Open Chronicles Daring or Foolishness

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria sneered up at the castle that sat high above the town of Insprith as the sun began to set. Slowly her eyes had adjusted more to the bright lights of the surface and rumors and stories had finally drawn her to this place. Castle Van Moolehem had been the home of Baron Esther Van Moolehem for more years than anyone could remember, her life unnaturally long and her beauty never fading.

Nor the terror that she inflicted on those around her. The people of Insprith lived in constant fear, never sure if their lady or her devilries may descend to carry off some of their people for dark means.

It was the Castle that had drawn Zathria here for the rumors of powerful magical artifacts that were inside. It was not uncommon for people from around the Wilds to travel here, testing their luck and mettle against the dangers of the castle, but few managed to return.

Zathria wasn't an inexperienced young explorer, though. She had been through campaigns of war and would not be deterred.

She turned off the main road, sliding from her horse and throwing the reigns over the bar outside the tavern. It would be her first stop to gather information and to see if any others had come here for a raid on Castle Van Moolehem.

The tavern itself was quiet, smoke hanging in the air and the first groups of people beginning to shuffle in for the night, gathering together for food and drink. She kept her eyes out for any who might look the capable sort or anyone else who looked like they were here for the same purpose as her.

 

[Veshli Xor]

Like many towns near great evil, Insprith's people tended to be gruff and tense. Somehow, it seemed a universal rule too that such towns should have great ale. A redeeming factor to be sure. Hence why Veshli Xor found herself in the Fool's Judgement tavern.

Veshli turned her hooded head, peering through a shaggy shroud of her own hair and the smoke to see a traveller enter. Even in this din, she caught her white hair and stone-grey skin.

For a minute, she thought she saw an Aerai. But the prowling stride and glint of red eyes sealed it. A dark elf.

Well, now, this was a development. Veshli curled her finger below the table, drawing upon her power. Orange, bonfire dots formed a constellation of a shape -- long and angular -- before lines connected them. With a faint whoosh below the din of the tavern, a blade of dark steel materialised between these lines, filling out the space drawn out by the magic.

Veshli's hand curled around this conjured blade's pommel, staring ahead at the drow, unabashed and mildly challenging; one eye of dull silver visible below hood and hair.

Spoiler: Veshli

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria's attention was drawn to a person who intentionally made herself known, perhaps in challenge or perhaps in a greeting of one hardened traveller to another. It left Zathria with skepticism, but she decided it was worth investigating.

Clearly, the woman knew how to use magic and she had a weapon of her own, the look in her eyes spoke of someone who was accustomed to the harder side of life, and that meant she was a better option than many who were in the tavern.

Still, Zathria was not one for trust in almost any capacity and certainly not with strangers. She'd seen far too many betrayals and ambushes to ever allow herself such luxury as assuming good intentions, and on the surface, Drow were looked at with enough skepticism as it was.

"Evidently you wanted my attention. Looking to stick a knife in my gut?" she asked, every the blunt and direct type in a confrontation. Although her swords remained in their sheathes, she stood with a mixture of the grace of a panther and the coiled preparation of a snake that could strike at any moment. Already her mind traced through the speed with which she could bring her knife near her right hand around and the speed she could cast a small spell with her left should the woman's intentions be ill.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

"Not yet."

The voice that emerged from the hood was raspier than her youthful features would lead one to expect. Her throat croaked like it was near constricted by an excess in tobacco, spirits or scars from screaming; perhaps all three mingled together. She remained seated and unmoving, but a bold smile materialised gradually from her mouth like her sword had barged into existence before.

"Hope you don't gimme bloody cause to, though. What's a drow doing here? Shouldn't you -- I dunno -- be eating shrooms in some cave or summin?"

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria scowled at the woman, trying work out if this was a proper threat she was leveling or just trying to posture. Though she did say she wasn't trying to knife her.

"You sound like you've smoked too many shrooms," Zathria retorted with a snort. One of her feet went up to rest on the rung of a stool next to the woman as she watched her.

"I could ask you the same thing. What brings you out to this place? Same thing that brings everyone out here, isn't it? The Castle," she said the last words in a hushed tone. She wasn't superstitious, but she knew the power that certain names could have and didn't risk some strange scrying spell triggered if she said the target's name aloud. Old habits kept you alive.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

Veshli stared at the drow sitting down beside her; eyes looking fit to make good on her veiled threat.

Then, like a crossbow firing without a bolt, Veshli's hardened features snapped loose, erupting into a mighty guffaw, slapping her own knee for added effect.

"You're right, I probably did! Ah-ha-ha!"

Her laughter died out with the more serious question, wiping an unshed tear of joy from the corner of her eye, settling down with a long, content sigh.

"Ahhh. Well, aye, castle drew me in. Like moths to a damn bonfire, eh? Heh. That's it, I'm looking to get an, ah, *audience* with the baroness of the castle . . . baroness, ehh, Esther-- something, something--"

Veshli twirled her hand, fishing for a name she had already forgotten.

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria wondered if this woman was nuts or if this was all an act of sorts. She had a feeling that it would reveal itself in time, but she was a potential ally - or trap bait - in the endeavor to come.

Zathria's face didn't quite shift although she relaxed ever-so-slightly, her posture loosening even as her eyes still watched and studied, trying to determine what she could about this woman. Magic, weapons, dirty, looked like she'd been on the road for ages. A sellsword maybe?

"An audience? Looking to get a job from her?" she asked. Despite the reputation for abuse and violence, there were certainly those out there who would try to ally or work for such a person in exchange for power. Even Zathria wouldn't put an alliance out of the question if it fell that way.

 

[Veshli Xor]

"More of-- eh, how can I put this . . ." She scratched her cheek, mulling it over, before something sharp entered her eye; and something even sharper parted her mouth in a vicious grin. "Let's say she is the job. How about that?"

The rabid grin remained, searching Zathria for her intent. She threw the dice then; consequences be damned. Whether this one was friend or foe, better to get it sorted now rather than later.

"Ah, sod it. I'm here to end her reign. How about youse? I don't imagine you carry those arms around to impress a herald."

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria listened as the woman talked about killing the vampire and she couldn't say she was too surprised. Most who came here were looking to bring down the monster but not all. For Zathria's part... she wasn't sure yet.

A vampire who held onto a town like this for years was a potentially powerful ally, but Zathria had heard rumors of powerful artifacts that the lady had collected over the years. The kind of artifacts that could come in very useful when the time came to take back and hold Zar'ahal.

She has something I want, she said, I aim to find it and if that means that the "Baroness" has to be ended, then so be it, she said.

It sounds like our goals might be aligned, then, she said.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

"Well pinch me in the cheeks and call me a donkey's auntie. It looks like they just might." Her grin muted into a lopsided smirk, but her visible eye remained pinpointed and sharp, the other shrouded by silvery hair. "Whatcha looking to nab?"

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria wasn't sure what she should tell the other woman about what she was looking for, but in the end, it was better to lay claim to it now than later.

She has a number of magical artifacts: jewelry, she said. The truth was, she didn't know all of the details of what they could do, but they were rumored to be powerful and capable of launching numerous spells of significant danger.

Have you already scouted the castle? If not, there's no time like the present, she said. It was no small thing to break into a place like that and rumor had it that the baroness had many underlings of her own. Their work would be cut out for them.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

Veshli blew hair out of her face, but it didn't help much; other than communicate her blazé attitude.

"Yeh, I took a gander. Big old castle with big old walls. Hard to climb, but not impossible. Sum locals gabbing about a secret entrance in the moat too, leading up to some well. I dunno, I'm tempted to make for the gate and see what happens. Might be able to simply get in, if we look interesting enough."

She sized up Zathria, again wondering how a lone drow found her way here. But such questions didn't concern her. She had a job to do, and that was it.

"Well, you might catch her interest. Doubt they'll be interested in some half-breed like meself, but eh, you never know, do you?"

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

An entry in a moat? Sounds like a trap, she muttered, but it was worth a shot. She took a swig out of her waterskin and passed it across to the barman to be filled along with a copper.

Worth a shot, she said as she took the filled water back.

No time like the present. We'll go poking around inside and see what we find, she said, moving toward the exit without fully turning her back on the other woman, checking to see if she was coming and then heading out into the dusk air.

We can tie a rope down into the moat in case this doesn't pan out, she said.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

Veshli drew a long, nasal inhalation and pushed her chair back. She followed Zathria outside, dark-brown cloak billowing after her, thumbs hooked in her belt like she was taking a casual stroll, and not about to invade the premises of an unholy creature.

"Gate then? Aye, if we can walk in the front door, why not?" A weird smile bloomed on her features, eye sparkling with mischief, glancing at Zathria. She liked this one made no fuss about it. It spoke of confidence in her abilities. Only . . . she didn't exactly know what she was looking for, or for what purpose.

"Any particular items you looking to snatch, then? Just for yourself? Or there some special drow fellah waiting for you down there, in the Underrealm?"

The town gave way for broader streets and plazas as they approached the outskirts of the castle.

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria made it the edge of the moat and looked down, eyes scanning over the area even as she looked at the imposing castle beyond. A massive, towering structure with gargoyles and imposing ramparts lining every part of it.

She tied off a section of rope to a metallic grate drain attached to the moat.

It's not like I've gotten a tour of the artifacts, she snorted as the woman asked if there was something in particular that the Drow was looking for. She motioned for the other woman to descend the rope before following, finding the door in question shortly thereafter. It was hidden behind scrap and dirt, buried like a trap door.

I could use a leg up for myself, though, in some of my upcoming activities. Why did you decide to risk life and limb to kill a vampire? she asked as she wedged the door open and hoisted it up with difficulty.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

Veshli scoffed in response; her hands wrapped around the rope, lowering herself to Zathria and the hidden door.

"Not like I have a bloody choice in the matter." Perhaps more bile spewed out in her voice than intended, but at this point, she hardly cared. "My, uh, superiors sent me. A holy cleansing, they'd call it."

Magic motes sparkled between her hands, forming the outline of a long, angular shape. A staff of the strange, black material, angry orange veins penetrating its steel, materialised between her hands. She used this as simple leverage, forcing the door open.

The staff vanished in a spray of cinders, like stomping out a bonfire. Slipping down into the tunnel, they had to nearly crouch to travel through. As they burrowed through its damp interior, Veshli asked:

"You following orders yourself or on your own?" A hint of longing drifted off her words at on your own. She could only imagine such freedom to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Your superiors? A religious cleansing? she asked. It begged the question of exactly who this one was working for. A "holy cleansing" sounded like some crazies to her.

They sound like the type that might choke on their own tongues if they found out you were backing a Drow, she said. All the more reason she needed to stay on alert with this woman.

It was almost an answer to an unasked question when she heard the wistful note in the tone of her voice as she asked about Zathria being here on her own.

I'm here on my own, she said, pausing and flicking a look over at the other woman. For a moment, there was a piercing gaze as if maybe Zathria was seeing the woman for the first time since all of this had started.

You don't seem very thrilled about taking orders. Ever think about moving to a different situation? she asked.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

Veshli let out a long, drawn-out sigh. If only it was that easy. Calling them superiors might have been a bit of an understatement. Forgive me, Nykios, Astra and the rest of you lot.

"Hah! If only I could. If only I could . . ."

She let the matter drop there. Zathria was right; the Archpriestess would probably drop dead if she knew who Veshli was working with here. Oh, well. Ignorance was bliss. It would take too much explaining either way -- too much to explain to this drow why she had to do this, and too much to explain to them why she had to do it with a drow.

Ignorance was bliss.

"Oy, what's this? I spy a light."

There was, in fact, a sliver of torchlight spilling down from the end of the corridor. Veshli hoped that would serve as distraction enough to change the subject.

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria looked at the woman and frowned, deciding it was the optimal moment to pry a little deeper! Everyone loved prying questions. Zathria certainly enjoyed prying into others!

What, you're a slave? Bound by oath? she asked, curious what this story was now. Sure, they were here for a job, but Zathria wanted answers!

The lights down the hall drew her attention but oh this wasn't over. Inquiring minds wanted to know. Still, Zathria recognized the danger they were facing and pulled to a stop. Down the hall and around the corner she heard barking like riled up dogs although more twisted and not quite... normal. As if maybe something had been done to these dogs. That they weren't what they had once been anymore.

Do you hear that? It doesn't sound normal. Hunting dogs maybe or something else. She's rumored to be involved in dark sciences, she said, wondering if this was some mutated hound or werecreature.

Veshli Xor

 

[Veshli Xor]

Veshli's face grimaced, thick lips skewing aside, all while one cheek twitched upward in dismayed anticipation.

Dogs. Of course it had to be dogs. She hated dogs. Hated cats too, but usually, they minded their own business.

"Aye, I hear it. Damn beasts sound riled up all right."

The air curled and spasmed between her hands, before spawning glittering, orange dots like tiny stars, conneted by glowing lines; a whoosh of energy soon filled the empty space, shaping steel between those lines. A long glaive of strange, black steel manifested, throbbing with orange veins of light, like tiny fractures.

This weapon she preferred when she wanted to keep her distance.

Creeping to the end of the tunnel, a shoddy stairway awaited them, leading up to a trapdoor. The light spilled through its askew planks. The floor thudded with paws and rattled with chains, the wild snaps and barks above mingling with shouting.

Zathria At'Arel

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria pushed forward and watched as Veshli conjured up a larger weapon, its surface glowing with a magical steel. She didn't know what they were walking into but she didn't want to fight dogs in close quarters. They could be nearly suicidal in their desire to kill, mangle, or destroy if they were trained into a frenzy, and she had no doubt that they were going to be trained in madness and near rabidity by its owner.

She kept one sword in hand and a free hand with her other, prepared to throw a spell to keep herself safe or cut down the creatures ahead if need be.

She looked up to the trapdoor above with a stoney face.

Crap, she muttered quietly and unexpectedly.

A trapdoor with a ladder is super hard to fight up, she said. It meant no maneuverability, a hand down, and little chance to actually push in and take the top with only two people. Siege ladders had archer and mage cover and dozens of people scrambling up at dozens of points. They had none of those advantages here, but they did have the element of surprise.

Okay, she muttered, looking to the weapon that Veshli had just summoned.

Can you push the hatch open with that glaive? I can put a flame spell up there and we can scramble up the rest of the way, she suggested, though there was an argument that they should simply try to sneak up and pop out before they were noticed.

Above, there were a half dozen dogs almost fighting over the food that had been brought by their two trainers: raw meat that the hounds devoured, still thoroughly distracting them from the approach of the pair below and the trainers were too preoccupied with keeping the feed going to notice the trap door creep open.

Darkweaver

 

[Biff Noomron]

The air in the grand courtyard of Castle Van Moolehem was usually filled with the scent of pine and privilege, but today it was dominated by the pungent, acidic stench of swamp rot. Biff Noomron stood beside a massive iron-bound wagon, his thick, scarred scales glistening under the midday sun.

"I tell you, Baron Esther," Biff grunted, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate his blue top hat. He patted the side of the wagon, which shuddered as something slammed against the interior. "A castle this size is a marvel, truly. But stone walls are just a challenge to an assassin. These? These are a deterrent."

With a heavy grunt, Biff hauled back a thick leather tarp. Inside the reinforced cage, three Bile Lizards hissed in unison, their translucent green throat-sacs hidden behind dark scales pulsing with corrosive fluid. They were ugly, dripping with a lime-colored ichor that hissed when it hit the straw-covered floor, but their amber eyes were sharp and predatory.

Spoiler: Bile Lizards

"Captured 'em myself in the Gnarled Sinks," Biff continued, wiping a smudge of swamp grime from his orange-trimmed cuff. He leaned in closer to the Baron, ignoring the nervous shuffling of the castle guards.

"They don't sleep, they don't take bribes, and they can melt a lockpick and the hand holding it in four seconds flat. For a woman of your... stature and many enemies, Baron, they aren't just pets. They're an insurance policy with teeth." He tipped his hat, a blue feather bobbing as he waited for the Baron to weigh the cost of the coin against the safety of her throat.

Zathria At'Arel Darkweaver

 

[Veshli Xor]

"So long as they don't bite the hand that feeds them," Lady Esther said with a sharp sneer. "I don't need my staff disappearing as well as any intruders. What checks and measures do you offer for your, ah, pets?"

---
Meanwhile

"How much fire you got? Can ye blow them all to smithereens if I pry this open? Might save us a lotta trouble."

She had seen fireballs in action before. Mages pointing at a room beyond and causing it to explode in fiery devastation. She knew how this worked. Point, blabber some words and watch the fireworks.

Not one to hang around waiting, Veshli already planted the tip of her glaive on the trapdoor, creaking it open. The animal snarls intensfied as the muffling barrier lifted.

Zathria At'Arel
Biff Noomron

 

[Zathria At'Arel]

Zathria looked over at the other woman, shrugging noncomitally at the question.

Can't promise it'll ignite them all, but it should throw them into some chaos, she said, putting her hands together as she waited for the other woman to open the hatch.

The moment it opened, she unleashed the ball of flame formed up between her two hands. It struck the ceiling above and further into the room, a whoosh of flame igniting the air and catching aflame one of the hounds and one of the guards as the others charged away from the threat.

Zathria scrambled up quickly in hopes of taking them before anyone could recover, swords whipping free from her sheathe as she sliced at both a hound and soldier at the same time.

Veshli Xor Biff Noomron

 

[Biff Noomron]

Biff let out a dry, rattling chuckle that sounded like stones grinding together. He reached into a hidden pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a small, perforated silver sphere, no larger than a plum.

"A fair point, Baron. I’ve always found that the only thing worse than an assassin in the halls is a security system that eats the butler, but worry not I come with a prepackaged solution" Biff said, tossing the sphere lightly in the air and catching it. As he stepped toward the iron-bound wagon, the tip of his tail twitched, brushing against the stone tiles with a dry scritch-scratch.

The Bile Lizards, previously snapping at the iron bars with rhythmic ferocity, suddenly recoiled.

"These beauties possess a sense of smell that can track a drop of sweat through a rainstorm," Biff explained, his clawed thumb clicking the latch on the silver orb to release a concentrated puff of fine, amber powder. "But they have a particular weakness in the form of concentrated Star-Anise and Clove."

Biff reached his other hand the one without the spice near the bars. A lizard lunged, its translucent throat-sac ballooning with lime-colored fluid. Just as the creature's jaws snapped, Biff casually waved the spiced sphere in a slow, graceful arc.

The effect was instantaneous. The lizard's amber eyes rolled back, its head lolling to the side as it hissed a confused, airy sound. It slunk to the back of the cage, rubbing its snout against the wood as if trying to scrub away a bright light.

"Every servant, guard, and handmaiden carries one of these tucked into their belt and they will leave them alone," Biff continued, his voice dropping to a low hum. He extended the hand holding the sphere toward the Baron. As she reached for it, his claws retracted slightly into their sheaths a subtle sign of respect, or perhaps just a predator acknowledging a peer.

Veshli Xor Zathria At'Arel