let's set d o w n some (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
groundrules) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
westwhere2021-08-20 07:55 pm
groundrules) wrote in westwhere2021-08-20 07:55 pm
feast and make merry
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
■ 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 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
■ 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.
■ 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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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."
no subject
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.
no subject
He lifts the dagger from its sheath, and then moves with unnatural speed into the hallway through the door at the end. The man has little chance, little warning before Wrath is inside of the room itself.
His death will be swifter than that of his victims no doubt. Wrath has heard stories of exactly what he gets up to- of how the blood gets on his hand, of how much he enjoys the blood in his hands. As a predator, he understands this to a certain extent- the blood, the violence, the kill. The man hardly has a chance to react before Wrath buries his dagger directly into his heart, twisting once.
No words. The terrified eyes of the man, the shadows spreading across the ceiling above Wrath's head as he lets himself feel his own anger at everything he knows of the man.
On the desk in front of the man, there's a book, revealing his trade in indentured servants, weapons line the office walls. Wrath pulls the vials from his pocket - hand shaking as he goes to fill it, attempting to ignore the shaking of his hand, but it is difficult to get the blood this way.
no subject
Ever pragmatic, he walks the length of the room and takes a sweeping glance around, noting the weapons on display that might be worth carrying back with them. Near the desk, he can deduce what the man had been in the middle of. He doesn't need to see the trade books to justify his murder, but it does clue him in on why Wrath would target the man specifically.
When he turns, expecting him to already be done, he's surprised to see Wrath fumbling with the vials. Was it the kill that rattled him or the poison? Either way, he can only tolerate watching for a few seconds before he impatiently holds out his hand.
"That's your cure. Let's try not to spill it," he comments flatly with a brief irritated smile. Maybe it was a good thing he came along after all.
no subject
To anyone.
At least he has some clearer idea of how Five must have felt with his own vulnerability on display for Wrath to see.
He has one vial filled, but he needs the other, and he is not so proud to hold the vial to himself either. It is not a sin he wishes to cling to at present. He thrusts the other vial into Five's hand, and then takes a step back, breathing in through the feeling of the poison. His hands rest on the desk, and his muscles are tense.
All the while he listens for them to be discovered, but they both move quietly enough none of the guards below have been alerted. They laugh, and they drink, and they check the doors and windows.
no subject
Not that it really matters. They'll be gone in another minute.
Once it's sealed, he regards the demon breathing hard and leaning on the desk. That must have taken a lot out of him. Again he wonders what the hell is in that poison, or if there's some kind of magic component to it that he doesn't understand. Earlier he doubted it would actually kill Wrath, and that of all the people his sister could have chosen to help, they'd picked one who didn't need it. But he's been wrong before.
They're quiet enough that even he can pick up on the distant sounds of talking and laughter downstairs. Before they leave, he decides he has time to get a better look at those weapons he saw hanging nearby. Teleporting with them will take more energy, but it seems practical to at least pick up a couple of lightweight blades.
He's careful about the noise he makes as he pulls them down, and when he returns he pockets the vial he filed and reaches his hand out for the other. It's best that he holds onto them. They're not going through this again.
no subject
By the time Five has selected the weapons, he manages to straighten again, noting the sharpness of the blades, nodding at the sight. They are well crafted, and they should be used by someone who was not involved at all with the man now lying dead in his chair in front of his desk. They now have all four of the vials they need (
the narration forgot they needed four, but just handwaving that they would not forget and would get four).He holds out the vial to Five with a barely restrained sigh. There is no need to speak about it for him to understand why it is better that Five is the one to hold on to all the vials.
His shoulders straighten again, and his expression is set into determination as he contains his frustration. He is ready when Five is.
no subject
He takes Wrath's arm and pulls at his powers and they disappear in another ripple of light. Ironically, when they land outside he nearly stumbles and holds onto the demon just a little while longer than necessary, for balance. The added weight is just enough to throw him. But aside from a few deep breaths, he recovers easily. It's a shame those desserts were poisoned, he could have really used the easy calories right about now.
"We should make it back in plenty of time," he huffs out, covering for any slip. He turns to look at Wrath, and the house behind them, curious now that they can speak freely. "Is that a code for you or something? You only kill the ones you think deserve it?"
no subject
The question gives him genuine pause as he thinks of his answer. He means to be truthful as he often is, but that takes thinking. Mortals tend to live by archaic notions of good and evil, and he is neither. He simply is.
He is a General of War, a Prince of Hell, and he would not want anyone to confuse him with someone who was noble.
"I try not to kill without reason."
no subject
They're a few steps down the street when he hears shouting behind them. He thought they'd be long gone by the time the guards thought to look in on their boss. He almost wants to give them some credit that they were only a few minutes late.
"I guess someone went to check on him."
no subject
"So it would seem."
And both Wrath and Five are ready for the fight.
--
Their return to the shop is delayed, and they are covered in a bit of blood, clothing a bit more scuffed than before. Wrath has seen Five's own skill at killing (his own bloodlust a familiarity to Wrath, something they have in common). He is clearly efficient at it, and they made short work of the guards, especially given Five did not have the energy to teleport back. There was little choice, and he has no regrets nor guilt about the bodies they have left behind, and the blood on his hands.
The poison is increasing its hold. He feels it with every step he takes. He only hopes Emilia and Allison have made it back already or are on their way. When they reach the shop, he presses his back against the wall near the door while still managing to stand tall against it as if he does not need the wall at all to keep him up.
He radiates ancient power despite weakness - gold eyes sharp, shadows drifting out from around him against the wall, spreading away from him like tendrils over the brick.
no subject
It took some maneuvering to work their way through and reach Agnesio. Allison's cunning with these people was absolutely vital, Emilia too worried in her urgency to be as effective as she'd like to be. Acting doesn't come naturally to her.
You must give her lessons later, Allison.
They walk as quickly as they can without giving way to suspicion, though Emilia slows down once she catches sight of Wrath and Five, the blood that coats their suits. A quick assessment tells her this blood is not theirs and they're both in one piece, but the worry lingers. Wrath looks far weaker than he did when they split up, and it's the strangest sight. It feels wrong.
"Did you get it?" she manages to ask, clutching a vial of blood from their own end.
no subject
That being said, she doesn't seem all that bothered by the blood. Instead, she waits for them to confirm that they have what they need, so they can get this business with the necromancers over with. After all, Agnesio wasn't doing much better than Wrath is.
In fact, he might be worse, being human and all.
no subject
He would have liked to clean more of the blood off before they went walking the streets, but it's dark enough to miss. It might even sell the story to the necromancers that some of the blood is Wrath's. Thankfully Allison and Emilia seem to be finished around the same time. Somehow a plan can come together so easily when it's not about preventing doomsday.
At Emilia's question, he nods but doesn't make any overt gesture to where he has the vials. He won't make that handoff until they're inside.
"No problem." He looks between them, but when he glances back at Wrath he sees the shadows and narrows his eyes briefly before slowly turning back. "Come on. You can swap stories later."
no subject
And he certainly will not allow the Necromancers to see him like this.
He nods at Five's statement. "They will be waiting, and it will likely take them some time to brew the potion."
He pushes himself away from the wall with effort he wishes he could hide entirely. His jaw locks, and he straightens his shoulders once more. The shadows still spread out from him and underneath his feet as he steps away from the wall. Wrath walks toward the door and then opens it, stepping inside.
The Necromancers wait at the bottom, looking up with all the eagerness in their body language- the hunger for the blood they've brought. "Well, have you got the vials we need?"
Wrath nods, gritting his teeth, before he speaks somehow managing a calm but carefully controlled voice. "We have extra vials which I am certain will more than please you. Two cures."