RP: The Captains Concerns

Part of the Welcome To The End of Eras Arc

Summary: Leoxander decides to pay Kasyr an overdue visit, in part due to the disastrous forum the Kensai held, though the topic does shift to Lita and her machinations. Things go swell, especially once Valrae is brought up.

Vailkrin Capitol Foyer

Rebuilt once more, the castle's foyer is not only more expansive in size, but grand in appearance. Through the large wooden doors flanked by a pair of imposing gargoyle sentinels toting polearms, visitors are greeted first by the distant sound of plucked lyre strings. The instrument and its player is unseen, impossible to source, and the sound itself seems to be emanating from every element of the space. The floor is a black marble, its darkness offset by the cool grey stone walls that grow into high arches overhead, supported by flying buttresses just outside of them. Mirroring the pair of gargoyles at the door, pairs of rose windows filled with panes of cool-colored glass depicting various locations of the City of the Dead in an abstracted style sit high on either wall, ushering in what little light the nighttime city manages to receive. Straight ahead, just above the arched entryway leading to Vailkrin's great hall, the largest window of colored glass depicts the city's symbol, its black hand encircled by lavender panes of glass. Perhaps revealing itself to be the source of the music playing within the castle, those with sharp eyes may notice five thin lines of silver swirling around Vailkrin's black hand in the glass. They seem to shimmer when they're acknowledged, then wink out of sight. The now colored light shifts in an unnatural manner, moving in time with the music as it plays across the black tiles.

Kasyr is on a warpath. Whilst recent developments had certainly lent the monster-turned-monarch a seemingly ever-expanding chain of misery- the most recent demand had done an admirable job of providing something for his existential dread to hone in on. Having been sharpened to such a point, that sense of indignation is now adeptly wielded, causing curious onlookers, concerned servants and even one would-be-assassin to decide there was definitely better things to do.

It's in this manner that Kasyr descends from his office, through the myriad floors of the castle, and finally makes his way to the front halls, a note clutched within a white-knuckled grasp.

Leoxander might be that would-be-assassin, but not today. Granted, it would have been a lot easier to take out the beasts guarding the door, but if there was some other way into the building he’d know it. Whether it took a distraction with one or two of Ina’s soufflares (eaten or just popped in a tiny explosion of color), he was soon walking the perimeter of those marble floors with his medallion triggered to cast a shadowy film over the masked and war-dressed rogue. It was at some point during Kasyr’s angry stroll when there were no guards to rush in - at least not after Leo managed to render one or two unconscious. He wasn’t there with intention of killing anyone. “More love from the fans?” His grated, wolf-worthy tone was as quiet as ever, but probably echoed just a little in the vaulted foyer of the castle. Kasyr would have no trouble spotting him, leaning against a wall, even after he dismissed the shadow-laced disguise.

Kasyr stops dead in his tracks at the sound of Leoxander's voice- though he doesn't turn to face the rogue. No, this particular introduction leaves the swordsmans' posture in a state of tense alertness, the Kensais' attention flicking towards everywhere except the Captain- searching for the telltale sound of other heartbeats, of anxious breathes, the creak of leathers that might indicate others present. Paranoia, perhaps, but after the summit, after the endless litany of rapid-fire reactions- the potential existed that this was some murderous form of misdirection. It's only after the words have hung in the air for too long, that he finally offers, "Better than suggestions from your locals, je vous assure." It's only after the words have exited his mouth that he feels some need to amend the statement, to turn towards the wolf and offer a blunt "What do you want? You made your stance clear at the summit. You all did." Unlike Leo, the swordsman isn't necessarily geared for war- rather, his accoutrements are a farrago of the dress associated with his new station, and a few odds and ends seemingly scooped up at random, with his trenchcoat thrown over the whole like some lacklustre finishing touch.

Leoxander pushed away from the wall and unfolded his arms once he’d given the leader of Vailkrin ample time to look around on his own, approaching the man he’d known for nearly as long as he’d known Lythridel. “Nobody knows I’m here.” It was a dangerous truth to share. It gave the volatile kensai the upper hand in case he wanted to attempt to get the Captain out of the picture, but it also displayed a level of trust that he hoped would put Kasyr somewhat at ease. As much as he possibly could do with so much chaos crashing down and him, at the epicenter. “Except you. An’ I don’t bullrush a decision without knowing what I need to know.” He didn’t bother to ask Kasyr for a drink, but he wouldn’t deny himself one as he stood a few feet from the castle’s keeper. Drawing his flask from inside a cinched and sleeveless coat, bearing a tattered, blood red sash of No Quarter in warning tied haphazardly around his waist, his other concealed and hellfire marked hand drew down his mask, revealing that he had not shaved for battle. “For a second, pardon your pride and wrath to see it from another perspective. Let’s say my own.” He wanted somewhere to sit but if he had to stand there in the hall until the guards woke up or more filed in, so be it. “You pop out’a nowhere for my help. I get the girl away from her ‘mum’ an’ auntie since yer lookin’ for each other. She waits. You vanish. Not a bloody word ‘r whisper, mate.” He helped himself to another drink in the pause. “Half believed you were gone out’a this place, one way or another. But no.” A slight gesture and an even more subtle expression as he went through the timeline. “Next time I see you, yer keepin’ the graveyard an’ tryin’ to pull that no good son’uvabich out of his hole. What do you expect him to do that he won’t do for his own g’damn people?”

/, for a brief moment, deflates- if only because that inkling of trust serves to pre-emptively defuse whatever brusque words he'd been preparing to cut their talk short. It didn't help that he was beginning to see threadbare trickles of blood on the floor. Hardly enough to be lethal- but, his morbid little gift was drawing a nice little roadmap to the 'off-duty' guards. "Tch. You're a governor, you know. You could have just used the door." Though, given how bad the city was, how much hostility there was towards 'breathers'... Well, it was an unnecessary contemplation. Especially given the pirate was providing an unpleaasently accurate summary of events, "I needed her busy, because she made a deal with something bad. Et then I got caught up in this tas de merde. All of this garbage." There's a gesture, both towards the city, and the very building they were in.His right hand slipped into his pocket, worrying away at whatever it can happen against, "Honestly. Nearly was gone. Didn't take. As usual." There's no relief there, just a soul-deep exhaustion. "Let's walk et talk- et I'll say what I -can- say, as we go. The other specifics would need to come later." That paper, having been dragged into the Kensai's pocket, is scrunched up meaningfully, even as the swordsman begins to make his way towards the door. There's still an anger now, but it's simmering below the surface, "Macon. Let's test if what you though you needed to know matches up to the facts. I'll correct things at the end." The swordsman moving out from the hallway now, and into the broad open space of the front hall, and then the doors leading down towards that steep descent into the city proper. Follow along, Captain.

Steep Rock-face

The path north is interrupted by a sudden and steep incline, at the top of which a great castle is poised, peering down upon Vailkrin. The way on would be almost impossible if not for a series of zig-zagging staircases which have been carved into the stony face, making access to the castle somewhat more practical if still paralyzingly precarious.

Leoxander glanced at the breathing guards on the floor with a murmur of reply to the comment about the door, “I like t’ keep things int’restin’, mate.” That murmur of reply to the mention of the door was all he said at first. That was all he said at first, falling quiet again as Kasyr spoke, giving him time to get his words out before he began to walk after the kensai’s lead, so bold to assume he wasn’t being thrown out, not yet disregarding the possibility he still could be following the man into a trap, but they both had to be cautious that way with their status, be it governor or murderer. “An’ did I not do you that boon, Kas’? Not even askin’ anything back.” Though maybe it was a mutual understanding a favor didn’t come lightly from those two. “I know I been fortunate to stay out’a his radar. I know Larket’s deader n’ this place, an’ I noticed your new ‘citizens’ on the streets.” (If not seen, the lycan would smell that familiar, horrible smell.) He had capped his flask on the way down, and automatically fell into that neutral stance with his arms crossed over his chest, his collar exposing the silver chain and some of the ink on his chest and neck. “An’ he’s a bloody coward for the way he handled Baines. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with whatever feud they had or my preference in company, but a man who uses an army to kill one woman and display it as he did makes him a bloody King of fermin an’ swine.”

Kasyr waits until they've made decent progress on that long way down to pause again, taking some small comfort in the space it afforded them to monitor the surroundings, "So, during that mess with that god thing- I made a deal with him. I offered a binding deal. A binding on the sort Joliette would have likely managed."The kensai glances back up towards Leo, trying to see if that rang a bell, "Non-hostility between me and mine, and him and his entire city. A tempting deal, et one that even made agreeing to refrain from trying to kill Valrae while Caluss roamed. Good timing, too, given Tessa's assassination attempt." And then his attention flicks back down towards the stairs, an uneven step taken, "He didn't look at the terms closely." Not that it mattered, it seems. "In any case, that arrangement made for a solid foundation to negotiate a new trade deal. Because hate him as much as you'd like- this city needs stone. It was never meant to contain this many." And especially not in it's damaged state. "Honetement? What he did was a brash action- and if any of the other leaders had half a brain cell, or a bit of patience, I don't think they would have fallen for it. But you saw how many took him at his word, hook line et sinker. The words were barely out of his mouth, et they left." The swordsman's step begins to pick up pace again, scratching at the side of his temple, "The answers easy, of course. I can save the continent as much as I like, but at the end of the day- I'm still a vampire. Vailkrin es still a problem. A dumping ground for things they'd rather not see again. Gods, they must have been so repulsed at the idea of welcoming back a citizen who'd once called a different region home." There's a laugh there, but it's bitter, and full of venom. "Oh, and I can't forget Inks. She didn't wait to talk to me, either. Sent of apologies, et really made sure to solidify Macon's scam. If any had doubts before, that certainly sealed the deal. Wouldn't matter -what- I said, after that." As they near the bottom of those long steps, the Kensai finally offers up a quieter, "I appreciate you actually asking. I'm still working through all the people I'll have to write off, or probably fight by the end of all of this."

Leoxander shook his head at the fellow governor, or whatever title he was afforded in Valkrin’s hierarchy. “I won’t tell you who to trust, an’ it’s not my business who you sign yer contracts with unless it involves me. An’... it involves me. Not because I’m protectin’ my island alone. An’... I don’t buy this Vailkrin bulls**t, Kas’. Arms dropped in his stance and he took his time to look around, having not really spent all that much time within those walls. “There’s plenty o’ damn vampires an’ dark magic worshipers that this city would be a haven for research or whatever you lot bloody do, without steppin’ on others toes. A few have told me as much, themselves, wantin’ to go home or fin’ their place. Tenebrae never hid behind stone. We rallied around her ‘cause no one else accepted the stains on our hands. You think yer so [censored] alone, so hated. What the hell am I standin’ here for, then?” He didn’t usually give a speech or bother to reprimand others for their behaviour, but honestly, he wasn’t ready for war again. And someone would expect him to choose a side. “Answer two questions fer me an we’ll call it even. I won’t try to talk you in or out of anythin’. But if I’d given up on Rynvale after the parasite ripped it apart, it would be right there in the rankin’ for a dumpin’ ground.” He waited, giving Kasyr the chance to decide if he would hear those two questions. "An' if it makes you feel any better about yourself, that crazy wench introduced herself to me on my territory with a g'damn steel bat. Couldn't do much for you there." Leoxander could truly relate. He'd felt alone, hated, back on a place that had been neglected and overlooked. They were probably more alike than either would admit.

Vailkrin Plaza

This magnificent plaza, also paved in black stone, is adorned with elegant, wrought-iron streetlights to augment the silvery glow of the moon above, lending it a slightly brighter aspect than many places in the Dark Lands. To the west lies a short path leading to a busy shop of some sort, all manner of shady individuals streaming back and forth from it. To the east is a sheer rockface with a steep, broadly-cut stone path winding upward to a towering structure above. Below this stands a massive monolith hewn from the same dark material, but with one highly polished face upon which has been carved and the inscription highlighted in pearlescent moonstone. One might like to pause for a moment and read the inscription. To the north is an official-looking building, with City Guards stationed around it. Placed around the square are several benches and cafe tables, offering rest to those who have spent their coin at the district's shops, with plenty of room left for public gatherings.

Kasyr reaches the bottom of the stairs, and glances around, at a city's attempts to right itself. While vast damage existed to the city and structures themselves, the process of reclaiming the streets from the roving undead, those mindless and corrupted ferals, had initially gone smoothly. Clearing the aftermath, all of the bodies, the burning- that had been a larger ordeal, and new nasty surprises still managed to crop up every so often- but at the very least, the city major existed in a precarious sort of peace. In part, perhaps, due to the diligent work of the city guard, whose once bustling tower now existed on a skeleton crew - its forces perpetually scattered across the city on various reports, mostly minor- although some. . . His attention looks on the southern end of the plaza- past the great monolith and its fractured moonstone excesses. "I'm not talking about the vampires, necromancers, cultists- quoi-ce-..." He pauses, and his voice comes out more evenly, the accent forcibly suppressed, "When Caluss arrived here. When he burned my fu-*** city to the ground. He brought with him thousands of undead. Brought back from the far corners of the world. Hundreds of years worth. Just because they were -dumped- here, does not mean all of them consider this place home. Some of them -want- to see the cities they once roamed, to see how their families are doing. To find some semblance of their old lives." He takes a moment, hoping some of the tone in his voice eases off, "But no. Vailkrin is their home, according to the rest of the world. " Leo's indignation at the Kensais' morose commentary perhaps hits a bit closer to home, eliciting a darkly humourous, "And I am coloured surprised, after the rest, je vous assure." That said, there's actually a moment that comes close to genuine humour, as the pirate offers up a description of his own close encounter with the seamstress, "Sounds like her. It's fine. She's fine. Not involved anymore, et it's for the best." As he steps around the obelisk and makes his way towards the market, the swordsman does finally offer up a resigned, "Ask away."

Leoxander sighed through his nose, dragging fingers through overgrown hair at the memory of this happening before. “Diiroehn took their souls to stop the roving, last time they swarmed.” He didn’t bother to bring up the fact he’d been paid handsomely but had also paid a price for hauling them to underworld gates. He had to suppress a shudder at the memory. “I don’ understand much yer compassion for ‘em but tha’s yer prerogative, mate. At least you’d be givin’ them somethin’.” He taps a finger to his temple to add, “Don’ forget what the parasite left us with o’er east.” Quiet for a moment, he finally turned his gaze out toward the city and participated in a moment of silent, not a mourning moment, but thoughtful. His first question was spoken in an even tone as he continued to scan the decaying land. “If it did come to a fight for this place, you really think Macon wouldn’t throw you over in a moment? That he would keep the accord if some of yer corpses went wanderin’ into his so-called peaceful city?” He did want to hear Kasyr’s answer to that, even though it was a subtle reminder he was treading in dangerous waters. But more important was the second question, whether or not the kensai had time to answer the first. Might as well get it all out there while he had the chance, ‘lest his old clanmate vanish again. “An’ what about Lita, an’ this pact yer makin’ or made with her? It doesn’t piss me off that neither of you told me," At least at first. Leo had eyes and ears everywhere. "But now I’m a bit triggered that yer doin’ somethin’ extreme with my Deputy an’ mixin’ her up in yer affairs. An' don't tell me yer not after reminding me what Jol-...Tenebrae's pact could do."

Larry Mar's Construction

The once well-known slave market was re-occupied, the building itself repurposed with Vailkrin's changes in policies. It's a mess of building materials and more able-bodied undead gathered than what seems to be normal, even for Vailkrin. They all oddly look very recently killed and reanimated, or exhumed. The reason for their loss of life isn't what's important. Their work is. A gargoyle with a seemingly unending supply of cigars paces the shop-turned construction company, peering over hastily-built tables with blueprints and stacks of paperwork spread out on them. Larry, in the company of his undead crew, are available to employ for anyone in the City of Undead. For the right price – or offering of new employees, of course.

Kasyr may have squinted at Leoxander, after he details Diiroehns 'elegant' solution. "Lita suggested much the same. Genocide. Being worse than Macon, on a vastly larger scale, seems like a piss-poor solution." That's all the snark Kasyr's going to offer, however- content enough to walk in silence as they pass through the repurposed slave markets- cages and masters replaced with carpenters and masons. Some even wave at the passing king, no doubt due to the royal commissions that keep them afloat- though one particularly bulky Gargoyle starts to approach the pair, a hefty fist lofted up in the pantomime of a student hailing a teacher, "Hey! Hey boss!" The kensai finds himself glancing in the direction the gargoyle is moving for a second, before he realizes the address was meant for him, whether by dint of status, or potential business share- "I wanted to ask if you'd sent anyone to look in after my crew?" Oh. This. The swordsman, rather than immediately answer, simply removes the crumpled note from his jacket, waves it at the gargoyle, and then keeps walking. The gargoyle, for his part, goes from a questioning "Oh?" to an understanding, "Oh." and decides now's a good time to go back to organizing his workers. Which meant, there were no more distractions to stall the swordsman, beyond the requisite time it took to start cutting through narrower streets. While he was fairly adept at picking out a tail, simply sitting in one place was a great way to provide people gossip, "The wording was specific. If the necropolis did start a fight, that would be on them. I could still keep the rest of Vailkrin safe. From him." That last part, perhaps, needed to be specified most of all. As for Lita, "She'd be safe. Likely safer than she was before, enfin." That didn't provide much clarity, so the Kensai adds, "I'm going to fix her turning, so she's not a stray. Not the shit I conned Macon into." That was adequately blunt, but if there was one thing that Kasyr knew, it was that Leo was as protective of his own, as Kasyr had been to the Coterie and the select few he'd let in, "You have my word she's going to have the freedom to bail out. Really, I'd rather she not be tangled in this. I've resigned myself to the idea that this house of cards will likely collapse. Et if I'd rather not anyone associated be with me to get drawn in. It also means my hands won't be tied. I will bleed out the sorry bastards that make that mistake."

Leoxander was a little surprised to see those cages replaced. Once upon a time he couldn’t afford to care about cities in peril or slavery. The change of heart had come with the acquisition of the former slave ship they had pirated to free, though it would never replace Eternity. And Loravelle’s growth from servantmaid to … well… queen of the coconuts. But discovering herself without rules and limitations, all the same. Before he could mention any of this or Lita’s suggestion, the gargoyle barked and the wolf looked in it’s direction, fairly accustomed to being called ‘boss’ but not so used to the creature speaking. His mask drawn and stopping his heated breath from showing in the air, his gaze would remain dark unless there were lanterns or torches along the construction sight to reflect now and then. He was quiet, watching, listening a few steps behind Kasyr’s shoulder, noticing the note exchanged. The rogue was mildly suspicious that missive had contained words to fuel his pacing and scowling earlier. When their conversation continued, it started to feel like that time his instincts told him to move along, never overstaying his welcome in one place when not on the island. Survival instincts. “Well, you gave half the world the wrong impression, makin’ agreements and announcing it like that. Even I might take a little time to think about what kind’a message we’re tryin’ to send before I shout it to council.” His last bit of advice offered before he was delayed by the answer about Lita, and now it was the pirate’s turn to wear a face of anger and annoyance. “She’s no g’damn stray, Kasyr. She’s part of my pack. She’s jus’ as free as the rest to do what she’s gotta do but the two of you could’a offered me the common f***in’ courtesy of a heads up. We gotta work on our mutual respect, you an’ I.” His glare lingered on the kensai that extra second to stamp his words in. “I gott’a get back. Jus’ don’t be too surprised if yer business partner falls out’a commission.” No forearm grasp or nod, this time. And the former revenant didn’t need to be told that Leo would be watching and he turned to make his way out of the city as stealthily as he had entered it.

Kasyr doesn't wither beneath that glare, his expression turning wry instead, "I suppose so. That said- She's sireless, Leo. Hanan ditched her. If she snaps someday, there es no one there to rein her in. Frankly, it's a small marvel she's as well adjusted as she is." Maybe it'd still piss Leo off, but- it was what it was, not like colloquialisms were kind. "As for the council. If you mean the Moth Queens' gathering, I wasn't invited. Seemed like a curious omission, especially after all I've done. Almost feels like an excuse, really. So- I'd rather you keep mum. If someone es waiting for their moment, I'd rather they rear their head et make it obvious who to aim for." As Leo moves to depart, the Kensai can't help but offer a, "Please. Et here I thought you weren't aiming to do me any favours."

Still, whatever reaction that might elicit, the swordsman had business to do. Work that was going to dry up whatever small pleasures he could derive from that exchange.