Dreadlords How Many Have to Die?[Fate]

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Vittoria showed on her expression how pleased she was to hear him talk, to educate her that she was still in control despite it all. Control was all she ever cared for, especially when it came to any combat. Distract them with the knives she can pull from beneath her skin, devastate them with her decimation.

Despite her class being educated and trained the most in the times of the Revolution, Vittoria still racked up the highest kill count out of her peers. Some of the older Dreadlords she worked with had started to call her The Unmaker when she was just fourteen, and such a reputation only made her classmates steer clear of her.

Perhaps she did not need to befriend them all, but she would need to size them all up and figure what worth they were to her.


"Stepping stones." She said, the smallest of smiles on her face. "A means of getting through to what I want."

Her eyes fell to the rune and message, now complete, and canted her head. "Tell me, how does that work?"
 
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He tilted his head in a nod. "Precisely."

To believe that one could take on the whole world alone was folly. Erodin had understood that from the very beginning. Though he had been utterly ruthless at the Academy, he had always been sure to cultivate and build relationships. Just as he was teaching Vittoria to do now.

Relying on others to do things was difficult for people like them, but it was a necessity. Were it not for Cenric his own hand wouldn't reach half as far as it now did. That wasn't even to mention any of his other little rats skulking about Aniria and beyond.

"It's a simple thing created by Amelie." Erodin began as he turned to look at her. "The outer rune, here."

He showed Vittoria the inscription. "Tells the message where to go and what form to take, in this case, a bird. Here the inner runes..."

Erodin gestured.

"Is the actual message, coded of course." As the rune flew off towards the city below, the Dreadlord regarded it once more. "Rune Magic is foundational. It can be used for many things beyond what the Proctors have taught you."

A fact she had already learned, given the other rune he'd begun to teach to her. "They are far less limited than other forms of magic, because the barrier is not ones own power, but so so much more."

The Dreadlord explained.
 
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And to Vittoria, the Proctors taught her nothing in comparison of what was left for her to learn.

Her eyes watched over the runes, pinpointing each one used to make up the action it was responsible for. She smiled, a little crook of her lips as she paid particular attention to the lesson he continued on runes. "And the bird? What message will it carry for us?"

Her eyes flicked upwards, to the city they would raze if it meant another message needed to be sent and received.

"Have we ever had quarrel with Lumiria?" She asked, staring at the carved city that rose proud in the Savannah. "Disappointing that Lord Orren was not present, so he could not watch his wife expire before his eyes." Perhaps she could tell him of what Erodin did to her, what Vittoria could do to him...

No... Vittoria was not a great conversationalist. She rather liked demonstrating just how much pain she could inflict instead.

Looking back to Erodin, she waited for his next words.
 
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"I have a friend in the city." One of the hundreds of little 'rats' that he had spread over this continent. His information network rivaling almost that of the Vigilite's itself.

It had been one of the most important facets of his life, and a main focus of his career as a Dreadlord. Many missions had been spent bribing officials and cultivating friendships. Of course, when Cenric had joined him, things had taken off even more.

Now practically in every city in the world, scurried one of Erodin's rats. "He send word of where Lord Orren is staying, and get us into the city unseen."

"One of those disposable friends I mentioned."
The Dreadlord mused, glancing down at Vittoria with a small smile.

"No war has ever broken out between our nations. They know Vel Anir is too strong, but we have long pressed them." He explained. "Eventually, you can only press something so far. The Republic is not yet strong enough to handle every threat it faces."

Not with the growing war in Cortos, Gilram, and two other Archon's on the loose. Erodin knew just how much danger the new government was in. Which, of course, was why they had chosen to support it. There was opportunity in danger, and they would be the ones to seize it. "Lumiria is a threat, one we will end tonight."
 
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The power he spoke with as he mentioned the disposable friends sung to Vittoria like a siren's song. She wanted to feel that too, to collect these disposables loyal to her. Something she would assess once she returned to the Academy, returned to where she held court due to her ferocious approach to her training.
"Lumiria is a threat, one we will end tonight."

Vittoria looked to the city before them, a picturesque tableau against the sky. The clouds swirled with the winds, occasional gusts sweeping over the Dreadlord pair. "It is best for the future of Vel Anir to assist in the downfall of Lumiria. An important lesson to those that doubt the might of Aniria."

She would see the buildings flattened, no longer strong enough to stand. From every road leading to Lumiria would be littered with torn apart remains of it's people... but such a message may be too strong of a notion. Only at Erodin's instruction would she go about bringing down this threat.


"May I ask, Erodin, if I could be the one to... question Orren before his sentence to death?"
 
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Erodin's head turned slowly towards Vittoria, a bemused smile flickering over his features. "You are quite vicious, aren't you?"

He mused, not even a hint of judgment to his tone.

The impulse that Vittoria felt was one that he'd held his entire life. The need for proving oneself, to push to the razors edge, and to control all those surrounding them. It was a familiar feeling, and the echo of himself within the girl was something he delighted in.

"You'll have your chance." Erodin said with a smile, glancing down as he noted something slowly flickering towards them. "But first."

He said as he extended his palm. "We find him."

Slowly, his smile extended into a grin. "And then we slaughter all the rest."

As he finished, the floating rune that had slowly flapped towards them landed within his palm. The message within a simple answer, a way into the city. There was a tunnel not too far, and there they would meet Erodin's contact.

After that?

Lumiria was not long for this world.
 
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Vicious may only be the word to describe Vittoria when it came to getting what she wanted.

The scent of a hunt came with the breeze that brought the message of how they could both get into the city. Erodin could have chosen a Dreadlord over an Initiate, but she was grateful to be given this opportunity under his guidance. She read the message, feeling a pep to her step as she moved to follow Erodin to the tunnel.

Their entry point was not too far, but it held every imposing scent of dampness and darkness, no light to guide them. Hands to one wall, Erodin's to another, they mapped their way forward until a crossroads came upon them.


"This way." She murmured, careful not to let her voice echo. "Torchlight." Just as the message said, a signal for the right direction.
 
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Their way into Lumiria was dark, dingey, and entirely unhygienic. A part of him had wished they'd simply dropped from the sky into the city, but the chances of being seen would have been far too great. Better a few moments of discomfort, and the guarantee of success along with it.

Both of them remained silent until the first spark of light appeared within the distance. Vittoria catching it first as Erodin checked their surroundings with his ethereal sight. A few seconds passed before he answered her, a quick affirmation being all he offered before they ascended a set of stone steps. As they reached the top, a figure waited there. Small and hunched, no older than fourteen. His clothes were haggard, and his face was a mess of bruises.

“Arrakus sent me, My Lord.” The boy said, never looking directly at Erodin, but sparing a glance for Vittoria. “Here are the keys to a house down the street. Third door, number eighteen. My master has left what you requested inside.”

Erodin mused for a moment then plucked a small silver coin from a pouch in his belt. He flipped it to the boy, whose face lit up as though he'd just been handed a throne. ”Well done, lad. Take this, and tell your Master nothing of it.”

His eyes went wide, and then he quickly nodded as he tucked it into his own pouch before offering Erodin a set of keys. He did not wait a second after the Dreadlord took them, scrambling away so that the Anirian's mind could not change about the silver piece.

”One piece of silver.” He said, glancing down at Vittoria. ”That's all it takes sometimes.”

Erodin continued, stalking off towards the House that had been pointed out to them.
 
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Vittoria smiled at the boy, although she doubted it put him at much ease when her smile was without kindness.

Everything was falling into place, and Vittoria had watched that silver coin flip in the air to be caught by the young boy, who pocketed it and kept it secure before running off.

It was as simple as that, just as Erodin proved, and Vittoria could only think how much coin she was happy to spare. She did not need coin to sway the minds of those residing in Lumiria.

Vittoria followed a few paces behind Erodin, keeping a watch on their surroundings as they moved into the city. It was a late hour, but there miraculously was still people milling about the streets, making their way home or to the next stop on the way. They walked by without fuss, and soon enough Erodin came to a stop before a door. It was the third door found, and there in iron numbers was 18 set against the old wood.

"I never need keys." The Initiate gave a short sigh and fitted the key into the lock, hearing it click before turning to unlock it. "Just two seconds and I can trick the system."

But she pushed the door open, taking initiative by entering first.
 
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”Handy.” Erodin mused as Vittoria stepped into the rickety shack. The Dreadlords eyes once again flashing to that odd blue as he peered through the empty room.

As the two stepped inside they were greeted with a near empty flat. No furniture or decorations hung within, save for a single table in the middle of what might have once been a living room. Upon it lay three separate folders of parchment, each one arrayed in turn. Erodin stepped over towards the table, flipping open the first of the piece of parchment to find a list of names as well as sketches.

”The nobility aligning themselves with our dear escaped Lord.” If one could even call the savages of this land by such title. Lumiria’s elite pretended to have the auspices of title, but in truth they were little more then savages. ”The other folders will be our way in, and his movements while here.”

He knew that much already. ”Best to start at the top.”

Without those leading them, the soldiers and citizenry would move like headless chickens. He intended to make sure Lumiria was never a threat again, but first they had to make sure Orren wouldn't slip out of their grasp during the chaos.
 
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"Nice and orderly." Vittoria agreed with a pleasant smile. She peered a little closer to glimpse the name, clearing her throat before reading it aloud. "Lord Wesnyr." It sounded like a sneer on her lips, and the Initiate scrunched her face delicately as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. "Lives lower down, according to these maps and sketches."

Carefully, she pried a sketch from the pile that was marked as Wesnyr's home. Defenses were listed as all magical and Vittoria loosed a humoured laugh. "Souls that hide behind locks and magic can mean two things. One: they are prepared to defend their home. Two: they cower behind defenses."

Placing the parchment back down onto the table, she tapped a finger on the corner of another piece, pulling it free by dragging her finger. Vittoria clicked her tongue, seeing a portrait depicting a younger face than she had believe would be Wesnyr. "A son?" An heir? A bloodline to end?
 
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Erodin let his eyes flicker over the files, frowning at the mention of wards. He did not disagree with Vittoria’s assessment. There was little doubt that the men they were after were either one of the two things that she had mentioned, or perhaps simply both.

For their purposes, it did not matter.

Cowards or clever, they would have to either break through the defenses…or slip beneath them. His brow quirked as Vittoria pulled free the portrait of Wesnyr’s son. A smile touching his lips as he plucked free another piece of parchment. ”Excellent.”

He intoned, as he placed his own parchment in front of the girl. Revealing a letter that mentioned a Gala, a fundraiser for the support of Lord Orrens ‘efforts’.

”The boy can be your way into this.” Erodin continued, glancing at the girl. ”Provided you have a…charming mask in your arsenal?”

If not, they could always threaten him, or use a rune of control. The Republic had outlawed such things, of course, But they weren't in the Republic.

Besides, Erodin had never particularly cared for the rules imposed by others.
 
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Vittoria stared at the portrait, her expression staring at it. He had dark hair, and a nice smile, if she had to be truthful to herself. But Erodin asking her if she was capable flirting with the young man made her think of Kilien Basmarc.

She pursed her lips, thinking it over and shrugging. "In my own way."

In order to pull it off, she would need to put effort into her appearance. Vittoria favoured a more minimal upkeep to her appearances, as a soldier should. Of course, she had no real experience in dolling herself up, nor had she the experience to do so. In fact, Vittoria never thought about flirting, not until one boy had intrigued her so much that she began to notice it. Something inside her mind sneered at the thought of mimicking Kilien's charm, but there was a satisfaction and eagerness for the young Initiate to lull a victim into a false sense of security. "Cannot be too hard. I might need to work on my smile. The muscles in my cheeks are a little out of practice with smiling..."
 
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Erodin snorted, unable keep the laughter from his throat.

"It's an effective weapon." He told her, knowing as much from his own experience. A smile could be just as good as a blade at times, one simply had to know when. "There's satisfaction in killing."

The Dreadlord mused as he moved away from the table and towards the large chest in the corner of the room. "But true triumph comes when the killing is done for you."

He mused vaguely, popping the chest open and revealing a stack of clothes.

Quickly the Dreadlord began to dig through it, searching for something for himself as well as Vittoria.

"Trick the boy into letting you into his house." Erodin said as he pulled free a dress from the chest. One made of red silk and threaded gold. "Then watch the horror in his eyes as you slit his fathers throat."

He finished with a smile, holding up the dress. "That's satisfaction."
 
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She never wore red.

Red was a reminder of her other heritage, that of the Pirians, and Vittoria was raised a devout and loyal Virak. She wore her family colours, bronze and sea green, all her life.

But never red.

If Vittoria ever needed to turn heads again, she certainly should be dressed in this fine silk red in a shade of crimson that no blushing innocent could ever pull off. It was more than confidence or bloodthirst, it was an omen, and as Vittoria walked through the Gala, all eyes turned her way.

She had switched to the Common Tongue than her native Anirian, for those that were checking invitations at the door used it and Vittoria followed suit. There had been a bag of cosmetics left for her, and as a girl that had no real experience of using it herself, she smudged a light amount of kohl around her eyes to let her light eyes pierce. Her hair had been brushed, worn loose so that it swayed in a sheen of black down her spine. The Initiate felt older, wiser, as if she were in total control.

Vittoria was to operate as if she were late, looking for her father, played by Erodin should she actually need his presence, in hopes of attracting the attention of the heir to Lord Wesnyr.

"Beautiful dress!" And other variants of the compliment came her way, and Vittoria found herself giving them a shy smile in return.

Demure, elegant, and entirely too beautiful compared to the rest gathered, Vittoria laid eyes on her target before feigning embarrassment and averting her gaze. She peered over the crowd, her tall stature aided with heels she did not care for, but the heir had taken the bait.

"Are you from around here?" He asked, stepping into her line of vision.

Vittoria attempted a smile, not so broad, but lovely despite being out of practice. "Elbion."
 
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This had always been the least favorite part of being a Dreadlord for him. Amelia had enjoyed it, but that was no surprise given her magic. The flickers of thoughts and glimpses of memories caught delighted her, which had often delighted him with more than just gossip and rumor.

Their base of power had been built on parties like this. "No, no, we came separately."

A smile flashed as he answered the woman's question, catching the glint in her eye.

Out here there was little information to be taken up. Doubtless she was eager for whatever piece of news from the capital she could lay her hands on. It was pitiable in a way, Erodin supposed, but she had chosen this life. Her side had lost the war after all, a fact which had been apparent years ago.

By now they could have capitulated, even know the Republic was weak enough that He'd managed to bend it to his will. These pathetic wretches couldn't even do that from the inside.

"Just yesterday in fact." He smiled. "Yes yes, Drache Manor, a bit shabby carved in a cave and all, but acceptable."

How his 'friend' had amanged to secure one of the largest in the city, Erodin still wondered. It was a nice little bit of leverage though.
 
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Nothing had ever made her skin crawl as it did when that boy let out a laugh, one often associated with aristocrats all over.
"Never been." He stood closer to her, allowing his hand to lift and brush against her own. "Although perhaps you can tell me over a dance or two?"
Her dancing expertise was not the greatest, but she was on par with her friend King, who dominated the dance floor. It was her lack of care for it, her bitterness to waste such time to it, but the idea of it now showed on her face in unchecked anticipation. They would be close enough that she could kill him. He would fall into her, she would be able to whisper at his ear, feel the life leave his —

"Of course you do." And with a light tug, a smirk on his facade, the heir pulled Vittoria along with him to the sea of dancers.


"I should find my father..." She murmured softly, a weak attempt at refusing him this dance, but she knew the kind of person this boy was. He was rarely told no, or at least had the power to tread heavily against any protests.

But he swept her up into a waltz, a sway of music leading them into the second quarter of the song. "I am sure he can find you after... but I wish to know more about you. You are shiny, new, and before any other male present could steal you away... I want to find out for myself who you are, starting with your name.

A lie was ready at her lips. "Eliza." A devious smile curved her lips.

And so the song went, the dance taking them thrice about the room, and Vittoria utter lie after lie with a smile. Her cheeks burned from holding one so long, but Revin Wesnyr did not notice it falter ever. He was more than willing to overshare, to boast about his father's business and political involvement. And like the namesake she had stolen the name from, Vittoria recreated the looks of awe, smitten without much else effort on her partner's part.


"You have horses?" She feigned the excitement she had observed Initiate Eliza Wylls use countless times, fueled by the frustrations and bitterness she truly wished to display. Vittoria would have no problem making Revin suffer.

"Well..." Finally, as he whisked her to the frays of the dance floor, he pulled her closer still and secured a strong hand at her waist. "If you would like, I could show you the stables of my estate. Tonight? We could tell your father you are unwell..."

Too soon. Vittoria did not think this would progress so quickly, but the game was yet to be played. Her hands came to press against his chest, for there were no other natural place to have them. It got them many stares, mostly jealous looks from other girls, sneers from mothers that had hoped their daughters would charm an heir. "I would love to... but after I have enjoyed the evening some. I do insist perhaps on introducing you to my father, if you are so inclined. As long as he has seen me, happy and enjoying my first evening here in Lumiria, I am sure he will not notice if we slip away later..."
 
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"That would be delightful, Contessa, if only my wife were not a jealous wo-" Erodin let the charm turn almost immediately when he spied Vittoria and her baited fish.

It wasn't subtle, it wasn't even secret, but the way he made the conversation flow somehow managed to offend no one. Erodin did not stop talking, he did not rudely cease what he was saying, instead; he took everyone with him.

As he swept forward and embraced his 'daughter', the Dreadlord gently swept an arm.

Suddenly this gala was no longer about whatever affair it had been before, no. Erodin commanded attention like the ringmaster at a Circus. Even a few of those not engaged with him turned their heads, wondering why this tall man was suddenly speaking.

"Darling, darling." He told Vittoria. "Where have you been?"

He glanced at the young boy. "Cavorting with the riff-raff?"

Erodin's needle plunged forward for a second, and he could see the spark of the defiance in the boys eye. He knew that, he knew that the boy would be thinking of him later. He knew it would make him want Vittoria more.

After all, it would be a slight against 'him'.
 
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Vittoria held her head high as she smiled softly at Erodin, the father role he had taken for this ruse awakened something in her, a memory that came to an end only a year prior before the death of her own father. But like Tamhas Larrainth, Vittoria would make Erodin proud.

"This is... uh...." If she had control of her body, she would hope her cheeks turned red, but she settled for struggling to remember the heir's name. Of course, the dossier had told them both all they needed to know, but the boy smiled pointedly at Erodin and introduced herself. Vittoria scrunched her nose, a reaction in trying not to scoff. "Yes, Revin Wesnyr."

"Certainly not riff-raff, Lumiria is lucky to have my family's money here." He provided.

What a fool, she could not help but think as she feigned a giggle. If King had heard her make such a sound, he would be within his right mind to cart her off to have her head checked. This night was one of firsts, but she was determined to succeed and work towards the teachings Erodin had imparted her with. She wanted to be powerful, in not only her magic, but her relations with the people.

Tonight, it will start with the Wesnyr heir.


"He is excellent as a dance partner." Vittoria knew nothing else to comment, even as several eyes went to her.

"Well is she not a darling? Must take after her mother!"

"Are you going to introduce her to society? She would have a line of bachelors waiting for her hand!"

"What is your name?"

"This is Eliza. And tonight, her dance card is filled unfortunately." Said Revin, taking her hand and tucking it through his. "And if you would like to excuse us, I haven't quite finished getting to know our newest Lumirian."
 
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Erodin perked an eyebrow. "Well the Suitors are certainly more pushy than back home, aren't they dear?"

He said, eliciting a small chuckle from the gathered nobility around them. Most of them of course knew the game that was being played here, or what they thought was being played anyway. Centuries upon centuries of Anirian tradition wrapped Gala's like these.

Before the Revolution these parties were something of a battlefield in it of themselves.

Noble families had competed with one another as Gladiators might have in a ring, save their arena lay behind closed doors...and blades were far more subtle. It was folly to think such traditions had left the heart of the Anirian upper crust. Even all the way out here.

"If I was a traditionalist, Boy." Erodin said, looming over the young man and gently coming to rest a hand on the hilt of his sword. Continuing to poke. Continuing to spark that fire. The one which would draw him to Vittoria. The same type of blade that many of the nobleman in the room carried. "I'd be making you beg to even hold my Eliza's hand."

He glanced disapprovingly at his touch, but replaced the smile on his face. "But lucky for you, I am a man who dotes on his daughter."

Erodin glanced to Vittoria. "Do enjoy your dances, Sweetheart, but remember where you came from."

The Dreadlord said, offering one last look to Wesnyr, before returning his attentions to the other guests.
 
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Vittoria schooled her expression to keep from giving the smug smile any chance of existing on her face. She did a perfection execution of looking embarrassed, much to the delight and humour of the nobles that found her to be quite endearing. With his permission to dismiss herself, she looped her arm around Revin's arm and bid the small crowd adieu as she returned to the dancing once again.

After a moment, Revin grinned down at her like Vittoria would do so later this evening. He was a hunter that had found a great prize. "Your father is quite protective of you."

Vittoria let out a gentle laugh, laced with nerves. "Yes, yes he is."

As promised, they danced a few more songs before Revin lured 'Eliza' away. Vittoria felt her heart beat rapidly, concealing her excitement with anxiety and nervousness as she constantly turned back to the party. What she had not expected was the Wesnyr boy to lure her into the carriage owned by his family and ask his driver to make himself scarce.

Vittoria tried not to appear annoyed, hoping that they were going to his home at least so that she could better prepare the positioning of the portrait of murder she would paint in blood while the moons hit their peak in the night sky.

"Are... are we not going anywhere?" She asked, peering around and appearing so nervous, she might as well be a lamb in the midst of a lion.

"No... no I thought we needed a moment of quiet... and for me the chance to better get to know you."

The carriage was simple, just like every other make. That meant there were entry points all the same and not much work if she needed to leave this place. Turning to stare at him, she made sure to widen her eyes. "What... What more would you like to know about me?"

She was a serpent waiting to strike.

The smile Revin wore was predatory, as if his meal was within reach and not aware that she was hiding within the wool to take a bite. He even slowly made to sit beside her in her seat, placing a hand on the red skirts of her dress. His fingers began to bunch up the fabric, something so tantalising she was sure she would enjoy it more if it were someone else, but the soldier within her waited.

Tonight would be successful. Would be the beginning of the worst night Lumiria would ever know in it's histories.

"I am going to ask for your hand in marriage." He began, staring at her as watching her reactions. When she did not move, did not try to stop him, he became more bold. "I am sure your father kept you hidden and in pure condition, but a husband to be needs to know for certain if your father brought you up the traditional way."

Vittoria would rather he went in to kiss her than his fingers finally find the flesh at her knee. She could kill him here and now, but she would find pleasure and satisfaction in making him suffer after this. Make him witness what it meant to be the leader of his family as Vittoria killed his father before his eyes.

Unknown to Wesnyr, Vittoria's hand traced a rune meant to communicate to Erodin, just as he had taught her on the journey.


Shall we slaughter them all here?

His reply would dictate what she would do next.
 
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Erodin was getting bored. He had thought perhaps that he might find something here. A little noble lady with too lose of a tongue, a drunk who might share some secret...but all he found was complaints. The nobles of Lumiria were wealthy, powerful, but utterly ensconced within their own ways.

None of them could see a world beyond the one that they envisioned. All of them thought themselves the better of those who now held the Republic, and even some of those who had remained. Some of the clamoring fools here going so far as to denounce the Great Houses. Calling them cowards, when it was simply true that they were not fools.

By the time Vittoria's message found him, Erodin was clutching his fifth goblet of wine, having determined that being drunk was the only way that he would ever make it through the evening.

When the strands of fate touched upon his ear, and Vittoria's words were silently whispered to him, Erodin felt tension bleed away from his body. It was a relief, to hear from his ward. Knowing that she had the son where they wanted him. Keep him alive.

The words were scribbled with a swipe of the finger, far more ostentatiously than was necessary. The woman in front of him cocking her head in confused curiosity.

Kill the rest. The air twisted upon itself as the rune flickered forward, a look of shocking drawing over his conversation companion's face as the magic flew away. Her mouth opened to speak, but Erodin did not allow her a word.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!" Erodin announced as suddenly his eyes sparked blue. A wave of magic erupting from the Dreadlord's body. "May I have your attention please?"

He called out as the air began to shift and change around the doors and windows of the Gala. Within an instant dozens of wraiths drew from nothingness. All of them wore the armor of the Anirian Guard, vorpal blades shifting from ghostly scabbards as the ethereal soldiers drew their weapons and shut the paths of escape.

Yelps of surprise and murmurs of fear began to echo. "It is with great delight, that I anounce the Republic has come calling."

A shrill cry echoed out, signalling the terror of the slaughter that followed.
 
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Revin's hand had reached beneath the cover of her skirts he had shoved upon her lap when Vittoria's hand stopped his. Her grasp was strong, unrelenting, and the boy was quick to chuckle and lift his face to meet hers. He had leaned in close, just as Kilien had once been close to playfully tease her and her stone guard. But what Revin saw was an icy stare, one that seemed to surprise him until her hands gripped tighter at his wrist.
"Eliza, you are hurting me..."
"Oh please, I am sure you enjoy being rough to others..." Her words were saccharine, but Vittoria's gaze were threats of blades.
"What are y—"

But Vittoria had made her move. Her other hand went to his head, two fingers used to press at the pressure point behind his ear to cause the lecherous heir to go limp. She had trained to drag bodies before, and despite being much heavier than her, Vittoria made sure work of dragging him back to the dance hall.

Stragglers that were meandering about the halls gasped seeing Vittoria, causing a stir. She delighted in this, smiling something true and honest as minutes went by and the Initiate was walking into a pit of chaos and panic. Screams now provided score to Erodin and Vittoria's work; a dance of wraiths stirring hysteria and fear.

Her hand released the unconscious body of Revin, in plain sight of the Lord Wesnyr. His eyes, the same pretty blue eyes his son inherited, went wide with shock. He started towards them, only stopping mere feet from Vittoria when his gaze snapped up to her and he paused. She was still smiling, something so natural that fed on the false hope this hall had felt all evening.


"Your son has wandering hands, did you know?" She asked the Lord with some concern.

Her words had him frozen to the spot.

"I wonder how many ladies he felt right to inspect their maidenhoods... A father should discourage such awful acts." And Vittoria clicked her tongue. Lord Wesnyr cried out in pain as a lick of Vittoria's Decimation magic struck him, falling to his knees as the crack! of his left femur rang through their chaotic surroundings. "My father taught me valuable lessons, just as a different predator." No longer did Larrainth smile. She was fury, harnessed and cleaved. A portion of control, and a part of cruelty. Behind her, Revin roused, and remarkably was not trampled by the crowd, as if the wraiths were herding the traitors within this room.

And in that chaos, Vittoria dared to look around for Erodin. There he was, a ringmaster as wraiths and fear spun around him, and the Initiate would catch his gaze, a small, hopeful look crossing her features. Waiting for his order to kill.
 
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The herd shifted and moved. The crush of the crowd growing even as Revin began to pull himself up. Whispered horror grew to higher calls, and the nobility within the room began to beckon forth within their terror.

Then the screams began to silence piece by piece.

Blood slickened marble floors and spattered onto ancient tapestries. Men and women crashed into one another, a crushing flow of bodies that served only as fodder for decay and death. The wraiths shifted and appeared throughout room, blades already stained with crimson, their ghostly forms speckled with sickening rage as soul after soul was forced to partake within the horrid massacre.

To those who lost their lives it must have seemed like an eternity of terror. Hours of running, screaming as time warped in on itself and faded away. Lost within the delirium of fear as yet another ghostly blade found purchase upon flesh.

As Vittoria stood above her prize, catching the Ringmasters gaze, silence fell upon the hall.

The last sound which echoed through the walls was the crashing thud of a rag-dolled corpse falling onto the ground. Corpses and pieces of what was once men lay scattered throughout the ballroom, the entire aristocracy of the city wiped out in what must only have been a few minutes time.

Erodin seemed to revel within the moment. His eyes closing as he raised a hand, beckoning for Vittoria to wait for just a moment. The only sound to be heard, the blubbering of two soon to be dead men. A long breath left the Dreadlord, not a speckle of blood adorning his clothes as he opened his eyes and allowed himself the grace of a smile. "Do you know why you're going to die?"

Fear had long drained the color from Wesnyr's face, but to his credit the man managed not to piss himself as the Dreadlord approached.

"O-O-Orren. W-we took in Orren." Erodin smiled.

"Ah. So not a complete fool then." Slowly Erodin turned his head, glancing around the room. "Vittoria. Would you kindly ask Lord Wesnyr where our runaway might be located? I'd noticed he's rather...absent from this event."

The Dreadlord cocked a smile.
 
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Vittoria wandered back to Revin, who had the good sense to try and scramble away from her, but her hands caught his luscious hair within her grasp and tilted his head back enough that his eyes never lost his father. She fished for a blade hidden beneath her skin, and held it to his expose throat.

"Please..." He begged with a heavy whimper.

She ignored him. Her eyes stared at Lord Wesnyr. "My Lord, where is our dear friend? We have news to inform him of concerning his family... then there is the matter of his crimes in which he has committed. You would not wish to be complicit in his crimes, do you?" Then, she lowered to her knees, kneeling behind his son so that she could whisper in his ear.


"I should sever your fingers for what you were about to do to me. Perhaps your father can choose, hm? Your son's hand or Orren?"


Her eyes now fell on the side of Revin's face, staring at him while his father blubbered. "He is awfully handsome. I can see why he could ensnare so many to his charm..." And to the boy's horror, Vittoria leaned close and placed what could have been a kiss to his cheek. "Ask your father for his answer."

"What... what is your answer father?"

"Orren! I will give you Orren, please... spare my son!" The Lord pleaded to Vittoria. She smiled, pressing the knife a little deeper to his skin, flicking her wrist just so in order to slice the surface. Beads of blood came to the wound, threatening to fall if she cut deeper. "He has lodgings in the central district! Please, please, I beseech you! Lumir Palace. That is where you will find him."

Vittoria recognised the establishment. She snorted. Good and gracious gods, if a brothel were to be his place to die...


"Thank you." Vittoria smiled. Her eyes flicked to Erodin, awaiting the call to kill. He had promised her the Lord's heir would watch his father die, and perhaps the many possible ways to kill them both had crossed her mind ever since she set foot into that carriage.

She longed for this.
 
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