The Reforged Blades

*Nimiane
Posts: 347
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *Nimiane »



The final piece of the puzzle had become known; the final jagged segment, veiled and shrouded by scarlet protection. A snake that whispered in the ear's of allies and pitched red to grey at the crossroad of the wolf's jaws. The Taigh, the very Hive itself - collateral in grasp for power under guise of 'justice'. The unsuspecting made target, intent hidden behind falsities and deceptions, wrought with insecurity. Cloak and dagger. A thumb in every pie, dual syllables upon lips parted by forked tongue. Outcome may have been deflected with evasive steps into depths of the underground, yet hissed proposal was no less understood with the neutrality of silence ... nor forgotten.

*Nimiane
Posts: 347
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *Nimiane »



Over recent weeks, activity had increased within the Taigh, though it, in itself, was not solely due to the official influx of newer members. What little space remained in the barracks had found itself claimed by no less than five former slaves over the course of multiple cycles. Where they had come from, and why, wasn't clear at this point - she would have to ask Dace about that - only the knowledge that aid was needed and refuge was sought. What had started as the simple act of providing shelter, food and drink had slowly developed with circumstantial change, and Odette found herself taking it upon herself to tend to those within the walls on a more personal level.

Ear was lent to troubles as opportunity presented, words spoken to soothe traumas of times past without disregarding what was a very real and idiosyncratic pain. Were it that words would not come in response, then the simple linger of presence, a show of silent support, remained with tend to culmination of mental, physical and emotional health. In addition, each and every body was given simple, but clean attire and full access to the amenities of the longhouse whilst under careful assessment of the Bleaker and the protection of the Reforged Blades.


*Neethanial
Posts: 231
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *Neethanial »


Kriegan warns the newcomers that theft of his drink will result in forced arm wrestling... in their sleep... without their arms. He might have smiled at the warning. It might have been a menacing grin. Who knows?
*Nimiane
Posts: 347
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *Nimiane »



Upon the back of a large wolf, bristling coat as white as snow, the woman's body entered the hall with the careful maneuver of four paws. With the carry of lifeless form, so too came small group led by Silvanesti with solemn expressions painted upon the canvas of various features. Any familiar with the Hive would identify her easily, even through the free-falling tendrils of golden hair and the mix of bloodied poison upon bronzed lips turned pale. Many came and went through the doors in the hours that followed.

Odette, herself, retained a calmth even into death; physical form released from the senselessness of life, unreflective of soul's warped journey into the realm beyond. Laid to rest within the four walls of the Taigh, there remained questions and answers unfulfilled. The Mimir Killer having claimed it's latest victim through the fear of another, questions of involvement paled in comparison to that which kept the bleaker's soul from returning to her body. News passes from one member of the Blades to the next, the atmosphere heavy.


*Mausman
Posts: 486
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *Mausman »


Sorrow

*Kelth regarded the lifeless body of his beloved Huntress. An odd serenity lingered in the room, though anyone with decent intelligence would easily pick up on the circle of icy calmth around the warrior. His jawline expressed tenseness, it's muscles rippled every now and then, along with the sound of swallowing back the burning pain in his chest.

Silent tears cascaded down his cheeks, as he tentatively approached the body. In silence, he picked up the lifeless form of Odette, not caring the slightest about those who were around him. He proceeded to lay a gentle kiss on her forehead as he carried her body in his arms, as he began kicking his singular chair near the hearth in their living quarters.

The broken warrior sat down, as he rocked back and forth gently, tenderly. His tears dropped onto the Huntress' own countenance, as he softly hummed a soothing tune. It was his tune back when the man still enchanted items of power. Despite the gentleness in his ways in that moment, people would clearly know to keep their distance, something about his presence gave this off easily, lest one wanted to risk being ripped apart.

The shattered warrior softly began to speak*

"R'member this 'xact hearth, love? I 'ad it transferred from th' previous house, so many memories..."

*The warrior sniffled, as he began to softly sing,, resting his forehead forward against the huntress', his black manes falling foward, shielding their faces from those around them*

"If ye leave this verse b'fore me
I promise to ye I shall keep
I won't fall in love with another one
O'er ye restin' place, I shall weep

If ye leave before me
I promise I ne'er will tell
About all the things we talked about
Our dark secrets I'll keep well


Aren't ye glad, there ain't nobody listening?
Aren't ye glad, that no one seems to care what we do?
Aren't ye glad there ain't no one here to tell us what's right or wrong?
While we sit and we talk about nothing"

*The warrior then finally broke down, weeping softly as he held the woman's body close in an embrace*
*Xndar
Posts: 282
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *Xndar »


Home.

A swath of mutilated, butchered and otherwise obliterated baatezu and tanar'ri foolish enough to cross her path littered the trail between Pazunia's portal to Sigil and an obscure cavern portal deep within one of the Plain of Infinite Portal's rocky plateaus. But as the darkness and silence of her home plane wrapped her in its familiar and ever-unsettling embrace, the incoherent rage let loose after many turns finally abates.

This is Shaddonon, the layer whose essence runs in her veins, and it fills her with its calm, still, murderous intent.

Eyes rapidly adjusting to the total darkness as only a native's could, she picks her way through the midnight forest. She takes great satisfaction at slipping unnoticed beneath a pair of sentry Bar-Lguras, following the ever-present primal tug at her internal compass that marked the location of Darktree. An outsider might spend eons combing through the eternal forests of Shaddonon without finding more than a few ragged frontier towns filled with outcast demons, other fiends and even the rare mortal, all looking for somewhere to hide; for the true heart of the plane, and the capitol of Princess Rhyxali, never bordered the same patch of woods twice.

Vherr would always know where it was though, for her essence was bound to the plane's heart as closely as any shadow demon. Thus she arrived at a wide ravine gouged out of the forest. Massive trees grew up out of the endless depths of the ravine, their clawed limbs weaving together into dense, convoluted platforms upon which the city of Darktree sprawled.

On either side of the long vine-bridge stretching between the cliff and the city, a pair of shadow demons stalk toward her, demanding her business in Darktree.

"Delivering souls and dark to Viractuth's library." She replied in Abyssal before sweeping past them and across the bridge. She knew that her father might have the information she sought, and might demand less, but there was far more risk in that route. Viractuth would know what she needed to know, if any being in the Abyss did.

She made her way up the uneven spiral stairs wrapping around a particularly wide tree like a creeper vine, before entering the cavernous hole bored into a particularly gnarled knot jutting out from its trunk. Thousands upon millions of bookshelves climb up and tumble down the hollow sides of the tree trunk, with billions of scrolls, tomes, folios and letters crammed here, there, and even into nooks in the bark itself.

"What do you want, little shadowling?" Hisses a deep female voice. A mailith with onyx skin and bright green eyes slithers rapidly down a nearby vine and coils on the entrance platform.

Vherr approaches a nearby desk and sets down a few soul prisms by way of initial payment/bribe.

"I have some dark to share, and souls to give. In return, I'd humbly request information regarding the whereabouts, activities and secrets of the beblith, Darkweaver, known to be associated also with the Plane of Shadow."

She avoided giving her name, as to provide such to a darkmonger of Viractuth's renown would be a grave and likely lethal insult. Assuming Viractuth is inclined to barter, she'd offer knowledge of a high-profile lich's disruptive activities in Sigil, as well as their motives, as well as highly detailed and rare information regarding Rakshasan methods of soul consumption.
*Taurus Daggerknight
Posts: 449
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *Taurus Daggerknight »


A letter arrives at the Tiagh, addressed to Odette.
wrote: Odette,

I hope this letter finds you well.  We've not had much of a chance to speak since your return, and should remedy this soon. On that subject, we need to discuss certain issues pertaining what happened in the bazaar. Please let me know when we can speak at the earliest conveniance.


SIncerely,

Dace
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