Men who play games of war and soldiers born from circumstance...
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Scroll 01 : 05
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Io’fayl paces impatiently as she waits for the return of her Captain and his charge. Bal’thial had sent Sav’real ahead to announce they would be arriving soon and it had set her a little more on edge than she’d ever care to admit. If the man he is bringing in was indeed Mithghiiel’s son, it will open up an entire world of unanswered questions for her. She had always suspected he may not have been executed as ordered but could never prove it to be fact… in one way or another, this child will be the proof she needs. Tir’snin keeps himself to the background of her chambers while she continues to glide from one side to the other of her great room, the worry and apprehension he’d felt when her Intelligence Officer had returned with the news of her Captain’s success growing ever more persistent with each step she takes. His Queen is agitated and any attempt he has made to comfort her, even knowing her not to be one who allows the comfort to be given, has resulted in him being injured. The fear he feels as the seconds tick by practically radiates off him and he’s begun to ring clawed hands together as some form of distraction so that he will not simply go mad from the anticipation alone. What if the one being brought in is his replacement? He cannot run or he will be hunted and killed before he has even left the fortress, he knows this. He has seen it done many times before, by his hand, the Captain’s or his Queen’s own and instead of dwelling on the possibilities, he’s finding himself hoping instead -just a small measure of hope he's clinging to that perhaps she just wants to kill the man for whatever reasons she has and his position is truly secure. Because regardless of the intent, he has no other choice but to wait and see. A loud knock against the heavy wooden doors of her chamber jolts both Queen and Harbinger from their thoughts and causes them both to look up toward the source of the sound. “Enter.” Io’fayl calls soon after. Wide doors swing open, pushed aside by a few of Bal’thial’s subordinates who keep their eyes trained on the floor even as the tall Captain walks past, followed closely the five of the ten soldiers he’d taken with him and all toting the bound and gagged Kso’ppghiel. The white haired man’s footfalls come to a halt halfway into his Mistress’s room and he bows his head in the slightest while those behind him set their charge onto his knees before quickly taking their leave. “He was inclined to accept your invitation, Mistress…” Bal’thial says quietly as Tir’snin’s bright green eyes settle on the prone figure just behind him. “As requested.” “Un-gag him.” She says simply and Bal’thial removes the leather strap binding Kso’ppghiel’s mouth without even a moment’s hesitation. As Io’fayl looks upon his face in its entirety, her rust colored eyes flash for only a moment in an emotion the Captain barely catches; as if she has seen a ghost. The world and those in it seem to fall away as the Queen moves slowly forward, no doubt whatsoever in her mind of who the man is. He is the exact, near mirror image of Mithghiiel despite the difference in hair color and if she didn’t know better, she’d think it was Mithghiiel himself. Emotions wrack through her internally as she draws closer to the bound figure, yet even with the turmoil, she manages to maintain her cold exterior. Io’fayl stops just at Kso’ppghiel’s front and kneels down, reaching out to lift his chin to she can get a better look but before she can speak, the blonde suddenly spits the piece of meat he had been holding in his mouth for the past day at her face. Bal’thial takes a half step back, internally applauding his charge’s defiance this many days after the fact. It’s a small measure of feeling that only lasts a moment though, before a trace of pity streaks through him at the knowledge of what that act of defiance is going to earn the other man. Mismatched eyes slide away just as anger flashes hard in Io’fayl’s features and over to meet her current Harbinger’s gaze, the walking dead man’s expression filled instantly with such a comical mix disgust and shock that it causes an amused smirk to form on his mouth that thankfully, nobody manages to catch. The anger Io’fayl feels at what’s just been done is irrational, as if it was Mithghiiel before her and it were he who had spit in her face. She reaches suddenly out, claws sinking deep into white-blonde locks to take a tight hold before she lifts him up with a strength un-matched by any man. Swinging Kso’ppghiel around with a quick snap, she lets go and in the background, Tir’snin flinches hard when the bound man’s body slams against a marble pillar at the far end of the chamber room. Yet despite the audible cracks that resonate out from the impact or the unnatural way in which he slumps down right after, no sound leaves his lips and he makes no movement to indicate he’d felt what had happened at all. She knows better, however, than to think he will be taken out so easy; this is Mithghiiel’s son after all... Her hard gaze shoots to her Captain the instant Kso’ppghiel’s body has settled, her voice cold and filled with rage. “Unbind him but keep him physically restrained.” Less than a second passes between the nod Bal’thial has given and the time it takes him to move for Kso’ppghiel’s fallen form, and only a few moments longer before he’s planted a knee at his lower back and begun stripping the cinching leather straps free. He’s practiced and skilled in this task and it’s all done rather swiftly yet he’s finding that the usual coldness and lack of feeling towards his target is strangely devoid. The amount of anger directed at this one is something he hasn’t quite seen before; the coldness and ruthlessness his Queen holds ever present, but her actions carry something more here, something he can’t place and something he’s sure has much to do with the secrets Sav’real has told him to find. The blonde makes no movement as his legs are freed; none when clawed fingers are moving towards the straps binding his wrists but despite the immobility, the white haired Captain knows full well he’s simply waiting for an opening and that it would be prudent just to leave him as he is. But unfortunately, he’s been ordered to unbind so despite his reservations that’s what he’ll do. One wrist is freed and he twists the prone man’s arm high up behind his back before he moves for the other and while this is being done, Kso’ppghiel continues lie completely still while he feels conflicted internally. He needs to leave, to get out of this place, but his swords are nowhere to be seen. He will not leave without them, but it is looking as if he might not be given any choice. The blonde man’s teeth clench against the pain as the wrist of his wounded hand is taken and wrenched behind with the other and it’s then that Kso’ppghiel makes up his mind. Speaking a quiet enchantment, he releases the seal on his wings and stretches the translucent grey, leathery appendages that solidify out to knock Bal’thial back. He bolts forward once he’s freed of the Captain’s weight and darts towards the open terrace in an attempt to gain what he desperately seeks. He will have to return for his swords later before leaving this place completely, but for now he simply needs to get out of this room. The moment Bal’thial’s hands hit the floor; he’s pushed himself off again without so much as a moment’s pause and only the quietest of curses spoken to himself, long dusty robes rustling out behind him in his sprint towards the one trying to get away. He’d known it was coming and still managed to get himself thrown off, the desperation in the other man’s movements and unrelenting determination to free himself catching him just a little off guard. He’d assumed after spending the time in travel with him that Kso’ppghiel wouldn’t part without those swords of his, given how attached to the weapons he’d appeared to be, but it appears his assumption had been wrong and it’s not a mistake he plans to make again… Claw tipped fingers fly out to grasp at the ends of translucent wings just as he overtakes the fleeing figure, managing to catch an end that allows him to yank the blonde back hard. His free hand flies up to wrap around stretched bone during the movement and he pulls even harder, the action taking Kso’ppghiel quickly down. A grunt slips free of the fallen man’s mouth as his battered frame falls against the marble floor below, the tall Captain swiftly planting himself firmly on top while an armor covered knee slams into the small of his back. Wrapping his hands around the bases of the leathery appendages, he forces them to fold flat and soon, long braided plaits are spilling across broad shoulders as he leans over to bare his fangs in the slightest before quiet words are spoken hastily so that only the other can hear. “I suggest you stay down, or this meeting will be far shorter than you think.” “Then let her kill me… or do it yourself.” Kso’ppghiel’s words are strained and pushed through gritted teeth even as the footfalls of the Queen can be heard approaching swiftly somewhere from behind. “I will kill you both if I have to.” he continues to struggle against the one holding him, only managing to wrench his injured hand forward throughout it and a moment later he speaks a quick enchantment that heals the wound, allowing him to continue his attempts to pull himself free of Ba’thial’s grip nearly pain free. “Hold him and prevent him from healing further.” Io’fayl commands her Captain while signaling her Harbinger to come near. Tir’snin rises immediately and goes to his Mistress without hesitation, kneeling down beside her in subordination as soon as he’s at her side and hopeful that he’s about to be given the task of killing the one the white haired man holds. “Kso’ppghiel.” Her quiet voice grabs the blonde’s attention and pupiless white eyes travel up to stare defiantly at her as she moves behind the tawny-haired Harbinger. “I would like to show you your fate should you continue this behavior.” Feminine fingers, tipped in claws slip under Tir’snin’s chin to lift his head and she grins a cold, wicked sort of grin. Green eyes instantly flood with fear when the understanding seeps in that his duty as his Queen’s Harbinger is about to end and Tir’snin’s gaze flicks over to meet Bal’thial’s in a silent plea for help; one that goes completely unanswered. A moment later her claws rip across his throat and blood begins flowing from the deep lacerations she’d just caused, splashing down in large rivulets onto the marbled floor. His eyes roll up as the world begins to fade around him and his breath soon becomes strangled and shallow. Tir’snin slumps in his Queen’s hands, taking his death without a struggle as he knows there is little point in trying to fight. This was inevitable, despite his hopes… he’d known it from day one. Once the life has drained from her former Harbinger’s eyes, Io’fayl discards the limp body by allowing it to fall onto the floor without sparing the dead man even the slightest glance before she steps up to Kso’ppghiel’s front once more. A vicious smile crosses her lips as she smooths messy blonde strands from his eyes with bloody fingertips, her words coming soft and almost sweet. “You will be my next Harbinger. Your duty will be to serve me however I see fit, or you will end up like him.” She jerks her head in Tir’snin’s direction without ever breaking her gaze from angry, white, pupiless eyes. “Then I will become like him.” Kso’ppghiel growls and attempts to snap at her hand, forcing her to pull her fingers away. “Kill me or set me free.” A second after she’s curled her hand back, the beginnings of an enchantment starts to slip from his lips that cause Io’fayl to frown as she recognizes the potential magnitude of it and with one flickering look given to her Captain, she reaches out and latches onto the blonde’s horns in order to wrench his head back, speaking an enchantment of her own against his mouth. Immediately after, his words halt and her new Harbinger falls unconscious in Bal’thial’s grip. “Neither… will ever be an option for you, my dear Kso’ppghiel.” She smirks as she takes a moment to pass rust colored eyes over his sleeping form before she sighs softly and pulls away. Io’fayl glances over to the bloody figure lying dead on the floor only once before turning back to address her Captain. “Have this mess disposed of and then make this one here more presentable to me.” She frowns as the white haired man simply nods, her thoughts quickly shifting elsewhere. “He is capable of more than I expected with magic, which will have to be remedied…” Long moments pass as she stands in contemplative silence, tapping clawed fingers at her lips before a smile returns to her features. “He will also need a new name.” In her defiance over Mithghiiel’s own, she will claim as much as she can from his son. Without another word, Io’fayl turns away from the two men, bare feet padding across cold marble as she moves to exit her chambers with sheer, blood stained robes flowing softly behind. A quiet sigh slips free of Bal’thial’s mouth as he slowly releases his hold on the unconscious man the moment his Queen’s footfalls are no longer heard from the hallway beyond, lowering him towards the floor before mismatched eyes shift up and come to rest on Tir’snin’s bleeding form. A slight smirk forms and he steps over his Mistress’s newest Harbinger’s body, moving towards the mess he’d been instructed to clean up. That went pretty much how he’d suspected it would go… Tir’snin’s service has ended in the only way it could and now there’s another she’s chosen to take his place. Tir’snin will be the second of her chosen he’s seen end in this manner during his years of service and so he can’t say that he was in any way surprised. What he was a little surprised about though, was the sheer amount of anger radiating from Io’fayl, as it -at that magnitude is something completely new. She has a temper for sure and while he’s known her to be volatile and ruthless the entire time he’s been at her right hand, there was something else in there this time, something different… subtle flickers of emotion he’s never witnessed in her before and all of it directed towards the one laying asleep just behind him. It was a strange thing to see and not something he quite knows how to react to any more than he knows how to react to finding someone who’s proficient in magic to such a degree that they can heal themselves in the way he saw Kso’ppghiel do during the entire ordeal. That level of magic is something practically unknown to most and he’s finding that this coupled with his Queen’s emotional state in regards to him has only piqued his curiosity towards the blonde that much more. But curiosities will have to wait as he has a duty to do and so he shakes his head a little to clear his thoughts in a way that sends the metal adornments at his horns chiming before he reaches back to unhook the cloak from the fastenings on his armor, swinging it around and allowing it to drop it near the fallen man’s side. Moments later he kicks the body towards it, the blood trickling from the gashes on the former Harbinger’s neck along with the pool that had been gathering around him when he'd first been struck instantly soaking the heavy material through. Squatting down, he flips the fabric over Tir’snin’s body and claw tipped fingers twist the ends of the fabric together to secure a few quick knots before he hoists the dead man up and swings him across his shoulder. Taking little time to find his way out onto the terrace of his Queen’s room, Bal’thial shifts in the slightest to pull the corpse free before taking one strong heave that tosses it over the side. He doesn’t bother watching it as it plummets towards the jagged cliffs below; instead simply turning swiftly back towards the room in order to continue on with his task. Tir’snin isn’t the first body he’s dumped off the sides of Io’fayl’s fortress and he highly doubts he’ll be the last. Quick orders are issued to his subordinates gathered outside; the men spilling into the room immediately in an effort to clean the remaining mess up as fast as they possibly can while their Captain returns to Kso’ppghiel’s side. He contemplates for only a moment on what he plans to do before leaning down and reaching for the blonde’s outstretched wings, taking a just few seconds to position them to allow strong arms to slide beneath the Harbinger's frame so he can be lifted quickly up. Carefully swinging the unconscious man over his shoulder, he carries him casually towards the chamber bathe in order to get him cleaned up like he'd been ordered while leaving his men scurrying back and forth in the room alone … |
