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Board's Plot: Blood Rites
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Established February 2010
by Jamie, Gina & Bowie.

* Plot Information for Dena Nehele

With the full force of the Guilds at her back, Rilandra Vlas seized the Territory Throne of Dena Nehele. The common born Province Queen now owes allegiance to the Master of the Guilds for his assistance in both securing the throne and securing Darcia Glassade's continual safety. Trapped between the demands of the Guilds and the demands of the Aristos, Riley is struggling to rule, finding the palace more of a cage than she could have dreamed possible.
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Author Topic: if what it is isn't all we are  (Read 95 times)

Description: (derrial) (territory court; a sitting room)

Offline Jeremiah Mercer

  • Character Account
    • yellow2rose
    • bwwp
    • Role

      Queen's Shadow / Steward

    • Faction

      Territory Court

    • Territory

      Dena Nehele

    • Character Sheet


    • OOC

      Rated Em

    • Posts


    • into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely

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if what it is isn't all we are
« on: Jul 20, 19, 12:08:36 AM »
(this thread takes place prior to the birth of rilandra vlas's son in late spring/early summer 194AP.)

There was a calmness to being around the Priest Prince that Jeremiah could appreciate. That or, just perhaps, he was more comfortable with someone who was both a Priest and had been--once upon a time--trained by his mother.

He still didn't think much about searching out that history within the tapestry of a Widow's web. It was not his business, as of now, and he already held a great deal of secrets that were his to keep. More now than ever once he had taken his steps as a Mourning Dove and that was something else altogether. The Guild Master had not called upon him, not as Aleia did, and that was for the best. As many dreams that Jeremiah could touch upon, what knowledge he had gathered, it still did not feel as if it were enough to find the answers he sought.

Some piece of it was missing.

That did not matter at the moment. What did, however, was that he had had Derrial join him for late afternoon tea. With the birth of Riley's child rapidly approaching, the time would come that the Priest Prince would no longer be required to be so attached to the Territory Court. It was not something that was in particular need of being so. at least not unless that was what the Priest Prince wanted. Jeremiah had not necessarily gone looking to see what the outcome would be. What would be, he knew, would be and there would be no way around.

So without preamble, after their drinks were poured and Jeremiah was stirring a dash of cream into his tea, he spoke.

"If you are not going to be snatched up by the Conclave," said the Black Widow Warlord Prince, "I am quite willing to offer you a more permanent position within the Territory Court." A brief pause, as he explained. "As soon the Queen will give birth and that contract will come to an end." Someone, somewhere, would likely be put off by the fact that he launched right into the point but he was a Black Widow where it mattered and that meant his mouth could--and did--run. Not without thought, no, but certainly without thinking about what the impact and reaction might be.

Offline Derrial Nerezza

  • Character Account
    • pd2sapphire
    • pp
    • Role

      Wandering Priest

    • Territory

      Dena Nehele

    • Character Sheet


    • OOC


    • Posts


    • Don't start nuthin', won't be nuthin'.

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Re: if what it is isn't all we are
« Reply #1 on: Aug 13, 19, 02:18:30 PM »
Derrial had been in the Palace for some time, and he knew that his tenure was coming to a close at the Territory Court.  Riley was about ready to pop at any moment, and her moods of late were a large indicator of that.  He smiled slightly to himself as he perused the shelf of books in the library that held old histories.  He had returned some volumes, and was seeing what else was there.  Derrial was not known as Book to the Shaos just because he had killed someone with one.  He actually liked books, well, these days he did.  Derrial had become interested in history while undergoing his studies to become a Priest.  It was important to know where the Territory had been, so he could have a clear vision about where it was going, and perhaps how best to shepherd it.

He missed Lady Meredith, not so much for her counsel, though that had always been valuable, but for her company.  They could talk and debate over tea for hours if either of them had the time.  Prince Mercer had a similar mind he fond, though he had yet to engage the Black Widow Warlord Prince in any such length philosophical discourse.  Black Widows saw things, Derrial knew that much, and Jeremiah was far too astute to always be polite about what he chose to overlook.  It was easier not to answer questions, than it was to answer them.  The Priest Prince was close to a Queen now, closer than he had ever been in the whole of his life, and he found comfort and value in that.  Riley was possibly unique in Dena Nehele, if not in her Caste, it had been easy to respect her, and easier still to like her.  It was rare that he looked at his hands in her company, and remembered the blood that was on them.  Small favors, he supposed.

There was no tradition of redemption when it came to The Abyss or Mother Night.  He had done a terrible thing that would only demand a Price, in the long run, one that he would never pay because of all the circumstances around it.  He wanted to balance the scales, he needed to, and it seemed to him that the Darkness provided.  Healer Ariake was an interesting case, the problems of the Territory somehow encased in a slender frame.  Even if his time at the Palace had to end, he would ask if he could come and visit with the Healer, whose purpose had been twisted and bent so harshly he barely recognized the virtues of his Caste, and the need to be at peace with that part of his nature.  Derrial wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that the Black Jeweled Healer needed him in particular, but he did need someone like him, someone that believed in the essential truth of The Blood, The Abyss, Mother Night, all of it.  His perspective might be more helpful, but it was hardly a requirement.

Derrial glanced out the windows, and gauged the time.  It was time to make for the Steward’s office, likely for a status report on the Queen.  Jeremiah and he had become more comfortable with each other in the time he had been there.  They had socialized because they had lived in the same place, but those had been casual affairs.  He genuinely liked the Steward, for all that he could be genuinely unsettling at time.  Warlord Princes were dangerous, adding Black Widow was pushing lamp oil almost too close to the flames.  Despite his concerns about Jeremiah simply absorbing his secrets from thin air, he did enjoy the man’s company, he just had not had ample enough opportunity—and that was probably his fault, for all of the reasons he’d already considered.  Derrial shook his head, and made his way to Jeremiah’s office without any additional books, he would return when there was more time.

Soon enough, he was seated across from Jeremiah, and after the needs of Protocol were met, he expected to be told about the details of his eventual exit from the Court.  They enjoyed a companionable silence as tea was made, Derrial having his with a dollop of honey.  He was surprised by the Steward’s words, his tea cup making an uncharacteristic click against the saucer.  ”Oh.  No, I do not think the Conclave is looking to snatch me up, well, no more than it has.  They were aware of me, of course, but taking over that temple in the city made them more so, and then coming here.”  He drank a bit of tea, looking thoughtful.  It was an old conversational gambit, a bit of silence, a bit of false consideration when the decision had already been made.  Old habits.  ”I would like to stay.  You have young Priestesses here that could benefit from the voice of experience, even if it is a Male’s, and I would miss Riley and yourself.”  He drank more tea, ”And I think Healer Ariake and I have more to discuss.”

He would have to tell Raluca that he had cemented a place for himself.  He would have to remember that even probationary, if he still was, he remained Shaos.  He could do that.  He did not expect murder from Raluca.  She was capable, but too smart and reasonable for murder to be the first choice--or he'd be dead already.