Private Tales In the Pursuit of Power

[Kristen Pirian]

A few hours would pass before at last the chance moment would come.

Kristen, in keeping with her disguise, reported to Steward Harrison, who berated Kristen as though it were her fault that illness had swept over her "cousin" and left a vacancy within the ranks of the servants, and he went on to bemoan it all as a crippling loss in efficiency. Kristen had to gently remind the Steward that she was, in fact, here to cover for said cousin, and was willing and able to work. Harrison, a man for something of a dramatic flair to couple with his penchant for overreacting, swooned a bit with the back of his hand to his forehead and gave thanks to a variety of gods before begrudgingly accepting that "what was done was done, and this Manor wasn't going to tidy itself!" and bestowing then upon Kristen the tasks he had in store for her so-called cousin, Dauner's agent.

Unfortunately, the first of such tasks was trimming hedgerows, which placed her outside. Snickerdoodle! At least every single instance of vegetation in the courtyard and in the gardens was already so well-kept that Kristen, even with her lack of expertise and precision, hardly needed to do anything. Even so, with the sun's light upon her, a bead of sweat or two peeked out above her brow, which she had to wipe away.

And, well, speaking of wiping, it wasn't long before the Steward came rushing out to find her and, after giving a grand speech about it, reassigned Kristen to wiping down all of the windows of the Manor. Goodness, Kristen nearly forgot all about the purpose of why she was here! These menial tasks in which she was engaged started giving her an appreciation for the work of House Pirian's own servants. She had, at least, the entertainment of thinking through all of the ways in which the work of servants and the training of Dreadlord Initiates, both arduous, differed from one another, and how they also similar in some lights.

When Kristen entered the Marquis's bedchambers, surprise confronted her from two directions. Firstly, that she had been so engaged in the guise of a servant and of its attendant work that she had nearly lost herself in it. Secondly, because the Marquis himself was in there.

Kristen stopped at the open doors. Gasped lightly. But de Sardet, sitting with his back to her at a lavish desk, writing upon some parchment, didn't turn to look at her. He just spoke perfunctorily, "Be about your work and be gone."

"Y-Yes, of course, my Lord."

The window which Kristen would move to clean would place her within view of the corner of the Marquis's eye. She knew it. Blessed Aionus, she knew it, and all at once the purpose of her being her illuminated with stark and awful clarity in her mind.

Kristen knew not how precisely Dauner and Khorvayne were watching. But she knew that the crucial moment would soon be upon her.

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

Harrison, a man with a flair for the dramatic. Dedicated to his job, with a penchant of taking his job too seriously. It was his duty to make sure that the manor was properly taken care of, so the Marquis can go about his day, unperturbed by the little things. To this end, he could be a cruel taskmaster, as Kristen would come to experience. Dauner paused for a second to think if this was a detail he should have shared with Kristen, but then brushed it off as of little significance to the mission.

While Khorvayne kept watch over Kristen, Dauner took advantage of the situation to bask in the view. The servant outfit did little to cover her cleavage, which Dauner observed studiously. At the end of the day, he was still a being of lust.

He watched on as Kristen slowly turned into just another servant, working hard to keep the manor running. Khorvayne's gaze followed her as she manoeuvred her way through the opulent halls of the manor, blending in seamlessly with the other servants, while cleaning one window after another. To be fair, Dauner was impressed. He didn't think she had it in her to go below her station, from noble to servant, and still, almost flawlessly, manage to blend in. Guess she wasn't all spoiled by her parents.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Kristen stepped into the lion's den.

At first, de Sardet paid little mind to her, as he remained absorbed in his work with his back turned to her. But that quickly changed when his eyes slid sideways to check on the servant. Instantly smitten, he was, by her beauty, that his lustful nature would rise from its slumber.

Dauner nodded with a frown upon noticing this. "The lucky bastard" he murmured bitterly. "I wonder if I could talk her into giving me a show too" he thought out loud enough for Khorvayne to hear.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"Even the most guarded of castles," said Khorvayne subversively, "have entrances lesser known."

And as she continued to watch the silent scene in the chambers of the Marquis, she could even through her far-seeing magic almost palpably feel the lust, the desire, growing in the sordid man. Ah, there was just something about the forbidden fruit which made it so irresistible, wasn't there?

Irresistible though it was, they needed the Marquis to act sooner rather than later.

In keeping with the plan, Khorvayne said, "I think a little push, Rai, is all he needs."

* * * * *​

Kristen felt ravaged by a terrible push and pull. On the one hand, she wanted to be done, done, DONE with cleaning this window and begone with all haste from the bedchambers; her skin was already crawling! Yet on the other hand, she knew that it was better to linger for as long as possible; the horrid reality of her acting as the bait! To approach him now, acting out of the ordinary, might raise his suspicions, maybe even allow for him to cry out for help and ruin all the subtleties of the plan. He had to approach her. She had to catch him when his guard was absolutely lowered, and she needed to strike him unconscious with one blow.

But the Marquis didn't make a move?

Kristen continued to wipe the window, and he continued to write upon his parchment. She didn't dare glance at him, lest she be caught, so she couldn't know if indeed his licentious nature was bubbling up to the surface. Indeed it was so bubbling up, and the Marquis was finding it ever more difficult to concentrate on finishing his letter; a battle between business and pleasure had gotten quickly underway in his mind.

Kristen finished wiping the window. What to do?? She couldn't just stay; she had to keep up appearances. But she trusted that Dauner was watching, that his magic sent from afar would afflict the Marquis and urge him to action.

So Kristen, with a deliberate slowness, gathered her bucket and rags and started to walk for the bedchamber's door. When, just before she could reach the door, from behind her the Marquis called and said—

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

Without a doubt, as Khorvayne had pointed out, the time had come for Dauner to make use of his quite unique talent. A pity, but the marquis will now have no choice than to give in to the feral impulses of lust that were not totally his own.

Remembering Kristen's reaction to the thought made him think it best she never knew this whole episode, and the acting performance was wholly unnecessary for the goal of taking the marquis.

Through eyes, borrowed from Khorvayne, as they watched into the room, just over Kristen's shoulder, Dauner cast a gaze upon the marquis, with ink black eyes, from sclera to pupil, and an iris of bloody red. Slightly relieved of his constant urge to bed the closest fair maiden, Dauner now subjected another to a very slight version of his undying lust.

Of course, he had to control just how much lust was cast upon the marquis. Just a tenth of this lust would be enough to turn even the most virtuous of knights into nothing more than a feral beast in heat, unable to control his urges and actions born thereof. What more of an already licentious nobleman. Especially with Kristen in the room. They needed him in one piece, after all. So he lowered the amount to a fraction of a percentage, and slowly work his way up, till the marquis could take it no more. And that too just as Kristen was heading for the door.

"Hold on a moment" the marquis called out, before Kristen could leave. Leaving the work he was doing behind, he turned his chair to face Kristen. "I wasn't aware we had such a lovely new addition to the manor" he smiled, his intentions distorting what he had planned to be a benign smile. "Don't be scared, come on closer" he added, as though in a bid to assure her that she wasn't in any trouble, while giving himself a better look at the beauty that stood before him.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"Yes, my Lord."

It took everything Kristen had to keep the stutter of anxiety from her voice. It took everything Kristen had to turn around, to act as demure and subservient and unbothered as she ought. She felt the whole weight (and terror) of her assumed character then, the servant inescapably bound to the authority of her master, knowing what designs he had in mind for her. Her stomach twisted in upon itself, bringing a rush of nausea which at the slightest provocation threatened to give way to an arresting sickness. She felt helpless.

But she wasn't helpless, thank Aionus. Hidden in her right glove was a hand, a magical construction, made of porcelain and adamantine. It would lend to her a strength she otherwise would not have, but even this was not all: she had her Dreadlord training. Yes! These were the things which would keep her safe, which would see this task done, which would keep those lecherous hands off of her!

All this Kristen concealed as she stood before the Marquis. "What is it you would ask of me, my Lord?"

The Marquis reached out and brushed one of Kristen's bangs, the necks on her neck rising as his fingernails, ever so slightly, passed over the skin of her cheek. He smiled, and somehow that made it all worse. "Tell me your name."

Kristen told him the pseudonym.

"Cousin?"

"Yes, my Lord, her cousin."

"A shame, then, that she had not taken illness sooner." The Marquis wouldn't move his hand from her face. "I mean that in no mean-spirited way toward your cousin, but rather, as a way to curse my own forlorn luck. Forlorn, that is, until today."

"Why do you say that, my Lord?"

The Marquis smiled again, this time some of his teeth showing. "Sweet girl, would you like to make me a happy man?"

"I am...at your service, my Lord."

"Come now..." his hand, finally and woefully in motion, caressed her cheek down to her chin, "...you needn't be so nervous. Mere delight, awaits. Good things. Pleasant for you and I." He glanced over to the bed, "There—"

Kristen took her chance when he glanced and punched him as hard as she could in the jaw. In a flash, like a still painting, she had seen the image of his eyes in the process of rolling up into his head. If that were not evidence enough, the flat thud with which the Marquis hit the floor, bereft of any effort to stifle the roughness of his landing, gave proof enough that the proverbial candle in his skull had been snuffled out...for a time.

Kristen stood over him. Dumbfounded for a moment.

Then she feverishly began to swipe at her face, this as if to wipe off the gut-wrenching ghost of the Marquis's foul touch.

* * * * *​

"Indeed a sweet girl," Khorvayne said in distant agreeance with the Marquis. "And yet so easily given to violence."

Khorvayne banished her far-seeing spell. She smiled to Dauner.

"I shall meet you in the Manor."

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

Dauner hated the marquis. Not for a reason grand in any way. Not because of his involvement in a plan that endangered the hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of the reach. Not even because he wanted to. The envy within him was what had created a jealousy of the current situation the marquis found himself in, and that jealousy bore hatred, as he watched the marquis' hand move about Kristen's face, unrestrained. But he couldn't let it run wild. He'd live with the ever burning envy, and its by-products, for millennia, and will continue to live with them for more to come. So this was hardly anything he couldn't keep in check.

The jealousy, however, did quell as Kristen did what Dauner was thinking of doing to the marquis. Knocked him out with a hard, cold, punch. This brought a smile to his face, which quickly died down, as he realised that that punch could also be his if he didn't watch himself. He settled with the idea that he could always wait till after receiving the punch before thinking about it.

"Then I shall await you" he replied. With that, his figure got covered by what seemed to be black goo, coming out of his shadow. The goo sucked him in, leaving behind a slight dark spot, which was only visible because in was under direct sunlight. The spot proceeded to jump into the shadows, where it became invisible to the naked eye, and zoomed over towards the Marquis' manor.

---

From out of the shadows behind the curtains, Dauner walked out, heading straight for the marquis. He crouched, poking the marquis' face with his finger. He was out cold, and Kristen had left quite a memorable mark on his face. That must have hurt quite a bit

"He seemed to have hit him quite hard, Kristen" he noted, getting back to his feet. "You do know we need him to wake up eventually, right?" he asked, poking fun at how heavy-handed she was.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen gave a harsh start when Dauner suddenly appeared from behind the curtains, for she, caught up as she was in her futile effort to brush away the memory of the Marquis's touch, forgot wholly the next stage of the plan—that Dauner would show. Her hands, in a most un-Dreadlord-like fashion, clapped to her cheeks, such was the force of her surprise.

She breathed a quick sigh of relief when Dauner spoke, however. "I struck him..."

...with adequate force for the task, was what she wanted to say. But that just wasn't true.

"...with such force as he deserved."

Still, jest or no jest, Dauner was right in that regard, that the Marquis did, in fact, need to wake, such that they might pry from him what he knew of Titus. Hopefully, she hadn't gotten a little too carried away with her punch. Aside from that, things had gone smoothly—all was still quiet and subtle, no alarm raised.

A crow landed then on the sill of the window Kristen had cleaned—the Sorceress Khorvayne in that avian form of hers. With its beak the crow tapped intently on the glass.

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

Dauner offered little more a smile in response, as he circled around the Marquis observing him, and, despite his bulk, lifted him up, before lowering him back down to the floor, as though measuring his weight, with ease akin to that of lifting a piece of paper. He also

"We should find a place to properly interrogate him" he said, looking to Kristen and Khorvayne. "We can't in good conscience do it in his very own house, now, can we?" he added, purporting to be a conscientious voice of reason.

But he was indeed right. It wouldn't look too good if a servant, or the steward, walked in on them interrogating their lord. It would cause their mission to become nastier than it need be, since they'd have to find a way to silence the witness, which from Dauner's understanding of Kristen, would be a huge no-no.

Before that, though, Dauner needed a replacement for the marquis, for as long as they'd be needing him. Though he'd originally said that it didn't matter much, it would still be quite inconvenient should the marquis' disappearance be found out too soon.

Out of his jacket, he pulled a scarecrow, he'd prepared the night before, and placed it on the Marquis' bed. He then pulled out a crystal from his jacket, and murmured a few unintelligible words, causing the crystal to light up.

"Catch" he called out to Kristen, throwing the crystal over. He had just set up a magic masking formation in the room, with the crystal as its core. Though it was rather crude and thus unable to hide strong magic signatures, it would suffice for the spell he had in mind.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

We can't in good conscience do it in his very own house, now, can we?

"Quite right," Kristen concurred. First and foremost in her mind was the catastrophe of Salesia, and how desperately she wanted to avoid another occurrence of anything like that. They were here in Ashol to stop that madman Titus, not to butcher yet another manor full of people.

Of course, getting the unconscious body out of the manor...might be challenging? But Dauner didn't mention a problem without posing a solution, and from his jacket he produced one.

Catch.

Caught a bit off guard, and still to a significant degree shaken by the brief encounter with the Marquis, Kristen nearly fumbled her catch, the crystal bouncing here and there between her palms, proving most elusive until at last she firmly clasped her hands about it. The crow at the window cocked its head, peering in at the crystal, and a subtle flash of teal swept over its eyes; Khorvayne seemed to like it. At least she wasn't engaging in some unnecessary provocations or anything like that.

Holding the crystal steady in both hands as if it were most fragile, Kristen asked of Dauner, "What did you have in mind?"

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

Dauner looked on, almost with worry, as Kristen fumbled to catch the crystal. It definitely wasn't glass, so he didn't worry about it breaking. But the enchantment he'd just enshrined into it was makeshift at best. Weak and unstable. A strong impact could very well break it.

“Good question” he remarked to Kristen, as a dark silhouette rose from his shadow, its form slowly taking shape. A creature of pure darkness, akin to a void. As the shadow took form, it became clear that it was a creature of pure night, like the absence of moonlight in the sky. It was Dauner's most perfect creation. A shadow demon. A creature of the night, best suited for such schemes that only leave behind bodies, their cause of death forever uncertain.

Dauner had first created them back in Segora, but back then they were just shadows. It wasn't until after spending time in the void that he recreated them, with new understanding. Their main downside, though, was that they were pretty dumb, and were unable to think for themselves, or react to changes in the world around them. Dauner had thought of hunting people and using their souls to build up his demons' intelligence, but there really wasn't any urgency in making a decision. This lack of intelligence wasn't going to be a major problem for what he had in mind, though.

The shadow bent its knee before Dauner. “I'm going to need you to take possession of that scarecrow” he said. The demon wasted no time carrying out the order, embodying the scarecrow on the bed.

Dauner took a step back and uttered more unintelligible sounds. And nothing happened. At least nothing visual. Though no one could see it, anyone with a sense for magic, would feel it. Which was what the crystal was for. Now, no one beyond the room would be able to feel it.

On the bed, the scarecrow, slowly changed, becoming indifferentiable from the Marquis. The change wasn't really physical, but more of an illusion, strong enough to fool all five senses on any ordinary man. Dauner pulled the blanket over the body, and took the crystal back from Kristen.

“Thank you” he said, as he proceeded to scrub it vehemently on his jacket, and then blowing on it, the light, and colour, fading as he did. He then cast another spell, this time with just a single word they all knew. “Anchor”. The crystal's colour changed yet again, as Dauner, slowly placed it beneath the Marquis' bed.

“Now, before we leave, I'd like to make sure we don't have any questions we'd rather not leave unanswered by this point” he said, looking to Kristen and Khorvayne.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

What could Kristen say, other than the truth of the sight of Dauner's shadow minion? It made her uneasy. Despite her best friend in the Academy, Delaney Lennox, also harboring shadow-based magic, still the sight could never be lessened to anything more benign than disquiet. Khorvayne, Kristen knew for a fact without even needing to see her human face, loved it, because of course she did. Kristen would have to content herself that Dauner, like those few others she knew, was utilizing such power for good.

The illusion was in place—enough to buy them all the time they would need before any well-meaning servants worked up the nerve to physically check their lord's health.

Now, before we leave, I'd like to make sure we don't have any questions we'd rather not leave unanswered by this point.

Khorvayne, in her crow form, swiped her head back and forth. No.

Kristen took in a breath and let it out. "Let us be done with this, and all the better the sooner such unpleasant business is concluded."

Even though Kristen hardly felt sympathy for the Marquis, especially if he was the one involved with Titus, still, conducting an interrogation on an unwilling subject was an ugly task. There was a reason that tales of glory, honor, and heroism excluded such things as this.

If nothing else, at least it would be a comfort to change out of this outfit! Pah, likely it was that the Marquis himself personally selected the uniform for all of his maidservants to wear, revealing as they were, tip-toeing as closely as they could that line between the acceptable and the salacious.

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

With everything at the manor, complete, it was time to bail. Dauner could just leave through the shadows again, while Khorvayne flew out through the window. But Kristen was, unfortunately, not going to be having it as easy. She would need to not raise any alarm, which meant she needed to use the front door. Whether by making up an excuse as to why she has to leave early, or by any other means she might think of.

“I probably should have thought of a way to get Kristen out without raising any concerns” he murmured. He had actually thought of a way. But, well, he was the devil. That might probably be the best explanation for his next action. “Welp! Good luck with formulating an exit plan. We'll be waiting for you at the Inn” he finished.

As soon as Dauner was done talking, he sunk into his shadow, so fast, you would think the very ground beneath his feet had parted. And just like that, he was gone. But out of caution, he had left a shadow demon in Kristen's shadow, without her knowledge. Just a safety measure, should things go south. However, to Kristen, it would appear as though Dauner had abandoned her to a fate, that would be dictated by how good of a plan she could concoct. A sort of betrayal, if you will.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"Wait, wait, wai—!"

Kristen's urgent, hissed whispers were to no avail. Dauner, using one of the many tricks of his magic, was gone, and Khorvayne as well had simply flown away. All that remained in the room was the illusion of the Marquis upon the bed and quite a lot of awkward silence.

Snickerdoodle! Why, oh why, would Dauner just do such a thing? Did Khorvayne have a hand in this!? Whispering subversive little suggestions seemed a thing all to suited to a woman of her like. She ought to have a word or two with that sorceress, if only to remind her that her presence was not enjoyed but merely tolerated by virtue of a common enemy and a mutually beneficial arrangement!

But now the heart of the problem: how best to extricate herself from this predicament. Betraying her disguise by the use of her magic would not only render the hitherto covert efforts meaningless, but would on a larger scale make everything worse. So as but a humble servant girl, Kristen would have to make her escape.

The first thing she did...was finish wiping down the windows of the manor. She told herself it was to not raise any suspicions, to simply proceed as ordered by the Steward, but the fact she knew for the honest truth was that, if she had gone to the Steward and he pressed her on whether or not it was actually done, she would've told him a flimsy lie and certainly botched said lie's delivery. Whatever her next task would be, surely she could devise some appropriate plan!

Her hopes sank when the Steward, upon asking him, said, "Into the kitchen with you!" Blessed Aionus, the kitchen! Oh, but the fortune had abandoned her! It would have been perfect had she been tasked with the garden now and the kitchen first! And worst of all, she couldn't cook! Though she fancied learning how, all the cooking in the Pirian Estate had of course been done by servants just like the ones here in this estate.

How could she possibly get out of here before nightfall?

* * * * *​

There came at the Inn room a knocking at the door, some hour and perhaps thirty minutes after Dauner and Khorvayne's departure from the manor. Khorvayne, sat with her legs crossed upon the room's bed, mused, "Oh, I wonder who it could be."

The other side of the door, once opened, would reveal Kristen, looking like a puppy that had been kicked in the ribs. On her servant's outfit was a big dark stain of something, her forehead now sported a large and nasty looking bump, and she held her left hand tenderly with her right.

"I...had to improvise," she would say, looking almost apologetic.

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

Having returned to the hotel room earlier, Dauner had ample time to prepare the Marquis for interrogation, while awaiting Kristen's return. He tied the man to a chair, and cast a sedation spell on him, to make sure he didn't wake up until Kristen returned. Dauner then lay on the bed. It looked like he was going to be waiting for quite some time. He'd content himself with making small talk with Khorvayne.

---

An hour and a half after their departure from the manor, Kristen came knocking at the door. Dauner, feeling a little chaotic, would approach Khorvayne, and tap on his cheek.

“Would you mind giving me a kiss, Vey?” he'd request. He wasn't really after a kiss. That was just an added bonus. He was looking to get a lipstick mark on his cheek.

Dauner would then take his jacket and shirt off, before answering the door. Sometimes, he just felt like messing with heads, and Kristen's, was quite fun to mess with.

“Oh! You're back!” he'd comment upon noticing her at the door, before opening it wide to let her in, and closing it behind her. “I must say. You certainly are a different breed from most nobles I've met in my lifetime. And that's a long time” he continued, as he made a show of putting his shirt and jacket back on. “They usually don't particularly take kindly to doing chores themselves. And they'd definitely have punched me in the face the moment I opened that door” he added.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"How could I deny you?" Khorvayne cooed, obliging him as soon as he presented his cheek. And, quickly deducing the reason for Dauner's shedding of garb, she set about flinging off her shoes, swiping off one of her dress's shoulder-straps such that it would suggestively dangle, and giving her hair a little messy tussle.

The door was opened, and Kristen was able to speak her four words before the peculiarities of the situation inside the room started to settle in. She looked from Dauner, to Khorvayne, and back to Dauner, both of them putting on select pieces of clothing, and the former with dark lipstick clinging coyly to one cheek.

Dauner's words washed over Kristen as she stood there, flatly unamused.

"No need to look so dreary, Kristen," Khorvayne said with a seditious cheer.

"I hope I am not interrupting anything. May I come in?" Kristen said—ironically echoing Khorvayne's very own words spoken earlier in the day.

Dauner

 

[Dauner]

He didn't get punched, and to Dauner that sounded like a win. He smirked, as he finished putting his jacket back on.

“Of course not” Dauner responded. “There is hardly anything left to interrupt. The bulk of the fun has already passed over that last hour. Too little time in my opinion” he added, intentionally echoing his response to Khorvayne earlier that morning. The fact that he gave the same response to the two of them, despite nothing having happened with either one, felt like such a shame. He would have much preferred giving the response after having done something. But Kristen would never give in to such temptation, lest he used methods he was most unwilling to, and Khorvayne… Well, there was just not enough time, and he didn't trust himself enough to keep it under an hour.

“Very well” he said, walking over to the marquis. He clapped his hands, and a magic wave erupted from it, setting up a sound nullification barrier around the room. “This might get loud” he continued. “I think it's time for an interrogation” he said, slapping the marquis awake. He then turned to Kristen. “I'll leave the questions to you” he finished.

It was her quest after all, but most importantly, Dauner wanted to see Just what method of interrogation Kristen would use. Thus far, she'd seemed like nothing but an angel, but it was Dauner's belief that where ever there was light, there existed a darkness. That was what he was looking to discover now.

---

Kristen Pirian​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen shuffled inside the room, unamused by the antics no doubt perpetrated by that witch of a woman, Khorvayne. There was no such thing as "too soon" for the departure of her presence! That smug coil of a smile she seemed to ceaselessly wear grated ever more on Kristen's patience, and the only comfort she could find was the thought that one day, bidden to such madness as Titus himself perhaps, Khorvayne would invite her own demise.

Kristen had to get all of that out of her head. Focus. And some treatment for the bump on her head, for the nasty cut on her flesh and blood hand, both of which she had incurred during her improvised exit from the kitchen (being hounded out by Steward Harrison all the way), would have to wait for a while. She'd a makeshift bandage over her hand at least, so that would have to do.

Dauner cast a spell, one that changed the very nature of sound within the room, making every noise (including that hard slap) feel smaller, confined, trapped—nothing would escape. And now Kristen found herself looking into the alert and wide-awake face of the Marquis, and in truth...she had never done anything like this before. Following the path of her god, being a Sentinel in his image and fighting against armed and dangerous foes like those Desecrators, like Naya Indigo, that was easy—even if the Kristen of scarcely two years ago would have balked in fright at the notion. This? A man, depraved or not, bound to a chair? She knew it was to be ugly, this business, that it would likely be more than merely questions to retrieve from the Marquis the answers they needed. There would be no glory in it, despite the good she and Dauner ultimately sought.

"I can conjure any implements you might like," Khorvayne offered helpfully.

Kristen ignored her. Standing before the Marquis, staring sternly down at him, she began: "You are not our enemy, but behind you our enemy stands. Perhaps you have pledged yourself to him willingly, perhaps you are nothing more than an unwitting puppet. Know that there is no escape from this room, and from the woeful situation in which you now find yourself, until we are satisfied with what answers you provide."

Small and easy, at first. Questions whose answers they already knew. "What is your name, and what is your present business here in Ashol?"

Dauner