Private Tales The First Masque

[Amelie]

There wasn't any such thing as a perfect job. At every step there was always something that would go awry. What had separated Erodin apart from the other young Dreadlords pledged to Virak was his ability to work through those missteps. Punch through all the convolution to assess the heart of the problem and disentangle it.

It was what had drawn Amelie to him. It was why they operated so perfectly in sync.

"Oh, my dear, let's get you outside," her voice was panicked and filled with the concern of a stereotypical Obanese housewife. A shoulder bracing him and lifting him upwards on the path near the closest exit.

A door flooded open and the pair found themselves in the coolness of night. Almost immediately Amelie dug a hand into her bag and took out a cigarette, lighting it with a match while casting a guilty look towards her partner. "I'm quitting."

A bad habit she'd picked up while stationed in that one-horse mining town.

Out here away from the chorus of minds in the gala she could focus. Be one with the evening, feel the cold air encircle her flesh, and then focus in on the bellhops and manor attendants. "The guest rooms are near the westside of the building."

A puff of smoke emerged, fluttering through the star-dotted sky, "any ideas how we find our mark?"

Sure, Amelie could prance around the perimeter of the manor and they may get lucky but it'd take ages. If there wasn't still the possibility that posing as nobles might be the best course of action she would've suggested they go find new clothing. But, if they needed to, she'd simply rip apart the dress she wore to give her the mobility needed to take down their foes.

 

[Erodin]

"Sure you are." Erodin said with a smile, not reminding Amelie of the three or four times before that she had said the same thing.

His gaze then flickered back up towards the manor.

There were a dozen ways that they could go about it. Some violent, some not so much. Personally he would still prefer to just kill everyone at the party, but as discussed that option had already been lain aside in favor of others.

"The help." He said finally, slowly turning so that he could lean against the railing of the balcony they now found themselves standing on. "One of the servants on the upper levels will know where he's sleeping."

It would mean Amelie would have to go digging, but that wouldn't be too much of an issue. "Then we just wait for him. Kill the Guards and take him."

Getting out of the manor would be fairly difficult, but not impossible for the two of them. Plus, most of the guests would likely be passed out drunk.

"That." Erodin said as he turned towards the expansive acre of land that lay behind the manor. "Or we lure him into the garden."

He said with a shrug. "A pretty face could probably get him anywhere."

And if all else failed, he could just challenge the man to a duel.

 

[Amelie]

Softly, deliberately, she inhaled another tuff of smoke before extinguishing the cigarette between her fingers.

"A pretty face could work," she offered as her nostrils breathed in fresh air to clear the smoke-clogged filth she'd just inhaled. "Do you happen to know his type?"

Amelie didn't particularly like taking over someone else's body. It was magically quite taxing and it left her own body in a vulnerable state. Less of a concern with Erodin here to watch over her but a handicap all the same.

A scowl came over her as she thought harder on the subject. "Maybe facing the problem head-on is a safer bet though." Ultimately she lacked the appropriate information to make such a judgement call. It had been her partner who'd spent a chunk of the evening getting to know the prince and being close enough to evaluate his bodyguards.

If getting the man into the garden was the safest bet they merely needed to pick out a woman who suited the prince. If the security were dispatched easily enough all they had to do was go in with blades unsheathed.

"Either way we need to know where he sleeps."

A slight pause followed as she waited for his response but her steps made it obvious she was ready to burrow into the minds of the serving staff to uncover his location. It was step one regardless of the path they took.

 

[Erodin]

Erodin watched Amelie carefully as she spoke, noting the slight tension that flickered through her at the thought of having to take over someone else's mind completely.

He well knew of her discomfort with doing so. It was a handy trick, but the state it left her in one was of distinct discomfort. Even with him watching over her, it was dangerous, and there was still the fact of the null around the Prince.

That could perhaps affect the process as well.

After a few seconds the Rogue Dreadlord stepped towards his Beloved. He gently cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb over her skin. "We take him in his room."

Erodin decided. He would not have her go through a trial that she did not need to. Not when the only barrier was Gilram's request that they do this quietly. Amelie's comfort was worth far more to him than the old Archon's instructions.

No doubt the man would buck when the two of the returned, but it was a price Erodin was more than willing to pay.

"The maids will be scurrying around the upper floors." Getting the bedrooms ready for the guests who would be staying. "We'll use them to find his room, then take the one next to it."

Whoever occupied it at the time could be dealt with, and then they only had to wait for the Prince. From there things would get more complicated, but they were Dreadlords. A single foreign Prince and his two Guards wouldn't pose them much threat.

 

[Amelie]

”Alright.”

It was impossible for her to hide the slight grin she wore. Feeling Erodin’s caress, knowing that he’d succumbed to an arguably worse strategy purely for her benefit. Yet still she tired to hide it, she tried to pretend that storming the Foreign Prince’s room was the logical decision.

The maid’s were as logical a decision as any. A simple stroll through a hallway and they’d know everything they wished. Where their target slumbered, where any other notable men or women were assigned to sleep, the gossip of the manor, all things that were important to know for a fledgling revolution.

Amelie nodded her agreement. ”Yes, let’s get going,” she hesitated for a moment as she considered the weight of the dagger sheathed against her leg, underneath a hefty layer of fabrics, ”should we find more appropriate clothing?”

She certainly loved the idea of seeing Erodin disrobe but more importantly she wanted to ensure they were dressed for the occasion.

There was a time and place for noble attire but the clothing didn’t bode well for combat or easy access to weaponry.

 

[Erodin]

He considered for a brief moment before answering. "I suppose we should."

The clothes they were wearing were hardly fight for fighting. His own would due in a pinch, but the dress Amelie wore? If the Prince's bodyguards were worth anywhere near their weight he certainly wouldn't want to fight them in it.

Better to have some maneuverability.

"I should have brought alternatives." He remarked quietly, more cursing himself than anything else. Erodin hated being ill-prepared, but unfortunately they had left all their things back in the hotel.

Oh well.

Quickly the two Rogue Dreadlords made their way back into the manor. This time though they didn't move towards the main hall, instead Erodin lead the way through the winding halls towards the back of the estate. Eventually finding what he was looking for; the servant's quarters.

Entirely devoid of any life the small alcove contained ten rooms, each one holding two small beds a wardrobe, and other small functionaries. "We should be able to find something here."

Erodin said as he began to strip off his clock.

 

[Amelie]

Amelie paid him a smile as he beat himself up over attire. "It's fine. I rather enjoy to picking out whatever rags we stumble upon." It wasn't a jest, she truly did like stepping into the clothing choices of their lessers.

For someone who invaded minds she found trying on an outfit often gave insights few other experiences could.

Waltzing through the manor in their noble attire, for example, meant that nearly everyone in the servant's quarters paid them mind. Moved out of their way, nodded with reverence, possibly even whispered to others about their presence after they were no longer within earshot.

"Good find," she said to Erodin as much as she said to herself whilst he undressed.

Opening up the wardrobe revealed several different options. All made from cotton in various shades of white, tans, browns, and grays. Amelie grabbed shirts and trousers, all gray. Then pointed towards various pairs of sandals and dark overcloaks that hung off the wall.

With their new attire found she didn't waste a second getting out of the aristocratic dress she'd worn for the evening.

No delicacy or attempts to salvage it, she merely ripped the bottom layers off as quickly as she could manage, removing the dagger holster from her thigh only after the layers had created a pile of fluff at her feet. A few moments later she was fully dressed in the plain ashen-gray servant outfit, an overcloak draping behind her, and her dagger affixed at her waist.

"The third floor is where the more important guests are staying, perhaps we begin there?" She traced a finger down his arm as she spoke, "Should move quickly from here on out."

They'd likely be invisible now to the other servants, just another hired hand that could be ignored, but if they stumbled into any location reserved for nobility they'd stick out like a sore thumb.

 

[Erodin]

It didn't take long for Erodin to find something for himself.

Drab, white, and ill-fitting, the servants clothes were a perfect mask. They had been taught long ago that the nobility didn't tend to look at 'lessers', unless they were supposed to be somewhere they shouldn't have been of course.

A smile colored his face as her touch gently trailed down his arm. "You know, I almost prefer these bleak rags to the fluff."

Erodin remarked, glancing down at her destroyed dress down on the floor.

Both of them ultimately preferred something more utilitarian than these outfits, of course, but at least in servants rags he didn't feel like a puffed up peacock. He would be glad when this slew of missions was over and he could return to wearing simple steel on the battlefield.

He sighed, and then leaned over to press a gentle kiss against her lips. Taking in the small quiet moment before finally agreeing.

"Let's be gone, then." Erodin remarked as he gently ran his fingers over her skin, fighting temptation before he turned and bent down. Grasping the remnants of their clothes and throwing them atop the large wardrobe.

Hardly the most safe hiding place, but he doubted anyone would discover it before they bade their leave of the estate.

Before long, the two Rogue Dreadlords were creeping to the back of the Manor. Taking a tight servant's stairway passed the second floor and towards the third. The further they went, the more distant the music of the grand hall sounded. Before long all they could hear was their own quiet steps on the old stairway.

 

[Amelie]

"You look good in the fluff," she teased whilst the pair finished getting ready and began to head towards the third floor. Climbing a spiraling set of stairs that deposited into a tiny room used to store bedding materials.

No doubt the door before them lead to the lush hallway of the third floor of the estate where they'd stick out in their new attire.

Underneath one of her arms Amelie grabbed ahold of a few pillows while handing a folded blanket over to Erodin. "To blend in."

Without any further conversation she turned the knob and walked out into the hallway. The carpet was just as pristine and elaborate as she imagined, the corridor decorated by elegant wallpaper, and every other golden sconce flickered with candlelight.

After only a few paces they encountered an elderly woman armed with the same kinds of bedding that the pair carried. Her wrinkled face eyed the two ex-Dreadlords suspiciously at first before some sort of realization dawned inside of her head. "Ah, you two's also getting summoned there? I swears that so-called prince is demanding."

Amelie gave a simple, servant-appropriate, nod. "Yes ma'am, we're heading there right now."

"No harm in makin' him wait a bit. Could use the help of two younger folks, I'm having to clean a mess in the privy chamber right afters I drop these off for Lord Gormant."

 

[Erodin]

Erodin looked over at Amelie with no small amount of disgust. Dropping the blanket onto the floor with a shake of his head. He reached out, the woman flinching back but not fast enough that she could get away from his grasp. "Yeah, we're not doing that."

"What are yo-"​

"Keldir." The word echoed from his lips, seeming to resound between them. Then a pulse ran from his fingers. For a second her entire body seemed to shimmer. Her eyes opened wide and her lips parted as though she were about to scream, but the only sound that escaped her throat was a strangled cry.

Something ran over her eyes, a thin glow, and then it disappeared. Her body collapsed, which Erodin caught with a surprising gentleness. Then he lowered her to the ground, placing her against the wall before pulling himself up.

Amelie would recognize the simple sleep spell of course. "Her soul wasn't worth taking."

Erodin said in 'explanation', as he stood up. Though the both of them knew that he had a small soft spot for the truly innocent. Those who could claim never to have harmed or done a misdeed. Glorious fools who thought the world wasn't as shit as it actually was.

The former Dreadlord rolled his shoulders and gestured down the hall.

"Shall we, my love?" A smile sprung on his lips, and a glow would begin to touch his eyes. Whispering blue smoke slowly beginning to rise from his body. "

 

[Amelie]

"We shall." A matching smile arose as she bore into the mind of the elderly woman he'd just knocked unconscious, a far easier task when a subject couldn't resist. After a half-second she looked at the smokey-blue man before her. "Room 349."

That was where they'd find the prince with his most trusted bodyguard. And right across the hall from that, "Two of them are in room 350, across the hall."

Of course, there was no telling if all four were currently inhabiting one room or the other, all milling about or playing cards or whatever simpletons like them did.

And if they assumed they were separated it asked a completely different question, where should they strike first? Too much commotion and they may alert the other room if their four prey were separated. It was a real conundrum that would only be exacerbated if whatever had nullified her magic earlier was still in effect.

Regardless, she accompanied Erodin down the hallway, dropping the pillows she carried and removing all pretense that they were servants.

The unconscious woman in the hall would ensure their cover was blown if anyone managed to spot them anyway.

 

[Erodin]

The two Rogue Dreadlord's moved with all the confidence of Kings. The masks they had worn now dropped away each step in their stride saw more of their true gait take hold.

By the time they turned the final corner towards room 350 and 349, the Erodin and Amelie did not look like the servants they dressed at. It was the way they carried themselves, how they moved, as though nothing and no one could stand in their way.

It was that very walk which almost instantly gave them away.

A man, one of the Guards Erodin knew, stood in front of room three forty nine. His back was straight, and now no longer on the dancefloor a sword hung at his side. He turned his head, spying the two 'servants' as they approached.

Yet the moment he saw their walk, the very second he noticed how they held themselves, his hand snapped to his sword.

By then it would already be too late though. A pulse ran through the subtle glow in Erodin's eyes, and as the guard turned to face Amelie and her beloved a ghostly apparition suddenly appeared behind the man. The spirit appeared cloaked, a mask covering his face, a dagger in his hand.

The smokey blue blade stabbed through the Guards throat. Piercing through flesh like solid steel, and rendering the man mute. His hands snapped to his neck almost instantly, confusion and fear entering his eyes as the life slowly left them.

Body slumping to the floor as the ghostly assassin slowly lowered him to the floor.

 

[Amelie]

It was nearly impossible to refrain from grinning as Erodin easily felled the guard that stood in their way. With his death the prince they sought was almost certainly inside of room three forty nine and as the man was killed so quietly it would likely be a simple task to take the prince hostage now.

If the other two men within his party came out of their rooms they'd just dispatch of them as well.

With one fluid motion Amelie twisted the knob of the hotel door and swung it open violently. The pair of Dreadlords entered the room quickly, like a mirage of movement, and then the door was shut and locked with a twist of her wrist.

The prince was lying on a bed with gold-colored sheets accompanied by a half-dressed woman. Obviously he and his friend were preparing to engage in, or just finishing, some carnal act. His eyes widened at the sudden interruption before a smile formed on his face.

"Ah, my friend! Did you bring me another woman to-"​

Reality dawned on the prince of Neus as he read the pair's demeanor and his gaze shifted towards a knife upon his nightstand. Before he pry his arm from underneath his lady friend Amelie moved in like a leopard and landed her palm upon the hilt of the blade.

"Shh," she said with a finger pressed against her own lips. "Stay silent and we may spare your life." Her darkened pupils trailed over to the woman by the prince's side, knowing that there was no fate ahead of them which spared the scantly clad lady of the night.

 

[Erodin]

"What is the meaning of thi-" The Prince began to shout, his voice raising and he called out in utter fury.

Yet a hand silenced him before he could continue.

A blue and ghostly palm that seemed to appear from nothing, trapping his voice behind his lips. Eyes darted down almost immediately, panic flickering through him as he tried to understand how a hand had simply appeared upon his lips.

The woman besides did not receive the same treatment, but when she spotted the ghostly appendage upon her lover her lips parted in an ear splitting scream.

It was not a cry to give warning or balk against Amelie's command, but a simple reaction of the fear which now claimed her. Erodin let out a curse, and then a snap rang out as a blueish figure appeared behind the woman and twisted her head with a savage frivolity.

Behind his ghostly gag the Prince shouted something, but it was lost in translation. "They'll have heard that."

Erodin said, grimacing as he turned, already hearing steps beyond the door.

 

[Amelie]

Amelie had been too late.

It wasn't really her fault, as fast as she could move her body Erodin's magic was nearly always quicker. The snap of the wench's neck had come quicker than her attempt to thrust a blade into the woman's jugular and it was her lover's words that jarred her attention back towards the entrance.

"We kill them too," a muffled sound from the prince erupted from underneath the hand that held his lips tightly shut.

The rogue Dreadlord placed herself right beside the door in a position so that she'd be concealed once it flung open. Those footsteps reached their climax before the door erupted open and two bulky figures she'd seen downstairs rushed in to witness their prince being held down and gagged by a ghoulish form.

Her palm braced against the wooden door she lunged forward, plunging the knife she'd taken from the nightstand inbetween the scapula of the large man nearest her. It buried deep enough to ensure he'd bleed out, if he didn't die immediately, and she kicked at the back of his knees to ensure he fell forwards.

Amelie pulled a thin dagger off the holster affixed at her hip with her free hand and attempted to shove it into the second man's throat only to find the blade suddenly cease.

Irises widened as the tip of her weapon collided with a shimmering sensation and she noticed one of the man's rings began to glow a pale green. Backing away quickly she offered Erodin a word of advice, "forcefield."

 

[Erodin]

"I could say I'm sorry, but I would be lying." Erodin said to the Prince with a wide smile as he slowly turned around. The prince shifted, as if about to move, and then a dozen more hands fell upon him. Holding him in place with strength enough to stop an Ogre.

As Amelie positioned herself by the door, Erodin moved towards the wall by the bed, leaning against it and crossing his arms.

He did so love to watch her work.

It was always a sight, and this time was no different. With all the elegance of a Tyrian Dancer Amelie launched herself forward. Sinking her blade into one man and sending him to the floor before he ever had a chance to think or react.

Her hand flickering up to send her second blade into the other Guard's throat before it came to a sudden stop. His eyes opened wider for just a brief second, flickering down to the soft pallid glow of the ring on his hand.

The man let out a roar, and then launched himself at Amelie. His hands suddenly shifting and another of the rings morphing. Steel suddenly covering his fist.

Within the span of a breath, another figure appeared in front of Erodin's beloved. This one was a massive orc, dwarfing even the guard. The Prince's would be defender had no time to stop, and went slamming into the apparition whose arms reached out and grasped the man. Pushing back against him and locking him in an embrace.

Then another figure suddenly appeared, the guard letting out a curse. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

He demanded, but it was already too late. The second ghost reaching over and grasping the guard's wrist, and hand, slowly and forcibly peeling the rings from his fingers one by one.

 

[Amelie]

The smirk upon her face only widened as the apparition of an orc began to peel rings off the bodyguard's fingers.

One after another they clanked upon the ground, rushing under the bed or clanging against the wall. His face was a combination of terror and confusion as the spectral form before him held him in place and kept stripping away every piece of jewelry worn on both hands.

Honestly the process took far longer than Amelie would've anticipated.

Never in her life had she seen any Anirian noble wear quite so much jewelry as these so-called warriors from Neus. But, she supposed, if one wasn't born with magic clinging to any sort of superstition might make more sense.

"Great."

A sarcastic comment after the last of the adornments were disposed of she slowly crept forwards, placing herself between the bonded prince and the bodyguard still held in place by the orc her beloved had summoned. "Now then, your majesty," her words held all the sweetness of a rotten eggplant. "We have a few questions for you."

In a flash of movement she shoved one hand over the captured bodyguard while her dagger was driven inbetween the man's legs, a muffled scream ringing out against the flesh of her palm.

"If you don't wish to suffer the same fate, you'll answer honestly." This time her words contained a hint of honey as she pulled the dagger free and tears ran down the captive guard's cheeks.

 

[Erodin]

For a few seconds Erodin let the Prince simply watch as his bodyguard suffered. His eyes opened wide, his skin turning a pallid white as his head began to do it's best to shift into a nod. Trying to convey desperately that he would cooperate.

A wide smile touched the Rogue Dreadlord's face.

Ah, how much he loved his wife. She really had a way of getting people to come around to their way of thinking. "Good."

With a gesture, the hand across the Prince's mouth simply slipped from existence. A breath immediately surged into the man's throat, but he did not offer a scream or shout, knowing that his fate was already sealed if he tried to do so.

"What..." For a brief second it seemed he was about to question them, but then his mind quickly changed as he glanced down at the dagger in Amelie's hands. "What do you want to know?"

He said, swallowing back any objection. "My wife and I are hardly the sort to favor jewelry."

Erodin said as he began to walk back towards the bed.

"I didn't even get her a wedding ring, you see." Jewelry was a foolish thing to wear into battle, he and Amelie both had tattoos, each a mark of their faith within one another. "But, I've always felt very guilty about it."

He glanced at Amelie. "Look at her, she's beautiful, intelligent, ruthless. She deserves only the best."

The Prince looked between the two Dreadlords, sweat now forming on his brow. "You-you're mad."

A laugh escaped Erodin as he sat himself down on the bed.

"You're not the first to say so, but that doesn't make it any less rude." The Dreadlord commented, shaking his head as he reached out and began to pluck a ring from the man's fingers. "I need you to tell me what each one of these does. Or, my beloved can..."

He glanced over towards Amelie with a smile as he trailed off.

 

[Amelie]

The prince of Neus audibly gulped as his vision danced around the needle-like tip of Amelie’s dagger. Then a ghostly hand pulled off the first of his rings.

“S-supposed to help, h-help, the wearer pass through Hiael.” Hiael, they’d learn, was the place inbetween life and death. The place where those from Neus believed their spirits would travel to reach the afterlife.

He went through a few more rings, one merely bore a familial crest and he was unaware of its power. The next he couldn’t confirm for certain but he was pretty sure it completely prevented hangovers since, according to the prince, he’d never had one ever since obtaining the ring. Then came another whose magic he couldn’t identify, apparently won in a bar fight some time ago.

“Ah, that one allows a man to store knowledge and recall it at a later time,” his voice had grown less afraid and more comfortable with the situation. Bragging about his victories had made him feel at ease. “I killed a scholar who’d insulted my mother to win it.”

For the first time Amelie found herself intrigued. ”As in, you could read a book and store the memories of what you read within the ring with perfect recall at a later time?”

“Precisely.” He was smiling. Their prey was such a buffoon that he was smiling.

”Sounds like a useful little trinket,” she deposited the jewelry into her pocket, the item was the only ring thus far she had a practical use for.

The next ring plucked had a pearlescent sheen and a design that looked like an intricate basket being weaved. This one was dropped into Erodin’s palm by the spectral hand that had yanked it free from the foreign prince’s hand.

The Neus noble’s brows rose. “That one is special. Are you familiar with the flayers of the Neusian swamps?”

Amelie shook her head. ”No, afraid I’m not.”

“Well,” a slight chuckle sprang from the prince’s mouth, “they’re a scattered group of witches. Live out in the marsh. They can turn a man’s mind to mush. That ring blocks their magic in a wide radius around it.”

Her dark irises went wide as she glared at the thing in her husband’s hand. So Gilram hadn’t been aware of it and what’s more whichever artifact they were hunting did not possess the ability to block Amelie’s magic. It was all a big, inconvenient, coincidence. She didn’t need to say a thing to know that she and Erodin would be on the same page. The ring would need to be destroyed.

And one day they’d have to pay the people of Neus a visit to make sure any rings like it were also disposed of.

 

[Erodin]

Erodin gave Amelie a knowing look.

The ring slipped into his pocket, tucked away to later be destroyed. Such things had no place in the same world as his beloved. "And this one?"

He asked, plucking off one of the four remaining rings that still sat upon the Prince's fingers.

It was a plain thing, really, forged of what Erodin would have guessed was silver. The only marking upon it was a small etching on it's inner-band, a sigil which poked at something in the back of his brain. Though he couldn't quite place it.

"Ah! Yes, I remember this one." The Prince mused, as if reliving a happy memory. "I won it from an Anirian many years ago. He was a fierce man, good fighter. I rather liked him."

A frown touched the man's face. "He refused mercy."

The Neusian said to no surprise for Erodin. "What does it do?"

"It is a trinket, nothing more, when one looks through it images appear. I assumed they were of the man's home." A frown touched the Rogue Dreadlord's face, and he glanced over towards Amelie for a moment before bringing the ring up to the Prince's eye. The man frowned for a moment, confused, but of course Erodin was simply testing if the damned thing was trapped.

When the Prince's head didn't end up splattered all over the wall, he moved his palm and gazed through the ring itself.

Within seconds, he saw not the inside of the lustrous bedroom, but instead a beautiful mountain-scape. Tall white peaks rising into the air, rimmed with wondrous fields of green decorated with thousands of flowers. "This is it."

Erodin said suddenly, knowing he was right.

 

[Amelie]

”Good,” the suddenness with which Erodin spoke left no room for guesswork. They’d found the item Gilram had sent them on, his compass or map or whatever the ring truly was.

And her darling husband had been correct, the prince of Neus had no idea what he had. A complete, and total, imbecile.

Amelie wore a leopard’s smile as her focus narrowed in on the captive dignitary.

Still bound by the ghastly appendages that Erodin had summoned he was beginning to look comfortable. Boasting about his conquests, showing off his trinkets, seemingly forgetting that the pair of rogue Dreadlords had just murdered his retinue of protectors. Or perhaps he thought his cocky demeanor was simply the best play here.

”Anything else?”

Her intention was clear, at least to her lover. Did he want any more information from the Neusian prince? Did he have any reason to spare the man’s life? Or could she slit his throat and be done with it?

Alternatively Erodin could simply end the man, it didn’t bother her one way or the other.

The sooner the decision was made the sooner they could be rid of this place and back on the road. Once they had their solitude they could decide what to do with the ring and what its true nature was. Maybe it contained some clue as to what Gilram sought.

 

[Erodin]

Erodin studied the ring for a few more seconds, then flipped it into the air with his thumb and caught it one smooth motion.

Standing from the bed, he half turned towards his beloved. "No, I think we're done here."

He turned back towards the Prince, who seemed more confident than terrified at this point. Either having forgotten what the two Dreadlords had done to his bodyguards in a matter of seconds, or simply feeling as though they wouldn't dare kill him.

Unfortunately for him, Amelie and Erodin didn't like leaving loose ends.

"I'm sure that in another life, at another time we might have been friends." He said with a shrug. "But, well..."

He made a general wave, and then let out a laugh.

The Prince's face contorted for a second, and the realization of what was about to happen finally seemed to dawn on his face. Panic flickered on his features for a brief moment, but by then it was already far too late for him to do anything about it.

 

[Amelie]

"W-wait!" The next noise that came was a wet crack as the arms of the apparitions Erodin had summoned snapped the cartilage and bone in the prince's neck.

Amelie turned on her heel, slitting the throat of the unconscious guard who's manhood she'd butchered before their interrogation, then moving towards the door and moving the chair that had propped it shut. Behind her was a room of horrors with blood spatter coating the walls and carpeting.

They had actually been rather clean, all things considered.

"We should find a ride." Her voice was low as they exited the room and were back in the elegant, unbloodied, hallways of the manor. "Quickly."

Whether they stole horses from a nearby stable or found themselves another carriage driver was irrelevant to her. She was simply ready to get back on the path home. To get alone with Erodin so that they could speak more freely on the subject of the ring they'd retrieved.

And, most importantly, "would be nice to be a few miles out by the time someone finds our friends."

A single glance backwards towards the carnage they'd just left was issued.

 

[Erodin]

Erodin nodded his head in silent agreement with Amelie considering for a moment before gently he tugged her towards one of the rooms at the end of the hall.

He moved with quick purpose, not bothering to knock as his boot raised and slammed into the door. Luckily, no scream echoed from within the room, and as they stepped inside the two Dreadlords would find it empty. Quickly he moved across the room and towards the two glass doors to the balcony.

A flash of light ran over his eyes. "He told us not to slaughter the other nobles."

Erodin contended.

"Gilram said nothing about not making a scene." As he spoke, the air in front of the balcony began to shift and change. It twisted, and this time a ghost slowly began to appear from out of the ether. It came into being as though torn into reality. Slowly revealing massive clawed feet, drawing wisping ghost like scales which eventually formed into a massive set of wings before extending into a huge horned head.

From out of the air itself appeared a dragon. It's hulking form drifting almost lazily over the edge of the balcony. "My darling."

Erodin prompted with a smirk as he stepped out towards the railing, offering Amelie a hand to ascend onto the dragon's back.

 

[Amelie]

A brow was raised at his first words as she wondered whether her lover was contemplating killing a few nobles on the way out. That thought was quickly brushed aside as he continued, however.

Amelie cracked a grin whilst grabbing ahold of his hand and stepping out onto the spirit of the creature he’d summoned.

”You didn’t tell me that you’d taken a dragon,” her coy appearance only grew, ”what else are you hiding from me?”

Had the ring not currently been in his possession she would’ve risked a peek into his mind.

For just a split second, to savor whatever clever quip sprouted up in his thoughts. For now though she merely took a seat upon the spectral dragon’s bag, sitting close to Erodin.

”This will certainly cause a scene.”

Though she was uncertain if it would agitate Gilram or not. Just as she was uncertain which outcome she’d have preferred.