Nurtured to Hatred

[*Bloodlines]

Vierkiira's simulacrum nodded as it received its instructions. It no doubt had some witty remark of dry retort to offer the drow (it was a copy of herself, personality and all after all), but regardless it was completely loyal to her.

((Going to save a little time here myself))

The simulacrum made its way around the force wall and approached the tower. Once beyond the force wall, the defenses seemed rather mundane. The front door, despite being built from a sturdy oak and twice her height, had been left unlocked. After the simulacrum inspected it for wards and traps, it used its etherealness to pass through the oak and into the front room, dismissing its incorporeal veil once inside.

The room was large and reminded the drow of the library room she had seen in the Raynsford estate, homely and comfortable, but carved out of black stone and mahogany. The space was also too large, larger than what might have been suggested outside of the tower and circular with a spiraling staircase at the other side and support columns throughout. Fine carpets and tapestries lined the stone floor and walls and the light of ever-burning candles filled the room. Cabinets and shelves overflowed with old books and tomes while a solitary table off to the side was covered in a neat stack of papers and writing utensils. A dragon head statue stuck out of one of the central columns, its maw wide and turned upward with the wisps of what might be incense, though unfortunately Clairscent was not one of the spells the drow had used.

"Hello," a voice came from the corner of the simulacrum's eye. It sounded like a small girl.

Vierkiira's glass eye showed her icy counterpart snapping to bring the girl into full view. She was petite, though almost as tall as Vierkiira and wearing a sky blue dress, the skirt trimmed with the colors of a sunrise. The first thing the drow noticed abut her was how young she was. Ten years old at best, with long auburn hair framing a soft, sandy colored face. And then there were the eyes. Orange, burning like hot metal with an unnerving sensation about them, as if the heat from them was burning into the drow. Even when the girl smiled, Vierkiira could feel the heat of her gaze.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said in a sing-song voice. "Why did you come?"

[*Technical_Intervention]

Getting snark from her own spell. These were the reasons she studied arcane for several decades.


The young girl was unexpected, the intell hadn't mentioned an infantile creature. But she also suspected her employer would not be satisfied if something was to happen to one in process of the job. Before exchanging words, her mind raced through theories for the origin of the child. She couldn't be certain it was even really a child after all. Humans according to her limited xeno-biology underestanding didn't have orange eyes. And these ones appeared to contain power in them.

Summer Court? Warmth they spread, inhuman potential. Tangled in fey business already.
Half-Breed child? Appears as human, very young. But orange eyes. However Pavius was to his knowledge human, if this was his child, the mother had to be inhuman.
Was there also a mother to expect? If authentic child rather than spell crafted apparition, this would suggest there was a mother around. Potential incense would suggest as much, the location was presentable looking for a place that didn't expect guests, expensive appearances. Vanity was more common for females. However not conclusive.
Manufactured Apparition? It could also simply not be more than magical construction. Intelligent apparition. After all, having a child in isolated location without rivals... ah, right, friends is what they call them here... without friends in near vicinity. It would not necessarily provide a qualified living environment. With nothing but parents and golems as company. The unusual eyes could be stored wards or energy to more well rounded defensive mechanic, or even divination magic at play.

It hadn't taken many seconds to run through these thoughts until she was writing on the book for the response her simulacra to convey in her stead. "I am, infact, supposed to be here. You may have meant that I am tresspassing, which is true. I am here to talk to Pavius Iverune. And before you ask. If I didn't desire to speak to him, I would've opened this interaction with no words." it was also opportune time to test a theory. "So why don't you call him over and scurry off to your mother, girl?"

[*Bloodlines]

The little girl smiled. Her eyes turned brighter, like a stoked flame.

Then Vierkiira was not sure what happened. A bright light, a scream, all at once and with such intensity that it pushed her out of her connection with her simulacrum. From what little she could glimpse before the spell ended was that the light did not come from the girl, but she had dissolved in it nonetheless. The light was from elsewhere. Behind the child? Then there was the scream. Vierkiira knew the scream did not come from the child. It was her own scream, no, the scream of her simulacrum.

At the base of the tower, at the door that her servant had stepped through it, Vierkiira saw water leak through the bottom of the door, just like blood.

[*Technical_Intervention]

With the connection severed, she no longer needed to sustain as much energy or foci into it. While she had not expected the wizard to act as much of a savage as they had, the simulacrum had been created for the very purpose of being expendable. However it was her creation, her property, and she held the wizard accountable for their insolance.

As impressive as the simulacrum may appear with a quick glance, it's nothing but an energy storage. A limited energy storage. She herself was the real thing. And one of her theories was at a high probability proven true. A manufactured apparition to serve the wizards needs seemed the most probable theory now. Spell that had consumed her simulacrum was more difficult to discern without personal presence. However Greater Ruin did not seem unlikely. If it was such, she knew it'd take at least a couple more minutes before they could cast it again.

Her eyes opened from her meditative position inside her arcane circle. And she rose up, exhausting the disintegration spell at the forcewall without wasting a moment. Forcewall was an impressive spell indeed that could sustain enormous amounts of pressure... but against pin-point attacks such as disintegration, it was flawed. This she suspected would alert the golems, to which she had a spell of their own to deal with. Giving the golems time to move to investigate the perimeter that was just destroyed as she prepared to forceful entry by taking out her book, and casting levitate spell on it to let it flutter along. It had proved useful utility to quick information gathering. Next was her staff which served as a potent utility for any mage.

Assuming the two blade golems made their appearance at a relative proximity from each other, she'd release her next spell. Nothing like making an impression with an overkill. The next spell was not mere simple almost any practitioner learned, Hellball required combining variety of elements together, conjuring them from all the planes simultaneously, unlike fireball or scintillating sphere that tapped into just single one. Additionally, protective qualities of golems would have very little defense against something like that. She'd aim the hellball at the middle of the two golems - detonating it while it is still in air rather than letting it collide with the ground. This way the ground wouldn't absorb any of the impact it had and probably make short work of the golems. And perhaps make the resident of the tower reconsider their approach from the display of posturing and the cost she could inflict with her visit if allowed to continue with mayhem. After all, she had already delivered her communication intents successfully.

For now she decreed quid pro quo. Whether or not this wizard liked having a garden or tower was for them to choose. She re-directed her focus on the arcane circle she had never left from to maintain protection of her distance, illusion still applied, and the foci she put into defensive purposes of the heptagram now, in full expectance of retaliation and her location probably known from the trajectory of the hellballs flying path. She prepared for two possibilities.

One: Sustainable energy she would merely attempt to either deflect or absorb. Abjurations were not her specialty, infact she had neglected them over most other practices. Which is why she relied on her staff and had been feeding it with power and spells over time. Distance would allow her to make most use of even lesser defenses however, spell mantle tilted correctly might let it soak better as the spell had to hit same protection through greater distance rather than flat wall version of the spell.

Two: Either mislead, or dimension door if the energy directed at her was far more tremendous than she anticipates it to be. Mislead primarily so she may fool the mage to think he got her for real this time. After all, she was still out of reach for the true seeing spell. Dimension Door if greater distance needed to be traveled.

[*Bloodlines]

The disintegration ray struck the force wall. Its shimmering surface shattered like glass, opening up a large enough gap in the barrier for the drow to step through. The two blade golems were quickly to respond, charging through the garden without any regard for its maintenance. Their heavy footfalls shook the earth as they trampled over flowerbeds and broke through hedges, and yet both were undisturbed, as if the golems had passed through air.

The golems converged on Vierkiira quickly, one leaping into the air at her, both blades poised to strike. Then the drow released the spell and a kaleidoscopic display of energy consumed them. Heat, cold, electricity, and more washed over them and erupted in the air. When the light cleared, she may have expected the hedges to be blown down. Yet, once again, the garden was undisturbed, not even the shockwave of her attack was enough to let even a single flower lose a pedal.

But not all of the grounds were illusion, for the grass and the ground itself had been disturbed and swept up by the Hellball. What remained of the two blade golems, shattered and charred, littered the small pit of earth that was once a cobblestone path, and yet the flower beds floated there, several inches above it all, ignoring it all.

The tower stood silent now, unaffected by the Hellball, but Vierkiira knew it was different now. Where there was once a tranquility to it, the tower now felt like a tight coil of fury, ready to snap at any moment. She had the wizard's attention.

[*Technical_Intervention]

Illusions to handle vanity. How quaint. It's not very pragmatic, but then she had own soft spots for vanity, so she did not judge it too harshly. With the seeming lack of immediate response from the tower and its residence, she determined it was time for a second attempt at discussion. Perhaps this time they'd be more malleable to dialogue. Both sides had much to lose. He had a home-fiend advantage. Her home wasn't being wrecked. She raised her voice to remain at a safe distance, but to initiate dialogue. "Wizard Pavius Iverune." she began. "I seek to discuss with you. Have I your word, on your power, as a host, to cessation of hostilities for a duration of discussion? Or shall we continue this meaningless risky business?"

It was after all just business to her. Nothing personal. She'd probably act in similar nature to this wizard were her premises entered without permission. She remained in her defensive posture and position regardless, until she'd have his word. That or forced entry might be required.

[*Bloodlines]

And for a moment, forced entry might have seemed like the most likely course of action. The tower was silent, the garden was still, and nothing made a move for or against the drow's proposition. It was after that moment passed that the image of a man appeared. Robes of blue and gold covered a slender, weak frame but Vierkiira knew better than to take his appearance for what it was. As the fey had told him, he was young - by wizard standards - perhaps in his mid to late 30s with short dark hair and a pointed salt and pepper goatee. He clasped his hands behind his back, walking along the air just above the smoldering hole that was his garden, and looked upon Vierkiira with judgmental eyes.

"You've come a long way to have a word with me, drow," he said, a voice filled with loathing. "Maybe next time you'll knock."

[*Technical_Intervention]

She mentally noted that no word of safe passage had been granted, so she remained in her ward, and on alert. Though went along with the dialogue for now, as it was path of least resistance. "This is a one time job, there won't be a next time." though it could be interpreted as a threat, she made no move or change of posture to carry it out. Suggesting it was literal meaning rather than a threat to be carried out. Since she wasn't exactly the most qualified of small talk, and the situation certainly didn't call for it, she rather went straight to business. "I have been tasked with a job, pertaining your pact with one of the Winter Court." she started, and let that sink in before she continued. "As you understand, Fey politics can be... messy." looking around a moment as if to let the current matter speak for itself, before fixating on the image of a man.

"And it is within both of our interests to handle this as civilized practitioners." She wasn't beyond manipulation by reminding of wizards inherent feel of arrogant superiority. "Your current pact is desired to be... dissolved. And a new pact to be made with my employer instead. A she of the Winter Court." For now she left any tangibles out of discussion. First she needed to understand the mood and opinion of the man and his pact before she could even begin to make a counter offer. Though she had one fairly powerful bargaining chip. Not wrecking the place further.

[*Bloodlines]

Pavius looked surprised, perhaps not expecting that the drow knew about his dealings with the Unseelie. But then surprise turned to amusement and the wizard scoffed. He lifted his chin upward, as if to look down on the drow from a great height, a look Verikiira was very familiar with.

"Interesting that you know about that. So, I suppose I can assume what you are saying is true. You want me to break my word with the fey? And what do you think the one I've pacted with will do when they learn I've broken my arrangement with them for another?" He brought his hands forward, lacing his fingers together. "If I make a new one with your employer, they might send another to do the same thing."

This was, of course, plausible. The threat of death might convince him. It wasn't her problem if he received other visitors once her dealings with the fey in this instance was finished. The drow wasn't bound to any agreements beyond simply convincing him to make the pact.

Vierkiira certainly displayed she has the power to level the tower, so there was no doubt there she could convince him either way. Even if the wizard could defeat her, would he want that kind of collateral damage? And then there was a chance that the rival didn't have someone like her to strong-arm the wizard again, that her employer was strong enough to deter anything like that from happening. Her employer, after all, had no qualms about sending the drow on this errand.

But the stronger the favor given, the stronger the favor returned. If she could convince him to make the pact and ward off potential agents of her employer's rival, that would go far and could pay off in the future. Her employer would be happy, and fey, unlike mortal men, were bound by their word to keep their promises.

[*Technical_Intervention]

The chin upwards glance to look down at her earned a small amused smirk. She indeed knew that look very well. Her amusement however was stiffled and killed quickly by practiced disciplined mind that was orientated in business at hand. And this moment indeed was the crucial one that she had no clear answers to. How much could she guarantee her employer to take duty on this matter. There was a couple ways to go at it. Though she spent time to consider the matters carefully, her trained mind had spent decades into plotting and studying the complex matters of arcane. The intelligence she had harnessed through the years granted her a capacity to visualize and arrange her thoughts methodically and quickly.

"They might." She did not deny the distinct possibility. "I shall however share you with an important detail. They will not hire I as their enforcer. The nymph - Leyana, however remains a useful acquintance to I. And you appear important enough-" she was about to say asset, but decided against it as this human would likely find it disdainful to be deemed with such crude terms "-individual to my employer to send I in the first place. I imagine she has incentives to maintain such a course of matter. For I, it means potential future profit. For you it means a guarantee." of sorts. She didn't voice that addon however. He did not need to know that part. And she was disinclined to bind herself, or her employer without consultation. "In addition. I shall tell you how to improve your wards. They have a few glaring issues." It wasn't exactly a kindness. Because it'd also guarantee that she knew the weaknesses of said defenses if she had to return.