westwhere | feast and make merry

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feast and make merry

MASQUERADE

The following events should cover the span to 31 AUGUST. Feel free to make your own posts/logs, or use this one! Routes have been built based on previous plotting, but any last-minute questions can be asked here. Try to limit it to asking concrete outcomes for things you are definitely exploring in your tag-ins!

■ Don Macaluso has welcomed his suitors, including the party's very own Diego Hargreeves. And his wolves. He stretches Taravast's hospitality to a lavish masked fete, observed at the Palace of the Doxe. No expense spared, no opportunity to flaunt lost.

■ In attendance — sorcerers' schools, foreign dignitaries and suitors, prominent healers and academicians, artists and politicians, members of the Conclave and, somehow, the Merchant's hooligans. Good gossips, one and all. Show up or throw the gauntlet: those who do not come willing will be escorted in by guards.

■ Even Lady Vannozza and her supporters come to wish Macaluso well in his conjugal pursuit. She publicly gifts him a cryogenic rose, urging her cousin to award it to his intended. Macaluso calmly accepts the flower, then discards it on his table.

■ Out of respect for the nascent political contest, the supporters of Vannozza and Macaluso — yes, you — are seated at two different tables on each side of the fleetingly present Doxe Bonaccorso. The old man will appear in feeble health but firm dignity, excusing himself after a tremulous speech that ends, tenderly, "Citadels are for the living. They are for the gathering of means, of magic, for the making of families and legacies. They are not coin for commerce. I welcome you to my home."

■ For the grand finale, Macaluso's servants introduce a traditional fragile, sweet confection offered to his private guests. It can be refused. Those who consume the confection will find their strength and senses progressively deteriorate, threatening to kill them within five days.

■ A good showing by Fox, Mingyu, Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu, Xie Lian and Alina earned the Lady Odile more of Macaluso's favour. In gratitude, her servants send word to these characters only that there is poison afoot, without mentioning which dish.

■ Within the hour, Macaluso calls the celebration to its end, pained to announce it has been stained by sabotage and poison. Macaluso's guests, including the characters in his employ are drawn into private quarters and examined by physicians, who name the cause of the sickness — winter lily mist — but offer no clear antidote.

■ Frustrated, two healers will list two superstitious cures: the elusive, shady 'fire water' of the necromantic district's underground ~~poisoners~~ 'potions brewers' or the ground feather of an elusive owl last seen in the private, locked away Spina hunting grounds.

■ Characters assigned to Macaluso will spend the night huddled together, with healers. Fearing her people will be unfairly faulted for the poisoning, Vannozza will lock her attendants in her palace wing. The atmosphere is tense, with Vannozza's people accusing characters and each other. Overnight, some of Macaluso's drunk supporters will try to enter Vannozza's palace wing and cause a brawl. Defend the lady?

■ Come morning, the poisoning is blamed on the ringleader of one of the recent protests objecting to Macaluso's marriage to a foreigner. Characters may circulate freely.

THE SHADY MAN TO THE LEFT

■ The necromantic district is a... literally and metaphorically shady congregation of small, run-down houses and the city's 'finest': criminals, thieves, the mates of your horsecar friend Caspar, actual necromancers and sellers of flesh parts.

■ Those who ask for 'fire water' will face a few days of exploration until an old beggar finally takes pity on their cause and, in exchange for wine, offers them an introduction to a secretive ~~gang~~ gathering of necromancers — the Unseeing Watch.

■ The Watch are an eerie group of grotesquely deformed necromancers, some of whom have clearly been stirred back from death a number of times themselves. They explain that the 'fire water' is a brew that can be obtained from two sources: the blood of either a man who has killed many innocents ruthlessly (such as the many murderers and slavers who travel the darker corners of the district) or of a...

■ ...harpy, not unlike those encountered in the Stairs of Sighs corridor: winged creatures dripping tar and harrowing sorcery, that crowd in flocks at the periphery of Taravast. The harpies of Taravast are ancient defenders of the city, who have forgotten their purpose and turned feral. Their claws run sharp, causing cuts that bleed without healing properly for hours.

■ The harpies are best faced in pairs, but beware: if you speak too long, they will learn your voice and imitate it to lure in your companions. They will also attune to emotions and mimic the voices of people characters remember.

■ Retrieve two blood vials from either man or creature to the necromancers, along with two vials of your own blood, and the Watch will prepare two batches of antidote. One cup for you, the other for their own purposes.

THE (HUNTING) GAME IS ON

■ Wen Qing has brokered access to the hunting grounds, for an easy entrance point. Those who wish to find an alternative route can try to have their characters infiltrate Vannozza's quar ters and steal her keys — but only theft such offensive can be carried out, so unite forces.

■ The Spina hunting grounds are a few hours' ride away, and carriage drivers seem unwilling to make the journey. Help the local economy: steal a horse.

■ The forests are a magnificent spread of everything dark and haunted, drenched in mist and sporting minimal visibility. There is a pronounced air of death and the stench of decay, with perfect, eerie stillness during the scant sunlight and a torture of creaking sounds, whispers and ghostly chills at night.

■ In addition to the typical violent forest fare — wolves, foxes, bears — the grounds also host the first sign of true undead: less well composed than some characters might remember the men of Anurr, lacking true awareness. Their garb and occasional garbled talk will reveal them as former sorcerers and witches of Attaryl and Bessis, killed during the confrontation between the two schools. Their spirits have been bound to protect the grounds — and they give vicious chase, calling on fire magic and wooing animals to help their hunt of invaders.

■ Run. Run fast.

■ Only two antidote owls emerge at night, drawn to drink from the forest's (shallow, broad) lake water. They are a mated pair, highly sensitive to sound, likely to escape on the first few attempts of capture and indifferent to magic. Farmhouse lesson: careful with the lake waters. The hands of bound spirits might seek to pull innocents in.

■ Owl feathers, ground and thinned with water, can create a highly potent cure that will take days to return a patient to full health — their hearts, eaten whole, can give one person instant recovery. Up to you, if you want to be that asshole.

QUESTIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course the warning Five meant to convey to them is lost, but Wrath seems awfully defensive of his implication. He may have had some harsher words to follow, but once Allison interjects he merely shakes his head and turns his attention to the buildings they pass at the turn.

He only snaps back to attention when they arrive at a shop to someone already waiting for them. He's known how much time Wrath spends down here, even followed him once, but he's honestly thrown off to hear someone refer to him as his teacher. Apparently the exchange of knowledge he shared with the necromancers was more one-sided than he let on.

Does he have his own set of worshippers now? More importantly, did they know they were coming? He steps to the side so he can get a better look at them and exchange glances with Allison. Tell him again what didn't originate here.

Wrath is cursing at himself that he had forgotten he'd contacted one of the disciples of his that awaited outside the store for him. As a strategist, he can only blame the poison shooting through his veins for muddying his head. He thought this disciple could start looking ahead for him, and then he had been thrown off course by hearing Five tell him Emilia and Allison were heading to the district tonight.

The disciple, for his part, does look confused as to why more people are with him than what he had thought. With the way the disciple currently looks (near tears for fear of disappointing him - and it is nice to wield any type of following again, respect again), Wrath only hopes to keep his poisoned status from him as long as possible.

"Thank you for looking into it. I am here now, sooner than I anticipated with... friends." That seems the simplest way to explain it. "We'll go speak to them. Can you wait in the space used for lessons in case there is anything else you might be able to help with after we do?"

The disciple nods, relieved they haven't disappointed even if they're curious as to why this cure is needed. "Yes, of course. I'll be there. This must be urgent."

The disciple steps in the opposite direction, not far. Wrath glances at the rest of the group like this is all completely normal as he inclines his head toward the door.

Allison hangs back, letting her eyes scan the area to see if anyone is watching them. She's not sure what to make of Wrath's disciple, but at least it's good to know she hasn't been the only one trying to make some friends with the locals.

You never know where good information might come in handy

But she'll let Wrath do the talking, and when he indicates they should move forward, she follows, taking in the state of things. The shop is uncomfortable, and cramped - much like what she'd expect from a place like this. There's likely a lot of stuff she doesn't want to know the use for. But for now, she keeps her mouth shut and watches.

The shop is every bit as dark and cramped as one would expect, potions lining shelves and ingredients for various concoctions filling up the rest. He takes them past the entrance, down the stairs, and to a basement door.

He knocks. A pause, before a small window on the door opens. Surveying of Wrath and his companions, and the window shuts. A moment later the door itself creaks open, revealing a small group of Necromancers on the other side. They all wear masks with long beaks, dress in black, none show their faces.

Wrath steps ahead in front of the group.

"I apologize for the late visit. Your help is needed, I'm afraid. A poisoning has occurred in the palace. The healers say it is Winter Lily Mist, and one possible cure might be found among Necromancers of great talent such as yourself. I do not expect help to be given freely. Name the cost."

The Necromancer takes a slow hobble toward Wrath. Far shorter than him, he lifts his gaze up to look at Wrath, holding one hand over the front of him like he's sensing... something. "And I see you've left out the important detail that you were poisoned yourself. ...a miracle to see you're still on your feet, standing, walking." They wave a hand then, looking around him at his companions. "The cost of such an antidote is great indeed. The cost to make it alone is in blood. Are you certain you wish to know?"

Wrath is faring better than anyone else he saw after the poisoning. Five eyes him for any sign that it's progressing, but he puts up a good front. Aside from showing his temper back in the palace, he might not have been able to tell. He has no idea who the woman is to him aside from assumptions, but it seems like she's the one Allison is familiar with. That fact still doesn't make him any happier about the association.

Once the door opens, the demon starts in, and he can at least appreciate that he gets right to the point. Between their unexpectedly formal speech and the masks, it reminds him too much of the Commission to let his nerves settle. It's hard for him to get a good look around the door, so he wedges himself near the wall where he can do a headcount of how many bodies are down here. By the time he has found a position with a good enough vantage point they're practically at an agreement.

He shifts uncomfortably when their spokesman can immediately tell who was poisoned. They also seem to immediately know of a cure, which only raises more suspicion, and he spares another quick glance to his sister. When he looks back the necromancer is addressing the rest of them and he balls his fists at his sides, anticipating something unexpected.

Five has been waiting to hear what the cost is, since everyone seems to talk about them like gold isn't enough. But they've come this far, and he needs to know how they work. When it takes them longer than two seconds to reply, he pipes up loudly.

"Who's blood?"

Attention fixed on Wrath, one of the Necromancers is quick to answer, "His."

A bit too quickly. A bit too overeager.

At least, for Emilia's liking. Their long-beaked masks make it difficult to study them the way she would like to, but she's almost positive she's not imagining this — the growing anticipation, subtler though it may be from some of them.

She'd expected this. Her foray into darker magic is recent enough that she is by no means an expert. The di Carlos are light witches meant to shun the practice. But she's learned enough to know this kind of magic demands payment one should be reticent to give. It's part of why she refused Wrath's blood bond, but even then, he was thorough in explaining how it worked and the cost.

Emilia senses no such straightforwardness from the Necromancers. The devil truly is in the details. She pins the sharpness of her gaze on the one who answered Five. "And how, exactly, are you to use his blood?"

Wrath knew there was to be a cost of some kind, but when they mention wanting his blood, his shoulders stiffen. He would never be willing to part with it, because he has been on the other side of this deal. Their eyes are on him like they attempt to be predators, but Wrath is older than all of them - more powerful except they currently hold the key to what ails him.

But he stares at them with all the sharpness and danger of a predator himself as he waits for their reply. His body is poised like a warrior, like a serpent coiled tightly, prepared to strike at a moment's notice.

The Necromancers shift at the weight of his ancient glare, but their attention never stops being pointed in the demon's direction, as if they can sense the power in his blood, the strength of it. "It is for your benefit, not our own. If you want your cure, we must have your blood. If you do not want it then be resigned to your fate."

Wrath's voice is sharp when he speaks from his position, stepping closer to the Necromancers. There is vitriol in his voice because at least he is incredibly clear about the conditions of his deals of blood: "Liar."

If they weren't on a clock, Allison wouldn't have pushed it. But depending on what other ingredients might be needed, they don't have time to waste it debating the nature of the details.

It isn't to say that she too doesn't sense the lie in the excuse they gave. They're looking at Wrath like this is the best opportunity that could be afforded them, like they've found an oasis in the driest desert. But that doesn't change the fact that they need this cure.

She steps forward, placing what she hopes is a reassuring hand on Wrath's shoulder, before she does something that is very much not reassuring.

"I heard a rumor you told us exactly what you wanted the blood for."

She remembers when saying those words used to be the easiest thing in the world. Now they have a weight to them, because she better understands the consequences. The air ripples with that weight, carrying her power across to the necromancer in front of her, who's eyes go milky white for a moment, and then he speaks.

"Blood is power. We take samples from all of our customers, either for security or leverage. Whichever happens to come of need first. Occasionally we will sell it to those who have need of it, for whatever political reasons may arise."

Yeah, that's what she thought. There's a bit of lingering influence still, and she continues. "Does it really need to be his blood?"

"No. Any blood from a living donor will do. That combined with the blood of a being drenched in death will produce a cure."

Allison smiles pleasantly. "Thank you. Would you give us a moment?"

Five watches the exchange with his teeth clenched. He still doesn't fully believe they have a cure at all, but Wrath seems convinced even if he plainly doesn't trust them. Five makes another mental note of how they're spaced around the room and does some quick calculations in case things go south. For all the tension in the air, the necromancers themselves don't back down or seem the least bit intimidated at the threat.

Of course Allison barely hesitates before she cuts in. Five doesn't miss the way she places a hand on Wrath's shoulder, and he narrows his eyes at her as she passes in front. He already knew what she came to do, but that doesn't mean he approves when they don't know how magic users react to her powers. Fortunately the necromancer clearly wasn't prepared.

They take blood from all their customers.

Well, fuck. Five gives Allison a stern look waiting for her to follow that up with 'I heard a rumor you forgot what you just saw' to the others, but maybe she's waiting for them to get out of here first.

"Anything else you need to know?" He huffs out a breath and turns to Wrath and Emilia, as if what just happened was perfectly normal. There's no time to debate, but he doubts anyone will argue about the cost after his sister found their loop hole.

Emilia deliberated for too long.

In situations like these, mere seconds can be too long.

It'd hardly be the first time she freezes when action is required. Before she can decide if she wants to cast a truth spell, Allison has already executed her own clever version of it. Much cleaner and inconspicuous.

Truth spells are forbidden for a reason: they hold severe consequences, and Emilia saw those consequences the one time she knowingly cast it. But the Necromancer doesn't seem aware of it, and his answer is as chilling as the manipulation itself. She wonders if this is how she looked to Wrath when she decided Francesco would give her answers, one way or another.

"We need to know how much blood," she offers, her voice low. Beyond that — and the obvious fact the Necromancers will need to remember none of this — she can't think of much else with all this brewing tension. She looks to Wrath to be sure.

Wrath's gaze narrows at the power Allison displays, straightening, watching - still on guard. She is not a witch. That was no spell. If Five can teleport, it makes sense his sister may have power of her own, but he certainly did not expect it to be this. The Necromancers obey without question, answering her.

It reminds him of a far more advanced, twisted version of the truth spell Emilia did to the man he had been interrogating. It reminds him of what he too can be capable of in a different way. They have their answers. Still his stomach twists at the obvious show of power that can control words and actions, and he grimaces.

Wrath can feel the weakness settle further through his body, deeper, and there's no time to ask more about the power, to insist it not be used against them. His sharp gaze lingers on Allison, and he moves to stand beside Emilia.

When she looks at him, he meets her gaze and then nods. That is all he needs to know.

The Necromancers answer with ease. They don't need to be rumored for this part. "Two vials of each."

"We'll get started, then. Thank you."

And she will, follow up with the appropriate rumor to make sure that the Necromancer doesn't remember that he was coerced, before gesturing for the rest of the group to head outside. They'll have to figure out where to get their respective ingredients, but there are options in a city like this.

She waits until they're out of earshot of the shop, before turning back to the rest of the party.

"If we do get someone else's blood, we shouldn't tell them who's it is. Let them think it's yours."

They don't have to talk about her power right now, right? Right.

Right. Five pipes up before they can think about any subject that's currently irrelevant to the situation.

"Funny how quickly they came up with the cure." He was thinking it before, he's just going to say it now. You know, when they aren't next to the necromancers who Allison could easily get to support or deny his theories. The comment may have been pointed, but he doesn't say anything about her plan to trick them into thinking it's Wrath's blood. They owe them so much for finding that out.

"Okay." Five sighs while he adjusts his tunic and looks around them, considering where they are and how quickly they can find a couple of victims. Donors. It's not like he didn't expect this is where they'd end up when they decided to go this route. "Someone drenched in death. Anyone have a preference?"

Wrath's shoulders tighten. He takes a moment to be certain they are alone, listening for any sound at all- any heartbeat beyond the four here out in the alley. Still he keeps his voice low.

"I know of someone. Donte Romano. He is well known for being a man who frequently has blood on his hand and makes a great deal of money off of it."

Wrath has been invited to quite a great deal of parties especially with the name he has been making for himself. These are the types of parties he refuses to go to, but it does mean he knows where he is located at.

"He has a large house on the opposite side of the district. I'll be the one to kill him."

Wrath is aware of how much he already owes the Hargreeves siblings, and he would like to not add anything further to that cost. If there is someone whose blood must be spilled tonight to give him the cure he needs, he will do it himself.

The knot in Emilia's stomach tightens with unease. Of all the questionable things she's done as of late, murder hasn't been one of them. She did come close to killing Antonio, filled with violence and fury unlike she'd ever experienced. She decided not to in favor of answers, and now that she's here, she half-regrets that choice. That he breathes still is a grace he doesn't deserve.

It sounds like this Donte doesn't, either.

"For the living donor." Her voice is, to her fortune, steeled. Steady. "I know a man who was also poisoned. He seemed willing to do anything for a cure. I'll secure enough blood for two of them."

She can take care of that, so long as she remains vague about how much blood is actually needed.

All they'll need to focus on is this, then.

Edited 2021-09-07 02:15 (UTC)

Five doesn't say anything when Wrath not only picks someone, but volunteers to kill him. He barely had to think about it to come up with the name. Not that Five has objections, but someone usually does. Honestly, he's a little appreciative that they can be sensible about this. And it's a nice break, not having to be the murderer for once. Fine.

The other woman's suggestion is actually more surprising, and he turns to her. Someone poisoned and desperate. That could cover several people he knows. They aren't family, so he can't decide how he feels about one of them giving blood. She obviously doesn't seem to mind the idea of sacrifices being made for someone more important to her.

"Who is he?" He's half-expecting Allison to have some opinions, but she wanted to get involved. He gives her a look anyway, in case she's about to suggest he teleport them around all night, which he's absolutely not excited about. It's her call if they're seeing this through.

"His name is Agnesio. Allison is familiar."

Political matchmaker that she is here.

Emilia notices the look Five sends his sister's way. The question, innocuous though it seems on the surface, makes her stomach clench a bit more. She tells herself it's the best option out of the bleak ones available. Already poisoned and looking for a cure, Agnesio will not be kept in the dark about the potential costs. He can make a choice, and... yes, she'll be taking a bit more blood than needed.

It's shady.

But her own blood would not take if she were to offer it. The Necromancers specified they need living human blood, and she is not human. But she's not about to give that information away so easily.

"I am. He's a good choice."

He'll be desperate enough to survive and might misread Emilia being willing to help him as genuine affection, but they can deal with that later. Agnesio is just a smidge self-centered, but nothing they can't handle.

She will look to her brother because while she's all in favor of Wrath doing his own killing, she doesn't want him to go alone.

"You should take Five with you. Just in case."

Wrath takes in a breath. He has little doubt Emilia and Allison can take care of the suitor. The suitor may read more into Emilia's feelings, and he will not like seeing that particular fire blossom- He has no doubts Emilia can handle it, and if the man is less than polite with his advances, well-

A problem for another time.

His gaze flicks from Allison to Five then briefly. He has already been made aware of how much he owes them both, and a demon prince of hell is well aware of bargains and debts.

"It is your choice. If you would prefer to go with your sister to keep her safe as was your original aim, you can make that choice, but I will be in your debt no further."

He won't owe Five any more if Five chooses to go with.

Oh. They're splitting up. Some complicated emotions pass over his face before he quickly swallows them down. Of course he's here to keep his sister safe, so the call should be easy. If he were more confident in Wrath's assassination skills while he's still poisoned, he might have left him to it. But he's not and it's pretty clear that Allison is going to see it through to the end with Emilia, so it's really not as much of a choice as he's presenting.

The comment about debt makes him frown again, but eventually he looks between the three of them and sighs.

"Fine. I'll get you there." Or at least an approximation based on that vague location. He's low on energy, but he can still manage a couple of jumps. The sooner they get the blood, the sooner they can be done with this. He nods to Allison. "We meet back in an hour."

Emilia watches Allison nod back to Five in clear understanding. An understanding that is familiar to her, and would be to anyone that has(had) a sibling and shares(shared) a language all their own. A language others can't speak.

Her own gaze helplessly snags on Wrath. Her heart pounds too fast, almost painful. This won't be the last time they see each other, they've made sure of that, but her throat fills with things she means to say and simply can't.

She's discovered what she is truly capable of. The darker and furious parts of herself. Both in the name the people she loves and her mission. And yet she is relieved they'll be splitting up and she won't be present when Wrath...

It feels so craven of her. "Within the hour," she promises, averting her gaze at last.

Edited 2021-09-15 00:41 (UTC)

Wrath is already looking at Emilia when her gaze moves to him. He sees so much written in her eyes, feels her emotions - in sharp waves that make his chest ache, because its hers. This moment hangs heavy between them, and he does not say anything, but does imperceptibly slip his fingers up against her neck (in the place where his symbol of protection still lies) in quiet reassurance.

She always has the right to choose, and she does not have to come with. It doesn't take away from her strength. He nods as if in confirmation: he will see her in an hour.

Then he moves from her side toward Five who surprised him with his decision to join him. He stalks through the darkness with the body language of the predator that he is, not allowing himself to look back. As they get closer to the house in question, he finally speaks again.

"If you can teleport me into the room he is at, it will avoid unnecessary bloodshed." He's certain the man has guards.

If Five second guessed himself the moment they started to walk away, he doesn't let it show. Considering they're on a mission to murder someone, it's probably better this way. Allison can handle herself, and he's got a few reasons for keeping Wrath in his sights.

The poison is powerful enough that he asked for help, but he hasn't seen him display the weakness he says he feels. He even opts to walk there instead of teleporting, up until they get near.

He turns to him and seems surprised at his reasoning. It's true, it'll be easiest to get the job done if he bypasses any security, but he didn't expect bloodshed to be a concern when that's the entire point.

While he could question him and maybe learn a few things, they're on a deadline and he'd really like to get this murder out of the way. He looks to the house ahead, trying to spot any figures moving behind the windows. Five's ego whispers to him all the ways he could do this more efficiently on his own, and it contradicts any earlier feeling of relief that he didn't have to this time. At no point did he come because he wants to be a part of this.

"Which one is it?" Assuming he already knows exactly where this man spends his time. He'd ask how he's familiar with him, but maybe that's a question for after he's dead.

Wrath appreciates the quiet on the way. He needs to focus his senses better, and he finds that is getting difficult with the fatigue crawling its way through his bones. Is this really something mortals experience often when they are sick? What a frustrating affliction. He pauses in front of the house, staring ahead. He does not know where the man spends the most time, but he can make several guesses along with the use of those senses.

An office would be most secure on the top floor toward the inside of the house. There are lights on through the curtains, the sound of footsteps against floorboard - the sound of weapons scraping.

"One moment."

He lifts a hand and then hones in on the sound of a singular heartbeat - pages turning.

"Toward the back, top floor."

In his Commission days, Five would enjoy the setup. He had to be invisible to minimize any unintended disruptions in the timeline, and it took some very calculated planning to pull it off perfectly. His powers gave him an extra advantage, but it was his mind that made him so dangerous. — The second he finds himself feeling nostalgic he snaps his attention right back to Wrath and notices what he's doing. He thought he might be able to sense who he's looking for, so it's just another confirmation. Convenient that the poison hasn't drained that ability from him.

He nods, but still says nothing. He pays attention to the shadows, trying to determine where they were most unlikely to be interrupted. There's only a few moments to calculate, then without asking if he's ready, Five grabs the demon's arm and teleports them to the location he indicated.

They appear again in a dimly lit room, briefly illuminated with the ripple of his power. With luck, one room over from their victim. He looks to Wrath one more time as he straightens his clothes, still prepared if he starts showing more symptoms. But he seems well enough, so he doesn't make any offers. This shouldn't take long.

feast and make merry

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