Shiva can sense the inhuman nature of the other dancers in the room as she moves amongst them. Some with an icy pallor to their skin, and a swift and languid grace. Others hot-blooded, fierce and fast. All of them, young, dancing close, and writhing up and down each other's bodies. They watch her with appreciation, speculation, and predatory hunger.
A pale, feminine silhouette stalks towards the tiefling as she sways back and forth. As it draws closer, Shiva can make out dark eyes and long black hair, all wrapped up in a velvet package that hugs the form in some places and flows in others.
Behind her, Ling feels somebody take her hand and pull her towards them.
"Don't run off now," the half-elf quips. His face is face is elegant, with high cheekbones and tawny eyes that glitter like chips of amber. An explosion of coloured light illuminates the darkness above, and metallic drops rain down on them. They catch in their hair and shimmer on the skin like quicksilver.
Across the dance floor, Caio's ghost turns to face him with tall horns and blank white eyes. She wears nothing above the waist, but her long copper tresses that cover much of her torso, and her caprine legs are coated in thick brown fur. Twisting back and forth to the music, she beckons to him to come dance.
Caio averts his eyes as they meet the pallid gaze of the... fey? Or is she infernal? It doesn’t really matter, because as always she isn’t the one he seeks. There’s a mental sigh, a voice in the back of Caio’s head that reminds him of this familiar pattern. A cycle of projection on to a new interest, then of latching on to every nostalgic trait they possess, then frustration at the new paramour’s failure to live up to expectations, then cold detachment and finally malaise as he realized he had done it all again. But as always, those thoughts are washed away by the music and the booze. This temptress just wants a dance, and Caio is far too polite to refuse. He ditches his melodramatic inner monologue and stalks across the floor up next to her. A coy smile plays across his lips as he meets those icy eyes again just for a moment. To take any more initiative would require more intoxication, so for now he sways just inches from her body and waits for her to make the next move.
Locking eyes with the figure, Shiva attempts a shy smile as she matches their rhythmic stride towards her. With a final step forward, she stops just inches from physical contact, close enough to share body heat with one another, yet noting the fact that the figure doesn't seem to be radiating any. As she continues to dance and writhe, she holds eye contact with the figure, marveling at their unearthly beauty ""Holy shit, it really is my birthday." . She smiles more softly as she delivers a gentle "Hi. Tonight's my birthday. Do you have a gift for me?"
Nikolai drunkenly makes his way over to the usual spot he kept in one of the darker corners of the lower level. He leans his head back against the slick wall, his horns clicking slightly as the connect with the stone… a sound completely overridden by the blasting of strange music from the gnomish musician. Nikolai keeps a close eye on his companions, letting the darkness be his cover as he lets the music wash over him, feel the strange thumps in his chest from the deep bass sounds. The gnomish stuff was different, but interesting and it was fun to feel the tempo pulsating throughout his entire body. After a moment, Nikolai losses track of his friends in the crush and simply watches the stairwell for them if they leave… and to check in with them that whomever they are with is okay.
Ling allows the dark-clothed man to pull her in and wraps her arms around his neck. She threads her fingers through his hair, admiring the shimmer of the metallic drops with glee. Closing her eyes, she sways to the music as more of the quicksilver rains down on her eyelids, cheeks and lips. The music pounds and bounces back from the stone walls, reverberating through her bones. The heat of so many bodies crushed against one another begins to stick her linen blouse to her skin. Without second thought, Ling shrugs off her leather jacket and lets it fall to the floor, uncaring. More fireworks erupt and she opens her eyes to watch them paint her companion's pale hair in all the colours of the setting sun.
The fiery haired woman sways her hips left and right as she sidles closer to Caio, lifting her arms above her head and snaking her body up against his. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his lips as she stops just short of contact, and her eyes sparkle with a multicoloured light as she stares deep into his own.
The woman who has approached Shiva gently takes her by the hand and twirls the tiefling on the spot in front her.
"Such a pretty little thing..." she purrs, her voice low and smooth like dark silk. "Tell me," she commands. "What is it you desire on your birthday?"
Ling dances, letting herself move with the pounding beat of the music and the rush of blood in her veins. Her partner flings his head back and his hair is dark with sweat, pasted to his temples. The curve of his throat gleams in the flashing lights. He touches his fingers to a drop of the silver liquid on his collarbone and shows it to her, his lips curving, before flicking at it, painting himself in metal.
What looks like a drifting flower bursts above their heads, and this time the spatter is a deep blue, like Shiva's skin. The half-elf licks a drop off of the side his hand, and when he lowers it, his mouth is stained with an electric mix of silver and blue. He watches Ling intently, gold eyes dark under his long lashes.
She can already taste the silver fluid on her lips as it runs down her face. It's an explosion of both sweet and sour, like something between wine and candy. She feels wild and free, and incredibly light. The faces of the dancers all around her appear darkly beautiful, and the shadows of the great echoing cavern are painted with colours brighter and more lovely than any sunset. The statue that looms above seems pure and benevolent... and then everything shifts.
As Caio, Ling and Nikolai look upon the statue, in each of their minds it is suddenly replaced by the enormous figure of a slim man with chestnut hair and huge black wings. Dagon.
Then, as quickly as the image appeared, when they look again it is gone, and they see the statue once more.
"You're so warm." he says with a slight embarrassed chuckle. His eyes pull away from hers and he sees the looming figure of Dagon. The flash stuns him for a moment and he steps back, shaking the confusing vision from his mind. "Apologies.. I'm uhm... I'm just a little inebriated."
Like a child licking ice cream from their lips, Astrid similarly removes the creamy head from her ale that remains after taking a healthy drink. "Well, when we're not clearing out the kobolds from below the mountain, and the orcs down the hill from Kazad Azgaraz... I try to help my father out around the shop," she taps the large pocket watch hanging from her neck. "One of these days I'm going to get this thing running. I can manage simple repairs easily enough, but I'm still working on being able to make something like this on my own. It sure would be nice to figure out a way to make these things run so as not to have to wind them all the time." The dwarf fidgets a few moments with the device before letting it fall back to her chest.
"What about you? What sort of business do you all tend to get up to... other than this?"
Alaris listens, absorbed in the dwarf's curiosity and longing. They process the question for a long moment, then shrug, running a fingertip around the rim of their stein while they talk.
"Well, there's a simple answer to that question, and a much more complicated one." Long pause, quick glance at Astrid's face, then they continue, "The simple answer is, 'We're good at killing things that go bump in the night, and that's a skill people will pay for.'"
Another pause, a swallow of ale, and then, "The more complicated answer depends greatly on one's own point of view. I saw a bit of your reaction when you realized that your fate was to throw in with a pack of wild tieflings... well, human society has been farless accepting of their presence... of their RIGHT to EXIST... than you have. Frankly, they've been treated much like the monsters we hunt. So now, they hunt monsters on behalf of a populace they don't care about and, according to most of their experience, doesn't care about them either."
Alaris swirls the ale in their stein, takes another gulp, then finishes in a low voice, "My Temple oversees monster hunting on behalf of the Sarameian Empire, and a year ago I caught the assignment of keeping this foursome out of trouble, and taking the taxman's bite out of their contracts. I must have pissed off someone up the chain of command to catch this job, but what they gave me as a punishment has become a calling. I want to help them see that there are good people that we protect from real darkness. I'm sure they think I'm a naive idiot - in fact, Nikolai has told me so in his way. The real darkness is alive out there, though -- and nobody's kidding anybody about where it's going."
Alaris' voice fades into quiet and they stare out at the dance floor and at the entryway to the underlevel, haunted and musing.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
As Shiva spins under the figure's upheld hand, she becomes entirely captivated by her grace and majesty. A quiet laugh escapes her mouth as she enters the figure's arms "What I desire is a tender touch...followed by a not so tender touch." A devilish smile curls across her lips as she moves her face closer to that of the figure, inviting her in.
Embarrassment washes over the dwarf's face as Alaris comments on her earlier reaction to the group who went below. Listening to the rest of the explanation, Astrid nervously twists one of her thick braids. She stammers a bit then clears her throat by downing half of her ale. "Well, they do seem a bit on the wilder side of things than I'm used to but I'm sure Brightmantle led them to me for a good reason. I imagine they will grow on me with time,"she says with a nervous laugh. "So about getting paid... I can't say that I'm in any position to hire their services for my needs. I'm a low on coin myself. I hope we can manage some sort of agreement."
As Shiva glides into the arms of her new dancing partner, it becomes clear that this woman is unusually tall - standing almost a head above the tiefling herself. Icy fingertips run down the warlock's shoulder blade to the small of her back, while the woman's other hand gently caresses Shiva's cheek with the backs of her fingers.
"A rare, blue rose," she murmurs, almost to herself, before abruptly tightening her grip and pulling the young tiefling against her by the waist. It's a sensation like diving into a pool of cold water, but, before Shiva can process the shock, she is being kissed, hard. It's a forceful, yet skilled kiss. One that brooks no argument over who is the kisser and who the kissee. By the time Shiva is permitted to come up for air, she finds herself gasping for oxygen.
Caio's temptress simply laughs off his distraction and turns to dance with her back to him for a while, her arms now linked about his neck as she writhes up and down. However, not long later she is beckoning to a male of her kind to join them.
Just as Shiva is enjoying all of the attention, the passion and depth of the sudden kiss drive all distractions from her mind. The heat of the undulating crowd, the pulsating music, the brilliant lights, all now seem far from view as this individual sets her body aflame with lust and desire. With just one kiss, this magnetic figure has become the center of the room, and the center of Shiva's attention. She wants nothing more than to find a private place for herself and her statuesque companion to indulge in one another. As she pulls away, she attempts to speak between heavy breathes.
Caio is grateful to have her take matters into her own hands so to speak. His awkward pretenses fall away as he lets his body follow hers, eventually letting his arms wrap around her torso and his lips brush her neck. He looks up to see the horned man stalking closer, and he invites him with a blissful smile.
As Ling opens her eyes for more of the fireworks, she sees the statue loom over the half-elf's shoulder. She looks back at him, watching his mouth turn silver and blue as he licks off the drop. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she can see the statue... move? Her attention shifts and she stares at it, adrenaline suddenly cursing through her veins. The benevolent winged creature suddenly looks like a demon, a monster. All her fighting instincts scream at her, she looks down to make sure she still has her dagger on her - but when she looks back up, the statue is the same as it was before. What... The dancers continue to writhe around her, the music keeps pushing them on, yet Ling stands rooted to the spot. It must be the droplets, I've tasted too many of them. She lets her companion move her about, but she barely keeps up with him and looks over her shoulder to try and catch Shiva's or Nikolai's eye.
Where are you, did you see that too? She tries to spot the other two tieflings or Caio, but cannot make anything out in the mass of tightly packed dancers. Feeling a slight panic rise inside her, she twists the other way and looks for Nikolai, hoping he stuck to the sidelines as he often does.
Embarrassment washes over the dwarf's face as Alaris comments on her earlier reaction to the group who went below. Listening to the rest of the explanation, Astrid nervously twists one of her thick braids. She stammers a bit then clears her throat by downing half of her ale. "Well, they do seem a bit on the wilder side of things than I'm used to but I'm sure Brightmantle led them to me for a good reason. I imagine they will grow on me with time,"she says with a nervous laugh. "So about getting paid... I can't say that I'm in any position to hire their services for my needs. I'm a low on coin myself. I hope we can manage some sort of agreement."
"Oh no - I suspect they will want to take advantage of your skills and give you the opportunity to work with us, instead of contracting us. Having a cleric on the team would let us take on contracts we have... avoided... in the past." Alaris smiles, trying to set the dwarf at ease. "You're different - you came right over and sat down and treated us as equals - that is half the battle won already."
The paladin stands and stretches. "I need to stretch my legs - I'm going to take a look around downstairs. Want to come?"
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
The tall woman places a firm finger beneath Shiva's chin, tilting the tiefling's face left and right, as though inspecting a recent purchase.
"Beautiful..." she remarks, mostly to her herself. "You will call me Mistress, pet. Follow."
Mistress takes Shivala by the hand and leads her effortlessly through the thronging crowds, and towards the far end of the hall, where the gigantic statue looms over the dance floor. Wherever she steps, the gyrating masses seem to part before her, creating a bubble of isolation in the sea of party-goers.
Near the back of the chamber, directly below the enormous winged figure, a throne-like chair resides on a dais. Several alcoves flank this centrepiece on both sides, each recessed into the stone wall and obscured by curtains of burgundy velvet. The throne is occupied by a tall man clad in the formal black dress of Ruslan nobility, although, from the looks of him, he's Breannian in origin. Flowing locks of dark hair cascade from his head, and his olive skin suggests he's northern by birth.
Mistress nods to him and he tilts his head in kind, raising his glass in their direction and murmuring an instruction to a nearby servant. The two ladies are shown to a free alcove, the inside of which is lavishly furnished with silks and cushions in rich shades of red and purple. The woman lowers herself into their embrace with a sigh of comfort, pulling Shiva down along with her.
Caio's partner arches her back against him as he responds in kind, and her other 'friend' steps in closer, pressing his own bare torso against hers. He lifts Caio's chin to steal the kiss for himself, even as he caresses the woman between them with his other hand. However, a moment later, he breaks away with a carefree laugh, taking both by the hand and leading them through the crowds in search of a private alcove of their own.
A pair of arms snakes around Ling from behind, holding her tight.
"I want to show you something," the half-elf whispers in her ear, before spinning the sorceress back around to face him, sending her skirts flaring.
He reaches forward and strokes his forefinger across her cheekbone. When it comes away, it is silver, as though he has caught a painted tear.
"Come along," he commands, holding out his hand for Ling to follow. It clamps down around her own, pleasantly warm to the touch.
The young tiefling finds herself drawn towards one of the fountains in the middle of the room. Her companion sets her down on the wide, marble edge, before also perching himself there besides her, their hands still entwined.
"Look in the water," he says, "tell me what you see."
Alaris moves down the stairs, enjoying the momentary coolness of the air before being smothered again by the heat and sound from the lower level. Scanning the writhing bodies, the paladin cannot find any of their companions.
A soft groan catches their attention, and they turn to see Nikolai pressed against the wall. "You feeling okay? Where are the others?"
Nikolai rubs his forehead, horns scraping against the stone. "No. I'm seeing things again. Visions from my other self. I'm worried about the others - I have no idea where they are."
Alaris lays a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes, murmuring a soft paean to Lady Freja in Celestial. A warm glow pulses from their hand and drives the poisonous liquor out of his system.
"How about now?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid,Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions! I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
As Ling follows him through the crowd, she looks around to try and spot her friends once more. Everything is a blur of limbs, illuminated by flashes of different colours. Then, finally, she spots a familiar azure hand as it disappears behind a curtain of velvet at the very end of the dungeon. Shivala! Ling focuses on her friend, and whispers: Shiva, I don't know what's going on, but I saw something weird. It looked like a black winged monster at the statue, it was gone in a flash. Did you see it too? I don't know if the droplets are getting to me this time... As she approaches the fountain with her darkly dressed companion, she adds: I'm at the fountain in the middle.
Sitting down on the solid, cooler edged of the marble fountain. Ling regains some composure. The exploding lights above illuminate them for seconds at a time, colouring her new found friend in different shades each time. When there are no fireworks, his pale skin, like her own, shines red in the light of the dungeon. Their fingers intertwined, she casts one last glance at him before looking into the fountain.
Ling leans over and looks into the smooth, dark surface of the pool. She can see her own face reflected back at her, her eyes wide and wild. The makeup around her eyes smudged like bruises, her hair tangled. The half-elf leans over too, and she sees his face beside hers. The silver of his hair reflected in the water is reminiscent of the moon on the river. Then another of the black rose petals drifts across the surface and the water shivers apart, their reflections distorting, unrecognisable.
He puts his hand under her chin and turns her face toward him. His pupils are huge and night-black, with the iris only a thin ring of gold.
"Do you see it?" He asks. "We're the same, you and I. My name is Jonathan, but the reputation of the Trio Infernale precedes you. Perhaps it is fate that we met tonight."
A shiver of excitement runs down Shiva's spine as her companion is given a title; Mistress. Entirely enraptured, Shiva's euphoria carries her forward as she follows her Mistress, oblivious to the manner in which the crowd gives way before them. As they approach the back of the chamber, the sight of the seated figure causes a momentary rush of panic, before recognizing him and remembering that he's on the outs with Breannian nobility. She relaxes again as Mistress leads her to a private alcove, when a voice enters her mind that sounds eerily like her own.
"Are they safe?"
Somewhat coming back to herself, this moment is immediately followed by Ling's message as the red and purple fabrics come into view. "Are you ok?" is all she has time to say before she is pulled into Mistresses' soft, cold arms.
Placing a hand on her waist, Shiva moves in close "...Mistress."she whispers with a smile
Shiva can sense the inhuman nature of the other dancers in the room as she moves amongst them. Some with an icy pallor to their skin, and a swift and languid grace. Others hot-blooded, fierce and fast. All of them, young, dancing close, and writhing up and down each other's bodies. They watch her with appreciation, speculation, and predatory hunger.
A pale, feminine silhouette stalks towards the tiefling as she sways back and forth. As it draws closer, Shiva can make out dark eyes and long black hair, all wrapped up in a velvet package that hugs the form in some places and flows in others.
Behind her, Ling feels somebody take her hand and pull her towards them.
"Don't run off now," the half-elf quips. His face is face is elegant, with high cheekbones and tawny eyes that glitter like chips of amber. An explosion of coloured light illuminates the darkness above, and metallic drops rain down on them. They catch in their hair and shimmer on the skin like quicksilver.
Across the dance floor, Caio's ghost turns to face him with tall horns and blank white eyes. She wears nothing above the waist, but her long copper tresses that cover much of her torso, and her caprine legs are coated in thick brown fur. Twisting back and forth to the music, she beckons to him to come dance.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Caio averts his eyes as they meet the pallid gaze of the... fey? Or is she infernal? It doesn’t really matter, because as always she isn’t the one he seeks. There’s a mental sigh, a voice in the back of Caio’s head that reminds him of this familiar pattern. A cycle of projection on to a new interest, then of latching on to every nostalgic trait they possess, then frustration at the new paramour’s failure to live up to expectations, then cold detachment and finally malaise as he realized he had done it all again. But as always, those thoughts are washed away by the music and the booze. This temptress just wants a dance, and Caio is far too polite to refuse. He ditches his melodramatic inner monologue and stalks across the floor up next to her. A coy smile plays across his lips as he meets those icy eyes again just for a moment. To take any more initiative would require more intoxication, so for now he sways just inches from her body and waits for her to make the next move.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Locking eyes with the figure, Shiva attempts a shy smile as she matches their rhythmic stride towards her. With a final step forward, she stops just inches from physical contact, close enough to share body heat with one another, yet noting the fact that the figure doesn't seem to be radiating any. As she continues to dance and writhe, she holds eye contact with the figure, marveling at their unearthly beauty ""Holy shit, it really is my birthday." . She smiles more softly as she delivers a gentle "Hi. Tonight's my birthday. Do you have a gift for me?"
Nikolai drunkenly makes his way over to the usual spot he kept in one of the darker corners of the lower level. He leans his head back against the slick wall, his horns clicking slightly as the connect with the stone… a sound completely overridden by the blasting of strange music from the gnomish musician. Nikolai keeps a close eye on his companions, letting the darkness be his cover as he lets the music wash over him, feel the strange thumps in his chest from the deep bass sounds. The gnomish stuff was different, but interesting and it was fun to feel the tempo pulsating throughout his entire body. After a moment, Nikolai losses track of his friends in the crush and simply watches the stairwell for them if they leave… and to check in with them that whomever they are with is okay.
Valaith "Rimehand" Kalukavi - Chronicles of Arden
Ling allows the dark-clothed man to pull her in and wraps her arms around his neck. She threads her fingers through his hair, admiring the shimmer of the metallic drops with glee. Closing her eyes, she sways to the music as more of the quicksilver rains down on her eyelids, cheeks and lips. The music pounds and bounces back from the stone walls, reverberating through her bones. The heat of so many bodies crushed against one another begins to stick her linen blouse to her skin. Without second thought, Ling shrugs off her leather jacket and lets it fall to the floor, uncaring. More fireworks erupt and she opens her eyes to watch them paint her companion's pale hair in all the colours of the setting sun.
The fiery haired woman sways her hips left and right as she sidles closer to Caio, lifting her arms above her head and snaking her body up against his. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his lips as she stops just short of contact, and her eyes sparkle with a multicoloured light as she stares deep into his own.
The woman who has approached Shiva gently takes her by the hand and twirls the tiefling on the spot in front her.
"Such a pretty little thing..." she purrs, her voice low and smooth like dark silk. "Tell me," she commands. "What is it you desire on your birthday?"
Ling dances, letting herself move with the pounding beat of the music and the rush of blood in her veins. Her partner flings his head back and his hair is dark with sweat, pasted to his temples. The curve of his throat gleams in the flashing lights. He touches his fingers to a drop of the silver liquid on his collarbone and shows it to her, his lips curving, before flicking at it, painting himself in metal.
What looks like a drifting flower bursts above their heads, and this time the spatter is a deep blue, like Shiva's skin. The half-elf licks a drop off of the side his hand, and when he lowers it, his mouth is stained with an electric mix of silver and blue. He watches Ling intently, gold eyes dark under his long lashes.
She can already taste the silver fluid on her lips as it runs down her face. It's an explosion of both sweet and sour, like something between wine and candy. She feels wild and free, and incredibly light. The faces of the dancers all around her appear darkly beautiful, and the shadows of the great echoing cavern are painted with colours brighter and more lovely than any sunset. The statue that looms above seems pure and benevolent... and then everything shifts.
As Caio, Ling and Nikolai look upon the statue, in each of their minds it is suddenly replaced by the enormous figure of a slim man with chestnut hair and huge black wings. Dagon.
Then, as quickly as the image appeared, when they look again it is gone, and they see the statue once more.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
"You're so warm." he says with a slight embarrassed chuckle. His eyes pull away from hers and he sees the looming figure of Dagon. The flash stuns him for a moment and he steps back, shaking the confusing vision from his mind. "Apologies.. I'm uhm... I'm just a little inebriated."
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
Alaris listens, absorbed in the dwarf's curiosity and longing. They process the question for a long moment, then shrug, running a fingertip around the rim of their stein while they talk.
"Well, there's a simple answer to that question, and a much more complicated one." Long pause, quick glance at Astrid's face, then they continue, "The simple answer is, 'We're good at killing things that go bump in the night, and that's a skill people will pay for.'"
Another pause, a swallow of ale, and then, "The more complicated answer depends greatly on one's own point of view. I saw a bit of your reaction when you realized that your fate was to throw in with a pack of wild tieflings... well, human society has been far less accepting of their presence... of their RIGHT to EXIST... than you have. Frankly, they've been treated much like the monsters we hunt. So now, they hunt monsters on behalf of a populace they don't care about and, according to most of their experience, doesn't care about them either."
Alaris swirls the ale in their stein, takes another gulp, then finishes in a low voice, "My Temple oversees monster hunting on behalf of the Sarameian Empire, and a year ago I caught the assignment of keeping this foursome out of trouble, and taking the taxman's bite out of their contracts. I must have pissed off someone up the chain of command to catch this job, but what they gave me as a punishment has become a calling. I want to help them see that there are good people that we protect from real darkness. I'm sure they think I'm a naive idiot - in fact, Nikolai has told me so in his way. The real darkness is alive out there, though -- and nobody's kidding anybody about where it's going."
Alaris' voice fades into quiet and they stare out at the dance floor and at the entryway to the underlevel, haunted and musing.
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
As Shiva spins under the figure's upheld hand, she becomes entirely captivated by her grace and majesty. A quiet laugh escapes her mouth as she enters the figure's arms "What I desire is a tender touch...followed by a not so tender touch." A devilish smile curls across her lips as she moves her face closer to that of the figure, inviting her in.
Embarrassment washes over the dwarf's face as Alaris comments on her earlier reaction to the group who went below. Listening to the rest of the explanation, Astrid nervously twists one of her thick braids. She stammers a bit then clears her throat by downing half of her ale. "Well, they do seem a bit on the wilder side of things than I'm used to but I'm sure Brightmantle led them to me for a good reason. I imagine they will grow on me with time," she says with a nervous laugh. "So about getting paid... I can't say that I'm in any position to hire their services for my needs. I'm a low on coin myself. I hope we can manage some sort of agreement."
As Shiva glides into the arms of her new dancing partner, it becomes clear that this woman is unusually tall - standing almost a head above the tiefling herself. Icy fingertips run down the warlock's shoulder blade to the small of her back, while the woman's other hand gently caresses Shiva's cheek with the backs of her fingers.
"A rare, blue rose," she murmurs, almost to herself, before abruptly tightening her grip and pulling the young tiefling against her by the waist. It's a sensation like diving into a pool of cold water, but, before Shiva can process the shock, she is being kissed, hard. It's a forceful, yet skilled kiss. One that brooks no argument over who is the kisser and who the kissee. By the time Shiva is permitted to come up for air, she finds herself gasping for oxygen.
Caio's temptress simply laughs off his distraction and turns to dance with her back to him for a while, her arms now linked about his neck as she writhes up and down. However, not long later she is beckoning to a male of her kind to join them.
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Just as Shiva is enjoying all of the attention, the passion and depth of the sudden kiss drive all distractions from her mind. The heat of the undulating crowd, the pulsating music, the brilliant lights, all now seem far from view as this individual sets her body aflame with lust and desire. With just one kiss, this magnetic figure has become the center of the room, and the center of Shiva's attention. She wants nothing more than to find a private place for herself and her statuesque companion to indulge in one another. As she pulls away, she attempts to speak between heavy breathes.
"What...is your name? And...can we go somewhere?"
Caio is grateful to have her take matters into her own hands so to speak. His awkward pretenses fall away as he lets his body follow hers, eventually letting his arms wrap around her torso and his lips brush her neck. He looks up to see the horned man stalking closer, and he invites him with a blissful smile.
Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - Vark Galestone | Half-Orc | Storm Sorcerer
Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - Caio Cypherien | Shadar-Kai | Inquisitor Ranger
As Ling opens her eyes for more of the fireworks, she sees the statue loom over the half-elf's shoulder. She looks back at him, watching his mouth turn silver and blue as he licks off the drop. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she thinks she can see the statue... move? Her attention shifts and she stares at it, adrenaline suddenly cursing through her veins. The benevolent winged creature suddenly looks like a demon, a monster. All her fighting instincts scream at her, she looks down to make sure she still has her dagger on her - but when she looks back up, the statue is the same as it was before. What... The dancers continue to writhe around her, the music keeps pushing them on, yet Ling stands rooted to the spot. It must be the droplets, I've tasted too many of them. She lets her companion move her about, but she barely keeps up with him and looks over her shoulder to try and catch Shiva's or Nikolai's eye.
Where are you, did you see that too? She tries to spot the other two tieflings or Caio, but cannot make anything out in the mass of tightly packed dancers. Feeling a slight panic rise inside her, she twists the other way and looks for Nikolai, hoping he stuck to the sidelines as he often does.
"Oh no - I suspect they will want to take advantage of your skills and give you the opportunity to work with us, instead of contracting us. Having a cleric on the team would let us take on contracts we have... avoided... in the past." Alaris smiles, trying to set the dwarf at ease. "You're different - you came right over and sat down and treated us as equals - that is half the battle won already."
The paladin stands and stretches. "I need to stretch my legs - I'm going to take a look around downstairs. Want to come?"
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
The tall woman places a firm finger beneath Shiva's chin, tilting the tiefling's face left and right, as though inspecting a recent purchase.
"Beautiful..." she remarks, mostly to her herself. "You will call me Mistress, pet. Follow."
Mistress takes Shivala by the hand and leads her effortlessly through the thronging crowds, and towards the far end of the hall, where the gigantic statue looms over the dance floor. Wherever she steps, the gyrating masses seem to part before her, creating a bubble of isolation in the sea of party-goers.
Near the back of the chamber, directly below the enormous winged figure, a throne-like chair resides on a dais. Several alcoves flank this centrepiece on both sides, each recessed into the stone wall and obscured by curtains of burgundy velvet. The throne is occupied by a tall man clad in the formal black dress of Ruslan nobility, although, from the looks of him, he's Breannian in origin. Flowing locks of dark hair cascade from his head, and his olive skin suggests he's northern by birth.
Mistress nods to him and he tilts his head in kind, raising his glass in their direction and murmuring an instruction to a nearby servant. The two ladies are shown to a free alcove, the inside of which is lavishly furnished with silks and cushions in rich shades of red and purple. The woman lowers herself into their embrace with a sigh of comfort, pulling Shiva down along with her.
Caio's partner arches her back against him as he responds in kind, and her other 'friend' steps in closer, pressing his own bare torso against hers. He lifts Caio's chin to steal the kiss for himself, even as he caresses the woman between them with his other hand. However, a moment later, he breaks away with a carefree laugh, taking both by the hand and leading them through the crowds in search of a private alcove of their own.
A pair of arms snakes around Ling from behind, holding her tight.
"I want to show you something," the half-elf whispers in her ear, before spinning the sorceress back around to face him, sending her skirts flaring.
He reaches forward and strokes his forefinger across her cheekbone. When it comes away, it is silver, as though he has caught a painted tear.
"Come along," he commands, holding out his hand for Ling to follow. It clamps down around her own, pleasantly warm to the touch.
The young tiefling finds herself drawn towards one of the fountains in the middle of the room. Her companion sets her down on the wide, marble edge, before also perching himself there besides her, their hands still entwined.
"Look in the water," he says, "tell me what you see."
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
Alaris moves down the stairs, enjoying the momentary coolness of the air before being smothered again by the heat and sound from the lower level. Scanning the writhing bodies, the paladin cannot find any of their companions.
A soft groan catches their attention, and they turn to see Nikolai pressed against the wall. "You feeling okay? Where are the others?"
Nikolai rubs his forehead, horns scraping against the stone. "No. I'm seeing things again. Visions from my other self. I'm worried about the others - I have no idea where they are."
Alaris lays a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes, murmuring a soft paean to Lady Freja in Celestial. A warm glow pulses from their hand and drives the poisonous liquor out of his system.
"How about now?"
Eshuvenniel Kazander Ravid, Valor Bard and Acolyte of the Goddess of Luck
Caradoc Langham, Halfling Rogue - Lost Magics - Epic of Pre-made Proportions!
I'm not looking for heaven or hell... just someone to listen to stories I tell...
As Ling follows him through the crowd, she looks around to try and spot her friends once more. Everything is a blur of limbs, illuminated by flashes of different colours. Then, finally, she spots a familiar azure hand as it disappears behind a curtain of velvet at the very end of the dungeon. Shivala! Ling focuses on her friend, and whispers: Shiva, I don't know what's going on, but I saw something weird. It looked like a black winged monster at the statue, it was gone in a flash. Did you see it too? I don't know if the droplets are getting to me this time... As she approaches the fountain with her darkly dressed companion, she adds: I'm at the fountain in the middle.
Sitting down on the solid, cooler edged of the marble fountain. Ling regains some composure. The exploding lights above illuminate them for seconds at a time, colouring her new found friend in different shades each time. When there are no fireworks, his pale skin, like her own, shines red in the light of the dungeon. Their fingers intertwined, she casts one last glance at him before looking into the fountain.
Ling leans over and looks into the smooth, dark surface of the pool. She can see her own face reflected back at her, her eyes wide and wild. The makeup around her eyes smudged like bruises, her hair tangled. The half-elf leans over too, and she sees his face beside hers. The silver of his hair reflected in the water is reminiscent of the moon on the river. Then another of the black rose petals drifts across the surface and the water shivers apart, their reflections distorting, unrecognisable.
He puts his hand under her chin and turns her face toward him. His pupils are huge and night-black, with the iris only a thin ring of gold.
"Do you see it?" He asks. "We're the same, you and I. My name is Jonathan, but the reputation of the Trio Infernale precedes you. Perhaps it is fate that we met tonight."
The Chronicles of Arden: Sheercleft - DM for Aiden, Bründir, Jex, Thurston, Valaith and Vark
The Chronicles of Arden: Hunters - DM for Alaris, Astrid, Caio and Shiva
A shiver of excitement runs down Shiva's spine as her companion is given a title; Mistress. Entirely enraptured, Shiva's euphoria carries her forward as she follows her Mistress, oblivious to the manner in which the crowd gives way before them. As they approach the back of the chamber, the sight of the seated figure causes a momentary rush of panic, before recognizing him and remembering that he's on the outs with Breannian nobility. She relaxes again as Mistress leads her to a private alcove, when a voice enters her mind that sounds eerily like her own.
"Are they safe?"
Somewhat coming back to herself, this moment is immediately followed by Ling's message as the red and purple fabrics come into view. "Are you ok?" is all she has time to say before she is pulled into Mistresses' soft, cold arms.
Placing a hand on her waist, Shiva moves in close "...Mistress." she whispers with a smile