RP: The Lost Assassin

Synopsis: Larewen stumbles upon a vampiric assassin with little recollection as to where she's come from. Seeing her skills as potentially useful, she recruits Annabelle for Gheneroc's cause.

The Town of Kelay, the Streets of Vailkrin, and a cave within the Xalious Mountains

Larewen had little reason to be in Kelay this afternoon, safe to check, perhaps, the board. And so it was that the woman, garbed in what some might consider a sort of finery, would shoulder open the establishment's door and make her way toward the board, but not without noticing first Annabelle.

Annabelle you quickly steps aside to avoid being in the stranger's way. She looks up to get a better view of Larewen, then takes a drink of the ale. After a moment's glance, she looked around once more, trying to figure out how she even ended up here in the first place.

Larewen pivoted on a booted heel, her path diverging from its original destination as she instead drew closer to the woman. Her rags and her state of confusion were not lost on the dark sorceress, that much was certain. "Is something wrong?" she asked, the notes of her voice hauntingly sweet.

Annabelle, feeling oddly self conscious looked up in surprise at the woman. "Y-yes, miss..." She stammered, "You see, I don't know how I got here...". She looked down at her own clothes, trying to remember the previous days, but all that came to mind was nothing but a blank.

Larewen arched a brow upward behind the thin, black mesh of her veil. The other's confusion was mildly amusing to the elf, but she did not let such a fact twist the natural curve of her lips; no, she'd decided that for the time-being, she would lure others in with a feigned kindness. "It happens to everyone at some point," came the sorceress's haunting voice again. Her nostrils flared slightly. "Fortunately, our kind can afford those sorts of moments now and then." She was referring to their curse and their state of undeath. "Have you a name?"

Annabelle looked up at the woman, her aura gave her a chilled feeling, but she brushed it off as being nothing more than a side affect of feeling lost. She blinked once upon the asking of her name, that rushed back to her in a whisper. "...Annabelle... Miss." she replied slowly. Taking in the womans' words, she assumed this woman was, too, a Vampire.

Larewen reached out then, with a gloved hand, as if to take the ale from Annabelle's fingers - which was, ultimately, her goal. "There are better things to push into your body than that. You are far too timid for one bearing the Dark Gift; I suspect you might be in dire need of blood. Do you know when you last fed?" Annabelle was right to be made slightly uncomfortable by the sorceress's aura. Larewen was, most definitely, not the cuddly, lovable, goody-two-shoes type of woman.

Annabelle looked at the woman, her eyes squinting a moment in concentration. Finally, after calculating, she responded. "I would say at this level of hunger, miss," she pulls the ale away for another drink. "It must have been a day and a half.." She, then, released the bottle to the counter. "I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to start off on the wrong foot here by letting my hunger get to me... This ale is good enough for distraction at the moment." She felt oddly protective of her new drink.

Larewen found mirth at Annabelle's response and a chilling peal of laughter fell from her lips. "I was going to suggest a walk to Vailkrin; the City of Vampires happens to have a fountain of blood. You looked too soft to be willing to jump a stranger anyway," came Larewen's reply. Somehow, despite how condescending her words were, the elf's tone remained sickeningly sweet. "Personally, I prefer my blood fresh from my victim's throat."

Annabelle gave her a wayward glance and lifted her head. Her eyes darkened slightly at her words, she could see through the tones, however, she kept her same face. "Fountain of blood you say..." a small grin crossed her lips. "Sounds pleasurable to me, after all... I need to keep my softness in tact..." She kept her gaze soft on the woman, analyzing her words and body language. "Pray, tell me where this... city lies, so that I may find peace and fill my thirst."

Larewen's gloved hand, still extended from having failed to snatch the ale, turned its palm upward in offering to the other vampire, whom she assumed was younger than her. Whether or not that was true would not matter, though. Larewen often regarded others as younger, smaller, or, on some occasions, worse. When one was the consort of a dragon and spent their days seeking power, it sort of just happened. She would wait for the other to take her hand. "It is in the Dark Lands - a portal lays east of here."

Annabelle set the empty bottle on the bar and then took the woman's hand. "Thank you, miss." she replied gently as she stood and readied herself for leaving. "Dark portal... sounds... fitting." She responded finally, nodding that she was, indeed, ready to depart. She looked around once more, wondering what sort of place she had got herself stuck in. Since she was here, however, she decided to go ahead and indulge.

Larewen would guide the woman in silence to the desolate pass and then into the Dark Lands. It wouldn't be until they'd traversed some distance into the City of Vailkrin that she'd finally speak again. "Glorious, is it not?" she'd ask, even as they approached a fountain that bubbled not with water, but with blood.

Annabelle looked around at the city and her eyes widened a little. She felt her impulse growing heavy with the scent of blood nearby. Her eyes began to darken more, as she tried to refrain from whooshing over and going at it. She, instead, began to look around for a cup. "It's ... Very nice.." she responded finally.

Larewen saw the other's need for a cup. Being one of propriety herself, Larewen could understand the need to not look like a rabid animal. Releasing Annabelle's hand, Larewen's fingers began to move, accompanied by words that, undoubtedly, made little sense to the assassin. A ripple appeared between them, seemingly existing on the air itself, and through it the elf shoved her arm. It seemed to disappear, all the way up to her shoulder as she reached in and when her hand was withdrawn, there would be in it a goblet, its glass dyed black. She extended it toward Annabelle, even as the ripple in the air disappeared.

Annabelle reached out to take the goblet. She closed her eyes and breathed gently to try and push down the hunger. "Thank you," she replied gently, staring oddly at the blank space between them that had before been ripples. She gave it one more quizical look before looking away, having sensed the new creature that entered. "There's a demon here... i can feel it..." she whispers to herself. She then takes the cup with both hands and walks next to the fountain, dipping it in and taking a drink.

Larewen chuckled at the woman's words. "There are demons everywhere, little one. There are dragons, too. The sentient dead here are not just vampires," the dark sorceress explained, even as she lowered herself to sit on the lip of the fountain. One leg crossed over the other beneath her dress. "There is no need to be afraid."

Annabelle took a drink of the red liquid, it tasted better to her than she ever could imagine. She took note that it had probably been longer than 1 day after all. She took another cup full into her hands and drank more. "So you live together here..." The ways here were different, but then again so were the people. She tried to remember anything, but she could only come to one conclusion. She reached into her bag suddenly and pulled out a piece of paper. She had remembered having it during her last feeding.

Larewen lifted her chin slightly, watching as Annabelle drank her fill. "Yes," she answered. "Most of us, anyway. My home is in the Dark Forest, with my daughter; however, I also spend some nights in my master's cave." She watched with curiosity as the other withdrew a sheet of paper from her bag. "What's that?" she asked, still playing the nice part.

Annabelle opened the paper, curious of the same question the female had just asked of her. She stopped and looked up at the woman. "I was feeding when I found this... That is all I can remember right now..." She explained. She turned the paper around. There seemed to be some sort of bounty but she wasn't quite sure. At the bottom it had said something about coming to Hollow. "This must be why I'm here... but, maybe I was coming for another reason as well... Nothing is clear yet." She replied, she felt good, the blood running through her veins once more made her feel heightened strength, but somehow it wasn't good enough completely. She remembered the taste of her last human victim. Now she understood the words of the woman before her.

Larewen looked to the bounty as it was turned to face her, instantly recognizing the image drawn upon it. Her lips quirked upward, revealing a pearly, fanged grin before gloved hands reached upward. She tugged her hat from her head in a fashion that both removed the veil and knocked her hair from its bun atop her head. With a toss of those dark, bistre tresses, the hair resettled around her face to frame it. Without the obscuring veil, the woman's features were completely and totally visible. "Do you intend to collect?" the dark sorceress asked, leaning forward to better read the words on it. "Ah, for the murder of Illondria. I should have expected as much."

Annabelle narrowed her eyes at the woman. "If turning this bounty in gives a means to life, then yes." she responded promptly. She looked at it once more. "Who is Illondria...?" She asked, her eyes darkening in curiosity. This woman's smile... her words... 'she has something to do with this... she has answers I could use....' came her next thought.

Larewen lowered her had into her lap and continued to smile that eerily pleasant smile to Annabelle. "She was my niece, when she was whole. I imagine it took them some time to find enough of her remains to identify her," came Larewen's answer. "I imagine my aunt might have a hand in this, too. That woman never forgave me." She shifted slightly. "Again I ask, do you intend to collect?"

Annabelle raised her head higher, narrowed her eyes a moment, "I haven't decided yet." Came her reply clear and flat. "I would say yes, but if there is something else that I can better my time spent then I would consider that... but at this moment... I do not know of any alternatives, and yet, here I am, pondering."

Larewen's grin began a smirk, her lips curling upward as her teeth were once more hidden behind her lips. "What if I could offer you the prospect of power, of excitement? A meaning to your life that is not bought by coins, but by your loyalty to a cause instead?" she offered.

Annabelle looked at her, her thoughts churned in her mind as she analyzed what this woman could possibly want. "And what cause... miss... would that be?" she asked. This smirk of hers was unsettling. Surely, there was no good to come of this and yet, a small candle flicker of excitement rose in her; something she hadn't felt in years.

Larewen was delighted to see the woman's curiosity, shifting once more for comfort upon the lip of the fountain. "Your service in my master's army. He seeks conquest. He seeks to right the wrongs that have befallen his kind; he seeks to return them to their former strength and glory, as creatures that ought to be feared."

Annabelle thought for a moment but was a little confused. "Wait... are you the good side, or the bad? Because if you're trying to correct what is wrong.. then why would you need to be feared?" She casually dipped the cup in once more and began drinking. "And who is your master? What does he do?" She had never heard of such things before. Maybe this so called army could help her on her over all quest, what ever that may be…

Larewen was silent for a few moments, allowing the vampire her drink. Only when Annabelle's attention had returned to her did she answer with, "My master is the King Under the Mountain, Gheneroc. He is a dragon, recently awoken from his hibernation. If you'd like to meet with him, that could be arranged."

Annabelle looked at Larewen in confusion. "Your master... is a dragon?" She gave a bit of a laugh. "Vampires serve dragons here? Oh this is too much..." She returned her look to seriousness. "What could my serving a Dragon give me? Excitement... the ability to do good for all people?" She smirked, her own wry smirk. "Ever lasting life serving another creature?"

Larewen had expected such a response and shook her head. "No, we do not serve dragons here - unless we choose to. What dragons do have is knowledge, and knowledge is power, no?" came the dark sorceress's reply.

Annabelle raised an eyebrow to this. "Very well... you have my curiosity... I'll give you that." She gave a slight laugh. "What use would I have specifically? Is there a shortage of assassins here or something?" She asked quizzically.

Larewen lifted her shoulder. "I do not know what use my master would have for you, but I do know what uses I would have," came her reply. "There are things that Gheneroc cannot give me, but one who is honed in the art of stealth, on the other hand..." There was an almost malicious glitter in her eyes. "I like to collect things - artifacts, if you will. There is power in those as well. I could employ your services, I'm sure, in retrieving some of those."

Annabelle cleared her throat and leveled her gaze with the woman's. "Very well, May I have the name of my employer and my duty.... what is it that you seek most?" her lip curled into a slight sneer as she spoke. "And... What will I get in return?" She asked finally, taking yet another sip, but looking across the rim of the glass at Larewen.

Larewen did not yet give her name, though her smirk had once again morphed into a wicked grin. "What is it that you want, Annabelle?" came her reply, perhaps to see if what the other desired was something attainable.

Annabelle wasn't sure of how to reply to this. She wasn't sure which had her guard up more... the grin, or the nameless woman before her. Something was hidden, yet somehow she felt an urge to move forward with the conversation. "My past... why I am actually here...I want to know what brought me here. It's almost as if it's another world... and yet, I have no recollection of how I got here... Do you think you can help with that?" she asked, once more raising a brow.

Larewen lifted her head. "Provided I am successful in my endeavors to expand my own knowledge and power, then yes. I could most definitely assist you in remembering your past," came her answer, spoken confidently. "Memories are not lost; they are misplaced. Though you may not be able to access them yourself, they are still there."

Annabelle looked at Larewen and nodded. "Very well then, I will assist you in your endeavor for the ability to remember my past..." She spoke confidently. She wasn't quite on this woman's side, but she wasn't exactly against her either. It appeared she had met a mutual benefit between them. She didn't mind this as much.

Larewen smiled all to sweetly once again. "We have an agreement then, Annabelle." And with that, she extended a gloved hand toward the woman. The braided chain imprinted upon her skin, from behind her right ear and coiling down across her chest to disappear beneath her clothes, writhed slightly with the movement.

Annabelle slowly extended her hand towards Larewen to shake her hand, her eyes catching the movement of the chain. She hesitated a moment. "What is that?" she asked gently, looking back at the woman's face, reading her once more.

Larewen had only offered a smile to Annabelle in lieu of her comment regarding the portal to the Dark Lands. In silence, the elf guided her back through Kelay and into the Xalious Mountains. They would walk for some time before finally, they would approach a cave. "He is here," would be all that is said before Larewen led Annabelle into the cavern. Its insides were filled with the gore of Gheneroc's meals, but the dark sorceress paid no mind to it.

Annabelle looked around as they entered.She allowed herself to ignore the feeling, hoping that the impending doom feeling would soon be over. Around this time, going treasure hunting sounded a lot better than this dark cave, but, she committed herself, she may as well see it through. She shuttered at the sights of this dragon's victim, knowing that there would not be any playing around, or surely she would be next. Her brown eyes shifted in the new level of light, allowing her to see better. She wasn't sure of what was coming, but either way, she had to be ready.

Gheneroc was already here. When his eye opened, it looked like Gheneroc was literally part of the wall, the single red eyeball peering at the new vampire. The wingless cave dragon shifted, now revealing himself from the wall of his cave. His skin had finally turned color to the cavern's walls. The immense lizard smelled the air, taking in Anabelle's scent. His gaze, and snout would be pointed at Larewen. "This is the new one?" Gheneroc snorted a bit. About the cave aside from the gore, was a pile of utterly corroded treasure. It may have once been beautiful gold, but now tarnished beyond recognition. Given the way Ghen kept the previous owner's horde, it seemed forgotten in its own corner. His attention drifted back to Anabelle, where he would study her closely. "And how shall you be useful?" Gheneroc asked. His tone was deep, his cadence was always slow and deliberate. For a dragon as old as he did not move without purpose. Larewen came to a halt, perhaps closer to Gheneroc than Annabelle would. "This is," she answered before stepping to the side. The conversation would continue between the two, as far as she was concerned, and Larewen would be content to listen, for now.

Annabelle felt her eyes widen at the size of the dragon before her. She had met dragons before, but never to his size. She found herself speechless. She swallowed nervously and looked up at him, suddenly remembering her reason. "I..." she began, looking a moment at Larewen. "I am here to help build your army... I am a skilled assassin... Though I wouldn't mind training more... my specialty is stealth." She felt her breath catch in her throat. She wasn't sure if she should bow before him or remain standing.

Gheneroc rumbled softly, just as he adjusted his position slightly. He quietly enjoyed Annabelle's shock when she saw him at full size, for the dragons of this era seemed to like to hide as little squishies. "Excellent" he said, with a hint of a roar. "Then you shall bear my Mark." Gheneroc stated this, giving Anabelle a time to react before he would whisper the arcane words in his native dragon tongue before directing the spell right at Annabelle. If she was willing, Gheneroc's Mark would form as a pair of chain links bound together somewhere on Annabelle's body. Larewen bore a similar mark, but the sorceress had a complete Chain. Gheneroc would hold minor influence over Annabelle, but over time the chain would grow. "I cannot train an assassin. Your training must be self-paced."

Annabelle closed her eyes taking in his words. She knew that this would be final. Any form of her history long forgotten would have to deal with this current decision. She felt her heart racing as he began to chant. She kept her voice gentle and low, "As you wish." She slowly raised her arm to see a chain link pair appearing. Her mind flashed back to her questioning Larewen. Now she understood a little better. She had closed her eyes and when they re-opened, they had darkened slightly. "Understood. I'll make sure that my training is diligent and worthy of being in your service." She shifted slightly and her long brown hair swayed as her eyes met his. "This I swear."