Private Tales The Legend's Heir

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Solgrin

Bandit Chief
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As Solgrin began to help he listened carefully to every word Serafina said.

"Not surprising." He said softly, nodding his head. He'd heard of such practices before. They were disgustingly common in some circles. It took quite a bit to drive it out, at least if one cared to do so. There was always another source, another supplier, another place to put those captured.

"I suspect..." Solgrin frowned, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."

They weren't here to save the city. "The Nobility is on shaky grounds."

He told her.

"Much of the wealth has drained from their coffers." Solgrin explained. "Many of them are seeking beneficial...marriages to save their houses."
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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"I got that sense," Serafina grimaced. At least three of the women had mentioned their own brothers and had insisted they dance with her at the following nights ball. It was going to be a difficult task just trying to get rid of the trail of suitors and their angry female relatives. She rubbed at her temple and then ran her fingers up into her hair to begin undoing the pins that held up her numerous braids.

"I think it might be best to stay in tomorrow?" she asked, hopefully. The city was something she would love to explore, there was no denying that, but not as she was being presented. She wanted to be able to slip through the crowds in her own little world without someone hoping to catch her eye or stop her to make idle chit chat.
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin nodded his head. "Likely."

A hand came up to run through his beard for a few moments. Lips thinned, and he scratched at his chin before he added.

"There's something at play here." He told her. "The moment we entered this city someone had begun to conduct a plan for us, that we don't know about."

Slowly the Bandit Chief posted up against one of the chairs. "It feels as though everyone's a pawn, even those who see themselves as Kings. Someone is going to try to use us, before we can get to what we want."

He could practically feel it in his bones.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera held the loosened corset against her chest and vanished behind the changing screen to disrobe further. She flung the corset over the top of the wooden frame quickly followed by her underdress and a few other bits of lacing she was still convinced hadn't done anything. When she re-emerged it was in a painted silk nightgown and matching robe. She perched on the luxurious bed and begun undoing the braids into her blonde hair fell in waves into her lap.

"I don't think it's the nobility," Sera surprised herself by saying it but... "I got the sense they were desperately trying to hold onto even the pretence they have power here still, but they were all a little too desperate. Like... they almost seemed feverish," that was the best way to describe it.

"But then Violet didn't seem to think so so maybe it's just me," she shrugged.
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin shook his head. "No, you're right."

Violet was a noble, of a sort, but she didn't have the experience in this world that one might suspect. Tel Amos was a very different animal than the small town that Solgrin had plucked the two girls from. Politics were a deadly back and forth.

More so than war, in many ways.

"It's not the nobility, it's the step below them." It always was. "As power slips away, someone else is always going to grab it."

He explained. "The trouble is, we know the nobility. We know the names and the faces, but we don't know the faces below."

Which was of course what made this all the more dangerous.

Plus, there was another thought. One he didn't share with Serafina. There was still one of his companions they did not know the location of one, one former friend whom was the most dangerous of all. What if he was behind this?
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Sera set the silver inlaid brush on the nightstand when she reached stroke 100 and then stifled another yawn.

"That makes sense. When you're further down the ladder all you want is to go up, but once you're at the top the only way is down," though now she had had a taste of the top all she wanted was to slide back down that pole to her place. She'd been lucky with the fact she had grown up with Violet as a sister and had been afforded a touch of luxury others of her class had only dreamed off. Sera peeled back the covers and gladly crawled under.

"Why don't you let some of the others go drinking elsewhere tonight? They're more likely to find out about the lower classes when gambling and dicing than here," her words were growing foggy with sleep now her head had touched the pillow. "They're not going to attack outright here, you said so yourself. They'll be doing their job better doing that than sitting downstairs looking into shadows."
 
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Solgrin

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He frowned for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Good idea."

Solgrin hated the thought of having less guards, but all twenty of them skulking around the hotel would probably be more suspicious than anything else. His hand ran slowly through his hair, eyes closing as he focused for a moment.

"I'll send them out." There was much they didn't know yet.

When they had first arrived Solgrin had believed they'd already had everything they needed to know about Tel Amos, that they would be able to make their way through the murk. Now that things were here...he couldn't help but remember how naive that thought was.

There was always something missing.

Something more to the story. "Get some rest."

He told her softly, pulling himself up from the chair.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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There was a sleepy answer that might have, with some serious interpretation skills, have been classed as a goodnight but before he shut the door behind him the sounds of soft snores had already begun.

Serafina slept - in true ladylike fashion - long in to the morning. If it hadn't of been for Violet yanking open the thick black out curtains to let in a flood of light she might have slept until the ball itself. There was some protesting noises from the bed but her friend crawled into bed with her and the pair giggled over old memories whilst eating warm pastries from the kitchen. It only lasted a while before Violet made her excuses about going to explore the city some more and Sera forced herself finally to go and get dressed. She was just finishing her hair when there was a knock at the door.

"M'lady, there's a visitor here for you. A Master Venrick."
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin knew of course.

There was little in the hotel that could happen now without him knowing. The owner and himself had come to an agreement about things, and even the staff came to him with their little whispers. It was part of the game he was playing, how he would win.

He couldn't conquer all of Tel Amos, not this time, but he had his own ways. Some he'd learned form those he called his foes now, some he knew simply from his own time playing at Court.

As Venrick called upon the Lady of the House Solgrin leaned against one of the pillars within the lobby. He did not wear the armor he had the day before, but was instead adorned in heavy leathers. His shoulders rolled slightly, watching as the young man stood with cane beneath his armpit.

Solgrin weighed him quietly, watching with a careful eye as he paced in waiting.

There was a nervousness to his step, anxiety. Though why it was there Solgrin couldn't be sure.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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They met in what the hotel called the Yellow Room.

Serafina hated it.

The walls were a delicate pale lemon with intricate white murals painted over the top giving it an old, dated look like parchment. Or at least that was her opinion. The curtains were a darker yellow and against the sun looked almost gold. On top of that someone had decided to fill the room with an abundance of plants as though they were in a warm greenhouse and not the south-facing parlour room. Her distaste for the room was only outmatched by her distaste for the man already seated at the only table there. She glanced briefly at Solgrin who was pacing the room like a caged tiger. Venrick pointedly ignored him and stood to greet her with a formal bow.

She wondered if he had someone paid someone to tell him the colour of her dress for his cream suit with pale blue embroidery could have been a twin of her dress. Sera frowned at his bent head as he leant over to kiss her hand.

"I hope my visit has not disrupted your day of preparations, M'lady. I warred with myself over whether or not to come but my sister insisted I make right any hurts caused by my... state last night."
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin was used to being ignored.

People did not focus on those who they thought beneath them. It was a natural fact of those who held any sort of 'status'. The only folk he'd ever met that such was not the truth was the Dwarves. They were a...different sort.

That wasn't an issue here though.

Venrick moved like a Prince would, taking the action he thought best and tossing aside anything that might stand in his way. It was an act that Solgrin had seen a dozen times over, and one that invoked a small spark of anger in his chest.

Lips thinned as he watched the man, his pacing finally coming to a stop as he took up a post besides the door. In his head he already played over the thought of snapping the man's neck, imagining how easy it would have been simply to end him now.

The satisfaction at least would have been worth it.
 
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Serafina

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Before Sera could open her mouth he ploughed on.

"One or two habits still linger from my days... sailing," she quirked a brow before she could get a rein on her emotions but he laughed at her expression and took it to mean her mood was easing. When he continued he was smiling with that half smirk cocky young men got when discussing a topic they felt they knew more about. "I know I do not look it now but I came from humble beginnings, though no doubt Isabelle's friends told you all about that," his tone turned a touch sour. "But please, please sit. Tea?"

He still had a hold of her hand and he used it to tug her over to the laid table, only letting go to pull out her chair for her and push her firmly in. It took effort not to turn towards Solgrin to make sure he was still there.

"This is a... nice gesture but completely unnecessary, really," she watched him pour her tea.

"You are a breath of fresh air My Lady, your friends would think this is too small a gesture. It is a hard world to navigate, the upper classes, but I'm sure you'd know all about rising quickly... Oh don't look shocked. It takes one to know one, I must say your act is very, very good," he glanced up to Solgrin then and gave him a small sneer. "I suppose I should be talking to you, really, no? This city is spoken for. Whatever this little... business of yours is you're trying to bring in to Tel Amos is not welcome here."
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin smiled.

It was a fierce, vicious sort of smile. The kind that Serafina had seen a few times, but only in those times which his worst qualities came out. He looked at the boy, their eyes meeting, and then suddenly within the snap of a finger the Bandit Chief wrenched the boy from his feet.

There was no hesitation. There was no second of waiting.

The way he moved was like a force of nature, grabbing the man and pulling him away from Serafina within the span of a breath. His hand wrapped around the boys throat, his eyes settling on his, that vicious smiling on his face. "Is that so, boy?"

Solgrin asked.

There was the ring of a blade leaving its scabbard, the point of his blade piercing through the boys shoulder and pinning him to the wall.

"It doesn't seem that way." Solgrin twisted the handle of the sword, a cry of pain leaving the boys lips. "It seems like my business matters more."
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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"Solgrin!" Sera jumped to her feet to avoid the man being yanked over the table as much as to avoid the wrath of the man who not too long ago had manhandled her in a similar fashion. Fear churned her stomach but she dared not get any closer to the Bandit Chief as he hurled the man up against the wall and drove his sword through his shoulder. The noise no doubt would bring attendants soon. Her eyes darted between the door and Solgrin before eventually giving up her flimsy notion of interfering and instead went to bar the door.

She didn't see how Venrick's eyes tracked her across the room in desperation, licking at his lips. His gazed darted back to the real threat in front of him and he began to sweat.

"Perhaps... perhaps I was hasty... I'm s-sure we can work something out, eh?" he offered a slimy grin. "I c-could even take over the running around for you, just need a cut..."
 
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Solgrin

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"Oh you sad little boy." Solgrin said as his hand tightened on the hilt of his sword.

A grin pulled over his face.

He remembered people like him. He knew what they were like, what attitude they tried to hold to. It was a fact of who they where, what they wanted, what place they thought they held in this voice. Solgrin had wanted to teach so many lessons, break so many expectations.

Now he could. "You don't understand."

He smirked.

"You think there's a deal to be made. A bargain set on the table." His fingers twisted the handle of the blade, deepening the wound within Venrick's shoulder. "Let me help you."

He hissed. "You're nothing. This city is nothing. I've burnt Tel Amos once, and I can do it again on a whim."

"The little game you're playing? It doesn't matter."
His shoulders squared as he spoke. "I'll throw your corpse into the street, and dare your kin to come after me."
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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Venrick's scream as the blade twisted made Serafina want to cover her ears. She most definitely looked away. Once upon a time he had handled her in that manner and her old injuries ached in sympathy for the ones this merchant was now suffering. He was going to be in a foul mood when this was all over. It would ride him hard until he got what he wanted and they were on their way. She almost wished the girl was here and it could be done with immediately but she shuddered to think what Solgrin would have done to her in this state of mind.

"P-please!" he sobbed, grappling desperately against the Bandit Chief and the sword slick with his blood. "I didn't mean to cause offense. I just... Please! Please, I'm sorry! I w-won't bother you anymore I swear," the begging was almost as bad as the screaming, she thought grimly. A sudden pounding from the door made her jump.

"My lady? Is everything alright in there?" a twist and rattle of the door knob and the pounding grew more desperate. "My Lady?!"

"Solgrin..." she hesitantly stepped forward to put a hand on his shoulder.
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin smiled at the boy.

There was something so poetic about these moments. When the nobility, when those on high realized that their position was as shaky as standing on a rock in the middle of a torrential river. Solgrin had known men like these all his life, had turned on them, tortured them.

He was no different. "Shh."

Solgrin said quietly to the boy.

"Be quiet." The Bandit Chief's face was a straight mask. "And I might yet let you live. Else my fingers will dig into your throat and rip out your larynx."

The boy seemed to pale as Solgrin spoke, his eyes growing wide and his tongue freezing. "It's alright!"

Solgrin shouted.

"A cup of spilled tea." He was a guard after all, Serafina's main guard. "That is all."
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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The man whimpered but didn't utter another noise as Solgrin called out to those beyond the door. Serafina held her breath as the footmen outside quietly deliberated amongst themselves. Eventually, however, she heard the sounds of footsteps retreating away from the door once more. She let out a quiet sigh of relief and then gently took a hold of Solgrin's arm and tugged just a little; from past experience she knew there was no point wasting her strength trying to wrench him free.

"Let him go, Sol," she pleaded earnestly. "He'd be of more use alive," the man nodded hurriedly in support of her words, his eyes flickering between the two of them as they spoke.

"Y-yes, I have intel! Things I'm sure nobility won't know about," despite having his back literally up against the wall he somehow managed to still sound arrogant.
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin somehow shoved the sword in even deeper.

There was a creek of wood as the wall behind the man seemed to give a little bit of a flex, as if Solgrin was somehow going to force it to collapse. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing the man squirm, and it would have been a lie to say that the Bandit Chief didn't enjoy it.

Putting men like these in their place was one of the reasons he had gone rogue in the first place. Why he had become what he was now. "I'll let you down."

He said simply.

"When you give me something I need." In truth, Solgrin himself didn't even know what that was, but he'd learned this tactic early on. Interrogation through torture didn't work. The person under duress would say and admit to anything at all to make the pain stop.

Instead you asked them to volunteer facts, offer things, bargain. That was the only escape, and only then once it was verified.
 
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Serafina

The Heir of Marcell
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"A-A man!" Venrick writhed and tried to get a grip on the sword as it bit deeper into his flesh. His face looked clammy and when he wet his lips nervously Sera was reminded of a toad. She glanced away, taking her hand off Solgrin’s arm and heading to the table which had been flipped over in the chaos. She needed to do something with her hands.

"A few years ago a man asked me to find girls... girls that looked like her. H-he would come and search them once a year. I don't know what he was looking for, not exactly b-but I puzzled it out," his tone took on a feverish edge as though he wanted to get to the part of the story where he wasn't Solgrin’s enemy. "He had a gem, and I think it detected something about these girls. So I set out to find one myself. If I could get a better deal..." His eyes flickered to Sera and then back to Solgrin nervously.

"The gem let's you control their magic! I could sense it. How strong they were or weak, or dormant. I learnt how to make similar things - not like the stone, but... bracelets that enabled the keeper to control their magic. Who wouldn't want a pet magician? Don't let those nobles convince you they're the good guys, they flocked to buy my wares first of all until they realised how much I was making..."
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin looked over to Serafina, his face a plain mask of a single word; see.

There was scum, and then there was scum.

The Bandit Chief did not pretend to be anything other than he was; a villain, a monster. He knew what he had done, what he would do to get what he wanted. There was never any question of that, there was no pretending. There was no other side of him.

Solgrin knew long ago what he had to become to achieve his ends, and it was men like these which truly disgusted him. Those who put on a happy face, who could barely admit to themselves what they truly were.

His hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword, lingering for a brief moment. It almost appeared as though he would press it forward, force it through the man's heart. Yet after a second passed Solgrin suddenly wrenched the blade free. "His name."

Solgrin demanded, though in truth he already knew.
 
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Serafina

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Sera barely saw Solgrin's look. As Venrick had revealed the truth behind his enterprise here in the city she had found her legs had begun to shake and in the end had slumped into one of the chairs. She almost looked as white as her dress. People had been sent to watch out for her for years. These women who hadn't been her, who had been sold on as pets... it was her fault. Indirectly but still her fault. The fault of the blood running in her veins.

Venrick squirmed desperately when Solgrin leant forward and begun to beg in a stammering voice for mercy. The Bandit Chief's question cut him off and he wet his lips nervously again, glancing between the two when he caught the look he gave her.

"L-lord Civel."
 
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Solgrin

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That was it.

The answer he had expected, the one he had known he would receive. There hadn't really been any other name that could have been said. None that the universe would have offered. For a brief moment Solgrin stood still.

Then with one quick swoop he turned.

His blade seemed to cut through the air. The sound of it moving seemed to echo through the room somehow, as if the wind itself was sliced. Then there was the briefest gasp, the sound of shock as sharp steel sliced through flesh.

Venrick's head fell to the ground with a thud.

It echoed, rolling, tumbling, and then his body followed.

"No more." Solgrin said, as though the dead man could hear him. As though a fate had been sealed. "No more."

Fingers tightened. "Tel Amos burns, chains break."

Slowly he looked towards Serafina. "All of them."

No more binds. No more collars. No more.

He was done.

Solgrin would slaughter. He would kill. But he was done with taking what was not his. He was done with holding leashes and throwing them around the throats of the innocent. His crimes were there, and he would pay for them. But not before he saw this all end.
 
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Serafina

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Sera's hands came up over her mouth to muffle the scream clawing up her throat when she saw the blade flash towards Venrick with his death all but written into the blades edge. She scrambled to her feet to put distance between herself and the head as it rolled towards her feet leaving behind a trail of dark blood. The same ruby droplets were sprayed across the sickly yellow wall where he had stood only seconds ago and over Solgrin's face too. Her heart hammered so loudly in her chest she thought he must be able to hear it.

His words rang in the air like a promise - no - more like a sentence. Slowly she raised her blue eyes from the horror of the decapitated merchant to the Bandit Chief with eyes like a wolf's when it had scented prey.

"Does that include me?" she whispered into the silence which had begun to stretch between them. She might have begun to enjoy some of the freedoms that he had offered her but she was aware that there were walls around that illusion. Boundaries and things he would never let her go. Her hands fisted in her skirts to keep them from trembling as she waited for his answer.
 
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Solgrin

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Solgrin looked towards Serafina.

There was a silence that hung in the air, marked by the sound of blood dripping slowly onto the floor. It seemed to ring out with each drop, as if echoing through the very soul. A pool slowly seeped onto the heavy wood, Solgrin's boots dyed crimson as he stood still.

"No more chains." The words were marked by the clatter of steel falling onto the floor.

His sword tumbled, clattering, echoing through the room.

The Bandit Chief stepped out of the bloody pool, leaving behind his sword and moving towards the front door of the apartment. There was nothing left to say. He had made his choice, his decision, what else was there to talk about?

There would be no more chains. No more tricks. No more traps.

No more of this.
 
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