TIMESTAMP: 22nd Rime, Frost 4618
NOTES: Open me!
NOTES: Open me!
► Show Spoiler
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Among many other things, Daravin is notorious for its cruelty. A nation that is inherently cutthroat from the top down, many choose to relieve the stress of their lives by taking it out on those a few rungs below them on the ladder. Happiness is fleeting even among the most powerful due to the oppressive nature of the game everyone plays– the Candor. Touting itself as a ‘meritocracy,’ what this really means is that those who are the most callous rise and those who are too soft to step on and over others fall and are crushed. Such an environment is inevitably one that fosters a lot of stress alongside fostering a lack of both empathy and sympathy among its citizenry. As a result…the things they do for entertainment are often strange, often bizarre, often creative, often cruel– especially in the case of the nobility.
In many cities across the nation, executions are treated as a spectacle– people gathering from all around to watch those tagged for death suffer through their final moments even if the spectacle itself, hanging or the ax, is really not that interesting. For some in Daravin, such displays of death are quite bland due to how much blood flows through the nation’s streets; as a result, there are some nobles who’ve opted to make the process a more fun viewing experience. If one were to ask why, what was the point? There really isn’t an answer beyond ‘for fun.’
—
On an icebound night in the midst of Rime, many of Verant’s Entente gather in House Socorro’s main manor. Tonight, a few executions turned into an elaborate performance are taking place. Such shows are somewhat rare because of the rather complicated setup they require, but many of Boghadar’s nobles find them quite exciting and the manor in which they are held is always filled. House Socorro, originally known for the talent of its artists– primarily musicians– is now notorious for these macabre displays masquerading as a form of ‘entertainment.’
Clad in robes of swirling black satin, face cloaked in shadow by his hood, a tall Veir moves with long strides through the stone halls of his estate; eventually, he arrives on the balcony of the manor’s main performance hall. Directly below him, his house’s orchestra warms up on a stage centered in the large ballroom. Along with these performers, there are six bound prisoners and a few Valran to subdue them only a few feet in front of the main stage. Dressed lavishly and wearing masks, they look far more put together than one would expect of prisoners bound for death. This is, of course, another aspect of the show. If not for their shackles, they might even blend in with the best of the Entente guests.
Watching from above, the Sil’Norai Veir is approached by a Valran of the same race. She carried with her an empty silver chalice; it is a beautiful family heirloom engraved with ornate silver filigree. With a bright, affectionate smile she holds it out to him. Wordless, he removes the glove on his right hand and raises it over the cup. Channeling a reasonable amount of ether into his palm, it begins to drip with an iridescent black oil-like liquid; those familiar with Bane would recognize this substance almost immediately as Pathos. Artificially created by the Ferrier’s ether, this Pathos carried with it the Bane of Rot. However, it was no standard form of Rot, rather, it was the elven Veir’s mutated Rot– unique in the way that it affected bone tissue and bone tissue alone. Quickened in its effects if ingested, it would rapidly deteriorate one’s bone tissue causing weak, spongy and brittle bones. Simple movements or use of force would cause the bones within a man to snap and shatter. Withdrawing his hand when the cup is sufficiently filled, he replaces his glove and returns the woman’s smile. With a short bow and her chalice of Pathos, the Valran turns and takes her leave 0back down to the floor below.
Stepping up to the balcony’s railing, Degare channels more ether, though this time it is channeled upwards into his Neurocrux to create about nine tethers per hand, eighteen in total. The ether cost of this was kind of heavy, but he didn’t really care. To him, it was worth it. Appearing as ethereal, electric purple strands, these tethers extended from his palms and drifted through the air in the direction of the shackled prisoners below. Each prisoner would end up receiving three total tethers, threefrom each hand. Once all of his tethers are connected to their targets, the Mentalist channels the Reverie of Minstrel into each of them. Minstrel on its own would allow him to manipulate them into feeling emotions such as joy or elation, but this skill was also affected by a mutation of his. In this case, it would reverse the way they felt pain. Instead of agony, it would be delight and things like hunger and dehydration would not be detectable. Additionally, their emotions would be further intensified by any music played, thus compelling his targets to express themselves, typically through movements akin to dance.
By the time he completed this process, his elven Valran, Lucia, reappeared down below and approached the group of prisoners. Eyes of clear jade were alight with bright joy as she extended the chalice to each of them. Degare himself hadn’t the slightest clue what she said or did to convince or force them to drink from the cup, but it ultimately didn’t matter– she always succeeded and they were bound for death anyways. Her task finished, she absconds intending to return to her Veir’s side. Preparations complete and the voices of guests audible from the other side of the doors leading into the ballroom, it was almost time to allow everyone in and begin. The couple Valran tending to the prisoners stood ready to unshackle them as a few others moved to the doors.
Leaning over the balcony resting on his elbows, the Mentalist’s hands hang lazily over the side, bright purple tethers glinting in the lowlight of the room as he waits for Lucia to return. Once she did, he raised his hand to gesture that it was time to let everyone in and the Valran opened the doors. At the same time, those guarding the prisoners unshackled them before stepping a few feet back to both get out of their way and also to keep guests from getting too close. The orchestra waited for a few more minutes to ensure that all of the guests had time to come into the main hall before they began to play.
After the ballroom had reached capacity, the musicians finally began their song. As their notes rang out through the hall, amplified by the acoustics to fill the room, the prisoners, or rather, the entertainers began a performance of their own as well. To a viewer that didn’t understand how this was set up, it would look like they were puppets on strings due to the ethereal nature of the tethers attached to them. In reality, all the tethers did was magnify the emotional impact the music around them would have– filling them with vibrant elation and joy that would compel them to move and infuse them with the ability to be yet fueled by their own suffering…and suffer they shall.
From above, the two silver elves watch with placid expressions though there is a glint of excitement in the male’s eyes and a sadistic sort of anticipation in the female’s. The first of the puppets to break was a rather frail looking man. Neither Sil’Norai knew anything about him, nor did they really care. All they saw was a doll in a costume, a creature commanded to break for their amusement. One of the other dancers had moved to grab the man by the arm for whatever reason and he recoiled in pain as if the bone within was damaged, only to be confirmed by the limp way his arm now hangs. Despite this, he doesn’t seem to care– allowing it to swing freely with his continued movements. Usually, the first break was a domino as the rest would now be equally destabilized,
With something of a twirl, the broken man’s arm swings out of his control and collides into the chest of another puppet. Even from this distance, one could tell that ribs had collapsed under the force of the strike. The dancer, a woman, looks unbothered even as she appears to cough– internal bleeding? It was a possibility, but given the mask she wore, such a thing was not yet visible. Within the same few seconds, a louder snapping sound could be heard as one of the previously unscathed puppets seemed to have landed his footwork incorrectly in one way or another and broke the bones in his calf, either the tibia or fibula, maybe both. Lucia laughs, bright with chiming musicality, as this unfortunate soul continues to try and keep pace with his companions. His endeavor, however, was for nought. With much of his weight now placed onto the other leg, he crumples to the ground shortly thereafter as his knee twists and gives out. That’s the first of six to go down.
- - -
Among many other things, Daravin is notorious for its cruelty. A nation that is inherently cutthroat from the top down, many choose to relieve the stress of their lives by taking it out on those a few rungs below them on the ladder. Happiness is fleeting even among the most powerful due to the oppressive nature of the game everyone plays– the Candor. Touting itself as a ‘meritocracy,’ what this really means is that those who are the most callous rise and those who are too soft to step on and over others fall and are crushed. Such an environment is inevitably one that fosters a lot of stress alongside fostering a lack of both empathy and sympathy among its citizenry. As a result…the things they do for entertainment are often strange, often bizarre, often creative, often cruel– especially in the case of the nobility.
In many cities across the nation, executions are treated as a spectacle– people gathering from all around to watch those tagged for death suffer through their final moments even if the spectacle itself, hanging or the ax, is really not that interesting. For some in Daravin, such displays of death are quite bland due to how much blood flows through the nation’s streets; as a result, there are some nobles who’ve opted to make the process a more fun viewing experience. If one were to ask why, what was the point? There really isn’t an answer beyond ‘for fun.’
—
On an icebound night in the midst of Rime, many of Verant’s Entente gather in House Socorro’s main manor. Tonight, a few executions turned into an elaborate performance are taking place. Such shows are somewhat rare because of the rather complicated setup they require, but many of Boghadar’s nobles find them quite exciting and the manor in which they are held is always filled. House Socorro, originally known for the talent of its artists– primarily musicians– is now notorious for these macabre displays masquerading as a form of ‘entertainment.’
Clad in robes of swirling black satin, face cloaked in shadow by his hood, a tall Veir moves with long strides through the stone halls of his estate; eventually, he arrives on the balcony of the manor’s main performance hall. Directly below him, his house’s orchestra warms up on a stage centered in the large ballroom. Along with these performers, there are six bound prisoners and a few Valran to subdue them only a few feet in front of the main stage. Dressed lavishly and wearing masks, they look far more put together than one would expect of prisoners bound for death. This is, of course, another aspect of the show. If not for their shackles, they might even blend in with the best of the Entente guests.
Watching from above, the Sil’Norai Veir is approached by a Valran of the same race. She carried with her an empty silver chalice; it is a beautiful family heirloom engraved with ornate silver filigree. With a bright, affectionate smile she holds it out to him. Wordless, he removes the glove on his right hand and raises it over the cup. Channeling a reasonable amount of ether into his palm, it begins to drip with an iridescent black oil-like liquid; those familiar with Bane would recognize this substance almost immediately as Pathos. Artificially created by the Ferrier’s ether, this Pathos carried with it the Bane of Rot. However, it was no standard form of Rot, rather, it was the elven Veir’s mutated Rot– unique in the way that it affected bone tissue and bone tissue alone. Quickened in its effects if ingested, it would rapidly deteriorate one’s bone tissue causing weak, spongy and brittle bones. Simple movements or use of force would cause the bones within a man to snap and shatter. Withdrawing his hand when the cup is sufficiently filled, he replaces his glove and returns the woman’s smile. With a short bow and her chalice of Pathos, the Valran turns and takes her leave 0back down to the floor below.
Stepping up to the balcony’s railing, Degare channels more ether, though this time it is channeled upwards into his Neurocrux to create about nine tethers per hand, eighteen in total. The ether cost of this was kind of heavy, but he didn’t really care. To him, it was worth it. Appearing as ethereal, electric purple strands, these tethers extended from his palms and drifted through the air in the direction of the shackled prisoners below. Each prisoner would end up receiving three total tethers, threefrom each hand. Once all of his tethers are connected to their targets, the Mentalist channels the Reverie of Minstrel into each of them. Minstrel on its own would allow him to manipulate them into feeling emotions such as joy or elation, but this skill was also affected by a mutation of his. In this case, it would reverse the way they felt pain. Instead of agony, it would be delight and things like hunger and dehydration would not be detectable. Additionally, their emotions would be further intensified by any music played, thus compelling his targets to express themselves, typically through movements akin to dance.
By the time he completed this process, his elven Valran, Lucia, reappeared down below and approached the group of prisoners. Eyes of clear jade were alight with bright joy as she extended the chalice to each of them. Degare himself hadn’t the slightest clue what she said or did to convince or force them to drink from the cup, but it ultimately didn’t matter– she always succeeded and they were bound for death anyways. Her task finished, she absconds intending to return to her Veir’s side. Preparations complete and the voices of guests audible from the other side of the doors leading into the ballroom, it was almost time to allow everyone in and begin. The couple Valran tending to the prisoners stood ready to unshackle them as a few others moved to the doors.
Leaning over the balcony resting on his elbows, the Mentalist’s hands hang lazily over the side, bright purple tethers glinting in the lowlight of the room as he waits for Lucia to return. Once she did, he raised his hand to gesture that it was time to let everyone in and the Valran opened the doors. At the same time, those guarding the prisoners unshackled them before stepping a few feet back to both get out of their way and also to keep guests from getting too close. The orchestra waited for a few more minutes to ensure that all of the guests had time to come into the main hall before they began to play.
After the ballroom had reached capacity, the musicians finally began their song. As their notes rang out through the hall, amplified by the acoustics to fill the room, the prisoners, or rather, the entertainers began a performance of their own as well. To a viewer that didn’t understand how this was set up, it would look like they were puppets on strings due to the ethereal nature of the tethers attached to them. In reality, all the tethers did was magnify the emotional impact the music around them would have– filling them with vibrant elation and joy that would compel them to move and infuse them with the ability to be yet fueled by their own suffering…and suffer they shall.
From above, the two silver elves watch with placid expressions though there is a glint of excitement in the male’s eyes and a sadistic sort of anticipation in the female’s. The first of the puppets to break was a rather frail looking man. Neither Sil’Norai knew anything about him, nor did they really care. All they saw was a doll in a costume, a creature commanded to break for their amusement. One of the other dancers had moved to grab the man by the arm for whatever reason and he recoiled in pain as if the bone within was damaged, only to be confirmed by the limp way his arm now hangs. Despite this, he doesn’t seem to care– allowing it to swing freely with his continued movements. Usually, the first break was a domino as the rest would now be equally destabilized,
With something of a twirl, the broken man’s arm swings out of his control and collides into the chest of another puppet. Even from this distance, one could tell that ribs had collapsed under the force of the strike. The dancer, a woman, looks unbothered even as she appears to cough– internal bleeding? It was a possibility, but given the mask she wore, such a thing was not yet visible. Within the same few seconds, a louder snapping sound could be heard as one of the previously unscathed puppets seemed to have landed his footwork incorrectly in one way or another and broke the bones in his calf, either the tibia or fibula, maybe both. Lucia laughs, bright with chiming musicality, as this unfortunate soul continues to try and keep pace with his companions. His endeavor, however, was for nought. With much of his weight now placed onto the other leg, he crumples to the ground shortly thereafter as his knee twists and gives out. That’s the first of six to go down.
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'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"
'Thoughts'
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Raillen Tongue/Speech"
"Silvain Tongue/Speech"
