The Darklight Project — Roleplayer Guild

The Capitol - Hallways

Trying to teach Calypso anything was a very hit or miss affair. Sometimes the woman learned quite quickly, but that was usually with practical, physical things, tasks that involved movements of some sort, and often repetitive in some way. Concepts, on the other hand, had a much harder time sticking in her brain it seemed, and it was often easier to tell her to do something, and refrain from telling her why. When it came to the matter of Silvae's Celebration, however, Calypso seemed quite interested and more importantly had a rare moment of clarity; for once, the King had very little trouble trying to get her to understand something that didn't involve practice or combat.

Unfortunately such a pleasant conversation would be interrupted sooner rather than later. Even as they continued around the curve of the castle, discussing where Calypso could acquire more ribbons (something she seemed very interested in), her eyes fluttered in a few distracted blinks; just a moment later and a servant was stopping in front of them, bowing and having to catch his breath after having run the entire way there. Cyril had to hear only a few words before pushing past and then running to the main entrance, leaving the still recovering servant with a somewhat confused Calypso behind.

Both Alasa and Sampson were there, and despite the fact both were obviously uninjured he already knew that something was very, very wrong. As the King came to a stop he was already asking, "What happened-?!"

"It's Yihira, King Serio. Yihira's gone."

"How?!"

"We don't know, we were there long after it happened, and... it was terrible, Cyril. I haven't seen anything like it since..."

For a moment Cyril was silent, tensed up as his mind raced. Even though he would have said he couldn't believe something like this would happen, he had already seen the death of multiple rulers in his lifetime, and it almost felt like he should have expected another one so soon. But it was Yihira who was gone, someone who was so bright, who was so compassionate, one of the first to be ready to help Barcea...

"Can you still ride?"

"Of course." Even though he was clearly very tired, Alasa's reaction came immediately, and even Sampson quickly straightened from where he was using the wall as support, forcing his breath to even out even as his lungs probably screamed at him.

"Take men, and a cart. Go get her, bring her back here. Make sure everything's covered so it doesn't raise a panic. I'll go tell Kisarin now."

"Now? Are you sure you want to do that alone-?"

"Kisarin might be big, but he's no rampaging maniac. He'll take it out on something that can't feel it. Go, otherwise you'll lose the light."

The Capitol - Spare Room

With another roar Kisarin's arm lashed out, forearm collided with pillar; the latter broke, the third victim of the day. The first had been immediately after hearing the news from Cyril, the second in the terrible wait that followed, and the third from finally seeing his sister's body laid out, the best attempt possible having been made to keep both halves together. Nearby, pieces of what was left of the guards had attempted to be placed with the correct body; Cyril was not jealous of whoever had done that work at all.

The cart that had been taken had returned with its grim burden, covered so that the gore beneath wouldn't clash against the red of the ribbons all around. The general population had no idea what was being carried along by horses and led by the two Sentinels in the front, all the way to the castle. More guards had been waiting for them, and quickly the cart and its contents were moved inside, organized, and finally both the King of Barcea and a Chieftain of Gurata entered.

While Kisarin had reacted in anger, Cyril had quietly crossed both arms, allowing the (decidedly more massive) man to vent his rage simply as he inspected the corpses. Alasa stood even closer, crouching in the midst of them, and it was to him Cyril addressed his question.

"Don't know exactly. The tracks around the site made no sense. There was no combat, no galloping, nothing like that. And there were no extra tracks as well, horse or human. It was like they were attacked from a range, but look at them. This wasn't the work of any arrow, or something thrown; there weren't any marks like that either."

"Some sort of spirit, or a flying monster, or-?"

"Could be, but... I know we're both thinking the same thing. It's way too convenient. And I'm no monster hunter, but I didn't see any signs pointing to that anyway. And there's no sign of..." Slowly, Alasa looked to Kisarin before continuing, a little quieter, "Consumption, or anything like that. Not even from scavengers, which is... odd."

"So... Certainly foul play."

"Oh, there's no doubt." Kisarin almost snarled this, even as he stalked his way over. "No beast would get the better of Yihira short of some breed of dragon. And I don't see any fucking burn marks, do you?"

There was no need to answer Kisarin, and so neither the King nor Sentinel did. Instead, they all simply looked down for a while, before the King slowly looked back up to Kisarin. "Would you like us to leave for now?"

"Later, King. When you're done with your investigation."

Alasa was moving even before Cyril waved his hand slightly, the King saying, "There's nothing more we can find here for the time being. We'll leave you be." Outside the two went, and once the door was shut they stood a few steps away, the King crossing his arms once again, thinking deeply while Alasa fiddled with his own glove; he quickly listened up when Cyril spoke once again. "We need to begin investigating, any way we can. Figure out who did this if we can. Bandits, dissenters, a revenge attack from those who favored Gartian... Or Kori? We can't just let this slide."

"Of course not. How do you want us to go about this?"

"You, Sampson, Gortul, all of you head out, scout the villages, forest, fields, and interrogate any ruffian you can find. Diane will stay here, figure out what else she can from the corpses. Vesta, Christopher, Calypso, Stark, Alice, Dalious, I want them all here in the Capitol, working the ground. Drosil can either help Diane, or Shadar can help them, whichever one is present. And then we need to send a messenger to H'kela, see what they know on the matter. Inform us if there are any particularly aggressive factions or cults from the old regime. That'll take two days, so I want you all back here on that second day, in case news is brought; we'll regroup anyway."

The Capitol - A Day of Searching

Quickly, the orders were sent out, and the feeling of cheer brought on by the season became immediately muffled among those close to the King in any degree. With their tasks assigned, out the Sentinels and their allies went, trying to find any sort of sign or hint to bring back home to the castle. It was like chasing smoke, and there was nothing to be found. Even the Sentinels who went out into the field, chasing down bandit groups and, more often than not, aggressively forcing their way into the camps unlike they had ever done before, demanding information. The criminals knew nothing.

It was like that in even the more civilized areas as well, in the towns and the Capitol itself; in fact, it was probably more difficult. To keep a panic from spreading everywhere, their questions had to be pointed precisely, picking only at the details, and even then it could only be directed towards those who might know something, without spreading the information erroneously as well.

It was difficult work, and arguably a waste of time, and the King knew that; however, for the moment, it was the only thing that they could do for the time being, while they waited for the messenger who was sent to H'kela to return...

H'kela - A Message to the Palace

The sun bore down, wind whipped through the streets and halls of the palace. The smells of old war and rebuilding could still be scented on the dry air. The evening sky was the glorious blue and streaked white that only comes in the H'kelian sky. Nasir stood with one of his soldiers at his side on the balcony that stood just off the main hall. His mind was quiet, still in a near meditative state from the quiet of the past months. The old soldier knew it would not last. It never did. Every storm was just the precursor to another, the time in between only there to make the foolish think all storms had passed. 

"Protector Nasir." a voice from behind the veteran said before the sound of a sharp salute came to his ears. 

Nasir turned with practiced parade precision and thumped his partisan's butt on the hard stone floor by his feet, the sound echoing off the walls and out into the open air. "Report." the gruff voice of Nasir replied.

"A messenger arrives from Barcea, urgent news." 

Nasir had no words for the soldier, he only nodded and the man led him to this messenger. The two walked through the halls with the surety and speed of men who knew those passages like they were born in them. Servants dared not look up from their duties at the two. No, they dared not look at Nasir. he had scolded many servants for gawking, either at him or any dignitaries that they had received. He enforced their place as servants and reminded them that service and perfection of task was the best way to live their lives. Many resented his hard stance, but, none would speak out against him. His reputation and current standing made him beyond reproach from nearly everyone but the Queen herself. 

Soon enough they reached the messenger. Nasir's natural glower deepened at him. He knew he was going to be some soft green-lander, but, knowing never made it easier to see them. The messenger was flanked by two powerful young guards that Nasir had personally selected to be the door guards of the palace. He looked nervous and out of breath. The Commander of the Queensguard eyed the man with his aged and dark stare, taking in his measure. "Well?" His word leaving with a thick accent, even evident in the short question. He hated using their language. It was brash and have no music to it. 

The messenger seemed to be taken a back at the chilly reception from the Commander, "Ummm, my message is for the Queen, sir. I am not to deliver it to anyone else."

Nasir ground his teeth slightly, "Give to me the direct meaning of this message, then we shall be seeing the Queen." he looked over to the large soldier that stood to the messenger's right, "Or, I will have my man beat you to death and we will have the message now."

The messenger blinked, astonished not only at the seemingly unnecessary threat but also the seriousness and nonchalance that it was delivered. He quickly thought that it would be best to just give this man what he wanted and escape with his bones all in the right places, "Yes, the message concerns the death of Lady Yihira. We are requesting-" 

"Enough." Nasir waved his hand in dismissal. Now he knew this man had something serious to deliver, not just petty Barcean nonsense. "Speak not of such things in open air. Do they not teach you where you come from?" he scolded. He was not angry the man had complied, just disappointed at his lack of tact.

The messenger shut his mouth, realizing there was no way he was getting out of this without offending this man. The Commander held out his hand toward the man, expectantly. With a sigh of relief the messenger dug into his belt bag and produced a sealed scroll case. He placed it in the Commander's hand and nodded. Nasir nodded to the man and withdrew his hand holding the smooth cylindrical object. Nasir's eyes moved back to the large guard, "Take him to the sitting room. Keep him there in case he is needed for later." his words returning to his mother tongue. Without waiting for confirmation about his orders, he turned and began to stride back into the palace. Scroll in hand and mind set on one thing. Finding the Queen. Whatever was happening in Bracea it would soon concern her if it did not already. Things like this had a way of rippling outward. He made a note in his mind to increase patrol lengths as well, if there were assassins he would need to be ready. 

The Commander strode up to the Queen, heedless of what she was doing. Other things could wait. Matters of state always came first. Besides, he had her schedule for the day committed to memory and knew whatever he might be interrupting was of little real importance. He Stopped before her and bowed deeply, resting his partisan on his shoulder, in perfect form. Without looking up he extended his left hand holding the scroll case toward Revali. "A message from Bracea. It seems to be of great importance, Your Majesty." 

Nasir didn't have far to go, or any real difficulty in finding the Queen whatsoever; while she was set in her habits and often disinterested in politics in general, for her credit she at least made the effort to make herself somewhat available unlike before, and to do what she could in clear view. Thanks to her interests the only thing she could really do outside of closed rooms was simply studying for her next goal, so when Nasir entered the throne room he would see how she was sitting on the throne, one of her massive tomes sitting across her lap.

At first, she didn't even respond to what Nasir had to say; she was much too focused on what was in front of her. However, she seemed to at least be listening, considering how she ended up reaching forward without looking up, taking the case with her fingertips. Still reading, she opened the case and spread out the scroll over her book, seamlessly going from a complicated set of instructions involving some sort of dark ritual to what was happening a nation away. It took only a moment.

"Chieftain Yihira was assassinated in Barcean lands, on the way to join King Serio and her brother for the ongoing celebration there. Of course, that's a nightmare on its own level." She spoke quite dryly, not even the slightest hint of inflection in anything she said. Holding the scroll out, she whispered a word and immediately a change came over the paper: first more wrinkles appeared, and then it began to rapidly yellow and darken before simply crumpling away. Both hands then shut the book, holding it as she stood.

"The scene of the murder contained no evidence of who or what did it; no tracks of any sort, nothing discarded, and it seems while what killed the Chieftain had been a relatively smooth blow, the other two had been absolutely butchered." She stepped down, walking past Nasir, purpose in her step even if her voice sounded utterly disinterested. The heavier fabric she wore over the thinner material hissed gently with each step. "They're wondering if, possibly, and group here may have been the cause, but aren't accusing us; how kind of them. However, I don't think we can help them when it comes to that; anyone who isn't happy here is too busy figuring out how to kill me, rather than anyone else from Gurata."

About halfway down the throne room she stopped, thinking herself for just a moment. As she did so, she ran her fingers along the pages of her tome, playing with them slightly without opening it. Her eyes closed for one second, and then two, before she looked over her shoulder towards the Commander. "It seems that there's someone out there who is wanting to cause a little chaos, killing Guratan power players in Barcean lands. Would I be wrong in assuming that, if left alone, it would only be a matter of time before something similar happened here? Perhaps I should move in advance to keep anything like that from happening, then. What do you think, Commander?"

Nasir fell in behind the Queen as she walked the throne room. A step behind and to her right, his place. He made as little noise as possible as they walked, making sure not to disturb her thought process or interrupt her. Nasir admired the Queens disconnected disposition. He had known plenty of leaders that reacted with passion and emotions, most were now dead. The Queen's mind was sharp, even if she did set it to research and rituals instead of placing serious state-craft in place. She was not bad at being a ruler, far from it, just, Nasir was not entirely comfortable around a scholar Queen. He had spent plenty of time with his face buried in books when he was in training. The time for training had passed, now was the time of implementation. 

The Commander stopped when his Queen did, waiting for her to address him. She of course did. "Your instincts are sharp as ever, Your Majesty. This attack was obviously meant as a message of terror. Fear is an effective weapon when aimed at the upper crust of society, nobles in the greenlands scare easy. If we allow this to go unchecked the assassins will soon be at our own doorstep, just as you have implied." Nasir frowned and stroked his well-groomed graying bread with his left hand, thinking. "Taking an aggressive stance against this foe would be best. Time is their ally, not our's, we should take that time from them." he rested his hand on his chin and moved his gaze to meet that of the Revali as she looked at him over her shoulder, "You will not be safe though, Your Majesty. If you take any personal action you will be exposed to more threats. One cannot strike a foe without exposing his own hand for counter-stroke. I counsel caution in your actions, Your Majesty." His grip tightened on the haft of his weapon slightly, anticipation. These events were something more than bandits playing at assassins. The months of peace would likely be coming to a swift end very soon. "You will need my best men around you at all times, and myself to guide them, Your Majesty. Placing Your Majesty at risk for the opportunity to nip this in the bud is worthwhile, but, we cannot allow any harm to come to you. Another lost ruler for our H'kela would be devastating." he hardly needed to remind the Queen of that. Nasir she knew it well, but, if he did not voice his concerns then he would be entirely at fault if they were overlooked.  

"Noted, Commander." For a moment the Queen was silent once again as she looked back forward, but she didn't continue to walk. The two stood like that for a while, one of Revali's fingers very lightly tapping the bound cover of her book, as her eyes once again shut before opening once again; she started to walk, and spoke again without looking back. "Prepare what we need to go to Barcea, then. I cannot do anything from here besides send my regrets, and those would be worth less than the paper they'd be written on. Better to actually do something instead, and I doubt there is anyone in Barcea able to provide the skills I can... or have the ability to do."

The doors were swung open by waiting guards by the time the two of them reached that point, and out in the hallway Revali took one step towards the left, which led to her room; despite the fact she was now Queen, she had chosen to remain in the same small room that she had lived in for many years, as the forgotten illegitimate child that she was. Before heading any farther, she once more looked to Nasir to say, "I need to gather a few basic supplies, and some tomes. You have thirty minutes to prepare what's needed, and then we leave."

And, with that, the Queen once more continued on her way, opening the massive book even as she walked.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Nasir bowed as the Queen moved away and toward her meager rooms. He watched her go with a deep frown on his face. His displeasure had nothing to do with the trip they would soon be embarking on. No, that would go quickly and be safe enough. The old Commander was annoyed at his queen's insistence on staying in the closet that she had lived in when she was a girl. He remembered her when she was just some half-blood girl running about in the halls. He had been younger then too, just a guard, a skilled one but not yet in his position. Her room had been fitting for her situation back then, now, they were shameful. He would need to start talking to her more seriously. It had been months and she still slept in a room barely fit for a servant. She walked about with her nose in books and neglected her poise and position. He was unsure how that conversation would go. He was not her father nor was he in a real position to instruct her. Perhaps he could frame it as a matter of security, their people were not known to tolerate weakness and her living in a small room and always reading could be seen as just that. Nasir put the thought from his mind for now. Later. Now he needed to get to work. He only had thirty minutes after all. 

A deep breath filled his lungs as he turned and then was expelled in a deep booming shout as he began to walk and bellow orders. Everyone in ear shot fell in line and began the preparations that he ordered. There was no room for dally or disobedience when it came to The Commander. Bodies rushed to get together the list of guards he was bellowing out as other servants rushed to get horses and supplies ready. The whole palace flew into a state of busied excitement, a hive of bees stirred to motion in an instant. 

As the slotted time came to a close, Nasir, stood facing the group of fifty men he had selected, with another fifty servants and all of their needed equipment. It would not befit the Queen to travel any lighter. Her needs would need to be seen to, and, his men's needs would also need to be attended. The poor Barceans would just have to find the room for them. They were good at hosting guests, little more. He had reports that the horses needed were already set and saddled. He would expect nothing less. His hard eyes scanned the men before him, all in armor and holding their spears. Each of them were veterans, friends, brothers. All had at least some magical talent. He had a sinking feeling that they would be needing these men for more than just spooking bandits. Nasir heard the door behind him open, it could only be one person, their Queen. He pounded the butt of his spear on the hard stone floor letting a thunderous crack ring out, all of the soldiers fell into parade posture instantly. Ready for inspection. 

Precisely thirty minutes after the order was given, the Queen of H'kela arrived. She had placed on something slightly heavier to cloak her body from the sun, and even had a veil pulled across her face and over her head as well, in two separate pieces. She had barely given a glance down the line before pulling herself up onto her horse. With her, she carried a heavy bag at her side and a book under an arm, and yet she refused to part with either.

"Let us be off."

The Capitol - The Queen's Arrival

The sudden arrival of a royal H'kelan retinue was quite unexpected by the general public of Barcea, and the first reaction was one of trepidation. After all, two months ago the sudden war had come to an end, and with it had been the death of royalty on both sides. There had been years of animosity before that, so as much as the King tried to push that the time for change had come it was still difficult to ignore all of the history...

But Revali had the advantage of the holiday working for her, and had planned for such. Immediately upon her arrival, those in her train began to throw out gifts, of all kinds so long as it wouldn't shatter; money, food and treats, flowers, anything like that was passed out. The main color, of course, was Silvae's red, but with that came H'kelan gold. It was in this way that the Queen kept the Barceans pacified, all the way to the waiting Barcean shoulders at the gate to the inner wall.

With the inner wall came peace, and no more handing out of gifts. Anything extra was put away, and soon the group was arriving at the castle itself. The King himself was waiting, with those Sentinels that had returned, and he remained in front of the open doors as Revali approached.

"Welcome, Queen Revali. I greatly appreciate your response to our plea for assistance, but I wasn't expecting to see you yourself."

"There is nothing I can do from a country away. Show me the remains."

The King only gave a nod, and from there immediately led the Queen into the castle, with some of her guard following while the others began to prepare for the short stay that they would be having. When they arrived, the King wasted no time before leading her in; of anyone, Revali probably needed the least amount of warning. For a few moments, the Queen of H'kela was completely silent. She stood in the midst of the gore, crouched down into it, and even placed her hands within it, showing no concern for her own attire or appearance. Though she was focused on the bits and pieces of what had been the guards to begin with, she soon turned to focus on Yihira, shoving her hands along the severed intestines, often pulling them out to check for some perceived damage-

"I do not have all of the supplies I need with me, as I was not anticipating something this devastating. Even now, I can feel there is no point in attempting to bring a soul back for interrogation; the bonds with the bodies have been completely severed unnaturally. The best I can do is recreate the scene, and that will be merely with the Chieftain herself. The others are too gone physically to be of any use."

"Recreate the scene?" Cyril's confusion was quite clear, and with it there was a hint of revulsion, as if he knew what was coming next would be wrong on some level. "What do you mean...?"

"We'll be able to see how the Chieftain died, how her final moments were spent to some degree. It will be just her, but perhaps some detail will make itself known."

Revali spoke callously, and briefly Cyril glanced to Kisarin before answering; the nod that was given in return made him feel like he could actually speak. "Very well then. What are you going to need?"

"Poisonous mushrooms of any kind, frog eyes, dog marrow, thumbs, pig intestine-"

"Wait, thumbs?"

"Preferably of criminals."

"That's horri-"

"Then that of some form of ape, but don't blame me for incorrect results."

"Dammit- hold on a minute please, Revali, let me get someone to send... Sampson!"

The Capitol - A Matter of Ingredients

The already messy hair of the Sentinels' resident glutton was even more haphazard than it usually was, thanks to his incessant rubbing. He was nervous, and for a few good reasons. After all, he hadn't been expected to be called upon to gather supplies for the Queen of H'kela, and hadn't had paper ready until about halfway through her list; there were almost thirty things that she wanted. He wasn't sure he had written everything down properly, but even that didn't matter; he had been so rushed that most of it had become illegible, even before he had to stuff it into his pocket.

"Not good, not good..."

All he really knew is that he needed to find some form of alchemy shop, or anything of the like to begin with. Then, from there... Well, he could pick a Divine and pray, at the least.

The front of Godfrey's shop had been converted to a partial infirmary after the wounded had trickled back home. Those that had infections, sicknesses, or wounds that magic would not fix fully were split into the places in the city that had the capability to care for them in their convalescence, and his Alchemy Square was no exception. A bit of a reputation with the locals for having affordable and effective medicines and health supplements may have helped in bringing him to the attention of the Guard, who'd half-requested, half-requisitioned his space.

Honestly, he didn't mind very much. Business on the front end had been slightly slow of late, and he welcomed the government-sponsored clientele. He busied himself with the rows of bottles and jars on the shelf behind his counter, taking a close inventory of his stocks. He'd need to get more supplies for his work soon, probably. 

"How're you feeling today, Cliff?" he casually called over his shoulder to the man who sat on a makeshift cot near his door.

"Right well, an' there's no doubt there, son!" replied the man with a hearty belly laugh. "Another day or so an' a bit more o' tha' salve an' I'll be out o' your hair, sure."

Godfrey grinned. He liked Cliff. He'd be a bit sorry to see him go, but then, he was one of the last few patients left in his shop. The silence and privacy would be nice to have again. It was surprisingly difficult to carry on his... other business when people were staying in the front of his shop. He set to mixing another batch of antiseptic.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and a rather frantic-looking man trundled in, followed by the lady that always bought flower supplements from his shop. The man was out of breath, but the lady smiled warmly. "Godfrey! Good day to you! This man says he needs an alchemist, and I told him I'd show him the best one in town," she said.

Godfrey bowed slightly, and winked. "Surely you're in the wrong shop, then," he said, and they both chuckled a bit. "My name is Godfrey. I'm an alchemist, yes. What can I do for you?"

Sampson hadn't really been ready for the sudden change of scene. He hadn't even really spoken to the flower lady, had just been mumbling nervously to himself, and then the next thing he knew he had found himself being pushed along. When the shop came into sight, he briefly recognized it; after all, the Guard was regularly using it, so he had heard of it many times, and had it pointed out to him once or twice as well. What he didn't quite understand how alchemy would come into play here, but Sampson was no expert on medicine and its related arts. He was well aware of that fact, at least.

Once more, Sampson's hand tussled his own hair, before he spoke. "Sorry to bother you, truly. I have quite a large list, and..." He didn't know whether it was a good idea to mention Revali or not yet, so he chose to err on the side of caution and continued with, "a mage needs them, quite quickly. However, I didn't recognize all the ingredients, and I was rushed and... I apologize..."

He held the list forwards then, with both hands. With half of it smudged or illegible and most of the other half most likely misspelled thanks to the complicated nature of the ingredients, calling it a mess would be being nice to Sampson.

"Do you possibly recognize... anything at all, and can provide it?"

There was something almost comical about the way the man half-mumbled his request. Godfrey kept his chuckle behind locked doors, though, and took the list from his hands. A mage, huh? Must be one of the healers. Let's take a look... he thought.

"Surely," he began, and looked over the list for a moment. "...saltpeter, that's potassium nitrate-- I have some here. Poisonous mushrooms? I might have some amanita bisporigera samples, but those are really dangerous. Wonder why they would-- oh, oil of vitriol, this must be for getting rid of some kind of septic infection. This list is pretty varied," he said, looking back up to the man. "I have a lot of this stuff, but there's a bunch of really esoteric materials on this list. I don't know if I am comfortable just handing it over to you, if you'll pardon my forwardness. It's simply that many of these items are poisonous or noxious, and if they were to be lost or something, might cause trouble. And, as you can see," he said, and gestured toward Cliff, "my shop is nearly free of trouble now."

As he talked, he began gathering bottles, jars, and little parcels from the shelves behind the counter. For some of the more... interesting ingredients, however, he'd have to duck into the back and gather them from his other work's supplies. Not that he had any other work, of course-- he was just a chemist. Of course.

"I can get you a lot of what's on this list, certainly, and I would be happy to accompany you to wherever it is that you would deign to take them. After all, there would be the matter of payment for these materials, as well..."

He didn't have any thumbs.

Patiently Sampson waited, just watching as the other man moved back and forth, beginning to gather supplies. It seemed like the Sentinel had stumbled upon a miracle worker, and for the first time in the past thirty minutes Sampson felt like he could relax a little. Somehow the alchemist was discerning what he meant from those misspelled names and smudges.

He wasn't really listening as the man spoke to himself about the different ingredients, but when pay came up he immediately straightened slightly. "Oh, of course. I have this-" Down he reached, carefully pulling out a decently large pouch full of coins, which he set on the counter. "We weren't sure what the full price would be, considering the nature of some of the materials, so C- the King sent this an advance. You'd receive the rest once we knew how much it all would be; since you'll be coming along, you can tell him yourself."

Quickly he looked down to what was gathered, before he looked back up. "How much do you think you're going to have to bring? Because if possible I'd like to get this in one trip, so if there's anything I can carry..."

The sizable ka-chunk of the bag of coins on the counter set him at ease. He stuck it in a little lockbox behind the counter. "I've got a little cart outside we can use. Minus the stuff I can't figure out what it is, we should be able to get it all in one go if you help with this," he said, arranging the items into bags and baskets. "...cordyceps? Really?... Anyway, I should be ready in a few minutes. Just gotta lock up the back."

While the rest of the shop was rather sparsely furnished with basic furniture and the like, the door into the back of the shop was a sturdier one by far, heavier and shod with iron around the outside. There were three locks on the door, each with a different key. Godfrey nonchalantly fished the keys out of different pockets, locked them up tightly, and sighed. "Cliff, if you need any more of the salve, I'll leave it here on the counter. Don't use too much or you'll hallucinate, though," he added. 

It wasn't often that he closed up shop during the day, but if the king and his dumb magicians wanted him, then it was wiser probably to not refuse. Plus, having gotten outside, he could finally see what the neighborhood kids had been doing to his shop front all morning-- red ribbons and flowers were strewn across his doorway in a way that only urchins could have done. He shook his head a bit, and sighed.

"Lead the way, Mister Sentinel." Laden with a basket, a bag, and a cartful of bottles, jars, and boxes of varying sizes and shapes, he fancied that they looked like what the old snake-oil salesmen of yore would look like as they travelled township to township. Likely, those salesmen would not have nearly half as many volatile substances and putrid ingredients with them, but hey. Looks are looks.

"Yes, of course." Quickly, Sampson turned to begin his walk, taking the lead considering that the alchemist, chemist, or whatever he happened to be was entirely insistent on keeping a hold of the supplies. Their journey to the castle was slowed a little more than it usually would have been thanks to the excessive activity considering the holiday, but in contrast passing through the gates into the inner circle involved nothing more than a slight wave from Sampson.

From there it was a clean shot to the castle, nothing in their way, and once they arrived there was a brief struggle to actually get the cart into the hallways, before they gave up and used a servant's entrance instead, which had considerably less stairs. It made getting around to their eventual destination a little bit longer, and Sampson almost ran to knock on the door when it came into sight.

The King was the one who answered, keeping it pulled to as much as he could as he left, so that a glance inside wouldn't slip by. "Sampson is this who you found?"

"Yes Cyril, this is... er... uh..."

The trip was kept relatively quiet-- Godfrey wasn't one for small talk when the matter at hand seemed at least somewhat urgent. Still, the trip was almost uncomfortably silent. Had he been given more time, he'd have been able to portion out the ingredients into smaller packages to make the trip easier, but with the amount of hurry that had been implied, his basket was full of large, wide-mouthed jars and bottles instead, sloshing with liquids and slimes and powders.

He'd never been inside the castle before-- Not that he'd never had an opportunity, but just that he'd never really been interested. Chemists needn't often attend to royalty, and assassins were less likely to be caught if they stayed away from royal grounds. Still, the place was interesting. They finally came up to a great door, and the Sentinel's knock was answered by--

The king? And this Sentinel addressed him by name rather than by a title? Something was seriously fishy here. Nevertheless, Godfrey stood up straighter and adjusted his collar-- just in case the new gentleman was, in fact, the real king.

"Godfrey Hildebrand, local alchemist and apothecary, and erstwhile infirmary attendant, at your service, your Highness," he said, with a bow and slight flourish. Had he known he'd be meeting the king himself, he'd have changed to better clothes than his plain white button-up shirt and brown work apron.

The thought flashed across his mind that if this was, in fact, a trick, and they were going to use these materials for some ill intent, he'd be part-and-parcel of that attempt. He eyed the bottle of oil of vitriol on top of the basket. If it came to it, he could break that bottle and hope that it would destroy at least the items in that basket.

"I wish we were meeting on better circumstances, Mr. Hildebrand." Cyril said this after having given a nod, his hand coming up to his chest in the typical Sentinel salute; it mattered not that he was King, as he would always commit to that action time and time again. His face was indeed grim, tired, clearly at odds with what was going on. "I don't know of any better way than to tell your how your wares will be used than to tell you the truth; the Queen of H'kela request them, so that she can assist us. Chieftain Yihira was murdered within our borders, and we have no idea who did it or why."

Slowly, he looked back to the door, before back to Godfrey once again. "Since you're working with medicine, you've probably seen plenty of wounds in your time, but... I don't think you'll have seen anything like this, ever. It's... awful, in a word. So I need you to be prepared before we come in, because the Queen is going to be needing those ingredients quickly. And not of word of this leaves the castle; the people don't know yet, and if word gets out then everything will go sideways, and we'll have less of a chance of figuring out who did it in the panic. Do you understand?"

A moment's hesitation passed before Godfrey nodded. "As you say, your highness," he affirmed. He was nothing if not a secret-keeper.

The thought of trickery left his head for the time, replaced with frantic historical and political searches for the significance and places in hierarchy of the names he'd been told. This was bad news, and no denying it.

"I will assist with whatever skill I have, your highness," he said, and hefted his bag and basket. "If it is as urgent as your highness says, then we should waste no time, if you please."

Some of the more... creative poisons he'd synthesized left particularly disgusting and horrific remains, but he steeled himself anyway for the scene he was about to witness.

The King nodded, and with that turned and opened the door. There was no real way to get the cart into the room, so having it outside would have to be close enough. However, there really wasn't a moment to think about that beyond the first, as the smell of what was within washed over with the opening of the door. There was, of course, the smell of the dried gore within; there was no real smell of rot yet, undoubtedly due to something the Queen of H'kela had done...

But there was the smell of what the Queen was preparing, and at that point it was worse than the gore. A table had been moved in, placed against one of the walls, and it was there Revali stood. Keeping to one side, the woman had carefully organized and placed various pouches and cases, all sorts of strange and unpleasant ingredients kept either loosely within or, in the cases of the more dangerous ones, inside various vials. What could only have been described as an apparatus had been set up as well, tubes and orbs of glass running from one to the other, with a cauldron as well.

When the door opened, the Queen simply directed to the side, at the much larger and emptier part of the table. "There."

Godfrey's vision washed over the collection of ingredients she'd put together. Fulminating gold, caustic volatile alkali, king's yellow, white arsenic...? Instinctively, he drew a folded-up canvas mask and a pair of copper-rimmed goggles from a pocket on his apron, and put them both on before beginning to unload the materials he'd brought along with him onto the table.

"My lady," he said, bowing to the Queen as his arms were full of bottles. "I think the list I got was... incomplete, but I've brought with me all the things that I could glean from it, as per your request. Godfrey Hildebrand, at your service," he said. "In the company of such an accomplished fulminist as yourself, my lady, my skills pale in comparison." 

Except you bother around with magic, he briefly thought.

King Cyril was right-- the scene presented was definitely gruesome. Godfrey tried not to look at it, and the spices packed into the mask helped with the smell, but even so... What on earth happened? Whatever it was, he hoped that it would be cleaned up and taken care of sooner than later. His eyes kept drifting back to the collection of glassware and ironware that had been set up.

Do not judge the methods of others until you see their results, he reminded himself. Magus though she may be, her aim is likely different from your own in this sort of proceeding. Let her have her symbolism and trinketry-- it likely serves her purposes well. He attentively waited to be instructed.

The Queen didn't even glance to Godfrey as he introduced himself, taking no note of his appearance or how he bowed. However, she seemed to tune into the sound of bottles lightly coming together, and once more she directed to the side, this time pointing more insistently at the table. "Set them down, preferably in the order they were given in the list, and be careful not to have any sort of accident."

With the new ingredients, the work of the Queen seemed to double in intensity. Rapidly she introduced liquids to the tubes and orbs, and ingredients of the more solid kind she rapidly ground into various dusts and pastes with mortar and pestle. She worked like a person possessed, single-minded in her efforts, and despite the danger and toxicity of many of the ingredients she was working with she handled them like one might handle simple spices and mundane herbs.

Eventually, her work came to a sudden stop as her hand went out again and again to pick up various bottles. It was as if she was searching for something, but she never directly looked at them, at most using only the corner of her eye.

"There are no thumbs here."

Godfrey did not manage to stifle his audible snerk. "With apologies, my lady, it's not a real alchemical reagent and so I did not have any thumbs in my alchemy shop. I assumed it was a mistake in the list," he said, doing his best not to show his amusement. "Surely carbon, potassium, iron, and calcium in their proper proportions can approximate a thumb?"

He hazarded a glance back at Sampson, just to see what kind of face he should be making. The Queen sounded deadly serious when she said it, but he just could not bring himself to really take "thumbs" seriously.

He took a half-second to compose himself before bowing again to her. "I apologize for the lack, my lady."

Sampson, when Godfrey looked back, was utterly pale.

The Queen, meanwhile, didn't verbally respond to the man. There was no need to, as the slow look she gave him said it all. It was not one of hatred or contempt, because there was too much energy implied behind such descriptions. No, Revali's expression could have only been described as... utterly disinterested.

It was with that same expression that she brought both of her hands up and, with a sudden movement, drove one finger down into her own thumb, gouging into the nail bed without so much as flinching. In the same movement she scooped outwards, sending both nail and flesh into the viscous brew within.

"Dear Divines, Revali, stop-!" The King was much too late, as Revali switched hands to do the same to her other thumbnail. Still he approached even as it fell, but as his hand went forwards hers shot out, striking him in the chest to give a sudden shove backwards. She then held both hands over the mix, allowing herself to bleed freely down into it before beginning the process of thoroughly mixing, even as the last of the various substances in the tubes dribbled down into the cauldron.

"Knew I should have brought more ingredients myself..."

Well, excuuuuse me, princess, he thought, but grabbed the bottle of antiseptic from his apron for when she was finished. The least you could do is acknowledge that you couldn't do your dumb hoodoo without the science you're using, and a large portion of which I brought to you.

He'd seen other strange and ultimately pointless ritualistic things done by magicians before, but this one still managed to turn his stomach just a little. He turned his attention to the device and the chemicals inside, identifying them as best he could by sight alone and how they reacted with other things, to begin understanding the process she was using.

The antiseptic, like its carrier, was utterly ignored. Instead she snuffed out the flame beneath the cauldron with a simple wave, before lifting it up by the handles. Over she carried it to the corpse of Yihira, standing in front of it for a moment before looking over her shoulder to everyone in the room, but especially Kisarin, who had been quietly watching the entire time.

"What you all will see will undoubtedly be disturbing. If you're of a weak stomach, leave now."

Without any sort of grace or ceremony she dumped the contents of cauldron over the corpse. It should have flowed outwards, easily over Revali's own shoes and beyond, but instead the substance seemed to simply... cling to the body; not only cling, but actively seek. And then it began to seep in, slowly but surely fading into the flesh, a brown hue beginning to spread through, travelling as if the blood vessels just beneath the skin were still active.

Revali slowly bent over the body, and her hand reached down to light touch the forehead of the dead woman. She straightened, taking a step back and then holding her hand forwards, with it facing down. For a moment, nothing happened at all...

Suddenly both halves of the body jerked. Intestines from both halves lashed out, winding around each other to bring both halves of the body back together. The body stood in jerking, unpleasant and entirely wrong movements, like a puppet with half of its strings snapped. Even as the corpse took steps it briefly fell apart, the upper half crashing down to the ground before it surged back upwards once again.

The Queen of H'kela brought her palm up, directed towards the body. The body then floated, positioning itself as if on horseback at the proper height. Suddenly, the movements of the corpse became much more lifelike, with none of the jerks from before. In fact, if it weren't for the terrible wounds and now unnatural hue, it was almost as if Yihira were alive. The corpse looked around, and seemed to attempt to speak (though all they heard was guttural noises), before suddenly reeling back.

Both halves separated violently, flying across from each other in an instant, tumbling through the air and then crashing against the ground. Immediately, the moment was broken, and the now spent substance poured from the halves in a sickly brown sludge. The Queen lowered her hand, her head tilting slightly.

"She died quickly. Brutally quickly. But there were some details there..."

Semiparasitic substance that reads the remaining electrical impulses from the muscles and organs in reverse order, spending its energy in the process. I wonder if I could replicate it... That there was a corpse that had reconstructed itself from pieces, stood up, and moved freely despite its terrible state almost didn't faze him-- he was more interested in the process, in the effect that the noxious liquid had on the body.

Then the body split again, and little bits of gore flecked against him. Thank the divines for goggles and masks.

He took a moment to organize the information given by the scene he watched. "She was riding somewhere, relatively slowly by the way she held her body. She seemed to see the killing blow come in-- maybe the one who dealt it addressed her before it fell? The way the body separated, it seems like the horse she rode was also killed the same way. The wound isn’t exactly clean, but it must have been done by something both sharp and heavy. It also seems from the angle at which her body separates that the attacker was either much taller or somehow otherwise above the Chieftain, divines rest her soul." He paused again-- was there anything else he could glean?

"That's all I can see," he said, "unless there's something to be gotten from further autopsy. Given what we just saw, though..."

"Not bad." The Queen said dryly, even as she picked back up her cauldron to carry it back towards the table. "The attacker certainly wasn't taller than the Chieftain; if they were then they would be the size of her brother, and no one his size can leave no footfalls behind. If anything, I would guess the attacker was on the horse as well, which means that despite someone unfamiliar upon its neck and the impending death, the beast wasn't startled slightly. An unusual combination, to say the least."

Finally, she set about cleaning her hands, soon using a rag to dry them after having poured a fair amount of water of them, sending the excess into the cauldron in the process. She started walking back towards the King, who was inspecting the state of his cape; he had brought it around to protect himself when the bodies came apart, after all.

"So, King, you're not looking for any bandit. You're looking for someone highly skilled, and highly unusual; even more so than those of your growing Sentinels. The likelihood of you finding them, with that in mind, is almost nonexistent. Maybe if you sent someone like the Direwolf you would have a result eventually, but it won't be particularly quick."

Slowly, the King let out a hiss of breath, letting it slip out through his teeth. "Wonderful..."

The Capitol - An Invitation

His paranoia had not been unfounded, but learning that in hindsight did not do anything to help the fact that Yihira was dead, the damage was done, and more was to come. Yet knowing all of this only made Joachim's paranoia grow to further heights, creeping through his muscles in a constant tension, and in the rise of his hair along his skin. He couldn't help as if there were some sort specter lurking about, watching and waiting...

And so, Joachim acted. He was one of the first aware that something had awful had acted, and had disappeared well before the King could consider what orders to give to those who were on a level above the rest of the Sentinels. With a speed that only he could exhibit he went to the scene of the slaughter himself, finding it with only a few details from Alasa and having his senses do the rest of the work. For him, it wasn't that hard to find; despite the removal of the bodies, blood and bits of gore could not have been brought with, and it had seemed into the ground and trees. The very air itself no longer seemed healthy in the vicinity.

Alasa was an excellent tracker, and the Wanderer knew that much, but still he wanted to see it for himself, to confirm there was actually no trace left behind. It would have been one situation if it had been that Alasa's specific skills had caused him to miss something he wasn't aware to look for, and another entirely if there were truly no signs left... The more worrisome was the latter situation, and after spending an hour searching Joachim finally came to terms with the fact that, indeed, nothing had been left behind.

Bandits could not have been the cause behind this, so he wasted no time searching for them. Instead, he immediately returned back to the Capitol, to remain within minutes, and sometimes even second, to the King. With one leader targeted, everyone believed that another could quickly follow, and the paranoia that had settled in made him feel that the next appearance would be in the Capitol itself, and he wanted to stop it there.

He kept to the streets, listening and watching, searching the slightest sign for dissent. This may as well have been an exercise in futility, because besides some grumblings regarding the H'kelans, there was nothing like what he was looking out for. So he returned to the castle, and simply waited. Rather than keeping to the inside of the castle, her remained outside, on the walls or towers in order to watch the comings and goings to and from the castle. While it was large and he couldn't see it all at once, he kept as vigilant as he possibly could, and knew others were doing the same. He hoped that, together, a tight enough net would be created that no one would be able to slip through.

He was, of course, wrong.

When he had moved, settling in his new position where he rested against one of the southern spires, his feet fitting barely onto the base, he heard a voice. It came from behind and nearby, perhaps from the other side of the spire. Though the voice was young and spoken without even a slight hint of malice, the fact that it was there at all and what was said made Joachim's eyes widened as his hand fell towards his blade. He began to turn, even as the sentence was said:

"Shisor Yaguar would love to see you once again soon, in Kyora."

He flung himself around the spire, to the other side in a fluid movement with blade in hand, and yet there was no one there. His eyes darted around, swinging his head back and forth as he scanned the area around him, and yet there was no fleeing figure, or anyone attempting to hide. If it weren't for the fact that he was absolutely heard the voice, it was like there had been nothing in the first place.

The name that had been left behind brought him the greatest feeling of dread that he had felt in many, many years.

The Capitol - The Enemy Revealed

With nothing else to be learned from the body, Cyril turned to Kisarin to ask what should be done, and the Chieftain said pyres would do. There was no point in trying to take the bodies to the north, not after how many days had gone by; it would have to do for him to see the passage of his sister and her tribespeople to the next world, and for him to return to the north with news of it. The King left the details to the Chieftain, to make sure that no tradition would be left forgotten.

When it came to Godfrey Hildebrand, the King once again thanked him for his assistance, and also for his secrecy. However, before disappearing him, Cyril thought for a few moments before saying, "You know, I honestly think your skills are wasted running a simple shop and clinic. If you don't mind, I'd like to hire you for direct services. With assassins running about, you can never be too careful, yes?"

...assassins running about...

"Ahaha, yes, your majesty," he said, with a well-masked nervous chuckle. To be in service to royalty directly might have its perks, but it may also come with the kind of leash that he was not prepared to wear. He considered for a moment.

"With your leave, your highness, I think too many people rely on me in the locality of my shop to simple close it up and leave it. Would it be acceptable to continue my business and be of service to you on-call, your highness?" he asked. No way could he continue his more unsavory alchemistry under the roof of the Crown-- he'd be tried for treason.

The King gave a nod, following it up with, "You may, but for the time being, until this is resolved, I want you to stay close with the Sentinels. Just in case something happens, to me or anyone else."

However, even as they turned to leave, the door opened once again and in stepped Joachim. Usually, the Wanderer seemed nervous, slightly on edge, and uncomfortable so everyone had grown to expect it from him; however, the King could immediately tell something was wrong, terribly wrong. Joachim was pale, and his breathing was accelerated almost as if he had been fighting for his life just moments before.

"Joachim, what is it-?"

"He knows who killed Chieftain Yihira. The one who caused it."

After the initial uproar, especially from Kisarin, the news was spread throughout the castle. Quickly the Sentinels and their allies were summoned, directed to the outer ring of the castle; they were summoned to the strategy room, a room that, since the King had come to power, been entirely dedicated to Sentinel planning and deployment; with a great table that held a map that showed the East in detail upon it, with various markers on the board for cities, towns, groups of soldier, and even single persons, it had seen plenty of use in the previous days, but never something so dire.

With everyone in at relative comfort, the focus who was entirely upon Joachim, who was sitting away from the table and near one of the walls. He was looking down, holding his blade across his lap as he did so. They had been waiting for three minutes already, the King having directed their attention to him, and finally he spoke.

"The one who is responsible for the death of Yihira should not be alive. He is so, so certain that he saw the death of the one many, many years ago. He was there for the confrontation, after all, and for the casting of the body into the Void, but... They did not have the time and resources to follow the body, to find out where it landed. There must have been some life left in him."

Joachim's finger began to rapidly tap at the sheathed blade, his nerves showing through it. "He is a man of ruthless ambition and great power, the kind who will do anything to reach his goals. That's why we accepted him, and why he was drawn to us in the first place; we had power, and we were fighting against those who stood in his way. For a while it worked, and then... We all knew the day would probably come where we turned on each other, but still, he, as in this person, wasn't ready."

He was frowning, and for a few moments he remained quiet. Sighing, he finally looked to the group. "He apologizes. He should not try to rationalize why he knows this murderer, there is no point. What matters is that he knows that Shisor Yaguar, the Devil's Fire, is the one behind the attack, that he is in fact live, and that he is waiting for him, this one, in Kyora."

Once more, the reaction was sudden and loud, but it was the King's raised voice, demanding quiet in a single word that brought everything back to an even level. It was his question that was answered first:

"How do you know this?"

"He was approached by an agent, possibly the one who killed Yihira, and given a message. He has no way of verifying it, but... He knows that it is Yaguar. He can feel it."

"So what do you recommend that we do?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Kisarin asked, and his fist came down on the table, before he pointed directly at Kyora on the map. "We go there and we kill the bastard."

Joachim shook his head. "It will not be that simple. During the time of the God King War, Yaguar was easily one of the strongest members of the Gifted. If he is reappearing now, then that means he feels that he's finally healed from what wounds he was given at his defeat, and is possibly even stronger than before. He will have gathered men and women to us, and he is probably holding Kyora hostage as well; if we march there with an army, the burning city will undoubtedly be our battleground."

"So we just sit here then, on our asses?" Christopher called from his corner, and once more the Wanderer shook his head.

"No, we will not. Yaguar wishes to see this one; he will get his wish. He, as in this one, will depart immediately, and head to Kyora."

"That's suicide!" Ayano exclaimed, bursting up from her seat even as Diane struggled to get her to sit back down.

"No, he is not going to die. He is going there to draw Yaguar out. You," Joachim directed this more directly to the Sentinels, "Will prepare yourselves, and then follow. He hopes to have found a foothold in Kyora by your arrival, and then from there... Well, Yaguar will probably have something in mind."

"You make it sound like a trap." From where he stood, looming over the table, the Paladin said this with a certain measure of peace in his voice.

"No, not a trap, but Yaguar... has a flair for the theatric, and he doubts that has been lost to time." Joachim murmured, shaking his head. "He has no doubts that he is prepared for some sort of show."

"Travelling separated seems... foolish, Joachim." The King finally spoke once again, slowly crossing his arms.

"Perhaps." Joachim met his eyes, and for once looked with a purely serious, unflinching gaze. "But it is not for his benefit, but yours. He wants you all to think carefully before you decide whether or not you will follow him. It has been two months since a war, and he wants those who have enjoyed the peace to continue to enjoy it. He does not know what Yaguar has planned, but... Undoubtedly it will be hard."

"... Fine." Cyril said, giving a slight nod. "When will you leave?

"Immediately."

"We'll follow tomorrow."

"He appreciates the thought, but..." Joachim stood then, putting his weapon back at his side as he stepped towards the door. "He really wants you all to think beforehand."
The Darklight Project Member

Them Done Horrid Murder on Bloody Stages

Status

Recent Statuses

Bio

Most Recent Posts
