Of Vile Darkness

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

*Yill looks at both of you, his blue eyes blazing.*

"Well, what would you be doing if you'd be the Butterfly? You be smart lads, Darkhand and Stormrider both. You must have plans, in case all went rotton," Yill says in a drawl. He sounds very faintly amused.

~~~

*The old priest listens to Loviana's words with rapt attention, smiling broadly at her descriptions.*

"My dear child, you have truly been blessed. What you saw was nothing less than a vision of heaven. Orshallan's place there was forseen long ago, and often he uses the strength of that prophecy to bring others back from the darkness in which they wander. What you saw was a vision of Orshallan's soul as he stood for you to bring you back from oblivion," Aaron says, making a sign of blessing with one hand over your head.

~~~

*Wode indicates that Gwyn can do what he likes with the bodies, as long as they're found eventually, maybe in pieces.*

*Then the son of fiends goes to a district just beyond the Hollow and stops in a bar of mild repute. It's called The Spoon, and it caters mostly to skilled laborers, those who supervise young craftsmen, but those who are not yet Masters of their craft. Most of them are family men with homes nearby. You wait and watch, nursing a decent small beer, until you spot a reasonably handsome older man. Eavesdropping on him you learn he has two daughters, one of which is about to enter the Weaver's Guild soon. You smile and hide it behind your mug.*

*When the father leaves, you follow, stalking him silently through the streets. You've been wanting to do this for a while, to see some lovely young thing, her eyes bright with terror and the pain of betrayal, to taste her anguish and shame... yes... It quickens your blood just to think of it, and you try to restrain your enthusiasm. Too much and things might go wrong... and as satifying as it would be to kill the whole family, the Black Butterfly made things very clear when that happened the last time. You would not be hired again, and could even be marked for death again if your excesses disturbed the Butterfly's operations.*

*You hide across the street until the father goes in, pleased to see that he has a tiny house. Backtracking you get around to the alley, and then carefully work your way up to the window. You've had to go very slowly, as the area is crowded. Peering through the chinks in the shutters, you watch the father greet his wife, Lydia, and his two daughters, Lyla, the elder, and Antiphone, the younger. Lyly is the one you want, the elder, almost fourteen, auburn hair, willowy figure, with an exuberant sparkle in her green eyes. You feel a fierce rush of desire as she gives her father a good-night kiss and walks upstairs, her hips swaying almost magnetically.*

*Did she already want her father? You decide she must. Surely her kiss lingered a breath too long, her movements were too sinuous and subtle for a good daughter. You chuckle, didn't she realize such wickedness would see her tormented by demons for all eternity? Lucky girl, she wasn't even going to have to wait. You would have a delightful time with this little toy.*

*A simple plan takes form in your mind in between one breath and the next. Walking up to the door in your current guise, you knock frantically, and start bouncing around in agitation. The father opens up the door and looks at you in startlement. Before he can gather his wits, you run right over the top of him verbally.*

"Master Daban! Please come with me, Guildmaster Ellio needed you right away, something terrible happened with Terak!" you say frantically. Picking up the pieces of information you heard tonight at the bar and weaving them together is child's play. The man's name, employer, and the name of a reckless, troublesome apprentice were all you needed. Alarmed, Daban grabs his hat, says good-bye to his wife and runs out the door with you.

*You lead him down a narrow alley, and club him into unconsciousness before he can say anything. Waiting a few minutes, you assume his form and return to the home. Lydia looks up from her embroidery, startled.*

"Just a bit of an overreaction, they others are finished getting it sorted out. Shall we go to bed, my love?" you say, trying to throttle down your impatience and not snarl out the words. You want Lyla now. You've been patient, even restrained, you haven't had a new plaything in almost two weeks. Following Lydia up to bed, you decide to check on more thing before claiming your prize.

"Lydia, did you give all the servants the night off?" you ask, as she steps into the room. Lydia turns back and looks at you strangely.

"We don't have servants..." she starts to say, before you use Mercykiller to bludgeon her into unconsciousness. You tie her up, and take the keys she she had at the chain around her waist. You noticed that this house must have belonged to a miser when it was build; all the doors had locks on the outside. You lock her in her room, and then go downstairs and lock both doors there. Going back upstairs, you peak quietly into each room. One contains a sleeping Antiphone, and you quietly lock it. At around eight years of age, she's too young to provide any sport. The other room was therefore Lyla's.

*Smiling in anticipation, you enter her room. You cross the floor, cat-quiet, and shut her shutters, lighting a candle so that she can see your face. You bring out a few strips of cloth you had left over from tying up her mother and keep them ready to gag her if she started to scream.*

*Gently you reach over and kiss her, stroking her face and then along her body. Half asleep she responds, and you give as good as you get. Inwardly you're grinning; the girl must have a boyfriend or even a lover, as she was not unaccomplished in romantic kissing. Then her eyes fly open and she breaks off the kiss with a nervous titter.*

"You scared me, Da," she says, and instead gives you a kiss on the cheek. Her lips are warm, almost feverishly so, and you're certain she's in the throes of passion. She'll be in the throes of fear shortly, and you can hardly wait.

"Now Lyla, you can't expect me to believe that you didn't like kissing your Da like that. That was a very tender kiss, and you can't just go around giving a man those kisses and not go all the way. Now, you're going to help your Da, now aren't you, my dove?" you whisper, slowly beginning to move your hand to her more sacred places.

*You take a couple hours to lead her down into the depths of shame and fear. What started as a shameful seduction (in her eyes) became an exercise in terror that had her young heart beating like a rabbit. If she hesitated, you threated her, using the face of a man she loved agains her. Digging into certain places would leave very little marks, but would give tremendous pain. Forcing her to do terribly degrading acts under the threat of more pain, or the pain of her mother or sister is delicious, as is the worse pain that if she told she would bring more of this down on her head.*

*You leave her crying in the sheets, and carefully leave the place. You unlock all the doors you locked, and untie Lydia and take all of the restraints with you. Thoroughly satisfied at the night's entertainment, you take your previous shape in a secluded alley and go whistling cheerfully into the night.*

~~~

*Eradiel has Devon summon a carriage for her that evening, and quickly magically alters her apperance. From elegant drow to a red-headed, cream-skinned woman with remarkable assets, she steps into the carriage in a revealing gown of deep blue. Still quite pleased from her morning's entertainment, she settles back into the carriage with a sigh of contentment.*

*The Red Hall lives up to its name, being flooded with red magelights to enhance its appearance. Inside the place is swathed with red tapestries, carpeted in crimson, bouquets of red roses are everywhere, and red crystals adorn the walls. Telling the scalet-clad lad you meet the name of your party, he smiles and leads you to one of the larger rooms at the back of the house. Letting you in, he shuts the door behind you.*

*Inside, lounging on a black velvet sofa is a voluptuous woman clad in blue silk. Fine golden hair cascades down her back, not concealing her blue, butterfly-like wings. Fine jewelry encircles her brow, neck, wrists, ankles, waist, and fingers, all in delicate, elven-wrought silver set with opals. She regards you with a guileless gaze, putting one elegant finger to her mouth as if pondering you is taxing her mind.*

*A gnome man wearing concealing robes stands near a table on your left. A little hedgehog sits on his shoulder, nibbling on something. His robes are brightly colored, and he wears a long, multicolored hat. Rings encircle each of his fingers, and an elaborate shell belt wraps around his ample waist. He looks like a jolly uncle or entertainer.*

*The gnome steps forward to greet you.*

"Hello and well met Lady Eradiel! I'm Cedric Adornmap Jugglemaster, at your service, and this is Prickles," he says, taking your hand and the gesturing at the hedgehog on his shoulder. "Melody is the young woman over there. Come now, would you care for some wine before we dive right into business?"

*With that the gnome with raise one finger, and a decanter of wine and three wine cups with float over to a table in front of a second sofa. The decanter fills all three cups with a golden-colored wine, then sets itself on the table.*

*You recognize the name of the Jugglemaster, even if you haven't ever formally met before. He's known as an extraordinary entertainer for certain gnome families of wealth and means. He's also a strange assassin that prefers to have his victims laugh themselves to death. Despite his happy manner and disarming appearance, he is as cold-blooded as any assassin, and with far unhealthier habits than most.*

 

[Brother Shatterstone]

Loviana: Half-Nymph/Female (Rogue/Corruptor/Bondblade)

*Loviana recognizes the hand movement of the old priest but she makes no effort to stop or even acknowledge him as she looks into the distance. truly unsure what to think about the priest’s words she struggles to find any words for the priest.*

Turning back to the priest with a heavy weight on her shoulders she replies softly, “Then it would seem that I truly have lofty standards to live my life by.” She thinks upon her words for a second before a worried and sickening look forms on her face, “My sir, what would happen to the miracle worker if the person they saved fell from grace?”

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

"Well my dear, if that tragic even occurred... it would harm him, wound his spirit deeply. If that would happen I imagine he might travel to the celestial planes in order to heal his broken soul, though we would be bereft of him for many years. But surely we don't have to worry about that with you, young Larissa," he says, patting your shoulder in a fatherly way. "I imagine Orshallan may have to do it one day to redeem a great evil, but it is a burden he shoulders with grace."

 

[Paxus Asclepius]

Gwyn ap Fomor, Half-fiend Mortal Hunter

*Still elated from his play, Gwyn goes to his lair outside the city, the former den of a black bear. Regretfully, he leaves his weapons and armor there; they would attract too much attention, and he should be able to subdue a pair of priests unarmed if it came to that. He then returns to the city, wearing the form of a non-descript man, brown-haired and of average build, dressed in clothes appropriate to a footman or driver. He waits in the general neighborhood of the fountain until half past noon, then loiters within eyesight of it until the carriage arrives. He will simply lock the doors, rather than incapacitating the priests through violence; less notice that way. That done, he drives the carriage to his lair, retrieves Mercykiller, and subdues the priests.*

OOC: I'd add more, but there's enough that could go wrong that I don't want to get too far ahead of the game.

 

[Brother Shatterstone]

Loviana: Half-Nymph/Female (Rogue/Corruptor/Bondblade)

Loviana gives a small reassuring smile as she replies modesty not wanting to keep the conversation serious for to long, “Oh no, there is no need to worry about me as I’m just a simple girl with simple dreams…” She pauses in thought and her voice sounds uncertain even though she asks no question, “It is indeed a good thing that Orshallan’s heart is full of such compassion that he would spare no effect in a sparing me such a early fate.”

*After his reply she gives a tried look and thanks the old priest for his time. Returning to her mind thinks of little besides Orshallan while her body begins to act and long for him.*

 

[Rybaer]

Lord Torr Stormrider - human weretiger/rogue/fighter

*Torr watches Ralam's outburst and pacing with a passive expression. His own hide is the only thing that concerns him, so he's grateful that the focus of the captain's son will most likely fall upon the assassin.*

Wanna bet that Yill has us kill him at the next convenient opportunity? Torr thinks idly at Stormrider. Our employer might consider him to be more of a liability than asset.

Killers, especially professional ones, generally make for poor sustenance, Stormrider whispers back. This one's tempermental, though. Might make his killing a little bit tastier.

*Torr catches himself grinning slightly. He forces his expression back to a blank look and waits for Yill's plan for a course of action.*

 

[Rhia]

Eradiel, Drow Wizard 5/Mindbender 5

*Before entering the Red Hall, Eradiel sends Claire off into the night, thinking she will not have need of the familiar at this meeting, Enjoy yourself, little one. Find dinner, but stay close. I would have you come when I need you. The small owl spreads her wings and silently flies up into the evening sky, disappearing around the top corner of the Red Hall.*

*Eradiel is lead through a flood of red. Though she keeps up with the lad, she does not hurry. Instead, she takes in all the vibrancy meeting her eyes. She approves of the elegancy the Red Hall maintains. Under a less skilled decorator, the place would have fallen into a vulgar parody of itself.*

*Giving a nod to the boy, Eradiel enters the room, stopping just inside as she hears the door close behind her. She quickly assesses the winged woman as someone who might hurt herself if she thinks too much. She takes a brief moment to shift through the catalog of information in her mind for what she knows of women with blue wings. Regardless of what she comes up with, the silly woman is dismissed from her thoughts rather quickly. Shifting her eyes to the gnome, Eradiel smiles amiably at the rainbow-clad Cedric. Ah yes, the Jugglemaster. This should prove interesting.

"Master Cedric, well met," Eradiel gives a shallow bow to the gnome, ignoring the girl. "I have heard your name and know you to be an exquisite entertainer. I am honored.

"Yes, thank you. Wine would be perfect," she makes her way to the second couch, settling in on the soft velvet. She purposefully crosses her long legs, allowing the slitted gown to fall away from her knees, exposing creamy soft skin.

*Picking up a goblet with slender fingers, she looks upon Cedric again, "A toast to the Red Hall and to our future and, no doubt, successful business dealings together." Eradiel flashes him a seductive smile as she raises her glass in the air. She sips the full-bodied wine, keeping the cup in her hands as she looks expectantly at the gnome.

 

[linnorm]

Ralam Human Rogue 5 / Assassin 7

*Ralam's brow furrows in thought, one finger tapping the end of his nose as he thinks.*

What to do, what to do? Maybe Lady Arvnos can arrange a short visit to The Dread Lord's domain. No, too expensive and too many questions. A jaunt to the plane of air? No guarantee I can't be followed. Ahhh, yes.

Ralam smiles and looks at Yill, "Kill the priests and destroy the body; the ring too if it can be found. Perhaps a small token of our esteem can be left in the son's bedchamber while he sleeps, to let him know that we're thinking of him in his time of loss. In the mean time, I still need a second opinion on this F&*%#@g curse. I've got the feeling that the b$#!h is going to drag the cure out as long as possible."

 

[Isida Kep'Tukari]

"So..." Yill drawls, "you be deciding to answer a question of death with more death, more questions? Be you sure the curse ain't fried yer brain? No more death, not right now. We must be more subtle. A calling card isn't bad, but we must go at it another way. Come now, you both have far more ideas than that."

~~~

*Eradiel, you think you might recall that the winged woman is called Melody. She is a favored courtesan at Madam Gloria's, and a consumate spy for the Black Butterfly. Whether she just hears and repeats what she has heard with no understanding, or is just an excellent actress, no one has been able to prove either way.*

*Cedric toasts with you, and takes a sip. He takes another nut out of a pocket and hands it to Prickles.*

"I trust you've been doing well, m'lady, I've heard nothing but good things from you from our employer. And I hate to dive right in, but the night waits for no one, as we say. There's a need for your skills in gathering information. Two nights ago a girl was attacked and nearly raped by a corrupt laybrother of Heironeous. While he was doing his heinous crime, one of those mysterious knights showed up. He killed the laybrother, and was subsequently marked to follow by two 'employees.' However, there was some kind of scuffle, the girl got badly hurt, hurt enough so that Orshallan himself was called to attend to her. And now she's spent the last two nights in the Halls of Heironeous. Who is she? And why did Orshallan heal her? That's quite a mystery, wouldn't you say?" Cedric asks rhetorically.

 

[Rybaer]

"So..." Yill drawls, "you be deciding to answer a question of death with more death, more questions? Be you sure the curse ain't fried yer brain? No more death, not right now. We must be more subtle. A calling card isn't bad, but we must go at it another way. Come now, you both have far more ideas than that."

*Torr can't help but smile.* Are you sure just one more death wouldn't solve this problem? he thinks to himself with amusement. Perhaps Yill and I should have a private discussion later...

"What family or close personal connections does the son have left?" Torr asks. "Perhaps we terrorize someone close to him for a bit...without killing. Then leave the son a vague note indicating that the matter is closed on both sides, unless he wants to see others die...or worse."

*Torr pauses for a moment to consider flaws in his own plan.*

"I guess it would depend on the mindset of the son," he says. "How well do you know his personality? Do you think he might be receptive to that kind of pressure, or just double his efforts to track him down." Torr looks pointedly at Ralam when he says this last bit.