8th, Frost 4621
After Hours.
Aulen appeared to be asleep soundly after their brief moment of passion. Salen had acquired a mix of inspiration, happiness and health from the other man that had exhausted him slightly. The dangers of sleeping with a night fiend weren’t clear to him, but it was like picking your poison, enjoying it in sweet ecstasy before finally succumbing to its drawbacks. Exhaustion had collapsed Aulen into a deep sleep. Salen took a moment as he watched him; sneakily climbing out of his bed as he tiptoed across the floor.
He was inside the Veir house of Stark, ready to search for clues, for evidence of the crimes that he had committed. If there was evidence lying around it would be in the study of Aulen Stark himself. He watched for a moment as the man would lie asleep; before getting dressed again as quickly as possible. It was a cold night to be walking around naked, in the first freezing hours of the Frost season. It was night, yet so cold. The warmth of the other male’s body had been enough to satisfy him, but it wasn’t something that he could just skin and carry with him. He had to think of other alternatives.
He saw the man’s clothes, draped and trailed on the floor as he stood his hand in the pocket; he found himself a key. What would it open? It was best to try the doors. Salen watched as he was weary that the other man could wake up, but he didn’t; he wasn't going to wake up; he had placed him in a sleep-like trance within the realms of exhaustion. He tiptoed carefully as he didn’t place his boots on. He needed to sound as quietly as possible as he tiptoed with cat-like steps. His feet made no sound at all; not a single trace of sound to hear.
He made it across the corridors, back to the ballroom for which they had their moment of gathering. It was empty, quiet and eerie, with no sign of anyone around, other than the guards outside. It was obvious that Aulen had a high status as a Baron of some sort to own a fine source of land. Salen’s eyes ogled around the rooms, the corridors as they were dark. They were unlit in the hours of darkness, meaning that there was enough room to hide in the covers of darkness.
Salen began channeling his magic into manipulating the light photons around him, making the area seem darker as small rows of Umbraplasm were generated; the light somewhat vanished from the area for a moment as Salen compressed the darkness into a spinning ball. A compass. An essence of the magic he needed to learn whilst on the field, in darker areas it could be useful as he dislodged the compass back into a pool of darkness; watching it disperse as he walked through the darkness that he had created.
The room he had arrived towards appeared to be locked as he tried the door handles. He pondered for a moment as he looked around, wondering if there was anyone wondering about before he pulled the key from his pocket. He inserted it into the keyhole and turned it.
The click of the door, it opened. This was Aulen’s study accompanied by the same decor of gold and gauze; he removed the key and pocketed it as he took a look around. There were paintings on the wall, from the family members of his Veir house; it appeared that they had an increasing presence in Daravin as warlords who served Montiens and Treveyns. It was obvious Salen had an opponent picked for him. One of great stature, etiquette and exquisite exploitation. The kind that would reveal that chill down his spine; the vile thrill that encased the lands further in gold, glory, death and tragedy.
He remained vigilant as he looked around further; the bookshelves held a variety of books including those shitty two dranari romances; the kind that Salen would cringe at. From The Maid’s Wish to the worst one ever, Y'shendrella. A tragedic story, written piece exploring the concepts of Malek being the scourge that kept Y’shendra from pursuing her dream. A fictional representation of what was actually true. It was extremely childish to keep a childrens book around, perhaps the noble had children himself? Not to mention the absurd nature of the wooden slipper fitting upon one's foot. What kind of joke was that? The more Salen thought about the rows of romance books, the more he cringed; he was displeased
“And already, a boring yet unsophisticated cretin… What a turn off” He said to himself. The thought of him having to listen to the wallowing and wailing of romance tales would quickly turn off Salen; maybe even plot the death of the person who wrote that piece of shit.
His attention turned to the desk as he walked over and began rummaging through the drawers. The first drawer was empty; so was the second one. The third one however was locked. Why would someone lock a drawer? There was clearly a secret to be revealed. Salen wondered if the key had the same lock as the door he came in. He unlocked the drawer and found a strange letter, along with a map. It appeared to be a full map of Daravin, locating something in the Imperial Badlands.
Finally, the evidence that Salen needed. Aulen was planning something in the Badlands, a piece of evidence that could lead to Aulen being exposed for Imperial Irreverence; the worst punishments could be death, defamation or even exile from Daravin. He pocketed the evidence as he closed the drawers and locked everything; he wanted to make sure he didn’t leave no stone unturned. He watched as he closed the door; his footsteps were quiet, soundless. He approached the door of the bedroom as he opened it and closed it slowly.
He saw that Aulen was soundly asleep. He had what he came for now; it was time to leave in the most discreet manner possible. Out of the window, simply via disappearing. He grabbed his boots on the floor as he tiptoed over to the balcony; seeing the distance he could jump. It was safe for him to jump as he climbed onto the balcony and dropped down. He landed with such poise and elegance as he bent his knees to keep him balanced.
“You took your time.”
A female voice echoed out from the shadows as she revealed herself from her shroud. A female corvo like Salen, only he appeared to be slightly alarmed.
“Dahlia… As usual, your always full of surprises. You don’t even knock. Always welcoming yourself in my room uninvited.”
She smirked “It’s my place, you follow my rules, fledgling, I do as I please… What did you find?”
Salen took the map from his pocket as he passed her it; she smirked as she raised an eyebrow “Why you’re not a disappointment like the rest of them; this is astonishing evidence… Well done… Now, we must head back to our stronghold…”
Stronghold… Where was it?
That was for Corvo to know and for others to find out.
“I’ll meet you there, darling…” She said as she disappeared; camouflage amongst the shroud she had developed.
Salen crossed his arms as he shook his head, noticing that she had called him that on the day he was initiated. He had his fun for now, but he couldnt help that her patronising nature was both endearing and yet slightly annoying.
The deed was done, Aulen was a dead man walking with most of the evidence he has. He wondered what else Dahlia had discovered about him. What dark secrets she had taken. There was no questioning the mysterious woman as she spoke in riddles. Complicated riddles. It would often leave Salen confused. The fact was he was meant to be confused, she didn’t tell anyone her business. It is unknown to him that she is like the rest of the animals within Daravin.
What would come of such a sweet deal?
Pain.
Sacrifice.
A broken ambition.
After Hours.
Aulen appeared to be asleep soundly after their brief moment of passion. Salen had acquired a mix of inspiration, happiness and health from the other man that had exhausted him slightly. The dangers of sleeping with a night fiend weren’t clear to him, but it was like picking your poison, enjoying it in sweet ecstasy before finally succumbing to its drawbacks. Exhaustion had collapsed Aulen into a deep sleep. Salen took a moment as he watched him; sneakily climbing out of his bed as he tiptoed across the floor.
He was inside the Veir house of Stark, ready to search for clues, for evidence of the crimes that he had committed. If there was evidence lying around it would be in the study of Aulen Stark himself. He watched for a moment as the man would lie asleep; before getting dressed again as quickly as possible. It was a cold night to be walking around naked, in the first freezing hours of the Frost season. It was night, yet so cold. The warmth of the other male’s body had been enough to satisfy him, but it wasn’t something that he could just skin and carry with him. He had to think of other alternatives.
He saw the man’s clothes, draped and trailed on the floor as he stood his hand in the pocket; he found himself a key. What would it open? It was best to try the doors. Salen watched as he was weary that the other man could wake up, but he didn’t; he wasn't going to wake up; he had placed him in a sleep-like trance within the realms of exhaustion. He tiptoed carefully as he didn’t place his boots on. He needed to sound as quietly as possible as he tiptoed with cat-like steps. His feet made no sound at all; not a single trace of sound to hear.
He made it across the corridors, back to the ballroom for which they had their moment of gathering. It was empty, quiet and eerie, with no sign of anyone around, other than the guards outside. It was obvious that Aulen had a high status as a Baron of some sort to own a fine source of land. Salen’s eyes ogled around the rooms, the corridors as they were dark. They were unlit in the hours of darkness, meaning that there was enough room to hide in the covers of darkness.
Salen began channeling his magic into manipulating the light photons around him, making the area seem darker as small rows of Umbraplasm were generated; the light somewhat vanished from the area for a moment as Salen compressed the darkness into a spinning ball. A compass. An essence of the magic he needed to learn whilst on the field, in darker areas it could be useful as he dislodged the compass back into a pool of darkness; watching it disperse as he walked through the darkness that he had created.
The room he had arrived towards appeared to be locked as he tried the door handles. He pondered for a moment as he looked around, wondering if there was anyone wondering about before he pulled the key from his pocket. He inserted it into the keyhole and turned it.
The click of the door, it opened. This was Aulen’s study accompanied by the same decor of gold and gauze; he removed the key and pocketed it as he took a look around. There were paintings on the wall, from the family members of his Veir house; it appeared that they had an increasing presence in Daravin as warlords who served Montiens and Treveyns. It was obvious Salen had an opponent picked for him. One of great stature, etiquette and exquisite exploitation. The kind that would reveal that chill down his spine; the vile thrill that encased the lands further in gold, glory, death and tragedy.
He remained vigilant as he looked around further; the bookshelves held a variety of books including those shitty two dranari romances; the kind that Salen would cringe at. From The Maid’s Wish to the worst one ever, Y'shendrella. A tragedic story, written piece exploring the concepts of Malek being the scourge that kept Y’shendra from pursuing her dream. A fictional representation of what was actually true. It was extremely childish to keep a childrens book around, perhaps the noble had children himself? Not to mention the absurd nature of the wooden slipper fitting upon one's foot. What kind of joke was that? The more Salen thought about the rows of romance books, the more he cringed; he was displeased
“And already, a boring yet unsophisticated cretin… What a turn off” He said to himself. The thought of him having to listen to the wallowing and wailing of romance tales would quickly turn off Salen; maybe even plot the death of the person who wrote that piece of shit.
His attention turned to the desk as he walked over and began rummaging through the drawers. The first drawer was empty; so was the second one. The third one however was locked. Why would someone lock a drawer? There was clearly a secret to be revealed. Salen wondered if the key had the same lock as the door he came in. He unlocked the drawer and found a strange letter, along with a map. It appeared to be a full map of Daravin, locating something in the Imperial Badlands.
Finally, the evidence that Salen needed. Aulen was planning something in the Badlands, a piece of evidence that could lead to Aulen being exposed for Imperial Irreverence; the worst punishments could be death, defamation or even exile from Daravin. He pocketed the evidence as he closed the drawers and locked everything; he wanted to make sure he didn’t leave no stone unturned. He watched as he closed the door; his footsteps were quiet, soundless. He approached the door of the bedroom as he opened it and closed it slowly.
He saw that Aulen was soundly asleep. He had what he came for now; it was time to leave in the most discreet manner possible. Out of the window, simply via disappearing. He grabbed his boots on the floor as he tiptoed over to the balcony; seeing the distance he could jump. It was safe for him to jump as he climbed onto the balcony and dropped down. He landed with such poise and elegance as he bent his knees to keep him balanced.
“You took your time.”
A female voice echoed out from the shadows as she revealed herself from her shroud. A female corvo like Salen, only he appeared to be slightly alarmed.
“Dahlia… As usual, your always full of surprises. You don’t even knock. Always welcoming yourself in my room uninvited.”
She smirked “It’s my place, you follow my rules, fledgling, I do as I please… What did you find?”
Salen took the map from his pocket as he passed her it; she smirked as she raised an eyebrow “Why you’re not a disappointment like the rest of them; this is astonishing evidence… Well done… Now, we must head back to our stronghold…”
Stronghold… Where was it?
That was for Corvo to know and for others to find out.
“I’ll meet you there, darling…” She said as she disappeared; camouflage amongst the shroud she had developed.
Salen crossed his arms as he shook his head, noticing that she had called him that on the day he was initiated. He had his fun for now, but he couldnt help that her patronising nature was both endearing and yet slightly annoying.
The deed was done, Aulen was a dead man walking with most of the evidence he has. He wondered what else Dahlia had discovered about him. What dark secrets she had taken. There was no questioning the mysterious woman as she spoke in riddles. Complicated riddles. It would often leave Salen confused. The fact was he was meant to be confused, she didn’t tell anyone her business. It is unknown to him that she is like the rest of the animals within Daravin.
What would come of such a sweet deal?
Pain.
Sacrifice.
A broken ambition.
