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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 17, 2014 21:38:45 GMT -6
So it was done. Her actions had led to death.
Not of her own, but to a friends. A sister's, as a matter of fact. Idina Doc, the girl with the scent of flowers, the one who'd made Sarea's days here less lonely and had her looking forwards to the day after the next, and after that. This pure and innocent girl was dead, and it was Sarea who did it. She hadn't seen the body, and wouldn't have liked to. Knowing that the cause of the body to be like there, soulless and staring with gaping eyes was her own cause would torture the elf.
It was her stupid love, her overly big heart that yearned for a woman once there and now gone, that made her willing to kill a friend who knew too much about a conniving and deceptive man. He played on their bond and Sarea's knowledge, and made it seem as though the two had slept together to call off Idina's engagement, as well as attempt to convince the residents of Wildgard that she'd been the one to murder a Church guard out of spite, when really, even Sarea didn't know who out of her comrades had done the deed.
Her thoughts danced around her head like a maddening flame, taunting her with their aleatoric sounds and heavy, percussive rattling, almost like a savage dance that she would succumb to eventually. Church bells chiming wildly and loudly, loud enough to crack skulls with their mere sound. Bass drums hit so hard that the casing would surely shatter, but with every hit, the noise only got thicker and stronger. Brass arpeggios stretching into unnatural ranges to the point where they sounded like shrieking. This was music, but only music for the mad. For those who couldn't make sense of reality anymore.
All because she yearned for an impossible love, she sacrificed one of the only things that could ever take its place. What kind of person did that make her?
The same kind of person who went back for seconds. The same kind of person who was now in the insubstantial plane, awaiting the meeting with the Raven to know whether or not her reward would be given out. The impossible love she surely desired, and yet it was now a tainted love, corrupt with lust and greed. It was no longer pure in any form, and she still wanted it. That's why she was here, ready to speak to her master, the Raven. Ready to obtain her cursed reward.
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Post by Lukis "Drunkard" Vinterheim on Nov 24, 2014 17:07:25 GMT -6
The cold air was everywhere, following him as he entered the Church of Her after the elf bard. He knew that Ibilin was here because last time he'd spoken to him over the rings, he had heard the Minister's weak voice, and soon their meeting in the Insubstantial Plane would begin.
By the Gods, why did he agree to such a deal? He thought that O'Donnel, his friendly drinking buddy and supplier of home goods, was a smarter man than this to let someone as rotten as the Raven from getting what he wanted. But it was his honour that Lukis was desperate for, and despite the fact that he felt no honour in assisting in a girl's death, he was sure that in time he would taste honour once more, especially when he brought the criminal the Clanless to justice.
But he was also scared. Idina had been murdered by the man he served, and now all of Wildgard was in uproar. There was a peasant revolt that was brewing, and Lukis had the honours of seeing it up close, knowing very well that if any of them figured out that he had anything to do with it, his ass would be on the end of those pitchforks. Idina was dead, and worse: she was dead without having ever experienced the joys of drinking, even afrer he brought bottles to her funeral just for her. There was no way that the Raven was going to get away with this one, and was sure that if the Raven was going down, he wasn't going down alone...probably taking himself, Sarea, and that French warrior who always reminded Lukis of ketchup and mustard with him.
He let his hand hang loose, waiting to feel the sliminess of Thok's tongue against his hand, wiping away the grease and booze that he couldn't, hoping that the feeling would reassure him, but he felt only the cold Northern winds as he entered the church's basement behind Sarea.
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Post by Ibelin Dumont Baltonien on Nov 24, 2014 17:12:54 GMT -6
Here came Titties, usual solemn look on her pretty little face.
Next came Lukis, who also wore the same face as if he'd just witnessed a murder.
Ibilin was there to greet them: Titties with a big kiss on the knuckles and, for extra comfort, a light grapple on her firm right buttock. Lukis with a slight nod, a pat on the shoulder, and a wink to show their potential friendship, if only Lukis would stop mistaking him for 'the defender of condiments'.
"Alright, here we all are, and let's get down to business, shall we?" He slid his finger across his ring as he said the words, and suddenly, the floor below his disappeared, only to be replaced by a field of flowers, all different kinds and colours. In every place that the sky was blue, it was obscured by a girl, most of them naked and laughing, their breasts afloat like birds, their lips up against each-other's, and Ibilin wasn't part of the fun.
He couldn't quite reach any of the girls, as every time he tried to get closer, they simply vanished into shadow. By the time the last one was gone, the flowers had turned black, the sky a hue of mixed shades, and Lukis and Titties had already arrived, both still wearing their funeral faces.
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 24, 2014 17:33:27 GMT -6
Her music had completely vanished.
Normally, on her way to this plane, she heard music. Beautiful pieces that had yet to be written or had already been performed. The ones that spoke of love and heart, of the tavern songs that would accompany a fun evening with close companions. Now there was nothing. No music, no voices, only deafening silence.
She was here now, and she just wanted what she had worked so hard for and to be gone. The stone would be hers to use, and she would raise Jennis from the ground, pull her spirit from whatever torture it was facing, and be held in her arms once more.
She nearly burst into tears thinking about it; after all, Idina was dead, and Faljere soon would be, too, all because she couldn't bear to live without someone who death had come for too early.
"Raven!" she called out harshly, her words as out of tune as her heart. "Come out now!"
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The Raven
Apprentice Roleplayer
I am Her champion...and I will not retreat from Her will.
Posts: 52 
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Post by The Raven on Nov 24, 2014 17:42:55 GMT -6
The girl calls me.
This is odd.
Her voice.
So dissonant.
Like her heart.
She still yearns for her love.
But there is much more that needs to be done.
The figure descends from the sky and stands in front of the group. The Nord and the elf wear grim faces, ready to burst into sobbing. The warrior stands, waiting. No one makes their thoughts heard; all words that need to be heard as spoken.
"I congratulate you all on a successful operation. The girl with ears too big for her own good stands dead. Her body is no more. Her soul is with Her. That was too close a call, might I say. But you did very well. Might I add, Lukis, I appreciate the touch of stealing her own dagger to use. And Ibilin: well stabbed."
He turns to the elf with neutral eyes that nowhere near match his words. "And to you, Miss Sarea, Act III went splendidly, would you not agree? The tears. The heartbreak. All a wonderful piece of art performed by a true master, I would have thought you to actually be in love with her. But such is the skill of a bard, so I shall say. I look forward to how you'll perform in Acts IV and V."
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 24, 2014 17:54:34 GMT -6
His words stung, a blade lined with poison and hot oil piercing into her heart and soul.
She still could hardly believe that it had been her lies--no, her acting--that had brought death's grip upon the beautiful and pure girl she had known as a sister. Perhaps had she warned Idina about the rings, she would have been able to spare her, but that would only make Sarea a target as well as Idina. There were days where she watched Sarea's performances with such vigour, such endless joy. This was the last performance she ever got to see from her, and it stung that it was in such poor taste.
But the Raven was wrong about one thing: she would not be performing in the next acts. She would be gone by the end of this one, and her finale would be two thousand years of guilty love. Broken love.
"Cut your babbling, I want only the stone to resurrect Jennis. Then I shall be gone, never to work with you again, do you understand?" she spat, her voice retaining its cold dissonance. "Or would you rather I have a talk with the Minister? I'm sure he and I could come to and agreement without you."
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The Raven
Apprentice Roleplayer
I am Her champion...and I will not retreat from Her will.
Posts: 52
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Post by The Raven on Nov 24, 2014 17:58:01 GMT -6
If only she could understand her treason.
Her lies of disloyalty.
She would not be so willing to give up this mission quite yet.
The Raven swoops over to her, his cloak billowing at his feet, his mask nearly poking her brow with its length.
"Oh, buit there is far too much for you to do still. Your work is not over until I say it is. When you have finished, you shall receive your love once more. But until then, you work for me."
He draws from his fist a red stone; the infamous Lapis Philosophorum. "There is to be no deals with the Minister. I have taken his stones. His open heart would have given you all what you desired had you gone to him tonight. I have ensured that he will not."
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 24, 2014 18:01:14 GMT -6
In his hand was the Philosopher's Stone, and it was so close that she could just reach it. But that would show the Raven two things: it would not only show him that she was stupid enough to take something from the Insubstantial Plane, but also it would show him that she was ready to betray him to sate her lust.
Holding herself as high as she could, she countered: "Then I'll just have to reveal you plot to everyone else. It's not as though you could get away with it if everyone knows. You'll be hunted down and killed."
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The Raven
Apprentice Roleplayer
I am Her champion...and I will not retreat from Her will.
Posts: 52
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Post by The Raven on Nov 24, 2014 18:03:31 GMT -6
The figure shakes his head. He makes his thoughts known again, if only to announce them to everyone.
You are not well.
You are usually wilier than this.
You know well the punishment for treason at my hand.
You will be slain by me if this is your choice.
If not, then the people of Wildgard already distrust you enough to end your life as well.
You have no other choice.
You will wait your turn.
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Post by Lukis "Drunkard" Vinterheim on Nov 24, 2014 18:17:20 GMT -6
He couldn't believe how much of a dick the Raven was. He knew that he was a slippery man who knew how to get what he wanted, and he knew very well just how condescending he was, but this was just borderline evil.
"Hey, Master Raven! I don't think it's quite nice to be picking on her at a time like this! She was friend with Idina, and you're using that to your advantage! In fact, to even hold a meeting so early is just in poor taste to her memory!"
He backed away, knowing that he was next for the Raven's brand of condescension, but since he was taller and probably older, he managed to keep himself upright and his face stern.
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The Raven
Apprentice Roleplayer
I am Her champion...and I will not retreat from Her will.
Posts: 52
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Post by The Raven on Nov 24, 2014 18:20:49 GMT -6
His thoughts disappear entirely, and his voice returns as he sweeps in front of Lukis. The men are of similar height. Although Lukis seems larger, it is clear who holds more authority.
"You would speak to me in this manner? I have already told you the punishment for treason, or perhaps Sarea's mind is infectious. We hold this meeting so that you all know that you are not to go against me in this time of disorder. Ibilin, would you please stop flirting at a time like this?"
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 24, 2014 18:21:51 GMT -6
Lukis stood in front of the Raven now, and his courage was most admirable. What wasn't was Ibilin mouthing words to her from beside her. She couldn't understand them, and she surely didn't want to, so she ignored them and turned back to the Raven and Lukis.
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The Raven
Apprentice Roleplayer
I am Her champion...and I will not retreat from Her will.
Posts: 52
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Post by The Raven on Nov 24, 2014 18:24:13 GMT -6
"My time here is done. I have summoned you to know only what I have told you. With Idina dead, our true task remains concealed and immaculate. We will have the Clanless' life soon enough, and you will obtain what your shallow hearts desire most. Dismissed."
When he dismissed the meeting, he waves his hand, forcing them all to awake wherever it is that they are. He stands now, alone in the plane, the shadows swirling around him like a vortex.
Such is Her will.
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Post by Ibelin Dumont Baltonien on Nov 24, 2014 18:25:52 GMT -6
When he awoke, he was faced with a nice upskirt view of Titties leaving the basement with an angry stomp. At first unable to move, or rather not wanting to, he remembered what he needed to tell her.
"Oy, Titties!" he called out as he got to his feet.
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Post by Sarea Riel Dirao on Nov 24, 2014 18:31:16 GMT -6
She stopped when she heard the voice of the most wretched, vile pervert she'd ever met calling to her. She would be glad to see this man away when she ended her alliance with the Raven.
But now, she wanted to tell him how she truly felt, and how she truly felt as no joyful melody.
"I have a name, Ibilin Dumont Baltonien, and it's Sarea Riel Dirao. I am no Titties, and I am especially not your Titties." By now she was stepping towards him, a fire in her eyes. "Because I have a love that will not be removed by your desperate need for intimacy--no, not intimacy. Outright sick-mindedness. I am tired of you telling me that I will get over Jennis because I won't, and I am tired of you grabbing my rear, or kissing my knuckles, or flirting with me because you know what? Those are the types of things that get you stabbed, and if you have something worthwhile to say right now, you'd better say it because I am one nerve away from turning this blue stone yellow and striking lightning on that poor excuse of a penis that it ninety percent of your personality!"
This was no song: this was her true anger. The wrath of a girl whose heart had too much room for love, as when one had room for love, they had just the same amount of room for hatred.
When Ibilin said no words, she turned towards the stairs and stomped forwards, not caring about the creaky steps and his gobsmacked expression. The man certainly deserved it.
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