darionrennard

[darionrennard]

Dark Clouds

"Maybe look in on Itraeis for me to see how he's coming along with his efforts."

Anelise had instructed while sinking back into her restorative bath. As a green door shimmered open a few scant feet from the river, near the bridge to westfall. 

It was a secluded and roundabout way to get to Stormwind. But it helped maintain the secrecy of their location, even as it put him at risk of discovery from the nearby holds. He didn't expect too much of it.

As he looked back over the hill, he would see a curiously large bird in the far distance, but the thought made him smile. Vultures, it would seem, were circling the households of Holt. 

A crunch of grass, and he would turn for a moment, only to see nothing. But he calmed immediately. "You've found the boy, and the trinket. I take it?" He smiled and leaned against the tree, dispelling the open portal with a wave of his hand.

"I have..." Purred a very feminine voice as a demoness stepped lightly on soft grass. "This contact of yours with the magical jewelry is coming quite in handy..." Mirantia, his summoned succubus, appeared from thin air. She stretched her wings and lashed her tail as this was the first time in days she could revel in her true form. "I was beginning to think you'd forgot about me..." Her lips would form a perfectly seductive pout.

Darion waved off her faux complaining with narrowed eyes. "Don't worry, my pet..."  His face never changed, but his voice and eyes had that amused tinge to them that would be noticable. "Go back, and keep an eye on the man with the trinket. I'll be along shortly."

"Pity.. it's all quiet out here... just the two of us?" .. the demoness tried this, often, without success. But she found she enjoyed the play and his refusals more than if he'd actually just taken her offers. A soft hand roamed up his chest, brusing the silks with obsidian nails.

Darion caught her hand, bringing it to his lips but shaking his head. "You know better..." And though he would look severe, his eyes would tell a different story. "Off with you, you'll feed soon enough."  

The demon huffed, grasping the necklace and chanting a word. Slowly she would shift until the illusion set in and she appeared as a ren'dorei elf. Whip and long dagger at her hip in form fitting leathers. "Do hurry..." She chided the warlock. "I don't know how long I can keep an eye before direct intervention becomes.. necessary." And with that, Mirantia faded from view.

Darion closed his eyes, sensing her movements. She was bound to him, as such... there... she was far enough that he felt alone again.

A tree stump with long-faded cuts sat by the river side. And as it grew dark... he alighted himself to a seat. Staring at the stars as the night grew and the moon became visible in the sky. He took one last look, one listen with his wolfish hearing. He saw, smelled, heard nothing out of the norm.

A small, glowing stone found it's way to his hand from inside his vest. He held this piece over his heart. This... was more precious to him than all the gold, all the titles and lands this rock in the known worlds could offer him. Closing his eyes, he heard a voice that brought a hint of a smile to his lips.

"Soon.. my love..." He would whisper to the soul preserved inside. And held it against his cheek for the barest moment before standing up, replacing it in his pocket.

It was time for him to enter the game. 

@adhelin @householt @rinohaholt

[darionrennard]

Setting the Board

Darion had one of the nearby ghouls chained to the wall. A chance to flex some of the new things he had been learning. It's emaciated form snapping and slavering as it pulled against it's bonds. Feral instinct to feed and unliving hunger for warm flesh driving it's need with a meal so close. But it would fall back with a screech when the warlock raised a hand, glowing green at first with fel energy. Runes alighting along the wall and causing the creature to burn. "Molorum, volar.. dovest.." his low voice would intone in a chant. And the screeching ghoul would  sink almost to it's knees. The weight of the chains becoming more than it's dead frame could bear.  Darion nodded, taking the beast by the remains of it's hair. Shaking his fist to make sure the hold was firm, that it's scalp wouldn't simply peel from the bone.  Much to his delight, it held firm. And he began with his other hand, extending a black claw, glowing with green fire. And began scripting runes into the creature's dead flesh. It would be his eyes above ground. And his message, when the time came. Across the chamber, would be a small array of tools considered for torture by the living. But in his hands, they became something.. else. He had chosen a different chamber for this endeavor, not wanting to disturb the lady with the creature's screams. And he nodded, completing his work. Turning for the door, his hand would touch  single sigil on the door as he closed it. Sealing the room for now. Couldn't risk that thing getting out, after all. Not yet. And made his way for the central chamber, where the bath would be, but also where he met Lady Anelise.

Anelise already appeared impatient, while things seemingly were going smoothly as far as Itraeis' efforts were going she wasn't as pleased with Darion's. She sneered as he entered the chamber, "I trust that eventually these baths will get me closer to the true form I need to be?"

Darion blinked slowly. Reaching for the side of the entrance as he passed through. He idly reached for his cane, the green gem atop it beginning to glow at his touch. And he strode into the room with an irritated countenance, "They will." He starts, though he worked to keep his temper in check, a small edge of a growl could be heard in his voice. "But you're asking me to mend a dead husk back to a passable form to wander amongst the living." And his eyes would narrow.  "As such, it takes quite a generous amount of work to convince dead flesh to.. cooperate."

"Well make it cooperate faster." she demanded, her voice nearly as hollow as that of an Ebon Knight. With another sneering scoff she began to unfasten the robe but kept it upon her shoulders though the robe itself was open. "Perhaps more of your tinctures or a spell."

His eyes would flare visibly at her presumption before he closed them to compose himself. His manners coming to the fore, his tone would be even. "Lady Holt." He attempted a reassuring smile. He would look her over, his eyes sinking lower as the robe opened. Far from any lascivious intent. It would be more of a tradesman inspecting his work. Though she seemed upset with the pace of the regeneratives. Her skin was no longer cracked and broken in nearly as many places. And she even had a bit of softness to her that hadn't been there previously. All things considered, others might have considered it phenomenal progress. But not this one, with so many scores to settle. She was chomping at the bit, he realized.  "I'm already working on a short term solution to the problem while your body knits." His hand would pass over her belly. But he would look for her permission before pressing his fingers against her to test.

With a huff she canted her head to stare coldly towards him, nodding, "Fine but it would do us both well to be prepared for what I hope will be a very enticing and conducive meeting with my children. Itraeis tells me he has my younger daughter, Rinoha, on board already."

A nod would be his only sign he had heard her words. His eyes growing dark in the shadows. The room flickering with torches and candle light. Taking the que, he pressed his fingers to her belly softly. Kneading the skin underneath. It was still a bit loose, but it didn't pull too far. He grunted, taking his hand away. "A few more..." And he looked her over closely. "Rinoha, I don't know this one. What do you know of her?"

"At one time she was my middle daughter." she replied, unflinching of his touch. "But with my youngest dead, she is now the youngest of the two left alive, Adhelin being the eldest. Rinoha is pure, though not in the way of light, but in life. She has acclimated well to what haunts her, I understand she studies vigorously."

The wheels behind his eyes would clearly be turning while digesting the information. Opening her hand, he placed a glowing stone. It's energy seeping into her to facilitate her regeneration. "This is your family, if you want to use her..." He left the thought at that. Turning for a nearby table. He produced a necklace, it would be a simple gold chain with an onyx stone as the centerpiece. "I am a stranger to these lands and it's people. So in many of these affairs, I'll differ to your.. judgement." Anything resembling a smile would fade from his lips. Replaced by a distasteful expression at the thought of working with the living nobles of the house. But he kept those thoughts to himself. "Now..." He began. "if the lady would indulge me for a moment." He stepped forward, whispering a word. The necklace flickered shadow black in the light for a moment. "Imagine yourself, as you remember.. when you were among the living."

The flow of dark energy began to seep inwards, a brief flash of known warmth embraced. "A gift, for me? How very generous of you master Rennard." Her once hollowed tone seemingly richer in pitch.  "I trust there is more to this than just a stunning piece of jewelcraft."

Darion nodded grimly. As he brought his arms around the woman's throat, the stone would flash again, catching the thoughts from it's recipient and amplifying them. As the clasp clicked shut. She would appear as she remembered. "Alaego..." He would rumble, his voice thrumming with the growling, wicked intonation of the demonic speech. The word used would translate to <memory> in that gutteral language. The necklace would flash again. Then still. "That.. is the word." And he reached up to caress her cheek softly. Though she appeared human, her dried skin could still clearly be felt under the illusion. "It will last roughly a few hours per charge. But.. for a time. You can use this when needed. At least until we finish our work here." He nodded. Turning away again. "Helping you helps my goals as well." He clicks his cane against the stone while making towards the table containing his alchemical stores.

Her cool fingers reached up to trail the hemmed necklace. "Phenomenal." she remarked though she was referring to herself and what she looked like, not the actual ability of the piece. "This will certainly be used to advantage, especially since the last time several of them saw my body I was headless."

"Yes, well..." He would allow himself a true smile of amusement at that thought. Headless nobles did that to his mood. "Can't have you walking around with your head under your arm like that poor sod they tell stories about with the pumpkin, now can we?" The flasks would be arrays on the table as he turned to regard her once more. And an eyebrow did raise. And for a moment, just the barest one... he forgot his principle distaste. "You were quite lovely, I see." He remarked. "And you shall be again."

Her lashes fluttered as she smiled, fingers trailing over exposed skin to come to realize her robes were open and her was undesirable figure held a bit of perk and form. Quickly she closed her robe, and the visual catalyst for his remark. " I had better be. Now then, will I require a bath now or later?"

Darion let his expression fall. While she had been away, he had taken the liberty of replacing the water in the basin. He was nothing, if no thorough in his methods. "The mixture will be ready for your next one, soon." Taking a few stones from his pocket. His hands would glow with that fire once more while crossing the room, brushing past her with a wink. "Now, then..." He tossed the near molten stones in the water, the accompanying sizzle the only sound in the room for a moment as they sank into the depths. "What do you intend to do with your newfound lease on existence?"

"Enjoy a nice hot bath before I work at locating my love, and father of my children." Some would assume she would be referring to raising her dead ex-husband when really she meant someone else. "I just need to scry his location before I can feel his arms around me once more." She didn't whether his gaze was on her or not when she dropped the robe into a pool of satin on the floor and stepped into the near scalding hot water. To her it felt like a cleansing. "I won't be long."

Darion stepped out of the way, even offering a hand to help her in. "And what.. of the children, themselves?" His finger would trace her hair over her shoulder leaving her neck revealed to him. And the circlet that would be holding her together. "The one's that did.. this..." His finger traced the line of the neck piece. "What do you have in store for.. them?" He would be curious at that.

Taking up his hand she eased herself into the hot bath, permitting him to toy with her hair and trace at her scarred flesh. "I suppose that all comes down to whether Adhelin accepts what we have accomplished here or whether she is going to attempt my life a third time. I mean to find Bron so that perhaps he can talk her down or at the very least, even the fight."

He nodded. Dark hair spilling over his shoulder as he looked down and thought about it all. He took his hand away. "Well you do know..." His tone would frame it as a question. "That, as much as we can do with that body you inhabit. It will never truly be alive?" He raised an eyebrow inquisitively that she seemed to relax in the water. That she could feel anything at all was a wonder, given the time and nerve damage. But he had no illusions as to it's permanency. "Without these baths, your body will revert to withering and rotting. This is a temporary fix." Swiftly he crossed the room, reaching for the mixtures that needed to be combined just so. "I've seen this Adhelin, she carries some of your grace. As well as a few of the people that surround her." He smiles as a thought begins to form.

"I will make the best of the time I have, I assure you, master Rennard. But yes, Adhelin was groomed to take after me in the line of succession. Bred and raised to carry a strong political mind, and be able to land herself a formidable husband. That said she's at least been able to accomplish the former. She truly is skilled in the way of manipulation, strategy, illusionary and so forth, talents when combined could have secured her a marriage to the most powerful man in Stormwind." she silenced herself for a moment, "But she's to wed some barbaric babbling fool pretending at being anything of worth.  A Darkmoor? My eldest daughter is to be a Darkmoor, a name with zero substance or standing, and who is this man really. Has he always been so barbaric, how was he able to adapt so quickly, was he actively providing an illusion to those of my family so that he could worm his way in and hold a firm grip over our coffers?!" the very thought made her furious. "Hurry up with this blasted bath, I feel the sudden urge to pay someone a visit."

Rennard nodded. Smiling secretly while his back was turned. In no time, he would be warming that familiar flask with fel fire. "This will take a few moments. In the mean time... " Once he turned his face would be that calculating mask once more, though it did retain the slightest hint of his earlier smile. "Tell me what you know of the family, particularly the females."  With a slow, careful gait. He carried the mixture back to the bath once it was ready...

@adhelin @rinohaholt 

[darionrennard]

Preparations.

Darion muttered to himself as he sat, back arched over a half rotten table. The smell made his nose crinkle a bit with distant loathing. Oh, he'd gotten used to being underground. And the inhabitants of the underground structure. He could hear them moaning endlessly. Rattling cries vibrating rotten vocal chords. But with his wards in place. They didn't dare come near this portion of the tunnels. Still, even in this place... he would be wearing his usual couture, a pressed linen shirt under a silken vest.

No, this was the craft he'd taken up during his youth, that had come to fruition in his time since the fall of his home. He was mixing a series of rare herbs and.. truth be told.. bits of his 'friends' outside. To create a flesh mending concoction to add to the water in a large basin across the room. It proved.. quite fragrant, and not in a good way. And while they had proven to work with his 'subject.' Quite a bit more would be needed to make her capable of walking near the living.

Still, he allowed himself a smile. He had come quite the ways since being driven south. The forsaken had taken to calling him "The Fel Wolf" In that gutteral language they'd picked up since joining the horde. He missed it, and the small part of the wood he had carved for himself.

Ground liferoot slipped from his fingers as he spilled the powder into a funnel. The same done to a generous quantity of bruiseweed. And a few of his personal choices. Mainly a series of herbs from Pandaria. Unreachable before. But these days, regular trade in Stormwind had garnered him what he needed for this very.. special mixture. Rather than keeping a regular burner as most alchemists would. He simply snapped his fingers, and green fire alit in his fingers. Holding the bottle with a set of tongs. He held his hand under the glass.

As he watched the liquid inside reach a boiling state. He slowly paced to the basin across the room. It would be a bath dug out of solid stone. Then smoothed with fel fire until it was a good approximation of a bath. Water brought from the nearby river in the dead of night. It was also boiled until the water was pure. 

Nothing less would do in his eyes.  

He swirled the concoction as he nodded, seeing it mix. A regenerative mixture, it would bind flesh and knit wounds. Making it smooth once more. Swirling the bottle one last time, he killed the fire with a shake of his hand. Then ran his fingers through the mild water. It was still slightly warm from being boiled, and as he poured the mixture into the bath. His fingertips began to tingle as he felt the water heat to a comfortable level. 

The mans sharp hearing would pick up the subtle scrap of soft shoes upon the stone. His ears would twitch in a not very human way as he turned with the empty bottle in hand.

There she would be, the culmination of a long series of journeys that had taken him from the forests of Silverpine to the depths of the Lordaeron region. Piecing her soul back together had been no easy task. But, as his near black gaze in the dark fell upon Anelise. He felt a thrum in his vest pocket. Something he kept close to his heart. Yes.. he was indeed a giant step closer to his own goals. 

Something he hadn't told anyone.

"Lady Anelise." His deep, rich voice would fill the chamber. He would stand on ceremony. The mannerisms of his old life falling over him like a cloak. Placing the bottle on the side of the bath and offering a courtly bow. As if they were in the kings audience chamber rather than in a far away place filled with the dead. 

"It's prepared and waiting."

@adhelin @rinohaholt

[darionrennard]

Darion Rennard

Basics

NAME: Darion Rennard

AGE: 32

BIRTHDAY: August 5th

RACE: Afflicted Gilnean

GENDER: Male

MARITAL STATUS:  Single

Physical Appearance

HAIR: Raven Black

EYES:  Dark green/human, Glowing green/worgen. 

HEIGHT: 6'2″ 

BUILD: Wiry, thin. 

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Fel runes and markings along his chest and arms.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Signet ring of a hound surrounded by green flame. 

FACIAL LIKENESS: Pete Steele

Personal

PROFESSION: Former spell weaver. Now undertermined. 

HOBBIES: Likes to read and expand his library. 

LANGUAGES: Common, demonic. 

RESIDENCE: Duskwood (Exact location undisclosed.) 

BIRTHPLACE: A well kept manor near Stormglen Village.

RELIGION: None

PATRON DEITY: None

FEARS:  Very little, all was already taken from him by the forsaken and the feral worgen on that fateful night. 

Relationships

SPOUSE: None

Children: None

PARENTS: Lord Aleister Rennard, and Lady Kimberly Rennard. (Deceased) 

SIBLINGS: None. 

OTHER RELATIVES: Dead

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS: Mirantia, Lady Anelise Holt. 

PETS: None. 

Traits

•extroverted / introverted / in between

.•disorganized / organized / in between.

•close-minded / open minded / in between

•calm / anxious / in between.

•disagreeable / agreeable / in between

•cautious / reckless / in between

•patient/ impatient / in between.

•outspoken / reserved / in between.

•leader / follower / in between.

•empathetic / unempathic / in between

* optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

•traditional / modern / in between

•hard-working / lazy / in between.

•cultured / un-cultured / in between.

* loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

* faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between

Additional Information

SMOKING HABIT:  never /sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

[darionrennard]

Shadows Gather

As the lady stood on the riverbank a small set of crunching noises could be heard from heavy boots. A tall man wanders up behind her, his black boots rolling stones as he carefully made his way, dressed neatly in a dark suit as if he were coming from an engagement from the royal court. A hooded cloak pulled over his head, he would blend perfectly with the background in the pre-dawn darkness. 

Coming to stand behind her, she would be able to hear the click of a cane upon the stones and a low, almost baritone voice would drift to her over the breeze almost as if coming from all around rather than from a person in a given direction. 

"My lady... " The man pulled back his hood to reveal his pale face, dark eyes glittering as he gazed upon the sight before him and as the hood fell back a generous length of raven black hair would flow down his shoulders. 

"My lady..." He would intone in that voice again for she wasn't responding but merely staring at the estate with dark thoughts he was no longer able to hear, though knew very well were happening.

"There will be time for this, later." He continues anyways. Unbeknownst to him he would be walking unseen, an inveterate sneer of disdain for the house and it's portent would cross his near expressionless features. 

Lastly, he would begin waving the cane in his hand, a green gem in the top of the cane glowing as he began forming a short range portal that would take them back to where they hid... for now. 

"Lady Anelise.." He says, finally drawing her attention. "They have seen you, it's time we were off." And his sneer would turn to a wicked grin as the portal formed in the air. Swirling with dark shadows and green fire. 

Gently, he would take the undead noblewoman's hand, and guide her through the portal. It would appear to all as if she had simply vanished in the blink of an eye.