered in more than just blood and as she steps closer anyone can see the soot that cakes her hair and clothes. "Good evening, Lanlan." She is in too good of a mood, "Ah, yes, quite a haul here." Mismatched eyes scrutinize the future test subjects approvingly as she flicks ashes in their direction. "Oh, Lanlan," she says, giggling like a school girl when he said she looked like a wretched creature, "It isn't like you to flirt, it's embarrassing me." A last drag is taken from her cigarette before she flicks it at one of the razurath. "So," she turns away from the prisoners as she blows smoke over her head, her gaze locking on the illusionist. "You've contacted your people? Good. Gualon isn't far but there is still a chance that these creatures might step out of line. And if they dooo..." She points the tip of her blade at one of the captives and he raddles his chains he's shaking so much. Quintessa laughs loudly into the night at him, returning her sword to her shoulder. "They get the idea." She walks away from the prisoners to rejoin Lanlan, telling him all the gory details of what took place at the building. "So I thought, why let them all leave? It would be inefficient to try to fight them all in the streets. So I cornered them." She describes how she attacked, swinging her sword whenever she told of another life she took. "Oh, you should have heard him. 'Enough, we're just peaceful lizards with a complex caste system, leave us alone'." She uses an exaggeratedly old voice when she mocks the elder, "But I didn't leave them alone, I killed them all, even the younglings." The sun has almost peaked over the ocean by the time Quintessa finishes her story. "And that fire is probably still burning, I don't know. Oh look! They're here!" She points out Lanlan's caravan that he summoned not too long ago. Together they would travel to Gualon with the prisoners. Even if there wasn't enough room they would stuff them inside the transport wagons and deliver them to the temple. They would ensure that the delivery of razurath test subjects would make it to Matron Gevurah. "I will most definitely share the story of how I killed my father!" The changeling says to Lanlan cheerfully after they arrive in Gualon, "But that will have to wait until some other time. We have an extermination to finish."