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Hanging up a redecorated Zsarachnor: a festive, if grisly occasion
Context:
After Ayuna's ascension and transformation into a Nocturn, Elene sought out the Malevolent for what she was interested in procuring: a piece of Zsarachnor for study. The next week, Iosyne returned a response to Elene, which is as follows below:
----------------------------------
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "An interesting request, albeit a foolish one."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "Why is it You would deem it a foolish request, Malevolent?"
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Do you so desire to wander the realms as a mindless, broken thing? My Sister may not be very enthused if I were to indulge you."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "I seek not to be like Zsarachnor, whole in body but broken in spirit and mind. I am aware that my resilience against the curse is non-existent. I am neither of the Blood nor do I practice Your realm to a keen point to be able to withstand the curse. It is not a personal curiosity I am striving to assauage, but a Guild's. Inspection of the origin is too alluring not to pursue."
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Even cursory handling would bring the risk of annihilation of who you are. This is curiosity best left unsated."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "Cursory handling would bring risk of annihilation?" There is a thoughtful pause as the woman considers, slowly, carefully, seriously. "The barrier of shadow that was erected within the Black Keep; was it due to its presence that airborne exposure of Zsarachnor's blood to the crowd was minimised then?"
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Perhaps. Perhaps his attention was not directed upon you. Perhaps it was simply good fortune. It is not a risk you should be so eager to take."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "I will heed Your advice, Malevolent." Regret layers her words, though it quickly recedes in favour of polite deference. "The bottomless pit of indulgence, left unchecked, can indeed prove dangerous in mortals. If only there were other options, I would have pursued its acquisition as well."
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Well, there are other options. My General showed the path to such."
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "I will not suffer this worm to find his way to return. He shall be strung from the Black Gates. Right about now, in fact."
[Ooh. Intrigue. Let's travel to the Black Keep.]
The Black Gates.
The immensely tall wrought iron gates bear strange, grotesque designs that depict the dreaded Llazuth, Queen of Spiders, leading her armies to victory. The gates are firmly closed, though a single iron chain hangs beside them. Following the length of the chain, one can make out a large silver bell above the gates, used to alert the gatekeeper should one wish entry within the Black Keep. A long chain attached to a bell hangs here. The Black Gates rise here, impenetrable and menacing. An arachnid Chiav strider is here, its humanoid half wielding a poison-tipped spear. The monstrous half-woman, half-spider form of Iosyne, the Malevolent is here.
You see exits leading east and west.
Elene dips her head briefly, acknowledging Iosyne with respect before tilting her chin up, glancing at the Black Gates.
(Bloodloch): Teotl says, "Greetings, Progenitor."
(Bloodloch): Galilei says, "Progenitor...? Ah - Greetings."
(Bloodloch): Teotl says, "Er, Your Imperial Majesty."
Her voice a thoughtful caress, Elene speaks, "Were I to achieve what your General did, the curse is perhaps not something I would reach for. It would be a reach for the Immortal Number, another indulgent desire perhaps." Her ichored lips curve after the comment. Her scarred hands rise, fingers entwining around each other as she drapes them before her, staying still.
The following citizens of Bloodloch are in the realm:
Citizen Rank Class Position [CT?]
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Abhorash Progenitor
...
Indulgence seems to be on Iosyne's mind, a wicked smile plastering Her features as She, too, surveys the Gates. "Foolish of Me to assume a collapse of the mines would hold such a creature."
"You were otherwise engaged with thoughts of far more priority, Malevolent," Elene speaks, her silvery hair falling messily across one shoulder. Then, she swivels her singular gaze back down and towards Iosyne.
"Flatterer," Iosyne accuses. "None would know better how to contain such a thing than -". A pause, as the Malevolent's ruined gaze cants upwards, a slight frown drawing Her brows down.
Drawn by the sudden pause in speech from Iosyne, Elene's attention sharpens. Dwelling right beneath the archway bearing the Black Gates, she offers a word in simple query, "Malevolent?"
I wonder if She's going to wrap Zsarachnor in Her web once more, to hang the corpse from the Black Gates. But it is dangerous, isn't it- if Someone desires to utilise his body once more.
(Bloodloch): Iosyne says, "Progenitor. A word."
(Bloodloch): Abhorash says, "I am not at your beck and call."
(Bloodloch): Iosyne says, "No. But you will find this of interest."
(Bloodloch): Galilei says, "Lady Malevolent."
Your attention gravitates to the commanding presence of Progenitor Abhorash as he enters from the ether.
Stepping politely away from Iosyne, Elene gives Abhorash the command of attention as she lingers by the side of the Black Gates. One hand splits away from the other, tucking her silvery hair behind an ear.
Abhorash:
He is a powerful Azudim vampire and stands at a moderate height, pale as snow and with a slender, powerful frame. Although he is mostly Human in appearance, a few things serve to distinguish his true Azudim nature. His thin fingers end in long, vicious claws, and deadly fangs curl over his lips, which are generally given to a derisive sneer. His face seems as if it has been carved from marble - high cheekbones, a powerful jawline, and a long nose define his visage, and his glacier blue eyes sit beneath his tall brow. His blonde hair, cropped short, has been swept back from his face and parted at the middle. Translucent strands of spiderweb periodically weave around his form, empowering him with Iosyne's blessing.
(a slender, draping bow at its side) : a midnight-blue brocade waistcoat
(creaseless and smart) : dove-grey formal trousers
(snugly fitted) : a simple black linen dress shirt
(knotted flawlessly about the neck) : a smoke-hued silk cravat stenciled in ebony
(laced to the knees) : armoured leather boots
Abhorash's dominating presence arrives, unblinking blue eyes surveying the immediate surroundings. You are dismissed summarily, while the massive Gates elicit little beyond a sneer. "Hardly of interest."
Elene's withered tongue escapes from the confines of her mouth, wetting her ichored lips as she gazes at Abhorash. They curve in an unspoken taunt, a quiet sneer at the reveal arrogance, that the Black Gates would be the topic of true interest. Uncowed by the presence of Immortal and Progenitor, she remains quiet, curious, almost.. eager.
In response, lashes of shadow haze escape from Iosyne. They congeal at a point before the feet of Abhorash, creating a pond that soon dissipates, leaving behind the broken form of Zsarachnor.
The Black Gates.
The immensely tall wrought iron gates bear strange, grotesque designs that depict the dreaded Llazuth, Queen of Spiders, leading her armies to victory. The gates are firmly closed, though a single iron chain hangs beside them. Following the length of the chain, one can make out a large silver bell above the gates, used to alert the gatekeeper should one wish entry within the Black Keep. A long chain attached to a bell hangs here. The Black Gates rise here, impenetrable and menacing. Zsarachnor's defeated body is dumped unceremoniously on the ground, a jutting lance of shadow and bone protruding from his eyesocket.The monstrous half-woman, half-spider form of Iosyne, the Malevolent is here. The imperious presence of Abhorash dominates the room here.
You see exits leading east and west.
You can see the following 3 objects:
"chain37581" a long chain.
"gates72029" the Black Gates.
"Zsarachnor17086" The impaled form of Zsarachnor.
Zsarachnor:
The appearance of the impaled form of Zsarachnor does draw reaction from Abhorash- his sneer deepens further, now dominating his face. "An odd play thing for You."
Iosyne's attention pulls to something unseen. "Manners. Reveal yourself if you wish to remain in the hospitality of the Keep."
Interest gleams in the singular eye of Elene as she strays from her post next to the Black Gates. Bare feet patters over to The impaled form of Zsarachnor, amusement flickering briefly past her features as she stares at the jutting lance that protrudes from the eyesocket, where the former Vampire Lord was struck by his opponent. There seems to be an invisible line drawn between corpse and mortal, though whether it is Immortal-drawn or simply out of manners that she does not intrude.
Saidenn arrives from the west.
The phased intruder receives as little of Abhorash's attention as you did. His hard stare rises from the hapless victim to settle upon Iosyne, a single condescending arch of his brow gracing the Goddess. "Surely You did not call for me just to show off a trinket?"
Aethir ripples into existence before you.
Aethir inclines his head politely to Abhorash.
Saidenn pads toward the Black Gates, his steps silent if not for the soft chime of metal and gems accompanying his movements. His stormy eyes land upon Iosyne, then Abhorash, his head dipping forward in a respectful nod as his ears fold back. He then moves to stand near you silently, his attention drifting toward The impaled form of Zsarachnor.
Iosyne looms over Her prize, licking Her lips as She meets Abhorash's blue stare with Her own gouged eyes. "I buried him once. But it was not enough to destroy his mist, apparently." She cants Her head to one side before Her attention slides down to the impaled vampire. "I require an alternative."
Abhorash acknowledges the words with the faintest of nods. He allows silence to reign, motionless. After a long moment, he speaks. "Quite the predicament. For You," he offers unhelpfully.
Elene follows the gaze back down to the 'trinket' in question, in that being the impaled form of Zsarachnor unceremniously decorating the ground before Abhorash's feet. The gossamers of the woman's gown flutter quietly with each movement as she bends her knees, bringing herself closer to the ground at the rare opportunity for closer inspection.
"So a form of stasis in which his mist is rendered inert, then?" Saidenn asks after a moment, his rumble carrying through the air, "I mean, is that what you seek, Malevolent?" He inquires with a look toward Iosyne.
Iosyne is unperturbed by the long stretch of silence. Her head tilts further, gleaning Abhorash's intent. "Something a little more...fun," the Malevolent responds to Saidenn. Though no direct acknowledgement follows, Her spindly legs twist with your movements, impeding access to the torn vampire. "I will offer a favour from Mine for your assistance."
Abhorash's sneer makes its return, a hand slashing through the air in arrogant dismissal. "What could they possibly offer?"
Saidenn nods his head slowly, his bifurcated gaze sweeping toward you at the motion. He stays where he is, studying the impaled corpse from afar, "The Archivium contains its own number of dangerous relics, organisms, or... corpses, in this case, Progenitor," He purrs, then gazing toward Iosyne, "Perhaps You would see him suffer eternally?" He asks, "I am still catching up with all of the events that lead to his rising, but what is to say he cannot remain... conscious and suffering while contained?"
In response, Iosyne reaches down, seizing the protruding lance. She gives it a vigorous shake, sending Zsarachnor's impaled body sliding horrifically up and down. "This was not My work. Do not underestimate the value of Mine, Progenitor."
A barely conscious groan of pain escapes from the pitiful form of Zsarachnor as it squelches along its imprisonment.
Elene sniffs loudly, bringing her hands away from the impaled form of Zsarachnor as she rises to her feet. A blossoming smile is elicited upon her ichored lips as she pulls her hands to her chest, but steps away from the slain Vampire Lord, understanding Iosyne's obstructing intent. Her attention then turns to Abhorash, her chin dipping as she murmurs, "Well, if you're not going to offer anything, Progenitor, then why should we not try offering something else that will interest the Goddess than you?"
For the first time, you do draw the full crushing weight of Abhorash's attention, unblinking blue eyes narrowing as he shifts his neck - just barely - to regard you. "As if you had the means," he says contemptuously.
Saidenn closes his eyes a moment, his lips moving with little sound. When they do open again, his brow stays furrowed as if attempting to recall something. The sound of from the corpse gets his ears to twitch. your words earn a twist of his maw, "Blood curse. Yrtez. Clearly not destroyed, not even before, but nearly so." The lilt to his tone is one being spoken to no one in particular. At Abhorash's words and regard of you, he steps in closer to the latter. "We will find a way, which appears to be more than you are doing, Progenitor." He rumbles politely, despite his words, "Unless you wish to see a twisted example of what can become of the Blooded put on display for any, and all, to see."
Indifferent to the crushing weight of Abhorash's attention, Elene remains standing though she sways in the spot. Her arms fall from her chest, fingers clutching the hem of her robes in little fists even as a soft tinkling of laughter echoes forth from the woman. Barely giving him any deserved respect, she settles her singular-eyed attention upon the impaled form of Zsarachnor.
Quickly turning his attention away from Abhorash to Elene, Saidenn says, "So, thoughts, Belletrist?"
The momentary spar draws no response from Iosyne. Indeed, the Goddess settles to idly playing with the lance held in Her hands, twisting it and watching the resulting spinning pirouettes from its trapped guest.
Quietly, her voice strained in focus - or othersie - as she chooses her words, you say, "Geometrical confines, transformed from two-dimensional influence to three-dimensional outreach. Tweaking of the Spheres as the skeins of each number intertwine and combine to keep motes of vampiric mist parted, unable to coalesce into a whole. Lilein's knowledge of vampire physiology."
You say, "Possible, Architect. We just need time- but that is for the Malevolent to decide, while She keeps Zsarachnor's ruined vessel by Her side."
Saidenn says, "The exclusion of Yuef from within the confines. Removal of the singularity confounds the ability to coalesce the self. Inclusion of the Lemniscate to ensure indefinite suspension and suffering. Perhaps... a nudge of Ef'tig to increase the agony of separation?"
Abhorash dismisses the discussion, turning back to Iosyne. "I will indulge You. For the price offered." A few steps ring out as he steps closer to study the fallen abomination. "Bind him. His curse will remain dormant for now."
Saidenn just thought:
The Archivium will find its place again. Such a waste of talent and resources due to mismanagement. More to learn, more to know.
No hint of appropriate material is about Iosyne's arachnid form. She stops spinning Zsarachnor as She ponders the situation.
Settling upon inspiration, Iosyne promptly plunges a spindly leg into the gut of Zsarachnor, easily shearing through blackened armour and pale flesh to open a gaping wound. She gives the lance a shake, causing entrails and intestines to spill forth from the opened hole.
Saidenn looks toward Abhorash with his storm-laden eyes, then to the impaled corpse and finally to the Goddess, Herself. "Perhaps a collaboration, in the end." He offers toward Iosyne. "His curse will remain dormant for now, but there is not a promise for the future." He takes a few steps forward, standing closer to the towering arachnid form, "Give the Archivium the time and means to find a permanent solution to the curse so it need not be an iss-" He pauses as he watches the leg rise and fall, then down to the offal from within the corpse, his nostrils flaring at the scent of it as his eyes look back up toward Iosyne in curiosity.
Iosyne takes an obliging step back from the mess at - and caused by - Her feet. She opens Her arms invitingly to the gathered, offering a role in the gruesome proceedings.
Elene blinks once, staring at the abrupt movement of the half-woman, half-spider Immortal as a spindly leg razes through the gut of the defeated Vampire Lord. The edges of her ichored lips twist in amusement despite the dissection of a situation. She takes a side-step as entrails and intestines fall from the gory wound, keeping a wary distance away from the flying organs but then seems to freeze after making that movement, as if drawn back by her curiosity.
"Is it... safe?" Elene asks, her singular eye burning brightly.
Abhorash casts another gaze of contempt at you, though he does not repeat his reassurance.
"One can never be too careful, Progenitor." There is a dip of Elene's head in Abhorash's direction, the faint shadow of a smirk slithering across her features. She takes the time to prepare her tools, digging through her belongings to weaponise herself with an athame, her tool of choice.
You pull a delicate, spiral-etched athame from your weaponbelt fluidly.
You start to wield a delicate, spiral-etched athame in your left hand.
"Oh, I'll want an eye."
"...If they're not entirely ruined yet."
Saidenn's ears tilt toward you in a soft peal of silver, his tail flicking back and forth rapidly. The question asked and silently answered (or not) gets him to once more breath in the scent of the disemboweled offering. Rather than wait for another, he reaches upward toward the torn corpse and, with claws unsheathed, rips away a section of intestine, bringing it toward his maw with a sniff, before tearing away a small portion with his canines, remembering his last visit with the arachnid Divine and Her offerings from Her table.
Iosyne gives the meat pinata one last shake, drawing forth more innards before She releases the lance, allowing you, Saidenn, and Aethir to contribute as they might desire. She quickly lashes out, slapping the intestine out of Saidenn's hand before it makes its way to his mouth. "Bind, not eat. That curse will not remain dormant forever."
A smirk of amusement ghosts Abhorash's lips at Saidenn's movements. It vanishes quickly, however, at the Malevolent's intervention. He almost looks disappointed.
Ayukazi arrives from the west.
Making a circle around the strewn organs about the impaled form of Zsarachnor, Elene closes in once more, the hem of her gown brushing lightly against the squelching innards. The woman clears her throat, keeping her countenance measured as she throws a glance down Saidenn's way, watching the flying section of intestines slapped away by Iosyne onto the ground. With a rolling shrug of her shoulders, she resumes the fulfillment of her own intent, a delicate, spiral-etched athame already carving a smooth line up the neck of the vampire meat sack. The tip trails along the jawline, before slicing off an ear, which she deftly palms out of view.
The vague image of an entwined venantium locket appears in the air, before Rhyot appears in a flash of magic.
He is followed by a disease-ridden direwolf.
Rhyot inclines his head politely to those around him.
"Since we're assisting You with the action of binding, Malevolent," Elene asks, as she continues to work. "Would You clarify how we are contributing by dismembering Zsarachnor?"
Iosyne beams at Ayukazi as Her General arrives, gesturing at the impaled form of Zsarachnor. Entrails gush forth from a wound in the broken vampire's gut, forming a gruesome pool around him. "We are binding him. With...himself." To demonstrate, the Malevolent picks up a strand of intestine, separating it to create makeshift manacles around the vampire's wrists.
Rhyot inclines his head politely to Abhorash.
Ayukazi walks in, noting those in attendance. She inclines to Abhorash, then to Iosyne, shadows writhing around her newfound form. Stalking up to the impaled form of Zsarachnor, her eyes glow with a vibrant crimson light as she finds her place at her Godess's side amidst the viscera. "No regality in that vampire. I had expected more of a Consanguine's demeanor."
Direct action seemingly beneath him, Abhorash simply watches, a somewhat exasperated frown on his face at your useless work.
"Ah, I should have figured," comes Elene's faint voice. She tilts her head as she withdraws a delicate, spiral-etched athame from the impaled form of Zsarachnor then, frowning thoughtfully as she muses, "I have been going down the wrong methodology then." Stowing the blade away, she frees up her hands before raking scarred fingers through her scalp. She shifts her body now, before sinking one arm directly into the exposed cavity of the unfortunate meat sack.
That comment elicits a stir from Abhorash. "He is not Consanguine," the Progenitor says softly.
Saidenn's eyes regain some focus after the slap, his nostrils expanding for a moment and then seeming to settle. "Yes, of course." He purrs, his tail lashing behind him and his claws flexing at the air. He watches you go about you business, his eyes narrowing a moment before he listens to the question. The explanation earns a slow nod, even as he acknowledges Ayukazi and Rhyot with the same. "I see." He says slowly, even as he follows Iosyne's example, selecting a trail of innards to wrap them about the corpse's ankles.
Ayukazi glances over at the Progenitor. "Noted."
Zsarachnor thrashes as he is desecrated, his insides fashioned into bindings for his outsides.
Rhyot shakes his head, before nodding towards Abhorash. "He never was. As I had mentioned previously, he was an Abomination and made corrupted." Looking towards Ayukazi, "We are Consanguine."
Ayukazi takes a look at the bloody work around her. Having found a distaste of the corpse ahead of her, she keeps her claws clean this time and wills her shadows to grab innards, binding them tightly about the wreckage of a corpse in unison of those about her.
Elene fishes out a particularly long entrail, tugging upon one free end before utilising it as a garland around Zsarachnor's neck. Ensuring that she has enough length for the deed, she loops it twice around the head before connecting the intestines down to the living corpse's hands. Unfortunately, it seems she has run out of leeway to work with, and a bulging knot is all she can muster instead of the bow she intended to form. She leans over the impaled form of Zsarachnor, examining the cavity.
Rhyot ponders a moment as he looks at his hands, the runes upon his skin lighting up. "You know what else sounds interesting while you're tying him up?" He looks towards Iosyne, Abhorash, and Ayukazi before looking at Zsarachnor. "Given my training as a Bloodborn, trapping him inside a nightmare like dreamstate for all eternity witnessing the same fight over and over of him losing to Ayukazi. Pain means nothing to an abomination, but mentally breaking him... that's something altogether different."
Saidenn makes no effort to keep his paws or the surrounding fur clean of blood or gore after he finishes tying the ankles of the impaled form of Zsarachnor. He watches you work after he finishes, then up to the the creature's face, listening to Rhyot, "Perhaps removal of his one good eye and his tongue may aid in his torment," He suggests, noting little remains of the viscera, in the moment, to use to bind the body further.
Apparently satisfied with the grunt work, Abhorash now steps forward himself, waving the assemblage away from the mutilated prisoner.
Ayukazi steps to Iosyne's side, intoning, "Mind took a bit to wake. I hope I didn't miss too much fun."
One arm bloodied to the elbow, Elene seems done with her side of the work. "By the Goddesses and Gods, I've made such a mess." She rises to her feet now, that sanguine-washed hand and their fingers still curled into a fist as she steps away. It is a fluid motion, though unintended, her departure from the side of the impaled form of Zsarachnor making enough room for Abhorash to step into the space for his own work.
"I promised the Progenitor a favour from Mine in return for his assistance," Iosyne remarks to Ayukazi, Her utterly casual tone portraying nothing of the weight of such an obligation.
Saidenn mirrors your action in stepping back, some excess vitae matting the fur upon his chest apart from that on his paws and wrists. He looks toward the mess upon you, then watches Abhorash with interest.
Ayukazi turns her head imperceptibly towards Iosyne, noting the words carefully. Her shadow-formed wings expand, flicking once to leave shadows stirring in the room rhythmically like churning tides. "Might I ask what favour?"
"That is for him to decide," Iosyne says, adding more weight to the obligation.
Ayukazi simply nods.
Ayukazi just thought:
Another task. So be it. Nothing is impossible.
Abhorash seizes Zsarachnor by the throat. The force of the Progenitor's presence seems to finally draw Zsarachnor into consciousness, an animalistic screech of fear gurgling through broken lips. As Abhorash lifts the prisoner into the air, the viscera chaining Zsarachnor glows and hardens, forming impenetrable bonds of cruel strength.
In an oddly good mood, Elene tosses her hair behind her back with a toss of her head. Her tongue strays from her mouth to taste the air and she raises both arms from her side, the cleaner hand curling over the crimson-washed one. Pale, blood-leeched flesh is hidden beneath curled fingers as she watches Abhorash intently, the conversation between Ayukazi and Iosyne rising faintly in the background.
Abhorash places a hand in front of Zsarachnor's face. Horribly, wisps of blood begin seeping out of the defeated vampire's every pore, congealing into a globe atop Abhorash's palm. Even as it gathers, the sphere of blood darkens, settling into black. The Progenitor hands the bound vampire to Iosyne.
Iosyne immediately passes Zsarachnor to Ayukazi. "Do the honours."
Rhyot shrugs his shoulders before watching the show of strength before him, making the runes upon his skin dim. He glances to you and shakes his head, not saying a single word.
Saidenn watches silently, his tail swaying behind him slowly. His stormy eyes take in the motions from Abhorash, the chains, as well as the sphere of blood. He remains unblinking through all of this, now gazing upon the dessicated corpse and Ayukazi.
Enraptured by Abhorash's precise management with Zsarachnor's blood, Elene takes an unwitting step towards him. The darkening of the sphere draws further attention, and a frown upon her features as she lets loose a question in a soft sibilant tone. "That. What did you do to the drawn blood, Progenitor?"
Ayukazi nods at the suggestion, flapping her wings to raise herself steadily to the top of the Black Gates. Taking a moment to look at the impaled form of Zsarachnor, her lip twitches. Veins ignite, leaving her form in a blood-traced glow as she takes the spear hanging from the vampire corpse's eye and impales it to the ceiling. Watching the body dangle like a well adorned trophy ornament, she nods once again, calling shadows under her feet to allow her to lower to the ground gracefully. "A reminder."
Abhorash does not design to answer you. He simply releases the globe, watching as it hangs suspended in the air for a moment before rushing back to its originator. The sphere settles above the head of the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor in a boiling mass. Occasional droplets fall from the sphere, landing upon the trapped vampire's head with an awful hiss. When these droplets hit, Zsarachnor unleashes a tortured scream of excruciating agony, thrashing against his restraints. "That will hold him. I will be in touch to collect my due."
A chill leaves the air as Progenitor Abhorash departs to the ether.
Fanning an etched lithograph slide by the side as awareness has momentarily fallen upon the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor and Ayukazi, Elene takes her moment to capture the event, even while her question to Abhorash hangs in the air, left unanswered. Her lips are twisted into a neutral line upon her features, depicting no emotion save for curiosity. "Hmph."
Zsarachnor, description changed:
Saidenn folds his arms around his midsection, paws hanging onto his elbows as the chained creature is situated in his 'permanent' prison. He listens to the hiss from the droplets, his eyes studying the binding from afar before looking toward the ground, his ears folding back and his brow furrowing.
The decoration complete, tendrils of shadow haze roll off Iosyne. Each whips about the occupants of the room, enveloping the remnants of Zsarachnor's blood and bits still upon the Malevolent's helpers, whisking them away off into the depths. Without looking at you, the Malevolent extends an expectant hand at you.
The Black Gates.
The immensely tall wrought iron gates bear strange, grotesque designs that depict the dreaded Llazuth, Queen of Spiders, leading her armies to victory. The gates are firmly closed, though a single iron chain hangs beside them. Following the length of the chain, one can make out a large silver bell above the gates, used to alert the gatekeeper should one wish entry within the Black Keep. A long chain attached to a bell hangs here. The Black Gates rise here, impenetrable and menacing. Zsarachnor's entrails spill out from his ruined gut, wrapping about his body as gruesome chains. The defeated vampire hangs atop the Black Gates, serving as its crowning feature attached by a broken length of lance running through one ruined eye. Flies hover around a disease-ridden direwolf that prowls here. Aethir Cardinalis is here, shrouded. He wields a buckler in his left hand and an iron-tipped whip in his right. Saidenn is here. He wields a small codex in his left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in his right. The monstrous half-woman, half-spider form of Iosyne, the Malevolent is here. Lady Ayukazi Vyktaire, Iosyne's General is here. She wields a Delosian bastard sword in her hands. "Shadowlord" Rhyot Vyktaire, Warlord of Chaos is here. He wields a long-staffed glaive in his hands.
You see exits leading east and west.
Galilei enters from the east.
Ayukazi gazes at you, calculative glowing crimson eyes watching her movements as if just as expectant as Iosyne. "I believe you have something of Hers."
"Nothing quite escapes Your discerning eye...s, does it, Malevolent?" Elene murmurs, her voice a soft, silken caress. She crooks her head to one side as she clutches the pale, blood-leeched remnants of Zsarachnor's ear against her chest, appearing almost reluctant to part with her newly-acquired trophy. "I know, I know. It's not safe," she sniffs.
Galilei just thought:
Well, that is either disgustingly excessive or befitting of one called 'Zsarachnor.'
Ayukazi just thought:
It's not yours to claim.
Rhyot shakes his head, "If you knew it wasn't safe, then why try to take a piece in the first place."
"Elene," Iosyne chides, as if scolding a toddler. Her expectant hand remains outstretched, awaiting the transfer from your possession to Hers.
"Our mission asks us to study that which is not safe, to ensure that should the worst occur, we may prevent a catastrophe in the future." Saidenn answers toward Rhyot, watching Iosyne and you, "Although, in these cases, we would prefer to obtain these specimens cooperatively."
Fingers unentwining about each other, Elene stretches out a hand, unfurling her fist to reveal the severed ear that she earlier retrieved from the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor. "High risk begets high rewards," the woman answers Rhyot. "If the Archivium is capable of handling a sample of the Bloom, nothing is out of our reach." The gossamers of her gown flutters slightly as she gives a faint shrug of her shoulders. She patters over to Iosyne, before presenting the appendage to Her. "This is Yours, Malevolent."
Rhyot looks to Saidenn, his red eyes glowing brightly before he looks away. "Sounds like an excuse to study things that which should left be untouched and left to the remnants of time."
"Keeper, I daresay the Archivium will find a way to access... this, one way or another," Galilei offers evenly.
"Shadowlord" Rhyot Vyktaire, Warlord of Chaos says, "Case in point, a disease that swept through the entirety of Sapience that changed the very way we make curatives and survived for weeks at a time and yet you hold a sample of it as well. Mmm."
Ayukazi gazes towards Galilei, eyes flickering dangerously. "Perhaps."
Galilei just thought:
I wonder how convincing an argument Lilein could make.
Rhyot tighten the grip upon his glaive, "I would hope they leave this one be."
"From the studies of the past came the foundations of many fortifications of the present, after all," Elene murmurs. "One can even claim that the leylines that eked out its presence upon Sapience should have been left untouched, for it brought about changes to life but also brought the Dreikathi to us."
Iosyne's hand closes around the appendage. She climbs the Black Gate, each leg contorting independently to bring the monstrous arachnid up to the top. The Goddess then places the ear back where it belongs; the restoration does little to improve the appearance of the utterly broken piece crowning the Gates. The discussion draws Her voice, ringing from atop the Gates. "Ask My Nocturn about what the experience of that curse was like. You would not emerge from it intact as she did. That is why he is bound here."
Iosyne warps out of perception, Her monstrous form separating into inky threads of shadow which slither away in different directions.
Saidenn's lips twitch at the corners of his maw, "And how do you know which should remain untouched?" He asks, "Lest we let everything remain buried in the sands of time until we repeat the mistakes of our forebears." He murmurs casually. At the comment toward the Bloom, he exhales, "It is from the Bloom that we provided the mutagen that could be used to cure those infected, lest you forget, Keeper." He explains, "And the sample is necessary to create the mutagen in the future, should it return."
Ayukazi uses Nocturn Nova.
Ayukazi tilts her head back, concentrating as she unleashes his power over blood. Crimson energy crackles throughout Ayukazi's form before a sanguine nova explodes forth in a rolling ring of destruction.
The sanguine nova consumes you, momentarily overwhelming you in its destructive grasp.
Elene tilts her head backwards, giving a last glance at the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor hanging from the top of the Black Gates.
Rhyot waves his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter, ultimately. The Archivum will do what the Archivum does... and when inevitably you find someone among your ranks that utilizes these pieces of powers into something even you cannot control, you will be mocked for your failures and your own downfall."
Saidenn says, "...much as we are, as a whole, by those who say the same of Shadow, hm?"
Ayukazi settles in next to the Chaos Lord. Her arms cross over themselves, shadows cloaking the room further. "Perhaps she wants to be a mindless Thrall."
Galilei has given the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor the briefest of glances since her arrival, which renews every so often and marginally appears less disgusted each time; Ayukazi's comment has a pointed ear flicking toward her direction.
Ayukazi just thought:
If that had happened... all this power could have been his to command.
Galilei just thought:
Better and stronger than any reanimated corpse...
A sizzling droplet falls from the sphere of darkness above the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor's head. As it lands, the broken form of the vampire thrashes in pure agony, helpless against his gruesome bonds. A scream of pure, unimaginable agony erupts from him.
The tortured screams of Zsarachnor echo throughout Azdun, filled with unimaginable agony.
Thoughtfully, you say, "I suppose I can spend every day in a week here at the Black Keep with Zsarachnor. It matters not."
-End-
After Ayuna's ascension and transformation into a Nocturn, Elene sought out the Malevolent for what she was interested in procuring: a piece of Zsarachnor for study. The next week, Iosyne returned a response to Elene, which is as follows below:
----------------------------------
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "An interesting request, albeit a foolish one."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "Why is it You would deem it a foolish request, Malevolent?"
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Do you so desire to wander the realms as a mindless, broken thing? My Sister may not be very enthused if I were to indulge you."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "I seek not to be like Zsarachnor, whole in body but broken in spirit and mind. I am aware that my resilience against the curse is non-existent. I am neither of the Blood nor do I practice Your realm to a keen point to be able to withstand the curse. It is not a personal curiosity I am striving to assauage, but a Guild's. Inspection of the origin is too alluring not to pursue."
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Even cursory handling would bring the risk of annihilation of who you are. This is curiosity best left unsated."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "Cursory handling would bring risk of annihilation?" There is a thoughtful pause as the woman considers, slowly, carefully, seriously. "The barrier of shadow that was erected within the Black Keep; was it due to its presence that airborne exposure of Zsarachnor's blood to the crowd was minimised then?"
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Perhaps. Perhaps his attention was not directed upon you. Perhaps it was simply good fortune. It is not a risk you should be so eager to take."
(Tells): You have a desire to speak to Iosyne and so you impart onto Her via a throaty whisper, "I will heed Your advice, Malevolent." Regret layers her words, though it quickly recedes in favour of polite deference. "The bottomless pit of indulgence, left unchecked, can indeed prove dangerous in mortals. If only there were other options, I would have pursued its acquisition as well."
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "Well, there are other options. My General showed the path to such."
(Tells): Agony wracks you for an instant as Iosyne's words bestow the gift of Pain upon you, "I will not suffer this worm to find his way to return. He shall be strung from the Black Gates. Right about now, in fact."
[Ooh. Intrigue. Let's travel to the Black Keep.]
The Black Gates.
The immensely tall wrought iron gates bear strange, grotesque designs that depict the dreaded Llazuth, Queen of Spiders, leading her armies to victory. The gates are firmly closed, though a single iron chain hangs beside them. Following the length of the chain, one can make out a large silver bell above the gates, used to alert the gatekeeper should one wish entry within the Black Keep. A long chain attached to a bell hangs here. The Black Gates rise here, impenetrable and menacing. An arachnid Chiav strider is here, its humanoid half wielding a poison-tipped spear. The monstrous half-woman, half-spider form of Iosyne, the Malevolent is here.
You see exits leading east and west.
Elene dips her head briefly, acknowledging Iosyne with respect before tilting her chin up, glancing at the Black Gates.
(Bloodloch): Teotl says, "Greetings, Progenitor."
(Bloodloch): Galilei says, "Progenitor...? Ah - Greetings."
(Bloodloch): Teotl says, "Er, Your Imperial Majesty."
Her voice a thoughtful caress, Elene speaks, "Were I to achieve what your General did, the curse is perhaps not something I would reach for. It would be a reach for the Immortal Number, another indulgent desire perhaps." Her ichored lips curve after the comment. Her scarred hands rise, fingers entwining around each other as she drapes them before her, staying still.
The following citizens of Bloodloch are in the realm:
Citizen Rank Class Position [CT?]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Abhorash Progenitor
...
Indulgence seems to be on Iosyne's mind, a wicked smile plastering Her features as She, too, surveys the Gates. "Foolish of Me to assume a collapse of the mines would hold such a creature."
"You were otherwise engaged with thoughts of far more priority, Malevolent," Elene speaks, her silvery hair falling messily across one shoulder. Then, she swivels her singular gaze back down and towards Iosyne.
"Flatterer," Iosyne accuses. "None would know better how to contain such a thing than -". A pause, as the Malevolent's ruined gaze cants upwards, a slight frown drawing Her brows down.
Drawn by the sudden pause in speech from Iosyne, Elene's attention sharpens. Dwelling right beneath the archway bearing the Black Gates, she offers a word in simple query, "Malevolent?"
I wonder if She's going to wrap Zsarachnor in Her web once more, to hang the corpse from the Black Gates. But it is dangerous, isn't it- if Someone desires to utilise his body once more.
(Bloodloch): Iosyne says, "Progenitor. A word."
(Bloodloch): Abhorash says, "I am not at your beck and call."
(Bloodloch): Iosyne says, "No. But you will find this of interest."
(Bloodloch): Galilei says, "Lady Malevolent."
Your attention gravitates to the commanding presence of Progenitor Abhorash as he enters from the ether.
Stepping politely away from Iosyne, Elene gives Abhorash the command of attention as she lingers by the side of the Black Gates. One hand splits away from the other, tucking her silvery hair behind an ear.
Abhorash:
He is a powerful Azudim vampire and stands at a moderate height, pale as snow and with a slender, powerful frame. Although he is mostly Human in appearance, a few things serve to distinguish his true Azudim nature. His thin fingers end in long, vicious claws, and deadly fangs curl over his lips, which are generally given to a derisive sneer. His face seems as if it has been carved from marble - high cheekbones, a powerful jawline, and a long nose define his visage, and his glacier blue eyes sit beneath his tall brow. His blonde hair, cropped short, has been swept back from his face and parted at the middle. Translucent strands of spiderweb periodically weave around his form, empowering him with Iosyne's blessing.
(a slender, draping bow at its side) : a midnight-blue brocade waistcoat
(creaseless and smart) : dove-grey formal trousers
(snugly fitted) : a simple black linen dress shirt
(knotted flawlessly about the neck) : a smoke-hued silk cravat stenciled in ebony
(laced to the knees) : armoured leather boots
Abhorash's dominating presence arrives, unblinking blue eyes surveying the immediate surroundings. You are dismissed summarily, while the massive Gates elicit little beyond a sneer. "Hardly of interest."
Elene's withered tongue escapes from the confines of her mouth, wetting her ichored lips as she gazes at Abhorash. They curve in an unspoken taunt, a quiet sneer at the reveal arrogance, that the Black Gates would be the topic of true interest. Uncowed by the presence of Immortal and Progenitor, she remains quiet, curious, almost.. eager.
In response, lashes of shadow haze escape from Iosyne. They congeal at a point before the feet of Abhorash, creating a pond that soon dissipates, leaving behind the broken form of Zsarachnor.
The Black Gates.
The immensely tall wrought iron gates bear strange, grotesque designs that depict the dreaded Llazuth, Queen of Spiders, leading her armies to victory. The gates are firmly closed, though a single iron chain hangs beside them. Following the length of the chain, one can make out a large silver bell above the gates, used to alert the gatekeeper should one wish entry within the Black Keep. A long chain attached to a bell hangs here. The Black Gates rise here, impenetrable and menacing. Zsarachnor's defeated body is dumped unceremoniously on the ground, a jutting lance of shadow and bone protruding from his eyesocket.The monstrous half-woman, half-spider form of Iosyne, the Malevolent is here. The imperious presence of Abhorash dominates the room here.
You see exits leading east and west.
You can see the following 3 objects:
"chain37581" a long chain.
"gates72029" the Black Gates.
"Zsarachnor17086" The impaled form of Zsarachnor.
Zsarachnor:
Little regality remains in the broken form of Zsarachnor, impaled through an eye.
It weighs about 90 kilo(s).
It weighs about 90 kilo(s).
The appearance of the impaled form of Zsarachnor does draw reaction from Abhorash- his sneer deepens further, now dominating his face. "An odd play thing for You."
Iosyne's attention pulls to something unseen. "Manners. Reveal yourself if you wish to remain in the hospitality of the Keep."
Interest gleams in the singular eye of Elene as she strays from her post next to the Black Gates. Bare feet patters over to The impaled form of Zsarachnor, amusement flickering briefly past her features as she stares at the jutting lance that protrudes from the eyesocket, where the former Vampire Lord was struck by his opponent. There seems to be an invisible line drawn between corpse and mortal, though whether it is Immortal-drawn or simply out of manners that she does not intrude.
Saidenn arrives from the west.
The phased intruder receives as little of Abhorash's attention as you did. His hard stare rises from the hapless victim to settle upon Iosyne, a single condescending arch of his brow gracing the Goddess. "Surely You did not call for me just to show off a trinket?"
Aethir ripples into existence before you.
Aethir inclines his head politely to Abhorash.
Saidenn pads toward the Black Gates, his steps silent if not for the soft chime of metal and gems accompanying his movements. His stormy eyes land upon Iosyne, then Abhorash, his head dipping forward in a respectful nod as his ears fold back. He then moves to stand near you silently, his attention drifting toward The impaled form of Zsarachnor.
Iosyne looms over Her prize, licking Her lips as She meets Abhorash's blue stare with Her own gouged eyes. "I buried him once. But it was not enough to destroy his mist, apparently." She cants Her head to one side before Her attention slides down to the impaled vampire. "I require an alternative."
Abhorash acknowledges the words with the faintest of nods. He allows silence to reign, motionless. After a long moment, he speaks. "Quite the predicament. For You," he offers unhelpfully.
Elene follows the gaze back down to the 'trinket' in question, in that being the impaled form of Zsarachnor unceremniously decorating the ground before Abhorash's feet. The gossamers of the woman's gown flutter quietly with each movement as she bends her knees, bringing herself closer to the ground at the rare opportunity for closer inspection.
"So a form of stasis in which his mist is rendered inert, then?" Saidenn asks after a moment, his rumble carrying through the air, "I mean, is that what you seek, Malevolent?" He inquires with a look toward Iosyne.
Iosyne is unperturbed by the long stretch of silence. Her head tilts further, gleaning Abhorash's intent. "Something a little more...fun," the Malevolent responds to Saidenn. Though no direct acknowledgement follows, Her spindly legs twist with your movements, impeding access to the torn vampire. "I will offer a favour from Mine for your assistance."
Abhorash's sneer makes its return, a hand slashing through the air in arrogant dismissal. "What could they possibly offer?"
Saidenn nods his head slowly, his bifurcated gaze sweeping toward you at the motion. He stays where he is, studying the impaled corpse from afar, "The Archivium contains its own number of dangerous relics, organisms, or... corpses, in this case, Progenitor," He purrs, then gazing toward Iosyne, "Perhaps You would see him suffer eternally?" He asks, "I am still catching up with all of the events that lead to his rising, but what is to say he cannot remain... conscious and suffering while contained?"
In response, Iosyne reaches down, seizing the protruding lance. She gives it a vigorous shake, sending Zsarachnor's impaled body sliding horrifically up and down. "This was not My work. Do not underestimate the value of Mine, Progenitor."
A barely conscious groan of pain escapes from the pitiful form of Zsarachnor as it squelches along its imprisonment.
Elene sniffs loudly, bringing her hands away from the impaled form of Zsarachnor as she rises to her feet. A blossoming smile is elicited upon her ichored lips as she pulls her hands to her chest, but steps away from the slain Vampire Lord, understanding Iosyne's obstructing intent. Her attention then turns to Abhorash, her chin dipping as she murmurs, "Well, if you're not going to offer anything, Progenitor, then why should we not try offering something else that will interest the Goddess than you?"
For the first time, you do draw the full crushing weight of Abhorash's attention, unblinking blue eyes narrowing as he shifts his neck - just barely - to regard you. "As if you had the means," he says contemptuously.
Saidenn closes his eyes a moment, his lips moving with little sound. When they do open again, his brow stays furrowed as if attempting to recall something. The sound of from the corpse gets his ears to twitch. your words earn a twist of his maw, "Blood curse. Yrtez. Clearly not destroyed, not even before, but nearly so." The lilt to his tone is one being spoken to no one in particular. At Abhorash's words and regard of you, he steps in closer to the latter. "We will find a way, which appears to be more than you are doing, Progenitor." He rumbles politely, despite his words, "Unless you wish to see a twisted example of what can become of the Blooded put on display for any, and all, to see."
Indifferent to the crushing weight of Abhorash's attention, Elene remains standing though she sways in the spot. Her arms fall from her chest, fingers clutching the hem of her robes in little fists even as a soft tinkling of laughter echoes forth from the woman. Barely giving him any deserved respect, she settles her singular-eyed attention upon the impaled form of Zsarachnor.
Quickly turning his attention away from Abhorash to Elene, Saidenn says, "So, thoughts, Belletrist?"
The momentary spar draws no response from Iosyne. Indeed, the Goddess settles to idly playing with the lance held in Her hands, twisting it and watching the resulting spinning pirouettes from its trapped guest.
Quietly, her voice strained in focus - or othersie - as she chooses her words, you say, "Geometrical confines, transformed from two-dimensional influence to three-dimensional outreach. Tweaking of the Spheres as the skeins of each number intertwine and combine to keep motes of vampiric mist parted, unable to coalesce into a whole. Lilein's knowledge of vampire physiology."
You say, "Possible, Architect. We just need time- but that is for the Malevolent to decide, while She keeps Zsarachnor's ruined vessel by Her side."
Saidenn says, "The exclusion of Yuef from within the confines. Removal of the singularity confounds the ability to coalesce the self. Inclusion of the Lemniscate to ensure indefinite suspension and suffering. Perhaps... a nudge of Ef'tig to increase the agony of separation?"
Abhorash dismisses the discussion, turning back to Iosyne. "I will indulge You. For the price offered." A few steps ring out as he steps closer to study the fallen abomination. "Bind him. His curse will remain dormant for now."
Saidenn just thought:
The Archivium will find its place again. Such a waste of talent and resources due to mismanagement. More to learn, more to know.
No hint of appropriate material is about Iosyne's arachnid form. She stops spinning Zsarachnor as She ponders the situation.
Settling upon inspiration, Iosyne promptly plunges a spindly leg into the gut of Zsarachnor, easily shearing through blackened armour and pale flesh to open a gaping wound. She gives the lance a shake, causing entrails and intestines to spill forth from the opened hole.
Saidenn looks toward Abhorash with his storm-laden eyes, then to the impaled corpse and finally to the Goddess, Herself. "Perhaps a collaboration, in the end." He offers toward Iosyne. "His curse will remain dormant for now, but there is not a promise for the future." He takes a few steps forward, standing closer to the towering arachnid form, "Give the Archivium the time and means to find a permanent solution to the curse so it need not be an iss-" He pauses as he watches the leg rise and fall, then down to the offal from within the corpse, his nostrils flaring at the scent of it as his eyes look back up toward Iosyne in curiosity.
Iosyne takes an obliging step back from the mess at - and caused by - Her feet. She opens Her arms invitingly to the gathered, offering a role in the gruesome proceedings.
Elene blinks once, staring at the abrupt movement of the half-woman, half-spider Immortal as a spindly leg razes through the gut of the defeated Vampire Lord. The edges of her ichored lips twist in amusement despite the dissection of a situation. She takes a side-step as entrails and intestines fall from the gory wound, keeping a wary distance away from the flying organs but then seems to freeze after making that movement, as if drawn back by her curiosity.
"Is it... safe?" Elene asks, her singular eye burning brightly.
Abhorash casts another gaze of contempt at you, though he does not repeat his reassurance.
"One can never be too careful, Progenitor." There is a dip of Elene's head in Abhorash's direction, the faint shadow of a smirk slithering across her features. She takes the time to prepare her tools, digging through her belongings to weaponise herself with an athame, her tool of choice.
You pull a delicate, spiral-etched athame from your weaponbelt fluidly.
You start to wield a delicate, spiral-etched athame in your left hand.
"Oh, I'll want an eye."
"...If they're not entirely ruined yet."
Saidenn's ears tilt toward you in a soft peal of silver, his tail flicking back and forth rapidly. The question asked and silently answered (or not) gets him to once more breath in the scent of the disemboweled offering. Rather than wait for another, he reaches upward toward the torn corpse and, with claws unsheathed, rips away a section of intestine, bringing it toward his maw with a sniff, before tearing away a small portion with his canines, remembering his last visit with the arachnid Divine and Her offerings from Her table.
Iosyne gives the meat pinata one last shake, drawing forth more innards before She releases the lance, allowing you, Saidenn, and Aethir to contribute as they might desire. She quickly lashes out, slapping the intestine out of Saidenn's hand before it makes its way to his mouth. "Bind, not eat. That curse will not remain dormant forever."
A smirk of amusement ghosts Abhorash's lips at Saidenn's movements. It vanishes quickly, however, at the Malevolent's intervention. He almost looks disappointed.
Ayukazi arrives from the west.
Making a circle around the strewn organs about the impaled form of Zsarachnor, Elene closes in once more, the hem of her gown brushing lightly against the squelching innards. The woman clears her throat, keeping her countenance measured as she throws a glance down Saidenn's way, watching the flying section of intestines slapped away by Iosyne onto the ground. With a rolling shrug of her shoulders, she resumes the fulfillment of her own intent, a delicate, spiral-etched athame already carving a smooth line up the neck of the vampire meat sack. The tip trails along the jawline, before slicing off an ear, which she deftly palms out of view.
The vague image of an entwined venantium locket appears in the air, before Rhyot appears in a flash of magic.
He is followed by a disease-ridden direwolf.
Rhyot inclines his head politely to those around him.
"Since we're assisting You with the action of binding, Malevolent," Elene asks, as she continues to work. "Would You clarify how we are contributing by dismembering Zsarachnor?"
Iosyne beams at Ayukazi as Her General arrives, gesturing at the impaled form of Zsarachnor. Entrails gush forth from a wound in the broken vampire's gut, forming a gruesome pool around him. "We are binding him. With...himself." To demonstrate, the Malevolent picks up a strand of intestine, separating it to create makeshift manacles around the vampire's wrists.
Rhyot inclines his head politely to Abhorash.
Ayukazi walks in, noting those in attendance. She inclines to Abhorash, then to Iosyne, shadows writhing around her newfound form. Stalking up to the impaled form of Zsarachnor, her eyes glow with a vibrant crimson light as she finds her place at her Godess's side amidst the viscera. "No regality in that vampire. I had expected more of a Consanguine's demeanor."
Direct action seemingly beneath him, Abhorash simply watches, a somewhat exasperated frown on his face at your useless work.
"Ah, I should have figured," comes Elene's faint voice. She tilts her head as she withdraws a delicate, spiral-etched athame from the impaled form of Zsarachnor then, frowning thoughtfully as she muses, "I have been going down the wrong methodology then." Stowing the blade away, she frees up her hands before raking scarred fingers through her scalp. She shifts her body now, before sinking one arm directly into the exposed cavity of the unfortunate meat sack.
That comment elicits a stir from Abhorash. "He is not Consanguine," the Progenitor says softly.
Saidenn's eyes regain some focus after the slap, his nostrils expanding for a moment and then seeming to settle. "Yes, of course." He purrs, his tail lashing behind him and his claws flexing at the air. He watches you go about you business, his eyes narrowing a moment before he listens to the question. The explanation earns a slow nod, even as he acknowledges Ayukazi and Rhyot with the same. "I see." He says slowly, even as he follows Iosyne's example, selecting a trail of innards to wrap them about the corpse's ankles.
Ayukazi glances over at the Progenitor. "Noted."
Zsarachnor thrashes as he is desecrated, his insides fashioned into bindings for his outsides.
Rhyot shakes his head, before nodding towards Abhorash. "He never was. As I had mentioned previously, he was an Abomination and made corrupted." Looking towards Ayukazi, "We are Consanguine."
Ayukazi takes a look at the bloody work around her. Having found a distaste of the corpse ahead of her, she keeps her claws clean this time and wills her shadows to grab innards, binding them tightly about the wreckage of a corpse in unison of those about her.
Elene fishes out a particularly long entrail, tugging upon one free end before utilising it as a garland around Zsarachnor's neck. Ensuring that she has enough length for the deed, she loops it twice around the head before connecting the intestines down to the living corpse's hands. Unfortunately, it seems she has run out of leeway to work with, and a bulging knot is all she can muster instead of the bow she intended to form. She leans over the impaled form of Zsarachnor, examining the cavity.
Rhyot ponders a moment as he looks at his hands, the runes upon his skin lighting up. "You know what else sounds interesting while you're tying him up?" He looks towards Iosyne, Abhorash, and Ayukazi before looking at Zsarachnor. "Given my training as a Bloodborn, trapping him inside a nightmare like dreamstate for all eternity witnessing the same fight over and over of him losing to Ayukazi. Pain means nothing to an abomination, but mentally breaking him... that's something altogether different."
Saidenn makes no effort to keep his paws or the surrounding fur clean of blood or gore after he finishes tying the ankles of the impaled form of Zsarachnor. He watches you work after he finishes, then up to the the creature's face, listening to Rhyot, "Perhaps removal of his one good eye and his tongue may aid in his torment," He suggests, noting little remains of the viscera, in the moment, to use to bind the body further.
Apparently satisfied with the grunt work, Abhorash now steps forward himself, waving the assemblage away from the mutilated prisoner.
Ayukazi steps to Iosyne's side, intoning, "Mind took a bit to wake. I hope I didn't miss too much fun."
One arm bloodied to the elbow, Elene seems done with her side of the work. "By the Goddesses and Gods, I've made such a mess." She rises to her feet now, that sanguine-washed hand and their fingers still curled into a fist as she steps away. It is a fluid motion, though unintended, her departure from the side of the impaled form of Zsarachnor making enough room for Abhorash to step into the space for his own work.
"I promised the Progenitor a favour from Mine in return for his assistance," Iosyne remarks to Ayukazi, Her utterly casual tone portraying nothing of the weight of such an obligation.
Saidenn mirrors your action in stepping back, some excess vitae matting the fur upon his chest apart from that on his paws and wrists. He looks toward the mess upon you, then watches Abhorash with interest.
Ayukazi turns her head imperceptibly towards Iosyne, noting the words carefully. Her shadow-formed wings expand, flicking once to leave shadows stirring in the room rhythmically like churning tides. "Might I ask what favour?"
"That is for him to decide," Iosyne says, adding more weight to the obligation.
Ayukazi simply nods.
Ayukazi just thought:
Another task. So be it. Nothing is impossible.
Abhorash seizes Zsarachnor by the throat. The force of the Progenitor's presence seems to finally draw Zsarachnor into consciousness, an animalistic screech of fear gurgling through broken lips. As Abhorash lifts the prisoner into the air, the viscera chaining Zsarachnor glows and hardens, forming impenetrable bonds of cruel strength.
In an oddly good mood, Elene tosses her hair behind her back with a toss of her head. Her tongue strays from her mouth to taste the air and she raises both arms from her side, the cleaner hand curling over the crimson-washed one. Pale, blood-leeched flesh is hidden beneath curled fingers as she watches Abhorash intently, the conversation between Ayukazi and Iosyne rising faintly in the background.
Abhorash places a hand in front of Zsarachnor's face. Horribly, wisps of blood begin seeping out of the defeated vampire's every pore, congealing into a globe atop Abhorash's palm. Even as it gathers, the sphere of blood darkens, settling into black. The Progenitor hands the bound vampire to Iosyne.
Iosyne immediately passes Zsarachnor to Ayukazi. "Do the honours."
Rhyot shrugs his shoulders before watching the show of strength before him, making the runes upon his skin dim. He glances to you and shakes his head, not saying a single word.
Saidenn watches silently, his tail swaying behind him slowly. His stormy eyes take in the motions from Abhorash, the chains, as well as the sphere of blood. He remains unblinking through all of this, now gazing upon the dessicated corpse and Ayukazi.
Enraptured by Abhorash's precise management with Zsarachnor's blood, Elene takes an unwitting step towards him. The darkening of the sphere draws further attention, and a frown upon her features as she lets loose a question in a soft sibilant tone. "That. What did you do to the drawn blood, Progenitor?"
Ayukazi nods at the suggestion, flapping her wings to raise herself steadily to the top of the Black Gates. Taking a moment to look at the impaled form of Zsarachnor, her lip twitches. Veins ignite, leaving her form in a blood-traced glow as she takes the spear hanging from the vampire corpse's eye and impales it to the ceiling. Watching the body dangle like a well adorned trophy ornament, she nods once again, calling shadows under her feet to allow her to lower to the ground gracefully. "A reminder."
Abhorash does not design to answer you. He simply releases the globe, watching as it hangs suspended in the air for a moment before rushing back to its originator. The sphere settles above the head of the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor in a boiling mass. Occasional droplets fall from the sphere, landing upon the trapped vampire's head with an awful hiss. When these droplets hit, Zsarachnor unleashes a tortured scream of excruciating agony, thrashing against his restraints. "That will hold him. I will be in touch to collect my due."
A chill leaves the air as Progenitor Abhorash departs to the ether.
Fanning an etched lithograph slide by the side as awareness has momentarily fallen upon the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor and Ayukazi, Elene takes her moment to capture the event, even while her question to Abhorash hangs in the air, left unanswered. Her lips are twisted into a neutral line upon her features, depicting no emotion save for curiosity. "Hmph."
Zsarachnor, description changed:
The once-imposing figure of Zsarachnor has been utterly desecrated, his insides torn out and fashioned into bindings for his outsides. A length of intenstine binds his hands together in manacles, while similar 'links' wrap around his ankles. A particularly long length of entrail loops around the head and neck, connecting to manacled hands. The gruesome ornament crowns the Black Gates, attached to their highest point by virtue of the broken lance running through an eye and out the back of his head. A black, thick substance hangs in a never-ending sphere above the prisoner's head, every so often dripping down upon Zsarachnor with a disgusting hiss.
It weighs about 90 kilo(s).
It weighs about 90 kilo(s).
Saidenn folds his arms around his midsection, paws hanging onto his elbows as the chained creature is situated in his 'permanent' prison. He listens to the hiss from the droplets, his eyes studying the binding from afar before looking toward the ground, his ears folding back and his brow furrowing.
The decoration complete, tendrils of shadow haze roll off Iosyne. Each whips about the occupants of the room, enveloping the remnants of Zsarachnor's blood and bits still upon the Malevolent's helpers, whisking them away off into the depths. Without looking at you, the Malevolent extends an expectant hand at you.
The Black Gates.
The immensely tall wrought iron gates bear strange, grotesque designs that depict the dreaded Llazuth, Queen of Spiders, leading her armies to victory. The gates are firmly closed, though a single iron chain hangs beside them. Following the length of the chain, one can make out a large silver bell above the gates, used to alert the gatekeeper should one wish entry within the Black Keep. A long chain attached to a bell hangs here. The Black Gates rise here, impenetrable and menacing. Zsarachnor's entrails spill out from his ruined gut, wrapping about his body as gruesome chains. The defeated vampire hangs atop the Black Gates, serving as its crowning feature attached by a broken length of lance running through one ruined eye. Flies hover around a disease-ridden direwolf that prowls here. Aethir Cardinalis is here, shrouded. He wields a buckler in his left hand and an iron-tipped whip in his right. Saidenn is here. He wields a small codex in his left hand and a jewel-encrusted buckler in his right. The monstrous half-woman, half-spider form of Iosyne, the Malevolent is here. Lady Ayukazi Vyktaire, Iosyne's General is here. She wields a Delosian bastard sword in her hands. "Shadowlord" Rhyot Vyktaire, Warlord of Chaos is here. He wields a long-staffed glaive in his hands.
You see exits leading east and west.
Galilei enters from the east.
Ayukazi gazes at you, calculative glowing crimson eyes watching her movements as if just as expectant as Iosyne. "I believe you have something of Hers."
"Nothing quite escapes Your discerning eye...s, does it, Malevolent?" Elene murmurs, her voice a soft, silken caress. She crooks her head to one side as she clutches the pale, blood-leeched remnants of Zsarachnor's ear against her chest, appearing almost reluctant to part with her newly-acquired trophy. "I know, I know. It's not safe," she sniffs.
Galilei just thought:
Well, that is either disgustingly excessive or befitting of one called 'Zsarachnor.'
Ayukazi just thought:
It's not yours to claim.
Rhyot shakes his head, "If you knew it wasn't safe, then why try to take a piece in the first place."
"Elene," Iosyne chides, as if scolding a toddler. Her expectant hand remains outstretched, awaiting the transfer from your possession to Hers.
"Our mission asks us to study that which is not safe, to ensure that should the worst occur, we may prevent a catastrophe in the future." Saidenn answers toward Rhyot, watching Iosyne and you, "Although, in these cases, we would prefer to obtain these specimens cooperatively."
Fingers unentwining about each other, Elene stretches out a hand, unfurling her fist to reveal the severed ear that she earlier retrieved from the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor. "High risk begets high rewards," the woman answers Rhyot. "If the Archivium is capable of handling a sample of the Bloom, nothing is out of our reach." The gossamers of her gown flutters slightly as she gives a faint shrug of her shoulders. She patters over to Iosyne, before presenting the appendage to Her. "This is Yours, Malevolent."
Rhyot looks to Saidenn, his red eyes glowing brightly before he looks away. "Sounds like an excuse to study things that which should left be untouched and left to the remnants of time."
"Keeper, I daresay the Archivium will find a way to access... this, one way or another," Galilei offers evenly.
"Shadowlord" Rhyot Vyktaire, Warlord of Chaos says, "Case in point, a disease that swept through the entirety of Sapience that changed the very way we make curatives and survived for weeks at a time and yet you hold a sample of it as well. Mmm."
Ayukazi gazes towards Galilei, eyes flickering dangerously. "Perhaps."
Galilei just thought:
I wonder how convincing an argument Lilein could make.
Rhyot tighten the grip upon his glaive, "I would hope they leave this one be."
"From the studies of the past came the foundations of many fortifications of the present, after all," Elene murmurs. "One can even claim that the leylines that eked out its presence upon Sapience should have been left untouched, for it brought about changes to life but also brought the Dreikathi to us."
Iosyne's hand closes around the appendage. She climbs the Black Gate, each leg contorting independently to bring the monstrous arachnid up to the top. The Goddess then places the ear back where it belongs; the restoration does little to improve the appearance of the utterly broken piece crowning the Gates. The discussion draws Her voice, ringing from atop the Gates. "Ask My Nocturn about what the experience of that curse was like. You would not emerge from it intact as she did. That is why he is bound here."
Iosyne warps out of perception, Her monstrous form separating into inky threads of shadow which slither away in different directions.
Saidenn's lips twitch at the corners of his maw, "And how do you know which should remain untouched?" He asks, "Lest we let everything remain buried in the sands of time until we repeat the mistakes of our forebears." He murmurs casually. At the comment toward the Bloom, he exhales, "It is from the Bloom that we provided the mutagen that could be used to cure those infected, lest you forget, Keeper." He explains, "And the sample is necessary to create the mutagen in the future, should it return."
Ayukazi uses Nocturn Nova.
Ayukazi tilts her head back, concentrating as she unleashes his power over blood. Crimson energy crackles throughout Ayukazi's form before a sanguine nova explodes forth in a rolling ring of destruction.
The sanguine nova consumes you, momentarily overwhelming you in its destructive grasp.
Elene tilts her head backwards, giving a last glance at the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor hanging from the top of the Black Gates.
Rhyot waves his hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter, ultimately. The Archivum will do what the Archivum does... and when inevitably you find someone among your ranks that utilizes these pieces of powers into something even you cannot control, you will be mocked for your failures and your own downfall."
Saidenn says, "...much as we are, as a whole, by those who say the same of Shadow, hm?"
Ayukazi settles in next to the Chaos Lord. Her arms cross over themselves, shadows cloaking the room further. "Perhaps she wants to be a mindless Thrall."
Galilei has given the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor the briefest of glances since her arrival, which renews every so often and marginally appears less disgusted each time; Ayukazi's comment has a pointed ear flicking toward her direction.
Ayukazi just thought:
If that had happened... all this power could have been his to command.
Galilei just thought:
Better and stronger than any reanimated corpse...
A sizzling droplet falls from the sphere of darkness above the impaled, 'chained' form of Zsarachnor's head. As it lands, the broken form of the vampire thrashes in pure agony, helpless against his gruesome bonds. A scream of pure, unimaginable agony erupts from him.
The tortured screams of Zsarachnor echo throughout Azdun, filled with unimaginable agony.
Thoughtfully, you say, "I suppose I can spend every day in a week here at the Black Keep with Zsarachnor. It matters not."
-End-
4
Comments
Elene: She is 306 years old.
smh how did you both make it this far without blowing yourselves up.
Also