Upon a downward spiral

Benedicto

So this continues on from Bene's conversation with Haven seen here in the aftermath of Slyphe reducing every single one of his Order down to OR1. Bene wasn't present when this happened, nor has he had any word from Slyphe. This has affected him profoundly due to Bene's absolute loyalty to Slyphe for roughly three quarters of his life. As a result, he's having a real personal dilemma...

Zhod enters from the northwest, riding a sullen war ram.

Zhod raises his staff before him in wordless greeting with the soft clatter of bone.

Zhod buys a chicken and rice casserole.

Zhod spoons in a mouthful of wild rice, chunks of chicken in each bite.

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says to you, "What brings you here?"

A soft humming momentarily surrounds you, radiating from the Spires of the Citadel.

You have emoted: Benedicto stares blearily at Zhod over the rim of his drink. "What business is it of yours?" He replies bluntly.

Dingy common room of the "Hound and Halberd" Tavern

Hanging up high is a cute and flowery tapestry, an imp depicted in its center. A bar spans one corner of the tavern, painted in bright, eye-catching designs. A wooden trestle table is here, a long wooden bench has been placed at it. A bleak and terrifying tapestry of snarling hounds hangs here. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. A large chest is here, re-purposed from an old keg. A large brick fireplace rests against the eastern wall. A conscripted Spirean soldier coldly scans the area for threats. There are 2 flame-shaped sigils here. An elegant white letter is in danger of being soiled here. Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai is here. He is riding on a sullen war ram. He wields a Shamanic quarterstaff in his hands. You see a sign here instructing you that WARES is the command to see what is for sale.

You see exits leading northwest and down (closed pine door).

You tell Emelle, the Bridge, "Hmp?"

Zhod hops up onto the bar and shrugs his shoulders.

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says, "None at all, I'd say."

A vibrant note echoes through the air, emanating from the central spire. Brief seconds later, a cold gust of wind bellows in, heralding the arrival of dawn's waking breath.

Emelle tells you, "Haven't sensed you in some time."

You have emoted: Benedicto gives a jerky nod and grunts in grudging approval as he tips more alcohol into his mouth. Wiping his lips upon the back of one large, webbed hand, he suddenly leans towards Zhod. "I'll tell you something! I'll tell you something! Don't ever -ever- give your loyalty to anyone. Know why?" He leans back with a slightly pained expression. "Know why? They'll throw it back in your face, that's why."

You tell Emelle, the Bridge, "I've not been awake. Not that it mattered."

With a silent glance around her, a conscripted Spirean soldier brushes off her furs, ice falling to the ground. Tightening her grip on her hammer, she stares forward from her post as she lets out a quiet breath.

Emelle tells you, "--why?"

You tell Emelle, the Bridge, "Have you not heard? My Lord...the almighty Maelstrom...has demoted every single member of his Order. Every. Single. One. Without a word or an acknowledgement. One hundred and fifty years of service down the privy."

Emelle tells you, "What? --no. Ah...I haven't been out, much."

Emelle tells you, "I'm sorry. I...is there anything you need?"

You tell Emelle, the Bridge, "Not unless you can call back one hundred and fifty years of wasted life? Not unless you can explain to me why He did it without so much as an acknowledgement? No. No, there is nothing you can do. Instead I'll sit and drink this...this...booze."

Zhod blinks, realizing he's not drunk enough for this, takes a few drinks of his flagon, "Can't say I've given my loyalty to much of anyone, 'cept some oaths I had to take with the Shaman." He remarks.

Zhod sips from a wooden flagon full of "Liquid Steel". <---- Real man right here.

You have emoted: Slamming his hand down on the bar before him, Benedicto exclaims, "Good lad! Good lad. Know why?" He leans towards Zhod, beckoning him closer. "Do. You. Want. To. Know. WHY?!" He slaps the palm of his hand down on the bar once more. "Because nobody will ever remain loyal to you! You will make an UNHOLY effort and devote nearly all of your life to something, only to have it rendered worthless. Have it SPAT....right...back in your FACE!"

"Seems someone shafted you something sick, Sir." Zhod says with a frown, downing more of his drink.

Emelle tells you, "I...you are not a waste."

Emelle tells you, "But I am not the person to raise your spirits, if that is what you need."

You have emoted: "You could say that. You certainly -could- say that." Benedicto replies ominously, his pearl-white gaze narrowing. "One hundred and fifty years of service down the <toilet>. I gave up family. A life of my own, because I was dedicated to that service annnnd....BANG!" He smashes the bottom of his fist on the bar to emphasize his point. Nearby bottles and glasses tinkle, wobble and rattle with the force of the blow. "Your service is rendered worthless. Do you find out why?! No. No you do NOT!"

You tell Emelle, the Bridge, "Why are you not the right person? Perhaps you are. I don't know. I have some young fellow keeping me company at the moment. He seems to be consuming an inordinate amount of alcohol."

Emelle tells you, "Because I am not much better off than you, just now."

Emelle tells you, "His name isn't Edain, is it?"

You tell Emelle, the Bridge, "No...some shaman. Haven't got his name yet."

Emelle tells you, "Mm. Good."

A clockwork messenger bat flits in from above and begins flapping around.

A clockwork messenger bat chirps happily at you.

A clockwork messenger bat flies suddenly out of the room.

Zhod tilts his head curiously.

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says, "Who's bat?"

You have emoted: Benedicto rolls his shoulders in an uncaring shrug. "Who cares?" He tilts his head back to pour more alcohol into his mouth. Swallowing noisily he replies, "I'm certainly learning not to care anymore. Just end up..." He pauses and stares into his cup. "...disappointed." He finally mumbles.

Phoenecia ripples into existence before you.

You have emoted: Benedicto raises his cup in a sarcastic salutation to Phoenecia. "Here's another one of the BETRAYED!" He yells loudly and with forced joviality. "Come Phoe, come join me and the Shaman boy here." He directs a slightly bleary stare at Zhod. "What's your name again boy?" He grunts and gives a soft snort of drunken amusement. "Not that it matters."

Phoenecia tilts her head curiously at you.

Zhod says, "Zhod Xyn'tai." before returning to his drink.

You have emoted: "Zhod. Zhod Shine-a-light. Zhod Shine-a-tie." Benedicto gives a mock-solemn nod of acknowledgement towards Zhod. "Well met Zhod. This lovely, aloof lady here is Phoenecia. One of my fellow Slyphians. Or 'The Betrayed' as I like to call them these days." He spreads his arms in a magnanimous gesture of welcome towards Phoenecia. "Phoenecia, this is Zhod. A fellow patron of this -- and I use this in the loosest possible sense of the word -- establishment."

Torvin arrives from the northwest.

Torvin leaves to the northwest. <--- Took one look and thought "Ain't nobody got time for that."

Phoenecia signs: Why are you calling us the Betrayed? Why are you so upset? First Locke, now you. Also why are you up here in Spinesreach in the first place? This is rather far to go and get a drink... If this is about everything that's happened in the order, I suppose there's some explanation warranted.

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says, "It has nice casserole."

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says, "And the booze is cheap."

Zhod shrugs helplessly.

Phoenecia inclines her head politely to Zhod.

You have emoted: Benedicto leans forward and squints blearily at  Phoenecia. He grunts as he leans back, his pearl-white gaze focusing on her now. "I'll answer the second question first." He begins quietly. "I gave Lord Slyphe everything. Do you hear me Phoenecia? EVERYTHING!" He curls his hand into a fist and smashes it heavily down upon the bar. It causes an indentation next to a similarly shaped dent, clearly a previous example of his violent punctuation. "One hundred and fifty years of service. I gave up everything. Now my service, my -dedication-,is thrown away without anything so much as an acknowledgement."

Zhod sips the last drops from a wooden flagon with traces of "Liquid Steel".

Meyvitch slinks in from the northwest, his red fur glistening.

Meyvitch stops dead in the doorway, looking about him. He seems quite surprised.

Zhod thinks on that a moment before asking, "What exactly happened, though?"

Phoenecia signs:  You're not the only one who doesn't feel appreciated... If there's anyone you should be mad at, Benedicto, it's me. The 'meeting' I tried to hold resulted in this. As it turns out, most of the 'issues' that I tried to get addressed weren't able to be resolved. Trager and Rashar, as usual, just dismissed everything. Because nothing could be resolved, Lord Slyphe reduced everyone to the same rank in an effort to stop the bickering. And yet, I still feel like Rashar and Trager are running everything. If there's anyone else to be mad at, it's them. They're usually the instigators on most of the order's problems.

Wild eyes distant in concentration, Meyvitch contorts and shrinks, fur falling away as he becomes Azudim once more.

Phoenecia casts a look of concern at you.

You have emoted: "Come one, come all!" Benedicto yells at Meyvitch, raising his glass by way of greeting. "Welcome. Welcome. Don't be shy!" He directs his bleary stare towards Zhod. "Exactly Zhod Shine-a-tie! EXACTLY!" He turns back to Phoenecia. "No. This is on His shoulders. He could have done any number of things. I would probably have even accepted His punishment if He had taken the time to speak with me. But--" He holds his large, webbed hands apart. "-- Nothing."

Shaei begins to intensify slowly until she appears flesh and blood once more.

Zhod closes his eyes, allowing himself to drift off into sleep upon his mount.

You have emoted: Benedicto snorts with amusement at Zhod. "Lightweight."

Meyvitch pads over to the counter, drawing up a stool. His ears flick towards your booming voice, as he gestures for a glass. Eyeing Zhod, he pauses in a request for a drink. Then he walks over to Zhod, attempting to give him a shove off the ram.

Meyvitch peers at Zhod suspiciously.

Fox of the Rhythm, Meyvitch Qefin-Yaslana says, "Is it anything like cow-tipping to tip a soldier?"

Zhod opens his eyes and stretches languidly, a smile on his face.

Meyvitch shakes his head and backs away; Zhod's apparently glued his seat to the ram's back.

Meyvitch gets some gold sovereigns from a rugged outdoorsman's rucksack.

Meyvitch buys a battered iron cup full of "The King's Ruin" cocktail.

Phoenecia signs: Then take it up with Him? I intend to as soon as I'm able, but I've not heard much. Seems Rashar and Trager always seem to receive the most attention while the rest of us get left in the dark. I've been meaning to talk to the other order members to see if that's the case. I'm not satisfied with the way things have been, and I refuse to give up. I...don't really have anyplace else, and His ways are the only ones that seem to suit me.

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says, "'pologies figured I'd stop yawning durin' your woeful tale, Sir. What did you do to cause the removal?"

Meyvitch walks back over to the counter to collect his drink. He slaps down some gold in front of the irritated bartender gesturing impatiently to him.

Meyvitch raises an eyebrow at you.

You have emoted: With a slight shrug, Benedicto watches Meyvitch as he moves towards Zhod. "I suppose it would be." He says in inebriated amusement. "No need to apologize, young man!" He replies to Zhod this time, "It was not a -removal- it was a shaming. My Lord saw fit to reduce everyone down to the lowest level of the our Order. I was His Avatar. The head of His Order. A position I have occupied for one hundred and fifty years almost."

Phoenecia signs: I'm not happy with the way things are. I want them to change, and I'm going to do whatever I can to get it to change. Even take it by force, if I need to. I don't respect or like Rashar and Trager. I don't like how they always belittle the rest of us and make themselves out to be the paragons of the Maelstrom's ways when they don't respect us enough to care whether their actions against a fellow order member will have negative repercussions against the rest of us.

Fox of the Rhythm, Meyvitch Qefin-Yaslana asks you, "Why?"

Phoenecia signs: If you're so dissatisfied, Benedicto, don't just lie down and take it. Fight back. Do SOMETHING about it instead of sitting here and being depressed. You're not going to get anything done that way.

Phoenecia pokes at you.

You have emoted: Benedicto holds his hands apart helplessly as he addresses Meyvitch. "My point exactly. My -point- EXACTLY!" His gaze flits back to Phoenecia as he states bitterly, "Do SOMETHING you say? My Lord does not hear me now. He has Rashar and Trager for that. He would rather spend time on His island."

Phoenecia signs: I have your back. Don't leave me in the order to deal with Rashar and Trager by myself. Haven already seems tempted enough by Iosyne. Call Him the <unicorns> out on the favoritism. If more than one person feels the same, then it's a problem. Talk to others in the order and get their opinion on it. You're not the only one who feels that way.

Snorting into his cup as he lifts it to his lips, you say, "Do something she says. Pfft, I've done everything for Him. I've given my life to Him. I could cover Ezalor in butter and present him on a spit. I could have Bloodloch in smouldering ruins and he would still not hear me."

While fiddling with his tail-charm, Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says, "I've learned that people notice a whole lot faster when you poke them in the eye than when you do something nice."

Phoenecia signs: Then do something to get His attention. Something that CAN'T be ignored. Your son is His priest. Perhaps use it as leverage. All you're doing is just sitting here complaining. Call Him out on favoring Rashar and Trager. If you don't, I will, and I will NOT be nice about it. I already have so little left. The order is all I have.

Fox of the Rhythm, Meyvitch Qefin-Yaslana says, "I wouldn't mind Ezalor buttered and roasted on a spit."

Xenia arrives from the northwest.

Toz gives Xenia a respectful salute. <-- Not sure when Toz turned up. Sneaky sneaky!

Straightening into rigid, militant attention, Xenia squares her shoulders and crisply salutes Toz.

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says to Fox of the Rhythm, Meyvitch Qefin-Yaslana, "I don't think he'd taste all that good."

You have emoted: Benedicto takes a deep quaff of his drink and slams it down on the bar. "Well. As much as I enjoy whiling away my time with all you fine folks, I need to go to my rest." He belches with seeming disregard for you all, or his manners. "Not that I'll be missed."  He mumbles as he lumbers forwards towards Phoenecia. He props himself up by grasping her shoulder at the last moment. "Then you do that Phoenecia." He drawls nastily. "You do that. Me? I've done my slaving. I've done my sacrificing. All I want is an explanation and I really do -not- think. No sir. I do -NOT- think that it is too much to ask for."

Upon saluting Toz, Xenia halts at the door, eying his company warily, "Am I interrupting?" she asks.

Zhod shakes his head at Xenia.

You have emoted: Looking around at you all, Benedicto bows low from his waist. The action is clearly intended to be sarcastic and is highly unsteady due to his inebriation. "One and all. A good night to all and to all....a good night."

Phoenecia signs: If you feel that way, and aren't going to do anything about it, why not just leave? You already seem set on it. I refuse to give up until all other options are exhausted. Unlike you.

Beyam Zhod Xyn'tai says to Ser Xenia of the Steel, "I came for the casseroles, I stayed for the drunken Yeleni."

Toz shakes his head at Xenia, informing her, "I am simply here to observe what seems to be a mental breakdown." His hands clasp behind his back and he adds, "Though the Commander will be pleased her booze has sold so well."

Xenia steps away from the way, allowing a clear path for you, offering the man but a nod of recognition.

You have emoted: Benedicto waves away Phoenecia as he staggers unsteadily towards the door. "Blah blah Yeleni. Blah blah mental break down." He mutters as he weaves his way between you all.

Moirean

Rashar

Sweet read, man. 

I have to say it went almost 100% the way I predicted when I saw you sitting up there with Phoenecia. Somewhat sad, but not entirely unexpected. Ah, well.

Let's actually do some RP sometime. I feel like I'm missing out.

Benedicto

Rashar said:

 Somewhat sad, but not entirely unexpected. Ah, well.

How do you mean?

Also, I'm really struggling to find time to get on the game at present so I basically RP with whomever is around at the time. Zhod was the unfortunate victim in this circumstance.

Rashar

Eh, not something I'm going to drill into on your RP log thread, man.

Aishia

All hail the turtle lord.

Lin

This made for a fun read. Benedicto's dialogue is fantastic, from the made-up singsong names for Zhod to musings like "covering Ezalor in butter and serving him on a spit". Also the OOC commentary was pretty amusing (looked at that and said ain't no one got time for that, etc.). I wonder what the hell's going on! It'd be sad to see you guys leave the Order.

Benedicto

Lin said:

This made for a fun read. Benedicto's dialogue is fantastic, from the made-up singsong names for Zhod to musings like "covering Ezalor in butter and serving him on a spit". Also the OOC commentary was pretty amusing (looked at that and said ain't no one got time for that, etc.). I wonder what the hell's going on! It'd be sad to see you guys leave the Order.

/fangirlsquee