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| Chronicles of Athylon; Act I: The Rose of Rotharia | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 13 2013, 11:59 PM (3,389 Views) | |
| Archbass | Nov 26 2013, 03:02 AM Post #31 |
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The Architect
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Only one thing mattered to Seth in all this chaos. His handiwork was going down in a hail of holes and breaks. The performance ended at the monologue. Yet, the only thing on his mind at the moment was his little sister. His kid sister. By now, things had died down on the stage. The chaos by now had coalesced away from his construction. He scrambled towards the chairs. He wanted to call her name, but his words choked in the back of his throat. Everything was ruined. What if they got Alex too? "Oi, peon," someone said behind him. "You lookin' for something?" He turned to see the shadow of Cyrus towering over him. "Y-yes." "Stiff upper lip, peon." "It's Seth." "I know that, peon. Now what're you crawling around for?" "A-alex is missing." "Who?" "My sister! My sister is missing!" Seth hadn't intended to raise his voice, but as he did he croaked. Cyrus smirked, more amused than anything. "Oi, Cyrus, you bothering the bedazzler?" Someone else -- that Fraye lass, definitely-- said. If this had been any other time, the word 'bedazzle' would have made Seth's blood boil, even coming from this giant's mouth. But with the violence on the stage, even in its closing, and with Alex missing, he had no idea what to respond with. "Nah, he's just blubbering 'bout his sister." Fraye approached, and scanned Seth up and down. She didn't share Cyrus's smirk, but rather a half-frown. "The pissant? Fer fucks sake." "I'd a-a-a-agree," Seth said. "But...help, please." He couldn't keep a stiff upper lip at all. Not when his imagination started running wild. He was already smelling blood -- he wasn't sure if it was his, someone else's, Alex's... He started quivering again. He felt sick. Fraye rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, we'll look for her." She nodded to Cyrus. "If we can't find 'er, you'll probably have to find someone else. Try askin' Zazzmitaz." "...who?" "Thaeran." That hadn't occured to Seth in the chaos. Now that things had died down, he decided that perhaps this was better than having to listen to Fraye talk for any longer. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Finding Thaeran with Rillian and Silversteel didn't offer any relief for him. They were tending to their wounds--Thaeran's broken guitar laid off to the side, Silversteel was in bandages, and Rillian was surprisingly unhurt in this entire scuffle, and the three of them were silent. Silversteel raised his eyebrows upon seeing the shaken Seth open his mouth, and nothing coming out. It took Seth a few minutes. By the time something came out, it was enough for the three of them to catch on. "...she is missing," Silversteel said. He clenched his teeth. "It must have been during the attack..." "I know that!" Seth snapped. "Woah, woah. Look, Seth, bro..." Thaeran said. He clasped a hand on Seth's shoulder. "Chill. We'll find her." The four of them exchanged looks -- Rillian looked the most hurt. He fumed, even, as much as Seth wanted to. But Seth knew he would stay behind. The stage behind him looked a sad picture of what he would have to help fix. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Navitia stood on a stage that used to be her's. Her blood boiled. She tapped her cane hard on the back of the canvas--thumping as loud as she could to get the attention of anyone within shouting distance. She had a plan--a conviction rather. The Twin Mask Ensemble would not stand for this. The magnitude of this disaster truly dawned on her the moment she had heard Ruezann in the midst of the aftermath, and his cold report from the Bluecloaks. "They have her. They've captured lady Harmon." Navitia would not stand for this. She would not stand for the robbing of her guest of honor, the destruction of her show, and the ruination of her magnum opus. "Ladies and gentlemen!" she said. She didn't miss a beat, as if she were still MCing for the show that could no longer go on. "The next tale to be told is a tale of daring, a tale of heroics. It is a tale that shall be told in full right before your very eyes. For you, my friends, shall meet the heroes who shall partake in the Rescue of Lady Priscilla Harmon as performed by members of the Twin Mask Ensemble...and any other volunteers." She whirled around to see Ruezann, slow-clapping. "This isn't to save face, you know," she said. "Besides, we won't until Lady Harmon is safe and sound, no?" "How certain you are." "Of course, dear. You know well enough that these ruffians won't take too much a licking before they drop everything and run from us." "And our 'heroes'?" Navitia waved vaguely out to the wreckage and the mess--including the collapsed piano, and the harp with cut strings--the poor girl Cyanne was in the midst of tears while fixing it with her deft hands, but no one would come to the aid of Ornstein's piano. Not while the Lerender lad was in a mess near Thaeran, Rillian, and Silversteel. Those four looked like they were discussing something--whatever it was, it couldn't have been good. "Oh, I suppose Karia will have to lead them herself, no?" "Hmph. You think that lapdog who follows you around would be ashamed to see this?" "Definitely." "Then why isn't he here?" Navitia bit her lip. She scraped a layer of lipstick from her lower lip, revealing pale underneath crimson, as she thought about this. Grath was indeed not there, and Navitia had not seen him before the performance. She left the stage in her buried fury. The whole Ensemble was in jeopardy, and any loose ends had to be accounted for. Especially when their last lifeline was unaccounted for. |
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| arrogantRooster | Nov 26 2013, 08:48 PM Post #32 |
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Stagehand
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Damian snapped both eyes open and immediately squeezed them shut again at the sudden influx of sensory information. It felt like a hammer was repeatedly striking the inside of his head, sending pulses of pain shooting through his skull. His tongue felt thick and fuzzy in his mouth, and every noise sounded like thunder - much, much too loud. Even his own heartbeat hammered in his ears like the rhythmic pounding of a drum. He muffled a groan. Images flashed behind his closed lids: The flash of steel, accompanied by a pierced rose. Panicked townspeople, rushing for safety. Lady Harmon, knocked out and carried away. Damian bolted upright, hissing through clenched teeth as his vision swam. The room spun though he remained still; he fought against the extreme urge to vomit. Through sheer force of willpower, he managed to stand. The dizziness faded slightly, leaving behind a raging headache and a sense of befuddlement. At least he could walk. Small comforts. He had been placed on a makeshift bed on the floor inside some sort of... temporary infirmary? Other people - guardsmen, citizens, and members of the Ensemble alike - were similarly being treated for their wounds. He looked around. Damian was fairly certain that this was just the backstage of the production. It was a smart idea - the injured would not have to be moved far in order to be tended to. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a young man skillfully stitching up a particularly nasty gash inflicted on one of Damian’s fellow guardsmen. Damian checked his side - the armor covering his torso had been removed by necessity, but his own wound had been bandaged and seemed to have stopped bleeding. Finding his chestpiece laying on the ground beside him, he put it on and quickly redid the straps. He made a mental note to thank the man later, after everyone had been accounted for. “Lieutenant Faust!” Damian turned to see one of Lady Harmon’s personal guards approaching. They exchanged salutes before Damian spoke. “I’m glad to see you’re well, Corporal Torres. Please, give me a full report for today. I want to know everything that happened while I was incapacitated,” he requested anxiously. “A branch of the Seareavers lead by a… Captain Reyna, I believe - they attacked and kidnapped Lady Harmon,” Torres answered. He hesitated before continuing. “Lady Harmon was not recovered. They still have her, sir.” Damian stiffened. His hands balled into tight fists. Another wave of nausea rolled over him, forcing him to close his eyes and lean heavily against the wall for support. “And our casualties? Are the townsfolk safe, besides the ones here?” he managed in what was almost a plea. Please, let them be alive. Please tell me they didn’t give their lives because I couldn’t - “Unfortunately, several Avareuxian citizens were trampled during the rush to get out despite our best efforts to lead them out safely. Five of the men in Lady Harmon’s guard were lost,” Torres continued in a much quieter voice. Damian grit his teeth. Certainly, he was not unaccustomed to his fellow soldiers dying, but it still shook him each time. His stomach churned in protest at his stress. You fool, chided the voice in his head. You failed your people, your soldiers and Lady Harmon. You’ve failed everyone. “Sir?” Torres prodded after a few more moments of silence. “What are our orders?” “... Take whoever is able and assist in tending to the wounded. Search the area thoroughly for any injured who may have hidden or been overlooked. Secure the perimeter of the city and double the guards stationed by the port if you haven’t already. And… retrieve the bodies of our comrades. We must notify their families and give them a proper burial.” “And what of Lady Harmon?” “I must speak with the Ensemble. They’re likely to know more about the Seareavers and this ‘Captain Reyna’ than anyone else here,” Damian responded wearily. “Thank you, Corporal.” Torres nodded and gave a farewell salute before exiting. Damian pressed his fingers against his forehead and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. If only I had been faster. If only I had noticed sooner… I’m sorry, he apologized. And thank you all for your services. Your lives will not have been given in vain. Lady Harmon… I will find you. Please, Avaleria, keep her safe. He straightened, ignoring the throbbing in his temples, and weaved his way back through the recovery ward to the first Ensemble representative he could find. |
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| Wanderlust | Nov 27 2013, 12:31 AM Post #33 |
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The Sleeping Soul
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Thaeran was still trying to calm Seth down - and ease his own anxieties - when he noticed Ruezann was standing behind him. "What's the situation?" he asked plainly. "Well... almost everyone's accounted for, and none of our own have taken injuries those Shepherds hanging around won't be able to fix. A few civilians were trampled in the chaos, but..." Thaeran sighed and shook his head. "I don't think this was the Seareavers' grand vengeance - they were just sending a message." "Almost everyone?" "We haven't found Alex yet, but... look, she's probably just hiding somewhere, she's not used to this sort-" "No," Rillian said. "I was on the rooftops the entire time. I saw her hiding behind the stage, but when the Seareavers moved to take Lady Harmon she suddenly bolted down the western street. I... lost sight of her after that." "Y'see? We'll probably find her back at the Rose or the Froth. No worries." Thaeran tried to give the others a encouraging smile, but he didn't look quite convinced himself. Still, he turned back to face Ruezann. "Listen, there's something I need to tell you. Something important. Guys, I'll be right back." He gave Seth a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, then wandered off to find privacy. Ruezann followed. "What is it?" "Another one of the Order's Shepherds invited himself backstage while our new friend Samus was fixing me up. He had some... rather interesting news to share." "Out with it." Thaeran scratched the back of his head; he was still processing the information in his own mind. "He said Corvail's flagship went down, and good Prince Cecilius with it. So much for the royal wedding, yeah...?" Thaeran was hoping for some sort of reaction out of Ruezann, but he remained as stone-faced as ever. Strangely enough, he didn't even look the least bit surprised. "His brother, then," he said simply. "Silvius Falbrecht. He's to be our new emperor." "Yeah, looks that way. Let's hope we like the little punk, huh?" He shrugged his uninjured shoulder. "It doesn't matter whether or not we like him," Ruezann said, turning away. "Only that the Pereiras do." _____________________________________________________________________________________ Elijah Pereira had decided that he liked this Silvius. When Evania had stormed off after hearing the news of her husband-to-be's demise, his first instinct had been to go and comfort her, but he'd stopped himself when he saw Markus Orelian follow after her. Eli knew he'd be able to handle the situation better than he could - sometimes he thought Markus knew his sister better than even he did, when his frequent leaves of absence from Valencia were taken into consideration. So instead he'd stayed behind with the congregation that arrived from Corvail, introducing himself, paying respects, saving face, and exchanging all the pleasantries expected of one in his position, regardless of how uncomfortable it made him to do so. He focused most of his attentions on Silvius Falbrecht himself; he was to be their emperor, and his brother-in-law besides, and even Eli knew how important it was that he felt he was being welcomed and given the proper respect. Still, it was strange talking to the mirror image of a dead man. Eli had met Cecilius Falbrecht on a number of occasions when he came to Valencia to visit Evania, and he had never been quite sure what to make of the prince. He treated his sister kindly and was always a polite and gentle man, but some small part of Elijah - the part that his mother had bred into him - wondered if he actually had the inner strength and force of will to be a king. Being a good man was not always enough. The fact Eli could get away with teasing the son of the legendary Emperor Aurelius Falbrecht was telling in itself. And Cecil had often seemed so distant, restless, and wrapped up in his own mind... Physically, Silvius was almost exactly like his brother, but he could not be more different in personality. He was charismatic, confident, and full of life and fire where Cecil had been quiet and reserved, and while Cecil had only really spoken to his sister and parents, Silvius wasted no time in getting to know all the men and women of the Valencian noble court, making a point to win the Pereiras and their retainers over with his natural charm and doing an admittedly decent job of it - as far as Elijah was concerned, at least. Before he knew it, they were sitting together at the edge of one of Valencia's high balconies overlooking the rose gardens, sharing the finest spirits the kingdom of Rotharia had to offer. Silvius held up his glass of wine. "What did you say this was again?" "Rajaveran Red," Eli said with a grin. "The best there is, especially when you've troubles you need to face." The Corvailian prince raised an eyebrow with a bemused expression. "And what troubles do have I to face, my friend?" "My sister, of course. Evania will warm up to you eventually, but she doesn't like being told what to do. Even if that 'what' is marrying a handsome prince. It was hard enough for her to accept her impending marriage to your brother at first." "Ah." Silvius spun the glass between his fingers as he looked out across the gardens and towards the setting sun beyond. "I suppose I can't fault her for that, but we must all make sacrifices for the good of Athylon. I trust she will see the solidarity our union will bring between our two kingdoms, and learn to love me in time. My brother cared for her deeply - I hope to get to know her as well, even if I cannot be Cecil." Better that you aren't, Cecil was boring as shit, Eli thought to himself, but he didn't dare say the words aloud. Instead he cocked his head towards Silvius and gave him a wry smile. "If you want to get to know her better, then why are you here talking to me, and not her?" "I assume she needs time to grieve. My brother only just died, and I look so much-" "No no no," Eli muttered with a shake of his head, interrupting his future emperor. "If she knew you were thinking that she'd feel patronized. If I know anything about my sister, she's grieving by beating the everliving crap out of our guardian. Or trying to, at least. Evania's a strong woman - you don't need to treat her delicately, so long as you treat her with respect, and allow her her independence when she needs it." Silvius nodded his head slowly - he looked a bit irked at being cut off, but let it slip. "You know her well, I take it?" "Well, yeah. We've been together since... the very beginning. Isn't it that way with all twins?" "I suppose it is," Silvius said, but it didn't seem quite sure that he meant it. He brushed aside a strand of silver-blonde hair. "My brother and I were close. But despite sharing a legacy, we were very different people, and couldn't always understand one another. I loved him, and miss him dearly, but there was always a... rift between us, I suppose." Elijah gave him a wink. "I think I can understand. My sister means the world to me, but despite sharing so much, there's always been differences between us. She's always been a stronger person than I, for one, and I think I accepted from an early age that she was going to be heir to the throne and not me. When I was younger I sort of felt like I was living in her shadow, and that's one reason I ran off with one Ensemble or another a few times. But I'd never fault her for it - I only respect her more. She can be the ruler Rotharia needs, I'm sure of it." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Still. Have you ever felt like you were living in Cecil's shadow? Or, hell, your father's?" "No," Silvius said curtly, "I haven't." Something told Elijah that he was lying, but he didn't intend to press the issue. "And Evania won't be ruling from Valencia - you will. Your sister will be empress of New Xenthia, and one day, you will be king of Rotharia." Fuck. Somehow Elijah hadn't thought of that - an assumption that his parents were immortal, perhaps. He'd resigned himself to the thought of wandering Rotharia until the end of his days after his sister's wedding, and he had been liking the sound of it more and more as time went by. Wealth and fame suited him just fine, but the responsibilities that came with being a nobleman less so. Him? King? It was too absurd a thought to even consider, and so he didn't, and instead pushed it to the back of his mind. A worry for another day. "Right, of course," Elijah said with an amicable smile. "And speaking of my sister, she's probably wondering where the hell the both of us went. Let's go say hello, hm? Oh, and be prepared to have to court our guardian Markus, too - if she does leave this place, I imagine he'll be going with her." The wine was coming off of him now, though, and he was beginning to realize how casually he'd been speaking to the future emperor. "Ahem. Your Grace." "Call me Silvius," he said. "One day I will be emperor, but no one kingdom in New Xenthia is above another. You are prince of Rotharia, and I of Corvail. For now we are equals. And soon enough, brothers, no?" Elijah gave him a small smile. "I suppose we will be, if you can win my sister over as easily as you did me." |
| A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one. | |
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| Karia Morsenia | Nov 27 2013, 06:26 PM Post #34 |
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Dragoness of Spellsongs
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The bustle in the square was finally beginning to dwindle, with the dead carted away and the citizens finding their ways home. The injured had been stabilized well enough for the Ensemble's own to be carried back to the Crimson Rose to get comfortable on beds while other injured were taken elsewhere. Most of the Twin Mask crew were wrapping up gathering their belongings as Karia watched. She had caught wind of not only the kidnapping of Lady Harmon, but their young thief Alex hadn't been seen. Karia's fist clenched against her palms. She knew the Seareavers were hitting them with another personal blow, and she wasn't going to stand for it. She hopped up on a pile of crates and whistled, catching everyone in the area's attention. "Gentlemen and ladies, there will be a meeting I will host on the deck of the Crimson Rose within half an hour. If you're able to walk and hold a sword without dying, then I want to see your face among the crowd. More details will be given at the gathering." She stepped down and began to head towards the Crimson Rose, already making a mental list of what she planned to snatch from her quarters. She saw Felicia making her way back to her ship, looking much better than when Karia last saw her. It didn't take long for Karia's strides to catch up with and match the captain's. "You're feeling better then, captain?" "Yeah, I've been worse for wear before," the other woman replied. "This is true, I suppose. The pirates took us off guard and with a lot of men, so you should know you did well on such short time for rebound," Karia said, her height having her glance down when speaking to Felicia. "I'm pleased to see you're walking around." "So am I." "Felicia, I need you to do me a quick favor. That announcement I made to everyone out here? There are some crew back on the ship that didn't hear it. I'd like for you to spread the word for them to meet with the rest of us on the deck," Karia stated, the seriousness creeping back into her voice, replacing the care she had held in her tone. "Excuse me, ma'am," a voice called from behind Karia. "May I speak with you for a moment?" Karia cast a sideways glance over her shoulder and turned towards the voice to see it belonging to a young man dressed in royal guard armor. She inclined her head in a slight nod. "Certainly." Karia motioned for Felicia to continue back to the ship, focusing her full attention on the man. The man approached her on slightly unsteady feet, stopping at a respectful distance to bow. "My name is Damian Faust," he introduced himself. "You are... Karia Morsenia, the Ensemble's head of security, correct? I'm honored to speak with you." "That I am, and you must be of the royal guard, and of higher stature to be in the company of Lady Harmon," she said before bowing her head. "I apologize for her capture and our unsuccessful attempt of retrieving her. The Seareavers are a troublesome lot of filthy sea bandits, yet they're not fools. There's an angle they're playing." Damian seemed to tense briefly. He shook his head. "No, the protection of Lady Harmon was our responsibility. As such, it falls within our duties to make sure she returns safely. So please, can you tell me any more about these Seareavers who captured her?" Karia crossed her arms and laid her gaze intently on him. "They're a very large group of pirates that sail the Aeserian and Rotharian seas. They're led by the pirate queen Svanhilde Skarsgard, whom you might have heard of in stories. They're an ambitious group and the most dangerous gang of pirates sailing the waters. There was another woman who took Lady Harmon by the name of Captain Reyna, most likely one of Svanhilde's minions. But the pirates made off with one of the Twin Mask's own as well, aside from Lady Harmon. I am launching a rescue party to go get them where ever Captain Reyna is keeping them. They wouldn't hold them at their headquarters, rather a safe house of sorts." Damian nodded along as she spoke, curling his fingers tighter with every word. "I see... How utterly reprehensible. However... it seems that we share a common interest. I don't doubt you have some idea of where they're headed, then?" "I have a place in mind indeed," she said with a clenched jaw. "They won't run away like cowards in such disrespect without suffering consequences. I'm sure you might have heard the announcement I made to the crew about our meeting. You're more than welcome to attend if you wish to accompany me. I will be going regardless if anyone steps up to join me or not." The man smiled at that. "Though this should lie under the jurisdiction of the Avareuxian guard... I doubt I could stop you if I wanted to, ma'am. It would be my honor to join you." "That you couldn't, sir," Karia agreed with steel in her eyes. "That you couldn't." ~ ~ ~ Karia strode into her quarters and peeled off her bloodied chain-mail and leather, tossing them onto the floor roughly. She checked the wrappings of her flesh wounds, making sure they were clean before she donned fresh chain-mail and leather attire, this set in colors of dark brown and red. In front of the window sat the Triumvirate's personal messenger falcon for when they needed to keep in contact. She walked over to the bird of prey and stroked him fondly over the head for a spare moment, something she always did before departing on a mission. It gave her a little renewed strength. Shouldering her warspear in its place across her back once more, she moved quickly to the front of her dresser, ignoring the rack of swords and crossbows on the wall beside her bed, and violently pulled open the bottom drawers where various daggers and pistols rested on top of red velvet. She proceeded to start fastening on brown leg straps and leather bracers with buckle straps when she felt a presence at her room's threshold. In her haste into the room she hadn't even bothered to close the door, and there stood Ruezann and Navitia. The other woman had her arms crossed and gazed intently at her. "You'll be leading them, then." Karia slipped long daggers into each of her tall boots. "I already voiced the announcement of a meeting on the deck for any able-bodied member to attend. I'll be taking whoever volunteers to go with me. I only need a few men, and even if it were only one or two other brave souls besides myself, I'd still be going." "Then you also heard that Alex is missing," Ruezann said. "I heard it," she said while holstering pistols into her leg straps. "They'll swiftly pay if they dared to touch her wrong, and even so." "Karia, we also heard news that the Corvailian ship bearing the future Emperor, Prince Cecilius Falbrecht, crashed and took him down with her." She flicked a glance at Ruezann, sliding a short stileto into the inside straps of each bracer. "Rotharian political drama is the least of my worries at the moment." Even if you're not Rotharian, it may still matter for all of us one day. Karia pushed that thought inside her head away and didn't respond to Ruezann's silence as she tested the weapons in their straps and sighed. Her mind was in the place it went when she was gearing up for a blood bath and war tactics, not in a place for sympathy and future plans. "Those were cold words for me to say. May the good Prince rest in peace." Once she was satisfied her weapons were secure, she turned to look at the two she shared leadership roles with, one a friend before the Twin Mask's beginnings and the other a friendship that had been forged after. "When I return with Lady Harmon and Alex, it may end up being something to wonder about." Karia stalked past Navitia and Ruezann down the hall, not giving them a second look over her shoulder when she pushed open the doors leading out onto the main deck. Quite a few people were there waiting, some slightly injured like her, although seemingly able to hold up well enough. Wasting no time, Karia bounded up on the deck and jumped onto the wooden railing along the ship's wheel so she could see everyone. "Crew and fellow brethren of the Twin Mask! You've been summoned here in response to the attack we suffered during our sixth anniversary performance." The crowd quieted down when she spoke, all watching her as she paced along the wooden beam that supported her weight. Her voice carried over the light wind, the power behind it commanding and stern. "As most of you may know, one of our own, our young Alex, was taken prisoner with Lady Harmon. This action, stealing our friends, won't be tolerated by us, will it? The Seareavers are formidable enemies, but we will have to counteract their cunning and strength with our own! Our very good name we've worked hard to carve across Rotharia is at stake. Rather than boast of our outstanding acts, people will begin to whisper that we allowed the future Duchess to be kidnapped. No, we must strike at them before they cause our ladies harm." She stopped in the center of the beam, motioning with her hand to Damian off to the side. "We have an idea of where they might be hiding Lady Harmon and Alex, and I am going to go get them. Any of you willing are welcome to join me for this rescue. Damian Faust here was escorting the Duchess-To-Be and has volunteered to come." Reaching down into her boot, she pulled out an elegant silver dagger with intricate patterns, carved with the Twin mask's symbol and her name. "Upon joining the Twin Mask, each of us is given our own personalized dagger." She cocked her arm back and threw the dagger at the front of the crowd, making it stick straight into the floor planks at their feet. "If you wish to come with me, land your dagger beside mine, if you own one. Those who don't, just step forward." Karia leapt from the railing and landed in a crouch before them, standing up to her full height and spreading her arms out. "What say any of you?" |
| “Solitude has soft, silky hands, but with strong fingers it grasps the heart and makes it ache with sorrow.” | |
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| Hades | Nov 27 2013, 06:36 PM Post #35 |
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Stagehand
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Opening her eyes to see herself backstage, Felicia begins to sit up, moving a hand toward one of her injuries. A quick glance around indicates that all the commotion's been long over, and has her noticing that most of the Ensemble from the performance were here, as well as a few guards and civilians. After getting up and starting to walk around backstage she begun overhearing a few rather interesting conversations. Three, to be specific, regarding the Prince, the Duchess, and Alex. None of them carried good news. Looks like everything's on the up-and-up, the captain thought to herself, though there wasn't anything funny coming from the conclusions she was drawing, especially about Alex. In fact, that very person and the implications of her absence are a major part of why she was currently leaving for the Rose, alongside Karia. Through the shaken streets of Avareux the crimson captain hurried with the head of Ensemble security at her side, weaving through crowds of the confused, the angry, and the grief-stricken. She overhears the shouts of various guards, attempting to keep order amidst the chaos of the show's aftermath. A few thoughts went through her mind as she walked, mostly stemming from what she had learned had happened after being wounded. Her strategy to play dead didn't exactly work out, considering she had evidently lost consciousness before the chance to get back up and continue fighting had arrived. Though once Felicia and her traveling companion got to talking, her internal musings about the most recent events were put on hold for a time. It kept her not only from her own thoughts, but from having to move through the city with naught but a silent companion and her aforementioned musings to keep her company and the cries of broken families for ambiance, which is why she was less than thrilled once she realized she had to make the rest of the trip on her own once Karia was stopped by someone midway through their trip. She steeled herself and kept walking, picking up the pace now that no one else was with her. Upon arriving at the ship, the woman made straight line for her first mate, Tuomas. "Karia wants us all on the deck, gather the crew and bring 'em up here." "Time for a board meeting, then?" The crewman snarked with a small grin. "Whatever you want to call it, as long as you feel good doing it, Tuomas," she replied quickly before heading below deck, to the cabins. Taking a lantern off the wall, Felicia strode through the dark hallway, checking two specific rooms, her own, and Alex's. The captain made a specific effort to check any spots where the girl would be able to hide, such as under a bed or in an emptied-out storage unit. Nothing. A swear under the breath is all that remained of her as she went farther down, into the cargo hold. Fastening the lantern to her belt, Felicia started climbing over boxes and barrels, looking for any hiding spots the girl might be using. Maybe she's just hiding, she reasoned, giving us all a good scare before making herself known. She continued repeating this in her head as she searched, more and more of the cargo hold began looking the same and she realized she had started to re-check where she had looked previously. The only other place she may have gone to was the Froth, and even then, that was a shaky chance in her mind. There was no other reason for the girl's absence, and standing there in the hold the possibility that she'd been taken by their attackers was becoming less of a possibility and more of a fact. Well, at least there wasn't a reason to argue with herself, anymore. Karia was halfway done with her speech by the time Felicia got back to the upper deck, but she worked her way into the crowd regardless. She already knew she'd be signing up, she just had to figure out how. Of course, once she did, her dagger left it's place in her boot and found it's new home buried in the floorboards of the deck, forcing past her dismay at the marks it would leave. |
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| Samus | Nov 27 2013, 08:15 PM Post #36 |
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The Guardian
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When Samus had stepped aboard the Crimson Rose, men and women alike had welcomed him warmly, some he had healed, some knew he had healed their friends, but others had no idea who he was, but were welcoming all the same. It was one of the perks of being a Shepherd. People saw the robes, the staff and the symbol and knew you were here to help if they needed it. He joined the crowd that assembled to listen to Karia's announcement. Eager to show his resolve and intentions to help, Samus stepped forwards first. His staff clattered on the wooden planks beside Karia's thrown dagger. "If you need someone to patch you up, I'll come along. But if it comes to a fight," Samus hesitated. "I'll do my best."Karia nodded and Samus stepped out of the crowd to stand at the bow of the ship, leaving his staff as a symbol of the Order's assistance. He stared out to sea and started to run over the conversation with brother Martin in his mind. Martin had implored him to stay with him. "You are a Shepherd of the Order of Saint Alerion." He had said. "You cannot simply walk away from that." "I am not walking away! I'm... I'm taking a break." "There are no breaks! You have a duty, a responsibility!" Samus shook his head. "I'm not the responsible type." He put a hand on Martin's shoulder. "I'm not quitting the order. I am still a Shepherd. I'm just asking you give me a chance to do something more here. The Duchess might be hurt, this Alex might be hurt. What if the Ensemble get there and they're hurt, bad. They can rescue them, but what if they can't save them?" Martin had stared at Samus. "I can save them." The young man said. "You are still a Shepherd?" "I am. I will return, and I will come with you. But for now, these people need me." Martin had quoted something about a sheep and it's shepherd, and nodded. "Go. Look after these people as Saint Alerion would." Samus breathed deeply as he prepared himself for what was to come. A part of him was excited, eager to get to the action. He wondered if that was his father's blood running through his veins. However, Samus knew that the moment Brother Martin had mentioned duty, he feared his time with the Order was coming to a close. His father fought for duty, for nothing else. Samus would not become him. In the Order, or out of it. Knowing that it might take time for the ensemble to gather it's rescue party, Samus stared at the waves and let his mind wander to a far darker place. |
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| Ser Falcon of the Seventh Stream | Nov 29 2013, 02:30 PM Post #37 |
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Stagehand
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The creaking of the bow fills her ears as the string is drawn back. The familiar press against her chin, the resting place upon her scar. Each movement is slight, but deliberate. Each shift of her form is a new target found, and another arrow loosened. Though, part of her IS certain that she may have had a few stray arrows, though hopefully the armored guards wouldn't have minded if they just ricocheted off of them. She'd explain given the chance as well. Though, as quick as it seemed to have started, it had died down. All of it seemingly over in an instant. She shakes her head, slowly easing the tension on that notched arrow until she was able to throw it back into the quiver. Once done, she rubs at the back of her head briefly. "No better time than any." She slips that bow over her arm as she grasps the key from the desk. She moves to the door and unlocks it, stepping out and closing it right behind her. A brief descent down the stairs, and she leaves both the key and a small handful of coin upon the innkeepers desk, the older gentleman cowering behind thanks to the sounds coming from outside. She couldn't quite blame him though. "Many thanks, and the Lady of Light keep you safe in these dark times." He offered her only a single wave, and in turn she gave him the slightest of nods. Panic had settled some in the streets, but there were still those running. She decided to take her chances out there, and stepped out. One hand grasping the hilt of her sword. The view from the vantage was always so much better than the view on the ground. At least up there, she could ignore some of the horrors that were going on. She could ignore the people that had been killed, or maimed by wayward attacks. Even a few trampled over one another. Yet down here, down on the ground? That was damn near impossible. She chews on her lip briefly as she makes her way towards the stage, pushing past the few people that were still trying to escape. Praise be to the lady though that a few of the civilians were helping one another out, but the others...? Dammit. She finally sighs as she releases the hilt of her sword, and makes her way to a nearby person that appeared to be trampled. Calling over to someone, she does her best to drag them alone to the side where further injury wouldn't be possible. |
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| Wanderlust | Nov 29 2013, 07:44 PM Post #38 |
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The Sleeping Soul
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Rillian Windermere was the first to draw the silver dagger hidden in his sleeve, and he threw it besides Karia's own without a second's hesitation. His bright blue eyes, so often wide with life and joy, were narrowed in anger and determination. Thaeran followed his lead, grabbing his own dagger from within his tunic and throwing it beside theirs, as did others: the Avetts, always ready to lend a helping hand; Tuomas Bastriel, eager as ever to prove that he had truly switch sides; Ruezann himself, who flung his dagger into the wood directly next to Karia's with precise aim. There was a grave expression on his face... on all their faces but Tuomas's, for that matter. "I'll put an arrow through every last one of their throats," Rillian said through clenched teeth. His longbow was still slung over his shoulder; looking at him, one would think they were still in the middle of a raid. Thaeran put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "They've certainly made sure to make it personal," he said, "but I still don't remember ever meeting this Captain Reyna..." "Does it matter?" Tuomas shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "A Seareaver's a Seareaver, and you've fucked with 'em on more than enough occasions for 'em to want you ruined. But for what it's worth, I don't know any Reyna either. Mayhaps she was my replacement, and she's tryin' to prove herself. Taking the daughter of the duchess of Avareux, though?" He suddenly burst into raucous laughter, causing a few to shoot him looks at the inappropriate timing. "They've never had balls this big." Ignoring him, Rillian turned his fierce gaze on Seth Lerender. He had yet to throw his own down. "Where's your dagger, Seth? If you have any backbone at all, now's the time to prove it." Thaeran shook his head. "Rillian, he's a stagehand and a costume designer, this isn't his-" "Bullshit. They took your sister, Seth, and to Avareux's noble court she's worth less than nothing. These Seareaver bastards can do whatever the hell they want to her and they know they'll face no repercussions from anyone but us. What the fuck do you think's going to happen?" _____________________________________________________________________________________ When Alexandra regained consciousness, she found herself in darkness, below deck on an unfamiliar ship that was already at sea. At first she had thought - prayed - that she was back on the Crimson Rose, that the sudden attack at their performance and her abduction had all been a nightmare that she was at last waking up from. Then the brown-toothed man that had taken her was looming over her with a lantern in his hand, and he gave her a wicked grin as she shielded her eyes from the light. "Looks like yer up. C'mon, it's time fer ya t'meet Cap'n Reyna." He reached down, grabbed a fistful of her tunic, and forced her to her feet. She tried to put up a resistance, but she was too weak and tired to do much of anything... or even think properly. "... w-what did you do to me...?" "Nothin', yet. The Cap'n insists on meetin' our toys before we play with 'em." Then he laughed, long and loud, as he dragged Alex up a set of stairs. "Ahh, wait, do y'mean the cloth I used t'knock ya out? Hah! Shahari alchemists are brilliant, aren't they?" He threw open a door, and bright torchlight and salty air suddenly rushed into her world, momentarily blinding her. She tried to cover her eyes, but he gave her shirt a yank and pulled her up onto the deck on wobbly legs, dragging her roughly towards the bow of the ship. Alex noted that there was only endless blue as far as her eyes could see -and it had been at least a few hours since the Seareaver's ship had fled Avareux. Twilight had faded into night. A woman with long hair, red and wild, was staring out across the sea towards unseen Rotharian shores. Beside her stood a second woman with cropped blonde hair and a roguish smile who watched the two of them through jade eyes gleaming with mischief. As they approached, she nudged the red-haired woman and pointed towards them. Captain Reyna turned to face them, staring down Alex with ice blue eyes. Her face was sharp and beautiful - perfection, even, if not for the wicked scar that had been carved across her face. "Who's this, then?" Her voice sounded almost bored, but her eyes scanned Alex's face curiously. "The runt I caught fleein' the square, like I-" "Yes, I heard you found yourself a toy to play with, but I wasn't aware you liked little boys. Let me see." The man grumbled under his breath and shoved Alex towards Reyna and the woman beside her. She tried to keep her eyes on the deck, but Reyna cupped a hand under her chin and forced her head up, looking into her eyes. Her chilling gaze sent a shiver up Alex's spine. "Well, no tits to speak of, and you're built like a child besides. What are you, then? Boy? Girl?" "I'm a boy," Alex said without hesitation. "And your name?" "Jack," she said. "Jack Maehov." "Maehov?" "I-It's Sakharvi. My mother's side." Reyna stared her down with the slightest hint of a smile on her lips. "Cute," she muttered, then her fingers suddenly tightened around Alex's jaw, holding her in place as Reyna's other hand quickly felt between her legs, exposing her lie in an instant. "Some advice, girl," the Seareaver captain whispered, just loud enough for the both of them to hear. "If you intend to lie to me again, make sure it's not so easy to prove bullshit, because next time you do I'll let all forty of my men on this ship fuck you in whatever way they please before we throw you into the ocean tied naked to the anchor. Do you understand?" Alex shuddered in fear and tried to worm away from her, but Reyna's grip only tightened. "Do you understand?" "Y-Yes," she managed to gasp through her pain, and Reyna immediately let go of her with a satisfied smile. "Do what you want to her, so long as she's still alive and able to speak after it," Reyna said, addressing the man who had taken her. "I'll question her later. Perhaps she has someone at home in Avareux willing to buy her back... if not, we can always sell her to Zarethi slavers in Al-Shahar. They'll pay good coin for a Rotharian bitch, especially one her age." She turned her back to them then, looking back across the Isirian Sea. Alex didn't think, she only reacted. Death was preferable to whatever fate these people had in mind for her. Within seconds she had drawn the silver dagger - her Ensemble dagger, the one Karia Morsenia had given to her so many years ago - that had been hidden in the folds of her sleeve, and rushed towards Reyna madly, intending to bury the blade in the woman's black heart. The blonde-haired woman at Reyna's side deftly caught her arm mid-thrust, and twisted painfully. Alex cried out and stumbled to her knees as the dagger flew out of her grasp, and Reyna spun back around, fury in her cold blue eyes. "You didn't fucking search her after you took her?" Reyna demanded of her abductor, but before he could say a word the captain's icy gaze was back down upon Alex. "And what did you actually think was going to happen? That you'd kill me, and... then what? Hold the entire crew at knifepoint? Rescue Priscilla, sail this ship back to Rotharia yourself, and be hailed a hero? This isn't some penny dreadful where the protagonist survives on wit and luck, girl. There's no happy ending for you, not after that." "My lady," the blonde woman said, "look." She picked up Alex's dagger from where it had fallen on the deck, regarding the intricate design and elegant patterns etched into the blade with a curious gleam in her eyes, then showed it to her captain. Reyna scowled at her. "So she stole a pretty blade somewhere. What of it?" "Every full-fledged member of the Twin Mask Ensemble are given one of these. She's under their protection." In an instant, Alex was suddenly forgotten. Reyna's eyes went wide with fury, and she drew the flintlock pistol holstered at her thigh and aimed it at the man who had brought Alex onto the ship. "Were you aware of this? I specifically said to take none of the Twin Mask prisoner - did you disobey a direct order in order to get your cock wet? Do you have any idea how much you may have fucked us? We had a deal!" "N-No, m'lady, of course not, I had no-" he started to stutter, but Alex immediately shouted over him. "Liar! He was at the performance - he saw me there and he chased me down when I tried to escape!" She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew to leap at an opportunity when it presented itself. The man stared at her, his eyes filled with fear. "What? No, C-Cap'n, that's not-" Reyna pulled the trigger. There was a near-deafening bang directly above Alex, and then the man collapsed backwards onto the deck, clutching at his throat and gurgling as his lifeblood seeped out from where the bullet had shot clean through. Reyna grit her teeth and stared back down at Alex. "You've bought yourself another day of life, girl," she growled, "but don't think you're free yet. Castilla, lock this one up with the Harmon wench. Only you, the priestess, and myself are permitted to enter their room under any circumstances. This one is under your protection now." The blonde-haired woman - Castilla - nodded her head, and pulled Alex, shaking with fear, onto her feet, leading her away from the deck. She stared, eyes wide with horror, as the man who had died at her word's death throes finally ceded. "And throw this one overboard once his belongings have been divvied up," Reyna added, and the dead man's former crewmates were suddenly upon him like vultures. Reyna ignored them as she turned back towards the sea. "I need to think of a way to salvage this mess he put us in." |
| A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one. | |
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| Archbass | Nov 29 2013, 09:12 PM Post #39 |
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The Architect
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If you have any backbone at all, now is your time to prove it. Seth wanted to make up excuses. He was shaking still. The idea that the Seareavers were doing anything to Alex floated through the back of his mind obsessively. He stared back at Rillian. Thaeran's protests blurred in his ears, and Rillian's counterpoint was completely quiet. The entire time, he had thought the dagger was simply a gift, the kind of thing to mount on the wall. The perfect excuse presented itself. "I left it...on top of my fireplace." It was mounted above his fireplace in a glass case. He thought about using it whenever the rare case came up when Navitia wanted a costume designed with streamers, or anything else that needed curling. He gulped. If he had to fight, it'd have to be now. For Alex. Maybe for Ellisen too, but he doubted it. Definitely not Ornstein. "...but I... I'm in!" he croaked. "Better be." Fuck, fuck, fuck, not Fraye again. She laughed. "Stagehand er not, you aughta be good with yer hands in this situation." She planted her dagger--no, three of them, into the table. She chuckled, and leaned back against the wall. "That's me and the boys in too, you get it?" Seth gulped again. He just knew he wasn't getting away from this unscathed--and that this wasn't going to be a smooth rescue at all. |
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| Deleted User | Nov 30 2013, 02:14 AM Post #40 |
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Deleted User
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Silversteel waited for the majority of the excitement had died down, watching the men and women become empowered by the speech and emboldened by the slight against them. He waited with folded arms, counting the daggers as they hit the deck one by one; taking note of who would be going on the rescue. Finally the daggers came to a crawl and eventually the last hit the deck. Silversteel had always been close to the girl, always called her a friend and been called one in return, now he could feel many eyes on him, waiting, watching and wondering why he had not made a move, why his dagger was still sheathed. He heard some whispers behind him, a few grumbles of 'fair weather friends' He gave a soft scoff behind his mask, slipping his ceremonial dagger out of it's home within his sleeve, sheathed there in case of emergencies. The swordsman cleared the distance to the pile of daggers in two quick strides, making sure his dagger was the very last to enter the pile. It clanged to the heap of metal as he lazily dropped it in to the twisting visual noise of the oathbound blades. Turning, he scanned the crowd from behind the visor of his mask. "Is that it then? Is there anyone else? Noone to add their daggers to the pile?" He waited for three beats, scanning the crowd. "Good, now I have a clear indication of who among you have courage enough to stand up for those you profess to care for. Your friends and family." Silversteel scanned the audience for those who had not acted, "That is what it is to be part of the Twin Mask, no? To be part of a family? To belong? Well, a member of our family is in trouble, now. Taken by those who would mean her, us and all we care for harm. To those of you who know the meaning of family, I thank you for adding your daggers to the pile, for stepping forward for one of our own. I salute you, one and all. To the rest of you? I hope your excuse comforts you and makes you feel well, because I care not for it. Only if you are too young or too old to hold a blade and fight will I excuse your absence. The rest of you? I advise you get to work to busy your hands, so best to ignore the blood of your brothers and sisters who you would forsake so readily." Silversteel turned on his heel to face away from the audience and gave Karia a low, respectful bow, "Milady, guide my hand to bring back our lost sister and the wayward Duchess to be, my blade is at your command." |
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3:18 PM Jul 10