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 Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 3:12 pm
A Meeting Behind Closed Doors
Why?
A report concerning the traces left by the cultists' lastest appearance.
Whom?
Lord Yizhaq & Hayat (Indubitably)
-&-
The Black Knight & Sir Sloane (ex o ex Snoof)
Where?
The Shyregoad Headquarters of the Fellowship
When?
Several hours after the troupe's performance in Shyregoad.
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Posted: Sun Oct 03, 2010 3:25 pm
Yizhaq didn't bother to straighten his collar, adjust his hair, or even wipe the dark smudge from his high cheekbones, as he moved through the Fellowship's halls. At this hour, there was almost no one about, the place long quiet, as mages gathered precious moments of rest before dealing with the aftermath of the Troupe's performance.
As for this particular mage, well, he had a duty to attend to. Hours prior he had bid Sir Sloane and his companions farewell, scouring the stage for clues. A mask here, a blade, the wheel of death. They had all received his ungloved touch, had all whispered secrets into his mind and heart, the way Hayat did his ear.
A gloved hand rapped on the door, short, loud, to-the-point, and he waited only a moment before it opened. A brisk, tired nod from the young Lord was his greeting. While had done no battle, and his body was fine, the weight of his 'gift' made him weary.
"I have... Seen much," He offered, as a start, Hayat stepping from his palm to the table within the room, her dark gaze roaving.
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Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 8:36 am
The time from his return to the base with the small group had worn on and on as all time seemed to after that one precise moment of agony on stage. He met with the Black Knight, relayed the necessary information, and informed him of Lord Yizhaq's self-appointed mission before taking his leave to his personal quarters and dropping the bells off in a temporary dwelling of a pulled out shelf and some cloths for warmth and bedding.
After that, it was a waiting game, one he and the Black Knight played quite well with their current moods. They took up one of the dining halls, as was usual for meeting places within the Fellowship when it was not meal time but the typically somber atmosphere brought about by his Lady's decisions of decoration (dim lights, lit candles) was replaced with a silently seething rage emanating from both knights, white and black, just as fierce as the crackling fire in the hearth near them.
A swift rapping at the door prompted both armor-clad figures to turn their heads and stand, Sloane moving to open it only to reveal and disheveled Lord. Promptly stepping aside, he allowed the man entry and with a wave ushered him to take seat at one of the many chairs around the long rectangular table. The Black Knight stood at attention, all features hidden by the dark helmet.
"I have.. Seen much."
Sloane let out a sharp sigh at those words, a flash of memory rising before his eyes and ducking away into the shadows just as quickly; the felled Plague and Grimm, arranged lovingly in each others arms. The Black Knight made no such noise, though instead of looking at the Lord, his attention seemed locked onto the tiny feathered Servos wandering the table top.
"Tell us everything..." introductions would have to wait, though he knew his counterpart would take great interest in getting to know the monochrome lady and the Lord, as well, should like to meet the dark knight, but now was not the time. He needed to know everything that went on behind the scenes, everything that they could not have known otherwise. Everything about that poor woman and her 'brother'...
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Posted: Tue Oct 12, 2010 3:41 pm
While it was not the time to ask questions, Yizhaq's pale, green eyes lingered on Sloane warily, in a way that let the knight know that his earlier subterfuge had not been forgotten, but merely set aside in the light of something more important. Politely inclining his head to both warriors, he took a seat, Hayat's interest primarily on the figure in black.
Taking a slow, settling breath, he decided to just go through everything, and allow them to ask questions if they so desired, rather than go bit by bit.
"Forgive the jumbled style of my delivery, however, mine is not a precise magic. I will go through the things I have touched, and their deeper histories.
All of the items upon the stage, in particular, the podium, were quite old. Recycled. There was nothing new in this performance, all had come from prior displays. There was sadness, as those that took part knew that this would be their last excursion, before...
Before something, which I have yet to define. Something to do with a 'rebirthing,' that speaks of taint from the House.
The bell boy, and his Locos... They did not know what was to come. Both had worked for the troupe selling concessions, and she was kidnapped, taken from him, before the performance, by the House. He had granted permission for her to be used, but they did not know it would be a sacrifice. It stank of betrayal upon the wheel of her death."
The gloved fingers of his left hand drummed near silently upon the table, his own anger a cold thing, having long since turned to ice as he touched object after object.
"As for the 'ringmaster'." A slight narrowing of the eyes. "He was easily converted to their cause, by what seems to be, his own brother. He loathed the Fellowship and the Council, and felt that they had failed in serving the people of Panymium. He was weak of will, and easy for them to sway.
The troupe needed money, and the House provided them with a persuasive amount of financial backing. It was a business deal."
His gaze went to the Black Knight. Waiting.
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Posted: Mon Nov 01, 2010 11:21 am
The wary look was not lost on Sloane, but there was nothing he could do at this time. More important matters were underway and the Black Knight could explain far better than he ever could in even the most eloquent of terms. He watched as the Lord took his seat, eyes listing lazily toward the monochrome Servos now resting atop the table.
He could tell the Black Knight was staring, too, but neither spoke of her growth or her alignment, letting Lord Yizhaq have the floor entirely to himself.
At his apology, the Black Knight waved a dismissive hand; there was no harm in a delivery as such as long as they got as much information as possible and there seemed to be no doubt within the room that there would, indeed, be a great deal of information gleaned with the young Lord's magic. A talent that Sloane himself envied to a point, if only for him to be more useful to the Fellowship and his Lady.
Old and recycled performances from prior locales, a stinging sadness of an ending but mingled with a tiny bit of hope. Kidnapping, betrayal, all tactics used by the House and its presence had been all too clear.
The more Yizhaq spoke, the tighter the Black Knight's grip on the edge of the table became, eventually the clawed fingers digging into the wood and peeling thin shavings. Sloane's jaw was clenched so tightly it ached, gaze drawn to the floor as he dizzyingly recalled the details of the sacrificial murder, the attack, the massacre of the little ones and everything in between.
Though the Lord's delivery was to the point, rendering the length decidedly short, it felt as though time had stopped and seconds were hours. His words finally culminated into one pointed phrase that turned the room silent.
A business deal.
An angered grunt came from the Black Knight, claws scratching into the wood as his hands balled into fists. His back turned, armor clinking with the shivering form inside, and for a few seconds there was a still silence until a hand grabbed the back of the nearest chair and shattered it against the stone wall.
"A few schillings is certainly worth a life now, isn't it Lord Yizhaq? Worth the lives of children, the lives of innocents," the gruff voice echoed within the armor carrying a tinny tenor. "And surely worth the life of the queen. We do not have immediate results, and therefore all is lost," back still turned, his hands thrust out to his sides as though he was presenting some great truth, though his words dripped with sarcasm thicker than molasses.
Sloane watched the display of his counterpart knight warily, not seeing him act as such before, though he could not claim he knew the knight well or personally. The Black Knight was an enigma, which was further proven as after those words passed he fell briefly silent once more before clutching at his helmet and growling, as though reliving something terrible.
Without any thought, the helmet was removed and thrown against the wall. It bounced off and slid across the floor, a slight dent in its side. Long black hair trailed against the dark armor, lost against the metal. The unmasked Black Knight shuddered before taking in a deep breath and glancing to the Lord, Sloane and Hayat, pale skin barely hidden by the length of hair and bright amber eyes burning against the dim of the room.
"Hayat. You are most precious. We must keep you safe at all costs."
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Posted: Fri Feb 25, 2011 3:39 pm
It was a credit to the young lord that he didn't flinch in response, his haggard gaze remaining on the knight, rather than the shattered, wooden remains on the floor.
"Indeed, it seems to be so," A mirthless reply, and one that expressed a similar thought pattern to the Knight's. A moment passed, and soon metal joined the chair, hair slipping down to settle low on the armored back of the knight. "Mi'lady."
A lack of shock, perhaps because Yizhaq was far past the point of surprise, and as hazel eyes briefly met amber, he nodded, once. Before he could say anything, however, that dry, paper voice filled the room. It was strange, the way that her voice carried to its intended, despite her soft, certain tone.
"I am no more precious than my sister, who was murdered this night. We must eradicate them if we are to save this world."
Harsh, decisive words for an excito, and yet, Yizhaq had never felt her to be young. She had been, and would always be, a predator, and her justice flew on swift wings.
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Posted: Mon Feb 28, 2011 10:13 am
Lady Estratus merely locked eyes with the Lord, not bowing her head in return to his nod, but acknowledging the look all the same. Sloane, however, did bow his head as now it must have been slightly more clear as to why Beatrix had attended the performance with him and not his Grimm.
Hayat's words rang true through both Plague and Keeper, the Sword's eyes narrowing in agreement. "We'll see them suffer..." he murmured tightly under his breath, casting his gaze toward the broken chair on the floor. That was what he wanted, to break them apart so they were useless. Sage glanced at him briefly before returning her eyes to Yizhaq.
"Were you able to find anything else of importance?"
A thought clicked in Sloane's mind and his face softened. He moved a step forward to bring the Lord's attention on him so as not to interrupt the man. "There were many Plagues hidden within their ranks, I believe all of them were magic wielders - Quietus - but there was one in particular... He felt disturbingly powerful. I didn't notice at the time, but..." his voice trailed off weakly for a second before returning to its normal vigor, "He was the one aiming to take the Queen's head. He was going to do it himself." If there was any information the lord had on this one, it would suit Sloane's needs just fine. Perhaps he could track the Plague down if he knew what his item was, who his Grimm was, anything.
A full explanation of the situation would have to wait until this meeting was properly drained of all the new facts but Sloane would not forget to give the Lord what he needed now that it was out in the open for he and his Plague.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2011 10:52 am
Yizhaq nodded once, politely, to the sword, giving him the floor to speak, and knitting his brow further at the knight's words. He remembered the plague in question, his laughing ways. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of what might've occurred, what could have happened. Could still happen, should they not handle this situation properly.
"I know no more of use than you, Sir Sloane." A pity, but emotions were not facts, and the mixture of joy, fear, and excitement that had made the cocktail of the stage was not one that would help them in their hunt. There had been something... Though he was hesitant to present the idea. It had long sat in his mind, and was a seed that would continue to grow, as he had told his wife in the privacy of his study. "There is too much magic afoot, my Lady Estratus."
A sigh, weary, frustrated, the broken remnants of rage that followed the rubbing of his hand over short, dark hair. "Too much organization. Like the deal of the troupe with the cult, I fear that their connections branch far further, and deeper, than we should ever like to think."
He didn't dare say the word aloud, as if it would make the though a reality, however, his fierce Servos had no such qualms.
"Traitors."
His jaw tightened, and he did not take the thought further. He had no thoughts as to whom, or why [though the why's of betrayal were always, pathetically, the same], but it was there, out in the open. After a moment, he continued.
"I leave for Imisus in the next week, to follow what leads I do have. I hope to return soon, with something, anything, that can direct our efforts further."
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2011 7:39 pm
The lack of any more knowledge in regards to the participants left Sloane hollow and unsatisfied; his fists clenched in frustration but he alleviated himself with a strained sigh and rolling his head about his shoulders, releasing a few cracks of his neck. On the other hand, his Grimm had taken to sitting in another chair, hands clasped as she rested her chin against them and glared at the neighboring wall.
Betrayal.
Traitors.
She felt the smallest amount of bile rise into her throat at the very thought of these words as realities but it was all too possible. "Indeed possible..." she murmured, more to herself than Hayat or the Lord. Sloane's thoughts eagerly jumped onto those words, ready to hunt them down and rip them asunder while Lady Estratus strayed back, wanting to do her best and avoid it.
If Lord Yizhaq's assumption was based wholly or mostly on the fact of how much magic was within the ranks of the House, then Lady Estratus would like nothing more than to dismiss such thoughts. Magic was not and never had been restricted to the Fellowship but the Mages within it embraced it as life and reality instead of average and petty mysticism. Because there were so many users of the arcane arts within their House was, indeed, suspicious but until further proof and identities were uprooted there was little need to keep those thoughts at the forefront.
Amber eyes drifted to the Lord as he mentioned leaving, nodding slowly as she gathered her thoughts. "I do hope you find what you're looking for," she spoke gravely, looking then to the small feathered Plague. Her eyes narrowed but her brow upturned to show the slightest amount of concern, "Be vigilant. Be careful."
Sloane nodded with his Lady's words, giving apologetic glances to Yizhaq and Hayat before turning to Lady Estratus and opening his mouth to ask -- "You may." -- but she knew what was on his mind the instant their eyes met. He gave a dutiful nod before bowing his head to the Lord and taking a moment to find the proper words. "I apologize about the lack of information before, Lord Yizhaq, but it was for Lady Estratus' own protection. Since the large group of Obscuvans infiltrated this very base in an attempt to take her life, she has been under the persona of the Black Knight," giving a moment's pause for this lead in, his eyes roamed between the noble's and his Plague. Licking his lips nervously, he continued, "The woman at the performance was her body double, one I found wandering about Colwe. Her name is Beatrix Amaranth and she is a member of the Council, eagerly searching for a cure to the plague. She also bears a Servos."
Whatever questions the Lord might have were welcomed, though depending on how much information he had gleaned just from touching Beatrix was a factor Sloane could not predict. Hopefully, however, the good Lord would appreciate the effort of explaining the situation.
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Posted: Mon Mar 28, 2011 7:58 pm
It was purely speculation, borne from years of feeling the emotions and seeing the thoughts and motivations of others within his own mind. Humanity was corrupt, and even those considered the simplest, the most content, of folk, could be turned if their price was met.
What was Yizhaq's price? He did not know it. He had to wonder at the morality of those that did.
A bowing of the head, his eyes dropping in muted respect at her words, the murmured, "M'lady," of agreement, and soon Sloane spoke once more. The basics of what he said were known, though the way that Yizhaq gleaned information was far different than his factual statements. Instead, he had received 'impressions' of Beatrix, that were far different from Sage. Her deception had been clear, purely because she did not believe herself to be the woman that she mimicked.
"Thank you, for your confidence." An expression of gratitude that was extended to both armored persons.
At this point, Hayat stepped forward slightly, her glowing movement enough to draw attention from the watchful eyes of all within the room. "Is there anything more you require of us, Lady Estratus? I fear we are wasting the time we have, discussing things of the past, rather than preparing for what is to come."
Yizhaq cleared his throat at his companions bold words, but said nothing to correct her assertions.
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Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 11:18 am
Gratitude and thanks, these were things Sloane did not experience often aside from a few choice individuals and this must have been the first time he received such from Lord Yizhaq. The Infitialis bowed his head, accepting the Lord's thanks, before turning his attention to the Servos before them.
Lady Estratus turned at Hayat's words, regarding her curiously. She wondered if her thoughts mirrored her Grimm's and the Lord was simply too polite to say such things. Either way, it was a true statement and concern, and she offered a nod before pulling her armored body to a stand. "No," she spoke plainly, pushing her chair in and glancing at the wall where the remains of another lay crumpled and splintered from her brief moment of outrage, "If there is no more information to be presented then you may take your leave."
Sloane took this as a cue, moving to the side of the room and gathering the destroyed chair into a proper pile for easy cleanup. It could be used as fire wood now and that suited both he and his Lady just fine. The helmet was also retrieved, brought to Lady Estratus without need of her acknowledgment, running his fingers along the dent atop the helmet's cranium caused by it colliding with the wall. It would be an easy fix to get rid of it, but it would never be perfectly aligned again.
"Lord Yizhaq, Hayat," she locked eyes with each of them in time and gave a gentle bow of her head, "I thank you for your efforts. It has been enlightening," very nearly, she allowed her tone to sour at the negative connotations of that word pending the information given, but she drew back and straightened her posture, "I can only hope, whatever comes in the future, the end will be something to look forward to." Now, as well, she knew precisely who to go to if there were situations requiring a certain expertise; her own powers only went so far and did not overlap with Lord Yizhaq's. His usefulness, along with Hayat's, was abundant, as was the man's loyalty.
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