Dreadlords How Many Have to Die?[Fate]

[Erodin]

Anirian Outskirts - Orren Manor

"Rebellions." Crimson freckles speckled Erodin's face as he stood above the Lady Orren, the blade in his hand steadily dripping blood upon the rich carpets of the ostentatious estate he found himself in. "In my experience, at least."

The Dreadlord said as he slowly crouched down, the seeping sword slowly shifting as he reached out and grasped the end of the noblewoman's dress. His fingers wrapping around the silk finery before slowly drawing it over the length of his blade. His eyes never leaving hers as she slowly cleaned the blood of her guests from his weapon. "Need secrecy."

A smile pulled upon his lips as he slowly began to stand, the black steel of his sword flickering slightly in the lamplight of the grand ballroom.

Dozens, upon dozens of corpses lay around them. Each of them a member of the House of Orren or their once close allies. Men and women who had once been of privilege, money, and stature. People who had all the wealth to live their comfortable little lives in whatever world they found themselves in. All of whom had decided they hadn't been quite comfortable enough in the new era of the Republic.

"P-p-please." Lady Orren begged, the deep black color of her hair seeming to almost shine within the light. Her hands desperately pushing at the bloodied tile beneath to drag herself away from the Dreadlord who loomed above her. "I-it was j-ju-just t-talk. N-n-not-nothing m-more."

A scoff echoed from Erodin's lips. "Is that so?"

The Dreadlord mused, head shaking from side to side as he took a single step forward; boot landing on the fringes of Lady Orren's dress. Pinning her in place as she desperately tried to get away. Her hands happening upon the still warm flesh of one of her guests.

"I-I-I-p-pl-please, I d-don't want to di-" Some of the amusement vanished from Erodin's face.

"Come now, don't beg. It's unbecoming a woman of your stature." Slowly, Erodin bent down. His free hand reaching out as he grasped the Ladies chin. Grip tight enough that her skin might have bruised in a few days time. He drew the Lady up to her feet, his boot leveling the edge of her dress as he peered into her eyes. "Where is your husband?"

He asked, the sword turning in his hand. "I-I-" Lady Orren stammered, but the answer found her lips. "T-to the north. He went to Lumiria to gather sup-"

Before she could finish, the words died on her tongue. Eyes opening wide in shock as she felt the life leave her. The crimson which carried her vitae spilling upon the floor. A wrench drawing Erodin's sword free as he turned, Lady Orren's body falling onto the ground in a crumpled heap. Joining the rest of her conspirators as the Dreadlord called to his companion. "Lumiria."

Erodin said simply. "Of course it's fucking Lumiria."

He complained, well acquainted with the mountain city in the Savannah.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria had found a spot against the wall aside a few fallen bodies that lay in pools of dark red. This was not her first bloodbath, but her first one done by not just her own hands. She had watched Erodin work, fascinated in the way he played with the lives of each woman and man in these halls, and listened to all their screams and begging before they choked on their blood. A few of those bodies were by her doing. Some had grabbed at her, pleading with the young girl to save them.

If Vittoria had been brought up to sympathise, she would have hesitated before curling her hands into fists and in doing so, used her decimation magic to make their hearts split inside their rib cages. She had walked over them, had navigated the growing bloody floor as Erodin worked his way to Lady Orren. She had tried to run, but Vittoria did not have to lift a finger in order to shatter the bones in one foot, sending her to fall forward. To watch the Dreadlord work, it made her think of the times when she was younger, that she would one day work alongside her father and watch him kill with his own style before he had succumbed to his injuries in an ambush.

Ever the dutiful and studious Initiate, she lifted her head as he gave voice to their next lead. Her head canted to one side, thinking, thinking... thinking...

"The Lord would travel so far to gather support for this cause?" It was not disbelief in her vacant expression, but the opportunity to mock his poor judgement. "It is an act of desperation. Something fantastical to cling to in order to prove to themselves they were not hopeless." But Vittoria smiled, a true and genuine lifting of her cheeks that made her eyes narrow slightly.

"Imagine his spirits when he learns of this massacre."

Breaking someone's spirits delighted her. She had done it to herself in her primitive years of training before Revolution came, had achieved more than a Proctor could in beating her down into nothing, only to rise into one of the best weapons of her class. Vittoria did not hesitate in accepting this mission, had beaten out a graduate Initiate for this role.

 

[Erodin]

Erodin glanced briefly towards Vittoria, a small smile on his lips as he shook his head. He shifted, crouching down to rip away some of Lady Orren’s dress, the sound of tearing silk echoing out in the now quiet manor house. ”Doubtless he found none close by.”

The Vigilite had done good work after their turn to the Republic, even Erodin had to admit that. In a show of zeal they had hunted down and tracked dozens of traitors within and outside of Vel Anir. Monitoring communications, tracking nobles, and even capturing a few conspirators themselves. Centuries of control by the Houses could not be undone so quickly, of course, but a dent had been made. Lord and Lady Orren were not the first, nor the last, who would feel the corrective hand of the Republic.

Poetic in a way. All those who complained that the new Order was ‘too soft’, quickly found the truth of the matter. Public perception and facts did not always align.

Though Erodin new better than most that such statements went both ways. The Vigilite had done well to keep conspiracies such as this tamped down, but had all but failed to infiltrate Gilram and his ranks. A fact which he and Amelie had exploited to find their new positions.

”Lumiria will give him what he asks.” The Dreadlord explained as he began to wipe the blood off his blade. ”If only to spite Vel Anir. They know that with the Radiant Church pressing, and more than a few Archons on the loose the Republic can only focus on so many things.”

The city of Lumiria was not strong enough to challenge Vel Anir, not on its own, but the Republic was distracted. Given the chance, and a few inroads made by a once loyal noble, they would strike from the north and gain ground before The Guard could fully mobilize. ”I think it best we deliver news of this massacre ourselves.”

Erodin said with a grin.

”It'll be better that way.” It would not be the first time he'd taken the initiative on a mission, and the Republic would thank them for stopping a problem before it ever started.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Sidestepping a corpse that was sprawled across the path she was taking, daintily keeping her polished boots clean, Vittoria came to pause beside the still warm body of Lady Orren. Lowering herself, crouched down to stare at the gaudy necklace that clung to the woman's throat. Vittoria grabbed it, using her magic to undo the fastening at the back.

"Orren Crest." She held it up, the polished silver positively shining in the light. The crest was littered with jewels, but on the rear of the pendant were the words 'for my beloved.' "We ought to return it to the Lord Orren when we tell him of the news."

Proof of what they had done.

Despite her pretty features, her pleasant youthful appearance, it was Vittoria's ability to not bat an eye to cruelty that shocked many. One day, the people of Vel Anir would believe that a sweet looking girl could render such a magnitude of blood being spilled, just as the people in this room began trying to escape the ballroom once they realised what Erodin's uninvited presence was here for.

"Just how long of a journey is it to Lumiria?"

 

[Erodin]

Erodin let out a small chuckle. The girl certainly had a flare for the dramatic, something Amelie would have liked.

Perhaps he would have to introduce them. "I'm sure he will be most appreciative."

The Dreadlord mused, shifting his own stance and tossing the now bloody rag onto Lady Orren's corpse. Paying no second mind as he turned away from the bloody scene of the massacre and began to head out towards the front door.

Though Marr might have preferred they clean up their mess, Erodin knew word would spread faster if the corpses were left behind. There would be rumors of course, whispers of who had done it, and a few might even guess correctly. But the message was what mattered. Orren's leanings were well known, and once he and his temporary ward slaughtered him...there would be little doubt to those who would attempt the same trick.

"Ten days ride." Erodin mused. "But we'll be leaving the horses here."

He stated plainly as he threw open the doors of the manor. "I'll not have him warned of whats coming."

Erodin, the air before them seeming to shift. A near translucent figure beginning to slowly emerge from ethereal nothing. Slowly drawing itself into place, first wings, then scales, then tail and claws. A massive dragon ripping itself slowly into reality as the two Dreadlords stepped towards it.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Her father did not have much else to say of Erodin or Amelie during their time working for the Viraks, not before he became injured and suffered chronically from pains. His own magic betrayed him at times, feeding on his weariness as it demanded to be satiated. It was when she was three years old he began to wear nullifiers, and taught his daughter how best to wield her first magic that manifested in her. At least, that was the story he had her tell. Decimation, the ability to undo, was not her first magic. Her concealment magic kept any hint of magic away from the Proctors that came to test her, buying her a few years of her father preparing her for the Academy and ensuring she would survive.

And she had.

She watched as something moved towards them, and she knew this to be Erodin's doing. His display of power, of expertise, it resignated something in her, and reassured her that her goal to become an Archon level Dreadlord was something she could achieve in her life. What else exuded power than the depiction of a dragon appearing before her eyes? Vittoria was delighted, gracing the draconic figure a genuine smile.

"I read a folktalke once about a dragon." She shared. "There were illustrations of it, and always showed it baring their teeth to remind others that those teeth were a warning to their bite." And it inspired her, even until now, to show her teeth when she wanted to remind her classmates or superiors of the threat she was. But she wanted to learn from Erodin, trust him being allied with her lording House.

 

[Erodin]

"Cute." Erodin remarked, amusement playing over his features.

The had absolutely no idea if stories like that were true, he'd never much cared for folktales. His Focus at the Academy had always been on the practical. Devouring every scrap of knowledge he could get to become better and stronger. Unlike many of his peers, Erodin had embraced the life they were given, seeing their lives as Dreadlord's as a way to attain what was supposed to already be his.

"This one was named Thyraxis." The Dreadlord explained, his eyes flickering with an odd blue glow as the Dragon before them bent low. It's tattered wraithly wing dipping to the ground as it formed a sort of ramp. "I took his soul in the Spine."

Erodin mused as he stepped onto the ghosts wing and lead Vittoria to it's spine. "Come to think of it."

The Dreadlord said, a slight chuckle rolling from his throat as the Dragon lifted it's wings.

"He did bare his teeth." He laughed as they launched into the sky.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria followed where his feet went along the wing, careful in her ascent behind Erodin. A grin spread across her face, hearing Erodin comment on the teeth baring dragon. Unused to such movements and flying, Vittoria crouched and steadied herself as the winds whipped around them. Instinct and training kept her stable until she chanced herself to stand like Erodin. Getting a feel for the air, she allowed herself to adjust her stance and relished in the feel of the dragon's flight.

"How does that work, Dreadlord Erodin? Your magic." It had been quite some time since she was under the tutelage of a capable superior, especially one as powerful as what she strived to be.