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Shadows over Rosemont

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    #76
    "All men are boys, milord. Whether they be under ripe or over ripe. I'm personally attracted to others who are more in my age category - no offense. It's merely the first law of alchemy: things mixed unequally cannot find a balance, and inevitably in some quarters are trapped in entropy and death."

    Edora forced a smile at the vampire.

    "That the Stromkirks are patrons to the arts and sciences is indeed a wonderful thing. All of Nephalia owes a great deal off thanks for that. There is much that your long years of knowledge can do to excel the learning of new blood - the more minds exposed to knowledge, the further advanced a civilization will become. I thank you as well for your open invitation to the manner - if ever we have need to visit, the insignia shall be worn."

    It did not escape her notice that he mentioned the tournament, even though he had not been in the room when she had said any such thing (or at least had not appeared to be.) It was strange that he should barge in and boast so plainly that she did not have privacy here. Now she was sure to arrange for a better sanctum. A blunder by his part? Surely if it were, his elders would punish him for it. So she must assume it deliberate. To intimidate her? More likely, but still amateurish. Perhaps it was a flaw of their kind to act too boldly and arrogantly. She retained a dignified and diplomatic tone, still observing manners even if he was making a slight mockery of them.

    "Perhaps. The Stromkirk Blademasters are famed for their skills. Good morrow to you, milord."

    She let him leave, and then stepped to Melena once he had left and patted her upon the arm.

    "Glamoured you, did he? No matter. This was just posturing and prodding - maybe he really was bored."
    Last edited by BlueSlime; 1 week ago.

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      #77
      Spoiler


      (The stormkirks are the patrons to arts and etc, mixed up my vampire-tribes derp a derp. Falkenraths are half-feral, and the de-facto lowest tribe, the Voldaren are or act as nobles and the Markovs are the leaders and magic users. Stormkirks are often philantropists and the primary tribe of Nephalia, you might encounter other vampires in this region, but not without a good reason.)

      "Yes, yes, entropy and death reach your kind far too swiftly in all matters.. but nonetheless, perhaps I'll go enjoy this towns night-life." He proclaimed with a certain emphasis, wandering out.

      Melana meanwhile had narrowed her eyes. "I'd like to posture him upon a rack and poke him with a wooden stake... It seems my.. mind is too weak." She complained, though as usual more or less composed in her anger.. though her expression gave away that this particular vampire did not want to find himself alone with an uncharmed Melana. "Their arrogance is asenine and by all accounts, these ones are the least worst. I have no idea how you can remain so composed..
      Well, at least we hopefully made it through your.. visits for the day. Do you wish to rest now M'lady? Due to.. recent events I suggest you lock the door."


      It was getting a little late, adrenaline rush from nightly undead visits aside.
      Play my naughty games here:

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        #78
        Once the vampire had truly left, Edora did let a long breath out through flared nostrils and a slight shake of her head. A pompous windbag in undead flesh, that one. She knew there were Stromkirks of intelligence and grace, but sadly for all their vaunted "selection criteria" they did seem to let in some odd choices to their blood sucking coterie. What value was there in preserving a mind that could not discuss the basics of science, magic, or some useful trade? What was the subject matter he'd name-dropped? Markov's treatise on morality? Some bloviated manifesto that excused decadence and the right of might most likely, and unconcerned with progress. She personally saw a use for true patrons of the arts and sciences, even 'monsters' such as the vampires, but they had better send a better representative if ever she were going to work with them properly.

        She mentally checked herself. More likely her gentleman caller was not their true representative. Not unlike her new stablehand, organizations required an expendable middleman sometimes.

        "We mustn't kick the hornet's nest just because the opportunity presents itself, Melena. His glamour will not work so well next time, as you will practice steeling yourself. Honestly, his eagerness to prove his superiority has done little but to provide us a clear list of things to do to prepare against the Stromkirks if ever they decided to truly move against us. If he were my underling, he'd be under my own rack. I'll make sure to thank his betters for sending him and alerting us to how effective glamouring methods are and giving lessons on architecture as it lends itself to the vampiric rites of hospitality and forbiddance. They'll crucify him for his recklessness and he'll have none to blame except himself."

        Edora smirked cruelly, patting her bodyguard's shoulder reassuringly. Yes, Edora was quite capable of malice and mercy in equal measure.

        "I supppose that is why I remained composed. By the way he entered and the childish lines he used, I knew I was in no real danger, and his blustering was evident to see. The fly was playing at being a spider, and it was amusing to watch him admit boredom when he couldn't keep up. How then can I remain angry when I see such a fragile cur pissing about? But his glamour of you is a slight I shan't forget."

        She moved away to the bed and began to undress herself, changing into her night shift.

        "Yes, I shall rest now. The day has been long and tense, and I doubt it will get better anytime soon. I don't suspect it will matter, but we'll lock the door."

        In her own mind, Edora was already thinking about constructing a new dwelling. Something more to her style. The traditional house would remain - she wasn't about to dismiss Rosemont tradition. But the noblewoman had always envisaged herself in her own wizard's tower someday - there was no reason to delay that - and to oversee the construction herself, perhaps with some nice wards from her budding friends in the Church, and some countermeasures of her own against immortal and mortal intrusion alike. She would very much like to put a sour face on every single doubter who thought they were going to pull one over on her rule. One day, they would all come to learn that neither wizards nor Rosemonts, but especially not a wizarding Rosemont, was to be fucked with.

        "Well then. Good night."

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          #79
          Spoiler


          Melana listened to Edora with a slight chuckle, and bowed out, albeit a little too late to miss some of Edora's nudity. "Good night m'lady." She said with a bit of a chuckle as she stepped out. As Edora's bodyguard her quarter was close enough that a loud shout would alert whom Edora had already gotten to know as a light sleeper.

          Edora's dreams were an odd mess, hard to focus on.. a lot had happened in these past two days after all. In her dreams she was visited by Arvon Stormkirk rather than this Markus fellow and for some reason, there was a chalk board in her room.:
          "Now. We do remember the law of equilibrium, yes? For both magic and alchemy, an equal amount of force must be invested for a result to occur. While it may seem to the uninitiated that you create a flame out of nothing, just by mixing a liquid and a powder, the flame was already innate in the material. While it may seem more abstract with magic, in truth you use the magical potential all around you and channel it with the knowledge you aquired." He taught a basic principle, more memory than dream, though as soon as Edora wondered how this pertained to her current situation, the dream took on a darker tone.
          "So, death was already innate in him." Suddenly, Edora stood in the crypt, with her father. "And the reaction-catalyst is fairly obvious too. But who was the alchemist! Who?" Suddenly, Edora found herself being looked upon by several people, some faces she had just recently met, all nonsensical, as she was often privately tutored. Vincent, Melana, The Archmage, The Lunarch, even the Merchant-guy all looking at her as she struggled to find the right answer.

          Wait! This wasn't fair. She couldn't possibly now this. It was an unfair question! She jerked up to insist upon this... and blinked a little as the morning light shining through her window blinded her.

          -Although it was not much of a physical adventure, encountering all the different representatives was still a learning experience for Edora, who spents some time in the morning studying up on her spells.. seeing the things ahead and her plans, she might well need them.
          (Cue level-up music; just edit your sheet when convenient. Btw, as your bodyguard Melana automatically follows about half a level behind.)-

          Edora spent the morning alone unless she called for a maid, perhaps Vincent had ordered everyone to give the new countess some space, or perhaps they weren't quite sure how to treat the new countess. If she delayed too long, someone would come looking for her for the purpose of ceremony. Melana remained pretty silent herself unless called upon, apparently a little glum after yesterdays vampiric encounter still.
          Last edited by Pervy; 5 days ago.
          Play my naughty games here:

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            #80
            The dreams that she entered into ran together for the most part. Some were seemingly inconsequential and ultimately emotional in the greater balance. Images and memories of her father, and the times she shared with him. Sadness was there, but not as much as there should have been. It was odd. She should have felt more. Perhaps it was the tension and the stress of her current predicament. At some point soon, the true loss would hit her like a hammer struck the iron on an anvil, but for now, the mystery of Count Rosemont's murder consumed the tides of Morpheus.

            Death was an innate state, entirely natural, which was the resting point for all life. The thrum of life, it had once been labeled, was like a string on an instrument, plucked by fate and vibrating more or less wildly, with its frequency, adding either harmony or discord or some mixture of both to the grand performance that was the orchestra of all life. Eventually the vibration ends. At times it is allowed to drown out slowly, or at other times, it is touched and stopped deliberately or by accident. All vibration, no matter how grandly struck, coursed naturally to stillness. Arvon Stromkirk had smiled when he told them that this was how the Touch of Death spell worked. That it touched the vibration of a mortal's coil and stilled it. A fascinating treatise, on a theoretical spell well beyond her current capability, and outside of her field of study, yet she had enjoyed the lecture nonetheless. Now this memory surfaced again, alongside Arvon's instruction on the law of equilibrium. Magic touched many things - for life was not the only thing that thrummed throughout the multiverse. Portals opened and closed, gravity pulled, fire exploded, and earth quaked. All could be adjusted.

            The question of her father's murderer flashed in her mind. Impossible to know for certain just yet. The facts of the case had not been catalogued. She must investigate further. There was a plot in all this. Could it have been only to trade one Rosemont for another? How she resented this notion, for it smacked of folly and disrespect.

            In the morning she composed herself. She called for breakfast to be taken in her room. Then called again for her handmaids to dress her. Word was sent to Melena that the Countess was awake and readying to move. Breakfast for the knight was provided too. She was not in a rush, but resolved to seek Vincent out before the need to rouse her was called for. The ceremony, she informed him, was to be a solemn affair in the Church, out of respect for the passing of her father and acknowledgement of the Faith. Those who had met with her yesterday, aside from the grinning fox and the Stromkirks (due to daylight hours) were invited to observe. An announcement in the town square was made, and there would be a public procession, where she would allow the people to see her as she rode through the streets in her carriage.

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              #81
              The morning dining and dressing routine went, well, just like that, routinely. Once commanded the maids easily fell into their usual rythm of preparing Edora, from adjusting her dress to brushing her hair. The morning preperations went easy enough, Melana seeming quite happy at being bad in her old ceremonial armor, Vincent seeming proud.. if a little tired as he followed by Edora's side and station.

              The people of the town gathered, curiously, some Edora had known for quite a while, others blending into the masses. The announcement had been too recent to make it crowded, but it caught some attention.
              Of those invited, all but the Lunarch came, the same having excused herself with her duties. Grinning-Fox was also among the masses, somewhere, Edora was pretty sure.

              When it came to the ceremony, Edora entered a small, traditional church with colored glass windows that still displayed the Archangel Avacyn, once protector of humanity, though the holy symbol of the altair had been exchanged for the Scythe-like Symbol of Sigarda, the only remaining Arch-angel that had not turned against humanity in a horrible purge at the height of the demon-wars.

              The priestess consequentially wore a cloak of dusky gold with green seams, Sigarda's colors, as she nodded to Edora.. what was her name again... Bishop Maria Trisentia? Yes, Edora was quite sure of that.


              The speech the priestess held was something quite generic, about Edora being a protector to the people as the angels protected humanity, how by birth-right and lineage she was chosen as their leader, enough of a generic speech for Edora to grow bored enough to look over the people with her...
              A few actually decent looking guards had found themselfs for presentative and ceremonial purposes, boasting high quality, if old looking ceremonial armor bearing Edora's emblem and trying to look intimidating.
              Vincent, in a ceremonial outfit bearing both his emblem which looked like a duelling blade and the Rosemont-arrow seemed uncharacteristically touched for a man of his experience and expertise, sitting in the front, together with some of the long-term servants of the house. Melana was among them too, though her expression remained calm and stoic as usual.
              In the middle rows were some lesser clergy, the merchants, remaining composed but seeming disinterested, as well as a few of the wealthier townsfolk, who likely came here hoping for continued stability, as much as one could hope for in these lands at least.
              The Archmage, at the back of the chapel looked positively bored, content mingling with the commoners there and striking up a whispered conversation with one of Edora's newer guard-recruits, seeming to pay little attention.

              Overall, the ceremony went quite smooth, with the priestess looking at Edora, expecting her to confirm an oath of leadership and protection at the very least, as she opened a chest Vincent had brought with him. As Edora suspected, it contained a single arrow, of ebon wood and with a metallic tip as dark as midnight. Nephalia had little use for crowns and jewelry. Sure, some could be found decorating the nobility, but usually, it was reserved for vampires, who could fend for themselfs. With the frequent attacks of ghouls and other lesser undead, werewolfs, lost ghosts, devils, demons and feral vampires, a wise noble wanted not a crown but a helmet and no royal sceptre, unless that sceptre was blessed by two kinds of holy magic and robust enough to bash in some heads if necessary.

              The priestess nodded encouragingly, making some odd hand-gestures that likely ment Edora should feel blessed, though, there was some actual magic in some of what the priestess did, simple and symbolic as it was.
              (Edora benefits from a Ceremony spell, coming of age, adding 1d4 to all ability checks for 24 hours. It's about mid-day by the end of the ceremony, time-wise.)
              Play my naughty games here:

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