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* Plot Information for Askavi Terreille

For nearly two centuries Askavi floundered, brought low in the wake of the Red Queen’s war. The institution of one court with its Two Queens and the end of restitution payments promises a brighter future. Still, War knocks on the Eyrien’s door from all sides and the people fight against the need to meet it.
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Author Topic: The Court of Twisted Visions  (Read 89 times)

Description: Attn: Miraeian

Offline Drakkar Estaroth

  • Character Account
    • broken2bo
    • wp
    • reddescent
    • Role

      Warlord Prince of Askavi

    • Faction

      The Blood Seekers

    • Territory

      Askavi, Terreille

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      [Link]

    • OOC

      Gavin

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The Court of Twisted Visions
« on: Oct 03, 17, 12:49:11 AM »
Late Summer, Early 192 AP - Gravesend


The planning of a war needed intelligence. More than intelligence, it needed to know how the terrain could, or would, change during the planning and execution stages. He would commit himself, and his men, to the oncoming war but he needed as much certainty as he could obtain. The other War Camp leaders were on board despite the issues logistical issues that this campaign presented. Drakkar was consistently humbled by the faith that his people placed in him. While Illyrian worked with the other Province Queens and leaders to feed and heal their land, Drakkar’s would see to it that they were safe and secure enough to do so.

He walked down the halls of Gravesend, wings encircling him like a cloak of night. His second-in-command, Vannevar Raskin, walked beside him and one half-step behind, denoting their ranks as Blood Seekers and as the Warlord Prince of Askavi and his right hand. Drakkar’s expression was stony. His body had finally healed from the wound he’d taken during the attempt on his life some months prior. That was the least of his worries, though.

Kaderian had not returned with Tavar.

There was still no word on the delegation that left for Hayll and Drakarr suspected foul play.

The Jhinka hammered Black Forest harder than ever.

Illyrian still wasn’t speaking to him.

If his mood was dour these days, he had his reasons, none of which he was likely to share. Right now, he needed answers to the major issue facing his people. So it was that he reached out, as civilly as possible, to the Head of the Coven, Lady Larethar, who often worked from Gravesend. While Drakkar trusted few of the people here, he realized that he needed help in order to make sure that the war effort was successful.

He arrived at the appointed hour in the Court Library, choosing a neutral location to meet the Black Widow. He could have requested her presence elsewhere, but Vannevar suggested catering to the woman’s ego, just a little. She held Illyrian’s trust and, if Drakkar ever intended to rule in more than just name, he needed more allies than the leaders of the Hunting and War Camps.

Lady Larethar, thank you for meeting with me.” Drakkar said, offering a nod of respect to the Head of the Coven and hoping that this meeting went as well as his meeting with Lady Ruslana.

There are matters regarding Askavi’s future that I’d discuss with you. Shall we sit?” Drakkar asked, gesturing to a nearby table of hard, dark oak.

Offline Miraeian Larethar

  • Character Account
    • white2rose
    • bw
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      Head of the Hourglass Coven

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      Territory Court

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      Askavi

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      Haloriel

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Re: The Court of Twisted Visions
« Reply #1 on: Nov 01, 17, 11:14:22 PM »
Locale: 192, Late Summer. Gravesend, Askavi-Terreille.

Though Miraeian Larethar possessed the lightest of possible full descent Jewel sets, there was no question even considering that momentary segue of thought that she was a very, very powerful woman. Especially in Askavi where so many had lost what was their own. For herself, the Coven Lead had been in labour during the unexpected Purge, thus even the instinct to reach for her Jewels had been long dealt with months prior; a child was too great a blessing to dare take such a risk, and given exhaustion in those moments it was rather much a moot point.

Yet, the largess she possessed among her surviving family was that very nature that kept her more calm and at ease than many, many of her Caste would have been to that degree. The pure White silk embroidered with delicate hints of Rose thus, very well suited the very tall, long legged Eyrien woman. Standing to just a little shy of six feet, and feet shod in elegant yet minimalist heels brought the Head of the Coven to a reasonable six foot one, so she believed, though most men shorter than her would have vehemently disagreed.

Given that Miraeian knew whom she was hosting shortly and the delicate dance that would be required even from her in speaking to him, despite the delight she took in needling most Warlord Princes just enough to keep them on their toes, she'd had a reasonable light repast prepared by one a few of her Jeweless ladies (what a Warlord Prince would consider light at least). Thus, there was no scent present in the the alcove of the Court Library save for her own - she'd asked that all psychic scents - and particularly male ones - be cleansed from the space. With the number of sons she'd raised and brothers once held very, very close, the Black Widow knew her way around a male regardless of the Queen he might have belonged to.

A table had been pulled to the centre of the alcove, and though he might have been broken back to the power of a Blood Opal, only perhaps a Landen wouldn't have been able to sense the terror that Drakkar Estaroth had been once. Still was, in many ways. Darkly lashed golden eyes settled upon the man in a gentle interest, before she smoothed the silk of her gown neatly. Given the matron that she was, and grandmother, even, she attired herself to the part; delicate combs that held back the torrent of pin straight black hair, with a few Widows Webs giving a little of a curl upon the ends.

Small buttons held her gown closed to the upper edge of her neckline, while her sleeves closed in a warm, feminine fashion to her wrists; only the back of her gown was fully open so that her wings were not confined in any way. She enjoyed the hint of colour upon her long, wickedly curved nails in match to the Rose embroidery, but no cosmetic, Craft or otherwise touched her face. Lady Larethar had never needed it, and none of the men she'd permitted to father children on her had preferred it, thus, a tender consensus.

Miraeian waved her right hand toward the table Prince Estaroth had indicated, unfolding the soft wisps of a sight and scent spell; she was very gifted at them, and hiding a mere platter of food was well beneath the practise it took with webs to hide all of Gravesend. A spiced tea laced with the Craft of one of her own brews so subtle one could hardly even be bothered by the presence of the fullness of a White Jewel was first apparent.

Rice rolls stuffed with hearty meat and edible whether cold or hot, though these were just shy of the warmth of an oven; soft napkins stitched with Craft so that rather than merely wipe, these cleansed the hands in full. It was plain enough they belonged to the woman herself, the tea service and the single, elegant and simplistic platter by the way she stepped forward and poured a cup of tea, then a second one.

Most might have asked the Warlord Prince of Askavi if he were hungry or thirsty, but the head of the coven had no interest in his snarling mood, thus, sought to fix some of the problem. If there was one thing about a Dark Jeweled Warlord Prince, was that the base impulses possessed were near always needing satiating, and if not, seeing a woman stuff herself and delight in her own tending would indubitably be enough to turn down the man's normal ire to a point that they could at least speak without snarling.

Rather than bother with words, Miraeian sat down in one of the chairs, using a feather light touch of Craft to pull out the seat with a back neatly curved to deal with her wings in comfort. The same soft whisper of White Jewel strength pushed the richly spiced cup of tea toward the Warlord Prince. Despite him requesting the meeting, there was a second reason for her bringing food and drink that was more complicated than most might pay heed to.

Firstly, it was her best tea service set that typically Miraeian would have only used for family. Second it had been enhanced with just enough power at the Rose rank, enough that it would leave her baser instincts as a Black Widow gently blunted, and that any mental anguish or stress the slightly older male possessed might not choke him as much. As such, in two ways did she choose to make her position as outside of the Court, but also a major power, but as well at once recognise him, though she needn't have. It was plain enough the man that approached her was not only hungry for war, but power too as much as a man could claim.

It just made matters, and technically dealing with a man that might have considered her his enemy, less troublesome.

There was a sense of the Black Widow's long legs beneath all of the silk that hid most of her from eyes that might pry, but no more than that. Lady Larethar prided herself on seeming almost chaste for one of her Caste, save for the delicate hint of warm, golden brown ankle and the way her heeled sandals made her skin seem all the more soft and well cared for. It reminded men, the way that she carried herself that she was not one that existed for them to have unless she gave the word.

So most either treated her with a cautious respect, or spent their time being tormented over the hints of herself she allowed visible. She suspected that Prince Estaroth and the Queen were not on speaking terms. One hardly needed to be in service to the woman, or at least very loyal to tell that much.

Despite how this particular Warlord Prince had gained power having been a terrible accident, she knew that enough people blamed him for it as much as those that were stupid enough to snicker behind his back. Lady Miraeian did neither, instead truly understanding the grievous loss, but also, knowing full well what being on a Killing Field could mean for anyone present. Brothers could kill each other, and so too, could best friends, so near strangers that served on opposite ends of the Court, was entirely plausible, to her.

"So. You want to know how much you as well as all Askavi stands to lose as well as win, if Askavi did indeed push for full out war, perhaps not as of old, but close enough that those that were born after the Purge, might push back hard enough to destabilize everything because they do not understand what we were once, and lost all. Because knowing the Price of anything is the true value of words in any Court."

A smile flickered over full lips; her voice was as rich as mead, both polite and direct to the point as a knife to the ribs. "I suspect you were thinking I would attempt to flatter you in someway with speech, rather than direct action, Prince Estaroth?" The cup of her own spiced tea held steam that rose slowly above it, but Miraeian sipped slowly in either case. She could handle the heat.

Offline Drakkar Estaroth

  • Character Account
    • broken2bo
    • wp
    • reddescent
    • Role

      Warlord Prince of Askavi

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      The Blood Seekers

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      Askavi, Terreille

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      Gavin

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Re: The Court of Twisted Visions
« Reply #2 on: Nov 02, 17, 12:30:37 AM »
Drakkar was glad for both the attention that Lady Larethar paid to his Caste and the direct speech that she engaged in. Gravesend, to his mind, was full of phonies and fakes smiling in his face while plotting his death. A few of them had even attempted to kill him in order to avenge Eristovar Errsa or “free” Illyrian from his control. The notion made Drakkar ill. Lady Kriat held his leash and commanded his soul. Despite his station as the Warlord Prince of Askavi, ruling at her side, Drakkar recognized his Queen’s importance to his life and his place within hers. More than once, he wished Eristovar had never existed. Without his death between them, his relationship with Illyrian would no doubt be better.

Oh no, Lady Larethar. You are one of perhaps four people in all of Gravesend that I wouldn’t expect to deal in false pleasantries. I appreciate that. I would prefer to speak plainly and know that we cannot find common ground than bury our issues. Nothing is solved that way.” Drakkar said, greeting her in accordance with Protocol. He would obey the laws of the Blood, if only to show the males of Gravesend how to act.

You’re correct about what I want to know, but some things have changed since my initial request to meet with you.” Drakkar said, keeping his eyes focused on Miraeian and not the flashes of skin that distracted so many other males who found themselves in her presence. The Head of the Coven was a dangerous woman long before her jewels factored into the equation. Drakkar stood deeper in the Abyss than she, but she was whole and had the full range of her power available to her. Dismissing her for her standing in the Abyss was a fool’s move, one that Drakkar would not make.

He sat and partook of the light repast she’d prepared. She’d not needed to show him this kind of respect and Drakkar surmised that the Black Widow was attempting to avoid the sharper edges of his temper and keep this meeting civil. He did not want to be her enemy. His mentor, Valar, did not trust Black Widows at all, not since the a member of that Caste told the former leader of the  Blood Seekers that he and his son would wage war upon each other before the end of his life.

Now that he knew Tavar was alive, somewhere in Terreille, Drakkar wondered what else he might glean from their visions. He finished the bite of food in front of him before speaking in earnest.

War is coming to Askavi, possibly from more than one direction. But my concern has now turned inward, to our own lands. The Jhinka have...changed somehow.” he said, unable to find a better way to describe it. “They’re smarter and more coordinated. They’re displaying an understanding of strategy and tactics that they’ve never shown before.

Despite my ever-present desire to burn Hayll to ashes, I recognize that the survival of Askavi is paramount. I’ve lost friend, parents and brothers to the Great War. I lost my wife and child to Hayll’s Cowardice. I’ve lost even more to the Purge.
” Drakkar said, looking down at the table.

My point is that Hayll and the rest of the Terreille may be here someday. If they come here seeking trouble, they will find it. But they will not find a land of corpses and parched earth. To that end, I’m considering paths I never would have.

So yes, I need to know if what’s being planned will see us through the hard times. I need to know that we can defeat the Jhinka once and for all. I have come to you because I respect your skill. We are a warrior people, Lady Larethar.

But I recognize now that we need new ways to fight.
” Drakkar said, leaning back in his chair. He resisted the urge to drum his fingers upon the table while he waited for her to weigh his words and dismiss him or agree to help him.

Offline Miraeian Larethar

  • Character Account
    • white2rose
    • bw
    • Role

      Head of the Hourglass Coven

    • Faction

      Territory Court

    • Territory

      Askavi

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      [Link]

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      Haloriel

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Re: The Court of Twisted Visions
« Reply #3 on: Dec 06, 17, 03:58:26 AM »
Interest stirred in Miraeian's gaze when the Bloodseeker not only partook of her offering, but listened. It caused the woman to immediately reevaluate not only his standing as the Warlord Prince of Askavi, but as well a man that understood where the gains and lack had fallen in his life. She also, knew the look of a Bonded male, whether or not he might have liked or enjoyed his Queen to the fullest degree; it was only natural for Eyriens to sometimes disagree with one another. Thus, it was a grave sympathy for the dealings he had to face, but one that acknowledged the man's strength in turn. "I do try, indeed, and always have. My loyalties might be with the Lady Illyrian now in full, but I have always wanted all of our people to be content and happy, as much as we ever could be. I will not lie to your face when we both know I was not always so softhearted."

Note was paid to the fact that Drakkar kept his attention focused on her with respect, which offered a thrill. Technically, it was not required of him to do so. It was well enough plain that she would not forget the fact that he had done as much. She had considered additionally, just what kind of threat that Hayll had toward her home, especially given that her own granddaughter was a baby Queen not yet to her Birthright.

It was enough to want to try to shield all of Askavi from those cruel people that had ground the little that they had left after the war. Even if she understood that it had been started by her people, and some of the disdain was earned, there was no need for its blooming or continuance. "I did remember something about the Jhinka, something I saw, but did not understand terribly well. The vision was full of strangeness, due to the sheer number of reference points. Yet what I think, is that they would need to be attacked at their strongest point paired with the weakest. No differently than our first offensives with the Hayllians. Those were decisive and swift, and were careful to keep our own numbers as unharmed as possible."

Flicking her hair back over her shoulders, Miraeian sipped from the tea cup before her. "More than that, we need for our what few Queens we have, to expand the manner in which they give to the land, with people dedicated to tending it. If we do not feed the people we have, we will lose more, Prince Estaroth. My own heart makes war against itself, in seeing these things. Hayll is not at peace. So the question lies is it worth it to us all, elderly and children alike, to go upon the offensive, or defend what we have left with everything within us."

"I believe the Jhinka act as only is natural, to our weakness. So in showing them we are nothing of the kind with enough force while tending the growth of the land as best we can, it may be some time until we can turn our vision outward." A soft sigh eased from the Seer. "There was a time that I was precisely as hungry for warfare as you often are," she remarked with amusement before waving her hands and pulling together a moving Visual Craft image of her granddaughter. "This little one makes me think otherwise, when paired with my visions shared with my Darker Jewelled sisters of the Hourglass." The delicate wings in the image of her grandchild fluttered, and for long moments Miraeian drank in the sight. It was the smallest bit of hope she had at all.

"But tell me, Prince, what would you have us do in the face of so much loss? I am willing to listen to your thoughts on the matter, truly, and then weave a new web for you, with new information. It is not wrong to wish vengeance, but we must consider how that would be gained. That I do believe very much. Otherwise, I too still have sons that might join the cause, if it turns to be no other path. As much as I wish to care in a majority sense inwardly, I am also not a fool to disregard what you say. A Warlord Prince all but breathes battle, and I have raised enough to remember it."