Dreadlords Prisoners Dilemma

[Wilhelm Anireth]

Wil resisted the urge to look at the ring on his finger. He knew the sorcerer within had promised him access to the large swathe of magic he possessed in return for a host of sorts, but he hadn't ever pushed the limits of what that magic was to something like flying or stepping through shadows. Was that even possible? He dare not ask in case the sorcerer got it into his head that was a fine idea in order to escape that pesky ghost girl.

"Great," he sighed glumly and took back the bottle of whisky to take a long drag straight from the bottle. "So... you don't want to be here?" he asked cautiously. Maybe if he could get Edric to give him a lift on the way out... he might not be able to talk to trees but they didn't seem to bother him when they... you know... stabbed him.

He held the bottle out to the dreadlord.

 

[Edric]

Edric grabbed the bottle from his companion, taking it and almost immediately touching his lips to take another solid glug of the amber liquid. "I don't know what the fuck I want, Wil."

He declared freely.

"I was trained for seventeen years to be pointed towards something to murder and then murder it." Edric's tongue was becoming decidedly loose as he continued this venture. "Then, some twit and his wife get the idea to revolt against the Houses, and suddenly I'm at dances making people cry in new ways."

The young Dreadlord didn't bother explaining what that meant. "Then, some crazy powerful Archon, probably one of the only beings on this planet capable of killing me, shows up and tells me I could have a choice instead of staying in a place where I had none."

He shrugged, glancing down at the bottle in his hand.

"I then see a good chunk of the only people I've ever known go with him, and well fuck me If I hadn't started caring about a few of them." Edric gestured to the fortress, taking another drink before offering the bottle back to Wil. "So I come here, intent on bringing them back, only to find myself realizing that back home may have fucked me over even more than I realized, my response to which was to fuck myself over more by killing a few dozen...whatevers."

Nobles? That was the word he thought, but as he leaned against the gatehouse he found himself not really caring all that much. "Truth is, I don't really give a shit about any of this. Vel Anir, Dreadlords, Republics and Archons. All of it can go burn for all I care."

Slowly he slid down the wall until he was sitting.

"But I don't know..." He frowned. "I don't know what else I can do."

 

[Duncan]

Duncan smiled at Chasmine. It was a soft, sweet smile, though one tinged with perhaps unwelcome pity. "That is because for much of your life, you had your voice taken away."

The Dreadlord said softly, his smile faltering as the sorrow showed through.

It was clear that his words were no manipulation, at least not this time. Whatever their methods were, their goals were true. At least for Duncan. He could not truly know anyone else's mind. He was not Amelie or Nathanial, and the spells he knew to do such things were far too...dark for his liking.

Shaking the brief thought, Duncan continued.

"You have an understanding and knowledge of the veil that would make most scholars green with envy." He complemented, his smile returning. "And besides that, you have a penchant for understanding and empathy that many of us lack entirely."

'Us', meaning Dreadlords of course. Though he knew Chasmine's objection was mostly about Wil's own...obtuse nature. Though he could hardly blame the boy for that. "I suspect, much like yourself and Edric."

And himself for that matter. "That he has not been given much choice in his life. So we will offer him one, even If it turns it away."

"Over the last few years, I have found that simply starting a conversation works half the time." Although, usually there was no kidnapping involved.

 

[Chasmine]

If she should have been flattered by the compliments, Chasmine failed in that conversational moment. Understanding the veil and spectral subjects of the world were consequence to a state of being that was completely out of her control. Duncan might as well have told her she knew more about being dead than most experts of death.

"And what choice will we offer him?" she asked quietly.

 

[Wilhelm Anireth]

Wil hadn't expected the spilling of Edric's soul but here they were. There were several times when he opened his mouth to ask what something he said meant, or what had happened, then seemed to wisely think it would be better off for his stomach if he didn't know. Clearly he needed to drink more.

"Just fuck off somewhere, the world's a big place," he waved a hand out towards the forest. "I hear there's some sort of paradise islands out near the Trident. Meant to be full of beautiful women, I'm sure there's a few orcs too if err.. that's your think."

 

[Edric]

Pressing his back against the wall, Edric frowned for a brief moment. "Yeah."

He said, tipping his head to the side and shrugging his shoulders.

"It's not like anyone's stopping me." Edric said, repeating an oft-repeated phrase by both Duncan and Gilram. They had both made it clear that if he wanted to go, he could go at any time. So why not go? Didn't have to be the Trident, or wherever Wil was talking about. But could be elsewhere. "Maybe I will."

The rogue Dreadlord said, pressing his thumbs together. "Maybe I will."

Edric repeated cryptically.

 

[Duncan]

Duncan grinned. "Put simply my dear; carrot or stick."

The choice was quite easy on Wil's part. Either he could act his age and try to have a conversation, or they could tie down the spirit inside of him and wrestle the ring from his finger.

Either way they'd get what they wanted.

"Let's just hope Edric hasn't absconded with the boy." Duncan said with a sigh. "One can never know what to expect from that particular chaos gremlin."

 

[Chasmine]

"Oh," said Chasmine in response, a beat and then, quietly to herself, "I do not think we have any carrots in the kitchen..." There were, however, sticks a-plenty to choose from. She didn't understand the analogy, but she did know for certain that Edric had not gone far.

"Mmm..." her gaze shifted off slowly in the direction from which she could sense his presence. Her bond with Edric made little sense, but she'd not spoken of this new connection to Duncan or Gilram. "I can look for him."

Coming and going through the forest was not easy for the living, so she doubted the Prince would put himself in harms way when he was safer staying here than he was trying to escape. She did not wait for Duncan's response, dissipating from sight and moving off through the stone ruins of their hidden citadel.

In the silence that followed Edric and Wil's conversation, she returned to the amulet hung around his neck and settled her cold presence there without any initial words. Usually Duncan wore the amulet, but Ed still had it from the mission and it had become something of a resting place for her. He hadn't gotten rid of it yet, so he must not have minded carrying a ghost around with him too much.

 

[Wilhelm Anireth]

When Edric offered nothing more - and Wil waited a whole... oh thirty seconds - he gave that type of sigh most cultured guests knew meant 'time to go'.

"Well, that bottle's over. I'm just going to grab another one..." he had no plans to wait for Edric to figure out how he was leaving and beg a lift off with him. If he could slip away maybe he could take his chances with the forest. The sorcerer seemed to like him enough to keep him alive for the moment so he reckoned his chances were rather decent odds. Something he would at least put money on.

Leaving Edric to his thoughts, he slipped off back towards the bar.