Page 1 of 2
[Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2021 2:48 pm
by Arkash
86th of Ash, 4621
It seemed his efforts were paying off at last. Arkash had been given the opportunity to watch the necrodoctor Raphael at work. Granted, he was just there to clean up some mess while the Veir operated, but it was still very much worth his time. Just seeing the tools in action, what they did, and how they applied to the craft was immeasurably valuable to the rath, who had little to no knowledge of Necromancy, to begin with.
While he did take his assigned task seriously, he also took the time to spy on the Veir while he worked. Whenever the mage's focus was off of him, he caught a glimpse of what the Entente was working on.
A mage had been injured in the last clash with one of those Archetypes, and the Veir was tasked with putting them back together again. The injuries were particularly gruesome, which meant that Arkash was afforded the opportunity to see a lot in action... that was between mopping up the puddles of wasted blood across the floor. It almost saddened him to put so much food to waste, but he supposed it was just as well. Eating fresh was always a priority for him, at least when humans were on the menu.
The necromancer drew some sort of mortar and pestle from his kit and added a scrap of meat to the bowl before he quickly ground the substance into a paste. Arkash watched with confusion before the doctor scraped the milky-white goop into the tube of some sort of gun. Immediately, the rathor got to mopping the cobbled floor of the dungeon laboratory once more. As he wrung out the head of his tool, he watched the doctor apply the paste through some sort of squeeze mechanism that reminded him of the icing on a certain baker's cakes some lifetime ago.
Arkash smiled a little while he recalled that bakery. What was his boss's name? He could scarcely remember. Was it Barry?
When he woke from his thoughts, he found that the paste that Raphael had squeezed onto the wound was gone. In its place was a layer of fresh flesh. The disguised rathor blinked. How was that possible? What happened? Why did he space out at that exact moment? "Shouldn't you be working, Derek?" Asked the master with something of a sneer to his tone.
Arkash blinked, inhaled through his nose, then looked to the blood that still coated the cobbled floor. "Ah- Yes, Master. Sorry Master," he spoke with a curl to his features. He still hated addressing the pig nobles like they were superior to him by birthright alone. But if he was to retain his place in the fortress, he had to play the game. When he was done, though, everything would come undone.
He began to mop up again, and the necrodoctor got back to work. Arkash noticed that the fresh flesh was uneven, even lumpy in parts. how was that supposed to be appealing? That was when the necromancer produced a small tool with a hooked tip and began to shave off excess skin like the stroke of a brush. It was a very careful process, and Arkash took the time to watch just as carefully. He pretended to work, of course, but that wasn't enough to fool his perceptive lord. "Interested in Necromancy, are you?" The Veir challenged him again.
Arkash's entire chest tensed at his mistake, and he finished wringing out the mop before he soaked it once more, and pressed the head to the floor. "No, Master," he lied.
"Does it remind you of artificing?" The noble asked as he finished adjusting some finer details, then straightened up and turned to half-face the fake rien. "You know, from your days building Hollows?"
Arkash pursed his lips. that was right, he'd told the lord that he was a lustrian, and he made his fortune as a production line worker in Nivenhain. "Uh, yes..." He returned, obviously uncertain. Arkash couldn't shake the feeling that this was a deliberate setup. Why had the necromancer asked for him specifically to clean the lab - while he was working? He hadn't realized it when he allowed himself to be enslaved, but Raphael wasn't another run-of-the-mill target. The noble picked him apart from a distance, one conversation at a time.
"Fascinating," the slightly older male returned with a knowing smile, then put down his tool before he collected some labeled jar from the shelf across the room.
Arkash began to wonder just how many people would immediately realize if something happened in this room. They were underground, after all. A fortress on the riverside atop them. Several meters of earth trapped all sound where they were; it was an ideal torture chamber. Maybe that was the room's intended purpose before the Lord arrived, and they repurposed it for his necromantic exploits? Arkash could only wonder. "...Are you expecting any visitors, Master?"
"No," the other male returned, then looked over his shoulder to smile at the disguised rathor. "I've asked not to be disturbed, in fact," the man explained before he resumed sorting through the various jars. "You said you were from Nivenhain, correct?" The casual line of questioning resumed.
Arkash was bound to answer, too. He was a slave, and he didn't have a reason to ignore such simple questions. To do so would seem suspicious and would give the noble cause to press even harder questions. What game was the doctor playing? Arkash couldn't tell, but he knew something was off. "...Yes, Master."
"And?" The doctor quizzed once more. "Come on, you must have more to say about the world's greatest city. They sing about Nivenhain across the world, you know."
Arkash curled his features as he became increasingly frustrated and untrusting of his company. The safe was open, did he cut his losses and take what was there? How would he escape in broad daylight? Then again, the man had asked not to be disturbed... Would anyone hear his scream?
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2021 12:24 am
by Caladrin
The Magical Institute of Nardothis.
The perfect time in Caladrin's life, yet he did not feel great about it, having already doing a single term of his studies on the theory of his mark of control, there was no indication of practice, for fear that the newly appointed members of the institute would suffer grave consequences. It was normal for mages to be cautious. Ether is a powerful corruptive source that can have an effect upon the human psyche as well as the body. Of course, that was the first lesson to the young Entente mage.
His second lesson?
Discipline.
The crucial thing in Caladrin's modus operandi, one which lessons of which he would learn. However, he questioned the competence of his recent apprenticeship with Raphael that he had required. When he wrote letters to his parents, his mother was furious. Alevea and Raphael did not see eye to eye when working together, infact she had cussed upon him several times for making mistakes several mistakes, almost botching a number of necromantic surgeries and wasting time. A could do better as she would call it. However, there wasn't anyone in the area who he could better learn from, other than the necrodoctors in Nardothis.
However, Nardothis was not gonna teach him everything entirely, he needed hands on experience, a chance of apprenticeship. On his first day he was requested to meet with Raphael at the hospital. To his disdain, his mother had bred a complete dislike to him. She had told him about his depraved ways and his association with necromancers who experiment on people. However, he was the only option. He stepped into the hospital and took a moment to examine the site. It appeared everything was in order; the mages were recovering from their necro-surgical procedures as he made his way towards Raphael's operation room.
He took a step in and watched for a moment; his eyes traced amongst the slave boy, but there was not a spot of arrogance that came upon him as he acknowledged him with a nod. He took out a deep breath and made his presence known amongst the human male necromancer that was finishing a surgical procedure "Want me to come back later or is there something you need?" He asked. His voice was smooth, glass cut, every word was clear and crisp as he stood at the door for a moment, waiting for an answer as he inspected the room.
The smell of decay already penetrated his nose as if there was a rotting corpse settling in for putrefaction. He twinged his nose. If he were going to be an aspiring necromancer, he would have to get use to the smell, for once a necromancer who practices more tends to lose the idea that the smell of putrefaction generally dies out. He sighed as he stepped forth for a moment in a bold manner "I'm heading back to Amoren tomorrow to see my family, I'll be returning in due course, although if there are any services you need I may offer it... For a price of course." He smirked, staring back at the slave boy. There was a sense of trouble in his eyes as he crossed his arms and inspected the mage he was fixing.
The wounds he was fixing up lead him to believe that the mage was a warmonger of some kind, fighting against various Hyr'Norai. He had known this was a disagreement caused by religion. Ulen and the Elven Gods didn't exactly see eye to eye in the first place, as it was Daravin that bred radical ideas into peoples heads.
For Caladrin, he remained neutral and complied with the religion, for his own sake and benefit.
Created by Moop!
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2021 2:50 am
by Arkash
Tension only continued to rise as Arkas took longer to answer the simple question. His trained eyes watched the mage's movements, watching for any sort of slip or tell that might indicate that the necrodoctor was paying more attention than he was trying to display. "...I'm not fond of it," he admit at last.
The mage paused then, and seemed to smile with his next word but didn't turn to face the rathor at all "really?" Arkash could hear that grin in his tone. He didn't know why, but it put him on edge. "Hm," the mage spoke aloud as he shelved the jar. "...I wonder why, it's not as if you lived in that slum, is it? What was it called... Lower Nivenhain?"
Arkash's knuckles turned white with the force at which he gripped the mop's handle. That was way too close; how could the man possibly know he had been nameless? Was there any way that the mage could have been investigating him? Tracing his history? Arkash didn't like that. If a trained eye looked too closely at Derek Egon, his identity would fall apart. His efforts would be for nothing. Raphael had sealed his fate, he had to die. Luckily, they were surrounded by puddles of blood. It would be child's play to destroy his master...
That was until another heartbeat sounded down the hall, and Arkash realized they were being joined. Saved by the bell? By the presence of another, was more like it. Arkash paused, then looked to the doorway as that same heartbeat slipped through into sight; a younger male stood in the doorway before they entered the lab. By his attire, Arkash could tell he was some man of importance, his smell told even more.
Arkash didn't hold eye contact too long and didn't return the man's nod. Instead, he returned his eyes to the floor and began to mop up more of the mess, but made sure to leave enough to murder the Veir in his long strokes.
"Ah, Caladrin" the mage broke his grin as he turned to the druid. Raphael's eyes glanced back to the slave knowingly, then returned to the apprentice while he took a moment to let the offer to 'come back another time' be heard. "No, I think you got here just in time," Raphael spoke with that same grin in his tone.
Arkash looked up from his mopping discreetly. Was his murderous intent really that obvious? Would he be able to take Raphael on if the necrodoctor knew it was coming? Maybe not. the nobility of Daravin were all mages of some strength. He wasn't sure if he could hold a candle to whatever magics Raphael possessed. He resumed his mopping, and took the time to mop up however much he'd left to kill Raphael with; resigning his plan to kill the noble.
A nod of Raphael's head followed such resignation, and he breathed out sharply through his nose. "Back to Amoren? Ah, just as well..." he spoke pleasantly. "No doubt your mother will be cursing my name even more if I don't get these eyes to her," he spoke as he presented a small liter jar, filled with some clear, pale yellow fluid. suspended in the liquid were a few blue eyes. "Color B7, uncommon as I'm sure you're unaware."
Arkash didn't pause in his duties, but he did recognize the terminology. The necrodoctor Taelian had introduced him to some year ago referenced his eye color with a word and a number. His true form's eyes were called 'Why 11' or something, and those eyes were 'Bee 7' he wasn't sure what 'Why's and 'Bee's had to do with each other, but he didn't pay much more attention to the eyes other than the naming convention for the color.
"You see, my usual courier seems to have disappeared. I have the Halamire looking for him, but they have yet to find a trace or clue as to where he might have gone. Curious timing, hm?" It was with clear annoyance that the Veir explained his situation, though not directed at anyone in the room. Arkash couldn't help but grin while he face the ground he was mopping; the courier he searched for had been his last meal. "...Lots of people deserting around here, lately," he added, then cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm entrusting this parcel to your care, as well as Derek here, my slave. He's been stuck in the fortress for a while, doesn't like small places much. And from what I hear, he's more than capable of assuring your safety on your journey home." The Veir smiled, then presented the jar of suspended yes.
Arkash looked up from his task with a furrow to his brow. What? He was leaving? The noble continued to flaunt and tease that he knew so much more about Derek Egon than Arkash had ever wanted. How could he know he was capable in combat? The name Derek Egon was only associated with Lorien, slavery, and artificing in these parts. He'd never once called him a fighter or done anything that might lead others to believe that he was actually very good at hurting people. Raphael had some source, some sort of network that extended as far as Lorien. It was the only explanation. "I'm leaving, Master?" he asked, unsure.
Raphael scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, slave. This is valuable cargo; I need someone competent to make sure it gets to where it needs to go," he openly insulted the other Veir with a shake of his head, then sighed exasperatedly as if he'd not said anything wrong. "Honestly, can you believe servitude these days?" He asked his apprentice with a cruel smile.
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2021 10:26 am
by Caladrin
Caladrin's raised a brow in intrigue as he looked over at the slave boy, before letting out a deeply frustrated sigh. It wasn't meant at him, more by the fact that the relationship between Raphael and Caladrin had always been tense. Their families were biting back at each other like an unkindness of ravens, fighting over remaining scraps of carrion. He could see the slave boy was frustrated by his work "Oh dear, yet you were already full of nasty surprises." He said with a smile as he blinked twice; it was with such innocence that it appeared that he was being honest about his work, the fact is he was pointing to something much deeper than that.
He noticed the annoyance flow within the slave boy. The whiteness of his knuckles, brought on the idea that the boy would gladly bludgeon the pretentious Veir to death. As much as Caladrin thought what a delight that would have been, he resumed listening to the Necrodoctor. He snorted, listening to him rant about his mother cursing him. It was no wonder, the man was even more sickening to look at in his deathly robes as well as in formal attire "As I recall, I'm not the one with literal skeletons hanging in my closet am I?" He uttered with confidence and yet some form of arrogance; it was the exchange between teacher and student, yet far more strained than usual. The tension was obvious between the two Veir; they had opposing views and increasingly Caladrin's disdain for the man was prominent.
His elvish ears perked up slightly, he rolled his eyes and sighed. The same usual story would come out of his mouth about another missing person; although this time he kept his mouth shut, thinking to himself, I think I know you very well and your habits for hiding experiments. He hoped that he wasn't a mentalist or remnomancer that could enter the bowels of his mind. However, his eyes trailed along the slave boy with intrigue, he appeared to be smirking to himself. A sign of pleasure that he took from either killing him or that he was relieved from his previous treatment as most slaves would be. To be a slave in Daravin was to give up your rights and become the pigs, countlessly slaughtered for the Entente's own hedonistic pleasure. He listened to the Veir "I'm guessing you want me to do your dirty as per usual, although it is awfully kind of you to assure my safety..." He smiled, not that he cared much. He knew what a callous bastard he was deep inside.
His body and heart must have been all twisted and mangled as if he had practiced necromancy on his own feelings. It was all because of sciences favor, now he had no idea how to reach within the world of the broken mangled soul within him. He walked around the room listening until the real bombshell had been dropped. Caladrin's eyes widened, as if daggers was about to shoot out of them; it appeared that the other Veir had hit a nerve. To begin with questioning his competence was a great threat to him, although he did not let him wound his mental resolve. Instead, he sized him up and crossed his arms.
"Last time someone questioned my families' competence, they were blown up. It would be ashame if your customers walked in and there was a charred spot of your remains lying on the floor" He raised an eyebrow "However, I will step down... Maybe you are right and I am incompetent, we shall see about that..." He smiled, laughing before pulling a serious face "Come on!" He demanded as if he was angered by the man's sudden abrasive attitude. For a moment, he glanced back "Oh and... One more thing, whilst your slave boy is not here... Do try and keep your lab a little bit more cleaner" He smiled. As he left, he noticed a herd of ravens from the tree as he shook his head "I can tell, that scumbag probably littered his corpse somewhere" He turned to the slave boy as he sighed "Would've probably turned you into one of his experiments knowing him" He sighed.
Since he wasn't in public of anyone, he figured he would've shown a little kindness to the slave boy. He didn't agree with most of the values, ethos and virtues that were bestowed upon people in Daravinic society. The fact that people would take sadistic pleasure in torturing and using non-magic folk as tools of their political games. He simply remained neutral in all acts, except ones that delved into his self interests.
"Come along, theres much to do, the sooner we get out of this the better, and maybe... I may acquire the spoils... You know the phrase don't you?" He pondered to the other man "An eye for an eye" He smirked as he laughed "I'm only teasing, why would I keep a slave... I might be a mage of privilege, but frankly I don't give two shits about my status, it means nothing"
"You can have all the power in the world, but does is always cure self loathing, political plots and schemes? I think you should see that for yourself in the history books"
Created by Moop!
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Tue Nov 09, 2021 2:18 am
by Arkash
Even if they were a symptom of the disease that was society, he couldn't deny that they were somewhat amusing. These nobles, bickering like children on the street as if their words carried any sort of weight at all. He watched the offset of pride in one, caused by the arrogance of another, and couldn't help but smirk at the resulting fireworks. It was strange, but the more time he spent around nobility, the more he recognized them for the people they were, rather than the prevailing oppressors of free will.
Was he right to anthropomorphize those monsters, even if it was just in passing amusement? It weighed in his chest while he considered that. They weren't like people, they were eating machines, living off the suffering of a world to fuel their excessively lavish lifestyles. They were the reapers, set atop a crop of peasants. Arkash knew no other truth, and comparing them as any sort of people was surprisingly shocking to him.
By the way the two exchanged, he could guess that this Caladrin man was also some sort of noble? Maybe not quite as important as a Veir, but still. Ark was unaware that the Veir was the equivalent of Daravin's Lord; unlanded nobles who had yet to make their own titles. All he had to base his assumptions off was right there before him, he was aware he could be wrong. Time would tell, he supposed, as he was due to travel with this Caladrin for some time, it seemed.
Dutifully, he collected the cargo of eyes, and set it in one of his master's leather backpacks with some straw for padding. Safely packed away, he adorned the straps, then returned to his pale after collecting a pre-written writ that allowed him to travel. He raised his hand for Raphael to see what he'd collected as a wordless ask of permission.
With a sigh, he nodded and set the mop in its bucket before wringing it out. He pretended not to listen while the two continued their bickering, then collected the pale by the handle and walked to the door. He had to put the equipment away before they left. He had no belongings to speak of, so he didn't need time to run to his pen to grab anything, just stop at the storage closet on their way out. When at last the two overgrown children were done, Arkash bowed his head to his grinning Master. "Thank you, Master," he spoke his gratitude for his reprieve, though there was no joy to speak of in his tone.
His mind still heavily clung to the implications of what the noble knew, things couldn't be so easy. He supposed that he'd have to kill the man when he returned, maybe in his sleep? "Take care, Derek," the man spoke in turn, chipper as ever.
With that, the rath took his leave, and lugged the heavy pale to the nearest drain before he poured the blood-mixed water out, then returned the equipment to the nearest closet before they began to make their way out of the military fortress that guarded the river. There was the checkout gate, which was guarded by the Halamire, and the docks were some distance after that. He presented his writ as the guards stopped him, and was allowed to leave. He supposed he'd best keep the paper handy; he'd need it to go anywhere, dressed as he was.
Caladrin was apparently still heated from his encounter with the lord. Though Arkash found it amusing, he couldn't let that notion slip. If a peasant could attack and kill him on the street without repercussion, he only wondered what a Noble could do to him without any sort of penalty. The law didn't favor him, it never had.
"Please don't take it personally, Ser," he spoke, taking on the role of the downtrodden slave he tried to present himself as. "His Veirship is a hardy man, but he helps many of your military, and commoners alike." He felt like some sort of machine while he spoke, devoid of soul or personal thought. Rabe's beak, what was becoming of him? He'd not been a slave for even a month yet. The mentality of someone put under the boot seemed to quickly deteriorate, it seemed. The journey would be good for him, even if he was just acting like a piece of property in the end. A guard for the courier, as ordered by his lord and master.
Then Caladrin spoke something that seemed to raise his heart rate. Something about using his privilege for the better, a joke about taking Arkash as his own. He still needed to learn necromancy, that wouldn't do. He wasn't supposed to have an opinion, his time under the necrodoctor had taught him so. But the way Caladrin spoke lulled him into a false sense of security, it tugged on some buried part of his mind, some whisperings of rage and hate.
"Self-loathing, milord-?" he asked, then shook his head. "My Veir?" he corrected himself. He supposed he would find out if Caladrin was truly a lesser noble than a Veir or not. "What is there to loathe, your radiance?"
Arkash could name a few things, but such remained thinly concealed under a mask of curiosity and care for his better. "And if I may ask where we're going? I can have a boat at the docks ready for us quickly... Er, apologies." Arkash curled his features. "I don't mean to assume we're crossing the river, forgive me."
Did he overplay the downtrodden slave? Maybe, but it would be worth acting just to find out what sort of lord this Caladrin really was. He believed he could gauge the sort of man he traveled with by how the noble responded.
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Wed Nov 10, 2021 2:08 am
by Caladrin
As he left the Fortress, he took walked with the slave boy as he sighed knowing that he also had to go through security checks, it was the rules but they wasn't as thorough as the slave boy's. After all, he needed to check he wasn't some criminal mastermind getting into the fortress. To his displeasure, he would had rather protested against him "This young man is with me, I'm serving as Raphael's courtier for now" He did not use the word "slave" to define him; only that he thought he would bring him. However, he could feel a loathing presence shiver through his spine as he called himself his courtier. He smiled in a passive aggressive way towards the guards, blinking twice with such innocence; however, he looked like he was about to commit a dozen murders all at once. Caladrin knew how to play the game, for one Raphael was clearly more powerful than him, but two he had the presence of powerful mages amongst him. It wasn't like he could get away murder but he insisted on wanting to put the necrodoctor out of misery.
As he was free to go, he looked at the slave boy, laughing as pleasantries were made by titles, however milord struck him; he had never been anywhere in Lorien but he knew that was foreign, still Caladrin was through to break apart the social constructs of the Entente whilst in private places. He looked back as he was a distance away from the Halamire "Oh please, call me Caladrin or Cal if you will; I'm not fond of the pleasantries and political games that shroud this shattered, corrupted country" He pondered as he turned his gaze towards him. Immediately, he smirked moving as close as he could to the slave boy, backing him into a tree as he mentioned about him self loathing "Radiance?" He snorted "Your cute, funny too although in a way it is, I would have fowled my own nest if I mentioned any of this in public..."
He noticed the demeanor of the slave; somehow it was sweet and pleasant the way he dished out the compliment like that as if he was trying to curl his way around his psyche. However, Caladrin had more questions. It seemed the boy had been scared out of his life by Raphael as he looked upon him "Why are you sorry?" He raised an eyebrow with intrigue as he stared down at Arkash, his movement was serpentine, slow as if he was trying to analyse the mind of the boy; although, his past didnt interest him. He wanted to be free from the title of courtier, that way he didnt have to feel as if he was beholdened to Raphael, after all he wasnt. He was Veir and it appeared they were on equal terms, the only thing that made him relevant in society was his power "Did he batter you to a pulp at one point?" He asked, staring down amongst the slave boy with a hint of sympathy amongst him, he tilted his head as he smiled at his offer "I assume you know a route to Amoren from here? I usually try to avoid the badlands but sometimes for a shortcut it doesnt hurt, as long as there is no Wurms or ruffians to contend with" He shrugged.
He didn't seem phased about travelling through the desert, a little adventure didn't hurt now and then; especially since politics and living noble could be somewhat boring.
Daravinic society made it that way.
Created by Moop!
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Wed Nov 10, 2021 5:18 pm
by Arkash
The disguised rathor did catch that term, 'Young Man'. A noble had regarded him as a person, not an object or a piece of property? Was this another foreigner, and not a noble? Arkash's intuition was normally accurate, at least very close to the truth. How could he have been so far from the truth? When he saw Caladrin's eyes, however, Arkash recognized that Noble's glare. Some constrained rage, repressed and hidden from sight.
He couldn't help but wonder if his own gaze carried as much hunger and rage as the noble. He'd only recently discovered how it felt to have to repress his emotions, and hiding something as intense as the urge to break something was incredibly difficult. Did the nobility have to do that their entire lives to play their game of false power? Arkash was fierce whenever he let his inner monster out of its cage, he could only imagine what Caladrin's would look like if it slipped out.
Did he sympathize with the nobility a little more after seeing that look? No. If anything, it was more cause to abolish something as arbitrary as authority; men were not meant to rule men. Every encounter he'd had only strengthened that belief.
Despite the way the Lord addressed him, Arkash maintained the etiquette that was expected of his role. In a way, he supposed he also objectified the noble. They were a symbol of oppression, a lord that he had to address properly at all times, regardless of whether he wanted to or not... that was unless he was given permission. Caladrin laughed at his slip up, and it was difficult to feign embarrassment, but he believed his cheeks red enough to falsify his feelings.
The curious part of the order was that Caladrin had taken the time to add 'If you will' to the end of it. It wasn't an order at all, but an offer. He wasn't fond of being addressed so superiorly? Good. "Yes, my Veir," he spoke in blatant rebellion. Internally, Arkash thought himself a manic genius. He hoped the noble took the hint well. They were not friends, they were not on equal terms. Arkash could do nothing against Caladrin, not even defend himself if it came to it. The law prohibited his self-defense. So, he took every inch he could. He wouldn't hesitate to throw a noble's kindness back in their face if the chance was offered. And after all, he was still addressing Caladrin with respect, was he not?
That was to say that Arkash thought himself a genius... Right up until the noble moved in on him. His grin stifled, then turned to a frown. Instinct took his eyes and he reflexively stepped back, into a tree. He was cornered. His fight or flight response was constrained, as flight was no longer an option.
He'd not really noticed that he wasn't listening to what the noble said until the younger male was much too close. No one was allowed that close to him, he'd never let it happen before. Caladrin's presence alone made his heart beat faster, and his body grew tense. His head spun while his mind was forced into the role he'd been playing for the past month. The man before him could do whatever they wanted to him. Caladrin could brandish a knife and plunge it into his ribs as many times as he wanted, he could do worse and Arkash would be forbidden from fighting back, the Halamire would descend upon him, just as the hollows did when he bit that Savant so many seasons ago.
Arkash began to tremble. His eyes were wide and his teeth pressed tight behind his lips. What was wrong with him? Why was his breathing so irregular? He knew that feeling well, it was terror. He was in the exact same position that had cost him his arm, his eye, his home, and his father; under the press of some law-favored monster.
Caladrin's words fell on ringing ears, as Arkash's mind ran rampant with the urge to escape, the urge to hide... the urge to attack.
But it was different this time; Caladrin wasn't one that had beaten and branded him, he was younger than Arkash, weaker. When he stripped away those laws that bound him under the noble's foot, Celadrin was just a normal man, one that could bleed, one that could buckle to fear, one that could die. The Halamire couldn't protect Caladrin if Ark was to bite his tongue at that moment, so what was he afraid of? A mortal man of flesh? No. His widened eyes narrowed to furrow his brow when he composed himself.
It had been a while since Arkash had to cling to his resolve; he wouldn't be a victim again. To a thousand more, he would split their throats to save his own life. He wasn't about to be backed into a corner by food.
At once, both his hands shot out to grip the noble's attire around the collarbone, and he threw his weight forward like some sort of tensed coil off the trunk of the tree. He stepped forward and tried to maneuver his leg between Caladrin's gait, and placed his heel behind Caladrin's so that the man's support would be knocked out from under him if he followed through with the Rathor's momentum.
Arkash aimed to put the noble on his back, despite the blue blood's superior stature. Though the rath was merciful enough to break his fall before his head hit the floor, then eased them that last half-inch into the ground, where he pressed enough weight to hold him there, he believed. Arkash stared down the noble with fury in his eyes, successful in his grapple or not. "Next time, my Veir, I'll blind you."
The urge to go further was intense. He felt an unparalleled need to bring his fists down on the boy's face, to keep punching him until his mangled knuckles met the road behind two layers of Caladrin's shattered skull... But he didn't, despite the tension in his form that read what he wanted. He'd already done enough to get himself executed, and if Caladrin was to never return home, it would no doubt reach his master. If it reached that scheming rat, then there was no way he could conceal his identity, or learn necromancy by extension.
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Mon Nov 15, 2021 10:21 am
by Caladrin
The niceties were unusual for a noble; however, it was in question weither Caladrin truely fitted in the Entente regime. Despite his prestigious magical family, it appears that there was much more to the man. A deep kindness and acceptance of neutrality, although the only reason to engage in these politics was to survive. To thrive, to build upon his great family name that they had built upon himself. To him, it was a essence of false power, a right of bigotry, an inner evil that had been permeating at his core. To step on others, was to take power in the eyes of the Entente, but it wasn't in Caladrin's blood. He was far from it; although he had several times dabbled in his course, but it only meant one thing. His survival.
The rage that he felt as he left the fortress appeared to be one of primal nature. It was festering deep inside him I swear once I'm powerful, I will wrap him in vines and crush his soul until it bleeds into the roots of the world He thought. He had always dark thoughts, especially for people who he hated. However, he did not hate on slaves, he sympathised with them. They were the ones who made the Entente, they should be answering to them. In a way, it was exactly how the history books taught him. The Fall of Silor; those appeared to be connecting the puzzle pieces together and now magical superiority was the answer. Although, you can be a powerful mage but still have very little power in your circle. To be Veir was still to live a peasant's life, to be royalty was to feast upon the king's table.
Caladrin wanted one thing.
Everything.
For everything to stop was his goal in life, for him to finally understand who he was; who he was to be and more importantly who he was to become. Those were all questions lingering around in his head. Caladrin also had a dark monster inside of him, a metaphorical beast that understood the balance between law and chaos. He knew when to strike and when to sit back and watch. He simply ignored the expression of rebellion towards the slave boy as he did not care weither he called him Veir. He found it quite amusing that he would give him a power boost on a hierarchical level. However, he simply did not care.
Call me all you wish, gossip all you wish, I simply do not care He thought to himself.
When he was close up against the wall, he meant it as an endearing thing, but Arkash appeared to have taken it lightly. He did not realise that his expression was filled with terror as he shook before he could step back he was lunged at as his collar from his clothing was grabbed "What are you..." He could feel the momentum of force being pushed from under him. He shuddered with fear as he felt the force of him being dragged onto the floor, that was until his fall was broken by Arkash himself. He could feel the threatening voice from him, as if someone had done something to him in the past "Relax!" He shouted as he gulped before shouting in desperation "I did not mean to cause you such alarm, perhaps you'll unhand me then we can discuss something..."
He was scared that the slave boy would brandish a knife out on him next, Caladrin had not learnt the offensive parts of his magic yet, even if he could use them he had no components for it. He was hardly gonna find spawn for various harmful plants for starters. He knew himself that some grew in very humid environments as well as subterranean caverns. If you were gonna find the most harmful plants, you'd find them there. Beneath the darkness and the chaos.
Created by Moop!
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Tue Nov 16, 2021 2:40 am
by Arkash
Personal space was very important to Arkash, especially when the violator of said personal space was nobility. He took the time to make that known to his temporary Master, even if he took the time to make sure that the younger man wasn't hurt by the sudden drop. After all, head injuries quickly became excessively damaging with little force involved. Just one bump in the wrong spot with enough force could lead to lasting damage, like the inability to swallow properly, or constant twitching. He knew such damage well.
The younger male cried out for him to relax, just after he'd already asserted his need for space. The man's ask of mercy seemed to strike recognition in his eyes, and the slave's brow softened. He'd attacked Caladrin, he realized. He hadn't even thought about it, his arms and legs moved as though they had a will of their own. Even so, he couldn't show weakness. He had the noble on the ropes, if he was to apologize, it would make him look weak. So, he didn't.
Arkash pressed hard into his feet and straightened his back. A curl of his arm, which shook slightly under the pressure, saw him lift Caladrin upright, as though he'd reversed the motion of putting him on the floor in the first place. Once Caladrin was upright, Arkash unhanded him, stepped around the noble, then began to brush off his expensive clothes dutifully. "Certainly, my Veir," he returned. His hands ran down and pat the noble's back until he'd brushed off as much dirt as he could manage.
"No need, my Veir," he spoke in response to discussing something, and that was all he said in regard to the sudden flash of Violence. Instead, Arkash sought to conceal his outburst.
The purpose for such a drastic change in attitude, he thought, was obvious. Arkash had only just briefly flashed his true colors, his real self. Caladrin had gazed into the eyes of the psychotic revolutionary that stirred the masses against House Florent some year ago. He couldn't allow Caladrin to see more than that, he didn't really want to develop anything more than that, so his walls had to come back up. He wasn't a threat or any sort of problem to watch out for, just a slave doing his duties, nothing more.
"Did you say Amoren, my Veir?" He asked once he was done brushing off the noble. "I can have a course planned for us moments after we reach the docks... I'm not familiar with the badlands, however," he explained with a bow of his head. Why would worms be a problem? He didn't know.
Whatever Caladrin said on the subject of suddenly being dropped for seemingly no reason at all, Arkash didn't oblige a response. Instead, he held his form and voice proper as he continued to guide the noble to the docks. It would be an interesting journey indeed.
Re: [Valtoria] Menial tasks
Posted: Wed Nov 17, 2021 4:28 am
by Caladrin
Caladrin held his anger back, knowing it wouldn't help in such a situation. He simply helped with patting his expensive attire down as he looked at the slave for a moment. He could tell something had gone wrong in his past. Of course, Caladrin was always one to see good in people; regardless of their race and background. However, in the eyes of the Entente, he kept himself poise as he put on an act. An act of false power. An act that would eventually tear away at Caladrin from the inside, as it has been doing for most of his life. However simple, it was things were always complicated in his family. Three family unions, one goal. It was essentially his job to keep his family together, to not spread unwanted gossip within the eyes of the Entente.
However, as he grew older it proved much difficult. Feelings, thoughts and simple need for space from such affairs proved difficult for him to answer. Whilst he loved his family, it was all too much for him. The way the slave patted him down as if he was subservient, although he didn't realise the nature of the man. Was he scarred by something? Does he have a deep loathing for something that had already torn away at his core of kindness. Did he feel anything? Caladrin had many questions, but he didn't want to pry too much. Perhaps it was simply a misunderstanding. He didn't know the world outside of Daravin pretty well, but it seemed the Candor had ways of teaching you one thing. Always be on your guard, no matter what.
"Of course" He responded, yet still peeved about the way he threw him like that. Like he was nothing; eventually there was no other choice than to simply follow the other man. He was his ticket to Amoren after all, but yet caution rised with him. Who knows if the other man would merely abandon him or worse?
Created by Moop!