RP:When You Corner a Mouse, You'll Find a Lion

From HollowWiki

Part of the The Cenrilian Connection Arc



Graveyard Path, Vailkrin

Celiann had been left in a most precarious position, given the events of Vailkrin’s most violent gala as her former – and perhaps still current – house had been thrown into disarray with the death of Lady Alesha. House Ladaeth, the bladesingers, had stationed two brave warriors outside of the house but their bodies had slumped down and left alone. If one were brave enough to examine their bodies and have some knowledge of physiology, they might find themselves concluding that the men had severe brain damage. Perhaps an angry mouse had chewed away at their brains or an angry necromancer had rotted and decayed certain sections to nothingness, with the uncertainty of vampire regeneration being able to repair such extensive damage. Within the actual house itself, though, there are sounds of conflict and argument: the smashing of glass, the raised voices and the bright ripple of magical lights. Going in could be risky. Or it could be fun.


Satoshi might have been on business, trekking from the Black Library to Vailkrin's Castle, but it is difficult for the kit to ignore the pair of slumped forms outside House Ginavi. Her steps falter, Vailkrin's fogs drawing closer around her in a protective cloak as noise and light comes from within the building. "Hellfire..." So it's begun, has it? Despite her jokes to Kasyr that the nobles of the vampire houses spend all their time sitting on their tails and whining, they -are- capable of being raised into burning action at times. Satoshi's business goes out the window as she heaves a sigh. As a member of House Azakhaer, she can hardly keep walking, when there's such clear evidence of a disruption taking place inside the manor. With a determined stride, the magus approaches the front doors, no glance spared for the downed guards as she eases the door open. Whiskers stand rigid as Satoshi peers inside, the magic in the air palpable. Just what sort of fun is she walking into here..?


Celiann stands at the bottom of the staircase, her darkwood wand pointed at the ground but ready to flick up towards her apparent aggressor. “You have no right!” he shrieked wildly at her, swishing his wand in the most exaggerated of manners to cast red ripples of light in her direction: one grotesquely missing her and zooming beyond Satoshi’s head. Was it the imagination or did the bolt itself whisper the darkest of intentions and most violent possibilities? With a flick of the wand, Celiann had cast up a ward that looked like an inky black bubble, “Potenza ladro!” she cried to cast the defensive measure. The red light streaked towards her ward but barely had the strength to harm the necromancer once it passed through, as though it had been sapped of its power and magical strength via the bubble like ward. One streak, however, did manage to strike her leg. The scholar yelped and fell to her knee, flicking the wand swiftly before the painful spasms caused by the hex became too much to bear: “disintegrarsi!” she yelled, the wand pointed at the staircase. The wood at the top of the stairwell seemed to rapidly rot and decay away, allowing the aggressive vampire to fall through with a shriek of pain.


Satoshi's ears fold flat, evading the ripple of darkling light as it passes over her head. With obvious care, the cloaked magus slips through the door's opening and presses her back flat against its twin, a position that gives her a full view of the situation without intruding or interrupting. It is clear this is the House dispute long in coming after Celiann's kidnapping and torture, and Satoshi has no reason to interfere. Let the little necromancer channel her anger and confront those that betrayed her--it would be doing Vailkrin a favor, after all. This is Ginavi business, Satoshi does not have the right to stick her whiskers into the fight alongside Celiann. And so it is with an air so casual as to be obscene given the magical duel taking place, the magus crosses her arms, settles in, and watches the show, with just the faintest whisper of a melody in the air, should any other spells go astray in her direction. There is even a gleam of approval in Satoshi's eyes when Celiann rots away the staircase to drop her opponent through the floors. The mouse has more bite than the kit originally thought.


Celiann ’s bite is far more vicious than Satoshi knows, for she is hardly done with the fallen opponent. She limps up the stairs until she reaches the newly formed hole of rotted wood, “Y-Y-You,” she hissed so angrily, so venomously, “h-h-hurt m-me! We w-w-were f-family!” she snarled, bringing her hand up in a dramatic fashion so that her elbow was raised up to head level and her wrist pointing down at the hole; free hand also pointed in the same direction but with her fingers spread out as if she were weaving magic where she needed it to be. “All you c-c-care for is the m-m-m-m,” she struggles to stammer the word out and the frustration only makes her sound all the more angry, “m-mages circle! You c-c-cannot care for it wh-when you’re d-d-d-dead!” With a dramatic ‘thuuuum’ of magic, a number of pieces of the rotten wood find themselves flying into the other vampire, one landing directly in the heart. He howls with pain, even more so as Celiann turns her outstretched hand and appears to twist the rotten wood impaled in his heart. One vampire down, another to go, as she begins to gingerly cross what wood remained.


Satoshi barely restrains an impressed whistle at Celiann's ferocity. Whatever had happened to the little necromancer, it had transformed her from mouse to lion, and woe unto those that got in her path. Celiann's radiating anger is enough to keep Satoshi at bay, tailing the necromancer at a safe distance with a silent, padding tread. When Satoshi reaches the rotted hole that now serves as the grave of a Ginavi traitor, the magus peers down at him with an unreadable expression, giving a shake of her head before whispering, "Family should not betray family. You brought this storm upon yourselves." Betrayal is a sore point for Satoshi, she can understand--and even encourage--Celiann's hunt, and she'd happily leave the necromancer to it if Vailkrin responsibilities didn't require her to oversee the matter.


Celiann ’s hunt appears to diverge a little as she steps into other rooms, rooting around drawers and bookshelves for valuable scrolls, magical trinkets, artefacts and ancient tomes. The secrets of House Ginavi. She wanted them for herself now, because she was certain on making sure no one else would be around to have them. No other Ginavi would lay a hand upon those secrets. The scholar compiled items from one room onto the bed, making note to summon an undead servant to help haul it away with her. Though where to, she didn’t know: she was unsure how much longer she could impose upon Kasyr’s hospitality, especially after what she will finish today. It would be indecent of her to continue taking residence in the castle without paying much back to him, except for her organisational skills and love of paperwork. “What is this ruckus?!” roars a masculine voice, causing Celiann to dip out of the room she was in and look ahead towards the imposing figure. One could assume he might be the next successor for the mage’s circle hierarchy of this House. “D-Decembrius,” she peeped out, the name said fearfully. Evidently, this Decembrius was a powerful mage of the House, powerful enough to even cow the mousy Celiann in the middle of her murderous rampage. “I a-a-am taking wh-what is m-m-mine,” she told him with a hint of indignation, the kind that was inherent to the nobility. “S-Stand a-a-aside,” she bade him, pushing up her silver rimmed glasses to see if he’d move. A long pause occurred, before he began to laugh at Celiann’s audacity! How foolish she must have been! To think he’d really stand aside for her. “Sister,” his voice was silky, “don’t be a fool.” Yet Celiann’s eyes had not been upon his imposing six foot something figure, they had been settled upon the chain holding up a most impressive glass chandelier. “M-M-Move or d-d-d-die,” she threatened, yet it sounded meek coming from her. “You know I can kill you,” he said it calmly, as though it were a matter of fact as he took a slow step towards her. He could probably kill her with his bare hands, he was stronger in every way. But brains could often best brawn. The chain had been rusting with each step he took until finally it snapped: sending the chandelier crashing down and smashing into the floor, causing an almighty noise and tremendous amount of glass shrapnel. Having looked down and becoming distracted with the destruction of property, Celiann had taken her opportunity. She was so mousy people didn’t pay attention to her; so slight that nobody thought her capable of anything. “D-Die,” she whispered to him, as her hand bumped against his chest; holding onto the end of the darkwood wand she had thrust into his heart.


Satoshi remained near the top of the stairs while Celiann began her raid of the rooms, a ghost watchful and unobtrusive. And yet, the magus nearly intervenes when Decembrius appears, his magical potency clear even from this distance, sending Satoshi's whiskers into a quivering dance. Could the mouse-turned-lion triumph against this wolf? The chandelier seems to think so, as it descend upon the man with a crash of glass shrapnel, Satoshi retreating behind the safety of her frosted cloak. When the kit peers out once more, it's to find Celiann's wand buried into Decembrius' chest and a defiant sneer on the dying vampire's face. Blood bubbles on his lips as he tries to form words that are nearly inaudible, his hand shuddering as it's lifted in a sharp, dismissing gesture. Satoshi recognizes the movements and whisper of sound as a spell, a solidifying of the air between himself and Celiann that's thrust outwards with violent force, intending to launch the little vampire clear down the hallway to be impaled upon the waiting spears of the suits of armor on display. Satoshi does not wait to see if the little necromancer defends herself, the magus reacting the instant her arcane-trained mind registered the incoming spell. With a shrill whistle and a plummet of the surrounding temperatures, her fog-woven cloak extends from her, jutting out in the ghostly outline of hands meant to catch Celiann in a frigid embrace before any spears do.


Celiann had chosen to stare defiantly at Decembrius as she held onto her wand, feeling the cold blood of his vampiric body touch her equally cold hand, “Th-This H-House n-n-n-never l-loved m-m-me,” she whispered shakily, the words so meaningful and upsetting that she stammered and stuttered upon every single word. Her hurt whisper distracted her; she was so caught up in her own thoughts and feelings that she didn’t think about Decembrius and his final moments, the final harm he could possibly cause her. With a yelp, the necromancer is sent flying backwards. Part of her is terrified and another part of her is resigned to whatever fate might come her way, the weariness and resignation caused by the swift depletion of her magic from the vicious and dark combat. And yet, rather than the bitter embrace of a true death, she is caught in the bitter cold hands of fog. The scholar blinks and doesn’t move. She is certain she can recognise the sort of magical signature, yet she is too weary to question it. Even so, she still does not move, as though fearful any movement might dispel the icy hands.


Satoshi's whistle directs the mist to lower Celiann and gently deposit her upon the floor before retreating back into the form of a cloak. Almost shyly the magus dips her head in greeting to the necromancer. "Pardon the intrusion. There was a fair bit of dark energy in the airs, I couldn't help but follow my nose." There's a pointed look in Satoshi's eyes here. She is not the only creature in Vailkrin that can or will taste the residue of the magical duels, and soon others will come to investigate. Not all will play the role of by-stander or supporter like Satoshi, however. It's time to finish your task, Celiann, or retreat.


Celiann dusts off her robes once she is deposited on the ground, realising that what she came for is deposited on the bed upstairs and she is already beginning to feel weary. Without a word offered to Satoshi just as of yet, the necromancer concentrates by raising both hands before her. She is searching for the presence of any undead servants still roaming the household; the ones who were bound to her will have been removed, she can sense that much, she can sense their absence. But there are still a few servants roaming, now confused with the loss of Alesha, Decembrius and Zatek. As if she were an athlete pushing her stamina, she closes her eyes and pushes at her magical will until it locates the nearest undead – and confused – servant, latching onto them so her bidding can be carried out. “F-F-Fetch,” she said quietly, watching as the servant lumbered up the stairs; clumsily clambering over the gap at the top in order to find her little compiled treasure trove. “G-G-Ginavi is g-g-gone,” she said quietly, now looking to Satoshi. It was evident that Celiann no longer considered herself a part of this demolished household.


Satoshi tips her head thoughtfully to one side, an ear cocked toward the front door should any busybodies pay a visit. "Perhaps. Perhaps not," she says to Celiann. The magus takes a moment then to regard the undead servant making its lumbering way to whatever destination it was commanded, gaze still considering in nature. "I believe that depends upon your next choice. Head an empty House, restore it. Or..." Satoshi trails off then, turning away to begin descending the stairs, heading for the door. It's only when she's at the rotted hole where Celiann had defeated a housemate, that the kit pauses to look back at the necromancer. Her face is unreadable, mistborn cloak having drawn a hood around her features. "House Azakhaer's doors are open to those that fight so fiercely in the name of family."


Celiann shook her head and ‘tsked’ audibly at the mention of restoring the House, “G-G-Ginavi is a t-t-traitor’s name,” this was said with certainty and utter conviction, the undead servant standing a small number of paces behind Celiann. And while Celiann is a scholar, someone who studies the unknown and unearths the great and darkest of mysteries, she is an idiot at the best of times: “Azakhaer is a y-y-young but n-n-noble h-house, s-s-stronger than m-m-most,” she didn’t think she was strong enough to be a part of it, really.


Satoshi's head dips in a noncommittal nod. "You have choices to make, necromancer, in regards to this choice you made tonight. There is much to weigh and consider, although I do not think you will have long to decide. Come to the Black Library when you've decided. We'll be there." With this, Satoshi sweeps out the door, not waiting for a response. It won't be long until others arrive to investigate the noise, and Satoshi does not think it will make Kasyr's life easier if one of his kin is spotted at the scene of the House purge. Plus, she'll have to inform him of what truly happened, before rumors and accusations begin flying. The little magus smirks, expression full of fangs, at the thought. Frostmaw may be a stormy ocean, hellbent on breaking wills and destroying bodies, but Vailkrin is shark-infested, swarming in with the first hints of blood in the water, teeth ready to latch on. Bring on the sharks.


Celiann intended to go to the Black Library for some peace and quiet, but when Satoshi mentioned waiting there and something to do with a decision, she realised she’d have to change her plans a little. With a small nod of her head, Celiann slipped out the door and beyond the slumped bodies of the Ladaeth men: black robes billowing about in dramatic, villain-esque fashion. She would head to the graveyard and meditate there. Regain some strength.