Rea Family/Dancer/Long Live The Queen

Act 1 - To Save the Woman he Loves

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

His old man nap turned into an old man sleep, as none of his retainers wanted the wrath when waking the Duke. Some time during the night, he blinked awake and stretched, lazily eyeballing the room. Mersault still lay unconscious, breathing lightly, each arm glinting in the moonlight from heavy shackles fastened to the bed frame. None of his retainers or guards were around, but someone had thrown a blanket over Dancer. The room was completely at peace, the only sounds breaking the night the two mens' breathing, and some crickets outside. Calm, peace. Words that had held little meaning to him for some years. But now, now he'd grown to like the calmness, the serine mountains covered in snow. It was rare he got to just sit - His stomach growled, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced at Mersault. The boy would be fine of course, but Dancer wanted to be there when he woke. It was about time they had a little heart to heart. Careful not to make any noise, he made his way from the room, the latch softly clicking behind him. The kitchens weren't far, the smell of rising bread filling the hallway for some distance. It was a matter of moments for Dancer to slip in and out, his prize a handful of goat jerky. He made his way back to the infirmary, about to lift the latch, when a runner clattered down the hallway, breaking the silence he had been enjoying so. Dancer glared at the man, and gave him a low growl, "This had better be important."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Less then fifteen minutes later, Dancer had his men on their feet, Jax in the yard, and several missives sent to all corners of the realm. The moon was bright, everything not lit by torchlight was made of hard edges, and every shadow black as pitch. At least he had slept in his travelling clothes. Anyte. "Jax! The fleetest shape you have." The "pony" looked at him, and blinked. Dancer yelled, startling the other men, and ponys, in the yard. "I do not care what that Akkan-cursed Judge has to say! Now, Jax!" By Akkan, if that infil has killed her...... The 'pony' bowed, and the air around him shimmered. A blink later, and a massive hellhound stood in the yard, its smashed, gargoyle-like face coming to above Dancer's shoulder. Claws like a grizzly bear dug into the dirt, and the monster's midnight coat rippled with muscle. Massive canines hung out of its mouth, sharp points dripping with drool. Its ears pointed straight up, and its deep purple eyes watched Dancer carefully. Dancer paid no heed to the beast, throwing the nearby tack on Jax's back and hastily buckling the various straps. He jumped into the saddle, tying off his pack to the horn, before looking out at his men. They were still in half dress, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Several were fumbling with buckles and saddles on the little ponys, slowly putting everything together. They wouldn't be able to keep up with Jax on those ponys anyway. Dancer growled, barking orders to them. "Catch up with me in the city, and Jormorosh help you if you tarry!" As Dancer violently pulled Jax around, his master-of-the-house ran from the building. "Duke, Sir!" Dancer glared, and roared at the man, all semblance of politeness gone. "WHAT!" The man stopped short, paling. "Baron Duke Sir, Mersault is awake. I just thought -" "Enough!" Dancer took a deep breath, trying his best to level his voice. "Clean him up, and send him with the men. I'll deal with him in Unger. Don't lose him, or I will personally see you placed in one of my sacrifice circles." With another violent yank, Jax bounded into the night, Dancer perched on his back. Anyte.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

That same night Jax and Dancer made it to the city. Jax's claws and thick muscles had proven more then a match for the mountainous terrain, and the early morning light was just beginning to lighten the sky as Jax bounded up to the city gates of Unger. They were closed, but a commanding roar from the Duke, and a low growl from the hellhound, and the guards' found themselves dropping the gate, half awake, and slightly more sober. None of the locals were in the streets at this early hour, while the city was locked down, and Jax raced unimpeded to the old palace Anyte called home. Palace gates opened for them, easier then the city. The Matrons had seen the Duke and his hound before, although none of them remembered Jax ever looking so ugly. The pair rode through the palace itself, passing the throne with its grisly trophy, a new dark stain decorating the seat, and Dancer only jumped off the hound at Anyte's bedroom door. Allova was there, and another woman he did not recognize, but a simple nod from a grim-faced Allova, and he was let in the door. No. The smell hit him first, the thick stench of iron. Of death. Anyte lay in her bed, pale, the only sign of life a slight gargle and movement of the thin sheet that covered her. Even her usually fiery hair seemed to have lost its shine, brushed out unnaturally around her head. Anyte. As if a puppet, Dancer walked to the bed, carefully reaching out for the sheet. As he pulled it back, he could feel the bile rising in his throat, and the tears pricking at his eyes. Thick bandages covered her chest, large spots of red showing exactly where the blood was leaking slowly to the surface. How many times had she been stabbed? No. No. No.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

He clenched his fists around the sheet, screwing his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears. Why? Why hadn't he been here? Why hadn't he gone for the infil's throat in Jed? Why hadn't the guards stopped this? Why? Why? Why? The word kept tumbling around in his head, as he stood above his dying love, tears streaming down his face. Anger rose inside of him, anger at the infil, the guards, and most of all, at himself. He'd had that infil, and he'd left it to the militia, instead of going after her himself. A coward, hiding in his fortress, too afraid to face the axe should he lose a one on one confrontation. This was his fault, and his fault alone. He opened his eyes, staring through the tears down at the blood soaked bandages. A ripping brought him down to his hands, still clenched around the sheet, fibers slowly separating from the pull between his white-knuckled fists. Slowly he released his hands, letting the sheet flutter to the floor. No. It would not end this way. <underline>She</underline> would not end this way. His eyes moved to her face, a lock of her red hair hanging low. Carefully, he brushed it aside, and leaned down to her ear. What once she told him, now he told her. "Anyte. You cannot die." He whispered into her ear, "Because I need you as much as you need me." He rose, new purpose coloring his words, "You will not die, not as long as I hold breath. In sickness, and in health, My Love." Outside the sickroom, Dancer barked orders, one after the other. "Move her, carefully, to the center of the throne room. I need a dozen slaves, extra torches, and some large buckets." His eyes flicked to Allova. "Do you remember, child?" The Matron nodded her head. She'd seen the last time the cultist needed for slaves. Dancer continued, "After everything is in place, I need total lock down of the palace. No one in or out, and a heavy guard around the throne room. Interruptions could be deadly for all involved." Whatever it takes.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Thalmarkin is an old realm, with a long history, and the blackened timbers in the old palace throne room showed every year that had passed. Several rulers over the years had had small changes made to the throne room, as well as several feasts, many nights of which lived on in the thick pillars, gouges and cuts darkening into a story as old as the realm itself over the years. The center of the room usually held heavy circular tables, and leather seats for all the Kin, scattered around an old stone plinth. To the left and right, large black granite columns covered in silver markings held the tall ceiling aloft. Beyond those, long tables were set out, a space for the common soldiers that had proved themselves in battle. Long windows let the early morning sunlight in, the city spread out below. The back of the room held the centerpiece of the space, however. Up a pair of steps, a massive white stone throne sat, usually covered with the hide of a ghost bear, the skull of the Daemon Lord Overlord mounted to its top. The horns of the skull had been torn off, and usually the skull was lit from below, billowing out flame from the horn holes, the eyes, and mouth. Behind the throne, a stained glass window depicted the shield of Thalmarkin, the mountains of Jed picturesque in the background. This morning, however, the skull was cold, and the throne sat empty, a long dark stain across the usually pristine stone. The center had been cleared, at the cultist's order. Anyte lay across the plinth, still just barely breathing, with fresh bandages white as snow. A dozen condemned criminals were gagged and chained between two of the pillars, quietly shuffling about every so often. Dancer stood shirtless, his mangled back on full display, at one of the long tables that had been pulled forward, covered in various supplies, buckets, torches, and bandages. His pack sat, discarded on a clear part of the table, contents spilling across the ancient wood. His whip, books, stained scarf, a pair of daggers, and a strange embellished golden cup all sat near the pack, as the cultist flicked through a worn tome, carefully making notes on a bit of parchment. Allova slipped through the heavy main doors of the room, her boots tapping across the worn stone floor. She didn't react to the lashing scars, she'd seen them before. "Do you need of anything, Lord Duke?" Dancer looked up from his scribbles, noting the matron's pinched and worried face. "No, Allova. You have done everything you can." Dancer reached down, pulling a small letter from under the tome. "Give this to Sol, when she gets here. She is to take my men, and hers, and keep the city protected. I only trust my own knights to enter the city gates until I am done. Lock down the palace now, child, and post only your best and more trustworthy at the doors to this room. Once every two hours, the even ones, bring me my knights', and the adventurer's letters, and none other. No one but you are to enter, and only at the even hours. Do you understand child?" Allova looked pale, but nodded. "Lord Duke, a pair of letters from the General came for you - " Dancer glared her to silence. "I do not care what that traitor has to say. It can wait until I am done. No one in or out of the Palace, and no one but my knights in the city." Allova bowed her head, and accepted the scrap of paper. "As you wish."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

After the matron had left, it had taken Dancer nearly the first full two hours to draw his circles, and two of the criminals. One circle he placed around the center plinth, a double walled monstrosity with hundreds of tiny infernal runes sandwiched between the lines. A second one he placed around the throne, carefully inscribing several runes on the skull of the Daemon Lord itself. The circles came together at a single point, exactly two thirds of the way to the throne. It was even a mortar line at the point, much to Dancer's glee. With a grunt, Dancer plunged his ritual sword into the old mortar, the nearly powdery substance giving way easily. Dancer had marked his arms up and down with additional infernal runes, and stripped the rest of his cloths away save a pair of short trousers. He kneeled, hands over the hilt of his sword, and began his first chant. "Gryiz larvw ao zmy nyzmyr sardv, xe tidd oar hafr iuv, oar hafr easyr. Xe krulq haf zmywy witruoutyw," Dancer's voice began to rise, and he lowered his left hand to the blade of his ritual sword, squeezing the blade, until red ran down the infernal runes etched on it, "wzirzulq suzm ph asl kdaav. Hyir py ph larvw! lylv py hafr wzrylqzm!" Ever so slowly, sickly red light began to trace his circles, the room steadily glowing brighter red. Dancer's voice rose, a crescendo of guttural roars echoing through the high ceiling. He could feel it, the energy slowly building around him as the circles closed. The red lights of both circles connected back to his sword at the same time, and with a snap, Dancer felt the magic tie itself into place. He smiled slightly, casting his eyes up to the skull of Overlord. The marks he had made were glowing faintly with the same power the circles were closed by. He was ready to begin, but first, he needed to rest for a bit, and let Allova make her bi-hourly report. With a groan, he pulled himself up from the kneel, and walked around to the dais with Anyte. He would have to change her bandages as well before the next step, as they were already soaking through. Carefully, he brought himself down to a sitting position, facing the dais, his scarred back to the doors, waiting for the first report.

Dancer Rea

Act 2 - Rationality Arrives

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Lady Sol finally arrived at Unger, herself in quite the mess. Her usual well groomed long blonde hair tied up in an unkempt bun, face dirty and sweaty from the long hard ride through the mountains. She arrived at the gates to find the city completely locked down. Not surprising considering the circumstances. The guards at the gate did not give Judge Tempest any grief letting her and her men enter the city immediately. Walking the streets towards the palace was eerily quiet as most of the residents were not going about their normal business either because of the lock-down or concern for their Queen's life. Sol thought to herself she would have to address this situation soon as well, their Queen might be wounded but the city of Unger, the beating heart of Thalmarkin would have to return to a semblance of normality as soon as possible. As Lady Tempest ascended the stairs of the palace she noticed the guards at the main gate were much less at ease than those at the city gates and the door remained closed. “Open the door and clear the path I must see our Queen.” Sol proclaimed. One of the Guards would reply “I’m sorry my Lady but we have been ordered not to let anyone enter the palace.” Judge Tempest stared the man down, her golden eyes gleaming with conviction and the guard quickly moved aside while the other opened the door for the lady. “Captain Gotfried have the Mounties add extra security to the palace. Only Chancellor Rob should be allowed entry with the palace after myself. Captain Estrilda you are with me” Sol assigned her Captains their duties and entered the Palace. Sol was not wandering around the palace long before a lady approached and spoke to the Lady Judge, “You are not supposed to be here.” “Nonsense, I must see my Queen and lend her my support. Who are you anyway?” inquired Lady Tempest. “Allova, a matron in service to our Queen, Anyte.” “Well Allova take me to where Duke Dancer and our Queen are NOW.” Allova squirmed for a moment then turned to face a nearby hallway and motioned for Sol to follow; before long they approached a locked and guarded door. “Judge Tempest I really think you should reconsider entering the throne room, it's not decent within right now.” Allova implored and the guards either side of the door crossed their halberds over each other. Judge Sol placed her hand firmly on the hilt of her sword before speaking “I will be entering one way or another.” Looking uneasy Captain Estrilda also gripped her own sword however she seemed uneasy and having doubts about fighting within the palace. Allova broke the tension first, “That won’t be necessary however your Captain absolutely must remain outside. I insist.” Sol released her still sheathed sword, “Captain Guard this door with these men as well. No one enters until I say so.” The door to the throne room would quickly be opened just a sliver and promptly shut just as fast once Lady Tempest entered the chamber. Standing for a moment in mortified silence Sol studied the room and what was taking place. She would not retain her composure for long before screaming at the shirtless man standing within the ritual circles placed among the room. “DANCER WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE GODS ARE YOU DOING!?” Dancer quickly looked towards the direction of the shriek before returning his own low growl, “Whatever you do, don’t break the circle, child.” “Well you better come to me right this instant then!” the still armour clad Judge barked back. The old cultist rose, stiffly. His back hadn’t been oiled in some time now, and was getting rather stiff. “Why are you in here?” he asked, tiredly. Growing impatient Sol tapped her foot as she snidely replied “Remove yourself from the ritual circle so I can show you why I am here.” "What do you need, Sol? I am busy.” He gestured around aimlessly, "If you haven't noticed." Sol returned to shouting at the shirtless stubborn soul, “I have noticed and that is why it’s imperative you come here immediately otherwise I'll be dragging my flaming sword across your precious circles!” Dancer ran his hand through his hair. The larger circle was a working circle, and while it didn’t have much power in it at the moment, he really didn’t want to find out the consequences of breaking such a large working in the wrong way. Anyte was still in the center, and she couldn’t take any more wounds right now. Carefully, he stepped through the circle, parting the magic like a curtain, before stopping in front of his knight. Should it come to it, he had a dagger tucked in his trousers. He crossed his arms, and waited. Sol still wearing her gauntlets doesn’t hesitate and proceeds to give the Duke a ferocious backhanded taste of blackened steel gauntlet across his face. “IS THIS WHAT YOU THINK OUR QUEEN WANTS! If you saved her this way her first act would be to murder you.” Anger exploded within Dancer. How dare she? Slowly, he took a deep breath through his nose, strangling the urge to respond with violence. She was young, and hotheaded, even if she pretended otherwise. He worked his jaw while she continued. Sol not even flinching over the fact Dancer might kill her at any moment continued, “No, clean this farce up immediately. Then have some servants gather some supplies. I need a black candle, and pale blue candle, a silver chalice and some violet burning essence. If we are going to save our Queen it will be on her terms. We will make a plea to the goddess’ of old, The Ice Queen and The Dark Mistress.” Lady Tempest studied the throne room glancing at the last thing she would need. Grand windows let the moonlight radiate within the imposing pillar filled room shining directly onto Queen Anyte’s almost lifeless body. “The only one who can save her now is the Dark Mistress, we must implore the goddess to grant our Queen a stay of death so that she can finish her work in the Dark Mistress’ name. Hurry now if we don’t act fast we will lose our Queen!”

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Rob Strome

Letters, letters blasted letters, of all the things to deal with in the midst of a Queen being stabbed, Rob matched his namesake well that day as he stormed up to the castle Unger's gates and commanded the guards to move with a very uncharactgeristic bark. His retinue of archers followed behind him timidly until he ordered them "take the walls and don't let one other soul in, NO ONE! Not any other person not a General Not a Marshal not a mouse not -a-FROG" He ranted, more then vexed by the last few days correspondence. "What do I do Hermann?" he questioned his captain who followed by the young man keeping stride the best he could. "You're a chancellor- a banker sir" "Aye a banker thats what I do- I bank I do numbers I sit on the council where I was elected to sit and do my job and anything outside of that what do I do!?!?" He was grilling innocent Hermann, who was beginning to squirm under these questions for fear of giving the wrong answer "You serve your queen...?" "EXACTLY, whether it is in the council or in private letters is no concern of that lout- As he said I do not meddle in his military affairs- if he becomes wounded now can I steer his army and now /diplomacy/ how I like just because I feel there is no one to argue with me?" he went off at another rant about how he can smell ambition from a league away and today he could smell it wafting all the way from Gemke. For all his blustering it was stopped short by two Tempest mans Halberds locking into a barrier from the throne room. "Move!" He commanded hotly. "The Judge has ordered no one enter the throne room." "Don't be an idiot tell her I am here, let me in now!" Rob demanded again The men seemed unaffected by the Chancellors ire, they were good at their jobs "She said not even Rob, Sir" Outside the throne room Rob and Hermann sat on the steps leaning back on their elbows casually while looking up at the old ceiling beams. Sol's orders didn't sting as much as any others; the guards noted that compared to his approach, he looked quite glad to wait on her command.

Rob Strome

Roleplay from Duncan Blackstone

Duncan scrambled to the gates of Unger, he shouted at the gate guards “It is Duncan, Master Rea summoned me.” The guards nodded and let him through, he breathlessly sprinted through the city til he reached the castle, “tell Master Rea I am here.” He ordered one of the matrons. Under most circumstances he would have been hit for such insolence but not this day.

Duncan Blackstone

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

When it rains, it pours. His own knight had walked in on the ritual. Kidnapping, as he had done to Mersault, would have been an option, but Sol was the Judge, and would certainly be noticed missing within a matter of hours. Not that he would win the fist fight - Sol was armed, amoured, and alert. He turned, and walked around the edge of his large circle, faded sickly red light lighting his way. The magic, and the light was low now, waiting for the next step in his ritual. What Anyte would want, hm? "Sol Tempest. I have let you speak, and now you will let me." He forced himself not to growl too darkly. After all, this was going to be touchy. "Firstly, you will not lay your hand on me like that again. It is below you. " His table of materials, and more importantly, his open pack were but a few dozen steps away. Anger licked around his breast, but he held his voice level. "Secondly, you should know that calling my work here a 'farce' is offensive, and blatantly ignorant. As I am sure you have guessed already, this," He waved his right arm to his circles, red light brightening his underarm, "Is part of my faith, and your demeaning comments do little but enrage me. The Truth is the only religion with any power on this island, the only one who's Gods have walked the land." He reached his pack, quickly nicking out a scroll, as well as his barbed whip. Extra care was put into keeping it coiled as he attached it to his belt, attempting not to spook Sol any farther. A stack of bandages fit comfortably under his arm, and he moved again, headed for the center of the room. "If you think some cattle's bedtime stories will save Anyte, I clearly have not taught you well enough as your Baron." A few more steps, and the magic parted for him again as he made his way to Anyte. Carefully, he set the scroll, and the bandages down, and began to re-dress her wounds. His rage was cooling, replaced with fear as he looked to her wounds. How she was still breathing was a mystery to him. However, he could not continue with Sol interrupting the ritual. It was complex, and the number of steps, and time to complete each step was massive. He had to convince Sol to let him continue without interruption. He could not shake the knowledge that Sol was right on one thing: Anyte would never forgive him, should he do this. But she would be alive. A thought came to him, a simple test. Perhaps Anyte would even forgive him as well. "However, you have one point, young one. Anyte does not like my faith, and actively condones it when ever we speak of it. So, I have a deal for you, Sol Tempest." The bandaging done, and with dirty bandages in hand, Dancer turned, and leveled his milky eyes to his knight, his Judge. "I will use this single scroll, and it will stabilize her for a little while. You may try your 'Ice Queen and Dark Mistress,' I will even provide a healing scroll for the ritual." They needed to heal her. Whatever it takes. "And when it fails, you will help me finish my work here, and we will heal Anyte together. Be warned, Sol, should you do anything that will harm Anyte, I will not hesitate to end you where you stand, the consequences be damned." Naturally, that was the time Allova choose to slip in the room. "Lord and Lady, there is a Chancellor Rob here, a Duncan, and a stack of letters for you, Duke Dancer."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

It only took a minute for Dancer to wipe the dry bloody runes off his arms, and with a quick glance to Anyte, Dancer waved Sol and Allova through the door first, following closely behind them. They made their way to the front of the palace, where Rob waited, sprawled on some steps. Within seconds he wished he'd put a shirt on, as the look on the Chancellor's face nearly made him roll his eyes. Children, all of them. It was like none of them had seen lashing scars before. He could nearly taste the coil of magic that heralded Duncan, and he didn't waste anytime with games of hide and seek. "Duncan. Come out boy. This is Chancellor Rob, and Judge Sol, so keep a civil tongue in your head."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Rob Storme

Lovesick Rob hardly saw Dancer at all on their approach, doing a double take at a few grotesque scars as he lifted himself off the steps to greet them both. Young though he was Rob was tall and green eyed like his sister, though unlike her he was fair and blonde, and far broader in stature. "Your grace" he said to Dancer, giving him the honorific that matched his rank; while still clearly bottling some intense reaction up as he realized they had emerged from that sealed room together with him barely dressed. His first reaction always was to spring to her aid yet; a quick look over Sol was enough to convince him that she had gone unmolested. The look of the haggard man beside her drove it home- it was not the look of a man who had just had a tryst with a Goddess at all. Having somewhat calmed himself he approached Sol for a more friendly greeting, Rob learned his lesson from their battle Gemke when it came to bear hugs he went this time for a less threatening, brief one armed embrace. "Sweet Sol, I'm happy to see you're alright-" he went on to address the two of them as he joined rank in waiting for who or whatever a Duncan was "I offer my service to you both, I want to help our Queen in any way possible."

Rob Storme

Roleplay from Duncan Blackstone

Duncan was bloodied, on his way to the palace he was jumped by a thug, and a fight had ensued, he won of course but surely he couldn’t approach nobility with gore staining him. Then he heard Dancers voice call him out, with a shaky breath he stepped out from behind the corner he was hiding. He swiftly walked over and bowed to the Judge and Chancellor, “Good day to you, noble judge and chancellor.” He then walked to before Dancer and knelt “Master Rea, I have done as you asked.” He bowed his head and softly mumbled “I am sorry I wasn’t there Sire, I should of been here to help sooner.”

Duncan Blackstone

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer did his best not to berate the young man. He was sure there was a good reason for the blood. Probably. After a deep sigh, Dancer growled. "I'm not going to ask about the blood, Duncan. As long as you have the Healing scrolls, it does not matter." Dancer held out his hand, waiting.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Duncan Blackstone

Duncan rifled around in his satchel, nearly nine scrolls were in there, he pulled out two and offered them to his master. ”Here you are my lord, I will also explain the blood, it isn’t mine, a street hug thought to rob me on way here, his mistake.”

Duncan Blackstone

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer held the scrolls like a he would a baby, with great care. These, one of these would save Anye. Save his love, his life. He allowed himself a moment of relief, before muttering more orders. "Duncan, I need you to do something important for me. I have an Accident scroll for Jheda Orobar, I need you to deliver it. Do not think this is only some errand. I want you to stay with Jheda, and I want you to help him find that whore that hurt Anyte. Stay with him until you find her, or I call you to return." A thought occurred to him. After all, if Sol's ritual didn't work, the more scrolls he had the better. "Oh, and Duncan? Did you ever pick up any of the other scrolls I sent you for? Before you go, I want any that you have. Anyte's life could depend on their power."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Duncan Blackstone

Duncan nodded “I will serve you well, that bastard will wish they were never f**king born, I will make their every waking moment hell for what they have done.” Duncan then rifled through the bag and listed his remaining scrolls “Six scrolls of summoning undead and monsters, one scroll of pain and suffering and the two healing ones I gave you now my lord.” Duncan bowed his head and offered the satchel.

Duncan Blackstone

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

"There is no need for such pleasantries, Duncan." Dancer carefully picked up the pack of scrolls in his other hand, glancing at Sol and Rob. "Go now, Jheda is in Wailing Wood. Give him this Accident, and the Pain and suffering. Help him catch that whore, and I will reward you well." Duncan rushed off, a slightly bloodied freeman disappearing in the sprawl of the city. Dancer turned to the young Councillors, arms full of scrolls. "I need to perform a single scroll, before you start your works, Sol Tempest. It is a scroll of Youth, simply an extra breath of life, if you will, so Anyte will make it though your attempts to save her. Wait here for me, and in the meantime get the chaff to find me some water buckets and some vinegar." Without waiting for an answer, Dancer stiffly marched back into the palace, scrolls in tow. His circle still hummed with power, and Anyte still breathed roughly in the center. He dumped the summon scrolls on the table, and carefully placed the healing scrolls to the side. With a slight groan, he walked to his prisoner line. Man, he was getting to old to haul around bodies anymore. Two hours later, Dancer emerged, the throne room cleaned of his works, the only sign of his workings Anyte breathing slightly easier, empty water buckets, and a tarp covering a lumpy mound in the corner. "Your turn, Sol. Show me the power of your gods."

Dancer Rea

Act 3 - Long Live the Queen

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

With Dancer retreating within the throne room once again to clean up his art, Sol takes a moment to address Challancor Rob. “I'm glad you made it in time Rob, it’s nice to see a pleasant face even if on you. I need your aid now. I have written a list of items I will need shortly to make a plea to the Old Gods to try and save our Queen” Lady Tempest takes Rob by that hand and places the list within. “Do not dally every moment is critical” Sol concludes. With Rob departing to fetch the necessary items Judge Tempest motions Captain Estrilda to her side, Whispering Sol gives her Captain new orders, “Estrilda, assemble the Tempest Wardens. But discreetly. Have them in position and prepared to arrest anyone on my command.” “My Lady, I don’t understand who would need arresting here.” Captain Estrila inquires. “Just do as I command Captain. Then continue to guard the door and await my command. No one but myself, Dancer, Rob or Allova are permitted to enter the throne room unless I say so.” Lady Tempest quietly affirms so none of the nearby guards can hear. Not a moment too soon as Dancer emerged from the throne room with a statement, "Your turn, Sol. Show me the power of your gods." “Not my gods Dancer, our Queen’s” Sol quipped back. Sol entered the throne room to see it returned to a state well enough to entertain again and much more befitting a Queen. Anyte still lay motionless on the stone pillar in the center of the room, her bandages freshly changed once again. Still waiting on Rob, Sol takes this moment to share some words in private with her Queen. Not knowing if Queen Anyte can even hear Lady Tempest leans in close to whisper in Anyte’s ear so only she could possibly hear, “Forgive me my Queen, you asked me before and I was not brave enough to answer you then and I might never have another chance so here it is. You asked what is my favored companion style. A dame, a lady, a queen. A woman who is fiercely intelligent and proud.” Judge Tempest stands up retrieving a letter for her pocket then continues to speak normally, “My Queen I have also received some letters of sympathy. I don’t know the full meaning of these words but they seemed significant so I shall read them for you. Obeah knows Her own even if they follow another path. And where one of Her daughters was failed before, She would welcome the sister of that daughter. Let Her end the breach, heal the old wound, and make right the old wrong. Rise, Daughter Anyte, and return to us where you can be welcomed as you should have been all those years ago.” Folding the letter and returning it to her pocket Sol looks towards the sky high window observing the moon. If her plea was to have any effect Sir Rob would need to quickly return with her supplies.

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Rob Storme

Rob had left with the list of elements needed to help the Queen and most of them seemed quite simple- a couple of candles, a chalice made of silver, very easy things to find in a castle however a violent burning essence...Hermann his captain was walking quickly at his side, silent but evidently looking to help, Rob showed him the list. Unfortunately, the other man gave him a sympathetic look when he reached the last item on the list. " You don't know what it is either?" Hermann shook his head "Shall we split up Chancellor?" A curt nod gave the other man the signal to go on his way, and Rob went to work searching the castle for the elements needed. It was Anyte's home afterall, her faith- whatever it was had to be here somewhere. The silver chalice was easy, the fourth room he tried had one sitting rather pretty on a table for the taking, with his he strode down seemingly endless halls, trying every door, snooping in every room. The candles popped up next, first blue- easy less easily black. All this time he had been looking he hadn't found one place of prayer in any room, not that he could recognize anyway. That was his best bet for finding a..."VIOLET...BURNING... Essence..." He said outloud, as if trying to summon it. A quiet giggle from a shadow down the corridor made him jump, and turn on his heel. It was a woman, young, with her hair hidden under the hood of a robe he didn't recognize. "Why are you looking for such a thing?" A small voice ask him. He stepped forward, and the figure stepped further away. Rob, knowing how intimidating a man his size could be stayed himself and spoke from the distance she felt safe "We- The council thinks we can save the Queen with it." The robed girl was silent for a long moment, and entered the light for the short moment it took her to cross the corridor and continued down out of Rob's line of sight, saying nothing. "It's alright if you've not got one" he urged, rushing forward to catch her- "If you even know-"Around the same corner Hermann looked surprised to see the younger man rushing toward him- each of them holding a silver chalice, and two candles but without any girl in sight. It was difficult not to laugh, but really it wasn't funny. "Where did that girl run to?" "Girl Sir?" Hermann asked as he took the items in hand. "N-Nothing. Nothing." Rob sighed, moving past his captain to continue looking. "I'm sorry Goddess" Rob looked truly sorrowful, returning empty handed. Hermann had already handed off the two chalice' and four candles but also had no luck. In a gesture of deep regret he put his hand to his chest, as he always did before letting loose some heartfelt words but he stopped short. His eyes darted from Sol to his chest pocket, and he patted it briefly before retrieving what appeared to be a ring box. "I'm sorry that- I took so long" Rob bluffed, groping the box in his own disbelief as when he opened it there was something quite violet and shimmering not unlike a flame nestled on a pillow stitched from something metallic. "Is this- what you need?" He asked sounding very unsure.

Rob Storme

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Sol studied the items retrieved by Rob, the violet gemstone was particularly beautiful, enough to please a specific Goddess. However, feeling the stone in her hard it felt quite brittle and Lady Tempest understood how she would use the stone for her plea. This whole ritual was very much a mystery to Lady Sol, she had only ever read a few things about the Old Gods and heard a few things of the Dark Mistress from Queen Anyte before. As Sol had spent most of her life fighting she knew very little of religious arts but she felt that a plea to the Dark Mistress was the only to save the Queen of Thalmarkin. Lady Tempest knelt before the pillar that Anyte was resting on and placed the candles beside her with the silver chalice placed between the candles. Sol would first light the pale blue candle which provided the faintest extra light in the moonlit throne room. Sol then lit the black candle which to her surprise gave off a pale white smoke but practically no light whatsoever. “Ice Queen, your Frozen Majesty master of the winter, one of your children of the north needs you now more than ever. Hear my request I beg you. I need your guidance to connect with the Dark Mistress so I can plead for my Queen’s soul.” Clasping and cupping her hands around the open flame from the pale blue candle Sol suffocates the fire dousing it as a sign of respect for the Old Goddess of Ice. She watches as the last of the smoke from the candle rises towards the vaulted ceiling and escapes on a cool northern breeze. Studying the brilliant fragile violet gemstone for the last time Lady Tempest grinds it to powder between her gauntlets and lets the dust fall into the silver chalice. Turning her gaze to the rising pale white smoke Sol begins to speak, “Dark Mistress hear my plea. Your devotee lies before me waiting for your embrace and release from all the suffering that life holds but she cannot leave us now for she works diligently to redeem your name. There are those on Belutaterra who slander the Dark Mistress and Queen Anyte stands adamant to affirm your divinity for all to know true. The Old Gods were here long before men and by their grace we still remain.” Lady Tempest gently picks up the black candle and uses it to light the glimmering purple powder within the silver chalice. With a brilliant flash of violet flame a torrent of white smoke rises and becomes one with the moonlight covering the throne room in a thin pale fog. “Dark Mistress only you can adjourn the release of life. Please grant us this favor so our Queen can finish her work in your name.” A quick gust of air clears the room of all its smoke and in an instant Anyte seems to take a deep breath. Sol quickly stands to see if her plea was heard only to find her Queen still lying wounded and unconscious on the pillar. However in the silence of the throne room Lady Tempest can hear Queen Anyte’s breath and heartbeat returning to a more relaxed rhythm. Sol turns to the others in the throne room, “I believe the Dark Mistress has heard my plea, but her mercy will only stave off death, she will not heal these wounds for us.”

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

(1/3)While Sol had been mumbling and gesturing, Dancer had stood, stone faced and arms crossed against a pillar several feet away. This was a waste of time. Ice Queen and Dark Mistresses, bah. He'd bought Anyte more time with the lives of the prisoners, and his fountain of youth scroll, but it wasn't much. Rob had taken far too long looking for all the bits and bobs of junk scattered across the center of the room, and Dancer was getting antsy. Just as he was about to step forward and order Sol to cease, he felt cold ripple across his arms. For many years now Dancer had been half blind, but what he had lost in sight, he had gained in his sense of magic. Not the practice of, he was still quite green at casting compared to the Truth Seekers of old, but his sense of the stuff had been heightened several fold. His senses perked up as the cold flowed in the room, from everywhere, but with no discernible direction. Dancer backed farther away from the center of the room as Sol burnt some powder, and a thin fog overtook the room. It coiled around the cultist, never touching him but by a hairs breath. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. So far, he had been careful not to reach out, fearing the truth of how far gone his love may be, but he needed to See what Sol had done. A deep exhale, and he threw his sense out, feeling the lively souls oozing from the two young nobles, and the weak flutterings of Anyte's. She was holding on at least. There wasn't anything - Suddenly, a heavy magical presence snapped into existence, several feet above Anyte and Sol. It felt cold, colder then even the mountain peaks on midwinter's night. None of the other life forces in the room moved an inch as the massive cloud slowly draped itself over Anyte and Sol. A quiet hiss of metal accompanied Dancer pulling his ritual sword from its scabbard. Nothing would hurt Anyte, he would see to that. Before he could even speak, or take a step, the mass swirled and more chill wind passed through the room. Ice formed down Dancer's sword, fogging out the runes etched into it. Then, his love took a deep breath, and the magical entity dispersed. The point of the sword clinked on the stone floor as he tried not to drop it from his stiff fingers. So then, not a bedtime story, at the least. Dancer opened his eyes, and looked hopefully at Sol, who rose, and turned. “I believe the Dark Mistress has heard my plea, but her mercy will only stave off death, she will not heal these wounds for us.” Dancer sighed. "Well Sol, while your plea was certainly heard by.....something, Anyte can not lay as if dead. Clear your materials, so that I may place mine."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

(2/3)Again he drew his circles, his ink the guards from the night Anyte was stabbed. Two more disgraced guards stood chained and gagged between the pillars; for this ritual, he wouldn't need many bodily sacrifices.....the stack of scrolls would suffice after he got the magic going. Once again he marked Overlord's skull, and once again he jammed his ritual sword in the mortar between the stones, and once again closed his circles with offered blood. The sickly red light seemed quicker this time, hungerly licking around his markings. His wolfish smile stretched across his face - this was real magic, with real Gods. The larger of the circles was his working circle, with its dual wall and layers of runes ready for each scroll he would use. The second, smaller circle was a vessel, the skull of Overlord acting as a battery of sorts, where he could store power between spells. His sword was the final piece, acting as a bridge between the circles, and a shield should one or the other become unstable. First, he used a summon Undead scroll. One of the ones he was most comfortable with, it went off easily, and the magic bounced around the inside of his circle for a moment before he was able to channel it into his sword, the magic licking around the steel, before shooting upwards to the skull, motes of light entering its nostrils as if it was breathing in. The first prisoner lay dead, skin flayed off her back scattered in little chunks around the circle, throat cut. He didn’t bother cleaning up, instead repeating the process with the second prisoner. Over and over again, his barbed whip cracked through the air, muffled gargles coming from the unfortunate prisoner, as he read from another Summon Undead scroll. Rob takes a brave step in front of Sol resolving to shield her from any wayward magic. When the sacrifice begins to let muffled cries out he cringes and looks away. Sol can see the pity on his face and pulls him near, shielding his face and eyes kindly as he wraps both arms around her, now refusing to watch. The second scroll activated, and power flowed into the skull through his sword. He turned, and looked to the other nobles. “How much are you willing to give, to sacrifice, for her?” The cultist waved at the two corpses, “An unwilling sacrifice only gives so much power. A willing sacrifice can provide ten fold, with a fraction of the cost. How far are you both willing to go?” Sol watches as Dancer begins his ritual in earnest once again holding her tongue until she is asked how far the lady was willing to go, “Not like this Dancer, I cannot partake in what you are doing here. I don’t think I can forgive your actions and I suspect our Queen will not as well, but I also cannot stop you now.” Dancer nodded to his young knight. “So be it. Know that I do not expect forgiveness, from either you nor the Queen. I only do what must be done. Stand back Sol.” The flying blood had marred the runes he’d placed on his arms and chest, and he took a short break to clean the gore from the circle, and himself. Power hung in the air around the skull, like a thick blanket, as the cultist cleaned up. Sulfur stench hung in the air, and the temperature had risen several degrees. The circles and the cultist were cleaned up quickly, infernal runes reapplied with fresh blood from the corpses, now discarded in the corner. Carefully, Dancer placed several more scrolls in a circle around Anyte. One by one, he called their power, passing each one back to the skull. By the time he was done, the skull glowed with sickly red light, and a low hum permeated the room. It was time for the healing scroll. Lady Tempest continues to watch in mortified silence over Dancer’s ritual. She did not want to watch but she found herself unable to look away. Was Dancers magic truly going to accomplish anything? The only way to see if his words did indeed hold any power was to witness this herself. Sol ensured Rob’s face remained tightly buried within her embrace as his young innocent eyes did not need to see what would happen next.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

(3/3) Dancer stood, in his full glory as Cultist of Truth, above the only person to ever truly love him, and began the chant from the Healing scroll. “Larv Akkan, Xe iwc oar hafr qryiz vorv zyrrukdy easyr, ul ygtmilqy oar zmywy witruoutyw, za myid zmuw kavh kyoary py!” Power began to exit the skull, small motes of light dropping from its mouth, swirling through the sword, and into his larger, dual lined circle. Emotion filled the cultist’s voice, a guttural roar as the magic swirled around the circle. “Larv Akkan, hyid zmuw sapil suzm hafr wzrylqzm!” The motes flew around, red light flickering. Dancer could feel it, the massive amount of power coursing through his circles, around and around, hungry to be released. Grinning, he chanted quickly as the power finished leaving the skull, the power of each sacrifice, scrolls and lives, swirling around his head. Slowly, the motes began to fall, each one meeting the Healing Scroll before disappearing. He’d done it, there was no way this could fail, his love would heal, and they would be toget- The scroll turned to ash, before his eyes. Only a quarter of the magic had fallen, and the rest of the motes of magic began to thrum, nowhere to go. Horror fell into his stomach like a rock, as he stood there, surrounded by unchecked power. In vain, he tried to channel the power back into the skull, anything to bring the vortex to heel….. Then another came, a different voice. Dancer could feel someone else reaching out, asking for control of his circles, of the power within. “Gujy uz za py.” Dancer could feel it, like a pressure on the back of his skull. Unchecked power continued to swirl, and the circle was even hotter, the stones between his inner and outer layers of circle starting to turn a deep red. He had no choice, growling back at the presence. “Xe qujy.” The presence filled him, and like a puppet, he moved as it did within him, raising Dancer’s arms high. “Hyid!” The single word ripped from Dancer’s throat, and before him, the outline of a healing scroll formed. The power swirling about wasted no time, crashing down into the vision, knocking Dancer on his back with the sheer force. His head cracked on the stone, and everything went dark for a moment. He blinked, little dots sliding across his vision. What was that? He blinked again. Anyte. With little regard to his pounding head, Dancer scrambled up, clawing over to the stone pillar. Anyte was breathing, lightly now. He carefully pulled back the bandages, marveling at the fresh pink skin where once had been horrible gouges. “Anyte.” He breathed. Her eyes opened, and after a moment of confusion, she smiled at him. That was all he needed, carefully wrapping her in a gentle hug, tears flowing freely down his face. She was saved, no matter how it happened, she was here, and she was safe. Quietly, so the others couldn't hear, he whispered to her. "Anyte, I nearly lost you. In doing so, I have realized that I love you, with all of my heart, and all of my soul. I would give anything to protect you, to love you." He drew even closer to her, sharing the words he had struggled to ask for some time. "Queen Anyte of House Luitolf, will you marry me?" She moved, perhaps to speak, but Dancer placed a single finger over her lips. "My Love, I ask you this between us, for I do not want you pressured into a choice. I know you have political enemies, both in and out of the realm." He kissed her then, gently, just below the ear. Her skin was wet from his tears. "Think on it, My Love. It is only between us, and I will never stop loving you, no matter what you choose." Across the city, a lone man in an attic stretched in a sitting position, blood dripping from his hand. A circle of chalk surrounded him, short stubby white candles burning low around the room. Dust sat in front of him, the remains of a healing scroll sticking to a smaller, darker circle, carefully drawn from the man’s own blood. The Queen was saved: his work was done, for now.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Clearly Dancer was not as skilled with his magic as he thought for the scrolls he hoped would save Anyte turned to ash before his eyes. Fortunately it seemed he had a guardian angel or perhaps a deal with a devil as another scroll appeared and someone finished the work he started. Sol pondered what she had witnessed while Dancer shared an intimate moment with their Queen. She could at least allow the Duke that before blind siding him in the next moment. Regardless Dancer loved Anyte that was clear and it was only right to give him a moment to see his saved love. As Dancer gave Queen Anyte a gentle kiss Sol had seen enough, “ESTRILDA!” the lady Judge shouted and not a moment after there was a loud whistle from outside the throne room door. In short order Estrilda and a dozen of the Tempest Wardens barged into the room. Judge Tempest proclaims “Duke Dancer by my authority as Judge of Thalmarkin I am hereby taking you into captivity. Our Queen will decide your fate once she hears about what you have done. Do not fight this or it will only end poorly for you.” Dancer rose, glaring at his knight. His proper sword was still embedded in the stone, some feet away, and around the stone plinth. He glanced at Anyte, still laying prone. First things first, he had to get away from her. An errant sword swing would undo everything they had done. “You plan to arrest me, Judge? Do you really think that is what needs to be done? I thought I taught you better.” He moved then, as quick as an old, exhausted man could move, trying to get around the plinth, going for his ritual sword. It didn’t matter much, as the young and spry wardens were much, much faster. Captain Estrilda and her wardens quickly approached Dancer to restrain him with shackles but the Duke refused to be bound without a fight. Swinging wildly his punches that connected were for naught as the unarmed Duke was surrounded in short order, brought under control and restrained. “Dancer, the reason I am arresting you is because you taught me better, perhaps it is time for the mentor to adhere to his own preaching. Captain Estrilda, take this man to the Queen’s own dungeons. We will deal with him later.” Sol orders her Captain where to bring the Duke. Flanked by burly men, Dancer was shackled and escorted from the throne room. Should he get any smart ideas en-route, he would be brought under control quickly. With Dancer gone Sol takes a moment to address Queen Anyte who to Lady Tempest’s surprise was not very bewildered by the recent spectacle. “My Queen, it fills my heart with joy to see you flourishing again. By the mercy of the Dark Mistress we had the time to heal your wounds.” Apprehension starts to overtake Lady Tempest as she attempts to continue. She didn’t know if telling Anyte the truth was the best course of action but Sol could not lie to her Queen, “The Duke… Dancer healed your wounds. I… I don’t wish to describe what happened here right now. I’ll admit I don’t fully understand what I saw but I know it wasn’t right.” Sol looks around the room, still in a state from the ritual before, “I’ll have someone clean the throne room immediately my Queen. You should retire to your chambers for now. I’ll describe what I saw once you have a proper rest.” Lady Tempest bows before Anyte then turns to start barking orders at men and servants to clean the throne room up.

Sol Tempest

Act 4 - The Aftermath

Act 4.1 - The Queen and the Judge

Roleplay from Anyte Luitolf

A while had passed during Anyte's recovery period, and she wasn't done with it completely yet. She still had very pale skin, heavy bags under her eyes, and could not move about on her own for too long without feeling nauseous, but she felt well enough to at least start to go over her daily letters without Allova or Hailwica reading them to her. Digging through the letters, she was not surprised at what she saw. The Kin were arguing, and rulers were unknowingly congratulating a cannibal taking over Vordual Sanguinis. The King of Irondale making the same demands in a nicer way, and they all kept coming. Anyte could feel her head start to throb and spin with it all coming in at once. The events of the kingdom did not stop for a dying woman, this was something she could tell anyone for a fact. Anyte was starting to get visibly irritated as Hailwica entered her bed chambers carrying a tray of food and a glass of ichor brandy. The teenage girl walked over to the desk and placed the platter before Anyte. "I am not that hungry right now, Hailwica." Anyte spoke while gesturing to leave the tray. "Mistress, you must eat to bring your strength back up. You nearly died, and while the magic may have mended your wounds, your body still needs to recover from the bout." Anyte pushed the letters to the side and looked over the room seeing the walls lined with ancient tomes, scrolls poking out of a chest nearby, before having her gaze rest upon the teenage girl, staring at her as if she could bore into her very soul. "Mistress, if you will not ear, perhaps we should talk about what happened while you lay in the throne room?" Hailwica said after a few moments, quite used to the woman glare having been mostly raised by her. Breaking her gaze immediately, Anyte looked away, not really sure what to say. She only remembered glimpses of the aftermath, and what she did she could hardly believe was little more than a sick delusion. Blood, it seemed to be everywhere, and a crowd around where she laid. She vaguely remembered Sol saying something about a prayer from Obeah sent from Obia, and several rituals preformed, some darker than others. In one moment of lucidity, she thought she had heard Dancer propose, but surely that was imagined. Her head began to pulse even harder than before, banging so hard it was as if someone beat the drums of war within her very brain itself, and she was starting to get tunnel vision just trying to remember it all. It was proving to be a fruitless endeavor, and soon she pushed it from her mind. "Hailwica, I would rather not think about those times. It hurts my head to do so. Perhaps, if you insist, you should tell me what exactly it is you wish to speak about. I was dying, bleeding out on the floor, while everything was happening." Hailwica looked over her Queen with her dark eyes, and stood there, silent for a few moments soaking in what was being said. "Mistress, I was not in the room at the time, forbid by Duke Dancer from being present. However, there is one that has said she wished to talk with on you the matter. I will see if she has arrived yet." She then turned, and walked out of the room, leaving the Queen of Thalmarkin with her meal, and to contemplate more of what happened that night. Anyte sat there, angrier than when Hailwica has entered. How dare Dancer forbid the young woman she herself was grooming to true nobility. If anything, that was the one person that needed to see what had happened.

Anyte Luitolf

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Judge Sol was within the library recording the results of her plea to the Dark Mistress. Normally Lady Tempest was not a priestly woman but she felt something divine when she called out to the Old Goddess'. For the first time in her life Sol saw a glimpse of power from the Godly realm and it was something she could not ignore. While buried in her journal a hand maiden approached Lady Tempest, "Judge Sol, I am Hailwica a hand maiden to Queen Anyte. Please come with me our Queen she wishes to understand what transpired within the Throne Room." Without hesitation Sol pocketed her journal and jumped up from the desk, "Then lead on Lady Hailwica." Queen Anyte looked worse for wear when Lady Tempest entered her chambers. It was evident that her recovery would still need more time. Sol spoke first, "My Queen you need not burden yourself. Let me speak and explain and i'll answer any questions you have." Lady Tempest saw a chair within the chambers and motioned towards the seat "May I?" she asks than takes a seat. "My Queen, I not sure you are aware of how dire your situation was. You were very well laying on your death bed when I arrived however that was not the most shocking of sights. Dancer was doing something in an attempt to save you. I cannot say what it was doing for sure but I could tell it was quite unsavory. I suspect it might have been some type of blood magic." Reaching for her journal Sol continues ,"I forced him to stop his madness. I feared that if he saved you by such means you would not have truly been yourself. So I made a plea to the Dark Mistress on your behalf. Actually I have wrote down what I saw in the throne room if full detail in this very journal. I wish to leave it with you." Sol studies the room for an appropriate location to leave the journal for Queen Anyte to study when she regained the energy while continuing, "I am not a godly woman my Queen but I know my plea was heard, and the Dark Mistress saved your soul for us so that you can finish redeeming her name. However her mercy was limited, while the Dark Mistress saved your soul she would not heal your wounds. Dancer completed that task in front of my own eyes with that magic of his and use of magic scrolls. It seemed all for naught though as his efforts failed only for the ritual to be saved by someone or something else." Laying the journal on a nearby bookshelf Sol turns to face Anyte, "I have since taken Duke Dancer into my custody and he is within a cell in your dungeons. I don't know what I am to do with him. I need your guidance. On one hand he was sincerely trying to save your life just as I was but with his unsavory magic who is to say if it would have worked. Dancer might have very well killed you by mistake. No I feel its only by the grace of the Old Gods you were saved." "However my Queen you must rest. Don't let me consume your time needlessly. If you have any questions for me I am happy to oblige however if you have none I will retire and let you rest." Sol bows upon conclusion.

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Anyte Luitolf

Hailwica was gone for only a short time before she arrived with Judge Sol, and stayed to listen to the exchange between the Queen and Judge on Anyte's orders. Anyte could feel her health was still on the worse side of things and had decided that it might be time to show Hailwica more of the social intricacies and customs that were involved of the higher nobility, rather than the service required of lesser nobility, or the obedience required of the peasantry. Before Anyte could speak, the judge had already started. It seemed that she had either assumed what this was about, or Hailwica had explained it, either way, the efficiency was appreciated, so she sat there and listened waiting for Sol to confirm that the few glimpses she had of the few weeks she spent nearly dying were nothing more than fevered hallucinations. Unfortunately, the things that Sol had to say were even more concerning than what was within Anyte's tortured mind. "My Queen, I not sure you are aware of how dire your situation was. You were very well laying on your death bed when I arrived however that was not the most shocking of sights. Dancer was doing something in an attempt to save you. I cannot say what it was doing for sure but I could tell it was quite unsavory. I suspect it might have been some type of blood magic." These were the words spoken before the judge slid a journal over to her Queen. Ignoring the journal for a moment for it could be looked through when Sol left, and Anyte really was not in the mood for more reading, she decided to play on Sol's other words. Those about the Dark Mistress. A smirk spread across her face, and Anyte chuckled a little as she turned her head to look at Hailwica. "Look, dear one, the Judge knows nothing of the old gods, least of which The dark mistress." She then turned her attention back to the judge, her heavily bagged eyes gazing at her intently, "Sol, you say the Dark Mistress saved me from death but refused to heal my wounds." she started but then stopped for a few moments to find the right words, her pain riddled brain struggling to keep up. "Sol, there is a reason your rituals did not work. The Old Gods, they value strength. You see, the Dark Mistress, she is also known as The Pale Wanderer or the Taker of Life. She is the Goddess of Death itself, so it is not shocking to me that she would not heal my wounds. However, it is interesting that she would reject my soul from her bosom so readily. I believe she has plans or me still on this mortal plane, and I think I might know what that might be, but discussing this is not why you came is it?" She asked while gesturing toward the journal. Her breath became more labored as she continued to look at Sol, already assuming what lay within the book that lay upon her desk. "Sol, we have a lot of work to do. Dancer must be dealt with, but there is so much more. We have enemies in every direction. Daishi warriors and Obian Inquisitors howl for our death because of mordok. The fools from Vordul spread false lies against my mistress, but one thing at a time. Tell me, what do you think we should do about Dancer?" While they were talking, that foolish thing that was Dancer's little pet had crept through her window. Such a nasty little shapeshifting thing, it sensed that Anyte did not care for it. Hiding beneath blankets, it took one more form before reappearing. That of a Seemalach fox, one that looked awfully like Ritnaz, the pet fox of Anyte's Dancer had lost. She looked over at the fool of a creature for only a moment, as it rolled around on the floor her expression lightening for a moment, before she turned and waited for Sol's answer.

Anyte Luitolf

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Lady Tempest listened intently as her Queen spoke only to be interrupted as some creature entered the chamber went under the blankets in one form and then emerged as another. "What the hell is that?!" Sol exclaimed but noticed Anyte was not worried in the slightest. "I'm sorry my Queen you asked me a question I was just startled by that... thing. What do to with Duke Dancer? Well he is obviously still loyal to both you and the realm but that doesn't give him the right or authority to do whatever the hell he wants when he wants." Judge Sol continued as she watched the now fox like creature playing on the floor. "I have some thoughts for punishing Dancer regardless the fact he is a Duke. His authority is not absolute, not in regard to myself and especially not in regard to you my Queen. If he wishes to act as a savage perhaps we should punish him as a savage." Looking around the room Sol spots a map hung on the wall. She removes the map and brings it to Anyte's bedside. Sol points to some woods on the map before continuing, "I'v heard there is a small island within a lake hidden in the Wailing Woods that harbors all manor of savage creatures. Bears, Wolves you name it. I propose we banish Dancer to this island with nothing more than a small knife. Send him stark naked without even the clothes on his back." Lady Tempest glances to Queen Anyte to read her expression but sees she is quite stoic despite the proposal so far, "We banish Dancer until he can can return with the pelts of both a bear and a wolf. If he wishes to act a savage then he should prove himself worthy to act such a way by besting the most ferocious beasts the north has to offer with nothing but his wit and sheer will. If he can do this without dying I will relent and see him freed." With the Queen knowing Sol's thoughts on how to handle Duke Dancer she returned the map to the wall. "Oh and as for the other complications I am afraid I have little advice to offer. From what I have heard it seems our enemies are not sincere with their offers and are just looking to stall. I fear we can only end this war through force and not diplomacy. Not for a lack of trying my Queen as you are more reasonable than most rulers of Beluaterra its just that diplomacy is the act of comprise. Therefore negotiating with those who compromise as much as boulder is next to impossible. I have total faith in my Queen, but I have no faith in the rulers of Irondale and Nothoi to act even in their own interests." Returning to the Queen Anyte's bedside again, "So my Queen, what do you think. Would my punishment of Dancer be to harsh?"

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Anyte Luitolf

Anyte started to feel a little light-headed, and so rose to slowly make her way over to her bed, leaning heavily upon Hailwica long the way. It had been a few weeks since the assassination attempt, and Anyte's outward injuries had healed quite well, but inward things were still taking their toll and that was clear. Sol was still there and continued talking as Hailwica helped her mistress walk across the room, and Anyte listened intently to the Judge's words, though right, as they arrived, Sol noticed the creature and was startled. "Sol, that is Jax. I don't know why the thing is here but he is some sort of, well I don't know what it is, but it's something of Dancer's. Pay no attention to it, though it here does tell me that Dancer is still around." Anyte stated dismissively, gesturing toward it, while Sol continued talking. Soon, the Judge had retrieved a map from the wall and started pointing our her plan. Though the queen's eyes were growing heavy with fatigue, she still paid attention to the judge as she pointed our her plan on the map. She wanted to send him into the Wailing Woods, naked and armed with nothing more than a knife, forbidding him to return until he retrieved the pelts of both a bear and wolf. Even though the weariness was taking her, Anyte still had a clear enough mind to think it through, albeit maybe not as logically as some, but Sol's main complaint didn't really hold water. She had hoped that the journal had held more information, but Anyte was not ready to read it just yet, and so she only had what she had been told and the quick glances over the first few pages to go on. "Judge Sol, your main complaint of Dancer seems to be human sacrifice, which is not actually illegal in Thalmarkin. If it was, Mordok would have never been allowed in, much less still be around. Their entire religion thrives on the killing of criminals for their 'god'. Let us not forget, Duke Dancer is an elder in the Mordok faith.I won't interfere with your judgments, as you clearly know more than me, but be careful punishing a man for practicing his faith." Anyte laid there for a few seconds, but still continued before Sol could answer. "I do trust your judgments, and the warnings are not meant to deter you. I am sure there is crucial information in the journal you provided for me to look at that could explain more. I will also soon have Dancer appear before me to explain his side of the events.The man should not be hard to find. Surely that thing," Anyte said gesturing once again to the creature, "should be able to find him well enough."

Anyte Luitolf

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Sol listened to Queen Anyte's words keenly, was she right in that Duke Dancer really did no wrong? The ramifications of the Duke's actions had been minor but Lady Tempest still did not fully understand what even took place and it seems Queen Anyte knew more then she was letting on. "My Queen, its not the human sacrifice I took exception too as I'm well aware such an act isn't even that uncommon on Beluaterra. No its the magic's those sacrifices were used for. However unless you can shed more light upon this for me I must relent for I don't wish to render an improper judgement for things I simply do not understand" Lady Tempest spoke while studying the creature so called Jax. A most peculiar animal. Was it even an animal? Focusing again on Anyte Judge Sol continues, "If this was all I had on Dancer perhaps my suggestion would be to harsh but there is something I have not forgotten even if it seems Dancer has. I have not yet been made aware of Duke Dancer abiding his last judgement, did you ever receive your promised portrait? I hope you don't think its petty of me to bring up such a thing now of all times but if there is anything I will punish with harsh and severe impunity its contempt towards my judgments. As I showed with Count Carson changes in circumstances do not let the judged excuse themselves from their punishment." The Judge of Thalmarkin pondered a moment over what she would say next, perhaps it was time the Queen received Dancers perspective, "My Queen if you wish it I will have Duke Dancer brought at once." Judge Tempest would bow and exit the room to talk with Captain Estrilda just outside, "Captain go fetch Duke Dancer from the dungeon and bring him here at once." Estrilda replied with a quick "Yes my Lady," and set off down the hallway flanked by two Tempest Wardens as always. --- The Captain of the Tempest Wardens would find out that Dancer was no longer in his cell and the new Margrave of Unger had brought him to new quarters. Estrilda quickly set off to where the Duke had been taken and did not hesitate banging on the door while yelling,"Lord Jheda, open up at once I know you have the Duke in there. Judge Sol demands the presence of Duke Dancer at once in the Queen's Chambers"

Sol Tempest

Act 4.2 - A Duke's Cell

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Shortly after the announcement, a large black great dane with curiously pointed ears made its way to Anyte, her personal guard letting it by. They knew what it was, they'd seen it often enough before. Anyte had been sitting in her office, two weeks of paperwork to sort through, when Jax nosed his way in, and laid down by the fire, eyes watching the door. Dancer's orders were the only thing on the hellhound's mind. "Don't leave her alone, Jax, not even for a moment. I will be safe enough here. Stay with her until I can come to you."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

The Unger Dungoens, Present Day "Hands on the back wall, where I can see ya." Dancer made a face, but complied with the voice, slightly muffled by the heavy oak door. They'd stuck him in a small cell, not much more then a heavy bench, used as a table, and a board hanging horizontally with a bucket under it that served as a rather hard bed. There was a small barred window near the ceiling that Jax had nosed by the previous night, before Dan had sent him to guard Anyte. The guard fiddled with her keys, and a few moments later, two guards entered the cell. The first came up behind Dancer, shackling his hands behind his back as the other begin the daily clean up of the cell. A new bundle of letters was tossed on the bench, the ink bottle swapped out, and his stack of return letters taken for delivery. A clean set of clothes, and a fresh woolen blanket were placed on the "bed", and the bucket replaced. A warm, but meager bowl of porridge was added to the bench as well. Five minutes later he was alone again, shoulders hurting from the rough treatment. Not that he blamed the guards, of course. The first time they had tried to enter his cell, he'd been waiting, and tried to jump them. One guard was still walking around with a bandage around his nose. He fell on the porridge, eating spoonful after spoonful with hardly a breath in between. By the Lords he was hungry. As the bowl emptied, he slowed, and began to rifle through the new stack of letters. He stopped on a longer one, tracing the signature with his thumb. Anyte didn't write her copies herself, being the Queen and all, but she signed them before they left for all corners of the realm. She'd touched this paper, within the last day. Emotion welled up in him. What had he been thinking? He'd preformed daemonic rituals in her throne room, and then asked her to marry him. Foolish, foolish, fool. She'd been very clear about her feelings on his faith, many times over the years. He would be lucky if she didn't have him cast from the realm. The universally hated Deamon Worshipper, asking for the Queen of the largest and most prosperous realm's hand in marriage. Ha. Carefully, he tore at the letter, pulling her signature off in a square of paper. Leaving the rest of the letters in a disorganized pile, he knocked the clothes and blanket off of the 'bed' and laid on it, just staring the paper, dreaming of what he could never have.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

By the Lords, his hand hurt. Writing copies of a single letter had taken him most of the morning. He would have to be more succinct if he wanted to write the entire realm.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Later in the day, Dancer spent a little time exercising, giving him something to do in the endless hours. He was happy he had never been maimed any more then his back, as some things such as push ups and pull ups would be rather hard if he was missing a limb.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Danver sighed, watching a one legged mouse stumble around his cell. With a quick stomp, he put it out of its misery. Weakness would not get it far in this world.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer watched a bloodied drunk man being led down the hall outside his cell, and smiled slightly, thinking of Skalros. He wondered how that arrogant fool was getting on.

Dancer Rea

Orders from Dancer Rea

(Personal message to Sol Tempest) If you insist on leaving me in a small room for saving Anyte's life, then at least have the courtesy of passing your farce of a judgement so I know what law you believe I have broken. I have work to do, and being stuck in a cage is making said work difficult.

Dancer Rea

Report from Sol Tempest

(Personal message to Anyte Luitolf, Dancer Rea) Duke Dancer Do not presume to command me while you are in a prison cell. I will pass judgement when the time is appropriate and not sooner. In this case you will remain in that cell until our Queen has the energy to see you thought those bars. Don't cite law at me either, we are beyond the laws of men and you damn well know it. I might be young or a child as you say but you assume too often I am a fool.

Sol Tempest

Orders from Dancer Rea

(Personal message to Sol Tempest) I will cite whatever I damn well please, Judge Sol. You are no fool, or I would speak down to you, and you damn well know it. My patience with these imbeciles and cowards you call guards is growing thin. If you believe me to have done wrong in saving our Queen, then take my head and be done with it. Otherwise let me to my business. It is your job to pass judgement, not the Queen's. Do so, so that I may rest in peace or be able to do my earthly works, such as they are. ~Dan

Dancer Rea

Report from Sol Tempest

(Personal message to Dancer Rea) Don't temp me.

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer looked to the most recent letter, and growled in disgust before whipping it in the "read" pile. Sol was young. She would come around soon enough, he need not indulge in yelling at her, even if it would improve his temper. The small space was getting on his nerves, and the rough treatment of his back was starting to really get to him. He wasn't young anymore, and the hard wood 'bed' and rough shirts on his scars was a daily irritant. He'll just give her a few more days, and just try to escape this place. It wasn't like it could get much worse, after all, Anyte would never speak to him again, and he was sure Sol would be taking his titles for his actions. A man with nothing is a feral animal indeed.

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Jheda Orobar

It took Jheda several hours and many conversations, yet he still wasn't able to piece together what exactly happened in the Throne room. People always talked, and they always added spicy details to wow their public. Apparently Duke Dancer either summoned a deamon to save the Queen, cut off his right hand to offer it or killed several prisoners and bathed the Queen in their blood. Other stories about Judge Sol talked about how she stripped naked to astonish the Gods and gain their favour, or how she recited a prayer, convincing Death this was not the time with nothing but her persuasiveness. Jheda concluded there had been some kind of ritual, and whatever happened, in the end it worked, as news reached him the Queen was recovering. And there was an other fact. Duke Dancer was thrown in a cell in the dungeons of the palace. Like a filthy peasant. Jheda set out to do something about that. Two grim, broad-shouldered men guarded the entrance to the dungeons. Their facial expression didn't change when Jheda approached, but he could feel their cold contempt. "Let me in", Jheda ordered. "No one enters without clearance from Judge Sol", the one on the left answered, clearly not planning on wasting many words on the situation. "Not the wisest of decisions, fool. I am the Lord of Unger. These dungeons are mine. You get paid with my gold. Well, you used to, as your career ends today. Now, if you appreciate your head being attached to your shoulders, step aside." The man's face lost all colour as he quickly opened the gate, while rubbing his neck as if he already could feel the blade. Once inside, Jheda was taken to Duke Dancer's cell. The man sitting behind the bars had surely known better days. Whatever happened during the ritual, it must have drained all of his energy. Being put on a water and bread diet probably made things worse. And the smell... Jheda's breakfast was making it's way back to his mouth. He ordered the guard to open the cell door. "Duke Dancer, I don't know what happened, but I don't really care either. The Queen is saved, I guess I and the rest of Thalmarkin owe you." Jheda paused for a minute, looking at the cell, small and filthy, before he continued. "Judge Sol must be out of her mind. Whatever reason she has for taking your freedom, she should've known better than putting you here like the lowest criminal. You're a bloody Duke. I'll be taking you to your own chambers. You'll understand you'll be on house arrest until we hear from Judge Sol. I'll put my own guards at the doors. But at least it will be far better than rotting away here." Jheda ordered a servant to prepare a bath and have the kitchen prepare a decent meal. He knew there would be consequences, Judge Sol wouldn't like her affairs to be interfered with, but that were problems for later. Duke Dancer wouldn't be treated like cattle, not if he could do something about it.

Jheda Orobar

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

For the last several days he'd been moping, refusing to wear a shirt and barely eating. The wool from the shirts they had given him irritated the skin around his scars something fierce, and he had given up on wearing a one at all. Nobody visited him but the guards, so his presentation hardly mattered. He lay on his belly across the wood plank that served as a bed, letting the cool air from the small barred window wash across his scarred back. Anyte hadn't had him freed, nor had she visited. She hadn't even sent him a personal letter. What a fool he was, thinking she would even speak to him anymore, let alone marry him. Idly, he pushed several bits of paper around the wood of the 'bed', each with a slightly different signature on them, even if the letters were the same. He traced an "A" with his finger. She must hate him, leaving him here in this - A commotion from the hall outside the heavy oak door broke into his thoughts, a commanding voice ordering guards around. Dancer swept the bits of paper up quickly, stuffing them down in the crack between the wall and the board. The cell door was opened, this time without any orders for Dancer. Had they finally come for his head? Dancer got his feet under himself, sitting on the edge of the board, ready to fight. He hadn't thought Sol would actually do it, but...... Margrave Jheda Orobar appeared in the door frame, nose screwed up like he'd walked into a pigsty. The guards had not bothered to clean up after Dancer had thrown his half-full bucket at a nosy guard the other day, so it wasn't really a surprise the room might be offensive to his nose. "Duke Dancer, I don't know what happened, but I don't really care either. The Queen is saved, I guess I and the rest of Thalmarkin owe you." Jheda paused for a minute, looking at the cell, small and filthy, before he continued. "Judge Sol must be out of her mind. Whatever reason she has for taking your freedom, she should've known better than putting you here like the lowest criminal. You're a bloody Duke. I'll be taking you to your own chambers. You'll understand you'll be on house arrest until we hear from Judge Sol. I'll put my own guards at the doors. But at least it will be far better than rotting away here." A quick word back through the doorway, and a servant was sent to prepare a bath and food. It had been days since he'd had a bath, and he had no doubt the iron and sulfur stench from his ritual was still clinging to him. Real food - not meager bowls of porridge or dry bread: his mouth nearly started watering. A warm smile found it's way to Dancer's face as he looked at his former knight. "Margrave Jheda. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Dancer rose from the 'bed', and crossed his arms over his bare chest. "You've earned it, Herald or not. Food and a warm bath sounds wonderful. However," the smile fell from Dancer's face, "you have already forgotten what I have tried to teach you. I know you know the consequences of disrupting the Judge's works, so I won't patronize you by listing them." The Duke uncrossed his arms, lifting his palms up in front of the young man. "Tell me, Margrave, what are the three things I ask of every knight that swears fealty to me?"

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Jheda Orobar

Jheda couldn't say he was surprised. The man standing before him, visibly weakened from his recent ordeal and subsequent imprisonment, had not lost a single bit of his typical attitude. Where a normal person would be grateful for being freed from such a hellhole, Duke Dancer saw it fit to take this moment and teach his former knight a lesson. Jheda shook his head, smiled and answered: "Good to see your forced stay in this luxurious inn hasn't caused you any lasting damage. Now, if you're talking about having eachother's backs, you'll understand I was conflicted in this particular situation. I felt your noble rights were being violated, so I acted. It is my right as Lord of Unger. If Sol wants you in a dungeon, it won't be in mine." Jheda guided the Duke upstairs, anticipating to support the man should he need it. Maybe it was sheer will-power, maybe his pride, but Dancer didn't flinch once. It was more like he regained his power with every step he took, walking around as if he owned the place. One thing disrupted this image. Every time they crossed a servant, or a piece of decoration, anything that could remind him of Queen Anyte, a flash of pain and sorrow could be seen on his face. Jheda tried to distract the Duke with casual conversation: "About those three things. May I suggest a fourth? Maybe you should make daily exercise mandatory. I've been keeping a close eye on Sol's back. It would be a real shame to see that lovely behind turn into blubber." He tried several other things, but it didn't spark much reaction, the Duke remained mostly silent. When they finally reached the chambers Jheda had prepared for Dancer, he faced him one last time before leaving him on his own. "Duke Dancer, this will be your prison for now. Two guards will be at the doors at all times. If you need anything, you can ask the servants. Oh, and one last thing. What the hell happened in the Throne room? I've heard so many rumours, and I can't say I hope any of them are true."

Jheda Orobar

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer sighed inwardly as they walked up endless flights of stairs. Either Jheda trusted him not to cause trouble, or the young man wasn't experienced enough to realize his mistake in walking Dancer around by himself. No matter, running or violence would not serve his purpose anyway, and would only make the situation with Sol worse. As they made their way up through Castle Unger, Dancer couldn't help but flinch at several portraits of Anyte. As the Queen of Thalmarkin, she was very predominant throughout the castle, and many additional portraits as well as former servants from her time as Margravine lined the walls of the entire building. The freshly minted Margrave was making lewd jokes, but Dancer was too busy thinking about Antye to really pay attention to him. Even the itching from the woolen shirt he'd quickly put on, (while Jheda hadn't flinched at his scars, he didn't really want the stares of the servants) couldn't interrupt his thoughts. That is, until they reached his new cell, a fancy thing meant for guests of the highest courts. The front room had several bookshelves, a table, several expensive looking tapestries, fireplace with a fresh fire, and small but decorative writing desk. A separate door no doubt lead to sleeping quarters. "Oh, and one last thing. What the hell happened in the Throne room? I've heard so many rumours, and I can't say I hope any of them are true." Dancer glanced at the young man, his milky eyes boring into his former knight. No doubt there would be rumors, a Queen getting up from certain death would have done that itself, but Sol had had servants clean the throne room, and Dancer had no doubt at least some of them had loose lips. His reputation with the peasantry had no doubt only further exasperated any bits of truth that had left the room. "Sit with me, Jheda." Dancer waved to the gaudy table set, and both men sat facing each other. He would have to tread carefully with this. Jheda may be one of his former knights, someone he had taken under his wing, but he was still a Herald, and now Lord of Unger. "All rumors have a grain of Truth, Jheda. I came to the city to find the Queen slowly dying, several dagger wounds across her torso. As you know, I know some little things about magic, and the use of scrolls. Within a matter of hours healing scrolls were brought to me. Sol insisted on asking the Old Gods for help first, of course. I allowed it, if only since it is the Queen's chosen deities." Dancer stared at the younger man, assessing his reaction. Jheda was a Herald after all, any 'gods' that were not that disgusting excuse of a bedtime story tended to be met with strong reactions. To his credit, the young man showed little reaction, so Dancer continued. "It failed to heal her, so I moved to use the scrolls brought to me." The cultist glanced at the fireplace, watching a the small fire lick about some fresh logs. "I used several scrolls, channeling the energy of each into a holding receptacle, before I began the Healing scroll." Dancer looked back to the Margrave. "I channeled the power of the previous scrolls into the Healing scroll, multiplying its power several fold. It disintegrated under the strain, leaving me in a circle of powerful magics, with nowhere to go. Someone else took the reins of my spell, channeling the power into another healing scroll. They saved the Queen, not me."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Jheda Orobar

Jheda sat down at the Duke's invitation. As soon as he did, servants, who had blended in with the background almost as if they were part of the furniture, came forward and started their work. Two silver goblets were placed in front of the Noble Lords. A variety of drinks, chilled water, beer and wine were presented to meet their every need. A silver platter filled with several fruits, nuts and cheeses followed. The servants disappeared quietly. This all happened in a few short moments, without any orders or spoken words. Jheda was amazed. It wouldn't be hard to get used to this way of living. Duke Dancer began to tell the story of the Queen's rescue. While he did, he stared directly into Jheda's eyes. Jheda returned the look without fear in his heart. Those milky eyes were remarkable. Jheda wondered how they got to be like that, and if Dancer could now see less or more. Maybe a bit of both. As Dancer mentioned deities, he felt the anger grow inside. As a young noble, he had been looking for a motherlike figure to replace the broken, abusive relationship he had with his own mother. He thought he found it in Obia'Syela, with the Veiled Goddess Obeah and the Oracle Rania. Turned out he was wrong, he got betrayed by an other motherfigure. No, he was done with that religion. The only reason he was still a Herald was politics. Self-interest. Nobody knew that though, and Jheda wanted to keep it that way. So, none of this internal turmoil reached his face. The story came to it's conclusion with an unexpected finale. Somebody else was involved? Dancer's summary brought more questions than it answered. Jheda stared into the fireplace, where the fire now reached its peak just as the Duke finished, and he wondered if that was somehow symbolic. Letting everything sink in for a moment, it took a while before he answered. "Your version of the events gives me no clue as to why Judge Sol would throw you in a dungeon. Magic isn't illegal, or it shouldn't be to save the Queen. And she basically did the same as you, although in a different way. I wonder what she has to say." Jheda knew Sol somewhat, mostly from some casual flirting, but he didn't get the impression she was unreasonable. Women and their hormones tough, it made them unpredictable. "And about the someone taking over your spell, any idea who that could be, or who even is capable to do such a thing?" Before Dancer could answer, a demanding knock interrupted their conversation. As the door was opened by a guard, a captain, judging from her colours and coat of arms working for the Tempest family, ordered the Duke to follow her to the Queen's chambers. "Patience, good captain. Duke Dancer needs a bath first. If he appears before the Queen like this, she might die after all. I will call for you when he's ready." Jheda bought Dancer some time to prepare himself for this meeting. Maybe the Duke needed more support, so the Margrave asked if he wanted his company. Jheda somewhat feared an affirmative answer. Meeting both the Queen and the Judge at once, he wouldn't be able to control his inner self as he did before. He could already feel how his heart started racing. How did he always end up in these kind of situations?

Jheda Orobar

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Hm. The young man wanted to join him with his audience with An....the Queen. Jheda's face had reddened slightly at the request, and Dancer let a slight smile creep on his face. The boy must be smitten with Sol, clearly. "Of course you may join me, Margrave. Perhaps your questions are better answered with Sol in the room anyways. First, however....." Dancer's voice took a hard, commanding edge as he ordered servants to get him a bath, and some of his shirts from his quarters in the city. Servant scuttling about, he disappeared into the side room, pulling the damnable itchy prison shirt off as he got in the door. Hair still wet, finally dressed in his own clothes, and Jheda at his side, Dancer was escorted through the city, up to the old place that Anyte resides in. The captain had made it clear the repercussions for any attempts at escape, so even when they passed through the back of the throne room, Dancer followed the woman in near perfect lock step. The clean up job in the Throne room was impressive, the only thing Dancer could see was a slightly darker ring of stones around the old plinth. Nothing anyone would notice unless they were looking for it. Overlord's skull seemed to watch him with cold eyes as he passed, the skull also well cleaned of his markings. After what seemed like only moments, they arrived at the Queen's door, and the captain banged on the door with gusto. The door opened, Sol standing in the doorway. "Judge Sol, here is Duke Dancer as requested and in a presentable manor. Lord Jheda accompanied us as well. Regarding that fact I have something we need to discuss in private but it can wait until after." Captain Estrilda showed the Duke and Lord into the room, bowing before awaiting outside the chambers.

Dancer Rea

Act 4.3 The Exile

Roleplay from Anyte Luitolf

The knock at the door pounded throughout Anyte's head sounding as if a battering ram was banging down a fortress door, and without question, Hailwica went to answer it. The dark-haired girl opened the door, but before she could say anything, the guard in question announced her greeting to Judge Sol. Judge Sol, here is Duke Dancer as requested and in a presentable manner. Lord Jheda accompanied us as well. Regarding that fact, I have something we need to discuss in private but it can wait until after." Estrilda, the same woman who Sol had sent off, brought in the Duke and Margrave without even acknowledging the young woman who opened the door, then went and stood quietly outside the chambers awaiting her time to speak with the Judge herself as Hailwica closed the door. Anyte sat up in her bed as the two lords made their way into the room. She was unsure as to why Jheda had come, and still very much questioned his devotion to the heralds. His appointment to Unger was just as much a way to keep at eye on him as it was to reward him for his efforts in chasing down her assailant. The queen sat on the edge of the bed, haggard eyes darting between Jheda, Dancer, and Sol trying to make sense of the situation. Before her stood a woman who was part the lies of Vordulism, a man who came from the one religion that had tried to eradicate her family at one point, and a magician of the darkest arts imaginable. Never in her life did Anyte ever thing she would have such polar opposites alone in a room together. This was almost like something straight out of the overly dramatic plays that traveling entertainers sometimes put on. After a few moments, Anyte settled her gaze upon Dancer. Her smoldering stare should have told him that she had already assumed what he had done, but she had little proof and wasn't going to outright out him to the others in the room. "Dancer, I will allow you to decide if you want these people here while you explain to me exactly what happened in that throne room. I'm not even sure what he is here," she said gesturing over to the new Margrave of Unger. "As for you Sol, I have always had faith in my council members, and that includes you. If you think the punishment fits, then it is yours to give. I won't say no," she said while shifting her eyes to Sol, then back to Dancer," So, what do you say?"

Anyte Luitolf

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer's mouth went dry. His eyes flicked to both Jheda and Sol in turn, calculating and cold, before settling back on Anyte. Sol had certainly seen to much, and Jheda wasn't stupid. Sol clearly was against his faith if she was calling for punishment, and Jheda was a Herald, zealots designed to hunt people like Dancer down and end them. Pushing down panic, Dancer licked his lips before starting his story. "Jheda requested to join us, and I had not finished explaining anything to him before your," Dancer gestured at the closed door, "guard dog interrupted us. I do not wish to explain everything twice." Both of his former knights looked at him with rapt attention. Antye still just looked angry. He could tell them some things, he supposed. They had earned that much from him. "I'm not going to tell you everything just yet, neither of you are ready. However, you have each proved you deserve at least the basics. I am not a follower of Mordok, and never have been. Priestess Angela Barrett promoted me after I made a few sizable donations to the coffers." He paused for a moment, clearly thinking. "I follow a....... pagan religion, one that values Truth, strength, and loyalty. It also has deep roots in magic, and the use of such power." His eyes flicked back to Jheda. "The Heralds, ignorant as they are, do understand one thing; magic comes the soul." His eyes flicked back to Sol. "What the Heralds don't understand is to be successful in a casting, the more souls you use, and the more potent the soul, the stronger the casting will be." Finally, he settled on watching Anyte. By the Lords, she was beautiful when she was angry. The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife as Dancer continued his story: "My Queen, I had started to prepare to cast a healing scroll on you, when Sol," He gestured at the young dame, "interrupted me. She insisted on preforming a ritual from your Dark Mistress before I did anything farther. I preformed a short ritual to keep you stable while Sol attempted her work." Dancer paused, letting a small scowl cross his face. "Something answered, certainly. I could feel it above the plinth as Sol prayed. What it was, I do not know, but it had some small power, and it flowed around both you and Sol as if water from as winter stream before returning where it came from. Whatever it was, it halted your death." Dancer tried not to choke on the thought of Anyte dying. She was here, and she was safe. "I casted several scrolls, but instead of letting the power flow free, I was able to hold it in place, building it up." He looked to Sol, for a moment. "What you saw, it was only to get the magic started. Those cattle would have been put on the block regardless for failing to protect our Queen. In this way, their souls were not wasted by some executioner's hand. They served a higher purpose, Sol, even if you personally find it repulsive." His milky eyes swung back to Anyte. "I took that power, and I funneled it into a healing scroll." His voice dropped to a growl, "I lost control of the damnable thing, and the healing scroll turned to ash before even a quarter of the magic was used." His voice softened again, and a small smile tugged at his mouth. "However, it seems you have a powerful friend, My Queen. Someone channeled into my spell, which is no small feat of magical prowess." Dancer's voice took a dry tone, "I was unaware it was even possible. He took over the spell, and I believe used another healing scroll, forming the power in my circle into it's intended purpose." Dancer stopped, allowing his words to sink in. "To your question, Jheda, yes, I do know who it was. However, I will not share his name, as he prefers to keep to himself. How Antye has gotten his loyalty, I do not know, but he is a powerful man. I had been aware his sword arm was strong, as he has reportedly bested a Deamon Lord in single combat, but I was not aware of his magical prowess." Dancer stared at the wall behind Anyte, straightening himself into a proper soldier's attention. "Are we done here, My Queen?"

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Judge Sol listens as Dancer regaled his version of the events from the throne room that had saved Queen Anyte's life. As she listened Lady Tempest nodded in agreement. At least the Duke hadn't taken to lying about the situation thought it was still obvious some truths were being omitted. Dancer finally concluded his story with, ""Are we done here, My Queen?" "No we are not done here Duke Dancer, no where near done." Judge Tempest quickly replied before the man could sneak out of the room for Dan surely knew Sol had more to say. With a scornful voice Sol continued, "Regardless of what happened in the throne room there are other transgressions on your behalf that must be answered. I warned you that failure to comply with the law would result in harsher penalties. Worst of all your own utter contempt for my court and my own judgements. WHERE IS THE PORTRAIT DANCER!" Lady Tempest calms herself down before handing out the sentence, "I have had enough of you undermining or disregarding my authority at your leisure. No more. You will comply this time or you will find yourself banished from the realm, or worse and yes I can think of much worse trust me." With a shout Judge Sol would order Captain Estrilda into the room, "With Queen Anyte and Margrave Jheda here as witness, I Sol Tempest, Judge of Thalmarkin sentence you Duke Dancer to exile in the wailing woods, naked with nothing more than a small dagger at your disposal. I will not lift this exile until you find and procure the finest pelts of either the bear or the wolf so that you can hand make our Queen a fur coat. Its going to be cold this winter and she deserves a fine one. Actually you know what for all the rubbish you make me deal with on an almost daily basis I want a fur coat as well." Sol turned to face Anyte to see her reaction once again before continuing her unreasonable demands from the unreasonable Duke, "Yes, naked exile to the wailing wood until you have the material to produce two of the finest fur coats any of the Kin will have laid eyes on. OH AND THAT DAMN PAINTING. I don't care if your naked on the pony for the portrait, come back with it or don't come back at all." With a nod to Captain Estrilda Sol would conclude her sentencing, "Say what you will to our Queen now Dan and then Captain Estrilda will ensure you start your naked vacation. Don't test me, I am at the limit of my patience."

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Jheda Orobar

The weather on Beluaterra was an amazing miracle, an unstoppable force of nature. One moment you could be enjoying yourself in the sun, letting the warm light melt away the coldness in your bones. Then, in a matter of seconds, dark clouds gathered out of nowhere. A deafening thunder was merely the prelude of a majestic symphony of wild noises. Lightning so bright even blind people could see it. Wind able to blow the clothes right off your body. And when it started raining, it was as if it wouldn't stop until all sins were washed away from the face of the planet. But as sudden as it started, it would end. The sun would break through the clouds, birds resumed their songs. As if nothing ever happened. The storm Jheda witnessed was fierce and terrifying, an unrelenting force able to claim your life without hesitation. But by the Gods, was she beautiful. An elegant flower in fields of weed. He was drawn to her, like a moth to the light, inevitable and for reasons unknown. When Sol stopped talking, a silence filled the room. As nobody took the word, Jheda made a step forward after tearing his eyes off of Sol with visible effort. After making a respectful bow towards the Queen, he spoke: "My Queen, how wonderful to see you're recovering. When the news of the attack reached me, I was afraid. Then Duke Dancer assured me you would survive, and sent me after the assassin. As you must have heard by now, my mission failed. Fortunately, Duke Dancer was more successful. Even if he didn't finish the scroll himself, it was his effort that gave you a chance. His efforts combined with those of Judge Sol." Jheda gave both a sincerely grateful nod. "I and everyone in Thalmarkin owe them our eternal gratitude." "Which brings me to the following. Judge Sol," Jheda turned to face her and lost his train of thought for a moment, "I...uh...I was...Damn it. Let me get this of my chest. Your beauty is distracting. If your intelligence matches even half of it, you'll no doubt become the greatest Judge Beluaterra has ever seen. From what I've seen so far, you're well on your way. Still, I'd like to speak on behalf of Duke Dancer. We know the man has a temper, can be disrespectful to the Kin and often walks a thin line between respecting the Law and breaking it. These are facts and I won't deny them. But he also works tirelessly for Thalmarkin. He provides funds, guides his knights to better things, disposes excess summon scrolls and so on. When the Queen needed rescuing, it was him who provided the healing scrolls. You say he hasn't produced the portrait from a previous punishment. May I remind you the Duke returned from such a disposing mission, learned the Queen was attacked, came to her rescue and got thrown in a dungeon. When exactly would he have had the time to take care of his fine?" Jheda gave Sol some time to think on his arguments. She probably knew everything he said, and more. It couldn't hurt to remind her though. "Judge Sol, don't you think this new punishment is quite harsh? Why exactly does he need to be naked? Last I heard bears and wolves don't feed on worms, so it can't be to bait them. If it is to humiliate him, well, than I might have to change my opinion of you. We're talking about a Highborn Duke, not some peasant. And how would you even know he plays by the rules, stays naked and doesn't get some help? No, I implore you to change your judgement, or at least change some things to make it to somewhat more humane."

Jheda Orobar

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Margrave Jheda's voice was not quite what Lady Tempest had expected, much more soft commanding then she expected a man she shared such silly banter with before in their letters. When the Margrave finally turned to address Judge Sol over Dancers judgement she was caught completely off guard. Your beauty is distracting. Sol had never really given such things much thought before in her life and other that Margrave Rob hadn't heard such a complement from anyone else. While she was always sure Rob's comments were sincere Lady Tempest also took it with a grain of salt because of how smitten the boy was. Always thinking herself more of a warrior than a lady it stirred certain emotion in Margravine Sol however she made her best attempt to hide them in the moment. Listening intently to the words of consequence from Jheda Sol pondered her own actions and statement. Was the judgement too harsh. No probably not for if anyone in the realm deserved such an exile is was Duke Dancer if he was not the constant source of aggravation he was the cause of it mostly likely. Resolved with her thoughts Judge Sol address Margrave Jheda's concerns. "No I don't think such a punishment is too harsh. For one the Duke had ample opportunity to make good on his judgment before the unfortunate circumstances, almost a month in fact which was the mandated time. Second, Dancer is a jackass and to be quite frank I'v had it with his attitude of dismissing my authority whenever he feel it suits him. That will not continue one way or another either by this exile or worse means he will come to understand my position as Judge of Thalmarkin." Glancing at Dancer Sol could already see that murderous intent glistening in his eyes before continuing, "But perhaps you are right, the act of exile does not in fact need to be harsh on top of that already difficult fact, that and you painted a rather unpleasant mental painting about his... ugh worm. Don't do that again. So I shall amend that he will be exiled only with a dagger and enough clothes to keep him warm. Everything else he will have to forge for himself in the wild. Also if it was to humiliate him what of it? Perhaps it is my turn to get pleasure out of sadism upon him as I suspect he gets every time he causes trouble for myself. Which I should not need to remind you is extremely often." Judge Sol looks to the nobles gathered in the room, "Queen Anyte, Duke Dancer, Margrave Jheda I think with this I am resolved. The Duke will be exiled until he can fulfill the requirements previously stated or he won't be coming back at all. If anyone else has anything to say on the matter you best speak now because I would like to consider this settled. Duke Dancer, you don't have the right to make any objections, not until myself and our Queen have our presents."

Sol Tempest

Roleplay from Dancer Rea

Dancer had watched quietly as his two Lords postured. One, given responsibility too soon, and the other, thinking with his manhood. Children. He sighed as the two bickered back and forth. Jheda would be easy enough to correct, ignoring one's libido in the face of the opposite sex was simple enough to teach. Sol, on the other hand, needed a lesson in humility, and Dancer was in no position to give her one. He sighed again, thinking of his own lesson in humility, several decades ago now. Whipping the errant Judge until she was raw would certainly draw Antye's ire. Anyte. He watched her, as frail as she was, still sitting with that air of command shimmering in the air about her. Her beautiful, fiery hair, eyes as green as a well kept pasture..... "Duke Dancer, you don't have the right to make any objections, not until myself and our Queen have our presents." Sol's captain moved then, the clink of a set of shackles betraying her movement. That would not do, not again, and most certainly not in front of Anyte. Dancer didn't move. He didn't have to. "Jax." The growl Dancer produced was low, guttural. A set of blankets by the fire moved, and a Seemalach fox emerged, pouncing straight for the captain. Jax shimmered in midair, and came down on the unfortunate captain as a massive Great Dane, midnight fur bristling. To the woman's credit, she stilled, and looked to Sol for support. Dancer growled, notes of warning peppering his voice. "I do not appreciate your cow arresting my person every other day, Judge Sol." Dancer glared at the errant Lord. What could he do, to show her some humility? His eyes flicked to Jheda and back to Sol. Perhaps he could hunt two birds, with one stone. "I think you will find I have every right to make objections to such a ridiculous punishment, namely where punishment is not warranted in the first place, and where such a punishment is nearly a death sentence." Dancer's tone dropped darker still. "I saved the Queen, Sol. Your 'authority' is derived from her person, and you should act as such." "However," He managed to lighten his voice to an animalistic growl again, "I understand you feel the need to punish, therefore, I propose a Duel to Surrender. You win, and I will go with your 'punishment,' with a few changes, namely to improve the chances of survival." His eyes glinted with glee. "However, if I win, you will take one of your.." Dancer tossed a thumb at Jheda, "suitors, out for a romantic dinner for two." With a toss of his wolfish smile, Dancer turned heel to leave the room. "Jax, return to the Queen." The hound rose, licking Dancer's hand before bounding back to his place under the blankets by the fire. "I will await your challenge at dawn, in the local arena. I advise you get some rest."

Dancer Rea

Roleplay from Sol Tempest

Judge Sol listened as Dancer prattled on arguing over who should be the one arresting him and even going to far as to challenge Lady Tempest to a duel with the creature known as Jax growling in the background. Perhaps all of this would have been startling to the Lady Judge, if it was not entirely the normal when dealing with Duke Dancer. Holding her hands to her face Sol lets out a large sigh before speaking, "Dancer we are done here. There will be no duel. You will either abide by the punishment, or be banished. I simply don't care anymore. I don't care how but deliver what was demanded or face the consequences. We are done." Lady Tempest turns to face Queen Anyte and Margrave Jheda, "My Queen, Lord Orobar. I am taking my leave, I have grown to weary of this argument. Either Dancer will abide, or he will not. I will do what I must later on if need be." With her final words said Judge Sol departs the Queen's Chambers with Captain Estrilda in tow.

Sol Tempest