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Established February 2010
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* Plot Information for Dhemlan, Kaeleer

Dhemlan has become a land divided. The corruption that Witch’s Purge wiped out in the rest of the Realms was preserved by the well-meaning sacrifice of the territory’s Ebon Gray Queen. As such, the corruption here has only intensified. The tension between the Landen and the Blood who were meant to care for them is fast reaching a boiling point.
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Author Topic: Faith in All the Wrong Places  (Read 698 times)

Description: Attn: Carmen (Same time as Gala)

Offline Cristóbal De la Cruz

  • Character Account
    • broken2ss
    • warlord
    • greendescent
    • Role

      First Circle

    • Faction

      Portland Province

    • Territory

      Little Terreille

    • Character Sheet


    • OOC


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Faith in All the Wrong Places
« on: Nov 01, 18, 01:27:51 PM »
Time seemed to slow as the returning prodigal son of Dhemlan danced with the holiest of women in the middle of the dance floor. While the Gala of Queens proceeded, Cristobal De la Cruz focused solely on the radiant gaze of Her Holiness, Lady Carmen Villendra, a smile blooming beneath the traitor's beard that had been meticulously groomed and trimmed. To hear such sweet words from such a beautiful woman was its own gift. While Cristobal held a deep love for his Queen, he himself was a creature of his own pride and vanity. To be treated as such an auspicious character when the truth was that he was a liar, criminal, and spy, was a heady wine to drink.

"Few things like anything in Dhemlan indeed, Your Holiness." Cristobal offered with a grin as he lingered close to the High Priestess of Dhemlan. "The food, the drink, the sights, smells, and most of all the company." His eyes twinkled in mirth, his smile broadening just a touch.

"Were it not for my love for Lady Gold, I would have offered to step in as ambassador between the two Territories long ago. I have great affection for Little Terreille; it has charms unlike anywhere else in the Realm of Shadow, but it is not Dhemlan. Goth forgets its history and seeks to reinvent itself every forty years or so. Every generation seeks to build upon the other, erasing the past and paving a new future, but here.."

The Warlord paused in his dance long enough to look up at the ceiling, the walls, of one of the oldest buildings in Dhemlan. "We remember who we are and who we were. It is not a mark of shame, but of pride."

Returning his gaze wholly to the High Priestess, he continued in their slow dance. Like her his focus narrowed to solely but her: Her mannerisms, her expressions, her psychic shifts. While Lady Villendra did so for a lack of concern for her safety, Cristobal did it solely to gain insight into the woman who shared the dance with him.

"I am still proud to be of Dhemlan. So much so that any opportunity I can find to help the Territory of my birth, I take advantage of.

Will you be sending another delegation to Goth? Or do you believe the atmosphere too unstable to allow for it?"

Offline Carmen Villendra

  • Character Account
    • ss2opal
    • priestess
    • Role

      High Priestess

    • Faction

      Cáthedra Abyssum

    • Territory

      Dhemlan, Kaeleer

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    • Embrace eternity.

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Re: Faith in All the Wrong Places
« Reply #1 on: Mar 06, 19, 04:23:11 PM »
Carmen's laugh was light and silky, flowing easily from lips painted carmine when Cristobal commented the desirability of the company found in Dhemlan.

"Ahh, Lord del Cruz," she cooed, mirthful and light. "Would that I had a half-dozen men who could turn words as effortlessly as you. The Cáthedra would not have coffers big enough to hold all the tithes. How did we ever allow you to escape the arms of Dhemlan?" Her tease was light-hearted, and Cristobal's subsequent assertion of his love for his Lady seemed to sate the Priestess' query easily. She fell quiet, watching him while he spoke of the differences between the two Territories, and when he was finished she gave another delighted little laugh.

"Well said, my Lord," she commended him, smiling brightly. Cristobal's scrutiny would assure him that the woman before him was enjoying both the dance and the conversation. She was a woman who enjoyed flattery and flirtation without letting it mislead her, and there was an intelligence behind her eyes that lent sincerity to the way she'd praised his summation of Dhemlan. She was a passionate woman, and much of that passion was wrapped up in pride for her Territory and her people.

The warlord's query concerning Little Terreille's replacement nuncio drew her a little bit out of that celebratory mirth. Her smile didn't fade entirely, but it was clear the question had given her reason to assess a different mindset than the party-going woman who'd simply been enjoying the dance. She considered it, and let that thoughtfulness show in her expression for a quiet beat.

"I've not yet decided, I will admit," she told him, her voice a little softer. "Our nuncios provide an invaluable service to us... but Alejandra was a friend of mine. Her loss still stings, moreso because I know how these things work," she said, pausing to allow her smile to turn a little rueful, as though sharing an unspoken truth with him. "Dhemlan will have its pound of flesh, I am certain, but even as much as I love my Territory, the recompense it may receive for its loss will be little comfort to those of us who will mourn Lady Ruiz. Sending another of our sisters into that place so soon... I cannot decide whether it would be brave or foolish." She paused long enough for a swell in the music, and the requisite, gracefully turning spin it required. When she settled against his arms once more she was back to a slightly lighter smile.

"What would you suggest, Lord de la Cruz? Do you feel Goth is now stable enough to provide safety for one of my Priestesses? Or is this Lord Black likely to cause us more heartache before he is through?"