[ CLOSED ]

[blackscales]

WHO: Wrathion & Emilia, Wrathion & Daenerys, Wrathion & Sansa/Alayne, probably some other combos as I write up starters.
WHEN: End of the Huntress event and during the recovery.
WHERE: Palace of the Doxe, Merchant Square
WHAT: Wrathion is settling into his role of 'legal pioneer, diplomat and master orator'
WARNINGS: None at the offset.





[ Grab me on the CR meme for a custom prompt. ]

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[valeas]

Emilia grows quiet as she does the math. She'd been confident in both her ambitions and Wrath's. She'd believed they would be back in the Seven Circles by now. Believed she would be on her way to burning a House of Sin or two to ash.

And yet.

"It's been four months on my end."

Her answer will not be comforting, but she would rather speak true where she can afford it. Emilia awoke in the salt mines of Sa-Hareth, surrounded piles of bones. She was able to escape the undead that lingered there, but. They're everywhere.

[blackscales]

Four months is, indeed, not a comfort. Wrathion's eyes narrow a little at that, reconsidering his own options.

Four months.

"Were the beacons here your first offer as a way home?"

Did they spend four months building up to being here, getting access? Or was there another option before which failed? Just so he can gauge how much weight to give the possibility, how much the Merchant might be stringing them along with promises of options which simply come to nothing.

[valeas]

"They were, though I know of others who've been with the Merchant for longer."

In truth, Emilia's wondered what it would take for them all to be self-sufficient enough to need not rely on the Merchant. She does not want to be an unwitting pawn in a bloody game of chess she did not consent to play. She was not made to be a pawn at all. "Don Bonaccorso, however, refuses to activate the beacon in Taravast."

And he is the only one with the means to do so. Emilia has her suspicions, wonders if his own life hinges on it, but nothing concrete, so she speaks nothing of it. She keeps those cards close until she can investigate further.

[blackscales]

Longer than four months.

"That much I knew," he answers finally. "I was sold on assisting in this political game on that premise. To access the beacon we must sway the vote."

Supposedly. He arches an eyebrow, slides his eyes back over their surroundings.

"Though I do wonder if there are other reasons."

It seems a little too selfless for his liking. The Merchant surely benefits in some way, it's simply a matter of working out what his gain is.

[valeas]

"We must always operate under the assumption there are."

It sounds a bit cynical, even to her own ears. Even to the inborn and quieter skeptic she used to be, before rage found a home in her. Emilia still believes in measured trust — and that it must be earned. Believing without question is as foolhardy as choosing to believe in nothing at all. That the Merchant is a mysterious and unseen presence, more often than not, doesn't help matters any.

She looks over at Wrathion's arm once more.

"Well?"

Will he come with her?

[blackscales]

He considers, for a moment, resisting. Considers refusing her help -- but she has given him no reason. Her words could be false, but for the moment he can see no gain in that. Can picture no path where her encouragement of his suspicion and offer of healing would benefit. She would have to know of the merchant to get this far, or perhaps the Beastmaster. Would he have allies in the city? If it truly is a trap, surely he would be lured outside -- not further in? Or... lured somewhere he could be subdued.

Still.

Eventually, he has to trust someone.

"Lead the way," he says finally. If his arm can be healed it would be worth the risk.