Beauty and the Beast [Arkash]

[Salen]

Glade 21st, 4622

It appeared Degare had many enemies following him that night, although rumours that Dahlia was at the Blooming Glen made him worry, but it appeared there were unknown figures amongst his side. Perhaps the two figures that Tiberius had mentioned who didn't agree with Dahlia's methods. It was known that in politics, everyone had disagreements in the Candor. What could be expected from the amount of gossip that leaked throughout Daravin's halls. Salen was keeping a low profile however, knowing that this was the chessboard that the Entente played on. The City of Amoren appeared to be something that was leaked amongst the game.

Salen had proceeded to roam the darkness, out of sight, away from the gossiping folk that would take advantage. He caught a glimpse of Dahlia with another man as he narrowed his eyes, catching her speaking with him. It was private, but Salen knew she was up to something as she watched.

"Degare's got his own estate here in Amoren; I'm pretty sure it's easy to slip through... He's quite an eccentric man, easily tempted... That's one of his flaws." She reiterated towards the man. It was worth following the man to see where he could lead him. He kept his hood up he watched Dahlia leave after their conversation as the hooded male appeared to take off. Salen cloaked himself in Obscura and followed the man who was looking back everytime. It took a second for Salen to hug the walls everytime, camoflaguing with the dark corners of the night as he proceeded further on.

He was eventually lead to Degare's estate in Amoren; a modest settlement for the times he would spend there for the upcoming events seasonal galas and soirees he would attend. Salen has had a pleasure of attending a few with Dahlia's approval, but it appeared that Ardenserat was the place where the Candor was aggressively practiced. He would usually keep out of situations like that unless there was a reason for him to be there. He watched the Corvo that Dahlia had sent, climb into one of the windows of the house and disguise himself as a slave.

Narrowing his eyes, Salen proceeded to try the front door. He knocked three times, keeping his hood up as he wondered if Degare would be in. If not, maybe his servants would answer?

[Arkash]

The Cardinal Resonator was apparently a tremendously useful device; or so he could tell from the imagery of the doctor’s notes. It was a relay that the Necromancer implanted in their own body in order to gain control over an undead with a small capsule-like receiver known as a Transistor. Arkash had acquired one such Cardinal Resonator in his purchase of the kit he possessed. Though it’s use wasn’t immediately obvious, the illustrations of its practice seemed to make sense to him. He just had to… Finish the installation.

In the estate’s bathroom was a large mirror that hung over the sink. Such was pivotal for the success of the operation. In one hand, he held a hand mirror while his bare back faced the sink mirror.

A slight adjustment of the angle revealed the wide-open gash in his skin, and the stitches that worked to staple the wound open.

It dripped red down his spine in streaks that stood stark against the tone of his skin. Positioned directly at the base of his skull, Arkash was able to see the various muscles in the area working together to hold his head upright.

His breathing was quick and ragged while his muscles ached in the dry air.

He’d long since began to sweat while he clutched his bloody scalpel, the suturing needle laid at the edge of the sink with a piece of thread to tail it, painted just as red as the blade in his hand.

His jaw pressed hard as his white-knuckle grip of the hand mirror stiffened further, and he lifted the scalpel to work with the reflection of the mirror. It hurt just to hold the blade close to the exposed muscle, though he hadn’t yet cut through that layer of his flesh. His nose curled and he breathed with enough weight to flare his nostrils as his brow pressed, and he psyched himself up for the pain.

“It’s temporary,” he said, voice quiet. “It’s just a few minutes of pain, then it’s done,” he said again with his voice low, raspy.

His hand shook as he neared the point of the blade to the sensitive flesh, his teeth bared and he pulled away at the last second with a sigh of relief.

His heart was beating fast, audible in his hears.

“Come on!” he spoke harshly. “Don’t be a fuckin’ pussy!”

A flash of rage seemed to take his eyes in that moment, wild anger that stared at the site intently. His jaw began to chatter before he pressed his teeth tight again, brought the knife to the open wound, and pressed through the muscle fibers with a throaty growl. The rush of pain pushed his body into overdrive with a flood of adrenaline, his sweating intensified his head shook at the force of his bite as other muscle began to engage the weight of his head when those ones failed.

The trick was to not cut too deep, else he risked severing his brain stem.

The Rath was particularly gentle near the middle, but hurried his way through once he passed it, then dropped the scalpel in relief, a panting, sweating mess.

Shaky fingers clutched the Cardinal Resonator, brought it to the open wound, and gently pushed it into the gap in his muscles. Another burst of pain ripped through his and drew a pained growl from his lips that later built to a full blown cry of anguish before it slipped into place right above the Atlas. He gasped as it popped into position beneath the muscle, and the pain stopped, blinding in his senses.

Shakily, he withdrew his fingers, and the muscle fibers began to rejoin before his very eyes, and appeared to swallow the device, completely assimilating it to his biology.

He breathed quicker again as he dipped his fingers in the Burnishing balm, and smeared it over the muscle with an almost satisfied groan.

With the aid of the balm, the addendum was made permanent, and his body was made to accept the tool.

A breathy sigh escaped his lips as he lowered the mirror and flexed his hand to produce one of his Dranoch claws, which cut through the stitches he’d made with ease. His rubbery skin snapped back into place to cover the muscles there, and quickly began to rejoin, sealing up with no evidence of any wound ever existing there.

The blood that trailed down his back was nearly dry, coagulated.

There, the young man breathed in relief, then pulled the string from his skin and reached up to feel the area. It wasn’t noticeable, he found.

With a deep sigh, he bent down to collect the scalpel and put it in the sink. The needle was added before he turned on the cold water and began to rinse off his hands and the tools both. With hands cupped below the flowing, clean water, Arkash splashed his face with the cooler fluid and groaned.

It was over, it was done. All he had to do was clean up.

He was partway done with the blood on his back when the front door was knocked. A visitor? At that hour? All the Valran were asleep, so who could it be?

Arkash closed the faucet and flicked the water from his hand before he began to dress his lower half with a pair of pants and threw on a loose, long-sleeved garment of white fabric to cover up his chest before he proceeded out the door. A roll of his neck tested the implant. it was quite ergonomic; very comfortable.

Toward the door he proceeded barefoot and brushed his dreadlocks aside before he swiped the sweat from his brow and smeared it on the inside of his trouser pocket.

With ease, he opened the door fully, utterly unafraid of who might be standing there, and found none other than the harlot from the Badlands. Arkash’s brows rose above his widened eyes as a deep breath through his nose filled his lungs. It was difficult to compose himself on such short notice; the disguised Rath appeared to be surprised to have met anyone at all, as though he was expecting the doorway to be empty. “Oh!”

He shook his head, blinked quickly and cleared his throat before he began somewhat bashfully. “Er, can I help you..? The Veir is asleep at the moment, and most of the Valran have retired for the night, too,” he began, notably flushed while he stared at the human, ever wide-eyed. His breathing and heart rate were notably elevated, mostly due to his surgery just minutes prior.

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[Salen]

Salen would wait, taking in the view of the night sky as his Obscura became visible with the light of the area, the shadowy, inky and cloudy substance that would unfold with each passing. Salen would exhale through his nose as he seemed somewhat impatient. Perhaps it was the thought of Dahlia getting her claws into Degare and finding out that he possesses a scandalous mark upon the witness. With that, Dahlia needed some kind of evidence to frame him. Something big, lucrative and even the type that could destroy one's reputation.

The door opened and Salen stood there as the Obscura unfurled away from him into the wind; the black sillouette that he sported would undress itself in flickers of black flames, identical to the ones that he saw on the beast that attacked him all those weeks ago. At that point, Salen revealed to himself, but the person behind the door was so much more familiar. He could notice that there was something wrong. Was he in pain? Not that it mattered to him; it seemed Salen was swift in taking a clear inspection of the man in question, who was standing in front of him. The dark skinned man with dreadlocks that he saw whilst guiding Degare through his mindscape. He would recognise the man to be the lover that Degare shared a painful moment with, although it raised questions in Salen's mind as he thought about Degare.

Had he been truly honest?

What was his intention now?

Was he truely on his side or was he like every other Entente he has had experience with?

He could sense the man was in pain with something, knowing the way he composed himself at the door. Had he not been any well? Had he been bed ridden with illness, or was he a necromancer conducting surgical procedures on himself? He knew Necromancy was common amongst the Entente as they would shape themselves into the paragons of Ulen. The seductive and chiselled forms that they would form. Some were even abusive of the art and formed flesh golems and mindless undead to serve at their whims. Whatever he was suffering with, Salen's attention was simply on the matter at hand. The squatter that Dahlia had sent to spy on them.

The annoyance on Salen's face was masked by his charming smile; making eye contact with the dark skinned male. Salen's gaze was intense as he laughed, iniitating the cast of Beguiler upon the man so he could approach the man in a amiable fashion. His stare remained intense as he spoke suggestively to the male, wondering if the effect of fascination had worked "I'm sorry, I wouldn't have came if it was urgent, this is mostly a matter for Veir Socorro..." He chuckled as he tilts his head, ensuring a much more playful and yet aggressive strategy to luring one in with words "I'm assuming if you're within his house, you would be a loyal servant of his, correct?" His words were well spoken, articulate and yet smooth as velvet. An act to cover up the fact that he wasn't particularly versed in Daravinic politics, even though he tried. He didn't want to drive suspicion, nor create any tension between Degare and the mystery male that was in front of him.

"I'd prefer if we'd discuss this inside, if you don't mind. It would be tragic if any of this information was spoken on a mere doorstep, where prying eyes and ears are lurking in the shadows." The half Sil'Norai would add tilting his head to the right again as he got a good look at the slightly taller male. He looked over his shoulder once again to see if there was anyone watching but there was no sign of anyone. Amoren's streets were empty, but that didn't put a stop to an Entente's revelry to cause trouble and carnage between players. It was a simple matter that Salen knew very well.

[Arkash]

As the obscura withdrew, Arkash feigned subtle surprise with a raise of his brows. “Oh, a nightfallen?” He asked with a tilt of his head, skin glistening with light sweat in the moonlight. “Impressive use of your Mark,” he commented before asking what it was the man was doing there.

Salen hadn’t seemed to the type to betray people he was close to, and had to have been close to Degare to have initiated him in Remnomancy, and so, the younger man didn’t linger too long on the thought of eliminating Salen upon seeing him again.

As the older, shorter man began to explain that his business was with the Veir, Arkash exhaled through his nose and looked away in thought as he nodded gently. “Well, how urgent? He’s quite difficult to wake once he’s asleep in my experience.” Indeed, Degare often drugged himself to sleep with his own ether. Rousing him from that was akin to moving mountains.

“…I’m his physician,” Arkash explained. “A man without Ulen’s proving cannot be a Valran.” His shoulders relaxed a little and he shook his head. “All the same, I’m grateful for the business and opportunities presented to me by my clients and treat them with reverence.” Arkash wasn’t normally so open in his act of Caro, but he found his lips a little looser than they otherwise would have been. Even so, he didn’t seem to notice. From his own point of view, his compliance came naturally.

“Inside?” Arkash verified. “Oh of course, where are my manners? Come in, come in,” Caro shouldn’t have been so friendly; he didn’t know Salen was an ally of Degare’s.

With ease, he stepped aside and held the door open for the human. His baggy clothes billowed a little as he moved, certainly light in their appearance with plenty left to the imagination. The lack of shoes was also indicia of his hurry to dress in something. Was it possible Salen had woken him up?

Once Salen was inside, Arkash moved to shut the front door and exhaled deeply while he leaned against the handle for a moment. He brushed the locks from his features and pushed them back to set his eyes on the human with keen interest.

“…So what’s this about?”

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[Salen]

The cold darkness unfurled further as it revealed more of his form to see. "You sound surprised... Have you not seen a Nightfallen before?" He bluntly as his gaze remained on him. A smirk crept upon his lips as he remained calmly, yet humble "You would probably do the same if you were hiding, right?" He questioned, before letting out a little chuckle.

The familiar male seemed to have had a strong connection with Degare, but Salen had remained cautious, keeping his offers at arms length for he had been burnt before; it was only natural for him to feel a certain flair of distrust and paranoia that would seep into his thoughts. Perhaps, there was some good intent coming from the other man. He would have to inspect him closely. His gaze shifted as the man would further question his intentions, which seemed to annoy Salen

Ugh... Sopor induced sleep, damnit... He thought as he remembered how Degare would place himself asleep with his own use of his ether. The man's patience was growing thin, yet it was always difficult for people to decipher weither he was annoyed or simply pleased with a matter. Perhaps, he had learnt the lesson of restraint upon dealing with Dahlia's exploits. It was only natural for him to feel cynical and pessimistic about political matters.

He frowned at the sight he caught earlier; the sight of one of Dahlia's henchmen freely slipping their way through the slave's quarters "I would say a matter of life and death..." He spoke darkly, his voice was full of urgency and yet it spoke the words of impending doom. Perhaps a bit too dramatic for what Salen was going for as he continued to press the man further to come inside as he would explain further. This time, he glared warningly at him, with a slight narrow of his eyes as if he would prefer him not to discuss matters on outside premises "Hmm..."

Once the man had gotten the message, he smiled as his gaze would follow the other male, as if the man couldn't keep his eyes off of him. He watched him as he shut the front door, noticing that the man appeared to be in some kind of pain. He tilted his head as he looked closely at the blood on his shirt, between the back of his neck to the bottom base of his scalp.

"I apologise if this is a bad time, but somehow for most people, this is the perfect time for such revelry..." Salen would remain calm and collective, speaking each word as punctuated as he can, with no forms of colloquial language between them "Although, I'm sure you know, Degare and I are in a much more... Difficult situation." He would pace backwards and forwards across the room as he looked around the long red mahogany corridors were stringent with Degare's colour motif back at home.

He stopped and turned his footing towards the dark skinned male and smiled "A bloodhound follows us both named Dahlia, she's a renowned information broker and spy, has been notible for using Remnomancy in ruthless ways in order to get her own way." He exhaled deeply through his nose as it was a painful subject to talk about, perhaps too painful for the likes of him, knowing he was also a victim of Dahlia's revelry within the mind. "I know, because I've seen it with my own eyes, if she can't find dirt on other people, she would fabricate it herself by falsifying their memories, creating events and narratives that may coincide with others." He simply stated with honesty as he was scared of the thought "I followed one of her henchmen to her house, that's how I know she's still doing it."

Salen raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, wondering what the other man would say "However, there's one problem. She can't always falsify one's memories without a logical thought pattern. You can't create a story from nothing, nor a dream." He shrugged, knowing himself how well versed he was from learning Remnomancy from the various libraries he's been through "The downside is, her narratives have to reflect reality accurately, which may be difficult in the minds of other people." Salen would iterate, knowing so much about the subject himself, although he hadn't tested that theory out, perhaps he ought to, to see the possibilities of the magic.

"It's funny how magic reflects science in a way, doesnt it? Hmm?"

[Arkash]

Describing the problem as a matter of life and death earned Salen a prompt and swift entry into the foyer. There was more a sense of urgency about the apparent human, who seemed not only more cooperative with the use of Beguiler, but also with the sudden gain of an initiative to resolve the cause for Salen’s visit.

“…It’s not a bad time,” Arkash said. “I was… In the middle of experimenting with human anatomy, but it was postponed as of a few seconds ago to resolve… Whatever this is.” He let go of the door handle, then straightened out his baggy shirt and wiped the sweat from his brow.

In the lamplight of the foyer, it might have been apparent that Arkash’s heartrate was elevated by the quickened throb in his jugular. He briefly winced and rolled his neck, then lifted a hand to the back of his head head and pinched. It seemed that the site of the installation was indeed sore as his adrenaline seemed to recede.

“I’m… unaware,” Arkash said as he tested his neck, then appeared to pop some pocket of trapped air in the column, widened his eyes, then breathed a sigh of relief. “…Dahlia?” Yes, the woman, Salen had mentioned before. It was obvious from Salen’s past recollection and his current expression that this woman had done some great deal of harm to him, to which the appropriate response was “I’m sorry for your struggles.”

When Salen affirmed she was still doing it, Arkash briefly chuckled and bared his pristine teeth in the lowlight of the scarlet/mahogany room. “Well of course she is. If no one’s stopped her then she has no reason to quit, does she?”

“You seem knowledgeable in Remnant,” Arkash said, recalling that Caro Caedimire wasn’t familiar with Salen, and that he had no idea what sorts of powers the man possessed. “Are you perhaps a wielder of two marks?”

“I suppose…” Arkash returned with a slight shrug when Salen offered the observation of Magic and Science coinciding.

A deep exhale flared his nostrils, and he tested the endings of his sleeves while he appeared to think, then looked to the stairs that stretched at the end of the hall. “…So, why the urgency? You said it’s a matter of life and death but everything you’ve told me sounds like a threat for the future; more Entente shenanigans.”

“I assure you the Veir is very capable of handling such external threats himself… Unless you’re one of this Dahlia’s agents?” He posed, quite directly with a sudden twist to his tone. Arkash knew it wasn’t true, but he wished to hurry the interaction along so that he could saddle his implant correctly. “Was all that talk on the door matt just for your ease of access, friend?” Despite the pause, Arkash’s intended delivery was quite calm and collected; a display of confidence in the face of what might be a foe in the narrative he was spinning.

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[Salen]

Salen's description of the event appeared to have; although Salen remained courteous and worryingly charming about the situation ahead of him. The use of Beguiler may have appeared to have worked, but he wasn't certain if it truely worked. Perhaps the man's own free will rendered him to let him in to see what he was about. A dangerous mistake for a man who was unknown. The sound of the bootsteps on his feet were somewhat heavy as he walked over to a window and paused.

When Arkash spoke, he turned around with a smile, indicating no malice, but a hint of sympathy towards the male as his features softened "Human anatomy? A Necromancer?" He assumed, knowing that a physician of Degare's stature would be in the possession of such art as it was regulated by tools rather than ether and required intensive practice and craftsmanship within the skill level of the craft. "I apologise once again, if it was something important you were working on, I hope to be brief, but it appears that it may be a long complicated story." He spoke out formally, putting on a act as he was speaking.

He walked over to the chair and sat down, legs crossed. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from underneath the sleeve of his shirt and began lit himself a cigarette, taking a pull and blowing the smoke away from the physician that was in front of him as he made eye contact once again "Do you smoke?" He asked curiously, wondering if the man had dabbled in such things; however, this was to satiate his own lust, his own craving for the substances that excited the mind as the earthy odor wisped into the air, taking hints that the male was clearly in pain; perhaps he needed something to dull the senses.

He watched further, drawing in another pull from his cigarette, taking a hint at the draw of pain. However, it appeared that he needed to start explaining the whole thing as Arkash mentioned that he was unaware of the events that unfolded all those years ago "As was I..." He stated "Dahlia Senerite, a nasty piece of work, revels in exposing of Veir by simply finding out their secrets through Remnomancy; although she had tried countlessly to try and erase Degare's memories, but her plans failed." He nodded.

The male appeared to be bashful, offering his apologies for which Salen had decided to shrug off earnestly. He didn't want someone's sympathy but rather justice for the actions caused by the Entente. The way that they lie, deceive and use the law into their own ends made Salen sick to his stomach, he could only imagine. During the pause in his speech, he took another pull from his cigarette and blew the smoke, only this time it was directed towards Arkash "You don't need to apologise..." He stated as he furrowed his eyebrows in thought "Yeah, that's the Entente for you... Play games, watch people suffer, play more games... Life's a casino for the big boys..." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

His expression shot up as soon as Arkash mentioned Remnant, laughing as he tried to remain humble "You flatter me. I know stuff, but not everything." He sighed, knowing how impossible it was to cope with Dahlia's antics at his current stage; he knew he needed to be stronger, but he didn't want to push himself, especially with the recurrent symptoms of Mageblight that would pop up every now and then. When asked about his marks, Salen stated honestly "I have three marks... Remnant and Nightfall being the two I've had the longest, my recent acquisition was Mentalism."

"Do you know what a Remnomancer of the highest skill level can do? Do you?" He asked, slowly getting up from his seat as he took another pull from his cigarette and blowing it, making his way towards the window as he looked out of it "Let me clarify something for you" Salen had no choice but to reveal the reality of Degare's situation, knowing that he is in grave danger. "Dahlia is a very powerful Remnomancer, I don't think Degare would be well protected from someone who can dive into your thoughts from being at close proximity to you and finding out every living detail about you..." He raised an eyebrow as the man appeared to be defensive, constantly spinning a narrative between friend and foe.

"If I wanted to get into the house, I could've just done what one of Dahlia's agents did a few minutes ago... How do you think I found my way here... I followed him and now, I'm going to enjoy interrogating the bastard once I get my hands on him." He smirked as his voice became somewhat dark as if he enjoyed the notions of pain and sadism "And you're going to help me" He finished as he chuckled, explaining his plan to interrogate the Corvo that Dahlia had sent once he had gotten his hands on him.

[Arkash]

He nodded at the question; he was indeed a Necromancer. “You’re not likely to find another physician of my skill, and definitely not for rates as low as mine. I value everyone’s business should you find yourself in need,” he said with a courteous bow, one hand over his front. One of the rules of the Candor was the exchange of information; it could never be for free. In exchange for the knowledge of his profession, he hoped to gain a customer.

Though he said nothing on the subject of his research’s importance, he followed the man with a hazy stare as he took a seat on ne of the red-cushioned couches. His nose curled a little before his lips parted to breathe through his mouth, almost as though he’d smelled something foul the moment Salen lit his cigarette. “No,” he answered plainly. “When you’ve come to scrape as much tar from people’s lungs as I have, the sentiment of smoking becomes…” His features curled in perturbation, “…unpleasant.”

In truth, Arkash hadn’t operated on any smoker, he just found that the quality of the organs within smokers was always poor, and that the flavor was always tainted by the buildup of plaque and other substances that stuck to his teeth.

“I see,” he returned when Salen began to explain the details of Dahlia’s work. “That’s quite the operation she runs. Has anyone tried to take revenge on her before or are you the first?”

The human’s outlook on the Entente made him smile internally, the glint of which might have shined in his pained eyes if only for a moment. His heart still raced and he still bled tension with the onset discomfort in the base of his skull, but still held off on taking action upon it.

It was fairly obvious that Salen was not a player of the Candor, just as he’d said all those nights ago in Rustbucket. He continued to divulge details about himself and the marks he wielded, all of which, Arkash was at least vaguely familiar with.

“Three marks is impressive, Ulen must favor you,” Arkash spoke his praise of the man. Indeed, he was quite the potent mage… Which meant that Salen’s meat would progress his evolution further than the regular mortal, if it came to that.

Dahlia’s agents… “You mean…” he began as Salen began to talk. There was someone in the house? “Help you?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head, then rolled his shoulders and tilted his neck fully to the side to pop a joint there. The implant shifted a little, and Arkash growled audibly at the sensation as he shut his eyes tight.

He breathed in through his nose; a deep breath that expanded his lungs, and held it there before he breathed out through his mouth. His pupils were large, dilated when his eyes next opened, some hazy, euphoric overlay to cover them. “I think you mean compete,” his voice came low, heady with some sort of primal, predatory need. He took a step back, away from the glow of the lamps, then appeared to vanish into thin air just a moment later.

Arkash perfectly blended in with the shadows, completely invisible. Eliminating his opponent would require the use of his inhuman strength, speed and reflexes. If the agent was skilled enough, he might even need to make use of his burning teeth and claws, all of which he wished to keep from Salen to preserve Caro’s identity.

So, melded with the natural darkness around the manor’s lamplight, Arkash began to make his way through the estate, evading the lamplight that would reveal him at every corner. Quickly, and with accuracy, he closed in on the source of the unfamiliar scent on the upper floor of the estate.

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[Salen]

"Impressive..." He added as he tilted his head, noting the courteous bow as the man appeared to be confound in the rule of the Candor, whilst he was familiar; he figured a direct approach was the best strategy, a chance to test the male for his true intentions "Maybe, I'll consider" He nodded, acknowledging the fact that creating potential business procedures was a creation of allies across the board. Information and business had a price, for it would be a fair exchange. Information for an ally. That's how it worked.

As Salen sat down and crossed his legs, he decided to initiate an offer of generousity. He lit his cigarette as he implied he would offer the man one if he needed the urge to indulge in the debaucherous pleasures of addiction that were so heavily craved by the Entente. Salen listened and spoke out as his features softened; he blinked as he looked directly at him, placing both of his hands on the arms of the chair. His legs remained crossed as he opened his mouth to speak "I see, doesn't sound rather appealing..." He raised his eyebrow "Each to their own..." With a shrug as the male began to pry more further.

He pulled his cigarette once again and blowed the noxious fumes towards Arkash's direction as he looked up at him, smirking "And with her being just a Veir, she clearly doesnt act alone in these proceedings..." He sighed at the thought of revenge, but it appeared that'll be impossible without help "I did learn she has enemies within her own sect however, some that she seems oblivious too... She was always a narcissist, always flaunting favors from other people to be likeable, truth is... well... She's only likeable because she is feared across Daravin." He sighed once again as he took another inhale of smoke and exhaled outwards into the open air "I'm sure many have tried to enact revenge on her and failed..." He said.

He watched as he looked; of course Salen didn't play the Candor at this time, he gambled on the earnest trust that the man was loyal to Degare. There was no question he was probably a fool in this matter, but he took the risk. A test of loyalty had been played further.

Eventually, the conversation stirred towards Ulen favoring him; the moment Arkash or rather Caro in this identity, had left Salen amused with sarcasm. At first he chuckled, before letting out a howl of laughter, showing how amused he was by the brash, brazen behaviour of the other man. Someone of his stature to be Ulen's servant? Of all the nerve to assume such a thing of Salen. His smirk turned into a shit-eating grin of disrespect as he clearly showed a lack of favor for the god. He hated him; yet it was so surprising to Salen that he laughed it off "Yes, Ulen certainly does favor me doesnt he?" He acknowledged himself in false arrogance, thought there wasn't a single ounce of malice upon him.

However, there was something wrong; he narrowed his eyes for a moment as he heard a familiar dark tone to the voice. He had heard it before. I think you mean compete. An unusual practice for someone to initiate, but it was clear that Entente customs often resolved to the power struggle between potential rivals. Whilst, the other man preferred an hands-on and offensive approach. Salen preferred to draw out his 'prey' with his disarming charm, illusions and the intricacies of Nightfall "Alright... Let's see who can draw out the being first..." He reiterated, wondering where the other male had gone.

Concealed by Obscura?

He shrugged it off and began to cast Devise, using the surrounding low-light around him to generate Umbraplasm; he rolls the Umbraplasm in his hands creating a Compass. After he has generated the black orb of compressed Umbraplasm, he casted Confide, transforming the Compass into a hidden shadow image of himself as it dissipates into the walls, creating a trap for the intruder.

However, he had more floors to cover and his ether had depleted; The half Sil'Norai could feel his stamina had drained slightly from just the single cast. How could this have been? Mageblight? Perhaps magic wasn't always the answer in some cases. It was mundane skills that would help him, for he did not have enough ether to create more shadow images to trap the agent. He knew the best place to start first was the Library, that was where most of Entente's secrets were. His dominant hand transformed into the Shaper; as the hand became black; the sharp razor claws that inhibited from it were enough to rend flesh and even grab a man if needed.

He proceeded into the music room which it appeared to be quiet with no sign in the room. The piano lid closed and Degare's collection of instruments well stacked in their cases. He narrowed his eyes for a moment as he could smell a different scent to his own. Another Corvo. The footsteps and scuttering could also be heard as well as the heavy breathing. There was fear; the fear of being caught. He looked around the room as he stepped forward; the agent would reveal himself in a flash of fear as he thought he was caught.

Stupid mistake.

The agent would lunge at Salen as they rolled on top of each other, wrestling with claw on claw. The agent appeared to have a stronger Shaper than Salen's, but he still continued to fight for his life. He tucked his legs in and kicked the male forward, sending him backwards as if just to relay enough force to get him off from him "I recognise you from the bounty board..."

"Am I talking to a dead man walking? I must be psychic..." Salen laughed as he paced himself, ready for the agent to lunge at him once again as he circled around the music room "Besides, haven't you picked the least convenient room to have a fight in, you do realise theres all sorts of items of sentimental value here. Are you sure? It would be my ultimate pleasure to drop a piano on your head..." He said metaphorically.

"Good luck." The agent reacted cockily as the two would continue to fight once again. This time, Salen grabbed the agent as he ran forward and threw him against the floor, forcing him to yelp. He forced his knees upon his biceps and grabbed him by the throat, only pushed off with ease with the use of his Shaper. Afterwards, Salen would try and grab the foot of the agent as he got up but missed, watching him flee the room.

Salen's exhaustion got the better of him as he was weakened by the effects of Magithermal Entropy from both his recent magical initiation and his overuse of Remnant.

[Arkash]

Little was said on the subjects prior to his initiation of the chase; he merely smiled in response to Salen’s consideration of services, nodded at the admission that lung tar wasn’t appealing, and frowned at the talk of the troublesome Veir Dahlia.

Of course, Arkash wasn’t a believer of Ulen, and merely spoke his praise in that regard to maintain the illusion of his persona.

So, he blended with the Shadows and disappeared when Salen looked away. While the man was still sitting, Arkash was on his way up the flight of stairs. He trailed through and tracked the scent to its source, which was revealed to be in beyond the piano room, in the study. Swiftly, Arkash darted through to the study in which he’d initiated Degare; it was also the room in which he practiced his Necromancy and experiments.

Arkash paused there and listened with his ear to the door as a beating heart quickened beyond. He stayed there for a moment, savoring the smell of fear that wafted from the cracks in the door, then twisted the handle and let it slip open.

It wasn’t immediately apparent what had gotten the intruder so worked up, but the spike in rhythm that came with Arkash’s interaction with the door was thrilling. In the distance he could hear Salen messing around in the library; he had time to play with his food, he believed.

Slowly, the door creaked open, squeaking steadily on its hinges. Left ajar, the entrance to the piano room was made inviting by the apparent lack of presence that Arkash projected.

Quietly, he stepped back and waited as the intruder stared in awe at the opened door. It was quite unusual, for a door to open on its own. Given the state of some of Arkash’s experiments in that room, it wasn’t hard to believe that the man would need more than a few drinks to slog those memories from his mind.

It was unfortunate that he’d already unknowingly drank his last.

Trembling, the intruder emerged from the room, concealed by a veil of Umbralplasm that Arkash saw in its entirety. The human’s outline was stark against the natural darkness of the room, which was more than apparent to the cardinal.

The trauma the man had witnessed in that room was apparently so severe that his breathing had picked up; he was quaking, a nervous wreck. As he sheepishly stepped past the threshold of the door, Arkash gripped the handle and slammed the door closed with cruel intent. The man physically jumped, nearly out of his skin, turned to face the door and awkwardly shuffled away, eyes fixed on the room.

The guised Rathor grinned, completely unseen in the unlit room.

Sufficiently terrified, Arkash was prepared to sate his hunger on the man when Salen entered from the far end of the room. The Rath paused, and stared on at the human who feigned curiosity before he stepped in close. The intruder, a ragged-breathed, trembling mess, revealed himself. Arkash rose both brows, unseen by the pair, then stepped quietly away as a scuffle broke out.

A bounty board was mentioned after the two had tumbled across the floor. Dahlia had bounties?

He pondered for a moment as the two exchanged quips, then shook his head. He had no interest in being a noble’s garbage disposal.

The second half of the fight broke out, and as Salen went in to grab the man by the leg, the stronger Corvo escaped. Arkash’s brow furrowed while Salen was panting and heaving in exhaustion, darted the short distance to set a collision course with the corvo, and threw his weight into a powerful right cross that sounded to crack something on impact with the Corvo’s cheek.

In wake of the sudden and immense display of force, the Corvo hit the ground and abruptly skid to a halt on the red carpet. He was still, completely unconscious with just one solid blow.

As he dropped the camouflage of shadow, Arkash rolled his wrist and tested the clutch of his fingers as if to feign that the strike had hurt, if only a little. It hadn’t; the Cardinal’s body was far more durable than that of a squishy mortal.

As he rolled his wrist, he looked over to the exhausted Salen and rose a brow. “I suppose you win; you found him first,” he said calmly. It wasn’t a huge loss on his part; the intruder was a weakling by the standards he was used to dining at.

“Are you alright? I can fetch my kit if anything’s broken or out of place,” he spoke at Salen as he dipped to grip the man by the scruff, and crudely, unempathetically lifted him off the floor and threw the limp body over his shoulder.

With remarkable ease, Arkash propped the body in a standalone chair with an armrest, then began to strip his jacket and any other fabric that clothed the skin of his arms. Once that was done, he proceeded to the study at the end of the room and cast a glance at Salen as he gripped the handle of the door. “Don’t follow me,” he warned before he opened the door just enough to step inside, shut it, then reemerged with a black leather bag with a brass handle and shut the door behind him.

Image source.