The Internal Affairs

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Serena
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Posted by Serena »


"I believe what you wanted to say was 'Thank you, Aidan, for taking time to collect our remains and bring them somewhere where we could safely reform without being killed again', wasn't it, Eurydome, my dear?" He stated flatly, as he raised the cup of tea to his lips for a sip. He hadn't liked the sudden kidnapping, even less the impromptu flight, and, yes, of course he was already well accustomed to the Erinyes hissy temper... But it was alright, there were other problems he -or better, they- had to worry about... and at that time the deviless' venting was a strangely welcome interlude.
"... In that case, your gratitude is noted," he continued nonchalantly, as if annoying the Erinyes was his second job, "but now, since I don't have the luxury of reforming after getting killed, I'd like to know what happened, and why I have Knights from Malagard after me." He concluded quietly, his attention shifting to the Amnizu as he did so. He imagined that, between the two, Apep was the most likely to have any kind of information, and he had already proved him right.


"What containment protocol, who attacked you? And most importantly, did they get to the artifact?"
"Hand me my shovel, I'm going in!"

Plays: Aidan Rhistel - Factor and Law Representative of the Fated
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Slayer of Love
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Posted by Slayer of Love »


From Eurydome's perspective things may not look as comfortable, and Rhistel sure does not need much to stir up that anger. Of course she talks back.

"I was really looking forward to throwing up swampy slime. You know I hope sometime you get to enjoy it with me."

Unlike her, Apep is as always completely detached from a most remote shade of emotion. He explains calmly.

"We were not attacked, only contained. These are failsafe procedures set by the Ambassador General invoked in an event of a security incident, to prevent the loss of the most valuable assets. We are not entirely certain what happened. You found our remains at the minaurosian border?"

"More like dropped. Great one."

"These remains wouldn't happen to be crystalised and shattered by chance?"

"Why do you think he had to collect them?"

"Judging by the looks, it is Variant 87 of the Containment Protocol then, to be invoked in case where Ambassador General is compromised, and some other party in Baator can be potentially involved.

A assassin under the veil of shadow is to seal the door to Hell. Then neutralise the staff with a special blade that will prevent their forms from natural dispersal and coalescing back. Finally retrieve the object and research notes. I was not cleared to learn the part of the protocol which specifies what happens to the artifact next."


"Wait, you were in on all of this? I mean, 'Variant 87'? How many variants are there? Some bosses I have to work for, you and her. Looks like you spent more time plotting against the employees than on the job."

"It is an important element of the security strategy to be able to prevent advantageous resources from being utilised by the enemy."

"Oh that is rich Grumpy, I feel so much better already. Let me guess, all this time you haven't even figured out who this enemy might be?"

"We have now."

Apep hints to Rhistel suggestively.

"Slithery serpent. Is that why you agreed to come?"

The amnizu does not feel a need to explain himself.

"Don't give me that look.

So now the hoofed tincans from Malagard will be also after us. You know who's the one behind this, Grumpy? We should find them and get them to call their dogs off."


"I don't, politics is not my departament. Hell is a place of many aggresively pursued interests. Best guess - whoever it was they also had to do with the disappearance of Ambassador General.

"Another groundbreaking observation, congratulations. So what do we do about them?"

"I'm not going to do anything about anyone. We are between hammer and anvil here. Agents of both sides are likely to have hostile intentions, and no one can be trusted. Even if we would like to turn ourselves in, there is no telling who is compromised and who is not. Now is time to lay low."

"Just fantastic. As though that all wasn't enough, I am now refugee. You know what, Fluffy, you had that right - thank you very much, I am so much grateful now."

"As to why they follow you Aidan, I theorise they are watching the tower - like many other compromised bases, I know we've lost the Incunabula library - with orders to retrieve whomever roams in there. That's what you'd do if you searched a place for something valuable, but wouldn't find it there."



* * *



An endless pit, filled with thick, foamy fog of microscopic iron dust that pieces the skin in contact - above, around, below. Winds howling horribly in distance sound like thousands of thousands of gut-wrenching shrieks and lamenting despair of damned souls, blurred together in powerful, freezing cold gales that blast torrents of salty hailstone. Maraphiel's senses are not like those of creatures dwellings the primes - attuned to the suffering of soul, in this dreadful cacophony she hears and feels each single one voice as distinctly as a mortal can tell one finger of their hand from another.

Thick, rusted chains carved into her vessel violently extend as far into the pit as sight goes. They rattle tugged by the rampaging storms, tearing the prisoner asunder with each blow. She was pulled up here after the jury called for a recess, after which they will reconvene to vote their verdict.

Luxury stay, she considers, considering the attitude she has given as the accused in the court martial calling. It was no great play of deception, no bluff of ages. To her, most of the members are mere muppets, laugable watchdogs put in place to mind her leash. Even though their positions are above hers, she senses the fear many of them harbor. Hiding behind rules, ranks and minions while secretly cowering a confrontation - she despises that. And now they threaten her to remove her from a post she considers a mockery - as though she could be at loss there! An assignment meant to keep her away from the courts, based on the same, pathethic fear in those who arranged that for her. Stashing her away as far they could, cutting off from pursuit of her agenda where it matters. She sees it as an outright insult, to be tossed on this weak play to a place permeated so by the chaotic corruption, where she has to suffer the indignity of having to be respectful towards all manners of despicable planar creatures, and tolerant even of insolent mortals. Such humiliation.

Despite this revulsion Maraphiel's placement in Sigil has had some brighter sides, she has managed to put in motion wheels of many lucrative schemes she could not possibly set from Baator. She does not harbor a wish for these opportunities to end just yet. Not a reason to worry, either. What are they going to do, replace their top performer?
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Serena
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Posted by Serena »


He listened attentively to the amnizu's explanation with the occasional nod in-between sips from his cup: his words clearly made enough sense to him once they fell in place with what he already knew

"I had suspicions. but the situation at the Incantifier's tower was too chaotic, and I didn't have much time to mull over what I saw," he admitted thoughtfully. "You were 'dead' and the place had been upturned, which suggested an external intervention... the repaired seal itself did look like something an attacker might have done to block you in place, still, it was... too well mended to be done on the fly by someone not already accustomed with it..." he added, turning his gaze back to Apep for a brief moment before shrugging lightly and then thumbing toward the Erinyes with a lazy gesture "...and then someone from the other side of the breach tried to guilt trip me into breaking the seal again by posing as Eurydome, so at that point I was almost certain the seal mending was something Maraphiel had planned. I suppose the fact they sent the knights moments after sorta proved my point."

He thought briefly about what else he wished to tell them. Would it be wise to tell them the Ambassador General was arrested? There was good chance they'd discover that soon on their own, in any case...

"At any rate, I am sorry I picked up your remains, at that time it seemed the most sensible thing to do, " he offered eventually, and by the sound of it he wasn't even being sarcastic, not even when he added "What would it be the best way to proceed in such a situation? Should I leave everything as it is?
The Custom border seemed a good idea, at the time, being it a time-compressed space. I figured it would have allowed for a quicker recovery, in reference to the normal time-flow... but I can see how it might have been uncomfortable..."
He concluded with an innocent look toward Eurydome from behind his tea cup
"Hand me my shovel, I'm going in!"

Plays: Aidan Rhistel - Factor and Law Representative of the Fated
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Slayer of Love
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Posted by Slayer of Love »


Eurydome throws in at the mention of her.

"Obviously I would never do such a thing."

Apep explains as accurately as he can muster that he does not know how Rhistel should proceed.

"I was not cleared to know the part of Containment Protocol which specifies what needs to be done about you."

"What do you think? You've got the hellknights on your back. Think whoever sent them is going to to just give it up?"

"He does. The longer he stays, the greater the risk to us."

"Grumpy has a point. Do you need to be dropped off anywhere particular"
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Serena
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Posted by Serena »


"Oh, I was just asking what I should do if I happen across your trapped remains again," he replied nonchalantly, making to finally set the empty cup of tea on one side before looking back at them. "As for me, I already know what I'll be doing, so no need to... worry on my account" he concluded with a lightly ironic smile at his own words before going to glance briefly at the city-ring all around them, as if deciding where to head next. "Thank you for the clarifications, it's going to make what comes next easier.
Feel free to reach for me if you need anything, yes?"


And thus said, he prepared to teleport himself away, probably ruining the Erinyes hopes to be able to just toss him off the balloon.
He had plans to make, hell knights to catch...
"Hand me my shovel, I'm going in!"

Plays: Aidan Rhistel - Factor and Law Representative of the Fated
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Slayer of Love
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Posted by Slayer of Love »


Gales over the pit Maraphiel's held in quiet down. She can feel something near. A presence. A will able to bend the plane to its convenience. In distance, beneath the thick fog, she sees a blood red shade.

"Well, well, well. What have we here. Getting a little desperate aren't we?"

Red skinned woman, wrapped in a similar to Maraphiel's patent leather uniform, emerges from the metallic clouds of dust and hovers carried on thrice her height wide black wings. It is Alecto, the prosecutor.

"With the case rolling as it is, worst it will come to is going to be bunch of goals to implement in an improvement plan. You, Alecto, will have wasted your opportunity and everyone's time. And no devil is going to treat your accusations seriously."

Not only the prosecutor, also Maraphiel's long time rival and the next candidate in line to take over the Sigil operations. That post was supposed to be hers. But even though Maraphiel was recruited long after Alecto already had been a veteran in the Departament of Internal Affairs, she's climbed through the ranks quickly and as things were she was always a step ahead of Alecto. Always one above in rankings, always performing a slight bit better, always first to reap benefits, promotions, positions, favour of the superiors - always one before her. For centuries Alecto's been vexed with this state of affairs. Alecto could not see how Maraphiel ever deserved any of that. She was defiant. Stuck in the some old ways from times forgotten even around Hell. Vulnerable to emotion, a weakness most pathetic. She was not even, like Alecto, born of Hell, she didn't have to go through the sweat of working her way from the lowly station of lemure to where she was. She painted failures as victories and everyone believed her.

Why? Why would Alecto, with all commitment and blood she's put in her work, have to suffer being put second every time to this incompentant, undeserving stray? Because a few influential pit lords liked to put their toy there. Because keeping their doll happy was more important than Alecto's merits. Against all Alecto's been taught in Hell, of how strength and effort is rewarded, her rival outshines her simply for happening to be some few corrupt bureacrat's favoured morsel.

For centuries Alecto has been waiting to set that injustice straight. And now the moment comes she savours it without haste.


"True, true... it has not been going as well as it could."

"I was hoping you'd have a follow up, because your moves so far have been unbearably weak to watch. I like that, violating the indicment isolation measures, as a prosecutor. Bold! Suicidal, but bold. Tell me, sweetheart. Have you decided a complete shattering of your career will be preferrable to excruciatingly slow decay into complacency?"

Alecto is unmoved by these taunts. Like a puma or shark circling her meal, she glides around Maraphiel's back to whisper just behind her ear.

"Only if anyone's left to complain"

She then dives below, only to reemerge in front, levelling her face with Maraphiel's. On her way back up the black feather of her wing gently struck the chains on which the prisoner is skewered. Set in motion the heavy rings resonate and pull apart harder, ripping apart once again the freshly healed wounds of the prisoner's vessel.

"Treacherous skunk! These are my moves."

They were. Alecto's enjoyed using Maraphiel's own way of toying with others on her.

"Court marshall really was spinning your way, in spite of your plain deterrence, incompetance, vanity..."

"Keep talking dirty to me sweetheart."

"Ironically, same vanity is what made you slip. Virgil has presented to the rest of the Jury the benefits to be brought by the initiative you mentioned in the hearing. The Jury is now roused with them. Some are very eager to finding out the details.

Give them up."


"Ha, ha! Pretty sure the formula for a Wish was uttered differently."

"You don't seem to understand your current situation."

Said that Alecto draws a silver dagger and using it, one by one, she begins to scratch off the binding seals inscribed upon each ring of the chains that bind the prisoner.

"Hear you were getting sentimental about that deserter. A free pass out? How soft you have grown. Shame. Used to be a time when you meant something. But you know what? I cleaned that mess you made. I mended that weakness for you. You want to know what I did to her? I had her fed the larvae. Bit by bit they devoured every single last bit of essence left in her. And the best part? I had her corpse mended and let it roam the verse."

"Deranged monster! How could you steal all that fun for yourself?"

"Face it, you've grown tired, you've grown attached, you've grown merciful. You are making mistakes. It's not your fault. Such long stay away from purity of Baator tainted you. You're in over your head, you can't handle this assignment. So much time on it and still we approach from a position of servitude, not strength.

Take a vacation. Take a rest. Regenerate yourself. Home's much more suited place for you than this. You go rest, go sleep, contemplate. I will handle this.

You failed. What does that honour of yours tell you?

Resign."


"Alecto, your saying this to me displays nothing but ignorance of what the 'verse outside Hell works like. You are the one in over your head. Your ambition is a virtue, but you must be patient. You are not yet ready.

I'll tell you what, my friend, for old times sake, I'll cut you a deal. You're not going to win this. You might as well withdraw the charges now. You do that, I'll cover the costs of the case and top that with a two percent share from Cage dividends for your lord.

...and you avoid the reputational damage..."


"Oh, you flatter me. I have no reputation. You are the one who's our star performer.

I can't agree on that, but we can parley. I will give your lord two percent - as that is the price you suggest to be fair - plus another one percent on top for standing down. And on top of that I will withdraw the charges, so that you avoid consequence."


Of course the neither of the two brachinae falls for the layers of bluffs, misleads and manipulations of the other. Not easily. Even if some bargains begin to sound realistically... not bad. They know their game. They know what the other is trying to do. But of course, they are trying. Who could blame the deviless for trying?

Alecto is done shutting down the binding seals on the chains. To access some of the rings she had to cut into the flesh of prisoner's form. But to them, when it comes to bargaining, groans of a body undergoing vivisection are at best a minor distraction.

With the last seal broken a blindingly bright, golden spirit is released from the devastated remains, which quickly decay into dust. A condensed, resonating blob of intense light is amorphous but resembles the shape of the winged woman it rose from. Disembodied voice continues the discussion as though discarding that vessel was like taking a jacket off.


"You are not doing this for myself, yourself or them. Only for this idea that it is you against me, for them. Your lords and mine. You have to realise it is not. It is you and me, against everybody.

Think about it. Do you really think this is a coincidence you're always put behind me. Always waiting in line for favours. Always on the worse end. They are putting you there for a reason. It is them who humiliate you that way, not me. And their biggest tryumph, is that you believed it. You are dancing to their tune. You managed to twist this entirely and direct on me. Look back. Don't you remember seeing their faces, each time when they gave me favour over you. How they revelled in stirring up that jealousy in you. How they find delight in watching you work yourself over it.

They are turning us against each other. Turning you against your sisters for their own entertainment. Always have. Don't let them. It will destroy you."


"They...-"

With her powers unshackled Maraphiel was that much more convincing - or rather accurate in reading what bothered her rival - so that Alecto actually considers this outlook. It is not beyond her superiors to toy with her like that.

"Oh shut up."

Still, Alecto knows better than to trust her competitor - even if imprisoned. She opens up a vial made of black sapphire glass. The spirit trap absorbs the prisoner's essence and closes it within.

What if she was right, what if really her hatred was misdirected - Alecto wonders while she stuffs a pig, an ordinary, mortal pig, onto the chains where the prisoner is supposed to be kept - a bloodied message for whoever will come looking for her rival.
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Serena
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Posted by Serena »


Not being able to return home was, unsurprisingly, not as hard as anyone would have expected. He never got himself settled into that place, despite the efforts he made, never got attached... still, he was missing the comforts of a personal space, and having to shuffle his belongings around day after day as if he was constantly traveling was slowly tiring him out. Not to mention the inns were... ugh...

Just a bit longer... A bit longer, to make it more convincing... and to make sure everything was ready.

For the past weeks, he had deliberately avoided leaving Sigil unless he was certain he could do so without being discovered, and even in those cases only for the bare minimum needed to take care of the matters at hand: part of the scenario he had in mind involved giving his pursuers the impression he was frustrated and too afraid to leave the safety of the Cage, so even if begrudgingly, he stuck to that plan, making sure to be seen out and about the city while also trying to low key pick up suspicious movements around him.

For him to have even the slightest chance to lure them in any trap, he needed to be a convincing bait. Not too obvious, or they would be suspicious, but also not too obscure, in case he wasn't being followed as closely as he was thinking. The plan needed to have just enough layers to show he was considering them a real threat.
The creation of the trap had taken up most of the free time he didn't spend looking distressed for the public, but luckily it was close to completion now, close enough that he could start scattering the first pieces of information he wished for his pursuers to get a hold of. Since he had first escaped the knights, he had gone out of his way to make up fake appointments with clients offplane only so that the news of him postponing them could be easily picked up, now it was time to start prospecting a meeting he could -not- postpone. Something he needed to attend to, and that finally required him to walk out of one of the many Doors of the City, the destination, an information anyone with some connections or interest could pick up. And then, only for those who knew where to look or had interest in digging, another location, completely different. The real one.

He was going to wait till the last day before planting the last dark about the location having been changed because the previous one had been compromised.


In the meantime, something he could easily take care of even in his office, that maybe was going to shed a bit more light on the situation. He didn't wish to directly pursue the artefact, since it meant possibly endangering it, but he didn't want to exclude any detail about the so called "Variant 87 of the Containment Protocol", and Maraphiel knew his modus operandi quite too well, so if there was any chance she had left any detail for him to pick up, that might as well be how he was going to find out.

He prepared a sizable pot of disgustingly sugared coffee, already knowing the sort of headache that divination spell was going to cause him and wanting to have something to console himself with afterward; once the door of the room was locked he went to set himself on the sofa and leaned against the cushions, focusing on the question he wanted to ask.

Eventually, the vision was called forward.
"Hand me my shovel, I'm going in!"

Plays: Aidan Rhistel - Factor and Law Representative of the Fated
Feel free to reach to me IC for enlisting or general faction rp
Slayer of Love
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Posted by Slayer of Love »


Over the few days in the Cage, there is a number of suspicious occasions Rhistel runs into. Few glances crawl on his back in the crowd only to turn away when they were made. Steps are heard behind even though no one is there when Rhistel turns to look. Some commoner coincidentally follows him through at least fifteen street junctions, only to stop to read SIGIS just opposite of Rhistel's inn. Some boy separated from other children playing and stares at the window of Rhistel's room idly from afar. Maid in the inn comes in his room at an unsociable hour, supposedly to clean the room but without the tools to do that, and giggles off her clumsiness uncomfortably when she runs into him in surprise. There is also that one time when a bunch of thugs follows Rhistel through the Hive and he can be sure it is with intent, but out of the blue they turn back and scatter into unsavoury back alleys. Beggars, jink shirts and all manners of other street conies try to get his attention when he passes perhaps more aggressively so than usually too.

It can be these were merely benign, chance encounters in the crowds of the city, with no connection to his mishap with the infernal forces. Until once he hears from the secretary in the Hall of Records, steamed oddly with excitement about his presence, that some people came asking about Rhistel not making it to a meeting they had scheduled with him off-plane. Odd thing was, that appointment was fictional. Rhistel's own deception, and not one easy to discover either.

With this much coincidence Rhistel may have a strong suspicion the bait's been taken.




* * *



Divination is often an art more than a science. A vague, imprecise question rarely yields the answer one looks for. Without the sense what to ask of exactly, one could spend months of effort searching for details that will only mislead them.

During the study of the artifact, when Rhistel employed this art numerous times, often he'd find the visions before him were more potent than typical applications of these spells. The natural suspicion to draw there is that this unusual behaviour had to do with the object's hypothetical affinity for divination magic somehow boosting the spells' potency. But there is one element that consideration does not account for. There was after all something else that was present close enough to these attempts to taint the readings, and vibrant with magic powerful enough to have affected those visions with such an impact. Somebody else.

When he calls upon the veil demanding its secrets it, like then, is unusually responsive. Exactly like then, when he studied the artifact, even though it is not present here now. Staggeringly so. Like a wave gushing violently against the cliff in all directions, all of Rhistel's senses at once are struck with details so vivid as he was actually there and in every moment of it at once. Every sensation, smell, sound, image, touch, heat, cold, pain and all kinds of boiling emotion from the entire vision hits him at once, as though all time compressed into one instant.

It takes a while and indeed an effort to resist that first wave, but Rhistel does not experience this for the first time. One technique in dealing with a raging storm like this, that helps one stabilise the vision and not turn insane, is to centre one's focus around one particular, simple detail - especially one knows well - and hang onto it until the vision stabilises. One particular such detailed sensation is distinctly present throughout all of the moments. The familiar stench. That damp, thick, sharp smell of sloth and decay permeates almost every moment throughout the vision. It's been only a couple of days since Rhistel has had the pleasure. Minauros, again.

Suddenly easier than ever the vision smooths down into a comfortable pace, images sharpen, sounds clears and sensations become discernable. Still far exceeding the typical strength of the spell, still realistic to the point it supercedes - for the duration of the spell - contact with any reality around Rhistel, but managable.

What Rhistel sees is rather odd. New. The vision is seen as through somebody else's eyes, some vastly different creature's - one that does not perceive the world like Rhistel is used to.

He is in a hall. Every physical object, every material thing he can note is sort of greyed out, transparent maybe. He can't quite see through them, observe what's behind them, and he does note every detail, every shape, every colour sharply like he would normally. Only they are like a shadow, secondary to what's beyond them, what cannot be seen by the naked eye. To magic, spirits, energy. He can see all those. Everything physical is like this invisible world's pitiful reflection.

Right before him he can see a red skinned woman with horns and wings covered in black feathers. A lascivious beauty, but that is not why it is a breathtaking sight. Inside the mundane, material vessel there is a storming whirlpool of living energies knotted together intricately to form the woman's essence. An infinite of weightlessly fluid orbs, emanating brilliance in all colours Rhistel knows and some he would not suspect even existed, and milky stripes of dissolved spiritual energy, dance mesmerisingly in an ever moving calleidoscope.

When he looks long enough, when he focuses on particular areas - congregations of colours or shapes, Rhistel notes in himself something alien - feelings, emotions that appear seemingly out of nowhere. He is furious, he would right now crush something! No, not anymore. He looks away and he's just sad. He hates something. Just doesn't quite know what. Or maybe fears it. It is pretty scary. It's... evil. It's wrong. It's WRONG. What if - ? Take it away! TAKE IT AWAY!

It takes a moment to understand: though he feels all that as though it was "his", or rather, the creature's whose eyes he's been looking through; there is a clear distinction. It helps that the vision is seen from this entity's perspective, their being used to it helps Rhistel get a hold of this shock easily enough. Once he estabilishes control he can peak at what he actually is.

Beneath he sees a metalic, golden skin on a lush, feminine form. Chains covered in magic dampening seals carve out of the flesh. The pain is intensive, and even though Rhistel too feels it with all accuracy, he somehow finds "himself" welcoming it. Revering even, spiritually, as though it was some sacred epiphany.

Rhistel hears the red fiendess before him speak.


"...and as though this pathetic display of sheer incompetance, after all the shame her failure has costed us, as though the disgrace of it was not enough... "



* * *



The vision nearly ends and Rhistel has witnessed through Maraphiel's eyes - and indeed, skin - every moment of the court martial preceedings from where the vision started to the point her essence is sucked right into the black sapphire vial that Alecto has imprisoned her in. Then there is nothing. A silent, mysterious void. As though nothing else could be "transmitted" after crossing that border.

The blackout does not end the vision instantly, it persists just a moment before in one flash the environment changes differently. Rhistel sees through eyes of his own now, he is sure of that somehow, but he is also aware the spell has not terminated just yet. It is a flashback from his past. A familiar room, the living room in the wizard's very own, private paradise.

Rhistel is busy pouring wine. He hears books rumble. Mildly distracted he looks what happened. He catches Maraphiel, this time in her humanlike form of choice, slipping secretely a note into a book she was just putting on shelf. She gives him an embarassed, sheepish grin.


"Keep pouring Rhistel.
This is nothing.
You have to keep pouring.
I'm in control.
Hold that steady.
I'm in control.
Keep pouring..."


Rhistel finds himself compelled to focus on pouring, he had to look that way anyway by now not to spill it. It really is soothing watching that wine swirl in the glasses.

"You are calm.
I'm in control.
You are hypnotised.
I'm in control.
You will not remember this until it is needed.
I'm in control.
You would never think to look in that book there anyway.
I'm in control.
I'm going to count down from five to one, when I say one you will be in control and will have forgotten it all.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One."



The vision ends. When Rhistel tries to remember which book was it, it slips back into his consciousness with surprising ease. The book is titled: 'Finding Faith : Nine Easy Steps to Broaden Spiritual Self-Awareness and Achieve SUCCESS'.




* * *




"::::: The jury will now vote on the motion of no confidence for Sigil Chargé d'Affaires. Those in favour of the motion say aye, those against say nay, those resigning from their right to vote say void. ::::: "


Baron Jerubbaal of the First Circle is tired of politics. Their concern is with Blood War operations and defending incursions, not haggling for bureacratic posts. Like many of Avernus, he has an earned respect for the Blood War veteran, and the work she's done way back in the past for his court. And sure as Hell he does appreciate little joys in life like news of slain mariliths.

"The wrongfully Accused is a decorated war hero. Lieutenant General sacrificed a battle to win a war, subsequently claiming the victory with a force of merely three soldiers. An exemplary application of modern strategems.
Nay."


Burgrave Nimroth of Second Circle has been leaning towards accepting the prosecutor's bribe, but ultimately decides patience is most appropriate. He can tell something is going on here. He is not going to jeopardise his position by making rush judgements.

"We hereby demand that the hitherto confidential documentation is declassified thereunto members of the jury herein. Henceforth, theretofore we are unable to make an informed decision.
Void."


Castellan Gomory of the Third Circle holds his grudge to the end. He'd vote the pit even if the charges were stepping on lawn.

"Failure, insubordination and treason must be punished. To the pit with the traitor!
Aye."


Landgrave Abimelech of the Fourth Circle has no direct interest in the case. Like a mimir, dispassionately, he repeats what he was instructed to say by masters of his own, for reasons that remain elusive to even to him.

"The post was already undeserved and now the charges and the evidence for that is shattering.
Aye."


Margrave Bellerophon of the Fifth Circle votes in accordance with the stygian politics of neutrality. The middle circle is between them all. Last they want is to be caught up in a struggle they do not even have a stake in.

"Both sides made strong arguments and it is impossible to make a judgement without further investigation.
Void."


Marchioness Enepsigos of the Sixth Circle too continues in accordance with the politics of her house. The Malbogian approach is to take the Canian side whenever they and Maladominians are in conflict, almost literally squeezing their shared, direct competitor.

"The Accused has a point that this trial is nothing but mockery. Based off a few lies from the competition, aimed at she who brought us many victories. You are paralysing a key strategic project. Stop this at once.
Nay."


Viscount Tiberon of the Seventh Circle, Alecto's direct superior, a silver tongued mastermind of many of Malagard's intrigues, and the main instigator of this trial, has but one simple goal to this, and that is to have the Sigil project handed over into his hands.

"We must have the bigger picture in mind. The project is delayed for a good reason. We cannot allow to be set back by inadequate leadership. Some would consider the mistakes minor, but ask yourself if such a key strategic project can suffer from anything short of excellence. Our job is to demand that excellence, and enforce it if need be. This is the moment the need came to be.
Aye."


Marquis Virgil of the Eigth Circle, Maraphiel's direct superior, vassal of the court of Mephistar known to a select few to run a number of operations from behind the scenes, too has a simple goal set before him. It is not the first time he is defending his candidate before this jury. He does not intend on it being the last.

"The big picture is that the instability caused by these preceedings is already costing us more than the all losses altogether claimed in the charges. All the actions of the Accused were fully authorised by representatives of this council and executed as per exact wording of the orders. It follows that the grounds are insuffucient to infer punishable offense.
Nay."


Count Tacitae of the Ninth Circle, the president of the jury, also has one, simple priority. Surprisingly Nessians do not compete for the ownership of the project, leaving Canians and Maladominians to wrestle for it. His only concern is that the strongest side wins the trial, for they will be for certain the best suited candidate for the position. Since the strong do not generally need help, the vote can only be...


"::::: Void. ::::: "

"::::: Vote count: three for, three against, three void. Result: unresolved. ::::: "

"::::: The second hearing will now begin. Bring in the accused. ::::: "


No one is particularly surprised with such a result and the judges get ready for another round of bureacratic torment. The looming, rusted, dreadful chains emerge above from thick irony dust clouds above, pulling a massacred corpse of the animal on the scene. There is an uproar among the courtiers. Where is the accused?
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Serena
Posts: 85
Joined: Wed Feb 26, 2020 2:48 pm

Posted by Serena »


Eyes slowly regaining focus on his material surrounding, despite the weakness setting in with the end of the spell, the half drow soon found himself springing to his feet and heading hastily toward his desk, as if his life depended on reaching it. Few strides, enough to be able to get a hold of the small trashcan in the corner, and then, with all the composure the case allowed, he went to throw up the meager content of his stomach over the few scrapped documents already inside the container, groaning then in displeasure as he slowly leaned against the table and then slid on the floor, sitting.

"I am so going to have her eat that book next time I see her," he muttered to himself, tiredly and with little intent, setting the trashcan aside and clearly deciding he was going to rest there until his body was settled again.

He knew it was going to take him some time to process the information he had gotten, even more to figure out what to do with them, but he at least knew where to start, for now: broadening spiritual self-awareness.
Of course she had to hide such a book from him, otherwise the first thing he'd have done would have probably been wondering how it ended up in his bookshelf and throwing it away...

He allowed himself few more moments, and then pushed himself back to his feet and headed to the door.
"I am not feeling well, I need to leave." He offered to his secretary as he headed away, not giving her time to actually reply, but letting the tale-telling look of someone who had just throw up speak for itself about what his current physical condition might be.
Who knew, maybe an additional rumour could only serve him well, since the others seemed to be working better than he anticipated...

For now, however, he had a book to collect.
"Hand me my shovel, I'm going in!"

Plays: Aidan Rhistel - Factor and Law Representative of the Fated
Feel free to reach to me IC for enlisting or general faction rp
Slayer of Love
Posts: 65
Joined: Tue Mar 17, 2020 4:54 pm

Posted by Slayer of Love »


The book is authored by a "Phil Emara", a "mindfulness and self-realisation technique expert with uncounted years of tradition" as the back of the cover has it. Rhistel spots it quickly to be a simple anagram. When he browses the pages, filled mostly with motivational articles on self-development, he notes a lot of them contain the number nine, sometimes on the header or in the text, sometimes hidden a drawing or entwined in some non-obvious way. One page has mentions of 9 highlighted all over and together they form a pentacle spanning the whole page. Another few simple seals are disguised that way in the text. Disturbingly the pattern persists through all the pages, symbols of diabolic occult smuggled between the lines. Rhistel realises the manual has more to do with basics of witchcraft than self-development.

What matters though is not the diablery hints for beginners, but the note stuck at the back, behind the book's cover. Unlike the book's quackery, this appears to be serious, dark, high magic.

Maraphiel, in the note she hid for Rhistel, wrote: Ingredients:
- one medium-sized, at least 50% gold, holy symbol of a celestial deity
- seven flies
- three blackthorn leaves
- three withered lilies (no roots)
- three night hag's nails
- one unicorn

Equipment:
- mortar
- small or medium sized cauldron
- spoon
- pastry brush
- ceremonial dagger
- heavy duty hammer
- altar unholy blessed by a dark priest

Method:
1. Crush the holy symbol with a hammer until powdered.
2. Separate wings from seven flies and discard the corpses.
3. Crush the blackthorn leaves, withered lilies and nighthag's nails in the mortar finely.
4. Place the unicorn on the altar.
5. Using the ceremonial dagger, gather five ounces of unicorn's blood into the cauldron.
6. Mix in the remaining ingredients uttering the below phase.
Image
7. Simmer until thickness.
8. Using the mixture paint the below sigil.
Image
9. Alecto shall be summoned into her prison.


Remember, with great power comes great responsibility.
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