RP:The Matron Returns

House Tyr' Anea

Vilrath ...The long empty house is silent as a grave. Nothing moves, dust covers everything, and spiderwebs drape down from the vaulted ceiling. Suddenly, a small pinpoint of light appears in the air, about six feet from the marble floor and slowly expands to form a large glowing oval hanging in the air. The surface riples like waves on the still surface of a pond for a few minutes before a body comes tumbling through and cumbles face down on the thick dust covering the floor. A child shaped bundle is straped to the beings back and cries begin to emit from it, the first sound heard for over a year in the room. The ebony hand of the drowess twitches and she struggles to get onto her hands and knee's, but she's too weak and stumps back to the ground. The cries come louder and she makes another effort to rise again. Making it to her knee's the drowess lets loose a stream of profanities that would make a demon blush as she pushes long, tangled white hair from her face and red eyes take in the condition of the room. Reaching back she caresses the childs cheek and orders her to stop her cries. At once the throne room is filled with silence as the former matron of House Tyr' Anea makes it to her feet. Turning to face the stairs to her throne a sneer comes to her full crimson lips and she whispers, "I have returned....."

Distraite, having lost all direction after the Matron’s disappearance, had become a shell of herself. The muscles in her arms had shriveled to mere twigs and her once snug armor hung loosely over her body; loud clangs echoed through the empty house. She had stayed away all this time, despair at once foreign and comfortable, had taken root in her heart. Perhaps it was desperation, a desire to die, or maybe just a growing madness that had gripped her, but it had been days, perhaps over a week ago, that the Death Knight had wandered her way back to the house. Slow steps had taken her to the temple that lie just beneath the house; the place was at one comforting and depressing- even for the Drowess. Distraite knew it was death she sought; without the Matron, she had no reason to exist, no interest in plaguing anyone’s lives with her scythe. The silence of the house was shattered as the cries of a child pierced the Drowess’ ears. Snarling at the harsh interruption, Distraite stumbles up the stairs, tripping over the top step as she enters into the main foyer of the house. Her eyes widen. Could it be? The woman in front of her, though tattered, was too familiar to be real. “M-m-Matron?” The word barely escaped her lips before she collapsed on the floor, exhaustion and relief washing through her.

Vilrath spins on her toe at the sound of her old weapons master. Disbelief moves across her otherwordly features for a second as she moves to stand over Distraite and she bends over to quickly place her hand on the womans head. The Matron had taken in the state of her emaciated body and she quickly sent healing into the young drowess. Straightening up she reaches up to grip the straps holding the bundle to her back and gently lifted the child off her back and places her to sit on the floor by her feet. The once regal matron no longer is dressed in her finery, but her lush, filled out form is barely covered in what could loosely be called what was once a dress and as she drops to one knee soft ebony flesh is exposed for any to see. Her hand moves towards Distraite and using her forefinger she places it under the drowess' chin and lifts her head up so she may look into her eyes. "I see you waited for my return...my sweet." she says sofly, true affection coloring her voice.

Distraite lies hard on the floor, the exhaustion of the past year, and the shock from the moments just past: the sight of the Matron, alive and returned was nearly too much for the proud Drowess. Quick, shallow breathes escape Distraite’s ebon lips, cracked from lack of moisture. The Death Knight hardly registers the bundle at the Matron’s feet; barely even believing that the Matron stands in front of her, let alone carrying a parcel. The drowess doesn’t fight the lifting of her head; in fact, she doubts she could have done it herself. A small sob nearly escapes Distraite’s throat, but she catches it in time: she didn’t want to disappoint the Matron so soon. Barely above a whisper, the Captain says, “I- I never dreamed that you would be returned to me.”

Sophie hurries to kneel before the matron, pressing her forehead to the floor. "Matron I feared you were dead. I am so glad to see you have returned." The slave hesitates nervously "You should know matrion, that I am now the property of the human named Cormac."

Daemora moved behind the Matron, following her dutifully--her mirror-like black mask concealing her features for the moment. Interest held the former priestess' attention as she eases just into the room. Quite the scene played out before her. She decides to remain silent for the time being, but her runed hand moves to her mask and in a blink, it vanishes. She eyes Distraite, then the returned matron, immediately recognizing her as a high priestess. Shamefully houseless, and out of favor with Astrala as far as she was concerned. Beyond the dwellings of her mind, she is motionless. She does nothing yet. She wonders if she was noticed. It felt good to be home.

Vilrath 's head snaps to the side as her gaze takes in her former slave. Without thinking she lashes out with a closed fist and catches her now former Toy hard on the cheek. Anger flashes through her body, red hot and looking for a release and it found it in her action and now her words, "You will be mine again never fear. Make yourself useful for a change and find Distraite something to drink and eat before I take you downstairs and slit your wrists on the alter there." Moving her brightly glowing red eyes back to her weapons master she places a hand on the womans head and caresses back her hair and sends even more healing into her. "Of course I have returned to you my sweet and all will be as it was again, but......better." The Priestess back stiffens as she senses another in the room, one she doesn't know and she turns her head enough that she can take in the new drowess. "And who in the Abyss are you?" she says in a low and very dangrous tone.

Distraite’s eyes dart towards Sophie, her eyes softening for a moment at the sight of her friend. However, the glance is fleeting; the Captain was far more concerned with the return of the Matron. Propping herself up onto her elbows, the Death Knight reaches up with her right hand to grasp the Matron’s, relishing in the tangibility of the woman she served and undoubtedly loved. Distraite sighs as she feels the energy coursing through her body; her muscles twitching with the new found verve of magic. A smile spreads slowly across her face, the lip-shaped scar smiles with her. “Better,” Distraite sighs. At the sudden shift in the Matron’s posture, the Drowess curses herself for not noticing the shift in energies in the room. Snarling and scrambling to her feet, the Weapon’s Master reaches for the scythe still attached to her back, even after the long year. Her fingers seem to reawaken as they play over the length of the shaft, itching to find their old and tell-tale holds. A second or so, and Distraite is upon the other Drowess, her eyes glowing their old electric green (with of course, the tinge of blue to her right eye). “I have the mind to kill you here and now. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

Sophie yelps in pain as she is struck, then hurries to fetch Distrate a glass of cool water, startled when she returns to see her still weak friend attacking The house mage,"Please Matron, If you recall, you sold me to my beloved Gylan, he set me free, and I was free for over a year, before being captures and enslaved by Cormac.I am legally his property. "

Daemora almost grinned. The hostility, the wariness. The constant worry that you would be stabbed in the back. And while this felt good, hopes were not lifted. "Why must I give reason for my life? Meaning and purpose abandoned me just as the Goddess. As for who I am--I am no one. I was Daemora, First Daughter of House Merzet, Third House of Tabinzir. But that was a very, very long time ago." Her tone managed to drift almost into a wishful sort as she remembered the good ol' days--something she hadn't done in a while. She eyed Distraite carefully as she spoke her next few words. "Perhaps I am here to find meaning, or simply to be slain as a returned outcast. But for the moment, I am interested in a matron that stinks of the Abyss itself, and the odd activity in such an old, abandoned house."

Vilrath sneers at the unknown drowess' speech about her past and looks at her old slave giving a small nod towards the quiet child sitting on the floor watching the procedings with interest. "Toy, take Zress over there to the lounge and watch her." Unconcerned with the procedings in the room she makes her way over to the wall where a large chest rests; she drops to her kneees once again, her posture spoke volumes of a new, stronger confidence, power and above all, faith in her Goddess. Passing her hand over the box, runes come to life in the bright glow for just a minute before the lid opens. A deep sigh travels through the High Priestess' body as she reaches in and pulls out her snake-headed whip. Laying on the floor next to her she then removes a sleeveless, velvet gown of midnight color and gracefully rises to her feet to remove the rags barely covering her lush figure. Lifting the soft fabric over her head she revels in the feeling that dances across her flesh as it slides down to encase her in its folds. Picking up her symbol of her station she glides over the floor to stand in front of Distraite and the new drowess. Eyeing her up and down she places a hand on the woman's cheek in a light caress and asks, "And should I spare your life?"

Distraite’s upper lip curls in irritation; a new Drowess in the house was –not- what she wanted, not now and not ever. Pressing the edge of her scythe’s blade to the stranger’s throat, the Death Knight snarls with impatience at the cryptic answer she received. “I think,” Distriate says, her voice metallic from months of lack of use, “That I’ll just kill you now.” Pulling the scythe back, the drowess meant to cut the intruder to size but finds herself.. distracted. Distraite’s eyes flit to the Matron, now kneeling in front of the chest. Flicking her eyes back to the stranger, the Captain issues a guttural warning before turning her gaze back to the Matron. A smile spreads across Distraite’s face at the sight of the whip- the old days were definitely coming back. And so was the old Matron. The Drowess chokes hard as the Matron removes her tattered clothing and replaces it with the familiar and much preferred old ones. Something stirred deep inside Distraite. Yes, she was coming back to life too. Satisfied, she turns back to the stranger, her eyes narrowed in a silent threat, ears laid flat against her skull. As the Matron comes between the two, Distraite is forced to lower her weapon; though finds it is not in vain. Smiling, the Weapon’s Master can only relish in the future she knew the Matron was going to bring about.

Daemora smiles softly, noting the manner in which Distraite revards the matron. She turns her head listlessly to the side. "That is up to you regardless. But, perhaps I can be of some use?" Daemora eyes the captain. "Quick to the draw... you must please your Matron much." The caress almost caught Daemora off guard, but composure is maintained. "What does the Goddess want? She des not answer my prayers...."

~To Be Continued~

• Yes, I am aware that Distraite is technically a retired character; however, for the sake of the rp, the player behind Distraite rp'd her still being present in the lands. Beware, the Death Knight has returned.