RP:The First Blaspheme, A Theory Realized

From HollowWiki

Part of the How to Train your Wizard Arc



  • Ilydia, Fanged Elf, Herbalist.
  • Kasyr, Vampire Revenant, Kensai.
  • Kirien, Vampiric Foxkin, Terramancer.


Hanging Corpse Tavern


Jolie was just sort of sitting about at the bar, wondering what to do with nineteen barrels of explosives.


Jolie drank a whiskey.


Kasyr is actually fairly subtle in his approach today, given there is not a catastrophic cacophony of wood and stone shattering in the wake of his arrival. No, today there's merely the creak of the door as the trenchcoated vampire enters the tavern- one that is prolonged as his simply presses his back to the door and holds it open. "Hrm. Bonne soir, Madamoiselle Joliette."

Jolie quirked a brow. "Hm?"


Svilfon enters the tavern behind Kasyr; his entire body hidden in an ebon cloak, a deep hood over his head disguising his features completely. His fine wizard hat was left in Frostmaw, as was that god forsaken bird, Percy. Within his robes one arm is heavily strapped to his chest, the other resting easily at his side - though so deep are his clothes it's almost impossible to tell whether or not his arms are free. He doesn't speak as he stands there, his head lowered in silence. This was the path he was forced to walk down. So be it. He would not back away, even if it meant he was destroyed... and judging by what Kasyr had said, that could well be likely...


Jolie said, "Oh, Kasyr. Back so soon? "


Jolie noted the apparent prisoner, then.


Jolie said to Kasyr, "A little warning would have been nice.. the cellar.. never mind. Bring him down. Mind the webs.""


Kasyr casually runs a hand through his hair, the motion stirring up his ears from their habitual hiding place. "Oh, well, you know me. I can hardly keep away from tu et this city when I'm not ...causing trouble. I suppose that es the only way to sum it up." Pushing away from the door so that it can swing shut again, the vampire simply saunters over to a table, before planting his hands against the back of it, "Still, I was able to find a test subject on such short notice, oui."


Kasyr said to Jolie, "I wasn't expecting you to be here, en verite. I was just going to loiter around and run up a bar tab."


Svilfon adheres to Kasyr's earlier commands, remaining silent in his ambiguousness. Though beneath his deep hood he frowned at the words 'test subject'. He should have expected as much, he supposes.


Jolie nodded, slowly, her mien quite dour. "Therer are prepations to be made. And no sacrifice.. We'll have to make do, I suppose. Go ahead, I must gather a few things." The 'captive' was paid as little attention as possible. Just a 'test subject'... right?


Kasyr runs his hand down to his neck, and than cracks it, "Sacrifice. Mes apologies, then. I'll be certain to give tu more forewarning should this work as hoped." Svilfon is cast a glance at that point, before the Revenant moves past him and towards the cellar, "Come on. This should be interesting, oui?"


Svilfon follows behind Kasyr towards the cellar, doing his best to ignore the words the Kensai and necromancer share. They are far from... inspiring.


Jolie ducked under the counter, vague cusswords drifting between the sounds of a safe door grinding open and the clatter of various metallic objects.


Ilydia glided into the tavern quietly, her eyes carefully scanning the area as she entered with a cloak of rags. Out of the corner of her eyes, she notices the movements and smiles softly within her cloak.


Kasyr takes one glance over to Ilydia, the empath offering her a brief command, "Stay quiet, et observe. For better or worse..well, you are the next one this would be intended for." Ideally. If the wizard doesn't get reduced to pile of smouldering giblets seething with dark energy. And even then. "Well, on y va." And around the counter the vampire goes, a brief moment taken to follow Jolies orders and get the 'round thing', before he's following after Svilfon.


Kasyr makes sure to empty the nuts before he heads down, Steadmen getting a helpless shrug from the vampire, "Sorry about that."


Kasyr picked up 1 unholy goblet.



Cellar

This cavernous room has been excavated from the softer earth beyond the rock-hewn steps, faced in sturdy bluestone blocks and lit with flickering torches. A light draught blows from narrow vertical slots along the lower part of the southern wall, providing stale, if breathable, air and suggesting the presence of a space beyond. Void of wine racks, barrels, or any item to suggest the purpose of this cellar is to store liquors and ales, the only outstanding features are the two caged areas, one measuring ten yards by ten in the Western corner taking almost a third of the room, another of half that size in the Eastern corner. Both are barred in adamantine steel, reinforced with mesh of the same material. The only entrance to either is a small hatch with a dozen gnomish locking mechanisms. Spells have been imbued in the bars and mesh to prevent errant spills of magic leaking toward any gathered crowd. Along each side of the larger cage hang one each of timber club, hand-axe, short spear and long knife. Rust-coloured splotches have clearly defied attempts at cleaning, and stain the cage floors, spattering too the cellar floor beyond. Sundry rough tables are here and there, furnished each with a thin candle jammed to an empty wine bottle .




1 black ritual-candle is here. [Get 1] 1 bloodlust dagger is here. [Get 1] 1 aura-of-protection is here. [Get 1] 1 iron manacles is here. [Get 1] 1 brass censer is here. [Get 1]


Svilfon stands silently in the shadows, awaiting the word for this to begin.


Jolie set about the various placement of objects, sweeping errant webs aside, which stuck to her clothing like string superglue, doing little to improve her generally flinty mood. "Nutbowl.. er.. chalice. On that barrel there." The ritual was designed for the protection of those observing, and the slapdash approach had her worried. Still, things awry made for interesting times, and all.


Kasyr does his best to try and avoid the spider webs on his way down into the cellar- uncertain as to much about their 'properties' save that they are likely the work of the spider entity that had been inside the pub yesterday or at least the the siblings that Jolie had hinted at. Whatever the case, he's at the bottom soon enough, a moment taken to adhere to the necromancers instructions and provide her the chalice. That done, he finds his way over to Svilfon...er, his well disguised and cloaked companion, and simply proceeds to loiter with his hands in his pockets.


Ilydia moved slowly down, following Kasyr quietly, her steps silent and little to give away her presence. The cloak around her fluttered lightly but soundlessly as she reached the bottom and moved carefully to not disturb whatever these people were doing.


Jolie rested the last of her armful of jumble in place, a roughly circular design that encompassed the center of the room. A small package provided the censer with fuel, and lit would produce an acrid, bitter smoke that stung the eyes and nose. Various inelegant, lumpish candles were lit, too, a dagger carefully placed by a set of manacles already embedded in the floor. "Right," said Jolie, with another worried glance at the arrangement. "All in the circle. Kasyr, you're assistant. I need the vic..subject manacled." Just in case, she did not add. "Then you can catch me a couple of large rats."


Svilfon moved over to where the manacles are embedded into the floor. He looks around just briefly from the deeply obscuring shadows, before slightly spreading his legs so they are close to where they will be fastened to the ground. He moves like an automaton, no hints of his emotions betrayed in the movements. He was resigned, it seemed, for good or ill.


Kasyr does as Jolie asks, stepping into the circle along with Svilfon, before he dutifully begins to affix the manacles to his fledgeling- care taken so as not to cause him any more discomfort than he was already due for. With a few aggravated huffs coming from the former-tiefling, courtesy of the unpleasent smoke which lingered in the air, he's able to finish the initial task hastily enough, leaving him free to inquire, "..Where's the barrel full of rats? We could really use that right now."


Jolie said, "LIve rats. Dead's no good. We need fresh blood. Living blood."


Jolie 's frown did not abate at the thought of scant offerings. Where was the damn annnoying elf now she was needed... Rats were plentiful, however, and probably the quickest option.


Svilfon resists the urge to test the shackles - he has spent a lot of time down here, he knows even a giant would struggle to tear free of them. The sickly stench of the burning candles doesn't bother the wizard - he remains motionless, ready to endure what is to come.


Jolie did check the manacles, however, glancing up briefly to say to Kasyr, ".... hurry up?"


Kasyr nods a bit, before he tilts his head up towards the cellar door, "So just living rats than? No other specifications, et quoi-ce-soit? I just want to make sure, so that I can carry this out as promptly as possible."


Svilfon also resists the urge, though a little easier, not to say to Jolie, "Don't quack this up," Though, not quack. He has seen her cast some twisted spells, and most the time she succeeds... or she tells him what came out was what she intended... Oh gods... No! He regains compose. This is what must be done.


Svilfon also resists the urge, though a little easier, not to say to Jolie, "Don't quack this up," Though, not quack. He has seen her cast some twisted spells, and most the time she succeeds... or she tells him what came out was what she intended... Oh gods... No! He regains compose. This is what must be done.


Jolie gave Kasyr a withering glance. "Bring me something alive. It's not difficult, eh?" The necromancer proceeded to strip her garb down to bare essentials, baring the flame-scarred skin of arms and shoulders, where a black stick of some kind of greasepaint was employed to mark out unintelligible sigils on her flesh. Her face, too was thus decorated, no mirror needed for a task she'd undertaken many times before. "Never meant to be used on the living," she muttered, probably to herself, "Let alone the undead.. You, girl." This last was for Ilydia, to whom she beckoned. "Come here."


Kasyr meets the look and refuses to wither before it, instead offering a simple nod. From there, he simply dashes out from the cellar with all due haste. 


   Ilydia moved carefully towards Jolie, not fully trusting her though she suspected that if Kasyr had followed this one's orders, she was expected to do so also. She did, however, glance at Svilfon as she neared Jolie.

Jolie said to Ilydia, "Keep still." She worked deftly to mark other, different arcane symbols on the girl's arms and face, forcing sleeves up necessary to achieve this task. "Once the sacrifice is made, you must under no circumstances open your mouth. Is that clear?" Not that Ilydia did much of that anyway - but safety first, as it were.


Kasyr is coming back down the stairs, a clump of fur in his hands. Courtesy of a rather copious amount of sleeping potions and food to serve as bat, the vampire was finally able to rid his backpack of -some- of the creatures that were loitering in it.


Jolie peered at said faint marking, her eyes rolling ceilingward for a second. Nothing to be done about it, however. She could feel the darkness roiling in her, eager to be free. Ilydia might note that the necromancer's small, star-shaped pupils had dilated to almost blot out the peridot of her eyes. "And stay in the outer circle. Do not cross those lines, in either direction."


Jolie added, "Oh and.. run and bolt the door, there's a lass."


Kasyr said to Jolie, "Er, so, where do I put these, enfin?"


Jolie offered Kasyr a nod. "I was just telling your.. little friend there, once the ritual begins, you must stay in the inner circle. Even you could be damaged beyond repair, tiefling.."


Jolie knelt, scrawling a series of lines and twisted shapes around Svilfon, to whom she whispered, "You, on the other hand. I need your mouth open. Do not resist.. you have not the same protection as those two. It could get ugly."


Svilfon adheres to Jolie's commands silently. He opens his gap-toothed mouth, dressed now with two pearly fangs, and stands motionless. Ready to take what is to come. He would not resist her, of this he is certain; she was an ally of his, after all. He would not have the spell consume her if it failed. Or his other allies in the room. Well, this was Kasyr's idea. Maybe him if everything hit the fan.


Kasyr simply moves towards the location that Ilydia is standing, albeit in an exceedingly cautious manner. It would not do, after all, to disturb any of the markings upon the ground. Once positioned, he'd simply take to releasing those creatures currently held within his custody. "..If I thought I had the time, I'd buy a slave from the drow. Maybe see if they had one of those ..duergar sort." The vampire can't help but frown at the freeloaders currently strewn about his location in a potion induced stupor.


Ilydia is standing still like a statue.


Jolie stared at Ilydia. "Door.. bolt it?"


Ilydia nodded and moved to the door so that she could bolt it, her rags fluttering as she moved swiftly. Yet despite her speed, she displayed a careful elegance as she gracefully moved towards the door and closed it, shutting it so that none could enter and disturb the plans.


Jolie turned that blackening, humourless gaze at the litter of small animals strewn about, motionless. She'd no idea what consequences would come of their being drugged, as she presumed they were. Add randomising factor number seven... "Kasyr, I need you here a moment. Roll your sleeves."


Kasyr peeks his head back into his pack, as though trying to discern if there were any other creatures within its' apparently unfathomable depths that might serve as a suitable offering. "Huh. Wonder if I can find that nippy little hatchling. Er..es that a fish in there."


Jolie cleared her throat. Loudly.


Kasyr stops trying to figure out why there's a fish in his pack, and simply swings it over his shoulder once more. From there, he simply makes his way over towards Jolie, and rolls both his sleeves up, awaiting whatever was to follow.


Svilfon can feel Jolie's rising malevolence as she prepares herself. His own anger would rise as he glanced at Kasyr - woefully unprepared as he is. But with an imperceptible shrug the wizard would return to staring at the Jolie - finding her oncoming darkness almost intoxicating.


Ilydia returned to her spot and became quiet as she stared at the creatures upon the ground.


Jolie used the stub of that black marker to mimic the designs she'd drawn on Ilydia. "Keep your mouth closed, once we get going." It was like asking a river to flow uphill, she thought, a little glumly, but added, "Trust me, Kasyr. Things will go ill, if you do not."


Kasyr lifts his finger as though to retort, and instead simply offers her a frown. He was more than aware of things going wrong with Cabal involved, with with his own particular dealings with the Obsidian Pool. So, for the moment, he simply focuses upon keeping his teeth grit so that he won't suddenly blurt out some particularily poorly timed comment.


Jolie drew back from the vampire, and the eyes that met his were entirely dark now, glistening twin pools of obsidian. Not another sound escaped her as she gathered up her jeweled, arc-bladed knife and the erstwhile, pausing to blow a little remnant salt out of the bottom of its bowl. The sleepy mongoose shortly was no more, its little throat gashed wide, expertly enough that no drop was wasted on the floor. Holding the animal by the scruff of its neck as it kicked its last and bled out into the chalice, those observing her would witness a strange mist rising from the sin-eater as darkness sweated through her pores, dripped from her eyes as charcoal tears, her nose, ears, all of it wending free to form a black cloud of foggy tendrils. Smoothly, her face a steely mask, she moved to pour the libation around the lines of the outer circle, returning to repeat the process again and again until all but one of the animals was slaughtered and its lifeblood daubed upon the protective rings concentric about the gathered.


Svilfon cannot stop the feeling of growing trepidation as Jolie's dark magicks begin to take form. He can almost taste on the air the nefarious nature of this spell, and shackled as he is, commanded to silence by his sire, he is in a prison of his own making; a whore to the power of Jolie's formidable necromancy. Each moment of unlife is cherished, as are the memories of his normal joviality. For within this, the darkness, her namesake, he knows he will be changed, perhaps forever... All for the sake of a rogue... All for the sake of needless vengeance... But at least now when he faced the Eldermage, the lichdrow will not be the only one who has danced so wickedly with death.


Kasyr follows the necromancers movements with his eyes, only a slight twinge of pity felt for the creatures he had offered up to her. Still, his priority at this moment is simply respecting both the ritual and Jolies command, his jaw clenched with such 'enthusiasm' that it was beginning to hurt. Whatever he is to bare witness to, this dark ritual that will serve as a rite of passage for those within his Coterie, he knew he could not allow it to shake his resolve. He would do his utmost so that it would not fail or be endangered due to his involvement. It is not the first, nor the last, dance of darkness he'd be party to.


Jolie trod toward the intended recipient, her motions lithe, fluid as the blackness that leaked from her, impatient to be freed from its prison. Her mind, the same roaring conflagration of darkness it had been since she'd consumed the innumerable evils of the Colton Black, swam with visions of murder, cruelties beyond belief, cities on fire… Her eyes rolled back in her head, black rolling into blackness. There was a terrible shriek as her lips parted, yet the sound which erupted to shatter the cellar's silence could not be said to have emerged from the necromancer herself - it was a cacophony of dying screams, all at once enraged and futile, pitiful, pleading, the bass undertone rich with malevolence. Arms raised, the sineater threw back her head, her arms stretching wide as if to embrace the horror she was about to release. It was never meant to be used on the living. Or the undead. And less yet intended to be a two-way process. A tiny part of her was sorry for Svilfon. It was soon flooded and swept away by the blackest tide of all, and as she lurched to her knees and forced her face to hover over the wizard's her smile was a rictus of unspeakable evil, her eyes mirrors to Svilfon's own darkest sins. There was a pause, then, another and more horrible silence, in which all gathered might experience a tremor in their souls, or what passed for them, and minds were forced to take a reckoning of their deepest, most hidden and shameful recesses, as the sineater's art summoned their evils as a magnet summons iron, nothing spared, no quarter, no mercy at all.


Svilfon can not help himself. As he stares at Jolie's evil; the consumed essence of Colton black; his own darkest sins... He strains against the manacles that hold him to the floor. Understanding of why he was so incarcerated is no solace against the onslaught of hatred, so complete in its malignant desire to tear open his soul and bare his shame to the sineater, it causes his mouth to twist into a vicious, silent scream of pain. He makes no noise, and he barely moves; the command to remain in shadows an unbreakable one from the Revenant who sired him; yet, as his gaze locks onto the abyssal blackness that is Tenebrae's eyes, he knows in this decision he erred. But there is no time to dwell upon it. There is no time to escape. There is just an undiluted series of his own darkest actions; crimes against the world he kept so well hidden, screamed in silent confession to the sineater and her insidious power...


Kasyr is expecting a number of things: a dire manifestation of the dread forces they were tampering with, perhaps an apparition that would not be able to be properly fathomed by a mortal mind or some formless peril that would seek to oppress those present in the cellar. What the vampire is not expecting is the particular flood of images that start to seep out from the back of his mind, a sea of sin that churns up a darkness not only born of his soul and psyche- but from those countless individuals that the Revenant had consumed when he was a tiefling. It takes all the vampire resolve to drop to his knees without shrieking, fingers driving at his temples as the images take turns painting over his reality. The only sound the vampire could make, was the rasp of breath that escaped through clenched teeth, and the cracking of enamel as it was ground down. For those passing moments, Kasyr almost wonders if his Phylactery has failed him- his life robbed of him by that unholy ritual, and his soul sent silently screaming to perditions


Ilydia simply felt odd as her very existence seemed to almost slip from her, yet she grasped at it, quickly holding it together if only barely as what evils she had done slipped from her, her dark plots to gain power and to destroy her enemies. Still, Ilydia remained still on the outside though a dark aura now seemed to flow around her.


Jolie || There was a rumble that rose from nowhere, or everywhere, that shook the foundations of the tavern and those within it alike, and the horrific multiple-tone screams began once more - a sound so sick and vile that all passersby on the street outside would flinch away from the building, and all within cower in utter terror of a thing unknown and hopefully unknowable. The necromancer herself twisted above the wizard, in apparent and rending agonies. What slid from her, what abased and foul substance that her unique metabolism had stored for long now - too long - corked like a bottle of poison, its toxins distilled, surrounded her slender form, encasing it entirely. Tenebrae had, for all intents, vanished within her own burden and the creature which rose to four dark limbs in her place snapped its febrile jaws, its great head swivelling upon its serpentine neck to glare blackly at first the once-tiefling, then his helpmeet. Trapped within this shadowy beast, the necromancer was to prove its first victim, the woman desperately trying to force it into abeyance and failing.. The blasphemous essence of Colton Black planted its forefeet either side of the manacled wizard and spread its wings, two sails comprised of screaming, weeping ghosts and lunged its horrible face toward the protected pair beyond the blood-circle's sticky lines, maw an abyss that promised to swallow them whole and booming a roar of bitter disappointment when the ritual barrier - barely - proved effective against its awful, neverending appetite.


Svilfon stands in the darkness that is given unholy life; the twisted, corrupt essence of that foul bastard, Colton Black. Its released malevolence too much for the wizard to handle as his mind screams with crimes buried deep beneath his jovial exterior. The slaying of Lasarus and his macabre pleasure in giving Joliette his skull for a toy. The decimation of the prisoners gifted to Redhale for nefarious plans. The corruption and desecration of the elves in Sage; their own hands clawing through their faces to destroy themselves as Svil released his stolen spell... His twisted wants, his hidden desires; all are laid bare before this horrific manifestation of Jolie's twisted gift... curse... her sin eating. No longer can the wizard even begin to struggle in the manacles, the twisted parody of a saurian beast too much for his mind to comprehend; the screaming ghosts, the pure malevolence... The wizard breaks before Joliette's power, his mouth frozen in a silent scream, his eyes seeing nothing but damnation... He is broken, lost... and never will the wizard be quite the same again... none who have seen such evil could be.


Kasyr isn't quite sure whether the twisting feeling in his gut started before or after the images finally faded to naught. The only thing he is aware of is that it's not going away, that hellish vision which loomed before him seeming to exude a palpable feeling of..terror. It's not a feeling the vampire is particularily fond of, given he normally has barely a reason to feel it save for the welfare of others. And yet during this particularily bleak moment, it's coiled within the pit of revenants stomach, gnawing upon his insides as though it might be able to provoke some form of retort. Even so, the pain in Kasyrs' jaw, and the particularily glum expression that had been upon Jolies face, serve as ample reminder that this is not the time for bravado- leaving the vampire unable to do much save to stand fast within the circle, and rest his faith within the machinations that the Sineater had put in place


Ilydia merely stood there as the aura around her swirled around her contained only barely. Her greatest evil was her torture of 'her' though whether or not she suffered, it seemed obvious that she did not truly suffer much. Then again, very little that she did she considered evil but natural. After all, it was her nature to be evil and it was only Kasyr that kept her under control. Without his power flowing through her, his commands binding her, she would have loved to cause wanton destruction. Still, even she could feel ill effects as she stood even if it was nowhere near that which Kasyr had faced.


Jolie had expected the burden she had borne to be terrible, in its fullest manifestation, but not like this. Nothing like this… Trapped within its escaped entirety, her mind and body flailed to get some kind of grip on it, a shred of control, something to hold on to. But the dragon's darkness was strong, having been drawn out of a creature who possessed no conscience at all, a black echo of that murder's powerful will. Turning its frightful attention from the encircled tiefling and Ilydia, the beast made of dragon's sin and more besides arced its spine, its head lowering to settle a few inches above the Svilfon's screaming, silent face. Smoke.. no, something that was only like smoke.. drifted from the thing's nostrils, and it studied the wizard as though he was a … "Mouse!" The word was unspoken, for Joliette Thorne was far from the capacity for speech, but the thought rippled from her, out into the dark that had swallowed her. There was only one being in this circle left who was unmarked, unprotected by her magic sigils. The shadows around her compressed, choking even that small idea from her mind, which sank back into an abyss of terror. But now it existed, and could not be taken back, and it spread like a venom through the abominable shadow-creature. Snorting, it turned away once more, its fathomless gaze setting upon the sleeping body of the mouse, stupidly small in comparison to the vast being who slavered and roared at it, confused, dismayed. The poor little rodent had its tiny mind abruptly torn apart, its body splitting, spraying to fine mist as it evaporated. The beast had had its meal… it was, by the nature of the sineater, compelled to give something back in return. Inside it, Jolie wept in triumph, half-mad with terror, the other half of her driven even more insane by the glut of power that wormed its way into her. She was the sineater, and it was time now for her to drink the beast back down and make it do her goddamned bidding. Moments later, wiping mouse-guts off her pale face, as the last of the dragon seeped back inside her, she once more cracked a grin and leant over the wizard. Black hair would tickle his arms as Jolie's lips dropped to cover his own. It might seem a salacious act, if it wasn't so very warped… Jolie offered the wizard a kiss, merely a taste of horror, just a sip of the power she had, and now could better control.


Jolie tastes a bit like mouse-guts. owel. xD


Kasyr stands within the circle alongside Ilydia, a peculiar blackness forming about the vampire as though in response to the imminent 'threat' that the dragon presented. Still, he does not move, focusing instead upon baring through this moment in silence, those twilit tendrils which sought intentions to guide their passage finding no purchase within the Revenants mind. At least until Jolie manages to regain control over her nightmarish 'captive'- the darkness that's formed around Kasyr now wilting away. With his focus regained, the Kensais' attention slips over towards where Jolie stood- peering curiously at what appears to be the culmination of the necromancers actions.


Svilfon stares into the eyes of unbound madness and feels whips of hatred lash his soul; consume his mind; devour his essence... His face remains locked in the twisted grimace of silently screaming terror as he sees released in its gaze the freedom of true evil - the forsaken and the damned, passion found only in hatred, joy found only in pain. He can hear the screams of a thousand victims; their fingers filed away, their bones broken, their skin flayed... Torture and the sadistic happiness that comes with it so undiluted, if the wizard were able he'd have taken a knife and driven it into his unbeating heart... anything to be spared from this horrorific display of darkness unleashed. And then it is gone... drawn back into the sineater... And he is free... But the ordeal he suffers has just begun, for rising with all the grace of a hunting tiger comes Tenebrae, so casually wiping the remnants of the rat from her face. He watches her walk close, his mind barely able to register anything other than the freedom from horror... Until she presses her lips against his. He feels it enter him, then. The damnation of Colton Black; the vile, putrid essence of evil claimed and reclaimed by the Joliette Thorne, then forced into the wizard. Veins that no longer flow sanguine seem to him to be filled with grotesque menace - his primal hunger since being sired fuelled by the infusion of evil. It wraps around his soul, seeping into the very essence of the deceased spell-caster; shifting him, changing him, corrupting him, until the kiss is finally broken. Eyes still hidden in shadows glare with tangible hatred at the sineater, but still Svilfon remains silent, the screamed promises of death held in check by the insidious commands of his sire... It was in him now... for good or ill... for how long unknown... but that evil resides within, ever whispering promises of power for the small price of pain... seeking to corrupt him as it did Colton Black... until he would give in or be driven insane, either way it would be satisfied...


Jolie drew back, paler than a Frostmaw dawn, still spattered in the now-smudged remnants of the tiny sacrifice. "Kasyr.." she gasped, dropping to her backside, hard, all her limbs trembling. "Hunt.. he needs to hunt. And soon." For such sin tethered in one without the capacity to transmute it would in turn be eaten, from the inside out, unless it was permitted malevolent expression.


Kasyr gives Jolie a brief look, than pauses to think. Given she's directly addressed him, it's likely that he's 'allowed' to speak now, as it were. One can hope at least, as the alternative is possibly being devoured by a darkness whilst unprepared. "I suppose I ought to take him somewhere where he may run free." The vampire adds, before quietly adding, "Are tu alright, Madamoiselle? "

Ilydia watched as Svilfon went through the process with simply amusement. It seemed interesting to her, fun even. Her eyes sparkled with desire as her eyes slowly turned slightly more silver. Still, she made no movement as she had not been instructed yet to do so.


Jolie nodded, though she was not. "I'll live." Which was the best that could be said for any situation, really. Well, most situations. "See to your .. friend." Ilydia was spied in the sineater's still-obsidian and frozen gaze. Her thoughts were not pretty.


Svilfon turns his shadowed gaze to the Kensai and in silence demands they hunt. His own hunger so great the empath would easily feel it flowing from the wizard.in tangible waves. He struggles against one of his shackles, then the other, before violently tearing at his leg to free him from the incarceration. He would feed... he had to... even if he had to tear his own damn legs off...


Jolie half-rose, fell back, forced herself upright. She was lyca - poison to vampires, and had already been consumed once this day. "I'll be upstairs. Take him through the tunnels, give Varen warning to stay clear." Shaking like an aspen, she weaved her way free of circle and encomapssing tables, crashing into a chair before making a slow crawl up the stairs to reach for the bolt.


Kasyr nods to the necromancer, before he carefully steps out of the circle- traversing the room with all due haste for a solitary pause when he's near Jolie. Between what he could sense coming from the necromancer, and what he felt earlier alongside Ilydia, he can't help but turn back to glance at his Fledgeling, "As a note, cherie. At the earliest moment that Satoshi es Available, you are hereby -required- to ask her for a lesson. After all, she has a fair bit more experience than tu. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll know what to do when you state I asked her to teach tu a lesson." With -that- out of the way, the Revenant offers Jolie the ghost of a smile, before finishing his strides towards the Wizard. Once there, he's quick to kneel, hands moving to the manacles that bound him, "So, how does a trip to Trist'oths mines sound?"


Svilfon speaks in a voice layered with barely controlled hatred as he's freed from the shackles, "Time... to feed... Kasyr." He spit the name at the man, "Time to feed..."


Svilfon is so going to eat the god-damn parrot when he next sees it!


Jolie doesn't make the cracker wanna polly joke


Jolie stumbled loose of the cellar's hatch, slamming it shut and sitting on it for good measure. Steadman peeked up over the counter, took one look at her, and sank back down.


Jolie said to Steadman, "Whiskey. Make it a double."


Kasyr said to Ilydia, "...You can talk now. By the way. In case that wasn't apparent."


Svilfon stalks over to the tunnel which leads from the cellar to the coffin shop. He flashes the Kensai hidden glare beneath his shadowed hood, "We hunt, Kasyr. We hunt..."


Ilydia nodded at Kasyr and smiled wryly. Before motioning at her throat and then her eyes and finally her chest. She simply could not talk now and there was little so far that could change that. 'She' had horrible sleeping habits and Ilydia wanted 'her' to rest since without 'her,' Ilydia could not speak and in fact had many limitations-limitations even she did not feel comfortable with.


Kasyr offers Svilfon a particularily harsh look, before he gets back to his feet and starts after Svilfon, "I'm aware, Wizard. Let's go." Ilydia is afforded a silent invitation to this little sortie, the harshness from his look fading, at least partially, "As a note, Cherie- in future, you would be best to..respect the solemnness of certain events. You'll live longer."


Svilfon offers Kasyr a swift nod, before stalking through the tunnels and out into the dark streets of Vailkrin, where he would await Kasyr without patience.


Ilydia revealed her teeth with her smile for just a moment before assuming an appearance of being solemn, her face completely devoid of emotion as she stared at the ground. Of course, that was just how she assumed she was supposed to look, so perhaps her impression was incorrect.


Kasyr gives Ilydia a look, before he starts after Svilfon, "Just be respectful of those of your Coterie. He es your sibling, after all, et not so well adjusted to.. This." And with that, he's through the passage.


Ilydia nodded softly to show she understood. After all, despite how much she enjoyed his suffering, she did still care about her siblings, if only because of Kasyr.


Streets of Vailkrin

The main shopping district continues here, though the broad central street of the City narrows somewhat toward the west. North is the armourer's shop, and to the south is a small stone building with a range of well-made coffins displayed along its outer walls. To the west the road is heavily lined with trees, and leads toward some sort of historic monument.


Svilfon stalks up and down the street, his every movement betraying his seething hunger, "Lead on, Kasyr. I... cannot wait any longer..."


Kasyr takes one good luck at the Wizard before his pace picks up until he's steadily jogging in the general direction of the woods outside of Vailkrin. "Let's go, than. Feel free to take a stab at racing moi to that cavern within the woods. It leads straight to the kingdom of the drow."


Svilfon grins dangerously, before he runs past the Kensai. There is an animal grace to the way he moves; an innate sense of stalking prey layered in his every movement. Oh yes, this would be good...


Kasyr falls down into a crouch, gloved fingers grinding out a dull symphony for the brisk evening air. For a few brief moments the vampire trembles in place, the muscles upon his body tensing in preperation. And than abruptly, a blaze of blue fire shreds out from his being, violently expanding in all directions, before it begins to spiral upwards- a manifestation of the spiritual energies within Kasyr being coaxed awakened. Ilydia likely won't even see the Kensai move- the fledgeling left only to contemplate how she suddenly is left standing by herself in the street.

Sliding!!!

As you enter the dark area, you try to crawl slowly down the steep rock path. Huge roots and rocks protrude from the ground, allowing you to climb back up if you wish, however you may lose your footing and take a horrible tumble down further. The path is your choice.


Kasyr is waiting at the top of the path when Svil appears, still ablaze with the soulfire that's shed with every motion he took. And which trails in his wake as he abruptly casts himself down the path, slamming down upon the steep incline with a certain degree of glee. On the brightside, Svil is going to have a clear path going to the bottom, as the currently hyperactive hybrid has proficiently carved a path clear of rock and root to the bottom.



Mine of Misery


This chamber was recently etched out of the cold forbidding stone of the Underdark and is filled with dull grey gloom that lies thickly in the air like ink in a sea of deepest black. The only light source is a dull purple that twinkles in tiny lanterns that hang from the ceiling providing only the tiniest amount of illumination that aids the slaves to toil. Several hundred of these slaves hack at the walls wearily, groaning with exhaustion as their wasted hands cling to rusted pick axes that they move with the haste that a slave can only make when threatened by the agony of a Drow slave mistress. A number of these slave mistresses bathed in gloom stand erect near the etching's entrance, their lithe black forms barely visible in the glow of the fairie fire. Their wicked red eyes however can easily be made out, as these cruel red orbs dart from the slaves to their wickedly barbed lashes; it would seem they are more than eager to enact cruel and vicious punishments upon their forsaken captives.



Kasyr takes first place! And so, despite all the stares his altogether slapdash and haphazard journey earns him- the vampire simply stands where he is, and dusts himself off. Likewise, the bluish blaze of soulfire extinguishes itself, leaving the vampire looking relatively inconspicuous again. Albeit a bit late, but still.


Svilfon stalks into the room in the wake of the flaming Kensai, his expression showing he is far from amused. He cares nothing for these games; nothing for burning trails in the caves. He is here to feed, and feed he will, before the darkness that was Colton Black consumes him further... For he can still feel the putrid essence of the man corrupting him from the inside... A dark gift... one that fills the wizard's body with a strength born of hatred... It was time to hunt.


Kirien was…not quite sure why he was here, but here he was, slinking through the caverns in the dim with little trouble, making no noise. The only real thing to give him away would be that brief glimmer of a cobalt star swinging on its dainty chain from one white-tipped ear. He was naught more than a whisper, a wraith perhaps glimpsed out of the corner of an eye - but by then he'd be elsewhere, a shadow amidst shadows, apparently joining his siblings on their little hunt.


Ilydia entered quietly and moved to be near Kasyr, her eyes looking around the area before glancing at the other two that were there also.


Kasyr takes a quick glance around the area before he pulls back, making a motion towards his Coterie mates to pull in towards himself. It's only when they gather that he'd begin to speak, his words a quick but quiet stream, "Only for today, in this specific area, until you leave, are you allowed to forsake my rules of feeding et kill whoever you encounter. Choose your targets carefully, however, given those present here." A quick glance is sent towards the slave mistresses towards the entrance. "Draw them away, lay waste, comprend?"


Svilfon impatiently listens to the Kensai's words, hardly paying them any real notice. When he's done with his command of sorts, or lack thereof, the corrupted wizard would snarl, "How many?" He doesn't even bother to wait for an answer. He turns on his heel and begins to eye the slaves; their flesh crawling with wounds from spending hours here, working in the dust-filled caverns to supply the dangerous dark elves with their precious stones. These hold no appeal to the starving wizard; such filth would not do. So the slave mistress is eyed; plump and ready, her whip meaning nothing to Svilfon in his enraged state. She would be his, and he would not share. In a tight voice he snarls to his brethren, "She... is mine..." There is no room to argue in the simple statement, and again without waiting for a reply, the wizard moves away from his siblings to begin his hunting of the sadistic drow female... and for the first time since he was consumed with the horrific darkness, he smiles...


Kirien slipped in close behind Kasyr, lurking over the Revenant's shoulder in his shadow and squinting at the other two coterie gathered. Though he came sporting a curious sort of countenance, lips quickly curved up into a grin broad enough to reveal sharp fangs and a rather recognisable hunger. There were a few cursory glances to Svilfon in particular, the empath apparently mildly bemused by whatever he was picking up in the wizard; but he kept quiet about it, noting that certain sense of bloodlust and the decay of corruption. "Hm. I see no need to draw anyone away.." This was a half-murmur to Kasyr, one of those calico ears nudged at absently before Kirien was skirting along the wall slightly, hands pressed to the stone behind him, sensing. "Aha~ they've been digging too far off to one side - a support is close to breaking." He seemed pleased with this finding. It would make his job easier, after all.


Ilydia ||Ilydia's smile widened as she heard the words, her eyes turning a reddish silver as she began to look around before she allowed her cloak to fall, her runes now visible as they darkened. A smile as she heard her brother's words, she nodded only briefly to acknowledge. With a quick dash, so fast that she at first appeared to be lightning then a simple ripple , disappearing from sight for a brief moment before reappearing behind her intended victim. Her runes now darkened greatly as to make herself nearly invisible and she quickly swept him away, disappearing further into the shadows. There was no scream thought it was not likely because the victim felt no pain. Instead, the small clump of flesh upon the ground, likely the victim's voicebox, provided the simple reason of why no sound could be heard but for some hoarse gurgling sounds. A distant snap could be heard as bones began to break while she began to do her experiments. It was only after several horrific moments that she finished her first prey, a bloodied mess left behind with what little pale skin she had on her body painted in red. She licked what appeared to be the victim's heart before biting into it, blood splashing all over the ground. And now, she looked for more.


Kasyr glances over towards Kirien, a look of mild amusement painting his features, "If you'd collapse the inner portion of the tunnels? We can't have witnesses...Nor unwanted guests." This last note is as the Kensai promptly stares straight at the slave mistresses which remained near the entrance. Not the one Svilfon had claimed for his dance, but those that appeared to be the overseers for this particular operation. With a brief tsk, the Revenant snaps his fingers, the gesture beckoning a dozen shards of darkness into existance within his proximity. Though they are sent hurtling forth towards those targets the Kensai had designated before they had achieved their proper form, he is still greeted with a satisfying crunching noise- the time spent airborne having apparently been enough for them to take their chosen form of a broadsword. His part done, the vampire simply moves over to his victims, to see if they'd all had the sense to die from their torsos being obliterated through sheer excessive blunt trauma.


Svilfon was oblivious in that moment to everything; his entire mind devoted to the smirking female and her vicious whip. He can hear her heart beating in the air, feeding her body with the blood the wizard so desperately wanted. And so he begins to move, stalking her within the cave. His movements are fluid and silent - a languid grace not seen before tonight's dark ritual beneath that nefarious tavern. When he makes his move it is swift and brutal. He steps in behind her, just as she turns - her magic protection enough to warn her of the coming vampire. But the strike of her whip is nothing compared to the pain that the wizard's hunger causes; the flesh torn off his face is ignored as if it never happened. Svil wraps one arm around her neck, his other arm, broken earlier by Satoshi's golem, seems healed by the magics they casted this eve'. It wraps around one of her flailing arms and soon the deceased spell-caster has dragged her off to the shadows. The noises that come from the pair are savage; a grunting sound full of sadistic joy, mixed so beautifully with the groans of the damned, overlapped only by the sound of flesh tearing and blood being greedily drunk. For they were freed this night to feed, and Svil had no intentions of stopping until there was nothing left of the mistress.. and only then would he start again, if his formidable companions left anything in their wake...


Kirien hummed thoughtfully, though the sound was but a whisper. "Don't stray too far then…" It was the only warning his little group would receive before the stone gave a rumble and shudder underfoot, shifting with frightening force as though the empath had wrenched the entire earth on its axis for a brief second. Mining tools tumbled and those not watching their balance would find themselves rolling haphazardly to one side; the kit vampire, pressed up against the cave wall, merely leaned into the rock and raised a leg. Boot heel kicked sharply back against the wall and then there was a burst of stone and dust as a part of the cavern abruptly collapsed nearby, showering them all in little bits of grit as a thunderous mess of rolling rock and boulders blocked off exits and escapes. Only once the cave ceased its rolling and tumbling would Kirien move away from the wall, hopping over debris here and there, moving toward one of the few mistresses still mobile, picking herself up from the ground. He received a vicious lash to the shoulder from that whip but he was gone in a moment, utilising his learned skill of outsmarting the drow in their own domain - there was a reason he'd earned the name 'wraith'. The mistress would find Kirien stepping back into perception close behind her as if he'd melted out of the very wall itself; and then there'd only be a muffled shriek as one hand covered the woman's mouth, the other, the metal one, shoving those extendable tektite nails unceremoniously through her neck. With a twitching, stilling body still held in his grasp, and a multitude of little wells of blood to drink from in relative peace, Kirien seemed quite happy.


Ilydia of the massacre, perhaps that is what she would be called here once she finished with her act, but likely not. Even so, that did not stop her as she moved, now freed from having to hide herself. She closed her eyes for but a moment before she ran, blinking out of sight before she faded into existence behind a slave, her teeth crunching on a large chunk of flesh as the slave stood there in shock, a gaping hole in his body, unable to even collapse as Ilydia held him by the neck with one hand. Even as his eyes began to roll, Ilydia seemed to laugh, a mad, insane energy pouring from her as the man's contents poured out of the gap, covering the floor under him in a mess of bloodied flesh. Yet somehow the man lived just long enough for her to release him and spin, somehow removing an arm which she promptly reattached-into his eye. From there, she broke the head in half and grasped the contents before crushing them in her hands, licking her hands as if a tasty treat had spilled all over her-as if she did not want to waste a single drop. Then, with a spin, she kicked the still collapsing body into another slave before fading, showing up with her arm in his chest as she slowly twisted, pulling out his still beating heart before biting it before the man's horrified eyes, blood spraying all around her, she began to tear the man to shreds, leaving only the skin intact. Finally, she draped the skin over her shoulders and did a light dance before she walked to yet another victim. Yet she did not kill him though he likely would regret living. She simply kept her vicious smile on her face as she pinned him on the ground, the screams now echoing from the walls as she began to twist the nails of the man, pulling them out before shoving them back in-hard enough to


Kasyr is taking a much more leisurely approach to the act of wanton carnage. Really, the Kensais just strolling along towards his victims without a care in the world, the only thing which causes him to pause in his steps being the one mistress that is either brave or desperate enough to stand in his path. Even as her whip lashes out towards Kasyr, the vampires simply placing his thumb beneath the hilt of his broadsword, waiting for the perfect moment to act. The last moment, it would seem- as the swordsman abruptly drops low to the ground and dashes forward with an unnatural celerity, a shower of sparks erupting from the ground in his wake due to the rapidly manifested broadsword that is being currently dragged. With a twist of his wrist, Gospels swung up towards the mistress, the flat of the blade being used to crunch into the drow with the full extent of the vampire strength- the audible crunch of bones shattering coming not only from the initial impact, but also from the secondary one derived from her soon-to-be carcass smashing into the ceiling. Even as gravity takes hold of the poor woman, it's apparently not enough for Kasyr, who simply hops from his position and hefts up the broadsword- so that he can decisively rend the womans body in two once it falls within range. Which simply leaves the vampire with the task of pulling her heart out so he has a snack as he -continues- to head towards those drow that he'd pinned down. Really, he -has- to be sure they're dead. He's thorough like that.


Svilfon is just finishing with his first victim; he feels her life ending as he drinks her blood, and the corrupted wizard basks in the misery of the last few moments of her life. But his bursting ire has somewhat been slackened. The grotesque poison of Colton's malevolent darkness is sated, it seems, by the blood... But Svilfon isn't. There is changes happening to his vampiric body, and it is demanding further fuel to feed the change. As Kirien casts his potent terramancy, Svilfon spends just a brief moment regarding his brethren, his expression ambiguous, before the wizard walks foward to where some of Kasyr's destroyed victims lay. Not even caring to hunt his own kills, the wizard drags a mutilated body off to the side and once again resumes his feast; blood soon soaking his face and clothes, leaving him painted sanguine in the dark Trist'Oth caves.


Kirien :: Ilydia's maniacal laughter ricocheted off the walls but Kirien paid it little mind, focusing on his current meal, still warm and twitching lightly in his grip. He might have been humming against her neck as he spun about, an arm winding round the mistress' svelte waist, hunter and prey engaging in some kind of morbid dance amidst the blackness of the mines. Once or twice, he stepped on a fallen body but did not care to check what he'd snapped or crushed as he normally would, currently too caught up in the art of feeding. Only when the flow of blood had been reduced to a trickle did he throw the drow out to one side by an arm, as though allowing her to break away briefly and perform a perfected pirouette - she didn't, of course, and crumpled lifelessly to the ground instead. Kirien puffed his cheeks a little. He'd not linger on it and moved for another taste of drow, disappearing a little deeper into the half-collapsed mineshaft in search of anything hiding in the gloom.


Ilydia now slammed her right foot into the ground as she jumped backwards, disappearing once more even as she landed on her clothes a moment later and she pulled her weapons out. Chains, Garottes, Scythes, and finally her favorites... She jumped up and launched it, a small thin blade attached to a chain. Rapidly, it snaked between five of the slaves as she twisted them towards her. With a kick, she broke the shin of one slave, crashing them all into the ground. The first man was perhaps lucky as she quickly launched him into the air before doing a dance with a scythe in hand, ending quietly with pieces of his body falling all around her as she curtsied politely to the remaining four, their bodies now paralyzed with fear. She grabbed the second and quickly spun, flinging him across the room before appearing in his path to kick him towards the roof, then to the floor, repeating the process until a giant splatter could be heard as her final kicked popped him open, with all his liquified contents splashing onto the floor. Of course, by then, the remaining slaves had begun to run and she threw a chain around the waist of one and pulled, splitting him in two, but not killing him quite instantly. She was on him in moments as she grabbed him by his hair and licked his eyes before crushing them in her mouth, ripping the skin off his back and breaking his ribs off, one by one. His screams echoed but only shortly as she pulled his lungs out. With two left, she smiled as she swung her bladed chain again, catching both in her arc as she pulled them both towards her, her strikes quickly dazing them. || Bringing one towards the sky, she wrapped her chains around his neck, choking him as she proceeded to shatter every bone in his body, leaving him blue for just long enough before she released the chain, the man now gasping for air, but only barely able to find any, barely alive. She smiled now as she looked to her last... With a deft spin, she flipped the last slave into the air, allowing the man to drop before she slammed into his arm, cancelling the momentum of his fall as well as snapping his arm clean into the roof as a bloody smear. With his temporarily still state, Ilydia reached down to the man's most sensitive spot and grabbed before she squeezed tightly and twisted before flipping backwards and twisting her entire body before landing. Even as the man began to follow her movements, she pushed his head to the ground and lifted her hand higher, tightening her grip to a near breaking point before she raised her hands behind her shoulder as if holding a baseball bat. Almost as if in slow motion, she swung, a clear snapping sound heard as she punched the man in his shoulder and did a flip, stomping hard where the rest of the man's sensitive parts would be. And with an innocent smile, she gave off feelings of care and worry, as if asking the man if he was ok, if he was alright. Then she looked at her hand and made a gasping motion as if shocked and smiled as she shoved the contents into the man's mouth before she pulled out the scythe, swinging it so that the man now was in two. And still, she had that innocent smile plastered on her face


Kasyr notices Svilfons marauding of his pinned down caracasses, the wizard offered a thoroughly unamused look. Still, the Revenants hardly going to chastise any of his Coterie during the midst of their revelries, instead simply chosing to ensure that the meals he's chosen to snipe are in fact, thoroughly dead. It's for that reason that all of the hybrids blades in the area quite abruptly thin out, each one taking the guise of a slender black Katana which seems to bleed a tenebrous energy. Alas, those katana's are a set, and the hybrid simply can't stand to see them parted from their twins- the likes of which are coaxed into existance by yet another snap of the vampires fingers. As though they might by the sword of Damocles incarnate, that secondary group of 12 katanas would melt into existance above the heads of those pinned down drow, before they violently slam down- neatly ensuring that each one is dead. With Svilfons group 'accounted' for, as it were, the Revenant simply takes to casually meandering about the section of the mine that isn't caved in- those slaves which begged for mercy only gaining a hiss in retort. Not from Kasyr, but rather from the sound of his blade sweeping through the air, and the deeply satisfied sibilant sigh the odious weapon gives off. The Kensais' motions are, as ever, professional in their nature- those barely perceivable swings only made visible due to the track of black that followed in the swords wake. Whether it's the simple but to-the-point execution of a slave through his throat being decimated by the sword as it ate through his flesh, the sadistic thoroughness of severing arms that might otherwise resist before the inevitable piercing of his heart, or the simplicity of hewing of a slave in half- the vampire is -very- good at what he does. The only thing that manages to give the vampire any pause at all, is the manner in which all the spilled blood in his wake seems to bubble in churn, almost as though he had a sanguine carpet following upon his heels. Than again, it could simply be that he was hungry. And there was that fellow whose entrails were currently spilling out over the ruins of his pelvis. Bonne Appetit, no?


Svilfon neither notices nor cares about Kasyr's anger as one of his victims is stolen. Sharing is caring, right? They are all family after all. The Kensai's powers are noted by the wizard, though - and were his mouth not filled with drow-flesh, he'd have whistled in quiet appreciation. Kirien's little macabre dance is offered a quiet grin, memories of the man doing the same to him the night he joined this coven still fresh in the wizard's mind. What does stop his feeding for just a moment is Ilydia laying waste to the slaves. He is.. shocked... All he can manage is a shake of his head, before resuming his feeding; a silent promise made to himself to never, ever piss her off. Family or not, she was bat-s*** crazy and he prudently decides to never fall asleep anywhere near her again.


Kirien had been further down in the mines during most of the ensuing chaos just now, reappearing after a short while, his face splattered with blood, rivulets of red running down his neck and soaking his hair. What exactly he'd been up to down there was questionable as there'd been little noise, but those drow hidden in the deeper recesses were now in various states of permanent disrepair and/or dismemberment, a bloody work of art painted on the wall. The empath shook himself off a bit before approaching another body; and, perhaps foolishly, he'd prod at one of those summoned katanas hovering over the meal he'd decided to pick out of the remaining slaves and mistresses not already drained of their blood in some way or another. There's a certain sense of malice and malcontent hanging thick in the air and Kirien's nose scrunched up in response to it. "Oh. No. I don't think you're that one," he murmured, mostly to himself before he stood again, head raised some, heightened perception causing him to turn in the direction of Gospel after a couple of moments. He pointed, somewhat dramatically. "That one! I think." Whatever he was talking about, the fox wandered on by the cursed Ouroboros weapon in an all too insouciant manner to grab at another body to nom.


Ilydia took one of her corpses, and put the head above hers before proceeding to do a macabre yet amusing dance, switching "partners" several times as she danced with the dead or dying. Finally, she reached a slave who seemed to cower before her and with very likely good reason. She merely smiled as she brought the man who now fought with tooth and nail to escape towards her, slowly, ignoring the man's feeble attempts to stop her, Ilydia merely shook her hair slightly before she pulled a single strand out. Dropping down, she landed with her knee in the victim's abdomen and using the opportunity provided by his reflex, she wrapped her hair around one of the man's fingers in such a way that two ends remained on each side of his hand. With a sweet smile, she began to pull on the ends, tightening the thread, first simply causing pain, then slowly the skin began to bleed, and finally, with a sickening snap and pop, the fingers came clean off. Taking her hand, she sunk it into the slave's chest until she reached his lung, opening it up so that the fluid within began to pool with blood mixed in. Carefully dipping a single finger in, she swirled it around before bringing it to her mouth and with ease, she bit into the finger, a satisfying crunch filling the room. Moments if not minutes passed before she moved to the next hand and finally, she opened a hole in the slave's abdomen and fished around inside before grasping her target and pulled. Slowly, with painful care, she began to pull the poor soul's inards out through the tiny hole she had formed. Finally, as he was nearly dead and she gave the slave a final blow-she ripped the face clean off, bone and all. Then, moving to a nearby slave, she pulled him to the first and began to feed him-the earlier victim's brains and inards, forcing more and more into him until he turned blue before convulsing and dying. And yet she hungered for more...


Kasyr abruptly whistles, his voice regaining the steely tone that so befitted his station as Revenant, "Finish your meals, feel free to take one for the road, but we are heading out. -Now-. Kirien, collapse the mine more thoroughly, et make sure there are no survivors, and the remains are..'pulped' if tu can. We've tarried too long." Once stated, the vampire simply finishes draining the poor sod he'd chosen as his 'current' meal. A gory task that ends with his throat torn clean open- and his head dashed open upon the rocks. Once that's done, the vampire's rather swift in making his way towards the entrance.


Ilydia quickly brought out her whip-like favorite and began to round up the slaves rapidly, bringing all the living, untouched slaves within her range towards her, lining them in a series of circles around her before using her chained blade to bring her scythes to her. She smiled and curtsied politely before she spun and began to dance, the bodies flying into the air, turning to salad as she danced until finally all that surrounded her was indeed what looked like a very red salad with dressing of the same color. She then moved for one more and grabbed the slave before quickly knocking him out and tying her chain to bind him. Moving carefully, she managed to get herself hidden once more under her 'cloak.' Now ready, she smiled at Kasyr, ready to follow.


Svilfon does as he's bid by the revenant. He finishes his meal with savage joy, before look around at the desecration caused by their family. He grins, the look altogether unpleasant, before bending down and grabbing the top half of a drow's body, the legs destroyed during their litle dance in the cave. He awkwardly lifts it to his shoulder, gore dripping behind him, before following in Kasyr's wake - he didn't want to linger when Kirien finished what he started... Though he was satisfied by the night's work - his burning hatred was drowned in blood, though he can feel it beneath his surface... flowing like a putrid stream through his undead veins, ready to awaken when his hunger returns...


Kirien :: At that order, somewhere deeper in the mines that he'd disappeared into earlier, something crashed heavily- the tunnel spat out a cloud of thick dust and rolling pebbles. Underfoot, the earth shook some and Kirien would have feigned innocence had he not been specifically told to cause some structural collapse. Instead he just grinned a little against the skin of the drow he was currently feeding from, motionless for another couple of moments to finish off the meal before dropping the drained body and moving to follow the Revenant. Silent steps took him on a path through the remaining corpses, the cavern trembling around them, reverberating dangerously as the ceiling cracked. Kirien hummed to himself, a hand raising and sliding left through the air as if he were skimming his fingers across a window; before them, the wall of rock he'd used to block the exit before opened up, allowing enough of a space for them all to escape. He'd go last, and wait for the others to vacate blast range before the entire mine went crashing down in one massive, roaring cave-in for some unfortunate sentry to come across soon.


Svilfon proclaims to no one in particular. "We are badass mo'fos."


Kirien might have grinned at Svilfon. "I'm a demolition expert."


Kasyr gives an appreciative whistle to the spectacle, before he simply places his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat, and starts to go back the way he came. That crash was fairly hard to miss, after all, and he needed to be gone.



Overlooking Gorge


Your stomach plunges sickeningly quick as you stare down into the seemingly bottomless pit before you. Thin tendrils of smoke lazily drift skyward from the massive chasm, and earthquakes and other signs of volcanic activity are quite common. The narrow strip of stony ground that is the continuation of the Milous Road is a web of cracks leading east, where the beginnings of a bridge over the endless gorge can be seen. a small paths trails northward, while south, the steep ledge you are standing on continues. There seems to be a lot of activity going on to the east as the finishing touches are placed on the new bridge.



Kasyr is currently standing on the cliff, a look of utter elation on his face. He can't help but be faintly aware that he'd be exhausted were he not a vampire.


Kirien had followed the coterie all the way and he was now stood frighteningly close to the edge of that cliff, swaying back and forth on the crumbling precipice with not a care in the world. Blood stained and streaked, he peered blindly up at the sky and inhaled the crisp air of morning, despite his useful need not to breathe any more. It was nice to have something fresh in his lungs, at least, after the stuffy, tainted air of the Underdark.


Svilfon said to Kasyr, "Who is next?"


Kasyr looks pensive for all of a few moments, before Ilydia is promptly eyed, "Well, I did say I was going make her a weapon- so I do believe the honors go to her next. Than either myself, ou Kirien. Satoshi will likely be the last to endure this process, lest we get another to our number." The Revenant pauses at that thought, before quietly adding, "Any suggestions, on that note, peut-etre?"


Ilydia moved silently and hidden within the shadows in search for a good spot to rest. Quietly, she sat down in a shadowed area as she began to play with her new pet, enjoying his reactions of fear. How she had managed to keep him quiet... Perhaps that would be a story one would prefer to not hear of-it was safe to say it was painful, bloody, and any normal person would be unable to eat or sleep for weeks after seeing what she did. She simply listened to everyone while she enjoyed her catch.


Kasyr said to Ilydia, "As a note, Cherie. Given we have left the area- that does in fact mean tu can't kill him. So it would be best not to play with your food too long, et get your fill. I'll be sure to send him to his proper reward after."


Svilfon stares at Kasyr for a long moment, before slowly nodding. "It is not pleasant," is his reply, before the wizard shrugs lightly. "And no suggestions."


Ilydia smiled with her teeth shining in a malicious way in response. She wouldn't kill her pet, she'd simply... enjoy him in other ways.


Kirien 's ears flicked absently, sightless eye watching wisps of mist float upwards, and clouds pass overhead. A pealing cry from somewhere close above startled him; and this time, he wasn't about to allow Firenze his fun. The empath ducked as an arm simultaneously shot upwards to grab at the hawk when it shot into range, having clearly intended on leaving another couple of scratches on Kirien's face. Firenze gave an indignant squawk upon being caught and his feathery body squeezed a little in warning. "I -will- shove you in my pocket," Kirien hissed at the bird before allowing it to flutter huffily onto his shoulder instead - it honestly looked as though it wanted to take a chunk out of his cheek. "A weapon? An' honours for what exactly." He'd been sufficiently distracted by the bird that he'd probably missed something.


Kirien 's hawk started biting his fingers. The metal ones.


Kasyr said to Kirien, "I've found a means of empowering us. It should suffice in awakening..certain gifts that we might normally get over time. Ilydia es next. As for mention of her as a weapon..well, she asked moi to see about making her dangerous. I'd say that was a fair success."


Kirien said to Kasyr, "Empowerin'? I'm listenin'..." A glance to Ilydia. "Success is...putting it lightly."


Kasyr twitchs, or at least his ears do, before he quite enthusiastically gestures towards Svilfon, "Ask him. Frankly, if you are in that much of a hurry to get stronger, than you'll likely follow the same route as the rest of us. Just...be forewarned. It will prove taxing upon tu."


Kirien reached to flick one of those twitchy calico ears and was still quietly amused by the height difference. It'd only show in a faint smirk though. "But he looks all spaced out. Besides, you probably know more," he said casually, shoulders rolling in an idle shrug. "How'd it be taxin'? I can only assume 'cause you'd be wakin' up stuff that shouldn't normally be woken up so early on. What kinda…'stuff' would it be, anyway."


Ithen moves slow and sure among the scattered rocks. His conscious whispering that it wasn't safe here, but the hunger was too loud and the since of loss deafening to all else. Eyes the color of burnt honey sweep the blood splashed group, showing no surprise or fear, to settle on one in particular. A tough grey tongue slips out to wet the dark furred lips in anticipation and the short half tail twitches ever so slightly. It was all the movement the melanistic serval feline made as it waits to creep ever closer. Their words meaning nothing in Ithen's focus.


Kirien twitched. His tail ceased swishing.


Kasyrs' ears wiggle when flicked, the vampires swiftly moving over to the foxes wrist to wrap around it and tug it down. Or try, at least, whichever. "Stop that. Please. Anyways- you'd be getting enough dark energy shoved down tu that there would possibly be a slight chance of ..I don't know..melting from the inside out from the sheer amount of malicious intent being stored inside you. As for what it would wake up..that depends -on- you. It's a reflection of your particular ..darkness et what you are. Who, even."


Ithen moves closer again while their attention is focused on each other. Just ten more feet...


Kasyrs' ears wiggle again, than fold back slightly, though his tail remains where it is.


Ilydia smiled at the memory of Svilfon's little transformation. She wanted to be twisted, ripped into tiny pieces and reassembled. She desired to be filled with the thick energy, to have it shoved into her. She shuddered in a sort of pleasure as she imagined herself being forced to swallow an unknown substance. Still, she couldn't afford to lose herself and so she simply continued to play with her pet.


Kirien 's attentions were subtly focused on more than just Kasyr. The very ground beneath him was his sight; that abyssal drop-off he was stood on the very edge of with the Revenant? He knew its every contour, its secret paths downwards into the gloom, the spots where rocks were loose or slippery underfoot. However quiet he may be, the feline could be felt, sensed, and it was why his tail had stopped swishing. The empath found his wrist caught in a firm grasp and took this action more than the remark as a sign that he should probably not poke at those ears, enticing as they were. "Shoved into me? Ooh." He probably shouldn't have looked as eager about that as he was. "It sounds interestin' though despite that, er, risk."


Kasyr is surrounded by degenerates. Which is probably why Satoshi isn't here. With a shrug, and a very drawn out shrug, the vampire simply continues, " Hence our little..celebration. It gave the wizard his necessary release. Et we don't really have to see them again in the morning."...And about than the Revenant pretty much regrets saying anything, since now he feels dirty. At least the person slowly creeping up on him will likely provide some sort of diversion. The empath can only hope, anyways.


Ithen slips behind a rock large enough to hide his short, slender build. A shiver washes over the dark furred feline to raise the hairs. He was close enough and the passive magic radiating from the direction of the group flowed and fed him. The strong sense of loss began to subside, but it wasn't enough. Ithen's eyes almost seemed to glow with a fever as he waited. What little patience was left wouldn't hold long.


Ilydia like the others, Ilydia had already noticed the entity though for slightly different reasons. Still, she did not find the distraction worth her time and thus she ignored it. Still, she could tell she wasn't the only one who wanted to go through that process. She did remember the manacles fondly though.


Kirien quirked a brow. Celebration? "Is that what it was? Hm." He'd cast a brief glance to Svilfon. "He's felt off all day. The hell did you do to him?" There might be a smirk on the empath's lips though. That rock wasn't doing anything to help hide the feline in any way - he'd have been wiser to use illusionary magic, except Kirien would probably have picked up on that as well, perceptive little bastard he was. Huffing out a breath, he shoved Firenze when the red-tailed hawk nipped at his ear. "I wonder," he murmured, completely nonchalant but mildly amused, "how broken someone's body would be if you threw them over the edge of this chasm…"


Kasyr responds rather quickly at that particular query, rhetorical or not. "Depends on the person, et whether they land on one of the lower ledges. I've hurled Mahri once or twice of this gorge, et she's still alive. ...Good times, that. Er, et in my defense, it was not what -I- did to him. Though, you'll find that out when it's your turn, d'accord?|


Ilydia almost seemed to giggle, soundlessly though. She too wondered what would happen if a certain kitty went flying off the cliff though she had more curious thoughts on what would happen if she ah... did some 'other' things to the possible new victim. Perhaps a bit of sucking would do fine.


Ilydia will just do a little bit of sucking though. She didn't want to take too much from him.


Kirien quirked a brow, curious. "How could you be that cruel to -Mahri-? She's lovely." And he missed her. The brief frown on his features had the empath turning away again, staring blindly over the precipice of that chasm. "We should experiment. See how much goes 'squish'."


Gyogan walks by the unorganized gathering, and decides to take a rest here and see if perhaps one of them would be interested in his trade.


Kirien added, as an afterthought. "I suppose I will~. Whoever is…-shoving- things into me." He stressed that word, amused.


Ithen almost has the shakes with trying to hold back. It was useless in the end. It always is, for it has never changed an out come before. The soul hunger now called all the shots, too bad it had no rhyme or reason save feeding. Ithen rises from the rock, his feline featured face just reaching over the top of it.Even the new arrive was barely taken note of. 'Come... come. Give me life.' The words where said over and over as a chant. Every movement, look, thought seemed to whisper the taunt.


Kasyr spies Gyogan and gives him a look like a butcher might give to a lamb being led to the slaughter. Still, whatever boundless malice the vampires currently feeling, it's mostly destined for the individual that's stalking them. "Use your art, and send them skyward, shall tu? Perhaps we'll see if they spontaneously develop the ability to fly." Kasyr stuffs his hands into his pockets at that, "Also, Mahri had it coming. Without a singular doubt."


Kirien was currently quite happily sated by the earlier feeding and so only squinted briefly at the newcomer, deciding he couldn't be bothered when there were other, more interesting matters at hand. He looked to Kasyr and that brow raised further. "Way to give it all away. I was hopin' he'd pounce." Still, the terramancer would be doing just as suggested, subtly as usual; Ithen's only warning would be the low growl of the earth beneath his feet, which would then be punching upward as though it greatly desired to have him off its surface, with enough force to send the poor feline shooting a good ways into the sky. Kirien tapped a boot, humming softly, and waited for a 'squish'.


Ilydia played with her slave a little longer before glancing at the newcomers with hungry eyes. She wanted them, she wanted to take them inside of her so badly. Still, she tried to control herself as best as she could. After all, she was sure the others would want to have some fun too.


Gyogan shudders slightly at a look someone gave him, yet he keeps his composure. A cautious eye is kept on the person, though...


Kasyr said to Gyogan, "You're still here?"


Gyogan said to Kasyr, "Is there some reason I shouldn't be? I had hoped to offer my trade..."


Kirien said to Gyogan, "D'you sell shinies?"


Kirien suddenly seemed interested.


Gyogan said to Kirien, "No, sir, I sell.... entertainment, so to speak."


Kirien said to Gyogan, "...Oh."


Kirien scrutinised the human as though he could actually see.


Kirien said to Gyogan, "You feel pretty enough. D'you dance?"


Kasyr despite the fact that he's waiting to get suckerpunched by a feline, is scrutinizing Gyogan too.


Ilydia pouted as Kirien took her prey. She wanted to have him for the night. Then again, perhaps she didn't want him that badly. After all, there was the other delight that was just coming towards them. She licked her lips greedily as she slid out her chains from underneath her cloak.


Ithen , being a serval based feline, had very acute hearing. He could even feel vibrations on occasion. It was more the shift of magic surrounding one in particular that gave the most noted warning. Even so he had only a second warning, heard rumbling in the ground beneath, before the earth punched upwards. Ithen's rolling dodge wasn't quite fast enough to save him, but smacked his hind legs causing the roll to be more of a cartwheel. The half tail spins quick like a bladed fan to right Ithen and bring him around to land on padded paw like hands and feet. The magic was flowing stronger now and his craving grew with it like a dry mouthed person only allowed a swallow of water. Ithen is still for less than a second before becoming a black blur. Small rocks begin to fling at the group and still that chant was spoken, never wavering or failing.


Kasyr doesn't feel Ithens empathic imprint soar off into the sky and is thus coaxed into redirecting his attention back towards the interloper. With a sinister hissing noise, the tattoos' upon the Revenants arms surge from their fleshy moors- a sickly combination of blood and ink surging to combine into the shape of an obsidian Katana. From there, the vampire simply plunges the caustic blade straight into the stone of the precarious bridge they were standing on- paying very little heed to the stones protest as the dark energy which leaked from this particular guise of Gospel neatly devoured the stone directly in contact with it. Channeling some of the magical energy that resided in his body within his blade, the vampire simply condenses a peculiar combination of air and energy around the contour of his weapon, before he simply flicks Gospel forward- the action coaxing the captured energy to surge forth in the wake of the swords swing and carve a neat trench down the middle of the bridge. Three purposes would be served by this action, one being to weaken the bridge and provide the attacker with a reason to cease his assault, a second being to divert those oncoming rocks with the creation of condensed air and energy..and the third being to potentially cleave the aggressor in half. ...Unforunately, that doesn't do much about the rocks that had -already- been flung- seeing as the vampire still earns himself a bruise on his forehead. Little blighter.


Kirien was not exactly pleased about the lack of flying feline, feeling him still planted firmly on the ground, and puffed his cheeks a little in response. Still, he wasn't moving to rectify this - or, well, was he? The empath remained quite stationary at the edge of that dangerous overlook; even as small rocks flew out of nowhere, directed to him, he did not attempt escape, struck at various points on his upper body. Instead of being knocked off to one side to tumble over the edge of that cliff after making contact, however, the stones seemed to…stick to Kirien, morphing and twisting, fusing partially to his body and clothing. Thin, jagged spines of stone carved up from his arms but he made no attempt to attack further as Kasyr was doing a good enough job of that. He'd be quite ready to defend himself if need be. Flinging rocks at a terramancer was perhaps not the wisest of ideas.


Ithen froze directly in the path of the magic created attack... waiting. No more rocks flew through the air. Ten yards from the feline the attack seemed to condense then loose its definition until it just ceased to exist at the point of coming into contact with him. Such a powerful surge sent a pleasent ripple across the remainder of his soul all ending where there was a hole, closing it a hair width more. Yes... more. As the weakening of the rock bridge is seen a sliver of fear and rage flash through him. Ithen would not be denied. Once more he became a black streak moving towards the bridge... towards the source of the magic.


Kasyr said, "Kirien. The bridge. Drop it."


Kirien said to Kasyr, "What?"


Kasyr is familiar with anti-magic and whilst it does not particularily concern him, he is still unsure of the exact details of what is afflicting the rather desperate feline. It would not do, after all, to precipitate some unknown factor when not properly prepared. And so, the vampire simply hops back, the faint crackle of energy running up along his arm as the katana is drawn back, than swung towards the midst of the bridge. It's about this point where the problems begin for Ithen, really- as that seemingly inconsequential ionization of some of the hybrids flesh was done to activate a particular ability of the Kensais. Specifically, instead of his blade impacting into the bridge and making a simple clean cut, there is a rather noteable explosion of kinetic force which turns the portion of the bridge it meets into a veritable deluge of earthen shrapnel, the likes of which carries on for a few moments- quite likely hindering Ithens advance. Not skipping a beat, the vampire turns and begins to jog towards 'his' end of the bridge. "Kirien. Bridge. Drop it. We're leaving."


Kirien appeared somewhat bemused by all this, squinting curiously at Ithen and his lack of dismemberment or being rent utterly in two by Gospel's dissonant blast wave; but he'd do as told. There'd be no warning this time - the bridge would be there one moment and then gone the next, collapsing underfoot in a tremendous roar of shattering stones, many of which would not fall first, but be cast with great force in the feline's direction. Some would be mere boulders, ready to crush with all the might earth bore; others would be rather more vicious, imploding suddenly in midair to send a barrage of sharpened, stony missiles Ithen's way, apparently intent on impalement should there be a certain lack of squashing. Kirien followed Kasyr, the bridge caving in his wake, his tail a flicker of russet movement behind him.


Oweorcyn didn't expect to find such a gathering on a wilderness road. The agent stops in his tracks, surveying the goings on with interest. Squinting, the gnome is still not used to the sun, and probably won't ever be. He can still make out a battle taking place, small as it may be. Ow watches quietly, trying to discern whether it is something to take official note of.


Ithen 's chant is interrupted for the first time since it began by a high pitched chirp filled with a sad rage of denial. A force of energy not created or manipulated by magic flattened Ithens fur flat and tossed him backwards head over tail. He landed in a controlled roll. Bruised and battered, Ithen was slower to gain his feet once more and raised his face to see rocks of all size coming at him in a dust shrouded wall. More...more. The drive of hunger would not let him since the hunt when the source was so very near. The chant started up once more as Ithen leaps high into the air and lands on one of the large rocks. Smaller, sharp rocks zipped by and cut fur and flesh alike sometimes even burrowing under skin. Another leap was taken just as leathery pads press against rough stone. Each leap bringing Ithan closer. Unheeding the many wounds which where being inflicted upon his body.


Kasyr is rather amused at Ithens forward travel because he's about to reach the problematic part of his escapade. For, whilst his particular escapade certainly had lent him a perch- and than another...the time he had spent waiting for this projectile was time spent widening the gap between himself and the other side. Invariably more space was going to be created than gained through this method. Moreover, "Kirien. Drop those stones into the ravine. He can sort himself out- one way or the other." Moreover, the Revenants a bastard.


Kirien :: Ithen would find each rock beneath his feet crumbling even as he attempted to cross to the other side of that great ravine, where Revenant and fledgling were racing closer towards. They gained ground where he lost it, the earth beneath their feet still stable and only beginning to break apart behind the terramancer working as he ran. Elethial, the amber-bladed sentient weapon normally sheathed at Kirien's hip, was drawn in a sibilant scream of song and the empath spun about, bridge roaring and shaking beneath him as his lips parted to breathe out a whisper of a call; the blade in his hands reacted explosively and suddenly, releasing a massive burst of concentrated air that'd hit the feline like a brick wall if he got in the way of its dissonant blast. The rock underfoot would begin to fall at a faster rate throughout this, dragged downward by something other than natural gravity - Kirien wanted it out of the way, out from under Ithen's feet, to allow him a long, long fall into that abyssal chasm.


Oweorcyn deems the fight to be of no significance and therefore a waste of his time. The gnome turns heel and walks back the way he came.


Ithen sences another manipulation of magic, but too far from the source to feed from it. So close... then the rocks loose their forward momentum and begin to fall. A flicker of the eyes judge the distance still left and even in such a deep hunger, Ithen knows the odds are bad for jumping to it, but the choice is made for him as the rock he stands on breaks apart. Streached out with finger tips leading and toes trailing the feline flexes his claws out. The sharp points brake off but the base catches the rock of the side of the chasim. Those intense eyes looked at an angle at the rock as if seeing through it to where the two where running away. Rocks, large and small begin to rain down on Ithen more intensely as those of the bridge above is added. Even as deep into the hunger, Ithen knew death was close if actions not taken quickly. Dodging the deadly sized stones he climbs while eyes scan ahead. There. A fissure just large enough for Ithan to squeeze into and escape the barage of rock. Once a rock as big as his head smashed his shoulder, the resulting crack of chipped bone lost in the smack of rock bounching of rock. Ithan lost his hold and fell a few yards before catching himself against the cliff once more. After that he was more careful to watch the falling rocks. The pain of shoulder and numerious cuts, bruises and lodged slivers of rock not yet registering through the hunger. Only when Ithan reaches the fissure does he stop. Though this seemed to take a greater tool than anything so far, so great was the drive to feed.


Kasyr contemplates ruining the felines day, than simply shrugs and decides against it. Taking a moment to take a bottle of whiskey out from his pack, he leaves it in his wake- whistling cheerfully, "Let's be off, shall we? I do believe our stalwart companion es not going to be following."


Kirien was not as nice as Kasyr. He could feel Ithen's movements, the way he still clung on to the rock in determination and tried to climb, and attempted to squeeze himself into that fissure to escape falling boulders and bridge parts. The feline would probably notice the way the stone began to shrink around him, possibly in attempt to crush him; or maybe it would crumble into dust around his fingers, dislodging his hold on the cliffside. Whatever his fate, whether he fell or managed to survive, Kirien turned to follow Kasyr with a derisive huff, quietly sheathing Elethial.






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