Dreadlords A Bid for Power

[Zinnia]

Now Zinnia was red as a tomato as well. She appreciated the commendation, but everything that came after was just too much. Silas' insinuation that he would have might have actually short circuited Zinnia's brain if she'd had the mind to afford any conscious attention to it.
"Wha--no, I d-didn't mean--! I mean, n-not specifically or--oh gods, just f-forget I said anything, please!"

Zinnia pulled down on her hood, pressed her palms to her cheeks, shook her head, and reset. Back to business! They were here to stop a murderer, not discuss the maybes of fraternization.

"Bait!" She suddenly exclaimed, trying her best to move on and ignore the embarrassment of twelve seconds ago. "H-how about bait? If we c-could lure our c-culprit out into t-the open that would make things m-much easier."

 

[Drederick]

As the night crept over the Falwood and into the village, the sounds of the streets became quieter and the sounds of the tavern grew greater. As the sun drew down beneath the horizon, moonlight reached down past sparse cloud cover, replacing the bright yellows of the day with a pale night.

Torch-fire crackled somewhere down the street.

Footsteps on cobblestone approached from the dark.

"And what about you do you think so enticing," the question came in the midst of a suddenly acute quiet, as though the sounds behind the tavern walls were further muted by some unseen force, if only for a moment, "you think a sorcerer of this sort is so inclined to approach those of your like? Surely you must understand they know they are hunted..."

As he came near the light cast down from the tavern's porch and the other torches nearby his image began to take shape. He was tall, and shrouded beneath a dark cloak with a hood that hung low. The sound of armor and possibly weaponry clinked as he came nearer, though it was quiet until he'd drawn closer and difficult to see through the blackness of his figure.

A clenched hand raised up as he came close, revealing a black, ghastly gauntlet, and a similar vambrace which bore the familiar insignia of a Dreadlord, though it was weathered and faded. And it was more akin to the crest of the old Dreadlords, before the revolution.

As he approached, his eyes - which almost seemed to bear an unnatural yellow glow - studied each of them and he said, "little more than a rabble of initiates. Perhaps they would take an interest..."

---

Zinnia | Silas Artesto | Vasha Drurcius ​

 

[Silas Artesto]

There was a rather... uncomfortable silence after Zinn had tried to correct herself and pleaded that they forget anything had been said at all. Well, the class had certainly learned and abundance of new information, though not all of it in relation to the mission. If it wouldn't pointlessly drag out the awkward engagement, Silas would take objection to Vasha's doubts of his 'stamina.' Truly, the nerve to suggest he couldn't perform under pressure was...

No, Silas reeled himself in, biting the inside of his cheek as he squinted at the girl next to him from the corner of his vision. Talk about it later, now wasn't the time at all. Besides, Zin's proposal of bait was far from a bad idea. Silas nodded. "Well, our target is going after the young, meek and vulnerable. If one of us is going to be bait, they'd have to give off that kind of vibe..." Silas was pretty sure Zinnia was actually a little taller than Vasha, but the way she tended to hunch over a little made her seem smaller.

Before Artesto could volunteer Zinnia as the obvious choice, a dark, rumbling voice spilled over his shoulders from behind, and the boy turned on his heels as quick as lightning. Either Silas hadn't realized how damned dark it was getting, or the figure with an arm raised to the sky seemed to have come from darkness itself. Either way, the words he spoke were nonsense.

Nonsense... but he knew who they were.

Protectively he outstretched one of his arms in front of Vash and narrowed his gaze. "The only think I take interest in is you telling me who the hell you think you are sneaking up on us like that?"

Sneaking was generous; If Silas had been paying attention, he would have heard this stranger's footsteps vibrating across the cobble. A rookie mistake that he'd punish himself for later.

 

[Vasha Drurcius]

Vasha whirled at the sound of another voice- though Silas was a blur next to her in the same instant as he did the same. What she would give for that reaction speed... her gaze narrowed slightly as she studied the stranger, only flicking down in surprise at Silas's movement of the arm before focusing on the figure in front of them again.

Cryptic speech. But not indecipherable. Her gaze remained hard, but otherwise impassive as her eyes trailed to the aged symbol of the Dreadlords on his arm, and then to his yellow gaze. "I' seems 'they' thook intheres' regar'less." Her tone vaguely patronizing in nature as she sized the man up, feeling a familiar itch start to crawl over her skin.

They could say Zinnia's plan worked. But it worked a little too soon.

 

[Zinnia]

Last to turn about was Zinnia. Of course, she had practically expected to be the one used as bait. The suggestion was both just that as well as a resignation to the task. What she had not expected was the sudden intrusion. Zinnia's eyes traced the man, and she was keenly aware of both his strange mannerisms as well as how off put her companions clearly were.

Zinnia was no better. Her vision narrowed upon the man's gauntlet. That crest. The proctors hadn't said anything about a Dreadlord being sent to aid in this task, or even that one would be out this far at all. She instinctively pulled a mask up from her cloak and over her nose as her glare tightened on the intruder; better safe than sorry in that regard.

After all, this man's presence practically screamed "renegade." Her right hand reached back to grip the handle of her hammer, knuckles tightening down around the metal rod.
"E-easy Silas...he's loyal." Zinnia breathed to the Artesto boy, hoping he'd catch her meaning. She carefully addressed their guest next. "Wh-what is it you w-want?"

 

[Drederick]

Drederick's laugh was as ominous and intrusive as his own very self. It was full, and filled with a rather twisted sense of amusement. And then as quickly as it had burst forth it diminished, and after a long and humoured hum and started even closer toward them. He made no motions for his weapons which revealed themselves as his cloak parted with his approach, and his arms hung passively at his sides with no obvious suspicion in them.

"The only thing I take interest in is you telling me who the hell you think you are sneaking up on us like that?"
​

"Sneaking," he questioned, his retort as sharp as the tone offered, "were your senses about you I'd have been heard long before now. Be glad there is no knife in your back, child."

The amusement in him had totally vanished, clearly offended by Silas' tone with him given the spite in his own.

His gaze then to Vasha, "it could hardly be so simple, tongue-tie. I'd have not delivered myself into your hands were I the one you sought."

A flawless lie. Without an ounce of empathy or compassion in him, mistruths were as simple as second nature to him. He paused for a moment, and his gaze lingered on her with a clear interest in her just a little more so than the others, seeming to have detected something different about her.

Then finally his eyes fell to Zinnia, the would be devil's advocate. If only she knew...

"I seek what you do, it seems," he said as his eyes passed between the three of them, "to get the bottom of the Anirian blood spilt. I am a Dreadlord, and I am power, as you three shall also one day be. We will not suffer these offenses so casually."

---

Silas Artesto | Vasha Drurcius | Zinnia ​

 

[Silas Artesto]

Yeah, he saw the Dreadlord insignia on the odd man's clothes, but Silas wasn't so blindly trusting as to put his guard down because of a symbol. This nutjob could have just as easily offed a weaker Dreadlord and stolen his outfit. This far out into Falwood it wouldn't shock him. All that he did at Zin's call was lower his arm, but every muscle in his body was still taut.

"If you are what you claim to be, you'd know damn well that nothing is that simple. If you're our ally you definitely could have picked a less suspicious entrance." Something about this guy rang Silas' alarms to a maddening degree, but... Shit, it wasn't like he could take him on his own. On the off chance he was actually a Dreadlord, he wasn't ready for a fight like that. So instead, Artesto relaxed, just a bit. "But then I guess they never taught you older ones any manners."

Dreadlord or not, Silas didn't have time for the theatrics the stranger had to offer. He seemed one of those types who liked to turn three words into fifteen whenever he got the chance. Turning his back on Drederick (or seeming to do so at least) He continued on as if the interruption had never happened. "Well, unless our tall dark friend has a way of sussing out or madman, the bait plan still holds water. What do the both of you think?"

Make a move, freakshow. I dare you.

 

[Vasha Drurcius]

Vasha tensed, her entire body prickling with unease as the stranger's gaze lingered on her. Her mind wanted to snarl and threaten him, but her body instinctively wanted to flee- and the desire grew stronger and stronger with each step he took closer to them.

He was an older Dreadlord. Maybe around the age of her father. An analytical one too, given the way he looked at them. The two men didn't act the same at all, and yet those similarities were just enough to set Vasha's instincts screaming.

As he took the last step, Vasha found her own feet moving one step backward in sync, and then froze as she realized what she was doing.

She was afraid.

Setting her jaw hard enough to feel something pop, Vasha jerked her head away and focused on Silas. "I think so as well." she replied; a rare moment when she didn't trip over her lisp.

 

[Zinnia]

Okay. The other two were at least wary, but she had hoped they would understand what she meant when she said "loyal." This man was no ally, and now she had no way of expressing that to her companions without it being blatantly obvious. Even if this man wasn't the culprit, there was no way he was up to any good. They were likely all in danger.

"I th-think..." Zinnia began, just as rigid as her allies. Her eyes swept from Silas and Vasha to the intruder. "I think it s-strange that the three of us w-were sent out here to do this and weren't t-told anything of you."

Nothing inherently offensive about pointing out the obvious. Initiates were taught caution; to question this was normal. Right?

"If y-you're here to help, then h-how exactly do you plan to do s-so?"

 

[Drederick]

In truth, the little one - Zinnia - was not entirely wrong. Drederick was indeed loyal. He was loyal to the old way of Vel Anir and the Dreadlords. He was loyal to the aspects of power that they once and always had embodied in simply being. He was loyal to the iron fist of strength that loomed over all and commanded the masses beneath the weight of superiority. His superiority. That which Vel Anir once was embodied all that he believed and was, and that had been taken. The weak had inherited the harvest of the strong, and in this he could no longer abide. His time spent in Vel Anir after their devolution had sickened him to his very soul, and it was through the means he had taken thus far and intended to continue that he would reclaim that which was great about all that was lost.

And wisely, these three initiates refused to trust him. Good, he mused. At least they weren't teaching complete ineptitude at the Academy. They were of course right to be suspicious of him, if not for the recent happenings then at the very least his simply being there. It was not as though Dreadlords of his time had not slain each other in the past. This, they likely knew.

As for Zinnia's question on how he would help... why not see how far they would go? He was after all, already another three steps ahead of them...

"There is a pattern to these killings, and each spell draws to the same goal, though they draw differently."

His eyes to Vasha and Silas, "each rune gathers and sends power, but there are many kinds of power."

---

Silas Artesto | Vasha Drurcius | Zinnia​

 

[Silas Artesto]

Silas felt his teeth gritting together in frustration, but he hid it well enough. Zinnia was right; it was strange that a Dreadlord just happened to show up unannounced all the way out here near Falwood. It didn't pass the smell test, and it bugged the hell out of him. What could he do though? It wasn't as though they could risk attacking him if he was the genuine article, could they? If he turned hostile... Well, Silas could give them some distance at least. Hopefully, it didn't come to that.

Vasha didn't seem to be handling this particularly well herself, tearing her eyes away from the stranger and focusing solely on him, her eyes suddenly fixed on his own, unwavering. Silas' face softened, the hidden emotion barely restrained in her unusually clear voice striking him. Was she...?

Without thinking much about it, Artesto raised one of his hands to rest on hers, offering the smallest of smiles. He wasn't really an expert on this kind of thing, but if he could help keep her calm, he'd absolutely do so. Staring back down at her for a moment, he lowered his hand and turned back around to face the chatty man behind them. Silas really wanted to come up with a plan, but this Dreadlord's specialty seemed to be beating around the bush.

Silas was getting sick of it, and what the strange man just said made him realize something unnervingly ominous.

And he felt his stomach drop as he spoke.

"Well, aren't you well informed? Here's food for thought. I've been to all of the rune sites, and there was only one set of footprints arriving and leaving each one."

Something was clicking, and he didn't like it one bit. He took a small step forward as if to put himself more prominently in front of the others.

"Now, I don't know you, but I do know you aren't as fast as me. So how is it you could have been to all the sites without leaving any footprints? You couldn't have been to all of them after me and then made it here so quickly, so that seems to imply you were there before me."

His teeth bit down on the inside of his cheek as he continued to connect dots in his head. "What's more, you just said you want to get to the bottom of Anirian blood being spilled. That's funny, because we're on the edge of Falwood, and the victims are all locals to this town. Most of em' come from across the border." Even before he finished his sentence he began to build up vibrations in preparation for the consequences of his words. "So either you're misinformed or trying to throw us off the scent. Seems to me like the only reason you'd do that is if you're the one doing all this."

 

[Vasha Drurcius]

Vasha watched Silas square up to the stranger with an increasing sense of dread. Her gaze remained locked on him as he moved between her and the armored man, and a subtle ache began to build in her bones- her skin itching as it started to harden and form scales.

A fight was inevitable at this rate if he got provoked, and she needed to be quick, and durable. They knew nothing about this Dreadlord's powers. Silas was playing with worse than fire right now- if it was poison gas, they could all wind up dead in a moment's notice.

Muscles thickened and hardened, small horns jutting out of her scalp, and claws emerging from her fingertips, thick scales growing around her arms and wrists as her bones thickened and grew much denser on her arms than normal, focusing her transformation there a little moreso than the rest of her body.

The whole process took around three seconds to complete, her eyes moving to Drederick now, instead of Silas as she waited to see what would happen.

 

[Zinnia]

Silas had figured it out. Sweat began to bead on Zinnia's brow as she listened to him throw his accusation in the stranger's face. Her eyes darted from Silas, to the stranger, to Vasha, and back again. Vasha was already preparing herself, subtly shifting in a fashion that was all too familiar to Zinnia. Details that she couldn't bring herself to focus on, given the circumstances.

For her part, Zinnia ignored the crawling on her own skin and slipped a hand behind her waist to grab the handle of her hammer.

"W-what was the p-point of all this, stranger?" Zinnia asked, not being so pointed or direct as Silas. They still lacked motive, even if they were confident that this man was the culprit they'd been seeking. "Where is the p-power going?"

What concerned Zinnia most is that this man had presented himself so brazenly. He was confident enough to do so. The implications that fact had were concerning, to say the least. Was he so strong that he could easily drop all three of the initiates? Zinnia swallowed hard. Perhaps they'd soon know.

 

[Drederick]

Now that is interesting.​

For a time, Silas had gained much of Drederick's attention, but his eyes did drift away for a moment. It was subtle yet... As for him, there were any number of lies Drederick could conjure to combat the initiate's accusations, and any number of ways for him to manipulate the forces of darkness through the payment of blood - his own blood - to even support his lies. He had in fact learned much during his time alone... however. The situation quickly began to change into something he did not expect.

At this point, he became far less inclined toward any lie.

"Can you feel it," he whispered, taking in a quiet breath.

He smiled.

---

Silas Artesto | Vasha Drurcius | Zinnia ​

 

[Silas Artesto]

Silas didn't want this freak's attention, he wanted him to cut the shit and do whatever it was he was going to do. The Initiate wouldn't have called him out so brazenly if he figured their new buddy had too much reason to carry on a lie any further than he needed to, and if tall dark and brooding was actually a full-fledged Dreadlord, he could presumably wipe the floor with them all either way.

So why all the obnoxious preamble?

"Zin. Vash." He whispered, praying inhuman hearing wasn't on this guy's list of powers. "I want you to grab on tight to me, and don't let go..." If they got attacked, a quick retreat was their best chance of survival. Whether or not he could haul both of them at once was up in the air, but he was willing to give it a shot.

Then he turned and saw Vasha had already shifted into her Dragon-like state and smiled.

"Good idea, it can be your turn."

Whatever was coming, it might be way out of their league, and while Silas was a cocky son of a bitch, he wasn't suicidal.

 

[Vasha Drurcius]

"Righ'." Vasha could feel something more than just the usual itch of scales on skin and ache of muscle over bone. This was the burn of the runes carved into her.

If it came to it, she wasn't going to go down without a fight. Her gaze flicked to Zinnia, waiting until her move- wanting to grab onto Silas at the same time and avoid tripping him up.

It was a good thing she wasn't all that much heavier right now than if she had fully transformed. Just a bit more durable. But without knowing what the other Dreadlord could do...it was a gamble on if she would live or die in the next few seconds, she decided.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, she exhaled, and nodded to the other student.

 

[Zinnia]

No answer from the strange Dreadlord. Until now he'd at least offered cryptic responses to their questions...she didn't like how the energy had shifted.

Zinnia looked to Silas and hesitantly acknowledged him with a nod. There was no way Silas could tow both Vasha and Zinnia...right? She gripped one hand on her hammer, then met Vasha's look. Another nod. With timing in mind, Zinnia made to grab Silas.

Here we go...