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Best Of
A Housewarming Gift
Bit of backstory: Sry has been Elene's student since the days when he was a Grook Cabalist. Even throughout his life, he's always regarded her as such, no matter where his life took him.
Upon returning from a long slumber, it seems Elene wants her pound of flesh and to remind her student who's in charge and that even though he's fled to the Spirit side, that's not going to stop her.
WARNING: Some strong language and it's very violent.
With knowing shrewdness, a cloaked figure says to you, "You rebuilt your house. Already dedicating the rest of your life to Enorian, little romeviti?"
Opening one eye to glance at Elene from out of the corner of his peripheral vision, you say, "Hardly. I was napping."
You have emoted: Sryaen heaves a low sigh as he reluctantly straightens his posture. He shifts his legs to the side, planting his boots quietly upon the grass though he still remains seated in the hammock as his eyes fully open to look upon a cloaked figure. "You didn't bring your dog with you this time," he comments dryly.
A cloaked figure doesn't appear to be convinced. One scarred hand rises to sweep her silvery hair off her shoulders, before pressing fingers into her cheek in brief thought. Then, there is a rustle of cloth as the woman draws close to you before leaning close to you, close enough to touch lips. "Miss him already?" she enquires.
You have emoted: Sryaen's expression remains neutral as Elene draws close. "Like a boil on my ass," he replies flatly. "Let's step inside before he sniffs his way here," he adds, motioning with his hands so she will allow him to stand.
A cloaked figure's pale gaze gleams and her lips twist briefly.
You have emoted: Sryaen inhales sharply before gently swinging his body upright out of the hammock. He gestures with a hand as he moves towards the door, his slender fingertips curling around the handle.
A stately marble foyer.
The foyer is enormous, esoteric, powerful, cornered by mighty pillars of marble that grip at the
ceiling high above. The center of the room depresses approximately a foot into a circular basin of sorts, edged with cushions to accommodate guests. A middling-sized fire pit is dug into the center, exuding a comfortable heat to stave away the chill air. Set into the northern wall are a mighty pair of wooden doors, painted in deep red, and near them, a staircase that hugs the wall, leading up to the balcony above. Through marble archways on either side of the room can be seen a study and atrium. Several settings of decorative swords, emblazoned and painted with red and green heraldry, cross eternally on the walls. A three-sconce decoration of faceted amethyst has been mounted on the wall here. A cloaked figure is here. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands.You see exits leading north (open pine door), northeast (open pine door), east, west, up, and out (closed pine door).
Without much flair, you say, "Ta-da."
You have emoted: Sryaen folds his slender arms casually across his chest while gesturing with a
fingertip. "Well? Have a look around. I know you didn't come down here to just stand in my foyer," he says in his usual low, harsh tone.
"Hmm," Elene murmurs, now that she feels safe enough to draw down a profane cloak of ambiguity. Her gaze flickers to and fro, before she steps forward and onwards into the house.
Elene licks her lips.
A shadowy atrium.
Only the occasional, fleeting star is visible past the dark clouds blanketing the sky above. Shadows swirl all around this rather large, open room. Exquisitely tinted glass windows shield most of the atrium from the outside light, adding a slight jade tint to the area due to the decoration of two greenish serpents entwined together upon the windows. There are several benches here, pushed along the edges of the room, to allow easier access to the main feature of this room. Underneath the window, on the far edge, is a well-kept garden, glowing softly with violet and dark-bluish hues. A large picnic basket lined with a gray plaid quilt sits here. There are 10 twilight blue roses here. Elene Arcan, Savant of Jherza is here. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands. You see a single exit leading east.
Ichored lips part to form a mirthless smile as Elene's gaze rakes across her surroundings. Shadows rise on all sides, the gloom of the surroundings almost suffocating-- save for the soft jade tint from the high windows.
You have emoted: Sryaen casually leans against the doorway, his arms still folded across his chest as his gaze lingers upon Elene's figure. "You never answered me last week," he observes simply. "Why you came down to visit."
A sharp turn upon a heel brings Elene striding back to you. Not much is seen upon her features, the mask of polite neutrality taking over her demeanour as she steps past you, off to visit the rest of the house.
Within a sandy training pit.
Emerging from the long hallway leads into this stalwart training yard. Thick marble pillars border the perimeter, through which the light is filtered into a harsh grid over the court. Mounted on a rearward wall, a lion's head of granite and obsidian cries out in never-ending, frozen umbrage. It roars a steady current of clear water, collected beneath in a basin, set flush against the wall. The yard proper is a wide and somewhat sunken pit, accessible by either the perimeter steps or by a daring hop in. Tons of fine, black sand fill the pit, deep enough to sink ones foot in but shallow enough that a fall still carries the impact of the harder marble beneath. At the arena's periphery an iron weapon rack juts out of the sand, brimming with menacing weapons, some blunted and perfect for more innocuous training, others decidedly more dangerous. The continent of Sapience unfolds in miniature across the face of a war table. An ebon-grey cabinet filled with practice weapons is mounted here. Elene Arcan, Savant of Jherza is here. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands. You see exits leading north and east (open pine door).
Her voice soft and silken, Elene Arcan, Savant of Jherza says, "Do I need a reason to visit you, my Sryaen?"
You have emoted: Making no attempt to answer that question, Sryaen offers one of his own, following behind Elene and idly tapping his knuckles against the war table. "Is he a new student of yours?" he asks, arching a slender eyebrow towards her.
Having lost interest in house viewing now that she has achieved it, Elene returns her full and
unrelenting attention upon you. Silver scars stretch and mar the surface of every available skin,
the old trauma of past having survived through the years. Bare feet makes no sound as she traverses the floor, eliminating all distance between you and her. "I have new students," she elaborates, clarifies, and then tilts her head to the side. "And it seems he's very jealous of you."
You have emoted: Pressing his knuckles lightly against the table, Sryaen allows his emerald gaze to search Elene's face. "Really?" he responds, sounding genuinely surprised. "And here I was jealous of just how much he seemed to be in tact. And under the delusion that you didn't own him," he continues, his lips curling into a faint sneer as the words escape his mouth.
A faint tinkling of laughter, and Elene leans forward and across the table to reach you. The woman's hands seize ahold of your uniform, dragging you to her.
You have emoted: Sryaen doesn't resist the motion, instead taking a half step towards Elene as his eyes remain locked upon her features, his expression seeming unimpressed.
The other hand of Elene brushes gently past your face, fingers outlining your jaw before flitting
upwards to trace your lips. And then, the woman finishes her inspection by circling your eyes. "I
took an ear from him. I'd very much like to take your eyes. It seems it hasn't lasted for very long. My personalised brand for students."
You have emoted: Sryaen lifts a slender hand in a motion to grip at Elene's wrist with his fingertips.Upon hearing her words, anger flashes visibly across his features. "An ear? A -fucking- ear?" he hisses, bits of spittle flying past his lips. He exhales a slow, fluid breath and his expression and body language suddenly become more neutral. "You'll need to get permission to take any more from me," he states firmly yet cryptically.
"SHE TOOK MY FUCKING EYES. GOUGED THEM OUT. AND ALL NAOS GOT WAS HIS POOR LITTLE MONGREL EAR CUT OFF," Sryaen's internal dialogue screams within his head.
"Permission?" The word is spoken icily, Elene's gaze flattening as a snarl is ripped from her lips.
Madness seeps into her features, chasing away her polite, calm demeanour and leaving behind the true nature of the woman. Her arm tugs violently, muscles rippling as she bodily drags you across an immense, detailed war table. "I own you, student. I molded you, Sryaen. Why does everyone have to PISS ME OFF TODAY?"
You have emoted: Sryaen slams the tip of his dirk into the war table, its tip slicing across the
wooden surface in an attempt to slow the sudden, violent motion. His features twist darkly, rage and hatred overtaking his countenance. "I said what I said," he barks through gritted teeth. "Unless you want to 'discuss' it," he teases, flicking his tongue across his lips in a familiar gesture.
Another vicious snarl, the countenance of Elene twisted beyond recognition. The grip upon your
uniform is impossibly tight, and though her action to drag you over to her is slowed by the dagger stabbed into the table, she doesn't seem to care. Her features draw close, and her breath feels warm against your face as she murmurs, "I. Want. Your. Eyes."
You have emoted: His fingertips curling around the hilt in a white-knuckle grip, Sryaen emits a
breathy grunt as he wrenches the dagger from the table. He dips his head towards Elene, hissing a low whisper against her cheek.
You murmur to Elene, "I heard a story about how you got your fucking jaw ripped off."
You have emoted: Sryaen pulls back briefly as if to gauge Elene's reaction before he continues, "You want to do that shit, you go tear apart your new toy. You do not do it with me."
Her anger explodes in tremendous fashion. Elene's body trembles with unmitigated rage, the trigger of which does not actually seem to be caused by you. The expression upon her features is terrifyingly alien, the woman so far gone in her emotions. "I hate all of you," she hisses, "I hate every single one of you." She lets go of her grip upon your uniform now, her scarred hand swiftly darting over to snare your neck in a crushing grasp. "Why does no one want to indulge me?" She rambles on. "Am I unwanted? Am I too much of a pushover?"
Elene starts to wield a jade sacrificial dagger in her left hand.
You have emoted: Sryaen's voice comes in a low, choking noise as Elene's fingertips curl around histhroat. He lashes out with his other hand to curl the tip of the whip around one of the cabinet legs and his arm flexes powerfully while he tugs back hard to send the weapon rack in her direction. His eyes widen at seeing the jade dagger in Elene's hands, and his jugular pulses with adrenaline beneath her grip.
With surprising flexibility and agility, Elene leaps upon an immense, detailed war table, narrowly
avoiding the weapon rack as it crashes over towards her. She nearly loses her balance as the impact of furniture against furniture resounds in the room, but then uses her grip upon your neck to steady herself. There is no rational thought in the Azudim's palid gaze as she sends a jade sacrificial dagger stabbing down towards your face.
You have emoted: Deftly flipping his dirk in his hand, Sryaen lifts it to send the tip in a brutal,
stabbing motion towards the back of Elene's calf while her grip keeps him pinned to the table. In an attempt to minimize damage, he shifts his chin an inch to the side. His mouth contorts as a bloodcurdling scream tears its way out of his throat as Elene's dagger slices effortlessly past the flesh and muscle of his right cheek, eliciting a satisfying gushing of blood that spatters across the table.
Pain registers to Elene as she hisses in response, her pale gaze flickering with some shaken form of clarity-- but it is temporary, and madness consumes her fully in its grasp as she snarls like an enraged animal. Blood stains an immense, detailed war table as she struggles with you, her dagger continue to carve a careless trail of carnage across those features.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Good morning, Squire."
Harshly, you hiss afar to Kalena, "HELP." His voice trails off into what can almost be certain to be a gurgle of blood."
You have emoted: Sryaen wrenches the dagger down, tearing the tip further down Elene's calf towards your ankle before his fingertips release their grip on the hilt and shadows pour forth from his palm. His eyes go wild as he screams horrifically, moving to tear his face away from the dagger carving up his face but leaving bits of flesh and muscle pinned to the table. Maneuvering with surprising agility, he slips underneath Elene and moves to dive into the shadows shrouding the room.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "What is going on?? The door is locked?"
Blood spills in large quantities down Elene's now lamed leg, your dagger slicing through sinew and tendons in a crippling pull of the blade. The man, however, has put himself away from her reach as you maneuver with agility, sliding underneath her to seek comfort in the shadows.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Sryaen, I need you to talk to me. I cant prism to you, I cant
brazier you.. I cant get to you."
You have set a new description. This is how you will now appear:
He is a typical Azudim is a long-limbed, feral creature with flawless skin the color of ash. Arcane runes zig-zag across what flesh can be seen in seemingly calculated design, accentuating the curvature of muscle or outlining solid, powerful bone. His face has been brutally carved up and his torso is absolutely covered in his own blood.
You have emoted: Sryaen slides across the floor leading towards the second story balcony, blood pouring from his face and leaving a clear trail.
*Sry moves, falls from his balcony to the foyer to let Kalena in*
Your pose is now set as:
Sryaen is here laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
Kalena slings open the door and nearly trips over you, her boots leaving bloody prints as she darts around you to clear the area. "Who.. Elene?" she asks, running back and dropping next to to you on her knees. "What happened?"
His face brutally carved up and making it difficult to understand him through all the blood, you
say, "Grghh..mmnhhh."
From afar, Elene hisses harshly to you, "Fine." The woman's voice exudes tiredness, the anger
previously filling her subsiding into little more than just bitterness. "Have it your way, Sryaen.
I'm going home.""
You have emoted: Sryaen reaches out with a powerful hand to grip at Kalena's boots and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
Kalena works her way around you, lifting you to rest against her knees in an attempt to keep you from choking on your own blood. Unsure of what to do, she digs out a crafting cloth from her pack and tries to clean off some of the blood. "Okay, okay. Calm yourself." she murmurs, attempting a soothing. "You're safe, you're safe." she continues speaking while wiping blood from your mouth. "Can you tell me who did this?"
You have emoted: Sryaen tilts his head to the side, coughing up copious amounts of blood from the bloody swathe carved past the flesh and muscle upon his right cheek. His eyes roll lazily around in his sockets as he struggles to look at Kalena. His chest rises and falls in heavy, labored breathing as he struggles to speak; his tongue moving visibly behind the wide opening in the side of his face.
Harshly, you hiss afar to Kalena, "I fell down the stairs.."
Kalena notices the gaping hole in your cheek and does her best to keep her facial features calm and comforting, lightly sliding the already blood-soaked cloth to your cheek and apply pressure. "You have to stay with me, okay? Stay awake, keep your focus on me Sryaen." she states softly down to the man resting in her lap. "Listen to my voice, and just breathe. You're safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Sry.. I am not a fool."
You have emoted: His brow contorting in pain, Sryaen exhales another slow, labored breath as he lifts his hands to rest them atop his chest in an almost defeated manner. His blood-flecked emerald gaze shifts to focus upon Kalena.
Harshly, you hiss afar to Kalena, "I am fine now, really. Thank you. I just need a moment.."
Kalena tilts her chin down to examine you closely, searching for further wounds while blindly
digging for a clean cloth. A soft smile breaks across her features while her head slowly shakes from side to side. "You dont get rid of me that easily, Squire." she states, her voice still calm and soothing while she uses the new cloth to dab away blood still keeping pressure with the opposite.
Kalena looks up at Eoros from her place on the floor with you halfway pulled into her lap, the pair resting in a pool of blood. "He was attacked." she tells her sister while she continues holding pressure to the gaping hole in your cheek. "We need to close this wound on his cheek or he damn well may bleed out."
You have emoted: Sryaen's eyes flick towards Eoros as he remains silent, though emitting a low grunt as Kalena maintains pressure against the hole on the side of his face.
Kalena shifts from side to side to help guide you a little farther into her lap, leaning forward
over the man and lightly pulling away the cloth she's been holding firmly to your cheek. The petite redhead holds her breath to keep her features neutral while she appraises the injury then covers it back up. Turning her glance down to you, "Can you breathe alright?"
You have emoted: Sryaen offers a single, faint nod of his head as his body language relaxes
somewhat. His eyes shift from Kalena and Eoros up towards the broken balcony, the railing splintered as if someone had come crashing through it from the second floor above.
Eoros appears in flash, her posture still sleepy but her eyes are bright and alert. Brushing the
sand off her uniform she seems to take in the situation with a raptor-like gaze, "your methods are a bit more gentler, sister" she murmurs as she approaches her twins side. She kneels and leans forward, her fingers lightly touching the bandage to move it slightly to check the severity of it. "I tend to cleanse in fire" she finally says, "but a tailors hands.."
You have emoted: Sryaen gives a more vigorous nod of his head at Eoros' words and he gestures towards her with a slender hand.
Kalena follows your gaze upwards while Eoros looks at the wound beneath her hand. Eyes squint while examining the broken balcony then lowering her chin to look at where your body is. At the nod in her lap, she looks back to you then to Eoros. "With the size of this wound and lack of tissue sister, I'll have to take skin from his back and place a few stitches.. then you'll need to singe it. There is not enough for me to close and stitches will just rip." she says, free hand reaching forward to rub lightly at your chest.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Sryaen.. this is going to be excruciating for us to fix."
Eoros is already moving before the gesture stops, a dagger pulled from some hidden crevice in her uniform as booted feet take her towards the fire pit. Her movements are quick, efficient as she pulls a bottle from her pack to cleanse the blade before even placing it in the fire. From her
crouched position, she turns to look over her shoulder, "We will need to be quick then, are you
ready?"
You have emoted: Sryaen clenches his jaw as best he can, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in pain once more. His blood-flecked gaze shifts once more to Kalena and he nods again, curling his fingertips into tight, white-knuckled fists by his side.
"Set your blade in the fire, sister. I need you to support him and hold him steady so I can get a
piece of skin from his back. We need to be quick about it" Kalena tells Eoros calmly, shifting her
weight to get a grip under you and hefting him upright. Using her shoulder, she holds the man in place while digging out a needle and thread.
Eoros leaves the dagger in the fire, letting the blade heat up before shes moving over and kneeling. The knees of her uniform soaked in blood, she reaches forward for you to brace him against her body, one hand moving to support the bandage so Kalena could move.
You have emoted: Breathing a low grunt as his body moves, Sryaen creases his brow slightly. The tightening of his facial features elicits a low growl from him while his eyes follow Eoros and
Kalena.
Kalena lifts your shirt from behind while Eoros supports the much larger man, petite hands roaming across exposed skin to find a suitable piece. She pulls out a very sharp blade and a clean cloth, cleaning the cool steel. Pouring out the remainder of her whiskey on the blade, she continues to wipe the blade clean while looking at Eoros. Finally satisfied with the cleanliness of her blade, she scoots back over to get behind you once more. With a steady and practiced hand, she inserts the blade tip carefully underneath your skin while making sure not to puncture the muscles beneath. She moves the knife quickly but gently in a circle while she removes the patch of skin, careful to not destroy the edges or inflict more pain than is necessary. Once the final cut is made, she packs the new wound with a bandage and hurries up off her feet to circle around Eoros. Kneeling next to the pair, she tilts your head to the side and fits the new patch of skin against the gaping hole. With a nod, she digs out a needle and threat and sets to work with stitching the skin in place on the four corners of the skin. Satisfied, she drops the needle and moves around you once more but this time taking a seat behind the much larger man and wrapping arms and legs around you tightly to hold him in place. "Now, sister." she murmurs with the nod of her head.
You have emoted: His throaty growl intensifying briefly as Kalena moves and works behind him, Sryaengrits the teeth on the untouched side of his face while his body stiffens as if to brace himself for the next round of incoming pain.
Eoros tilts her head, golden eyes watching her sister's progress before the weight of the man is
taken off her. She shifts from her knees and towards the fire pit, her hand reaching for the blade of her dagger with a soft hiss and a mumbled 'should have used the longer handle' before her booted feet take her back to their side. She nods, her hand braced against your head to hold it in place before her other comes up to place the flat of the blade with a sizzled hiss.
You have emoted: Sryaen's neck muscles strain visibly as he struggles to contain a muffled scream. His arms tense powerfully by his side and his fingernails claw uselessly against the marble flooring.
Kalena winces from behind you at the sound of your sizzling flesh, her arms and legs gripping
tighter to the man. Bright green eyes set on Eoros though she whispers towards you in an attempt to offer some form of comfort. "You're okay, I know it hurts but it's almost over.. you've got this, pain is temporary."
You have emoted: His legs kicking slightly as he writhes in pain within Kalena's lap, Sryaen exhales a heavy, labored breath out of the undamaged side of his mouth. His facial features remain contorted in agony while his nostrils flare to accompany a sudden intake of breath.
Eoros' features are impassive, teeth gritted as her jaw clenches. She holds it until she is sure
everything is held together before she pulls it away and tosses it somewhere near her feet. The hand that is braced against your head is now suddenly gentle, a light stroke given before she pulls back and crouches down. "That should do it" she murmurs, "a bit of whiskey to help with the pain." Her hands pull back, raptors gaze suddenly filling with more warmth than before as she moves to get a cup.
You have emoted: Sryaen puffs out a heavy, shuddering breath; bits of saliva trailing from his lip. His eyelids slip closed briefly while his fingertips curl loosely around the cup that's slid into
his hands, and his body relaxes visibly.
Kalena exhales a soft breath at Eoros' words, relaxing her tightly held grip around you. She
produces some clean cloths from her pack and beings to shred a particularly long piece into strips. She first starts to dress the wound she created on your back, pulling out the packing and crushing up some anabiotic pills onto a clean scrap. She presses the treated scrap of cloth to your back and uses the shredded strips to secure it in place around your body, tying it off tightly. "His face should be left exposed until the burns scab, dont you think?" she asks Eoros.
Nodding, Lady Eoros Kavoros says, "Yes, and proper cleaning on it."
Kalena stays behind you for the time, giving the man a support to lean against. "You'll need to see me in a day or two so I can clean it and keep it from getting infected." she tells you softly.
"Until then, nothing but rest for you. No fighting, no hunting, nothing." she directs, pushing
herself upright and gripping you underneath the arms to help the man up. "To bed with you, Squire."
You have emoted: Sryaen emits another low grunt as he leans heavily against Kalena; the tall Azudim struggling to stand against the height of the smaller Idreth. He gestures towards the northern door with a slender, bloodied hand.
A secluded bedroom, shaded by an ancient tree.
The bedroom presents an illusion of open space, with large, wide windows set shallow into the walls, their edges hidden by marble pillars the diameter of a man's forearm. In the rear center of the room there is a large bed with a thick, wooden frame. All of the bedposts save for one are enormous and hand-carved with old Ankyrean glyphs; the last joins a tree that grows from the corner of the room, its roots dug into an earthen portion of the floor just for the purpose. The tree serves as both support and canopy, sheltering those who would sleep beneath. The granite walls of the room are decorated with the hides of beasts and hanged trappings of various origin: Numerological trinkets, Spirean signet rings, geometrically-shaped crystals, and various crests and insignia from the offices of the Infernal Knights. Resting against the wall is an ornately carved oaken wardrobe. A huge bed is here, carved from oak and piled in furs and cushions. Lady Kalena Kavoros is here. She wields a shining steel longsword in her left hand and a shining steel longsword in her right. You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).
Kalena does her best to support you while slowly moving into the bedroom and to the bed side. She keeps a firm grip while moving around the man to gently lower you to the bed, the tiny woman struggle with the vast size difference of the two. She pulls a pillow down to make sure you have somewhere soft to lay your head then moves back to lift your legs into the bed.
You have emoted: His expression twitching in familiar recognition upon entering the bedroom, Sryaen allows himself to be guided towards the bed until his frame is situated comfortably atop it. He folds his hands calmly atop his lap as his gaze shifts from the ceiling to the room and then finally to Kalena.
"Get some rest, and alert me when you wake. I'll need to tend to your cheek." Kalena directs, gaze lingering on the freshly singed skin. "Do you want me to stay while you rest?" the redhead offers.
You have emoted: Sryaen offers a single shake of his head, but otherwise doesn't move at first. His chest rises and falls to accompany a more normal breathing pattern, and he lifts a slender hand towards Kalena. His jaw tenses slightly as if he were going to attempt to speak, but only manages to swallow hard; the flesh upon his throat shifting visibly during the motion.
Kalena gives a singular nod in return while leaning forward to pull a blanket over you. "Alert me
when you wake, Squire." the petite woman repeats while giving a last look over the man. "Rest."
Opening one eye to glance at Elene from out of the corner of his peripheral vision, you say, "Hardly. I was napping."
You have emoted: Sryaen heaves a low sigh as he reluctantly straightens his posture. He shifts his legs to the side, planting his boots quietly upon the grass though he still remains seated in the hammock as his eyes fully open to look upon a cloaked figure. "You didn't bring your dog with you this time," he comments dryly.
A cloaked figure doesn't appear to be convinced. One scarred hand rises to sweep her silvery hair off her shoulders, before pressing fingers into her cheek in brief thought. Then, there is a rustle of cloth as the woman draws close to you before leaning close to you, close enough to touch lips. "Miss him already?" she enquires.
You have emoted: Sryaen's expression remains neutral as Elene draws close. "Like a boil on my ass," he replies flatly. "Let's step inside before he sniffs his way here," he adds, motioning with his hands so she will allow him to stand.
A cloaked figure's pale gaze gleams and her lips twist briefly.
You have emoted: Sryaen inhales sharply before gently swinging his body upright out of the hammock. He gestures with a hand as he moves towards the door, his slender fingertips curling around the handle.
A stately marble foyer.
The foyer is enormous, esoteric, powerful, cornered by mighty pillars of marble that grip at the
ceiling high above. The center of the room depresses approximately a foot into a circular basin of sorts, edged with cushions to accommodate guests. A middling-sized fire pit is dug into the center, exuding a comfortable heat to stave away the chill air. Set into the northern wall are a mighty pair of wooden doors, painted in deep red, and near them, a staircase that hugs the wall, leading up to the balcony above. Through marble archways on either side of the room can be seen a study and atrium. Several settings of decorative swords, emblazoned and painted with red and green heraldry, cross eternally on the walls. A three-sconce decoration of faceted amethyst has been mounted on the wall here. A cloaked figure is here. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands.You see exits leading north (open pine door), northeast (open pine door), east, west, up, and out (closed pine door).
Without much flair, you say, "Ta-da."
You have emoted: Sryaen folds his slender arms casually across his chest while gesturing with a
fingertip. "Well? Have a look around. I know you didn't come down here to just stand in my foyer," he says in his usual low, harsh tone.
"Hmm," Elene murmurs, now that she feels safe enough to draw down a profane cloak of ambiguity. Her gaze flickers to and fro, before she steps forward and onwards into the house.
Elene licks her lips.
A shadowy atrium.
Only the occasional, fleeting star is visible past the dark clouds blanketing the sky above. Shadows swirl all around this rather large, open room. Exquisitely tinted glass windows shield most of the atrium from the outside light, adding a slight jade tint to the area due to the decoration of two greenish serpents entwined together upon the windows. There are several benches here, pushed along the edges of the room, to allow easier access to the main feature of this room. Underneath the window, on the far edge, is a well-kept garden, glowing softly with violet and dark-bluish hues. A large picnic basket lined with a gray plaid quilt sits here. There are 10 twilight blue roses here. Elene Arcan, Savant of Jherza is here. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands. You see a single exit leading east.
Ichored lips part to form a mirthless smile as Elene's gaze rakes across her surroundings. Shadows rise on all sides, the gloom of the surroundings almost suffocating-- save for the soft jade tint from the high windows.
You have emoted: Sryaen casually leans against the doorway, his arms still folded across his chest as his gaze lingers upon Elene's figure. "You never answered me last week," he observes simply. "Why you came down to visit."
A sharp turn upon a heel brings Elene striding back to you. Not much is seen upon her features, the mask of polite neutrality taking over her demeanour as she steps past you, off to visit the rest of the house.
Within a sandy training pit.
Emerging from the long hallway leads into this stalwart training yard. Thick marble pillars border the perimeter, through which the light is filtered into a harsh grid over the court. Mounted on a rearward wall, a lion's head of granite and obsidian cries out in never-ending, frozen umbrage. It roars a steady current of clear water, collected beneath in a basin, set flush against the wall. The yard proper is a wide and somewhat sunken pit, accessible by either the perimeter steps or by a daring hop in. Tons of fine, black sand fill the pit, deep enough to sink ones foot in but shallow enough that a fall still carries the impact of the harder marble beneath. At the arena's periphery an iron weapon rack juts out of the sand, brimming with menacing weapons, some blunted and perfect for more innocuous training, others decidedly more dangerous. The continent of Sapience unfolds in miniature across the face of a war table. An ebon-grey cabinet filled with practice weapons is mounted here. Elene Arcan, Savant of Jherza is here. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands. You see exits leading north and east (open pine door).
Her voice soft and silken, Elene Arcan, Savant of Jherza says, "Do I need a reason to visit you, my Sryaen?"
You have emoted: Making no attempt to answer that question, Sryaen offers one of his own, following behind Elene and idly tapping his knuckles against the war table. "Is he a new student of yours?" he asks, arching a slender eyebrow towards her.
Having lost interest in house viewing now that she has achieved it, Elene returns her full and
unrelenting attention upon you. Silver scars stretch and mar the surface of every available skin,
the old trauma of past having survived through the years. Bare feet makes no sound as she traverses the floor, eliminating all distance between you and her. "I have new students," she elaborates, clarifies, and then tilts her head to the side. "And it seems he's very jealous of you."
You have emoted: Pressing his knuckles lightly against the table, Sryaen allows his emerald gaze to search Elene's face. "Really?" he responds, sounding genuinely surprised. "And here I was jealous of just how much he seemed to be in tact. And under the delusion that you didn't own him," he continues, his lips curling into a faint sneer as the words escape his mouth.
A faint tinkling of laughter, and Elene leans forward and across the table to reach you. The woman's hands seize ahold of your uniform, dragging you to her.
You have emoted: Sryaen doesn't resist the motion, instead taking a half step towards Elene as his eyes remain locked upon her features, his expression seeming unimpressed.
The other hand of Elene brushes gently past your face, fingers outlining your jaw before flitting
upwards to trace your lips. And then, the woman finishes her inspection by circling your eyes. "I
took an ear from him. I'd very much like to take your eyes. It seems it hasn't lasted for very long. My personalised brand for students."
You have emoted: Sryaen lifts a slender hand in a motion to grip at Elene's wrist with his fingertips.Upon hearing her words, anger flashes visibly across his features. "An ear? A -fucking- ear?" he hisses, bits of spittle flying past his lips. He exhales a slow, fluid breath and his expression and body language suddenly become more neutral. "You'll need to get permission to take any more from me," he states firmly yet cryptically.
"SHE TOOK MY FUCKING EYES. GOUGED THEM OUT. AND ALL NAOS GOT WAS HIS POOR LITTLE MONGREL EAR CUT OFF," Sryaen's internal dialogue screams within his head.
"Permission?" The word is spoken icily, Elene's gaze flattening as a snarl is ripped from her lips.
Madness seeps into her features, chasing away her polite, calm demeanour and leaving behind the true nature of the woman. Her arm tugs violently, muscles rippling as she bodily drags you across an immense, detailed war table. "I own you, student. I molded you, Sryaen. Why does everyone have to PISS ME OFF TODAY?"
You have emoted: Sryaen slams the tip of his dirk into the war table, its tip slicing across the
wooden surface in an attempt to slow the sudden, violent motion. His features twist darkly, rage and hatred overtaking his countenance. "I said what I said," he barks through gritted teeth. "Unless you want to 'discuss' it," he teases, flicking his tongue across his lips in a familiar gesture.
Another vicious snarl, the countenance of Elene twisted beyond recognition. The grip upon your
uniform is impossibly tight, and though her action to drag you over to her is slowed by the dagger stabbed into the table, she doesn't seem to care. Her features draw close, and her breath feels warm against your face as she murmurs, "I. Want. Your. Eyes."
You have emoted: His fingertips curling around the hilt in a white-knuckle grip, Sryaen emits a
breathy grunt as he wrenches the dagger from the table. He dips his head towards Elene, hissing a low whisper against her cheek.
You murmur to Elene, "I heard a story about how you got your fucking jaw ripped off."
You have emoted: Sryaen pulls back briefly as if to gauge Elene's reaction before he continues, "You want to do that shit, you go tear apart your new toy. You do not do it with me."
Her anger explodes in tremendous fashion. Elene's body trembles with unmitigated rage, the trigger of which does not actually seem to be caused by you. The expression upon her features is terrifyingly alien, the woman so far gone in her emotions. "I hate all of you," she hisses, "I hate every single one of you." She lets go of her grip upon your uniform now, her scarred hand swiftly darting over to snare your neck in a crushing grasp. "Why does no one want to indulge me?" She rambles on. "Am I unwanted? Am I too much of a pushover?"
Elene starts to wield a jade sacrificial dagger in her left hand.
You have emoted: Sryaen's voice comes in a low, choking noise as Elene's fingertips curl around histhroat. He lashes out with his other hand to curl the tip of the whip around one of the cabinet legs and his arm flexes powerfully while he tugs back hard to send the weapon rack in her direction. His eyes widen at seeing the jade dagger in Elene's hands, and his jugular pulses with adrenaline beneath her grip.
With surprising flexibility and agility, Elene leaps upon an immense, detailed war table, narrowly
avoiding the weapon rack as it crashes over towards her. She nearly loses her balance as the impact of furniture against furniture resounds in the room, but then uses her grip upon your neck to steady herself. There is no rational thought in the Azudim's palid gaze as she sends a jade sacrificial dagger stabbing down towards your face.
You have emoted: Deftly flipping his dirk in his hand, Sryaen lifts it to send the tip in a brutal,
stabbing motion towards the back of Elene's calf while her grip keeps him pinned to the table. In an attempt to minimize damage, he shifts his chin an inch to the side. His mouth contorts as a bloodcurdling scream tears its way out of his throat as Elene's dagger slices effortlessly past the flesh and muscle of his right cheek, eliciting a satisfying gushing of blood that spatters across the table.
Pain registers to Elene as she hisses in response, her pale gaze flickering with some shaken form of clarity-- but it is temporary, and madness consumes her fully in its grasp as she snarls like an enraged animal. Blood stains an immense, detailed war table as she struggles with you, her dagger continue to carve a careless trail of carnage across those features.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Good morning, Squire."
Harshly, you hiss afar to Kalena, "HELP." His voice trails off into what can almost be certain to be a gurgle of blood."
You have emoted: Sryaen wrenches the dagger down, tearing the tip further down Elene's calf towards your ankle before his fingertips release their grip on the hilt and shadows pour forth from his palm. His eyes go wild as he screams horrifically, moving to tear his face away from the dagger carving up his face but leaving bits of flesh and muscle pinned to the table. Maneuvering with surprising agility, he slips underneath Elene and moves to dive into the shadows shrouding the room.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "What is going on?? The door is locked?"
Blood spills in large quantities down Elene's now lamed leg, your dagger slicing through sinew and tendons in a crippling pull of the blade. The man, however, has put himself away from her reach as you maneuver with agility, sliding underneath her to seek comfort in the shadows.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Sryaen, I need you to talk to me. I cant prism to you, I cant
brazier you.. I cant get to you."
You have set a new description. This is how you will now appear:
He is a typical Azudim is a long-limbed, feral creature with flawless skin the color of ash. Arcane runes zig-zag across what flesh can be seen in seemingly calculated design, accentuating the curvature of muscle or outlining solid, powerful bone. His face has been brutally carved up and his torso is absolutely covered in his own blood.
You have emoted: Sryaen slides across the floor leading towards the second story balcony, blood pouring from his face and leaving a clear trail.
*Sry moves, falls from his balcony to the foyer to let Kalena in*
Your pose is now set as:
Sryaen is here laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.
Kalena slings open the door and nearly trips over you, her boots leaving bloody prints as she darts around you to clear the area. "Who.. Elene?" she asks, running back and dropping next to to you on her knees. "What happened?"
His face brutally carved up and making it difficult to understand him through all the blood, you
say, "Grghh..mmnhhh."
From afar, Elene hisses harshly to you, "Fine." The woman's voice exudes tiredness, the anger
previously filling her subsiding into little more than just bitterness. "Have it your way, Sryaen.
I'm going home.""
You have emoted: Sryaen reaches out with a powerful hand to grip at Kalena's boots and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
Kalena works her way around you, lifting you to rest against her knees in an attempt to keep you from choking on your own blood. Unsure of what to do, she digs out a crafting cloth from her pack and tries to clean off some of the blood. "Okay, okay. Calm yourself." she murmurs, attempting a soothing. "You're safe, you're safe." she continues speaking while wiping blood from your mouth. "Can you tell me who did this?"
You have emoted: Sryaen tilts his head to the side, coughing up copious amounts of blood from the bloody swathe carved past the flesh and muscle upon his right cheek. His eyes roll lazily around in his sockets as he struggles to look at Kalena. His chest rises and falls in heavy, labored breathing as he struggles to speak; his tongue moving visibly behind the wide opening in the side of his face.
Harshly, you hiss afar to Kalena, "I fell down the stairs.."
Kalena notices the gaping hole in your cheek and does her best to keep her facial features calm and comforting, lightly sliding the already blood-soaked cloth to your cheek and apply pressure. "You have to stay with me, okay? Stay awake, keep your focus on me Sryaen." she states softly down to the man resting in her lap. "Listen to my voice, and just breathe. You're safe. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Sry.. I am not a fool."
You have emoted: His brow contorting in pain, Sryaen exhales another slow, labored breath as he lifts his hands to rest them atop his chest in an almost defeated manner. His blood-flecked emerald gaze shifts to focus upon Kalena.
Harshly, you hiss afar to Kalena, "I am fine now, really. Thank you. I just need a moment.."
Kalena tilts her chin down to examine you closely, searching for further wounds while blindly
digging for a clean cloth. A soft smile breaks across her features while her head slowly shakes from side to side. "You dont get rid of me that easily, Squire." she states, her voice still calm and soothing while she uses the new cloth to dab away blood still keeping pressure with the opposite.
Kalena looks up at Eoros from her place on the floor with you halfway pulled into her lap, the pair resting in a pool of blood. "He was attacked." she tells her sister while she continues holding pressure to the gaping hole in your cheek. "We need to close this wound on his cheek or he damn well may bleed out."
You have emoted: Sryaen's eyes flick towards Eoros as he remains silent, though emitting a low grunt as Kalena maintains pressure against the hole on the side of his face.
Kalena shifts from side to side to help guide you a little farther into her lap, leaning forward
over the man and lightly pulling away the cloth she's been holding firmly to your cheek. The petite redhead holds her breath to keep her features neutral while she appraises the injury then covers it back up. Turning her glance down to you, "Can you breathe alright?"
You have emoted: Sryaen offers a single, faint nod of his head as his body language relaxes
somewhat. His eyes shift from Kalena and Eoros up towards the broken balcony, the railing splintered as if someone had come crashing through it from the second floor above.
Eoros appears in flash, her posture still sleepy but her eyes are bright and alert. Brushing the
sand off her uniform she seems to take in the situation with a raptor-like gaze, "your methods are a bit more gentler, sister" she murmurs as she approaches her twins side. She kneels and leans forward, her fingers lightly touching the bandage to move it slightly to check the severity of it. "I tend to cleanse in fire" she finally says, "but a tailors hands.."
You have emoted: Sryaen gives a more vigorous nod of his head at Eoros' words and he gestures towards her with a slender hand.
Kalena follows your gaze upwards while Eoros looks at the wound beneath her hand. Eyes squint while examining the broken balcony then lowering her chin to look at where your body is. At the nod in her lap, she looks back to you then to Eoros. "With the size of this wound and lack of tissue sister, I'll have to take skin from his back and place a few stitches.. then you'll need to singe it. There is not enough for me to close and stitches will just rip." she says, free hand reaching forward to rub lightly at your chest.
Lady Kalena Kavoros tells you, "Sryaen.. this is going to be excruciating for us to fix."
Eoros is already moving before the gesture stops, a dagger pulled from some hidden crevice in her uniform as booted feet take her towards the fire pit. Her movements are quick, efficient as she pulls a bottle from her pack to cleanse the blade before even placing it in the fire. From her
crouched position, she turns to look over her shoulder, "We will need to be quick then, are you
ready?"
You have emoted: Sryaen clenches his jaw as best he can, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in pain once more. His blood-flecked gaze shifts once more to Kalena and he nods again, curling his fingertips into tight, white-knuckled fists by his side.
"Set your blade in the fire, sister. I need you to support him and hold him steady so I can get a
piece of skin from his back. We need to be quick about it" Kalena tells Eoros calmly, shifting her
weight to get a grip under you and hefting him upright. Using her shoulder, she holds the man in place while digging out a needle and thread.
Eoros leaves the dagger in the fire, letting the blade heat up before shes moving over and kneeling. The knees of her uniform soaked in blood, she reaches forward for you to brace him against her body, one hand moving to support the bandage so Kalena could move.
You have emoted: Breathing a low grunt as his body moves, Sryaen creases his brow slightly. The tightening of his facial features elicits a low growl from him while his eyes follow Eoros and
Kalena.
Kalena lifts your shirt from behind while Eoros supports the much larger man, petite hands roaming across exposed skin to find a suitable piece. She pulls out a very sharp blade and a clean cloth, cleaning the cool steel. Pouring out the remainder of her whiskey on the blade, she continues to wipe the blade clean while looking at Eoros. Finally satisfied with the cleanliness of her blade, she scoots back over to get behind you once more. With a steady and practiced hand, she inserts the blade tip carefully underneath your skin while making sure not to puncture the muscles beneath. She moves the knife quickly but gently in a circle while she removes the patch of skin, careful to not destroy the edges or inflict more pain than is necessary. Once the final cut is made, she packs the new wound with a bandage and hurries up off her feet to circle around Eoros. Kneeling next to the pair, she tilts your head to the side and fits the new patch of skin against the gaping hole. With a nod, she digs out a needle and threat and sets to work with stitching the skin in place on the four corners of the skin. Satisfied, she drops the needle and moves around you once more but this time taking a seat behind the much larger man and wrapping arms and legs around you tightly to hold him in place. "Now, sister." she murmurs with the nod of her head.
You have emoted: His throaty growl intensifying briefly as Kalena moves and works behind him, Sryaengrits the teeth on the untouched side of his face while his body stiffens as if to brace himself for the next round of incoming pain.
Eoros tilts her head, golden eyes watching her sister's progress before the weight of the man is
taken off her. She shifts from her knees and towards the fire pit, her hand reaching for the blade of her dagger with a soft hiss and a mumbled 'should have used the longer handle' before her booted feet take her back to their side. She nods, her hand braced against your head to hold it in place before her other comes up to place the flat of the blade with a sizzled hiss.
You have emoted: Sryaen's neck muscles strain visibly as he struggles to contain a muffled scream. His arms tense powerfully by his side and his fingernails claw uselessly against the marble flooring.
Kalena winces from behind you at the sound of your sizzling flesh, her arms and legs gripping
tighter to the man. Bright green eyes set on Eoros though she whispers towards you in an attempt to offer some form of comfort. "You're okay, I know it hurts but it's almost over.. you've got this, pain is temporary."
You have emoted: His legs kicking slightly as he writhes in pain within Kalena's lap, Sryaen exhales a heavy, labored breath out of the undamaged side of his mouth. His facial features remain contorted in agony while his nostrils flare to accompany a sudden intake of breath.
Eoros' features are impassive, teeth gritted as her jaw clenches. She holds it until she is sure
everything is held together before she pulls it away and tosses it somewhere near her feet. The hand that is braced against your head is now suddenly gentle, a light stroke given before she pulls back and crouches down. "That should do it" she murmurs, "a bit of whiskey to help with the pain." Her hands pull back, raptors gaze suddenly filling with more warmth than before as she moves to get a cup.
You have emoted: Sryaen puffs out a heavy, shuddering breath; bits of saliva trailing from his lip. His eyelids slip closed briefly while his fingertips curl loosely around the cup that's slid into
his hands, and his body relaxes visibly.
Kalena exhales a soft breath at Eoros' words, relaxing her tightly held grip around you. She
produces some clean cloths from her pack and beings to shred a particularly long piece into strips. She first starts to dress the wound she created on your back, pulling out the packing and crushing up some anabiotic pills onto a clean scrap. She presses the treated scrap of cloth to your back and uses the shredded strips to secure it in place around your body, tying it off tightly. "His face should be left exposed until the burns scab, dont you think?" she asks Eoros.
Nodding, Lady Eoros Kavoros says, "Yes, and proper cleaning on it."
Kalena stays behind you for the time, giving the man a support to lean against. "You'll need to see me in a day or two so I can clean it and keep it from getting infected." she tells you softly.
"Until then, nothing but rest for you. No fighting, no hunting, nothing." she directs, pushing
herself upright and gripping you underneath the arms to help the man up. "To bed with you, Squire."
You have emoted: Sryaen emits another low grunt as he leans heavily against Kalena; the tall Azudim struggling to stand against the height of the smaller Idreth. He gestures towards the northern door with a slender, bloodied hand.
A secluded bedroom, shaded by an ancient tree.
The bedroom presents an illusion of open space, with large, wide windows set shallow into the walls, their edges hidden by marble pillars the diameter of a man's forearm. In the rear center of the room there is a large bed with a thick, wooden frame. All of the bedposts save for one are enormous and hand-carved with old Ankyrean glyphs; the last joins a tree that grows from the corner of the room, its roots dug into an earthen portion of the floor just for the purpose. The tree serves as both support and canopy, sheltering those who would sleep beneath. The granite walls of the room are decorated with the hides of beasts and hanged trappings of various origin: Numerological trinkets, Spirean signet rings, geometrically-shaped crystals, and various crests and insignia from the offices of the Infernal Knights. Resting against the wall is an ornately carved oaken wardrobe. A huge bed is here, carved from oak and piled in furs and cushions. Lady Kalena Kavoros is here. She wields a shining steel longsword in her left hand and a shining steel longsword in her right. You see a single exit leading south (open pine door).
Kalena does her best to support you while slowly moving into the bedroom and to the bed side. She keeps a firm grip while moving around the man to gently lower you to the bed, the tiny woman struggle with the vast size difference of the two. She pulls a pillow down to make sure you have somewhere soft to lay your head then moves back to lift your legs into the bed.
You have emoted: His expression twitching in familiar recognition upon entering the bedroom, Sryaen allows himself to be guided towards the bed until his frame is situated comfortably atop it. He folds his hands calmly atop his lap as his gaze shifts from the ceiling to the room and then finally to Kalena.
"Get some rest, and alert me when you wake. I'll need to tend to your cheek." Kalena directs, gaze lingering on the freshly singed skin. "Do you want me to stay while you rest?" the redhead offers.
You have emoted: Sryaen offers a single shake of his head, but otherwise doesn't move at first. His chest rises and falls to accompany a more normal breathing pattern, and he lifts a slender hand towards Kalena. His jaw tenses slightly as if he were going to attempt to speak, but only manages to swallow hard; the flesh upon his throat shifting visibly during the motion.
Kalena gives a singular nod in return while leaning forward to pull a blanket over you. "Alert me
when you wake, Squire." the petite woman repeats while giving a last look over the man. "Rest."
I apologize if I'm a little rusty with my emotes; it has been 10 years. Heh. But I'm glad to get back in the saddle with roleplay. Here's to many more logs and interactions!
Also, major props to Kalena who got ambushed with this RP as soon as she logged in. Eoros for so willing to jump in and help. And Elene who I've missed RPing with so, so much.
Sryaen
10
Re: Small Ideas - AIN'T NO COMBAT THREAD
I appreciate that you can check your style appearances by the scroll type... but how about an inverse on the style list where instead of doing STYLE [style] VIEW, you can do STYLE [skill] VIEW? So instead of having to go STYLE LIST and scroll down my list of styles and hope to guess which ones are tied to my skills, I can do STYLE CRUX VIEW and I get a list of the styles I have learned for the Archivist Crux skill in one list.
It'd make it a lot easier for someone like me who's style list looks like this:
To decide what I wanna use for my hunting skills. (Fun fact, excluding the friendly scrolls, most of my style scrolls ARE for Crux. And it just gets tedious firing off small variations of the same command across 6-7 different styles to figure out which ones I wanna use.)
It'd make it a lot easier for someone like me who's style list looks like this:
To decide what I wanna use for my hunting skills. (Fun fact, excluding the friendly scrolls, most of my style scrolls ARE for Crux. And it just gets tedious firing off small variations of the same command across 6-7 different styles to figure out which ones I wanna use.)
Axius
5
Re: Quotes & Misquotes: Falling Off of Bridges
To preface this....
@Ayanala and Oonagh plotted to play a game of dress up, she picked the materials, we emoted stringing them on @Stine and thenn......
Ayanala and Oonagh now are in hiding, taking applications for the aetolia witness protection program anyone.
@Ayanala and Oonagh plotted to play a game of dress up, she picked the materials, we emoted stringing them on @Stine and thenn......
Ayanala and Oonagh now are in hiding, taking applications for the aetolia witness protection program anyone.
Oonagh
10
Re: To Kill a Whale (and have to eat it)
Yeah (munch munch munch), it was totally her! (slurp slurp munch chew)
Taiyang
5
Re: To Kill a Whale (and have to eat it)
That's what you get for murdering that poor whale.Iosyne watching Slyphe berate Elene for killing the whale:
Tedrunai
5
Kanivara's Tainting
This is old, but a log that I go back to and read when I'm missing the Carnifex. Those feels crep up from time to time, but this was one I was especially proud of. Hope you all enjoy it.
Chapel of Souls.
Hewn out of blood-stained stones, this small chapel is dimly lit by guttering torches, with a bleak blackness radiating from more than just the ever-present shadows. Narrow windows allow slender slivers of illumination to pool into the room, the glass stained a deep, lurid crimson. The result is a wash of dusky light and dancing darkness, skittering across the chamber in unnerving movement. A large altar dominates one wall, inset with a deep basin. Dried rivulets of blood cling to its obsidian bowl, hinting at an ominous purpose, while carvings of carnage and slaughter line the stone above the piece, enhancing the room's minatory air. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Ominiously silent, a vicious warhound stands here, teeth bared. Kanivara is here, methodically draining blood from the nearby corpses into the basin in the altar. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands. A murky darkness has settled in here.
You see a single exit leading northeast (open pine door).
You have emoted: Her form cloaked in a swath of souls, Xenia reveals herself by stepping from the long, flickering-torchlight shadows to stand in the drying blood of the corpses. Her feet are bare, taking on a rusty hue in the congealing stain of blood and the rest of her form covered only by the engulfing skin of chitinous exoskeleton armour.
Kanivara's left ear flicks as she finishes sluicing blood into the basin. Once she finishes, she turns to you, giving you an expressionless salute.
Kanivara morphs before your eyes, taking on the form of Rolk.
You have emoted: "Tell me of your vigil," Xenia asks, cutting the silence in a low growling tone, "What did you contemplate?"
Quietly, almost reverently, Kanivara says, "I contemplated my place in the Keep, the path I took to get here, the work I must do further, and what is to come next."
You have emoted: Xenia's green eyes pierce Kanivara with an intensity that studies the other Idreth. The streaks of blood trailing from flecks which have begun to dry and harden on Kanivara's face. The crimson, now brown, stains that decorate the knight's hands. "I wonder what my Commander, Moirean Seirath would say on such a thing?" she ponders and then holds her palm up, unifying and then summoning her soulstone.
You have emoted: Xenia's eyes close, her countenance an expression of extreme focus as a pulsing soulstone begins to pulse within her grasp.
Kanivara nods once, her head tilting curiously to one side. She makes no move to clean the blood off herself, leaving her face and hands stained. Beyond the spatter left by her hammer and the violence she dealt to the denizens of Torston, if the body of a Grook child behind her is any evidence, she painted a spiral on her forehead in the blood of her victims.
You have emoted: The glow illuminating Xenia's hand slowly grows, shifting from a dim electric-blue, brightening with each pulse until it begins to strobe with blinding light.
The light dims, in its wake the ethereal form of an imp comes into existence. The imp is small in stature, face and eyes a never ending stir of mischief and play, her head adorned with tiny horns and wild curls of auburn hair.
Kanivara closes her eyes partially, her own eyes' glow brightening in response to the blinding light as a sort of reflexive defense. She waits patiently, curiously, until the Imp appears and the light dims. Recognizing the form as the former Commander, she gives a brief salute.
You have emoted: Xenia's eyes flicker open and spotting the imp before herself, she straightens immediately into a stance of attention, hand flying up to her head in salute. "Commander," she barks out, all authority and edge to her tone gone and replaced with a recruit's eagerness. The imp's head turns sharply to regard you, a malicious smile working its way into her lip as she turns to casually regard the Commander. "Ser," the ethereal imp remarks in cold tone, "what is the reason for your summons?"
You have emoted: "A Tainting, Commander," Xenia calmly responds as her hands settle in a fold at the small of her back. "The knight which stands before us here, Kanivara Sor'Tirivan, is to be tested. She speaks now of her vigil, in which she contemplated her path thus far and her future within the Keep."
Kanivara remains at attention as you speaks to the apparition, her ears and eyes focused on the two before her. She waits, taking her cues from her own Commander, though a slight smile touches her lips as she hears your tone towards the former Commander.
You have emoted: The imp's head tips in the faintest of a nod and she turns to Kanivara, her form shifting suddenly from imp to that of an Azudim. The woman, lithe in build, stands no more than about five foot, head still adorned in a set of horns and auburn hair. She regards Kanivara with a calm, cool stare that betrays little of what she may think beyond a haughty air. "She looks weak," she comments idly to Xenia, shooting the standing Commander a snide look of disapproval. "Tell me, Ser Sor'To--whatever," her tone an icy mock as she speaks Kanivara's name, "how is it you got this far and what will we stand to gain?"
(Tells): You tell Satomi, "I am currently tainting Kanivara, you should come if you can. However, I summoned Moirean's spirit and she is now currently questioning her."
(Tells): You tell Satomi, "Or soul, rather."
Calmly, Kanivara says, "I got this far through the strength of my soul, which is far stronger than my body. Through the strength of my mind, which has kept me alive through tribulations uncountable. Through the strength of my heart, which knows no limits."
(Tells): You tell Satomi, "If you feel that she has pulled away from you, this is why, because I have summoned all of her, which is within the Tainted soul network, in order to assist me in this tainting."
Kanivara pauses, one ear flicking as she ponders things. "What the Keep stands to gain is a soul that will not break, a drive that will not end, and a heart that will not cease its functions. I am whatever I choose to be, and I choose to be a Carnifex of the Shadow Keep."
Satomi places her hands on her hips as she stands near the entrance, watching quietly.
You have emoted: The Azudim woman's cool expression turns with a sneer at Kanivara's words. "Strength of mind, strength of soul, strength of heart," she bites back with a snarl, "all things with no tangibility. Fine, I will grant you that these things have brought you here but I wonder now if the knights I left forgot the importance of strength of body." She turns back now to face Xenia and then Satomi. "Ser's," she commands with a sweeping hand towards Kanivara, "seeing as I can not do so myself, will you two test this knight's body?"
You have emoted: Until Moirean's address, Xenia's eyes remain locked on her, their only break coming to follow the ethereal Commander's gaze towards the entrance and Satomi. She nods at the Tainted knight a silent form of greeting. "As always, just in time Satomi," she says with light tone and a faint grin, "why don't you take the first crack?"
Satomi chuckles softly as a fond glimmer lights her eyes, her gaze on the manifested soul for but a moment before she focuses her gaze on Kanivara, "It is true. The things you say are important, Kanivara, but if you cannot survive physical toll of upholding the ideals of the Carnifex.." As she speaks, she walks closer to Kanivara before taking hers chin with her fingers and holding firm, "How can we rely on you when we fight side by side?" Her final words are met with the sudden stench of decay as the flesh of Kanivara's chin and neck burst into puffs of rainbow-colored dust, the sudden removal of skin revealing muscle beneath. As she pulls her hand away she casually takes a step back and, with a sudden kick, strikes Kanivara just above the knee leaving the bones unconnected.
Kanivara lets out a soft startled grunt as the skin of her neck and chin disappears, one hand reaching instinctively for her warhammer. The warhammer ends up being her support as her knee ends up dislocated, the pain drawing little more than a soft hiss from her. Settling her weight on her good leg, she stands at her full height, ignoring the blood cascading down her chest and saturating her clothes. "That all you've got?" she asks tauntingly, tucking her wounded leg behind her, preparing for another attack.
Satomi grasps Kanivara by the neck, casually supporting some of the weight as she closes her other hand into a fist and begins to slowly, methodically punch her in the face. Each blow coems with a harsh 'thud' with the cheekbone breaking after only a few strikes, though once it shatters she relents and shoves her backwards to fall. Taking a moment to examine her nails, she steps forward and focuses on her. A moment of silence is followed by the sound of metal being forcibly bent and warped, the armor being pushed in on by telekinetic force into a position that barely allows room for breathing with points and folds being in all the wrong places.
Kanivara reacts instinctively, trying to block Satomi's punches. Each one lands despite her efforts, though, and the sound of bone cracking echoes through the space before she falls to her back. A short, sharp squeak of pain escapes her before all sound is viciously clamped back. Her breathing quickens as a sort of battle fury builds, a mixture of shadowy tendrils and brilliant emerald essence beginning to twist around herself. The miasma vanishes as her armor begins to bend and warp around her and even into her, her body twisting with the twisting of the armor. Her natural flexibility becomes quite evident as the armor warps. Her breathing comes in short, sharp gasps, followed by a demented-sounding giggle. "Thufek makes you look weak, Tomi," she says teasingly, a hint of pain lacing her voice.
You have emoted: The ethereal Commander stands in a set silence, her eyes narrowed into an assessing glare. "She yet mocks you, Satomi," she asserts in neutral tone to Satomi, "break her." A step back and to the left, Xenia stands at attention, eyes set forward in a focus-less stare that pans the scene of the battered knight.
Satomi murmurs a soft, "And here I was being nice.." A light laugh echoes through the room as she straddles Kanivara's waist and, dropping down to her knees, takes hers head in her hands. She leans forward, wisps of green, noxious gas oozes from her mouth and she presses a firm kiss to hers lips, forcing the cloud to fill hers lungs and leave her choking for air. She climbs to her feet as, with a casual kick to the broken side of Kanivara's face, she tilts her head back and smiles blissfully. The ground begins to shift and rumble, the solid structure of the Keep reducing the majority of it, before a sudden shift causes a thick spike to burst from the ground and, piercing the weakened structure of hers armor, punches through hers guts and impales her to the ground. The ground ceasing to rumble, Satomi looks over her shoulder with a crazed excitement in her eye and asks, "Does it hurt, darling?"
Kanivara grunts and writhes as Satomi kisses her, trying to fight the other woman off her. The gas leaves her choking and coughing, a rough sound issuing forth from her, blood speckling her lips and trickling from the corner of her mouth as her lungs are corroded and her body starts to retch. The kick to her face draws another sharp squeak from her. A harsh, hacking laugh starts to escape her throat before it's cut short by the spike of ground impaling her through her guts. The glow of her eyes dies out briefly before resurging fiercely, glowing brighter than usual. "Heh heh heh," she rasps. "Nothing... you can throw at me, my dearest heart," she murmurs, taking a pause to breathe, her breath rattling in her chest, "compares to what I endured growing up. You.... you won't... break me." Blood pours from her midsection and neck, her skin going pale as she slowly but surely exsanguinates. "I showed... Thufek twice... I will -die- before I break."
You have emoted: Xenia springs suddenly forward, grabbing hold of Satomi's shoulder and using it for a thrust of momentum as she surges towards Kanivara, boot connecting with a sickening crack to Kanivara's jaw. "You just," she barrels down into Kanivara, driving a fist squarely into the knight's face, "never know," it rises and falls again with another pummel. "When to shut," it crashes in again, "the fuck," and again, "up."
Satomi gently caresses the tip of the spike as she watches Kanivara, still smiling, before murmuring a soft, "Don't die yet, love." She licks her lips before giving the spike a tap and, kissing it's bloody side, exhales into it. Her efforts begin to bear fruit as the spike begins to glow a dull red. It takes a few seconds, but the bloody wound begins to smoke and char as the growing heat burns the wounds mostly shut.
Kanivara finally lets out a full-on scream as you assaults her. When the scream dies, no further sound comes from her beyond the breaking of bones as her jaw, nose, and other cheekbone break. Her face bruised and bloodied, she can't speak even if she wants to. She writhes as the spike begins to heat and cauterize the wound around it. Within moments, though, the presence of her soul seems to grow smaller, more compact and distant. Her body goes limp and unresponsive.
Satomi raises an eyebrow as she glances at you, her foot idly caressing Kanivara's thigh, "I think we found her limit."
L Kanivara:
She is a powerful Idreth of Tsol'aa heritage and stands barely five feet tall. Her hip-length red hair is bound half-back in ornate braids. Her long ears extend six inches beyond the back of her head, and a pair of jagged, black-edged insectoid wings are on her back. Her emerald eyes are peculiar, sclera and pupil both a vivid shade of green, the iris barely delineated, a faint emerald glow illuminating them. Her face is delicately-formed, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Strikingly, a pattern of black swirls has been inked around her left eye. The tattoo arcs over her eyebrow and onto her forehead, covering half her forehead, and downward across her cheek where it ends parallel to the curve of her bow-shaped, red-painted lips. Any bare skin below her collarbone, save for her hands and feet, is inked in a spiralling, vine-like pattern of black, similar to the tattoo on her face. Wrapped around the shoulder and secured with a copper band is a paired shoulder cord showing colors of teal and crimson. She walks with the boon of Severn.
(covering to the knee) : a Carnifex's pleated woolen skirt
(defining the lips) : a silver moonstone piercing
(hanging from the shoulders) : shoulder cords in teal and crimson leather
(around one wrist) : a silver and moonstone bracelet
(dangling just beneath the throat) : silver moonstone warhammer and serpent necklace
(hanging open) : a Carnifex's side-buttoning black wool longcoat
(around the neck) : a small silver snowflake pendant
(around one wrist) : a bracelet of iridescent pearls
(worn on a finger) : a wrapping bird ring
(tied around her hips) : an ethereal spiderweb knitted lace shawl
(worn on a finger) : a delicate platinum ivy band
(tucked into her skirt) : a tight-fitting dark shirt
(wrapped around her waist several times) : a teal silk sash weaponbelt
(hanging from her weaponbelt) : a secure brass keyring
(polished neatly) : tall, thick-soled, gray military boots
(pinned through her braids) : an elegant silver-threaded mahogany hairpin
(plonked rakishly on her head) : a 'lucky' lure-hooked fishing hat
You have emoted: The smell of burning flesh curdles the air, the scent seeming to give Xenia pause there, hovering over Kanivara, fist raised and set for further assault. She glances over her shoulder towards the offensive odor, nose flaring in distaste before turning back to look over the fallen knight. With her free hand she reaches down, grabbing the collar of clothing and armor alike, to jerk Kanivara upwards for inspection. Her face hovers intimately close to Kanivara's, eyes darting this way and that over the bloodied and bruised features. She turns her head, ear but a hair’s breadth from Kanivara's nose and lips. "She breaths yet, Commander," she informs, eyes flickering towards the ethereal form of Moirean, "I stand at your command."
Kanivara breathes slowly and shallowly, her breathing slowing. Her eyes are devoid of their glow and barely show any sign of life.
You have emoted: "Leave her for me," Moirean hisses from behind Xenia as she steps forward to bend over Kanivara's slumped and broken form. "Did they break you," she coos gently over the knight as she raises a translucent hand to stroke gently over the knight's face. "Lay her down, Ser," she instructs of Xenia, who obliges as she carefully lowers Kanivara back to the ground. "Gently, now, gently," the ethereal Commander instructs in a sharp hiss, "do not deny me of my own test." There at Kanivara's side she kneels, her fingers gently stroking down Kanivara's face in a tender and nurturing fashion. "There there," she murmurs, leaning close to whisper at Kanivara's ear, "be strong."
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Where Moirean touches your cheek, a soothing trail of warmth begins to spread, arousing your inner consciousness. Bolstering it with what must be her very own.
Seeing the wound fully cauterized, Satomi hums a gentle melody as the spike slowly folds back into the floor of the Keep, leaving a hole in it's place where Kanivara's innards used to be.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Suddenly the sensation shifts, the soothing warmth growing to a burning that spreads all throughout your body. You can feel it, a poison that spreads through your soul, that burns and threatens the final threads of consciousness.
You have emoted: Moirean turns back up to regard Satomi and Xenia in a calm manner. "She awaits her final test," she says in a quiet tone to the two knights. "Drain her."
Kanivara continues to breathe slowly, though that breathing gets slower. Deep within her core, though, her soul has taken refuge in some sort of construct, a fortress of her own built to protect her soul and her own essential self. Within, the tsol'idreth fights against the poison infecting her, clinging to her existence. Her soul, fractured and scarred as it is from both life and obtaining her soulstone, doesn't give up. The poison drops her to a bare fragment of herself, but she keeps fighting.
Satomi exhales gently as her carapace begins to fall away, exposing the flesh beneath as it becomes a tightly controlled vortex of sand before her. Slowly, the sand coalesces into the form of a violet soulstone, pulsing gently. She turns her gaze to Kanivara as a line of violet shoots from her soulstone to hers chest, spreading tendrils throughout hers form as it hunts down the fragments of soul and begins to slowly drain them away into her soulstone.
You have emoted: "As you command," Xenia murmurs and reaching her hand forward, she sets a pulsing soulstone to hover just above her palm. From it violet tendrils stretch towards Kanivara's chest, drumming with a suctioning pulse that Kanivara's soul simply can not hide from.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Your consciousness slowly begins to recede, though try as you might to retain whatever shards of it remain, you simply are too weak. Images of your failures begin to plague your mind.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
I was not good enough for the Syssin, I failed there and here now, I have failed. I can not
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Your life force continues to drain, and with it, further thoughts and insecurities begin to plague your mind.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
My life, devoid of closeness and love despite the family I have so desperately attempted to form. I am alone, I lived alone. I will die alone.
Kanivara's soul slowly emerges from her body, whirling and writhing in fury. A brief flash of her as a five year old slave appears, the little tsol'aa screaming. A flash of her as a Syssin appears, worry and doubt in her expression. A flash of her at age twelve appears, sobbing and her flesh freshly-carved. Multiple times her image changes, her failures and every bit of pain she suffered becoming visible for brief moments.
Satomi gently caresses her soulstone with her fingertips as it continues to drain Kanivara, her gaze soft before she firms her expression and glances at you.
You have emoted: The haunting images of Kanivara's failures, moments of weakness and insecurities flash, one after the other, baring her soul entirely to you all. As the final image comes to light, Kanivara scorned and alone, Moirean speaks: "I see now, the struggles and constitution of this knight." Turning to Xenia and Satomi she nods, "Return this Knight's soul, bolstered and stronger than ever before."
You have emoted: The violet throbbing of Xenia's soulstone slows to a still, its hue shifting to the brighter, electric blue, its motions and waves changing direction to flow through Kanivara's chest.
Satomi rests her forehead gently against her soulstone as the flow reverses, flooding Kanivara's body with a steady stream of hers soul bolstered by her own.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Pieces of you return, your mind and consciousness growing as your soul begins to take root. Though now there is the distinct presence of others: Xenia and her unwavering sense of duty. Satomi's cunning and shrewdness for knowledge.
Kanivara's soul returns to her body, which takes a soft breath once her soul is once more within. Her breathing remains shallow but becomes steady as her soul is bolstered by your and Satomi's, and her limbs remain still. A faint light appears within her eyes as her soul takes root once more.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
You sense the presence of others still as your soul returns joined now with the soul network of all Tainted knights to come before you. Moirean's ferocity in leadership, Akarn's methodical state of mind, Jura's strict adherence to laws and authority.
Kanivara blinks several times as she begins to come to, the light in her eyes brightening, a look of childlike wonder appearing on her face.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
The last of your soul finally takes anchor, bolstered now by the strengths of all Tainted knights past. A few you recognize, Grimdale, Yettave and Argolis, while countless others hover just in the backdrop, strengths unknown and undiscovered.
Satomi leaves her soulstone to continue it's work as she kneels beside Kanivara. Spreading her arms wide, she faces upward and grits her teeth. A miasma of deep violet mixed with black and jade swirls about her as she flares her essence to an intense blaze before bending over hers form and enveloping Kanivara and herself in the blaze. Swiftly, the wounds inflicted on her begin to mend and knit back together, joints popping back into place and flesh repairing. Small bits of Kanivara's plate remain embedded in flesh, though Satomi seems unconcerned with that for the moment as her essence's burn dies away leaving her more-or-less repaired to an.. acceptable degree.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
I am not alone, and never shall I be. My service was not a failure nor was my time with the Syssin. I am strong. I am worthy. I am Tainted.
Kanivara breathes slowly and deeply as her body begins to knit, the hole in her torso knitting together visibly as her subconscious focuses on that. Her conscious mind focuses on the new sensations, the new thoughts and knowledge, and the senses she gathers from her Tainting. "I am Tainted," she whispers, her body knitting back together more fully with Satomi's aid.
You have emoted: "Rise now, Officer," Xenia's voice echoes out, the image of Moirean no longer and now returned once more to the network of Tainted souls, "and stand amongst us a Tainted Knight of the Carnifex."
Kanivara rises slowly, shaking a little as her nerves fire off with residual pain. She lifts herself to her feet, leaning on her warhammer, a grin on her lips.
-Everyone bails-
Chapel of Souls.
Hewn out of blood-stained stones, this small chapel is dimly lit by guttering torches, with a bleak blackness radiating from more than just the ever-present shadows. Narrow windows allow slender slivers of illumination to pool into the room, the glass stained a deep, lurid crimson. The result is a wash of dusky light and dancing darkness, skittering across the chamber in unnerving movement. A large altar dominates one wall, inset with a deep basin. Dried rivulets of blood cling to its obsidian bowl, hinting at an ominous purpose, while carvings of carnage and slaughter line the stone above the piece, enhancing the room's minatory air. A sigil in the shape of a small, rectangular monolith is on the ground. Ominiously silent, a vicious warhound stands here, teeth bared. Kanivara is here, methodically draining blood from the nearby corpses into the basin in the altar. She wields a blackened warhammer in her hands. A murky darkness has settled in here.
You see a single exit leading northeast (open pine door).
You have emoted: Her form cloaked in a swath of souls, Xenia reveals herself by stepping from the long, flickering-torchlight shadows to stand in the drying blood of the corpses. Her feet are bare, taking on a rusty hue in the congealing stain of blood and the rest of her form covered only by the engulfing skin of chitinous exoskeleton armour.
Kanivara's left ear flicks as she finishes sluicing blood into the basin. Once she finishes, she turns to you, giving you an expressionless salute.
Kanivara morphs before your eyes, taking on the form of Rolk.
You have emoted: "Tell me of your vigil," Xenia asks, cutting the silence in a low growling tone, "What did you contemplate?"
Quietly, almost reverently, Kanivara says, "I contemplated my place in the Keep, the path I took to get here, the work I must do further, and what is to come next."
You have emoted: Xenia's green eyes pierce Kanivara with an intensity that studies the other Idreth. The streaks of blood trailing from flecks which have begun to dry and harden on Kanivara's face. The crimson, now brown, stains that decorate the knight's hands. "I wonder what my Commander, Moirean Seirath would say on such a thing?" she ponders and then holds her palm up, unifying and then summoning her soulstone.
You have emoted: Xenia's eyes close, her countenance an expression of extreme focus as a pulsing soulstone begins to pulse within her grasp.
Kanivara nods once, her head tilting curiously to one side. She makes no move to clean the blood off herself, leaving her face and hands stained. Beyond the spatter left by her hammer and the violence she dealt to the denizens of Torston, if the body of a Grook child behind her is any evidence, she painted a spiral on her forehead in the blood of her victims.
You have emoted: The glow illuminating Xenia's hand slowly grows, shifting from a dim electric-blue, brightening with each pulse until it begins to strobe with blinding light.
The light dims, in its wake the ethereal form of an imp comes into existence. The imp is small in stature, face and eyes a never ending stir of mischief and play, her head adorned with tiny horns and wild curls of auburn hair.
Kanivara closes her eyes partially, her own eyes' glow brightening in response to the blinding light as a sort of reflexive defense. She waits patiently, curiously, until the Imp appears and the light dims. Recognizing the form as the former Commander, she gives a brief salute.
You have emoted: Xenia's eyes flicker open and spotting the imp before herself, she straightens immediately into a stance of attention, hand flying up to her head in salute. "Commander," she barks out, all authority and edge to her tone gone and replaced with a recruit's eagerness. The imp's head turns sharply to regard you, a malicious smile working its way into her lip as she turns to casually regard the Commander. "Ser," the ethereal imp remarks in cold tone, "what is the reason for your summons?"
You have emoted: "A Tainting, Commander," Xenia calmly responds as her hands settle in a fold at the small of her back. "The knight which stands before us here, Kanivara Sor'Tirivan, is to be tested. She speaks now of her vigil, in which she contemplated her path thus far and her future within the Keep."
Kanivara remains at attention as you speaks to the apparition, her ears and eyes focused on the two before her. She waits, taking her cues from her own Commander, though a slight smile touches her lips as she hears your tone towards the former Commander.
You have emoted: The imp's head tips in the faintest of a nod and she turns to Kanivara, her form shifting suddenly from imp to that of an Azudim. The woman, lithe in build, stands no more than about five foot, head still adorned in a set of horns and auburn hair. She regards Kanivara with a calm, cool stare that betrays little of what she may think beyond a haughty air. "She looks weak," she comments idly to Xenia, shooting the standing Commander a snide look of disapproval. "Tell me, Ser Sor'To--whatever," her tone an icy mock as she speaks Kanivara's name, "how is it you got this far and what will we stand to gain?"
(Tells): You tell Satomi, "I am currently tainting Kanivara, you should come if you can. However, I summoned Moirean's spirit and she is now currently questioning her."
(Tells): You tell Satomi, "Or soul, rather."
Calmly, Kanivara says, "I got this far through the strength of my soul, which is far stronger than my body. Through the strength of my mind, which has kept me alive through tribulations uncountable. Through the strength of my heart, which knows no limits."
(Tells): You tell Satomi, "If you feel that she has pulled away from you, this is why, because I have summoned all of her, which is within the Tainted soul network, in order to assist me in this tainting."
Kanivara pauses, one ear flicking as she ponders things. "What the Keep stands to gain is a soul that will not break, a drive that will not end, and a heart that will not cease its functions. I am whatever I choose to be, and I choose to be a Carnifex of the Shadow Keep."
Satomi places her hands on her hips as she stands near the entrance, watching quietly.
You have emoted: The Azudim woman's cool expression turns with a sneer at Kanivara's words. "Strength of mind, strength of soul, strength of heart," she bites back with a snarl, "all things with no tangibility. Fine, I will grant you that these things have brought you here but I wonder now if the knights I left forgot the importance of strength of body." She turns back now to face Xenia and then Satomi. "Ser's," she commands with a sweeping hand towards Kanivara, "seeing as I can not do so myself, will you two test this knight's body?"
You have emoted: Until Moirean's address, Xenia's eyes remain locked on her, their only break coming to follow the ethereal Commander's gaze towards the entrance and Satomi. She nods at the Tainted knight a silent form of greeting. "As always, just in time Satomi," she says with light tone and a faint grin, "why don't you take the first crack?"
Satomi chuckles softly as a fond glimmer lights her eyes, her gaze on the manifested soul for but a moment before she focuses her gaze on Kanivara, "It is true. The things you say are important, Kanivara, but if you cannot survive physical toll of upholding the ideals of the Carnifex.." As she speaks, she walks closer to Kanivara before taking hers chin with her fingers and holding firm, "How can we rely on you when we fight side by side?" Her final words are met with the sudden stench of decay as the flesh of Kanivara's chin and neck burst into puffs of rainbow-colored dust, the sudden removal of skin revealing muscle beneath. As she pulls her hand away she casually takes a step back and, with a sudden kick, strikes Kanivara just above the knee leaving the bones unconnected.
Kanivara lets out a soft startled grunt as the skin of her neck and chin disappears, one hand reaching instinctively for her warhammer. The warhammer ends up being her support as her knee ends up dislocated, the pain drawing little more than a soft hiss from her. Settling her weight on her good leg, she stands at her full height, ignoring the blood cascading down her chest and saturating her clothes. "That all you've got?" she asks tauntingly, tucking her wounded leg behind her, preparing for another attack.
Satomi grasps Kanivara by the neck, casually supporting some of the weight as she closes her other hand into a fist and begins to slowly, methodically punch her in the face. Each blow coems with a harsh 'thud' with the cheekbone breaking after only a few strikes, though once it shatters she relents and shoves her backwards to fall. Taking a moment to examine her nails, she steps forward and focuses on her. A moment of silence is followed by the sound of metal being forcibly bent and warped, the armor being pushed in on by telekinetic force into a position that barely allows room for breathing with points and folds being in all the wrong places.
Kanivara reacts instinctively, trying to block Satomi's punches. Each one lands despite her efforts, though, and the sound of bone cracking echoes through the space before she falls to her back. A short, sharp squeak of pain escapes her before all sound is viciously clamped back. Her breathing quickens as a sort of battle fury builds, a mixture of shadowy tendrils and brilliant emerald essence beginning to twist around herself. The miasma vanishes as her armor begins to bend and warp around her and even into her, her body twisting with the twisting of the armor. Her natural flexibility becomes quite evident as the armor warps. Her breathing comes in short, sharp gasps, followed by a demented-sounding giggle. "Thufek makes you look weak, Tomi," she says teasingly, a hint of pain lacing her voice.
You have emoted: The ethereal Commander stands in a set silence, her eyes narrowed into an assessing glare. "She yet mocks you, Satomi," she asserts in neutral tone to Satomi, "break her." A step back and to the left, Xenia stands at attention, eyes set forward in a focus-less stare that pans the scene of the battered knight.
Satomi murmurs a soft, "And here I was being nice.." A light laugh echoes through the room as she straddles Kanivara's waist and, dropping down to her knees, takes hers head in her hands. She leans forward, wisps of green, noxious gas oozes from her mouth and she presses a firm kiss to hers lips, forcing the cloud to fill hers lungs and leave her choking for air. She climbs to her feet as, with a casual kick to the broken side of Kanivara's face, she tilts her head back and smiles blissfully. The ground begins to shift and rumble, the solid structure of the Keep reducing the majority of it, before a sudden shift causes a thick spike to burst from the ground and, piercing the weakened structure of hers armor, punches through hers guts and impales her to the ground. The ground ceasing to rumble, Satomi looks over her shoulder with a crazed excitement in her eye and asks, "Does it hurt, darling?"
Kanivara grunts and writhes as Satomi kisses her, trying to fight the other woman off her. The gas leaves her choking and coughing, a rough sound issuing forth from her, blood speckling her lips and trickling from the corner of her mouth as her lungs are corroded and her body starts to retch. The kick to her face draws another sharp squeak from her. A harsh, hacking laugh starts to escape her throat before it's cut short by the spike of ground impaling her through her guts. The glow of her eyes dies out briefly before resurging fiercely, glowing brighter than usual. "Heh heh heh," she rasps. "Nothing... you can throw at me, my dearest heart," she murmurs, taking a pause to breathe, her breath rattling in her chest, "compares to what I endured growing up. You.... you won't... break me." Blood pours from her midsection and neck, her skin going pale as she slowly but surely exsanguinates. "I showed... Thufek twice... I will -die- before I break."
You have emoted: Xenia springs suddenly forward, grabbing hold of Satomi's shoulder and using it for a thrust of momentum as she surges towards Kanivara, boot connecting with a sickening crack to Kanivara's jaw. "You just," she barrels down into Kanivara, driving a fist squarely into the knight's face, "never know," it rises and falls again with another pummel. "When to shut," it crashes in again, "the fuck," and again, "up."
Satomi gently caresses the tip of the spike as she watches Kanivara, still smiling, before murmuring a soft, "Don't die yet, love." She licks her lips before giving the spike a tap and, kissing it's bloody side, exhales into it. Her efforts begin to bear fruit as the spike begins to glow a dull red. It takes a few seconds, but the bloody wound begins to smoke and char as the growing heat burns the wounds mostly shut.
Kanivara finally lets out a full-on scream as you assaults her. When the scream dies, no further sound comes from her beyond the breaking of bones as her jaw, nose, and other cheekbone break. Her face bruised and bloodied, she can't speak even if she wants to. She writhes as the spike begins to heat and cauterize the wound around it. Within moments, though, the presence of her soul seems to grow smaller, more compact and distant. Her body goes limp and unresponsive.
Satomi raises an eyebrow as she glances at you, her foot idly caressing Kanivara's thigh, "I think we found her limit."
L Kanivara:
She is a powerful Idreth of Tsol'aa heritage and stands barely five feet tall. Her hip-length red hair is bound half-back in ornate braids. Her long ears extend six inches beyond the back of her head, and a pair of jagged, black-edged insectoid wings are on her back. Her emerald eyes are peculiar, sclera and pupil both a vivid shade of green, the iris barely delineated, a faint emerald glow illuminating them. Her face is delicately-formed, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Strikingly, a pattern of black swirls has been inked around her left eye. The tattoo arcs over her eyebrow and onto her forehead, covering half her forehead, and downward across her cheek where it ends parallel to the curve of her bow-shaped, red-painted lips. Any bare skin below her collarbone, save for her hands and feet, is inked in a spiralling, vine-like pattern of black, similar to the tattoo on her face. Wrapped around the shoulder and secured with a copper band is a paired shoulder cord showing colors of teal and crimson. She walks with the boon of Severn.
(covering to the knee) : a Carnifex's pleated woolen skirt
(defining the lips) : a silver moonstone piercing
(hanging from the shoulders) : shoulder cords in teal and crimson leather
(around one wrist) : a silver and moonstone bracelet
(dangling just beneath the throat) : silver moonstone warhammer and serpent necklace
(hanging open) : a Carnifex's side-buttoning black wool longcoat
(around the neck) : a small silver snowflake pendant
(around one wrist) : a bracelet of iridescent pearls
(worn on a finger) : a wrapping bird ring
(tied around her hips) : an ethereal spiderweb knitted lace shawl
(worn on a finger) : a delicate platinum ivy band
(tucked into her skirt) : a tight-fitting dark shirt
(wrapped around her waist several times) : a teal silk sash weaponbelt
(hanging from her weaponbelt) : a secure brass keyring
(polished neatly) : tall, thick-soled, gray military boots
(pinned through her braids) : an elegant silver-threaded mahogany hairpin
(plonked rakishly on her head) : a 'lucky' lure-hooked fishing hat
You have emoted: The smell of burning flesh curdles the air, the scent seeming to give Xenia pause there, hovering over Kanivara, fist raised and set for further assault. She glances over her shoulder towards the offensive odor, nose flaring in distaste before turning back to look over the fallen knight. With her free hand she reaches down, grabbing the collar of clothing and armor alike, to jerk Kanivara upwards for inspection. Her face hovers intimately close to Kanivara's, eyes darting this way and that over the bloodied and bruised features. She turns her head, ear but a hair’s breadth from Kanivara's nose and lips. "She breaths yet, Commander," she informs, eyes flickering towards the ethereal form of Moirean, "I stand at your command."
Kanivara breathes slowly and shallowly, her breathing slowing. Her eyes are devoid of their glow and barely show any sign of life.
You have emoted: "Leave her for me," Moirean hisses from behind Xenia as she steps forward to bend over Kanivara's slumped and broken form. "Did they break you," she coos gently over the knight as she raises a translucent hand to stroke gently over the knight's face. "Lay her down, Ser," she instructs of Xenia, who obliges as she carefully lowers Kanivara back to the ground. "Gently, now, gently," the ethereal Commander instructs in a sharp hiss, "do not deny me of my own test." There at Kanivara's side she kneels, her fingers gently stroking down Kanivara's face in a tender and nurturing fashion. "There there," she murmurs, leaning close to whisper at Kanivara's ear, "be strong."
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Where Moirean touches your cheek, a soothing trail of warmth begins to spread, arousing your inner consciousness. Bolstering it with what must be her very own.
Seeing the wound fully cauterized, Satomi hums a gentle melody as the spike slowly folds back into the floor of the Keep, leaving a hole in it's place where Kanivara's innards used to be.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Suddenly the sensation shifts, the soothing warmth growing to a burning that spreads all throughout your body. You can feel it, a poison that spreads through your soul, that burns and threatens the final threads of consciousness.
You have emoted: Moirean turns back up to regard Satomi and Xenia in a calm manner. "She awaits her final test," she says in a quiet tone to the two knights. "Drain her."
Kanivara continues to breathe slowly, though that breathing gets slower. Deep within her core, though, her soul has taken refuge in some sort of construct, a fortress of her own built to protect her soul and her own essential self. Within, the tsol'idreth fights against the poison infecting her, clinging to her existence. Her soul, fractured and scarred as it is from both life and obtaining her soulstone, doesn't give up. The poison drops her to a bare fragment of herself, but she keeps fighting.
Satomi exhales gently as her carapace begins to fall away, exposing the flesh beneath as it becomes a tightly controlled vortex of sand before her. Slowly, the sand coalesces into the form of a violet soulstone, pulsing gently. She turns her gaze to Kanivara as a line of violet shoots from her soulstone to hers chest, spreading tendrils throughout hers form as it hunts down the fragments of soul and begins to slowly drain them away into her soulstone.
You have emoted: "As you command," Xenia murmurs and reaching her hand forward, she sets a pulsing soulstone to hover just above her palm. From it violet tendrils stretch towards Kanivara's chest, drumming with a suctioning pulse that Kanivara's soul simply can not hide from.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Your consciousness slowly begins to recede, though try as you might to retain whatever shards of it remain, you simply are too weak. Images of your failures begin to plague your mind.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
I was not good enough for the Syssin, I failed there and here now, I have failed. I can not
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Your life force continues to drain, and with it, further thoughts and insecurities begin to plague your mind.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
My life, devoid of closeness and love despite the family I have so desperately attempted to form. I am alone, I lived alone. I will die alone.
Kanivara's soul slowly emerges from her body, whirling and writhing in fury. A brief flash of her as a five year old slave appears, the little tsol'aa screaming. A flash of her as a Syssin appears, worry and doubt in her expression. A flash of her at age twelve appears, sobbing and her flesh freshly-carved. Multiple times her image changes, her failures and every bit of pain she suffered becoming visible for brief moments.
Satomi gently caresses her soulstone with her fingertips as it continues to drain Kanivara, her gaze soft before she firms her expression and glances at you.
You have emoted: The haunting images of Kanivara's failures, moments of weakness and insecurities flash, one after the other, baring her soul entirely to you all. As the final image comes to light, Kanivara scorned and alone, Moirean speaks: "I see now, the struggles and constitution of this knight." Turning to Xenia and Satomi she nods, "Return this Knight's soul, bolstered and stronger than ever before."
You have emoted: The violet throbbing of Xenia's soulstone slows to a still, its hue shifting to the brighter, electric blue, its motions and waves changing direction to flow through Kanivara's chest.
Satomi rests her forehead gently against her soulstone as the flow reverses, flooding Kanivara's body with a steady stream of hers soul bolstered by her own.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
Pieces of you return, your mind and consciousness growing as your soul begins to take root. Though now there is the distinct presence of others: Xenia and her unwavering sense of duty. Satomi's cunning and shrewdness for knowledge.
Kanivara's soul returns to her body, which takes a soft breath once her soul is once more within. Her breathing remains shallow but becomes steady as her soul is bolstered by your and Satomi's, and her limbs remain still. A faint light appears within her eyes as her soul takes root once more.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
You sense the presence of others still as your soul returns joined now with the soul network of all Tainted knights to come before you. Moirean's ferocity in leadership, Akarn's methodical state of mind, Jura's strict adherence to laws and authority.
Kanivara blinks several times as she begins to come to, the light in her eyes brightening, a look of childlike wonder appearing on her face.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
The last of your soul finally takes anchor, bolstered now by the strengths of all Tainted knights past. A few you recognize, Grimdale, Yettave and Argolis, while countless others hover just in the backdrop, strengths unknown and undiscovered.
Satomi leaves her soulstone to continue it's work as she kneels beside Kanivara. Spreading her arms wide, she faces upward and grits her teeth. A miasma of deep violet mixed with black and jade swirls about her as she flares her essence to an intense blaze before bending over hers form and enveloping Kanivara and herself in the blaze. Swiftly, the wounds inflicted on her begin to mend and knit back together, joints popping back into place and flesh repairing. Small bits of Kanivara's plate remain embedded in flesh, though Satomi seems unconcerned with that for the moment as her essence's burn dies away leaving her more-or-less repaired to an.. acceptable degree.
You conjure up the illusion to Kanivara's mind:
I am not alone, and never shall I be. My service was not a failure nor was my time with the Syssin. I am strong. I am worthy. I am Tainted.
Kanivara breathes slowly and deeply as her body begins to knit, the hole in her torso knitting together visibly as her subconscious focuses on that. Her conscious mind focuses on the new sensations, the new thoughts and knowledge, and the senses she gathers from her Tainting. "I am Tainted," she whispers, her body knitting back together more fully with Satomi's aid.
You have emoted: "Rise now, Officer," Xenia's voice echoes out, the image of Moirean no longer and now returned once more to the network of Tainted souls, "and stand amongst us a Tainted Knight of the Carnifex."
Kanivara rises slowly, shaking a little as her nerves fire off with residual pain. She lifts herself to her feet, leaning on her warhammer, a grin on her lips.
-Everyone bails-
Xenia
5
Re: Mildly Irritating: Aetolia's Pet Peeves
I've been saying recently that while vote weight was a system that was, at the time, sorely needed, it's a concept that's much better on paper than it is in execution. It punishes people that only get x amount of time a week to play and otherwise incentivizes AFKing to maximize your vote weight. I'd much rather we revert back to everyone's vote being weighted at 1 and requiring a playtime of 3 to 5 hours maximum over 5 weeks to be able to vote at all. Alternatively, revert vote weight back to 1 for everyone and simply make it so that elections/referendums check your account for if a character has voted on it. If it has, it denies any other votes from characters on that account from being cast, and anyone using multiple registrations to bypass that would be severely punished.
It doesn't fully solve the problem of AFK, sure, and plenty will still do it, but it stops incentivizing it and punishing players with limited playtime.
It doesn't fully solve the problem of AFK, sure, and plenty will still do it, but it stops incentivizing it and punishing players with limited playtime.
Iazamat
5
Re: Mildly Irritating: Aetolia's Pet Peeves
major pet peeve: the amount of people that just AFK and not in their Havens. Timers are still ticking for them to give them voting, classlead and other things related to time played in the game.
Macavity
6