RP:The Lady Returns
Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc
Summary: Larewen returns after vanishing for two months to find morale among her men lacking. Some have turned coats and others have begun to behave like fools, even catcalling Kanna, who only seeks to perform. Joan and Aerlithe are among those present to witness the foolery and together, the two kill two House Dragana men. Artia, grateful for the Lady's return, strings the dead guards up as a warning to those that failed their House.
Vailkrin City Road
An odd silence had settled over Vailkrin in the absence of Lady Larewen Dragana. With their leader gone, Dragana forces were pushed back from the square until, ultimately, they held only the tavern and the front gate. Their devotion wavered. Without their mistress, what was the point? Some deserted, some willingly went to support the Houses of Vailkrin against which war had been waged. Needless to say, the civil war in the City of the Damned was nearing its end. The Houses could see a clear victory ahead and it wouldn’t be a far cry for some to be planning a direct march on the abandoned manse in the woods. It was time for peace again… or so the Houses would be led to believe.
In the distance, an ebon steed approached, verdant flames curling upward from its hide. Upon it sat a cloaked figure, hood drawn law over features that were, from what could be seen, heavily scarred. Nonetheless, the colors were all too familiar and a pair of guards loitering outside the tavern—drunk, for their saw the end of the war coming and the abandonment of their Lady all to well—looked up. One dropped the bottle he was hoisting to his mouth and elbowed the other sharply. The cloaked figure slowed to a stop, remaining seated as her mismatched gaze swept over the road. People milled about; the tension was no longer palpable. The city was almost at peace and this, this coaxed to the figure’s lips a cold, bitter smile. Raising her hands—the right scarred and the left void of flesh—the figure removed her hood and peered down at the two drunken soldiers. “You no longer wear my colors with pride,” she hissed and the venom that laced her voice was enough to straighten their backs. “I failed you. Pull yourselves together; you’ll be given that chance.” As the words left her lips, the two ducked back into the establishment. Undoubtedly it was to warn the others of her return. Afterwards, she studied those present.
Joan had her advertisement for her new shop tucked under one arm, the other carried a plain normal hammer with a few small nails held in her curled palm, she’d blink as Larewen rode into view, she’d study the other for a moment before those vested shoulders rolled up into a careless shrug, the vampire business owner had only just returned from a good solid decade away over seas. She was not aware of the political jockeying that happen while she was away. Not being able to help overhearing what was said, Joan would tuck the hammer into a loose hanging pouch. She’d rub at the side of her nose as she watched the interaction between the lady and her lackluster soldiers. Her lips would purse as she stood close to the tavern’s entrance as the soldiers hurried inside.
Aerlithe , rather than use the road, eagerly moved toward the square from the direction of the forest using buildings. Even then, the witch wasn't running, opting instead to allow the spider-leg like shadowy appendages to carry her along to the destination. Once there, she did wait, eagerly anticipating the surge of magic detected, until Larewen has reappeared. At this, the cloak-clad woman did leap down, the shadows morphing to resemble wings that allowed an almost graceful landing, save a single stumble. While she pretended this hadn't happened, Aerlithe did then look toward the horse and rider, nothing said while she waited to be acknowledged.
Kanna sat just outside of the tavern on that day, doing what she did best: playing music to elicit sympathetic coin tosses her way. At her feet, a russet furred wolf lay with its eyes closed, seemingly resting. Any times that the inebriated guards would approach the human, its head would snap to attention and an impatient snort would resound just under the strums of Kanna's guitar. Seeing the embers fall from the elemental creature's nostrils was enough warning for any vampires looking at her like a snack. At the window of the tavern, two vampires that seemed halfway through donning their uniforms leaned on each other. Both were in tears, clearly having drunk past their limits, as Kanna continued singing. "I don't know if I'm in love with you or the idea of loving you, it's unclear." Just a short stop from her and her protector was a small woven basket on a stool, inside which lay a surprisingly low amount of copper pieces and a single silver coin. Cornflower eyes stayed fixated on the hooded figure as it approached the tavern, more out of curiosity than caution. Larewen spoke, and Kanna seemed to remember something. A public execution, being forced into a quarantine with a silent, gothic beauty who paid the small human no mind at the time. Surely, this could not be the same one, could it? The cold eyes fixated on the bardess and Kanna found herself immobilized, if only for a second. A sour note broke the melody, and Kanna quickly looked away at the other woman putting away some tool. "I mean I used to be so sure, but I might just be immature." She continued to sing.
Larewen paid mind first to Kanna, if only because the bard’s music was the first thing to assault her ears. Nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of the human and savoring the warmth that danced beneath Kanna’s skin. Hunger flashed in mismatched eyes, but the necromancer did not act on it. Instead, her skeletal hand raised upward, fingers twisting and folding over one another as she conjured a shadow portal over the basket. From it, a handful of gold rained down. A kind gesture and perhaps an acknowledgment that, no matter how she might have seemed at the execution, Kanna had been noticed—even if it was for the fact that she was food. Joan grabbed Larewen’s attention soon after for two reasons: her hair reminded the necromancer of her aunt, whose time was better spent elsewhere. And second, Larewen was wary. Her lips twisted into a sneer as she addressed the innocent vampire, perhaps under the assumption that what she meant to attach to the board was propaganda of a sort (though she was hugely wrong, considering it was just an advertisement). “You,” she called out, her voice lacking emotion. “Who are you?” She’d never seen Joan before. And then, as if a punctuation to Larewen’s query, Aerlithe alighted before them and left the necromancer puzzled for a moment. “Child,” she said, though the syllable could easily have been an insult, it was meant as a greeting.
Joan arches one brow upwards as she was addressed in such a brisk manner. She’d thumb at herself as she shifted the rolled up advertisement from the crook of her elbow towards her now free hand, lightly patting it in her other open palm. “Me? I’m just a returning business woman. Been away at sea for a good decade. Traveling about to sow my wild oats. I just built and opened a shop just outside of town.” Her chin would jerk back towards the direction the Lady rode in from. “As for who I am, I’m a Blackheart, from one of the lesser houses. Joan is my name, who might you be lady?!” Joan would turn to watch the gold coins rain down into the human’s basket, a low whistle of surprise let loose before she’d give a polite nod of her head to the bard and her wolfie. Those voided light violet eyes move to track the witch as she made her stumble like landing. A snort of laughter followed.
Aerlithe currently was still focused on Larewen, and with the single word of greeting, there was a prompt curtsey of respect. The gesture, followed with, "Mother," is then ceased in due course, as now her head turns, looking first toward Kanna now that the sound of her melody had at last caught the attention of the previously focused individual. Following the example shown, there was then a handful of coins fetched from her own bag, each given to an arachnid crafted from the darkness. As they then scurry on their path, Aerlithe now glances to Joan, the black, vein-like lines which cross her face and arms visible, as she considers attacking the one who'd seemingly laughed at her.
Kanna 's eyes nearly rounded into teacup saucers at the sight of the normally empty basket being filled. It distracted her so that she had to repeat the same four chords before being able to sing her next verse. "Miss Melody!!" Kanna's nose wrinkled a bit at the catcall. "I'll pay you too if you let me drink youuu!" One of the drunkards at the window called with a sob. "I don't know if I'm in love either! How can we love while the Dragana fight is going so awfully?!" The other howled, passing a hand over his pallid face. The arrival of their leader was wasted on these lower guards in this state. Kanna looked over at the necromancer and gave a wide smile, completely oblivious to the signs of being considered a meal. "Thank you kindly, miss!" The arrival of Aerlithe had been distracted by Larewen's gesture, but the greeting of 'mother' made Kanna's curiosity pique again. 'Curious, vampires have actual children? Though they do not appear to be related... Is this some vampire language I've yet to read about?' As she thought this, her russet wolf dashed forward, playfully slamming paws down around the dark arachnids. The spiders effortlessly weaved around his paws to deposit the coins. The procession and Amante's attempts to disrupt it made Kanna giggle. "And thank you kindly!" She looked back over at the violet-haired vampire when she laughed. Having missed the stumble, she tilted her head slightly, wondering what was so funny.
Artia had just returned from the beach with Daermon, another vampire part of Larewen's coven, as well her longest and most closest friend. She has sensed something was coming and urged for them to return, something dark yet familiar was coming. The witchy vampire had to return to see what it was, searching all over the dead city till she felt the strong pull again. Leading Artia here, I front of the hanging corpse where many have fallen to their death to help her grieving over her daughter's death. Cyan blue eyes with gold freckles search the crowd for a sign of what called to her. Seeing two faces she did not recognize, seeing Kanna she smiled with a nod of her head. Yet when her eyes caught sight of her mother, she froze. If her dead heart could beat she swore it would had frozen in time. It been so long since she has seen this woman, the one that sired her. The one that had become her mother in her eyes, moving up to her. With a curtsey, and a deep bow of her head, “Mother, you have been missed.”
Larewen fell into a brief silence, wracking her brain for where she might have heard mention of House Blackheart. Yes, definitely a lesser if it wasn’t considered among the nobility. Her nose wrinkled slightly, lip twitching at Joan’s failure to recognize her. In fact, the gesture almost comes as an affront to the elf. “Lady Larewen Dragana, Master of House Dragana,” came the necromancer’s reply, followed quickly with, “Aerlithe!” The woman’s first impression of the shadow spiders is that the crazed witch meant to harm Kanna and, considering the ill-fated Halloween bash, the necromancer is wary. However, when coins are dropped and spiders disperse, the woman eased—only to bristle at the drunken words of one of her soldiers. A low growl rumbled in the depths of her throat and, were it not for the wards that protected the Hanging Corpse, Larewen might have stepped inside to deal with the whiny sod. Instead, she inclined her chin in Kanna’s direction, unaware of her thoughts. This motion was followed with a dip of her head toward Aerlithe, and then a pointed glance at the tavern. “Deal with them.” She was about to add to that command, likely something unpleasant, when Artia arrived and approached her. That cold stare focused on the necrobotanist, studying her for a moment and recognize the rage, the pain, the grief within the other’s body. It was one Larewen knew too well, and she offered Artia the best she could manage: a sympathetic attempt at a half-smile. “And there are things I have missed,” she replied, a gnawing, knowing ache forming in her chest. Larewen knew firsthand the grief of losing a child. Her gaze snapped back to Aerlithe, “And then when you’ve completed that, I will need your help with another task.”
Joan cants her head to one side, loose amethyst hair move with the sight cant. Voided eyes flicker to study the newcomer before Joan would excuse herself from the conversation, her hand moving to withdraw that hammer she had placed in the loose open pouch, with a quick pull and then flip of her wrist the business woman sent the hammer flying towards the nearest drunken vampire’s head. No emotion shown while she then followed after, using her rolled up flier to beat Around the head and shoulders. “Behave! Honestly, we are more civilized then that. Don’t catcall a poor honest bard.” She’d huff as her flier gets crumpled up muttering under her breath about getting another.
Aerlithe reacts to Larewen's stern uttering of her name by jumping slightly, head snapped back to focus upon the Elder Vampyre, believing incorrectly her intended actions had been predicted. When nothing further is said, proving the reaction pointless, the child now does address her Mother, saying, "Yes, Mother. I shall return as soon as the fun is finished," a deranged grin now making itself known with the chance to inflict harm. While now on her way to carry that task out, Aerlithe does greet Artia with the same respect for their parent, and after that, does cover her arms with shadow, ending with talon-like fingers. There'd then be more shadows used, this time only to ensure nobody could see exactly what she got up to.. just to protect those who were still innocent.
Kanna had just taken notice of the witch that had stopped walking to look at Larewen when the whoosh of something flying past her and a series of slurred curses rung out from behind. The freckled girl ceased playing and rose from the wooden crate she had been perched on, the neck of the guitar clasped between two nervous, sandy skin. "O-oh-- I-it's-- it's okay, really! They're not a bother!" Kanna shut one eye in sympathy as the victim of Joan's attack tried to swat the paper away, only to lose his footing and fall under the window and out of sight. The other guard stumbled over his comrade's body, swinging an arm far too slowly for it to be of any threat to anyone. When she noticed the other woman approaching with murderous intent, her stutter only became worse. "Th-th-they're n-not a threat, I-I think--" She started to protest, interrupted by the sound of the other drunken guard's scream. The poor bardess remained pigeon-toed, guitar neck held tight as some sort of nervous comfort. "Ah..."
Artia eyes the other female who Larewen gave orders too, did she over hear her call Larewen mother as well? But she did she the sympathetic half smile from Larewen, it was kind of her to do such. “I have destroyed any being or creature that has spoke ill of us, mother. Daermon has helped in clean up, and we have kept fear in those we could. I’ve done what I could, with my loss I apologize for not doing more. I hope you can forgive me, or let me prove to you again that I am worth your shared blood. I Artia, your apothecary swear to never let you down.” She would not dare remove herself from the curtsey, and if she was allowed her eyes would drift to Joan who killed a drunk vampire, a wicked grin spread across her ruby lips. Another glance towards were Kanna was, making sure no other vampire was trying to mess with this one. The other one that called Larewen mother was in return greeted as well, she knew she would need to seek these two ladies out and get to know them since it seemed they were part of the coven maybe too? Hearing Kanna words she wanted to calm her, only to whisper a spell that would cast Artia words as once more a whisper to Kanna ears. ‘Kanna, introduce yourself. Those that are soon dead were a threat. You are safe.’
Larewen inhaled sharply, watching as the two drunk guards were swiftly taken care of. It wouldn’t be until they were done and dealt with that the necromancer would summon Aerlithe back to her side. Joan piqued the necromancer’s curiosity and a mental note was made to find her another time and speak with her. Kanna, on the other hand, was met with a cold stare. “Their behavior is not befitting of those that bear my name,” she replied matter-of-factly. To Artia, she spoke next, “I have things to take care of back at the manor and morale to boost once more. I would appreciate your aid in that. It saddens me to hear of Eva’s passing, but there is little lingering on that can do now. Come to me, when next chance you get and bring Daermon with you. I suppose I might owe you both some semblance of apology.”
Joan passes close by the bard, a apologetic smile is flashed towards her as the vampire business woman stepped near the window, as she bent towards the window Joan would use her now battered flier to shake towards the quickly sobering solider she had berated. “Now look what your thoughtless actions have caused! One dead friend, and who knows what else is gonna happen.” Her tone matter of fact as she holds her hand out as she nods towards her hammer that crushed his friend’s skull. “I need that back, I got fliers to hang.”
Kanna looked around for the voice. It had sounded as though it came from right next to her, yet it did not match Joan's nor Aerlithe's voice, and Artia remained in her curtsy at least a few paces away. Somehow, the words calmed her down, despite the poor drunken men being disposed of just nearby. "Ah... Miss... Blackheart?" A question rather, as she was unsure if that was the right way to address the bold woman. "A-and Miss Aerlithe?" The pronunciation was just slightly off, as she tried to imitate what she had heard Larewen call out. Kanna tilted the guitar as to not let it touch the ground, and she bowed forward in thanks. "Thank you very much for defending me. I will not forget this kindness. And Lady Larewen, thank you very much for your patronage despite my being an outsider." Then, turning to Artia, she tilted her head in curiosity, the gruesome scene behind her forgotten. "You...we have met before, haven't we? I remember seeing you in Larket in the winter."
To be honest, Artia didn’t think Larewen owed her an apology but she would of course help in morale boost as that was part of the deal that caused Artia to be sired. Now, she would forever fulfill it as long as Larewen needed of her. Standing up, “I will, of course. When it is someone’s time. It is their time. Unless..” she paused, she would discuss that with Larewen another time. For now, there was much work to be done and Artia would do what ever told of her. “I shall be there soon, I will display these bodies so they all know not to tarnish such name again.” As kanna spoke she turned her head, offering a soft yet charming smile, “Oh yes, your badger and yourself helped deliver twins in an abandon house with I. Nice to see you again. Also mutual friends of Bastion.”
Aerlithe has heard the summons, and so makes sure to finish up with her task quickly, by elongating the shadows covering her fingers into a single spike that punctures her victim's heart. Now that the game was over, the blood-spattered woman now returns to where Larewen is, only a brief polite smile toward Kanna occurring.. even if the vitae was sure to be unsettling. Back to the elder, she only says, "Mother," again, this time in a questioning tone, awaiting the next task she was to complete.
Kanna brightens with the memory. "That's right! Please excuse me, it's been so long since then that I nearly forgot! We must have tea again soon!" The smile Aerlithe gave was only mildly disturbing for the bard, who gave a nervous sort of smile in return, mostly out of the thought that the blood splatter could have easily been her own. Her eyes trail over to Joan's flyer. "Ooh, that does sound good, doesn't it, boy?" The russet wolf that had rejoined her after playing with the shadow entities gave a single bark in response.
Larewen dipped her head to Kanna, a smirk cast in Joan’s direction. To Artia, the necromancer lifted her head approvingly. “Yes. Display them. Those that dare to wear Dragana should do so proudly and with no intention of sullying the name,” she agreed before she turned westward, gesturing for Aerlithe to follow. “It was a pleasure meeting you, ladies,” she says to both Kanna and Joan. To Artia, she offers a wave of her hand and then departed eastward.
Artia smiled joyfully, another excuse to rip someone apart. Deep inside she loved feeling splattered blood upon her flesh, to bathe in it even. With a nod to Larewen she turns upon her heel stalking the body that was to be displayed to not go against the name Dragana ever or abuse it. Thrusting her hands outwards, the black like fog with green shimmering particles inside it swirled out of herpalms at a quick speed. Like a snake it wrapped about the bodies. Making the bodies melt away into a pool of what looked like black saw dust, leaving only the head behind. Moving away to grab two large sticks, spiking the heads upon them. A full frontal display, and next she ripped out their fangs to show them being unworthy. https://www.hollowgame.com/wiki/RP:The_Child_Prophet:_A_Play