liora-tarinval

[liora-tarinval]

The First Step

Bengal lingered her settled gaze before she looked back to her drink. “I…” Her brows knits together, hesitantly taking another gulp of her liquor, then pursed her lips. Clearing her throat a bit, then her head tilts to one side whilst her gaze trailed off and away the opposite direction of him. “I just--” She seemed to grumble a bit under her breath as if words were hard to fetch. She gave off an exasperated sigh, then managed to stare back his way, locking gaze to his own. “I’ve grown more fond of you-- and just… I-- ah fuck it…” She settled her glass down sharply, then both of her hands reached upwards, one planting on his shoulder to push it in a way that he’d be facing her, the other brought up to cup and line his jaw at the very same time that she drew dangerously closer to him, and brought her lips to plant directly onto his own, her eyes shut and brows furrowed. Remaining still unless removed, sought to bring words into act instead. But eventually pulled back to peer him searchingly, as if trying to capture if he’d present the same expression of rejection she and Rev had caught him with another.

Peter was watching with a humorous smirk on his lips as he waited patiently for Bengal to explain herself. He took a lengthy, final sip of his brandy before setting the glass down on the counter. His gaze drifted back to Bengal, narrowing just a trace at the sudden hesitance. An illusion, what was she hiding? At her admittance, he was about to grin and make a smartass remark, but was cut off by the sudden push to his shoulder. Suddenly, Bengal was right in front of him. Then he was kissed, which actually put the poor guy in a loop. He hadn’t anticipated it at all, though, after a second or two of standing there in shock, she pulled away. He then opened his mouth to say something, failed to find words at that moment, then just opted to grin like a fool. “Well that wosn’t too bad, Bengal.” He complimented, conveniently brushing over the fact he had been completely bamboozled a few moments prior. “Not exactly somethin’ I wos expectin’.... But surprises are nice.” He added with a wink, eventually quipping. “Feeling’s mutual, of course, but I didn’t know when you’d finally come around. Glad y’ finally came t’ your senses.” There was a snicker in his words, though he seemed genuinely pleased.

Bengal stood there with lips pursed, and right after did her visage flushed crimson, but despite this, she held her gaze up, nearly looking like she had held her breath through and still. She remained hesitant, doubtful, even as he spoke, but she recalled this wasn’t the expression she saw before. Genuine or not, she lingered there with a hand still on his shoulder, and the other to his chin nearly felt like it was quaking, to which she began to realize this and peeled it away afterwards. “I…” She cleared her throat, taking a deep breath, then slowly pivots back to face the bar, grabbing her drink, another breath taken, then chugged the liquor down before settling the glass back. “I wasn’t sure… I just wanted to make sure. That… you weren’t just fucking around is all… you know what I mean.” The blush of her cheeks wouldn’t go away, seeking simply to tone down the hefty drums within her chest through silent and long slow breaths. “My senses were there… just…” Her lips twitched, and her verdant gaze flicked elsewhere, trying to focus on random objects about.

Peter had at this point managed to recover fully from his surprise, taking the situation in easy strides. While he himself had the faintest traces of embarrassed flush, courtesy of the fact he knew -someone- was watching…. Especially that bartender, he nonetheless wore a relaxed expression of reassuring humor. He placed a gloved hand atop the shaking one, offering a light squeeze of comfort before letting go to let Bengal fetch her drink. He was a kind lad, jokes aside. “Oh I got ya. You thought I was one of those fake lads that’ll pack up and leave in a week.” Peter remarked with a chuckle, shaking his head from side to side. “Naw, only th’ real deal here. I know when it’s worth it t’ stick around.” He replied smoothly, botching the delivery more than likely but trying just the same. Perhaps it was intentional, if only to ease Bengal’s anxiety a bit. He couldn’t help but snort with a laughter at her later remarks, however. “Senses, huh? Is what wot ya call em?” He asked, grinning broadly as a brow was arched. “I think th’ word you’re lookin’ for is feelin’s. Good things t ‘have, really. It’s nice when people like ya and vice versa, no?” He quipped as he turned in a similar fashion to the bar. Darn, his glass was empty. He figured the casual approach was best for now.

“I wonder sometimes… if I never made the first move… you wouldn’t have suffered through our time together.”

“Has it truly been worth it for you?”

“Your humor, your laughter, your cheeky grins… they’re cherished when I see them genuinely displayed, for I no longer see them as often…”

“Yet you stuck around despite all my warnings. As selfish as it might be-- I’m grateful you did.”

(A Recollected Memory.)

@peterwayland

[liora-tarinval]

[liora-tarinval]

Left Unforgotten

Sight of a large fiend, ashen bark and vines spread out far, curling along the ground as they lashed out towards several figures fleeing in the distance towards large metal cages that appeared to have contained some sort of animal; dogs maybe. Some of the vines coiled around the waists and legs of several figures, lifting some high while some vines were in the midst of dragging along several that begged and screamed. --Red leaves brushed across the cheeks of a young human woman particularly. The cheeks of the woman were brushed almost tauntingly as surrounding branches and vines enclosed upon the woman’s throat. Her screams were audible, loud and high pitch, ceasing only at the loud crack. Her screams turned into pants, whines, and as her eyes rolled and her head went limp there was an awkward silence. The vines ceased moving and those captured ceased their screaming. 

Mary watched the scene below without turning her back to face the group behind her. "I think that's a good thing. It's good to 'try' to learn what you can. I think so especially when it comes to magic." Doll black eyes shifted from the scene ahead to Tarvasha.

There was the sound of grinding at the sight of the belly of the large ashen tree opening and as the recently slain woman was fit into the maws mouth the sound of crunching became far more audible. ~Crunch, Crunch, Crunch, SNAP.~ Sounds that were rarely heard; human meat and bones being crunch and grounded up. Across the ashen bark were a multitude of masks, faces twisted, defiled by emotions; the tortured faces and peaceful faces that seemed to move as one, the maws opening wide as the vines pulled at hunks of flesh that belonged to the the living that had been captured. The screams returned, blood spraying as a man’s arm was twisted violently and yanked from his torso, several other vines taking said arm and presenting it to the faces along the bark. They too feasted, mouths opening in a rather human manner, jagged teeth biting into the flesh, vines twisting them like cobs of human corn.

Notably there was a large spider-like creature behind both Mary and Saeuun. On top of its back was a large cage that the creature would let slide off of her back and onto the ground. The creature would skitter off to the side and Mary would gesture to Saeuun. “Open it and fetch what is yours.”

Aly bows her head towards Mary. “Teacher. I have done what you asked of me.”

Lark walked on up to Mary, bowing her head in a silent greeting.

Mary: “Step off to the side, please.”

Lark did so, without a word.

Bengal looks down at Aly from the cage she was in being carried by a half spider half human being. “Teacher?”

Aly simply nods at Bengal. 

Darbs looks at Bengal. He is bound in void tendrils.

Bengal: “You've stoop low, Aly. Didn't knew you were that desperate.”

Darbs: “Tha's what I said…”

Mary: “That's what I said~” Mary's face said the exact opposite; neutral. Probably sarcastic.

Aly blinks at Mary.

Darbs: “It's all a fuckin' joke...Resortin' ta dark magics. Callin' this crock a shit teacher...Therrond would be soooo proud.”

Aly: “Therrond is dead.”

Lark: “And the constant whining is a bore.”

Darbs: “Yeah… And I'm sure he's rollin' in his grave at tha' sight of his precious Company bendin' their knee ta such a group.”

Bengal was drawn out of the cage, and remained immobile afterwards, staring up to the tree with a dull deprived gaze and silence. A twitch of her eyes at the sound of bones being crunched to bits. “Is this what an ancient can turn to be?”

Darbs grunted in pain as his legs were broken. However his grunts would slowly turn into a slight laugh. “Ha.....heh...Oh, this is goin'...ta be lovely…”

Mary: “By the way. Strip your prey naked. And remove everything from their bodies.”

Bengal gave Sae a wide eye. “I... can do it myself it's fine.”

Saeuun kicks Bengal in the back of the knees again. “It's annoying that you won't just fucking kneel.” The blight and bile on her blade would ooze outwards and drip on the floor. She looks up to Mary and nods; swiping the sickle across Bengal's body to cut the leathers off. Letting the clothes fall to the floor. Not being careful to not cut Bengal in the process.

Aly kicks Fidel down onto the ground and draws her dagger. She presses the tip onto the base of his neck before jerking it downward and tearing through all of his garments so they will simply just fall off the next time he rises. She also cuts his belt, removes his mask, and tosses his hat to the side.

Bengal was kicked down to the ground, the clothes being stripped off her form, and the cobra still remained coiled about her frame. Hands to arms had been burnt, lashes burns and cuts adorning the skin, and a mark lays on her arm in the form of a lotus. “Kinda hard to kneel when you keep your blade at my throat, Sae. You could have just asked as well.”

Saeuun: “... Yeah I coulda…” She shakes her head. “Fuck. No. Okay, just shut up before I shove that fel familiar in your mouth.”

Bengal: “It doesn't work that way.”

Saeuun: “I'll make it work somehow.”

Darbs continued to snarl as he was kicked down to his knees. He watched in pure rage as his mask/hat was removed and slid across the floor. His Worgen attributes slowly started to peak through his human form as his rage was growing more difficult to contain. “It's funny...Now tha' I'm here...I think I've changed my mind about ya, Aly.”

Bengal looks at Darbs. “So, what brings you here.”

Aly raises her eyebrow inquisitively at Darbs.

Darbs snorts derisively at Bengal. “I killed tha other 'volunteer'.”

Saeuun kicks Bengal in the side. “Please. Just shut up…”

Darbs looks at Aly.

Lark peered at Saeuun from the corner of her eye. “Saeuun. You needn't ask your prey to do things. You command.”

Mary: “Out of curiosity, what makes you want to use this one again, Aly? This one is your ally, or is he not?”

Aly: “He is, but he stole the one I was originally going to use from me by putting a bullet in her head against my wishes.”

Saeuun looks at Lark.

Darbs: “Ta make tha company seem like it still had some fuckin' backbone… You would much rather slap somebody on tha wrists and let 'em go only ta do it again.”

Mary: “Worgen. Stop talking for a moment.”

Bengal gets kicked in her side and snickered through a huffed breath. “Prey, sure. She lacks control over her emotions. And that man couldn't be more right.” She gestured over to Darbs.

Mary lifted her gaze to Aly. “It is distasteful to make sacrifices of those that you consider allies. That is something that even I don't do. Now, is this one someone that you actually care f--”

Without a word Aly draws a dagger, twists it in her hand, and brings the hilt slamming hard down into Fidel's jaw. “You heard my cousin, silence!”

Aly blinks at Blankett.

Mary: “Child. He stopped talking.”

Darbs would be knocked heavily into his jaw. He would reach up and rub it slightly as he slowly shifted it back into socket.

Saeuun nods before looking to Bengal. Not doing anything yet, but preparing to knee Bengal in the back of the skull if she speaks again-- As Bengal does speak, the knee comes to her head before Sae slid to the front of Bengal and brings her sickle to the mouth of Bengal. “One more, fucking time. And I ensure you can't speak any fucking more. I'll do to you, what you should have done to me.”

Aly: “Oh... Well, yeah, he has helped me out a bunch. He also killed the traitor I was bringing to you. I just did not want to disappoint you on my first assignment, Teacher.” Aly bows her head shamefully.

Mary:  “.... Step back, Aly.”

Aly does as instructed.

Lark inclined her head towards Saeuun as the woman took charge. Satisfied, the old woman turned to watch the going ons of Aly's prey.

Mary crouched down slowly in front of Darby. “This would've been a mindless sacrifice. We do not make mindless sacrifices and we do not make sacrifices of our allies. That is treachery. Unless he betrayed you or crossed you though. If he did neither then he has not betrayed you and making a sacrifice of an ally is distasteful. There is a difference between the sacrifice Saeuun has brought and the sacrifice that you have brought.”

Aly: “He has crossed me though... He went against one of my commands.”

Mary: “Which command?”

Aly: “Not to kill the traitor I was bringing here.”

Bengal was kicked by a knee to her head, taking the hit full on and her body sways from the impact, albeit dazed from it, she trailed her eyes back to Sae. “I spared your life, Sae. Think about it hard as to why I have done what I did, while all eyes had been on me. Use your head for once, rather than your emotions.”

Darbs: “I simply...Killed the traitor...for tha' good of tha' company…” His breathing was even more drawn out than before. Between the crudely stitched hole in his chest and his now broken legs the pain was becoming too much.

Mary: “Hmm.”

Lark looks at Saeuun.

Mary peered down at Darby. “Why did you kill the prey that was being brought here?”

Darbs: “I know a thing or two 'bout masks...If ya want tha company ta be feared, ya gotta give tha people a reason..”

Mary peers at Darbs searchingly. “And why did you do so against your leaders wishes?”

Bengal: “... You're being watched as well, you must obey, show them you're strong, yes?”

Darbs: “I had no idea this was tha plan...I simply learned tha' they were goin' ta deal with a traitor...Yeah, Jon told me tha' Aly wanted her alive..for somethi'..But I did what I did so tha' perhaps Easteye's reputation would be as great as it once was…”

Mary: “So you went against your leaders commands, thinking that you knew best without realizing your leaders true intentions. Correct?”

Darbs: “Tha's right… Bein' tortured and then set free pisses people off, makes 'em want revenge...Killin' 'em though, doesn't give 'em tha' opportunity…”

Mary: “Then what you're saying is that you should be killed. And not simply punished and set free. Because if that happens you'll simply come back to go against Aly. Correct?”

Darbs: “It's entirely possible I'm sure, but then why would have I done what I did?”

Mary: “And what did you do? We've already spoke on you killing the traitor against the orders of your leader. I get it; you're energetic. You seek to merely do the best that you can. But at this point? You were far too eager. Hence why you're in the position you currently are. Death is easy. Murder is easy.”

Aly seems to be hanging on heavily to each of Blank's words. 

Mary: “It is more appropriate for others to suffer. The body can be made use of. The life force can be made use of. You not only went against your leaders orders and commands; you robbed from her an opportunity to increase her own power so that she can do her job better.”

Saeuun snarls at Bengal. “Don't... fucking. Test me.” She takes the second sickle and slams it into Bengal's leg. “You know damn fucking well you did nothing for me; so quit acting like you've been my babysitter since I began to rise. You've done nothing for me. I've grown from my failures, my pain, and my own path. Not yours. You'd have had me killed if it meant something to you; admit it. Back before this all, back when we plotted against my new family. You told me yourself that you planned on taking the operation yourself. After all the work -I- did to start it, after all the people -I- spoke to to get things to line up... but no. You sent me aside, to take the glory yourself, and then even that was too much effort. So you ran off and got me to try and take a picture of the fucking tree for you.”

Darbs: “When ya got men and women puttin' their lives on tha line for this crew...They're bein' made use of...Somebody comes along and bites tha' very hand tha' feeds 'em...Well ya fuckin' kill 'em ta show tha others tha' nobody is fuckin' 'round.”

Lark: “You have made a threat, Saeuun. And have warned her of the consequences. Follow through on your own words.”

Saeuun looked to Lark. “I'd like to hear what else she has to say first.”

Mary: “And you could do that while making sure to obtain all that you can from the body. When you wish to make orange juice you don't simply pull out parts you don't like. You squeeze the fruit of everything. To obtain everything you can from that. If you wish to present the worn and ruined fruit off? Do so. But killing them? It shouldn't simply stop there. As I said. Murder? It's simple. Anyone can kill. Even children.”

Darbs: “Seni isn't just some corpse...Her very body is tha' void...I did what I did so she wouldn't come back worse than before…”

Mary: “Great things could've been done with that body. Once again, you've robbed your leader of the opportunity. I planned to turn the corpse of the creature into a powerful weapon for your leader. They would've been both dead and changed into something great.”

Darbs: “You can' control tha void, Father... It merely corrupts…”

Bengal: “Do as your told, Sae. Cut off my tongue. I'd tell you not to, but you never listen anyways. I never used you, you're merely twisting reality that once was. That is what spite does... I'm not surprised. I've told you already, I never wished for power, my work lied in discretion, while yours lied out in the open. Cut off my tongue, lest you wish to be punished by them.”

Mary smiled softly at the male. “You cannot control 'all' of it. Fragments though can be contained, abused, and used. Just like whores, dear worgen. Just like whores.” She jerked a shoulder towards the male, limp sleeve slapping playfully at the bare males thighs. “A query; you've made a grand mistake. Would you be willing to suffer for the sake of your leader? Even if a little bit? Even if it would aid in strengthening her on her quest to do better?”

Darbs: “How tha' fuck you think I got in this situation...I did just tha'...I could've made her look like a force ta no' be reckoned with…”

Mary tilted her head. “My questions still stand. As the one who made a mess of everything originally planned; would you be willing to suffer for her sake? Tonight.”

Darbs: “After how I've been treated? Why tha' fuck would I do tha' now? My jaw and legs are broken...Tha cunt over there sliced me up tryin' ta patch a hole in my chest...AFTER I was blasted by Jon of all fuckin' people...Why would I be willin' ta sacrifice so much more fer jack shit?”

Aly: “The breaking of the jaw was unnecessary... Teacher was right.”

Darbs: “Quite the apology…”

Mary gestured to Aly with her sleeve. “A proper apology is in order. A heartfelt one. Do remember, excessive violence is fine; not for allies though. Consider those within your company to be companions. Betraying your companions will turn you into the one that Saeuun hates.”

Darbs: “An apology?” He laughed. “An apology ain't gunna fix my body...It ain't gonna make all tha' has happened just go away.”

Lark: “Punishment and betrayal are both two very different things.”

Mary nudged the man with her foot. “Don't worry. I've got you.”

Darbs: “Oh naw, naw...Ya wan' somethin' from me, I deserve somethin' in return..”

Mary: “Nah. You've got nothing I desire.”

Darbs: “Naw you...Aly..”

Lark’s eyes grew heavy lidded at Darbs's demand.

Aly: “I apologize for Sae's actions when you were wounded. She is still a novice necromancer and I should have had someone better with the living help you. I also apologize for breaking your jaw. It was unnecessary and I merely did it to look tough in the moment…”

Mary: “Oh right. Saeuun, drag your prey to the center.” She gestured over towards the gathering of trees. At the center there seemed to be a gap between the bark and foliage.

Darbs: “Tha' apology...was a good start…” He went silent and watched as Sae drag Benny towards the trees.

Mary: “Do you require a bit of help, Sir Worgen?” She smiles at Darbs.

Aly eyes Bengal curiously. Her focus not on anything else.

Mary: “Consider this; you've ruined your leaders opportunity by acting in an over energetic manner and taking things into your own hand. She hurt you a bit excessively in return and brought you here. I believe that makes you two even. But now? After I stepped in and prevented you from suffering far more than you would've --You're welcome, by the way--.”

Bengal was dragged over by Sae, clothes and armament left behind. The serpent continued to slither about her body, covering her upper portions. Once they halted, she sat on the ground in silence.

Mary: “I say you two make a bit of a deal. In return for your suffering and your blood, you make a request of Aly. And make a proper trade.”

Alysényae blinks at Mary.

Mary: “Pardon; your suffering, your blood, and your continued loyalty.”

Darbs was going to say something but immediately stopped short. He slowly turned his head to look at Aly with a menacing grin on his face. “Aye'..I'll tell ya wha' I want. Officer status and aaaaall tha benefits…”

Aly: “In return for continuous loyalty?”

Mary: “Mmmm. That's a bit too much.”

Darbs: “I'm a merc, my loyalty is easily purchased fer tha' right price.”

Mary would scratch at her chin thoughtfully , but no arms. She looks at Lark. “Come scratch my chin, please.” She peers at Lark searchingly.

Lark nodded, walking over to stand behind Mary. Wrapping one arm around Mary's waist, and letting her other arm rest it's elbow on top, the kaldorei began to scratch lightly under Mary's chin, as thought o simulate the black woman having her own arms.

Aly: “Make another request. One a bit more reasonable.”

Saeuun: “You know, Liora.” She snickered. The rune on her head began to flare up, she grew stronger, faster, smarter. Shadows began to lick off of her form. “If there's one thing I learned, it's that some things are much too simple. Cutting off your tongue would be just that.” She grabbed Bengal's head and slammed her head to the ground, laying her on her back, face up. Sae would sit atop of Bengal's chest. She grabbed out a rod from her pouch of components and shoving it in Liora's mouth, to keep it ajar. She cloaked herself in armor of shadow and bone to protect herself from the Snake if it were to attack. She pulls out a vial off of her pouch, a yellowish greenish liquid that sizzled in the vial. She poured it into Bengal's mouth, evaporating into gas as it began to seep out. She would cover her shadowed covered hand over Bengal mouth to prevent any gas from escaping. The pain would be immeasurable. Feeling like a 1000 bugs biting inside of her mouth; like acid eating away at the entire mouth of Bengal. She'd bring her hand away, and rip the rod out. An infected plague-ridden mouth. Bengal's skin would begin to turn to a black bruised discolored skin from the esophagus to the stomach. The plague eating away at her lungs too, making it difficult to breath. Saeuun slammed her prey's mouth shut and slammed her knee into the jaw to keep Bengal's mouth. She'd begin to hum a tiny bit as she reached into a satchel and pulled out a needle and thread. She slams the needle into the bottom lip of the Canteion protégé, and began to sew her mouth shut. In. Out. Up. Down. What felt like a thousand piercings to the lip would be felt. An even more torturous sensation at the fact that Bengal's mouth was already infected and wounded. Only able to breath from her nose for the time being. Saeuun took her sickle and began to let some of the pestilence from her blades drip onto the exterior off onto the skin of the prone girl. “I like my work to be more interesting than some branding.” She slammed a sickle into Bengal's hand to keep her on the floor before she pulled out a small ritualistic dagger. She began to cut the corner of Bengal's lips into a sociopathic smile before pulling out the thread again and attempting to continue her work. Eventually, sealing Bengal into a smile, but unable to eat, and the threading was so tight it was nearly impossible to even drink. Breathing too would nearly be impossible too, besides from the nose. She'd press her knee into the chest of Bengal and using the second sickle to slash off the ears of Bengal too, then slamming her hand onto the wound she just made. She grabs at the skin, letting necrotic energy arc off of her hand as she began to seal the hole shut completely. She would slam her sickle down to cut off the other ear and repeat the process. Before the hole was closed, Sae spoke so that she could still hear. “I couldn't speak. And you wouldn't listen…” She sealed the earhole shut before standing and kicking Bengal over onto her face. The cut that she made the night prior down Bengal's back began to fester. Puss oozing out of it. Sores covering her back, infected pox marks littered the woman's back.

Bengal was grabbed by the head and twisted over on the ground. She didn't struggle against it, her arms laying at rest at either of her sides whilst Sae toppled upon her body. The serpent itself slithered away only to disappear in a plume of smoke. She lays there, bare, staring up to Sae with those same dull and deprived eyes. The rod inserted into her mouth, though, prevented her tongue from being bitten on, and so she waited. The liquid being poured into her mouth shifting to gas, fumed out through her nose as her mouth was sealed by a palm. Of course she felt the pain, and her eyes shut to a tight  close whilst her body's muscles stiffens, hands clenching into fists. The plague like substance blackening the flesh within, and tears rolled down her cheeks. She endured through it, as she had done by the hands of her mother and mentors alike. After her lips were being sewn, that's when she did it. Bit her tongue. Blood poured within her mouth, and if nothing was done about it, she'd surely choke on her own blood, depriving Sae of a potential sacrifice. Of course it wouldn't be noticeable until her body began to spas and letting out muffled wet coughs. Blood spilling through her nose as she couldn't swallow all the blood encompassed and flowed within the sealed mouth. Her face bled from the carving and sewing that has been done upon her. Her ears were cut off, though she couldn't scream, only forcing her to breath in the blood that pooled within her mouth with no way out. Before Saeuun proceeded any further, Bengal was spasming and twitching on the ground as she could no longer breath, and her lungs began to fill of her own blood. She was falling to subconscious, no sound, no more pain, she was drifted away.

“Does she remember, I wonder…”

“The time where she uncovered her deepest desires, and looked at me with freight. Telling me she never wanted to become what she had witnessed from the orb. That it wasn’t her.”

“I should have never shown her that artifact…”

“I left it behind… she’ll see it… she’ll remember and return to how she used to be.”

“Why couldn’t we just stick to stealing bagels from Zeno?”

“Sae… I forgive you. Forgive me for failing you.”

(A Recollected Memory.)

[liora-tarinval]

Tarinval Reunion

As Liora exited the building  -the door of which looks out over a short landing into the main alley of the district - she would be greeted by the smoke. Not the vapors of a rainy night turned into day, but something other, something that shouldn't be. The floor is consumed by it; a shallow river of smoke; accompanied by a silence that wasn't natural in this part of town. There was no one attending the bar adjacent, and the titular winds the city was named for had been rendered eerily still. As she could just begin to observe the streets, she would raise her eyes upon a figure standing in its center, dark miasma pouring from the figure's robe. The figure wore a long robe and appeared to be the only other person in the alley with her at the time. Again, unusual for the hour. Peering past the figure's shoulder who's visage hid in darkness, she could see what must have been other people further down the alley, but they would appear to be oblivious to the mist, and of the man. 

Late at the hour, Bengal thought it time to close and lock the shop for the night, or was it really? In reality, it was day’s light just moments ago, yet time had suddenly eluded her as the air shifted without her conscious knowing. The citizens and folks, or lack thereof of Old Town set to a slumber within their own homes, or slums. Least, very few figures would be seen, it was quiet, as per usual these days, whereas she misses the troops massing at her stoop, whether it be for casual hanging around, or business, despite her penchant for silence and solitude. Her brows knits and furrows. The air was odd tonight, she felt it to her core like a creeping shiver which caused her to leave her hand on the door knob with a fixed gaze on the wood. Until she caught sight of the smoke over her shoulder that crept from the alley itself. This wasn’t anything like a morning mist, and she was quick to notice so. Even the birds, the crickets, or the far away docks was rendered silent, no bells, nor footsteps. She took a moment to look around before settling her eyes back on the alley. Peeling away from Hangman’s Firearms, she approached the alley and carefully slipped herself off the stoop with delicate steps. Her feet planting quietly on the ground, which her movements forced the thick layers of mist near her legs to sway out. One footfall at a time, with a gloved hand gracing the closer wall at her side, she advanced further into the alley, until reaching an opening. There, she found the source of the miasma, as it pooled away from a figure’s robe which stood in the center of her vision. Her heart raced when she very much felt it staring her way. And she stood as immobile as a deer in the headlights. The ominous aura she felt, forced her to be careful, to choose her next actions carefully. She didn’t speak, her verdant gaze specked with the touch of fel was locked upon said figure.

The figure's dark visage leaned in the woman's direction, where its hands -naked to their bone and seethed in a dark aura moved together slowly. “You have been summoned.” It spoke, both hands moving together at that time. Its bare white knuckles intertwined as the figure steeped its chin; baring her the briefest glimpse of the fire in its eyes. Briefly. Proceeding then to pull the curtains open, exposing a portion of its ribs. There inside the cavity was a soulshard, glowing with at least a candle's worth of light, though not enough to breach the vassel's titular darkness. “Step forward .... and reach into my heart.” The shard's brightness was peaking in intensity, urging Liora forward with another dull, slow drawl of the figure's voice. “You knew the day ...would come.” 

Liora watched the figure as it moved and spoke. What was that? And why did its words striked her as familiar? She approached cautiously, gazing into the pits of flames that were the sockets of its skull beneath a shroud. With a hesitant hand drawing in, as she was lured towards the faint light at its core, the tips of her gloved fingers brushed upon the shard.The shard let out a flash of purple over the sound of shattered glass as Liora's fingertips grazed its surface. Within an instant they were gone -a woman, gawking with a look of shock, trembling and reaching forward- and then gone. That was all the alley ever saw…

Upon being released to the portal's end, Liora would step out into a large open room. Above the tables hung a grand victorian chandelier. Its dark iron limbs hosting small bulbs of dim opal fire by the hundreds.  The figure who had brought her there -wherever there was- had abandoned her to the dining room of an estate she'd never been. In her palm she still possessed the shard, but it no longer had much light to give, and likely had no further worth. The two large tables in the room's center had glass surfaces and stood on the backs of copper snakes. It wasn't garnished with plates or cutlery, and judging the the thick layer of dust that hugs its corners, it must have gone unappreciated for quite some time. The curtains overhanging the room's grand arched windows appeared to have once been the flags of war. The banner's crest would ring familiar, vaguely. Perhaps it was something that Liora had seen before; perhaps while sipping on her tea, or while dreaming of faceless men. A human heart surrounded by feathers, each and all engulfed in flame. The most modern incarnation of house Tarinval. She would recognize that, eve if just on intuition alone. At each far wall of the dining room was a shelf of books as tall as the average man. The selection from Liora tell at a distance would appear rather sparse, as was the bookshelf nearest to her. And at the far end of the room was a set of heavy doors. 

Looking about the place with steps recoiling and pivoting as though disoriented. She didn’t recognize this place at all, and was against all odds. Yet, upon further scan, she did remember their House’s crest, long forgotten, or had it been thrashed in the back of her memories, it did surfaced upon seeing it. Realization dawn on her, and her heart raced. Taking deep breaths, she had to remain calm. Why was she brought here? For a year now, she had suffered visions- although cut away by Calemir’s aid, they haven’t been brought to surface again. This couldn’t be a vision, this was real, where she stood, far away from Stormwind, far away from anyone she knew. After recollecting herself, she decided to wander the room, brushing her fingers along the back lines of a few books upon a nearby shelf. Knowledge, history, geography, biology. She was too distracted to read, neither would she dare to for the moment. Looking towards the only exit, a large set of door, she began making her way there to see if she was locked inside, though half way there, the doors would crack and swing wide open before the silhouette of a woman stood in its midst. Clad in very few leathers, if only for the bottom portion of her frame, the rest was covered in wine colored scales and golden circlet about her arms and breasts alike. A black tattered scarf rounding her neck for two loose end to fall long her back. Large horns protruded from her head with long ivory hair slicked backward and over the mid length of her back. Her gaze met with felfire’s abundancy and a sly smile shifting to an ill intent fanged grin. Yet, she courteously bows with a dip of her upper frame whilst her gaze remained on Liora. “Darling, come long. He’s been waiting for you.” Straightening herself, she gestured out of the room. It took Liora a long moment before she decided to continue, but what other choice did she had. All the while, she was curious. Her mind filled with unanswered questions, perhaps today she’ll finally have them answered. Opting then with determination, she followed the huntress out of the room. 

The main corridor was long and and lined with suits of imperial armor set on display. The positions they were placed in were poses of combat, with long steel blades raised in every which dimension with such disregard for the walkspace that anyone passing would have to step around at certain points. At the end was another large door, but this one was more like the entrance to a garrison with its strong iron frame and reinforced wood. Lidrayn would take quick work of the door's runic cipher, whispering the inscription and tracing the shapes with a skillful touch. The huntress leaned back and stepped aside as the door crept open, and a thin ray of light from inside the room crept into the hall.  “Whatever questions you have, young Tarinval, should be answered just past this door.” Lidrayn affirms this with a stern nod, and proceeds to widen the gap with a shouldered nudge.

Upon entering yet another large room, Liora was greeted with pleasant lighting, dim and easy on the eyes. Unlike the sickly opal flames of the previous room, the chandelier above her now glows a gentle sunset orange. The carpet beneath her boot was regal and soft, she could almost feel how fine the fur. Five unlit brazier reside in the shadow of a 20ft tall mural along the entire western wall. It was the heart and feathers, but in beautifully visceral detail. The blood was rich, with every vein and feather detailed with the most opulent dyes. A great deal of funding must have gone into that, no doubt. On the opposite wall was a tall arching window, which faces the sun. Sadly, it was later in the day when she'd left Stormwind, and where she was now the sun had already fully set, and the mural had little supporting light. A large dark burgundy rug covers the entire floor. Lidrayn on the other side, gave the door another hard shove to seal the woman in -followed by the subtle, dampened noise of gears and levers grinding into place.  There at the room's far end stood a throne of human skulls sealed in granite mixed with other skeletal remains. Seated upon it her eyes would climb to observe what appeared to be the /thing/ that had brought her in. The room is spacious from one end to the other, and she wouldn't be able to make out anything past the thick aura of darkness that seems to characterize its presence. However, as she took that second step, she had very likely noticed the figure lift its head.

Marching in, Liora advanced within the room whilst the doors sealed shut behind her, forcing her to peer back, and onto Lidrayn as the huntress proceeded to stride aside and rest about far section of the room. There were many things for her eyes to catch sight of afterwards, though mostly the mural painted in fine details. If she was told as a young kid what each piece of it represented, she surely had forgotten as well. It’s been so long ago, and so many things piled over her memories in weight to have it crushed away. Eyes were on her, in this regal place. Maintain yourself, she ought to think. She settles her eyes then on the figure atop the throne, this was no king, no man, but pride at its prime. She did not recognize him, but she was clever enough to have her doubts closer to the truth than she wished for. She walked closer, her footfalls silent over the soft carpet before she progressively came to a nearby halt, her head needing to incline back to peer searchingly at him. “Why…” Was the very same question she asked him the day he had found her fleeting on a horse in the Wetlands. But this time, her tone felt heavier, and meant for more than one thing. A question to inquire everything that is. Her heart raced heavily, part of her wished to deny it all, part of her sought to disappear, and never be found again. She knew who this was, though didn’t voice it out as though incapable to even acknowledge it. Her stoic appearance in the face of he, deep down a storm ignited, and the hard lifts her chest created through breathing signed it so. 

As Liora moved towards the carpet’s center, so too had the cloaked figure begun rising somewhat slowly from the throne. His nails were hooked into the tattered edges of his cowl. A head of brittle silver falls over the warlock’s shoulders as the hood comes down; revealing a bright red pair of burning orbs.

“Why?” Came his response. His scythe, had begun to manifest from the miasma, into his awaiting palm, was long and bent in the shape of a farmer’s scythe. Its blade was long and curved with a sheik gloss. He raised it towards the muraled wall. He would wait for Liora’s eyes to follow it there. “This, Liora is the crest of your home. The symbol that you shall one day carry into battle. “ As he spoke, his dark shroud was fading, dripping off of him like sweat. His visage was a pale shade and badly sunken, his skin stretched thin and tight around the cheeks and lips. He cut a glance towards her, and locked eyes. “You’ve grown so very much… there is no longer any doubt within me that you would wield that flag with honor and grace. But that does not say enough about why you’re here today…”

The warlock released his scythe into the air – where it proceeded to levitate at his side. “The full answer to that would seem as simple as it is complex… as is any questions truly worth being asked…” He drawls for a moment, the warlock’s fingertips tapping thoughtfully against his chin. He then looked to her again and said, “Before you are ordained, I believe that it would be important for you to ask your questions now.” Just there, from the corner of his lips, came the smallest grin. “I’m sure you’d have a few..”

Bearing the crest of Tarinval, the House had meaning after all, or did it. From the figure, where she thought bones had no flesh, she saw the sunken visage of her father. His form no longer at his prime, yet, his aura told otherwise, it was heavy, intoxicating even. Her eyes cast forth towards the painting. “What does it present. All crests have its meaning.” Then they reeled towards him once more. She wasn’t as soft as the other time they had met. There was no rushing into his arms for this reunion, in fact, she didn’t knew which emotion to present herself with, for she was angered, confused, and longing, whilst curious of this whole ordeal. “You need not to hide what you are from me. Husk.” With a hand she gestured towards him. “You always wanted more than immortality. I was birthed a human, rather than elf. You infected me with your fel, and you left me without guidance.” Her dulled gaze rested upon him heavily. She sought hard to hide what her chest felt, her lips pursing and biting within themselves. His love had always been strong, but as was his scoldings. She once feared and respected him at once. “And this place.” She gestured around. “This is not home, I would of recognized it.”

Lips moved about those within the room, but the words fell mute to her, as though she'd lost the ability to understand her own tongue or any for that matter. They slowly droned out, until nought but a sound could be heard.

"I'm not needed here."

"I don't belong here..."

"...I shouldn't even be here..."

(A Recollected Memory.)

[liora-tarinval]

Restless Nights

Docked at the harbor, was Serendipity, Peter’s schooner which had been made home for the pair. Out on the main deck, Bengal stood overlooking the vibrant life of the Dead Sun Harbor, leaning over by the ropes of a shroud with Athelo sitting by her side. Her gaze distanced as she withdrew within her thoughts. All sounds blurred like a distant memory, until none was heard but the thumping of her own heart. The slow pacing of a blood flow for the cadence of easing beat. It was comforting, yet lacking. There wasn’t a time in her life where she had this long of a moment to rest, to relax, to be at ease. The second beat of a heart was felt within this moment of withdrawal. It was disconcerting, invasive. It felt like someone was at her back, ready to slit her throat over the drums of two. The light kicks felt within her stomach, stroke thoughts of the many times she’d been beaten. Despite this, despite the hand that subconsciously settled against the handle of her blade at her back, another feeling lingered within her core. This second heartbeat, as much as it had brought her restraint and discomfort, she felt obliged by instinct to keep its drums ongoing.

A nudge was felt at her leg, and Bengal snapped to reality, looking down towards the snapdragon at her side. A quiet gurgling hiss escaping its maw as the creature felt a subtle distress from its caretaker. Bengal released the tight hold at her blade from her back and settled a hand over the snapdragon’s snout in reassurance. Shifting on her heels, she wandered back within the main cabin. 

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The feeling only grew more persistent as time passed. And it grew in the form of restlessness. Something she was guilty to admit, even to herself, but she couldn’t ignore it. The thrill of a blood rush, to feel on the verge of death’s door, something she has adapted to quite well, was stripped from her. The accustomed sound of ligaments breaking within her hold, or her own shattering in turn. The scent of iron filling the air, as the ground paved with broken bodies. There was never a time where she could feel more alive than those very moments where any blows or misstep could lead to her demise, and the demise of another. Where life and death stood side by side on the edge of a cliff.

That is what a tool is, what a weapon should be. Forged, but incomplete. Thoughts had been conflicted since her time within the Harbor, since meeting everyone within, since allowing Peter within her life. Pondering everyday if she was better off without them, and if they were better off without her. No one desires a half forged and broken tool. Yet much growth and effort had been given despite it. Times were easier when she lacked care for all those around her. 

Perhaps it was the better that her forging was never completed, with a single moto being used as an obstacle for it. Only kill the monsters out there. Never sully your hands on those who weren’t deemed such.

Don’t let the thrill take over, less you become the monster, less you become like your mother.

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Another night of restlessness, as kicks were felt within her expanding stomach. Reeling her back into reality, and away from the reappearance of her nightmares. Her eyes fluttered open, staring up to the roof as her hands curled around her pudgy stomach. Was the harsh beating of her own racing heart caused the second to stir? Has she disturbed what grew within her? She couldn’t tell, and was still estranged from this. An inaudible apology slipped past her lips, and her brows knit in concern. Thoughts flowed her mind whilst silence surrounded her. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t worthy of this. It wasn’t the lifestyle she sought. Yet here she was, apologizing to something that was yet to be shaped. She was apologizing to what it may go through in life, to what may attempt to shatter it. Was it better off not seeing the light of day? To never know the struggles to come? To not have it go through the same pain she has gone through? Her eyes shut, as fingers clenched over her stomach. Something else has kept her from terminating this growth. She couldn’t shake that feeling away, and she didn’t know what it was. An instinct, perhaps, her code of life, maybe both. Deep slow breaths were made to tone the beat of her own heart, to slow down the pace of time, and the pace of her inner thoughts. Maybe all this was a dream, an illusion. She wondered still if she wasn’t locked in one, an inception ready to leave her with a twisted end in another attempt to shatter her.

It wouldn’t be a first.

@peterwayland @deadsunharbor