Open Chronicles Those On High

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Djana Mahin

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Taagi Baara Steppes - Southern Reaches

"Of course not, My Lady." Her voice was soft, even, a pleasant smile on her face and her eyes as gentle as she could make them be. The woman in front of her was a mess of tears and saliva, having spent the last three hours sobbing like a child who had lost a family pet.

Djana almost felt sorry for her, almost.

Some had no stomach for the games of the nobility, some could never right certain things in their minds. She was not one of them, but this woman? This woman seemed hardly to understand her own little world. It was sad really, the fact that someone like this would have been born into this life.

She would have done better as the wife of a farmer. Instead she was to be wed away to some noble across the Sayve, securing an Alliance and ensuring that her father kept his Keep.

It was the way of things in this part, and if she didn't do it there would be a war.

"I assure you Lord Arad is a good man." That was a lie, he was a dog of the worst sort, but she didn't need to know that. Not when she was already acting like this. "He will take care of you."

Softly Djana patted the woman's hair, drawing her up and putting her back into the chair behind her. She couldn't stand to see her crying on the floor any more. It was a tad pathetic. "Why don't I see if I can find your sister? You two should spend more time together."

The woman blubbered something, but Djana was no longer listening.

She had arranged this marriage almost by herself, and she would not have it undone by this simpering wench. Not when things were so close. Standing, she brushed her dress softly, wiping away some of the woman's tears and sneering slightly as she closed the door behind her and stepped out into the hallway.
 
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To the Ghost of Reckoning,

It has come to my attention that your name and reputation is based on the fact that you steal from the rich and toxic and give to... well... yourself. I would like to offer you a job. A target stands in the way on my ascending to power. This man is named Lord Arad. He is an arrogant, horrible, disgrace of a man. I'd like you take his power. Kill him. Leave nothing to remember him by. I want his very existence erased form these lands. Your reward is anything that you can possibly fathom, I am a very rich man.

If you choose to accept, then you may like to know that he is currently in marriage arrangements with a noble woman in a castle on the southern reaches of the Steppes of the Three Fires. I don't care how you do it, just do it. Take everything he has first, make him suffer, then kill him. I will take his place, and I will do right in his position, so you need not worry about my actions. His death will be celebrated, trust me. Trust me.

The letter ended there, no name, no address, no nothing. Lectrix gave it one final look as he arrived on the outside of the castle walls. A lack of name was not uncommon, but there was something fishy about it. The man included a small bag gold as a down payment, so there was nothing wrong there, but this mission seemed to cross the boundaries Lectrix had made in his head about jobs. He quickly shook his head, shaking off the thought. Money is money, and if it put food on his sisters table, then he would do whatever.

He studied this place. Lot of history, home of nobles. He knew the lay of the land by memory after studying its maps very carefully. He knew about the rotations of the guards along that walls, making his grapple over the wall a breeze. Once inside the walls, he knew of a small occluded area of the castle that was susceptible to break ins. He managed to break through the exposed brick and crawl inside the space. His newly made crawl space led him to the inside of some sort of food storage closet. This was the perfect place to set up, he thought.

Underneath his cloak and gear, he carried the clothing of a servant from this land, or at least as close as he could get to it. He knew the nobles wouldn't notice. He had strip down his gear, removing his sword, bracer, and daggers. The only things he could manage to carry in complete seclusion was his favorite throwing knife and a pair of extra silver knuckles. He removed a board off the wall and placed his gear inside the small opening it created. He then put the board back and threw some bags of rice in front of it. He was ready.

His main task, kill Lord Arad when he arrived to collect his new wife. Take as many valuables as he could afterwards, and then leave without anybody batting an eyelash. Easy enough, he noted.

He decided the first thing to do would be to know the wife of the man he was assigned to kill. Maybe cause his suffering by making her fall in love with a servant boy. That would hurt his reputation quite a bit. He opened up the closet door that led into the kitchen. The servants were buzzing, cooking, cleaning, and delivering. He asserted himself, making his way over to the counter top. He took a freshly poured pot of tea and made his way up the stairs towards where the noblewoman's quarters were.

As he arrived on the floor and he approached her room, he saw someone appear from it. The woman was beautiful, green radiating from her eyes, her fair skin shining in the candle lit hallway. Is she the noble? He thought, quickly shaking his head. No, he had seen the noblewoman's picture. This was someone else. Who?

No, now's not the time to get distracted Lectrix, he thought to himself, slowing his pace in the hallway in order to allow the woman to hopefully leave the doorway. Back on mission, only the mission.

 
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Her gaze fell on the man walking down the hall, his steps echoing quietly over the paved stones.

Bright emerald eyes studied him for just a brief second, and then quickly dismissed him. She had no knowledge of his face, and this castle had too many servants to learn all of them. Her fingers briefly smoothed her skirts, the wrinkles of her silk gown folding away as her palms pressed them down.

Then she turned and headed towards the east of the Keep, leaving the door to the woman's unguarded and unlocked.

She knew of course what she had to do. The fool of a woman needed to complete the ceremony and wed herself to her new Husband, once that was complete? Well she didn't particularly care. Everything was ready to fall into place, she just needed the final piece.

As she passed the servant she reached out, a gentle hand touching his arm. "See that you get some extra cups."

He would have to fetch them, from the look of his tray.

"I will return shortly with Lady Iria." Though if the woman continued as she had even her sister would not be enough to soothe her. A frown briefly touched her face. "And perhaps fetch something stronger than tea."

Her voice was tinged with exasperation.
 
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Yes ma'am. What would you have me bring instead?

He hated saying those words, they made him feel powerless, desperate, in servitude. Although he felt disdain for the words that escaped his mouth, he had to keep up the act for as long as he could.

From the way she sounded, the woman was clearly not in the best of moods. She had access to a noblewoman, and judging from her emotions, she's a sort of superior to the young noblewoman. She can't be family, he thought. They didn't share any sort of resemblance. Perhaps she was a representative of Lord Arad, or just a royal adviser. He didn't know, but either way, the woman was important. Maybe a good plan B.


He turned back towards the other end of the hallway as he spoke to the woman, careful not to make eye contact. He had no idea of the culture of the castle, and if the servants were even allowed to lock eyes with certain nobles, or whether this woman was a noblewoman or not. He made sure to sound as desperate and stupid as possible, hopefully make the woman lose her guard, just in case.
 
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"Wine." She said, though hesitated for a second.

Here in the Steppe Wine was not a common drink, usually only had during certain celebrations. In Amol-Kalit where she was from it was the drink of choice even during the day. Usually watered down of course, but it rested well in the belly and tended to give one a pleasant flutter.

It was different here. "No."

She said thoughtfully, her hand finally leaving the servant's arm as she pulled back slightly. Emerald eyes floated over the man for a brief moment, and then she spoke.

"Brandy will do." Yes, that was what they drank here. An odd refreshment for ladies, at least she thought, but Djana had observed them drink it more than once during her short tenure here. The Servant would know where to fetch it, and it would complement the tea quite likely.

"I'll return with Lady Iria shortly." At least the sister wouldn't be blubbering. "You will wait on all three of us then."

Reaching into a small pocket on her waistline she pulled out a small gold coin, gently placing it on the servants tray.
 
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As you wish, ma'am.

He dipped his head and slowly rose it back to normal. He has passed the alcohol closet on the way to the stairs, so finding the brandy would not be hard. He found it odd that she chose Brandy over wine, but he didn't know about the culture of his new environment.

He turned back toward the stairs and started to walk away from the woman, one who clearly was quite involved in the politics of this castle. Although he had no idea who she was, he would keep a close eye on her. Just in case. He finally reached the stairs and descended them to the basement and towards the kitchen.
 
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There were few things in this world that Djana hated more than weak women. It was such a waste of power, and she could not help but see it as a shame. The women in this Keep could have the run of this place if they played their cards right, they could command and hold dominion.

Instead they spent their time crying.

It was a true shame, and one that she intended to correct before she left. Though her sister was an utterly useless whelp, Lady Iria was both intelligent and strong. She knew what she had to do, and she knew what advantages she could gain in life. That was why she had married her husband, the man who owned this castle.

The man who was marrying off her sister.

It had been Lady Iria that had fetched her, or sent a servant to do so.

The woman was wise enough to recognize talent when she saw it, though in truth she had no idea what Wolf she had allowed into her den when she'd invited Djana. Either way she would take advantage. All for the Great Lord. "Lady Iria."

Her voice was a soft coo, fingers rapping against gilded door.

"Your sister requires your presence, she's quite...disenchanted." Djana heard a sigh from beyond the door, then a loud click as the lock fell open and revealed a well dressed woman beyond.
 
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Upon arriving back at the hallway where he once stood, Lectrix found himself in a much more comfortable position than before. He had got to talking with the servants while retrieving the brandy , most of whom didn't care enough or just didn't notice the new face that arrived in their presence.

Being servants, they had a lot of gossip on their hands. The woman he had talked to was an adviser that the owner of this castle had hired in order to arrange the marriage with Lord Arad. The woman getting engaged to the tyrant was the owner's sister-in-law, who's name he could not encounter for the life of him. The wife of the owner was the Lady Iria the adviser had mentioned, the woman that he would wait on once she returned with the adviser.

He arrived at the top step that led into the hallway, his try containing a kettle, the bottle of brandy, three glasses, and three teacups. He walked toward the room that the adviser had appeared from, calmly assessing his surroundings. the hallway had multiple doors on its walls, with each he assumed leading to a different door. The hallway was lit by candlelight, with each candle encased in a glass lantern case. The wallpaper was red, a regal pattern leading to the end of the hallway. It was good design, he thought, casually meandering toward the door where he was commanded to wait.

As he arrived, he heard a slight wail coming from the room. It caught his ear just enough to where he put his ear to the door and just listened. All he heard were the cries of what he could only assume belonged to the lady being married off.
 
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It didn't take long to convince Lady Iria to come see her sister. The woman wanted her sibling married off almost as much as her husband did. She knew what it would do for the Kingdom and how much it would heighten her prospects. She wanted this, perhaps more than anyone else.

"I've arranged for drinks." Djana told the other woman as they walked arm in arm through the halls, her voice carrying around the bend and the clack of their heels ringing out within the empty space.

Lectrix would have plenty of time to hear them and peel away from the door.

Djana did not know of the man's true identity of course, there was no way to. None of the noise they made was deliberate, simply there because the two Ladies had no particular care for anyone around them. Another show of their ostentatious and noble nature.

"She can turn into a bit of a mess."
Lady Iria stated flatly, clearly displeased with her sister. "She'll be fine. Just needs a few kind words from her sister."

Djana spoke as they turned the corner.
 
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Shit, someone's coming, he thought. He immediately got his ear off the door and picked up his tray carefully, yet quickly. Then he positioned himself regally, placing the tray on his left arm and shoulder and placing his right arm behind his back. He finally prepared his face, placing a slight smile on his face.

Half a second later, he saw the two woman approaching him, arm in arm. The adviser was on his right and the new face was on his left. Lady Iria. He mentally prepared himself to deal with the snobbishness that came with royalty. Or at least what that's what he thought they were.
 
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She spotted the servant before Lady Iria did. A smile crossed her face, eyes darting over the tray and pleased to find that he had followed the instructions given.

It was hard to believe but many Servants would have gotten her request wrong. She'd been to many castles and Keeps where the fools could barely keep track of their feet. It was an annoying aspect of dealing with Nobles, the fact that Servants were often too ignorant to even pay attention.

She was glad this one wasn't one of them. "Here."

Djana said as she motioned for the Servant to step out of the way.

The Adviser pushed open the door, revealing Lady Iria's sobbing sister sitting in one of the chairs. She looked up for a brief moment, spotting Djana and pulling herself together. A deep breath filled her lungs, and the Adviser fought not to roll her eyes.

"I brought your sister." She cooed. "As well as some Brandy and tea."

As she stepped into the room she motioned for the Servant to follow.
 
He hastily entered the room at the command of the adviser. He looked around as he came in. The room was beautiful enough for royalty, fittingly enough. It held the same royal presence as the walls of the hallway. Lectrix felt so out of place. What did these people do in order to be so wealthy? Be born? He admitted that he's done some questionable things, but his kills have all been on tyrants, villains, those who people would cheer for their death. He's done so much, and yet look at where he was. Living in an abandoned tower with his two adopted sisters who have to live a frugal lifestyle because of the people that killed their parents.

He shook his head, careful not to get too lost in thought. He couldn't get distracted.

He quickly glanced at the woman who was once crying. He couldn't help but feel bad for her, for her marriage, but in the back of his head he knew she wouldn't have to worry about it much longer.

He headed toward the nearest table and placed the tray he carried on it. He began to pour the tea into the teacups and the brandy into the glass, careful not to spill a single drop. He wanted to seem obedient and exact in order to gain the trust of his newly found superiors. Once he finished, he began to load the glasses and teacups back on the tray and approached the three woman.
 
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Djana walked over to the chair she had been sitting in earlier, Lady Iria stepping around her in order to reach the blubbering mess of a woman just beyond.

For a few moments the Adviser simply remained quiet. The two women were supporting one another, Lady Iria pulling her sister back into her chair and attempting to do her best in soothing her sister. Djana wondered if it would have been this way in reverse, though knew the thought was a pointless one.

This marriage had to happen, for her, for the Kingdom.

"There there, Nina. It will be okay. Lady Mahin has assured me everything will be okay.
Djana cringed at the foreign pronunciation of her way, doing her best to hide her reaction to it. "Some brandy will help."

Lady Iria turned to her and nodded vigorously.

"Serve the tea." She said turning to the Servant. "Some brandy with it."
 
He nodded, and poured a slight bit of brandy into each teacup. He approached the woman again and served each a teacup, and put the kettle on a side table.

He then backed up and out his arms behind his back, ready to receive his next order. He hated being the server boy, but he had to.
 
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The three women drank surprisingly quickly, and quietly.

Djana of course watched the wailing sister closely, mostly to see if she would break out into another fit of sobbing. Lady Iria seemed to have calmed her quite a bit, though she still seemed as though she were going to break into tears at even the mention of her new husband.

Fool. "Perhaps we should see about getting new some new dresses."

This sort of conversation was always something she despised. It was boring, and abject. When she'd grown up she'd had to learn how to talk about this sort of thing, knowing that the circles she would eventually run in would want it from her.

She still hated it.

"Something...bright." She slowly moved the teacup to her lips, but as she did so something else happened. It was a small spark, something no one would be able to tell, but Djana called upon the weaving(Check my bio under abilities for what I mean!) the magic flowed through her, and she pressed. "Something more happy."

The sobbing Sister seemed confused for a moment, then smiled...happiness running over as Djana pressed.
 
Lectrix was astonished at what he just saw. The crying woman had just randomly, out of no where, started smiling. What the hell? he thought. She was crying just a second ago. She didn't even take a sip of the tea and she's all happy now. What the hell?

Immediately, he closed his eyes and put his brain to work. Based on all he had ever read, he could think of two possibilities. One, the woman was bipolar, which could plausibly explain the change in mood. However, bipolar syndrome was rare, and the study he read on the condition was vague at best.

The second possibility was magic. Only magic could've made someone change so quickly. But, that meant that one of the woman in the room had magic. The woman definitely didn't, as she would've used it to get out of her situation. The sister would not be plausible either, as she tried to cheer up her sister verbally. So that only left one option...
 
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Her expression did not change as the two women began to talk about dresses, and then quickly after wedding dresses.

That was all most of these people needed, a subtle touch, a soft press of the mind. There was no doubt in her mind that some might have required more, but this fool? She didn't even know who she really was. The girl just wanted her own place in this world, and if she could find that in her marriage?

All the better.

A small smile touched Djana's full lips as she half turned to peer at the Servant, watching the man quietly as Lady Iria and her sister discussed what colors would be at the center of the wedding. She took another small sip of her brandy, and then slowly turned her attention back towards the siblings.

"We'll have to call a tailor." She remarked with almost immediate agreement being her answer.

Oh how easy these fools were.
 
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Lectrix stood there, a blank expression on his face, but a confused one in his mind. She can control emotions, no, maybe minds? Lectrix ran through every scenario he could fathom, finally resting on the fact that she could control the human mind. Wait he paused. If she could control minds, can she read them? If so, then did she know who he really was?

This played a predicament for Lecrix. Magic was something he could rarely do anything against. This woman, if she was opposed to his goals, could pose a problem for Lectrix's plans.

He had to study her further, find out what kind of magic she had. He hoped she wouldn't stand in his way. Then, there was only one of two options. Make her join him, or kill her.
 
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Djana allowed the rest of the meeting to go on without much interruption from her.

Instead she sat quietly in her chair, lounging and slowly sipping her tea every now and again. She tried to keep her expression a mask of interest, though the more the women spoke the more she found herself...bored. Lips thinned more than once, and she began to think of a game in her head.

Eventually the sun began to lower, and Djana cast a glance over towards the Servant. "I believe it's time."

Her words were ominous enough to make the two sisters stop in their tracks.

"Lord Arad will be arriving tonight." Djana's gaze swept back towards the other women and away from the man who had been serving them tea. "You'll need to get ready and I have preparations to make yet."

She smiled softly and stood, the two sisters bidding her goodbye. "Come with me."

Djana told the man as she turned to leave.
 
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As you wish ma'am

He responded, lowering his head. Lord Arad was arriving tonight? That kind of messed with his plan, but nonetheless, he always had a plan B. First, however, he would either have to make sure the woman wasn't a threat, or get her out of the way. And that meant following her every command to gain her trust.

He bid the sisters farewell and bowed, and then turned to follow the adviser. In the back of his mind, however, he wondered for what reason the adviser beckoned his service. Maybe it was just regular servants work, or maybe she actually knew who he was. The thought lingered in his mind as they exited the room and turned onto the hallway.
 
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Djana didn't say anything for a while, in fact she didn't even look back to see if the Servant was following her. Such was the ego of her, such was the ego of most Nobles.

She herself had no noble birth, no royal lineage. She came from the desert, from the sands of amol-kalit. There were no Kings there, no Emperors. Once it was told there'd been both, but her people had long forgotten any semblance of them. For Djana, there was only the Great Lord.

He was grander than any mortal ruler.

"How did you come to this fortress?" Djana spoke finally, only after they were well aware from the room with the two sisters.

She of course did not know Lectrix true nature, could not have, but her interest came from somewhere else. She knew that a Keep was only as great as it's servants, and if she was to succeed she would need to befriend more of them.
 
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My parents were servants, so I eventually had to take up the mantle and serve my lord after they passed.

Lectrix had thought of a cover story even before he got into the castle. He would be insulted with himself if got off guard with such an easy question.

Why do you ask?

He asked the adviser, sort of relieved that her question revealed that she didn't know who he was. He let out a breath of relief in his mind.
 
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For a brief moment Djana's head cocked to the side. Cool emerald eyes studied the man, looking at him almost as if she were peering into his soul. The gaze was steady, holding, almost a prison in it of itself.

After a few moment she spoke. "Do you like it here?"

She ignored his question, yet as she spoke something prepared itself. There would be no way to sense it, no way to pull back from it lest you were trained, but as she waited for his answer Djana slowly began to prepare a weaving.

The Cultiat did not cast the net, not yet, but she prepared it.

Even if she used it there would be no guarantee of control of course, there never was, but the odds would fall into her favor. That was what she was after, that was what she qould need if her plans here were to succeed.
 
Lectrix was perplexed for a few seconds as the question barrage that the woman was hitting him with continued. She had to have had some motive for asking bizarre questions. She doesn't care he thought. In the split seconds he had before answering, he thought about everything he learned about what kind of magic she possessed. He needed to know what she was planning to do.

He vaguely remembered reading once about a kind of magic that involved the control of the mind. He remember reading about how the magic user would try to get the guard of the victim as low as possible before striking.

If that was what she was doing, there was nothing Lectrix could do when she finally dropped her net.

He had to act now. He had no idea if he could resist this kind of magic, even if he had resisted other magic at points prior in his life. He could run. No, she would still be able to drop her net. He could kill her now, his hand slowly reaching for where his blade was secluded. But he had no idea how quick he would have to be. He'd killed many people in his time, but magic gave people an unfair advantage over him. He hated it.

Uh... Yeah. I like it hear just fine ma'am. They treat me right and they provide me with food and housing. What more could I ask for? he responded, a half smile blooming at the edge of his face. Fake, of course, but Lectrix's acting was far from bad.

Maybe he could trick her into thinking that he was useless, that he wasn't worth wasting the energy. He was just a servant boy, and that's it.

And yet, he still found his hand reaching for his pocket, ready to strike at a moments notice.
 
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In that moment she cast her net.

The weaving was thrown in an instant, intricate lace needling forward towards the mans mind. There was no guarantee that it would work, there never was. Some could resist even the most powerful weaving, and some fell to the weakest. This man was a servant, so she did not expect much, but she still did the best that she could.

Djana did not set out for total domination, she did not seek to cripple his mind nor bring him to his knees with agonizing joy. Instead the weaving would bend him slightly, skew his thoughts, make him more...accepting of her words. "Oh there is so much more you could ask for."

The Cultist coo'd, her voice pure honey.

"Wealth." She took a step forward. "Power, fame..."

For a moment she trailed off, smiling. "A keep of your own."

The weaving, her words, she sought to entrance him. Make him pliable to her every word.