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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 4, 2023 22:13:25 GMT -5
Sylvari trudged up the rocky hillscape, tuning her arcane sense for any glimmer of the current that might be felt in the desolation of this place. She had tired of simply surviving under Romarii's guidance and felt the need to bring about justice in the world once again. To her surprise, Romarii gave Sylvari her blessing, stating that she would need to exercise out 'these childish notions of heroism'. Sylvari had huffed in response but was glad she would not have to go against her friend's wishes. Though to call her a friend is maybe a bit generous. It's not like I can come to talk with her about my feelings. Still, any port in a storm...
As Sylvari scanned the lifeless plot of land, her memory leapt back, recalling her departure from the Crescent Isles. She had wanted to go somewhere remote, a place where there were few who would stand up for the weak, a place where she might make a difference. Wish granted, Sylvi Sylvari thought, with a tinge of grim humor. Her trip to the Ash Lands had been anything but pleasant. From the shady characters she was forced to deal with to wrestle out information of evil from to the general malaise of the few honest folk she saw, Sylvari was convinced this place had been accursed by the gods. Another dark chuckle escaped her lips. I should fit right in then.
Sylvari had happened upon news of the cult she was hunting in an alleyway, of all places. The source of the information had been a young pickpocket she had chased after and apprehended when she saw the boy pilfer a woman's purse. She bade the boy return it, gave him a few coins to feed himself, and asked if he knew of any strange dealings or evil in the region that had to be rooted out. Most of the boy's ramblings were dead ends at best and shallow lies at worst but mention of a supposed cult that had abducted children from the ramshackle soup kitchen the cutpurse frequented caught Sylvari's attention. After verifying the missing children with the cook at the location in question, she parceled together enough surmisings from various sources to suspect the cult was based in a hidden cave somewhere on the mountain.
And so now she searched. With no discernable landmarks to orient herself, Sylvari simply wandered aimlessly around the mountain. The small, jaded, logical part of Sylvari's mind protested that she wasted her time, seeking a needle in a haystack, but still she persisted. What if it was Azreal?
By a stroke of luck or fate, Sylvari noted a small, conspicuous indentation along one of the more sheer faces of the mountain path she walked, as she tapped her club absentmindedly along its surface. Eagerly, she examined the discrepancy, feeling around with her hand until she depressed a section of the wall that operated a mechanism to reveal a doorway. Sylvari left it open as she entered, removing the veil from her eyes to reveal the crimson glow beneath and flexing her jaw, showing ivory fangs. No point hiding what I am from evil. May they cower before me.
[Chaos Touched]The darkness swallowed her as Sylvari made her way by feeling the walls with her hands, still focused on her arcane sense. Eventually, down an array of twisting corridors, she felt the swirling of arcana being gathered and headed quickly towards it. Dark thirst flamed in her breast as her fangs ached to puncture flesh. Time to break my imposed fast.
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Post by Aledüne Nevaar on Sept 5, 2023 12:49:44 GMT -5
The cave was dark, dank and wet. Only lit by the few torches that the cultists used to navigate along the walls. The initial entrance is cramped, and Sylvari would find it difficult to press herself through given the size of her weapons and armour, but she manages just fine with a little time. The cave system then expands into multiple paths, but only one is lit up by the torches, so following them was not very difficult. Ahead of her she starts to hear the voices of people talking, the path widening and the temperature goes up. In front of her light can be seen as Sylvari approaches a giant chamber decorated with various furniture and even a fireplace with the smoke finding its way out of a crack in the roof that allows for some light from the outside, but deep enough that the place still remains hidden.
Its clear the space is used as a form of gathering area for the cultists, and the way they move around and talk, it seems more like a social club than anything else. About 30 or so men have gathered, everyone wearing red cloaks, and a mask depicting a devil with horns. With Sylvari's arcane sense she smells the scent of magic from three of the men in the room. The nearest one standing with his back to her close to the entrance, the second walking in the crowd, and the third sitting on a throne like chair. The one in the chair has a mask slightly different from the others in that its made of metal instead of wood like the rest. Obviously a figure of authority.
Aldeüne was the second in the crowd. He was bored, for whatever reason he had believed he might learn something from these idiots who pranced about, sacrificing women and children to their demonic deity. But their magic was about as advanced as a novice at best. Not to mention their vulgar practices. He had initially found the group while traveling, and having learned to live alone with what he was he had begun to search for ways to learn more about the dark arcana. Their leader, who was nothing but a newbie demonologist had been gathering a following as a way to increase his influence had approached him after hearing about someone looking for knowledge of the dark arts. Offering him membership, Aledüne had accepted then for no other reason than his hope of finding something interesting, never truly intending on staying long.
As he talked with the various members, thinking about how he would like nothing more than to end their pathetic existence, he senses something. A heartbeat approaching the group from the entrance. Thinking nothing of it at first, he dismisses the presence until he notices the irregular beating of its heart. Excitement, adrenaline? Turning around to look he sees the woman as she enters into the chamber fully armed, but what caught his attention was her blood red eyes and fangs. He now understood what she was feeling, HUNGER.
A gleeful smile spreads across his face as he realises what was about to happen, and his own own hunger flared up as he senses hers. The beast screamed beneath the surface, and without thinking he let it control his actions. Ripping off the red cloak he had used to cover himself with, revealing his usually black one underneath. He throws off his mask and bites into the man he had just been having a conversation with, drinking.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 5, 2023 13:38:40 GMT -5
Three magic users: the most dangerous threats. Have to take them out first. Hopefully, one of the others will know where the captives are. Sylvari stalked into the chamber as red-robed individuals milled about, talking with each other without a care in the world, like they were in a marketplace and not a den of evil.
[Chaos Touched] The first individual thrumming with magic was before her, his back exposed in a pitiful lack of awareness. [Eldritch Claws] The red robes the cultists wore proved to be insufficient defense as the arcane sigils on Sylvari's knuckles flared with flickering darkness, creating blackened claws of pure eldritch energy, an instant before Sylvari had ripped through the man's chest from the back. She held her arm steady, skewering the man on it, as she extended a too-long tongue to lap up the blood flowing like tiny waterfalls from the corners of his mouth.
The greater population of those gathered had not even realized the death of their comrade as Sylvari's fangs punctured the soft skin of his neck, drinking deeply and quickly. You will know the fear of those children: to be preyed upon by your betters. A whirl of motion in her periphery caught Sylvari's eye. One of the cultists had turned to devour one of their own. Quite literally. Another vampire? Gods, just my luck. Well, if it's content to deal with the other cultists, I can leave it to the end, at least.
Being in the middle of those congregated, the other vampire's motion drew a fair bit more attention, seeing the cultists with their wits about them drawing steel and moving toward him. This worked to Sylvari's advantage, who was able to slip between moving bodies toward the other one filled with arcana, sitting on a makeshift throne. Sylvari felt revulsion like a wave creep up her throat, but she steeled herself and approached. Almost pitiable, Sylvari thought as she walked right up onto the dais holding the presumed leader. She took hold of the man's metal mask with her claws and stared into his eyes, her own flaring even brighter than usual. [Powerful Presence] "Kill them," Sylvari ordered in a low tone, turning around to see her captive audience before bellowing out loudly. "KILL THEM ALL!"
The vampire did not draw her club for battle as was her custom. No, this was a battle of tooth and claw. She would bathe in the blood of all, without a weapon as intermediary.
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Post by Aledüne Nevaar on Sept 5, 2023 15:11:10 GMT -5
Dropping the body as the cultist starts to surround him he saviours the moment, unafraid of the numbers he was facing. His eyes follows Sylvari for a moment as she moves to stalk the outside of the gathering, moving towards the cult leader who looked at him in horror. Seeing his chance to put on a little display, he spreads his arms to his side, reveal two large bat like wings that protruded from his back.
"Gentlemen, this gathering has been a travesty, and so it is my utmost pleasure to call the party to an end. I will be sure that non of you go home alive, and I hope you all burn in hell with the very demons you so recklessly worship." His voice is gentle and polite, speaking in an almost showmanship like way. As he finished his little speech, his nail ignites into black burning claws that extend from his hand.
Without another word he lounges at the nearest of the men, his cheap iron sword is sliced straight through as he is split from neck to groin causing almost instant death. It is then that Sylvari cries out for the death of everyone, and Aledüne is happy to oblige, continuing his assault from one man to the next, his wings still out are used as bludgeoning instruments to keep his enemies away, as he moves from one victim to the next. Occasionally he looks to be cornered only to send a blast of black energy at range and his wings to navigate over any obstacles.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 5, 2023 15:33:03 GMT -5
Sylvari paused to survey the room after slicing up the fourth cultist in her path. It was utter chaos. Between the leader she had enthralled and the surprise vampire who seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, the cultists were being cut down like so many bushels of wheat before the farmer's sickle. A fifth cultist foolishly threw herself at Sylvari, her clumsy dagger strike deflected easily by the plate cuirass the vampire wore. Another heartbeat, another pool of blood thrumming with arcana that longed to be devoured. After cracking the brave woman open, Sylvari was happy to oblige.
The enthralled leader, admittedly weak as he was, proved to be an effective minion against the rest of the gathered members, who were reluctant to strike their head. The thrall had no such hesitation, cutting down swaths with a unique curved crimson dagger and shooting out small motes of dark energy at any that crossed his path.
Another hooded enemy came with a partner to attack Sylvari. Finally, a bit of strategy from these louts. Not that it will avail them any... Sylvari expertly ducked the first's clumsy mace strike, using her newfound elevation to be in prime striking position for the second, whose midsection was rent with the dark claws. Sylvari lifted the body in the same motion and hurled it at the first, toppling him to the ground. Sylvari leapt and was on him in an instant, hungry fangs tearing into his throat. Few and fewer cultists remained, but for the moment, Sylvari reveled in the opportunity to embrace the beast within without fear of unleashing it on an innocent.
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Post by Aledüne Nevaar on Sept 5, 2023 17:39:06 GMT -5
As the number of cultist dwindled, it became ever easier to deal with those remaining, now it was possible to incapacitate them one by one as Aledüne slit their tendons and knocked them unconscious. It was almost too easy, and as the opportunity presented itself he fed again. Anyone remaining was too afraid to attempt anything or had managed to escape. There was no worry about them talking, as doing so would only doom themselves, no, what now worried Aledüne was the other vampire who was still fighting the remaining cultists brave enough to stand up for themselves. Not that it mattered, he finished his side of things and then only stood there as he watched her rip another mans throat out. It was quite the sight, and she was quite the beauty. But his only other memory of another vampire wasn't a good one, and as such his claws remain visible, and his wings unfurled in case he needed them.
As the last have died or surrendered, he stands there waiting for her. He watches her with careful eyes, offering her a polite smiles, revealing his own sharp row of fangs and teeth ready capable of ripping out a mans throat. He wasn't going to appear weak, but he didn't desire to fight either.
"Now that the trash is dealt with, how about we introduce ourselves?" He moves over to one of the chairs that hadn't been ruined or covered in blood and sits down, showing his intention of talking to be genuine.
"Do not worry, I have no desire to seek a fight with you, instead I am rather curious to speak with you if you would be so gracious." Something in his tone tells Sylvari that he is being truthful. He leans over and pulls another chair over so she has a place to sit and with a motion offers her the seat.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 5, 2023 18:16:31 GMT -5
As her thrall moved towards the stranger, incapable of distinguishing him from the other foes the trio had slaughtered, Sylvari closed her hand around his neck, fingers still wreathed in eldritch energy. The man crumpled under her grip almost instantly, falling to the floor in a heap most unbecoming of his station.
Her eyes narrowed at the other vampire, even as she let the dark claws over her fingers fall away in a half-hearted gesture of peace. She knew she could reform them again in an instant. Her façade of peace was a tactical one, however. She had seen the stranger mincing cultists faster than her and the thrall put together, even setting the large wings he sprouted indicating greater maneuverability aside. He was a threat not to be engaged with lightly.
Sylvari met the stranger's gaze with an imperious one of her own before looking disdainfully at the proffered chair and remaining standing. "I've no desire to speak with you, monster. I'm here for the children. Though... you were wearing the robes before, do you know where the captives are kept?" The irony of her words was not lost on Sylvari as she cringed inwardly at her words. He is a monster, and... and so am I. Sylvari looked around the room strewn with bodies and down at her own body, covered in blood.
She cautiously retrieved a rag from the small pack on her back, eyes glued to the other vampire, watching for signs of aggression, and began slowly wiping herself of excess blood. If the kids saw me like this, they're not likely to believe I'm anything but their executioner.
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Post by Aledüne Nevaar on Sept 5, 2023 18:46:25 GMT -5
He smiles patiently, observing her reaction to what she had done. She wasn't old, maybe even younger than him. He knew the feeling of surrendering to the beast, and he had grown to accept it when he needed it. She hadn't, not completely. And he knew the ecstasy and joy, the rush letting go would give, and the guilt that would come with inexperience. He recognized all of this because he had been there as well. He waits for her to wipe herself down, once more tapping the chair, asking her to sit down. He gave her a sympathetic look, as if to tell her he understood. That he could be the best friend to her in the world.
"I understand, but I am sorry to tell you the kids were dead even before I came here. Tonight was their celebration of the sacrifice they had made to some demonic patron. You are no monster for killing them, least of for simply listening to your inner beast."
He makes a pause.
"Though I understand the pain you bear as a new born, and the difficulty you must face each time you have to feed. I can only comfort you by telling you that it gets easier. I have only been at this for a short while as well, but I have had enough time to adapt."
He pauses, about to continue as one of the crippled cultists comes crawling towards him, hand outstretched. "Please spare me, I have a wife and child back at home. I just wanted a little power, you can't blame me for that, can you?" He reaches for Aledüne's sleeve, only to be silence by a quick slash across the face with the claws Aldeüne still had out. With a sigh he pulls them away as Sylvari had and returns to look at her, no remorse can be seen as he doesn't give the cultist a second glance.
"Sorry about the distraction, I wanted to introduce myself." He gets to his feet and bows. "Aledüne Nevaar. Aledüne is fine as I bear no noble title. And you are?"
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 5, 2023 20:51:16 GMT -5
"Too late..." Sylvari mumbled, her eyes having lost their luster. "I am too late..." She collapsed to her knees with the weight of the news. I came here to save them, to give them hope that there was a brighter tomorrow, and maybe... to give myself that same hope: that someone would rescue me from the darkness, too. But it was too late for them... and for me. Tears streamed down Sylvari's face as she realized Romarii was right again. There were no heroes.
She looked up through watery eyes to see Aledüne dispatch the begging cultist. If it were anyone else, in any other situation, Sylvari would have risen up in a righteous outrage for the dishonor. Here and now, though, she just looked on numbly. Sylvari brushed a still-bloody hand through her blonde hair, streaking what was formerly an immaculately cared-for mane with red. Aledüne's words, and subsequent introduction, were heard by Sylvari in a fugue-like haze. It took her a minute to process what was said, and even then, she could only croak out a few words. "Sylvari. My name is Sylvari."
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Post by Aledüne Nevaar on Sept 5, 2023 21:11:38 GMT -5
Seeing her break down he gets up to his feet, walks over to her and bends down on one knee.
"Let me take the pain away." His words, empathic, didn't sound like he meant to harm her. She knew the powers vampires had over the minds of others, and maybe it could help. At least right now she could lessen the heart wrenching pain that was filling her chest, causing her eyes to flood and her throat wanting to scream.
Before she could get through the cloudy mind and process a response he had already lifted her chin for her eyes to meet his gaze. Blue eyes, vibrant, almost unnaturally so. His eyes held an intense, piercing quality, like twin sapphires that seem to see through her very soul. She felt it reach into her depths and grab hold of the sorrow that was filling her before slowly pulling it out, replacing the pain with a resolution for the future, and a warm feeling for having tried her best. As she feels this he speaks to her in a warm comforting tone. Tough it sounds distant, making it difficult for her to hear what he says. As if she was a mere spectator to what now transpired.
"Its ok, you are not to blame. The culprits have been dealt with, and the children are in a better place. You no longer feel the grief that holds you, and instead you feel happy to have been so brave as you were for those kids. Continue your efforts in the future, and one day failure will lead you to success. You only loose if you give up trying."
His hand moves from her chin to her cheek and then over her hair. His hand feels strangely warm, as if his was the hands of a lover, father and mother all at the same time. He holds her gaze and with his other hand he reaches for hers to pull her up to her feet.
"You did good Sylvari. Now, come join me and lets talk."
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 5, 2023 21:38:49 GMT -5
"The children... are in a better place." Sylvari repeated back Aledüne's words in a monotone, almost inebriated fashion. She lifted a hand up to the tear tracks that traced the contours of her face, now rapidly drying, in confusion. There's no need to cry. I gave them justice, and this experience will give me the strength to be abler next time.
As Aledüne moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek and stroke her hair, Sylvari simply closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment. Warm... Warmer than any of their ilk that she had encountered, shallow list as it was. How long had it been since she received affection? Compassion? In another time, she might have been indignant at the contact, or at least flushed with embarrassment, but in this moment, there was only the pervasive feeling of rightness.
Aledüne extended a hand down to her, which she took, and led her to the chair that had initially been offered. Sylvari sat upon it, still gently smiling as Aledüne reseated himself in his own chair.
"Talk? With you? Yes... I think I'd like that."
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Post by Aledüne Nevaar on Sept 6, 2023 11:35:00 GMT -5
He nods, pleased that she seemed better. He allows a moment of silence as he watches her, studying her. His eyes are kind, but when she meets them its as if her whole life is laid out of display for him. As if she was an open book.
"Sylvari, I was surprised when I saw you. Searching for the children was admirable, and not something just anyone would do, especially alone. You might not have been here on time, but you acted like a hero all the same."
This is what he was good at, understanding people, reading them. A mentalist of sort. Her pain told a story, and the details were there for him to pick up and put together. Was it a game to him, yes. But Sylvari intrigued him, as he couldn't help but feel sympathy towards her as he had been in a similar position not too long ago. In a way he felt a kinship towards her and he wanted to get to know her.
"Your nature isn't your fault. You don't have to save someone for your own to be worth something, but why don't you tell me in your own words what it is that you were doing here. For what reasons did you want to save the children? Answer me and I will do the same, deal?"
His gentle smile never leaves his face, his presence a comforting one.
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 6, 2023 18:17:30 GMT -5
Aledüne's words were soft and distant, like trying to listen in with cotton-stuffed ears, but his emotions, his PRESENCE, was like being in the center of a hurricane. "Hero... me?" Still feeling the happy haze he helped her into, Sylvari took a second to process the weight of his compliment before flushing furiously. The scarlet on her cheeks was a shade lighter than the crimson of her eyes but no less intense. "I'm not a hero. At least, I haven't been for a long time, before," Sylvari mumbles, gesturing with exaggerated motions to her whole body, "All this. But, still. Romarii couldn't be right. She can't be. The only thing I don't regret was saving Azreal that day."
Sylvari was vaguely aware that she was dumping a lot of unexplained information on this stranger, but she couldn't bring herself to care, let alone begin processing how to explain it all. All she could do was rail against the unfairness of her circumstance, leaning on the interested ear of a compassionate stranger.
Sylvari then looked to him with sudden clarity. "You said you would answer me truthfully. You say it becomes easier: is that a good thing? Is there a sudden moment of clarity we reach where we can morally justify leeching of the essence of others to survive, or is it simply the accumulation of so many impacts to one's ethics from the erosion of this vile thirst that we can't spare the energy to fight for what's right anymore?" Gone was the happy haze in Sylvari's eyes, replaced by the hard steel of a woman tackling an existential crisis head-on.
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Post by Aledüne Nevaar on Sept 7, 2023 13:47:12 GMT -5
His face grows serious and nods. "Easier means in part that you will learn to rationalize what you are. We are beings that live outside the norm of society, but we are also cursed to forever be bound to the lives of others. Something we cannot live without."
His eyes brighten, and he smiles again. "But you are also free in choosing your approach. The only limitation is that you are bound to the lives of others after all. In the end you can choose how that bond presents itself and how you act upon it as long as you are careful of not pushing your limits."
He lifts a finger, as a but is coming. "But don't make the mistake of thinking you are just like your old self. A hero you might be to those you save, and your actions do certainly define WHO you are, but not WHAT you are. A monster lurks in your chest, and it will wrestle for control when it can. The sooner you accept this beast as a part of who you are the better off you will be. Rejection will only cause the beast to stir and hunger, and you are never getting away from it."
There is a pause as he looks at her reaction. "But remember that there are many species all across the world. It is better for you to think of yourself as just another creature with its own needs that needs to be met. You are no more evil than the wolf who hunt the pack of sheep for being what you are."
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Post by Sylvari Dawnsage on Sept 7, 2023 15:33:06 GMT -5
Sylvari wanted to provide a retort, to argue that vampires' capacity for rationale is what made them so monstrous, but her words were cut short by a memory, leaping into her mind without prompting.
It was a cold winter night. Soft white flakes of snow that would, at any other time, be a source of fun and excitement for young Sylvari instead were a source of irritation and dread. She looked forward to see her father stoically marching ahead of her, a giant bag packed with supplies slung over his shoulder, mirroring the tiny replica Sylvari had on her back. She trudged behind her father, short strides made weakly forcing her to fall further and further behind. Her short, shallow breaths caused fogs of mist to form in front of her face, as the night air stole away every bit of warmth in her body. Finally, she fell into the gathered snow and cried out, "Papa, I can't do it! It's too hard!" Sylvari's father stopped and turned on his heel from where he stood, several paces ahead, before retracing his steps to pull Sylvari to her feet. "You can, child, and you must." "Why do we have to cart these stupid packs all this way, anyway?" Her father got down on one knee, and placed her on it, providing a bridge for Sylvari against the snow below. "We are bringing these supplies to a village that has been snowed in, because no one else will." The man stared down at his daughter studying her carefully as he contemplated. "Do you know what makes an effective arbiter of justice, Sylvari?" The tiny blonde shook her head in response to the question. "A justiciar does not give up in the face of hardship. She may get knocked down, she may be delayed, but she always keeps pressing forward, no matter what obstacles are set before her. She will never fail her mission unless she retreats or stays down when evil fights against her." With that, the man grabbed the pack his daughter bore and slung it over his shoulder, right next to his own, and resumed walking, sparing no glance or instruction for his daughter to follow. She did so anyway.
Still teaching me lessons, old man? How ironic. Sylvari squared her face and reset her focus on the vampire before her. "You're right, my mind is still my own, and my future is mine to determine. I will not give into this evil, not for any time I still have in this world. You played a small part in reinforcing my resolve, and, for that, you have my gratitude. So tell me, Aledüne Nevaar: I know WHAT you are. Who are you?"
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