Forsaken Worshipers= IC

[tirgesfu]

Jariath

Jariath stood in the cold wind basking in the feel of the chill and in the questions Sabeck kept asking; Who was he really? He watched her eyes spark full of wild confusion, her hair sweep around her shoulders and her taut muscle shiver in the cold. Instead of answering her he moved around her to close the window his blast of power must have opened. He let the air fill his dark hair as if the cold was a warmth all its own.There out in the court yard he saw the tree take a last fire spark and then simmer in a smoldering ash.

He spun back to Sabeck with a wildness of his own to call her over to the widow. “There they are.” He pointed from the still open window. “The King and what he thinks is his defeated Queen.” He watched them spin away from the tree and go back inside.

“I need your help.” Jariath moved closer to Sabeck to feel her energy and to let her know he was serious. This was no game. “Magic, Sabeck.” He answered her question she placed awhile ago. Jariath was not sure she would understand. “Old like you said. So old we have not flexed those muscles, not practiced, not pounced on our power but attempt subdue it.” He moved again to make the space between them shrink.

“Can we sneak to hear the plans the brut Kings spews to my Queen?” He looked to her as if to challenge her. He had little doubt she could slink through this city, but would she want to take that risk?

[Vlexia]

She followed him to the window and saw a smoldering tree, the steam rising from the scorched bark as the light raindrops fell upon them, and a great cloud of smoke billowed from the top branches. Turning her eyes to the right, she did indeed see a brief glimpse of Jafeth leading the White Elf Queen back into the castle, and Sabeck growled at the sight of the man, it being her first time seeing him in months. The last time he had summoned her to his presence it had been for entertainment at a feast he had held in honor of his generals. She had been imprisoned in a cage that was too small for a creature like her; the Sakrait had needed to hunch over almost in a ball, unable to move and avoid the jagged rods as the men had prodded her through the iron bars and stabbed at her, invoking quite a scene from the wild feline. Her snarls and fiery shouts of what she would do to them, to all of them, if only they would let her free only spurred them onward, increasing their humiliating torture of her. Jafeth had roared with laughter throughout the entire affair, even coming up to her face to taunt her himself, before sending her back down to her cell once she had worn out her vocal cords from screaming at them.

So she watched from the window, scowling as the vile man led what looked to be an extraordinarily exotic Queen back into the catacombs of the dark fortress before looking back towards Jariath, who was now leering over her, challenging her to help him sneak through the stone sanctuary and find the room where the negotiations were to take place. Sabeck scoffed at him, practically rolling her amber eyes at his attempt to dare her into doing something for him; as if she needed a smart reason to do something against the Pvethian King.

“As if I would shrink back at any opportunity to bring Jafeth down, elf.” She chuckled wickedly into his face before spinning away and dropping back low to the floor, prowling like an oiled panther towards the door, her shoulder blades shifting under the caramel skin of her strong back as she moved smoothly before opening the door and peering out into the deserted hallway. There were no guards, being no one to watch over anyway since everyone was at the Banquet Feast still being held downstairs…only a few torches lining the walls to light the way. Sabeck turned towards Jariath and motioned him to come over and stand behind her with a quick jerk of her head. “They will undoubtedly be in the War Room; I have been there many a time, along with the Banquet Hall, as amusement for the men of this country. I know where it is in this castle but I don’t really know how to get there since I was always carried through the front door and down the main hallways.” She turned back to look up at him from her crouched position, smiling up at him mischievously. “Are you ready to possibly die, elf? Because that is what’s going to happen if we get caught. I am an escaped prisoner; you are on Jafeth’s bad list, a list that grows shorter each day as the people on it disappear in death. Why is knowing what is being said so important?”

She could hear from his earlier tone that he was dead serious about needing to go and find his Queen so as to eavesdrop into the conversations. Sabeck wasn’t scared of getting caught, but she was confused as to the sudden backbone these elves got in times of distress. The traditional stories of Frost Elves portrayed them as peaceful artists, quiet and mild spirited. But Jariath’s eyes were burning with passion, anger, and violence: something Sabeck recognized well. But as the woman was impulsive, she was also smart. She too wanted to know what was going to be said, but she could also wait for the Queen to return so they could both speak with her. Jariath’s zeal was contagious, but she had to know why he was doing it.

[Deamonbane]

Jafeth

The king looked at the queen, his face a mask, contemplating what she had proposed. If she killed him, she would only be killed herself, and thus ensure the destruction of her people. He knew that, but, then again, he wasn't the one being forced to surrender, with virtually nothing to exchange for his people's safety. Desperation caused some minds to break, and not think clearly. He leaned back into his seat, the room silent at this unprecedented request. His eyes narrowed. If he was going to die at her hands, so be it. She would have to employ her magic to even think about beating him, and if she did, the dishonor would be hers. He stood, turning his eyes to the wizard, who was subtly shaking his head.

"Stay close," He said to the man, and turned to the rest," Friends, please. Leave us. The queen has asked for it." The Pvethian men and woman, sigularly withoutquestion, stood, and stepped out of the room as quietly as could be expected from a group soldiers. They weren't assassins, after all. Once all had gone, he stood, and closed the doors behind them himself his ears keen ears attuned to any sound indicating any wayward eavesdroppers. None touched him, and he pulled the bar down, locking the door from the inside with a resounding thump.

"Sit," He said, softly, bit in a voice that could not be ignored. He waited until she did.

And with that, he turned on his heel, his eyes still trained on the elf before him. She was unpredictabble, and thus dangerous. She didn't think the way that a Pvethian would, and while she seemed more likely than anything to surrender, to save her people. But she was rash, emotional, and terribly, terribly proud. If postions had been reversed, he wasn't sure how he would have acted, or reacted. He was just as proud as she was, if not more, and, in his opinion, far more deadly.

"I play no games, Lady Divijah, and I expect you not to either. If you wish for us to be alone, and in respect for your swift surender, I granted your wish," He walked over behind her, his hands placed on her shoulders," I would kindly ask you to stop playing your games, and proceed with what you came here for."

[tirgesfu]

Jaraith

There was such raw hatred mixed with fury in Sabeck face as she spat so close to Jariath’s. He resisted the urge to grab hold of her. She was in his breath and out of it so quick even her scent was there and gone before he could enjoy it. When she dropped to the floor on the prowl to the door he had to stop himself from dropping onto his knees and slinking after her. He snickered at his own wildness. She brought it out of him. But Jariath knew he better be careful.

She knew it too as she asked him if he was ready to die. For some reason the thought of dying in the act of defying the barbarian King did not tastes so bad. Jariath could accept that fate. But if it was to be he wanted to make damn sure his death was more, did more, then just add to Jafeth’s pile of bones. He nodded and followed her to the hallway.

Why was this important she asked him. Jariath waited until they were on their way down a hallway before he attempted to answer. They ran down one section and stopped in a hidden alcove where some stone block of unattractive battle gear attempted to provide an awlful decoration. He moved closer to her and put his hand on her upper arm pulling her just slightly to his mouth and he whispered. “I need to hear. You are right that we have been the perfect picture of peaceful submission, the Queen leading us all. But I can feel the fire, the burning of ice, the deep sting of revenge. I need to hear her words as well as his.” He let his fingers go of her arm unsure of how she would take his touch.

He turned from her and looked back down the empty hallway. He trusted his Queen and was a loyal servant. In his mind his words were not treasonous or disrespectful. But to play the game that she was obviously playing with the brut king he needed to know his place and her intentions. He would never ask. That was not his place. Arella could. He could not. But if he could know what she offered, what she gave, or how she resisted he could better find a way to use this wild sense Sabeck was bringing out of him. And use it he defiantly intended.

Without looking back he closed his eyes and called with his mind to Arella again. Where is the war room? How can I get there? She would know where he was. She would know the direction they should take. Sabeck would slink through the stone and wood. Arella would guide. Jariath would follow them both.

[Vlexia]

White Queen


She watched him excuse every one of them; all of his generals, advisors, servants….everyone. She turned towards Arella And Devan, both who wore expressions of utter horror on their faces, but they both quietly left when they were instructed to do so. Once the King had closed the door, there was a moment of silence before he commanded her to sit in a deep voice, then turned around to walk up behind her.

I play no games, Lady Divijah, and I expect you not to either. If you wish for us to be alone, and in respect for your swift surrender, I granted your wish. I would kindly ask you to stop playing your games, and proceed with what you came here for.”

His large callused hands were on her shoulders, and she turned her head to the side at the heavy weight of his words. The White Queen smiled sweetly, turning up to look at him from her sitting position, her right hand reaching up to delicately rest her icy fingertips on his warm hands. “My dearest, Jafeth,” she called him by his first name only for the first time, now that they were alone. “I did not come here for anything. I was summoned. I have, sadly, already given you my swift surrender. You called me here to seal what you have already accomplished in achieving.”

The Queen then stood up slowly and turned to face him, her height almost matching his so she could look straight into his eyes. Her dark irises searched his cold ones back and forth as her face seemed too calm for comfort. She reached up slowly to place her right hand on the side of his neck, her fingers cupping around to the nape while her thumb stroked the underside of his jaw gently. Divijah’s eyes dropped down to the pulse that beat right under her hand, and she licked her pale lips that almost held a blue shade of ice on them. She chuckled softly.

“Tis still the day of the tournament; the day where the King must fight to keep his own throne. The clock almost strikes midnight…” She paused to glance over at the great clock on the side of the wall. The time read 11:53. Divijah turned back to Jafeth. “What would you do, my King, if you were to receive one last challenge to your beloved throne? Would you refuse that challenge?” She continued to lovingly stroke the rim of his jaw with her thumb as she spoke so smoothly, so softly, so lovingly. “Or would you accept it?”





Sabeck


Sabeck had the urge to growl at Jariath’s fingers as he grabbed her a pulled her close to him. His firey words were whispered softly in her ear, but she could hear the passion and the venom that dripped from his lips. When he dropped her arm, the Sakrait backed him up against the wall, pressing her frontal body to him, her hands planted on the wall on either side of his head, her lips close to his as she pinned him to the wall behind the great suit of armor they were hiding behind. Sabeck fought the sudden urge to run her tongue across his lips in an impulsive desire to taste the dark elf’s flavor, but she didn’t, instead choosing the growl softly at him instead. Nudging his head to the side like a great Lion would do to its mate when seeking attention, Sabeck purred against him, her face pressed to his, cheek to cheek, as she closed her eyes and whispered in his ear, “Then you shall hear everything, elf. I will take you to your Queen.”

And almost just as instantly as she had pressed against him, she leapt away, tracing down the hallway following an invisible path she somehow suddenly knew was there. Sabeck had a hunch she was being led to their destination, but her profound pride prevented her from asking Jaraith what exactly was going on, so she kept quiet about it and moved, ducking into spare hallways and closets the few times a servants or a lone guard too drunk to function wandered down the abandoned hallways.

And then they reached a dead end that held nothing but a piece of cord that hung from the ceiling. Sabeck somehow knew what to do, and she pushed a chair over, climbed on top of it, then pulled the cord down, which in turn pulled a section of the ceiling down, exposing a set of stairs that disappeared into the attic of the castle. “I don’t know how I knew that was there,” Sabeck admitted before crouching low to the ground then leaping up to evaporate into the darkness of the attic above. She knew Jaraith didn’t have the same agility of her kind, so she poked her head up from her perch and motioned for him to climb up by means of the ladder.

“I think I hear voices through the air duct over here. Hurry up and you can tell me if it’s the voice of your Queen or not.”

[Deamonbane]

Jafeth

His stomach tensed a bit at her proximity, his curiosity and anger flaring as she spoke to him in his first name, and seemed to be offering a challenge for his throne. Her words were soft, seemingly reasonable, hypnotic. Her icy cold fingers trailed over his warm skin, causing goose-bumps to rise over it, and he brought in a deep breath. This odd mix of danger, and the look in her eyes that seemed to pierce through to his very soul touched him deeply. He mentally kicked himself. He wouldn't - couldn't - fall for her tricks. Because, other than her magic, her words were the only true power that she had. And he had presenced earlier that it was quite a power too. He scowled. He had just, very kindly, asked her not to play her games with him. And he disliked having his requests denied.

"I brought you here," He growled deep in his chest," To present you and your people with a reasonable surrender, possibly involving autonomy, little or no taxes, and as little interference as possible from outside. However," He took her hand away from him, his fingers thrilling at the low temperature," You and your people have only tried to play game to undermine me and my authority, insulted my people, and have cause more mischief than I had given you credit for, originally," He scowled," I know about the guard in your room, and I apologize for his behavior. However, I am very, very close to rescinding my offer, holding you here as my prisoner, and making your people work for the greater good of mine," His mood was dark indeed.

"Games are not usually played by my people, Queen," He nearly spat that last part out," But when we play them, we play to win," He let her hand go," The crown of Pveth has not been held by one not of my people for a thousand years, queen, and do you know who was the last alien to hold it?" He pointed at her," Your people. We fought them off, and killed them. And, ironically enough, that was when we acquired our warring ways," He scowled and, if she had anything lethal planned for him, foolishly turned his back to her," Wouldn't it be the perfect kind of justice to eradicate your kind? Because, while I am for fun and games as much as the next being, no Pvethian will stand for an elf holding our crown again. And while I know your magic is strong, if it was strong enough to hold back my soldiers, you wouldn't have surrendered, would you?" He asked, turning back to her.

He smiled now," If your challenge is good enough, I suppose I would have no other choice but to accept. However, know that a challenge for my throne, win or lose, would probably end in a conflict in which your people would have no way of winning. So I ask again: What do you want for your people?"

[tirgesfu]

Jaraith

Her face, her growl, her breath was so close Jaraith was almost sure it would end with Sabeck’s lips on his. His back was against the wall and she pushed him in a way he would not accept from anyone. Anyone but her. He let her nudge his head to move his chin. Holding his breath as she placed her cheek on his and blew into his ear, he closed his eyes. But only for a second as she was there against him and then gone.

Jaraith sprang off the wall to follow her. With confident ease she prowled through the hallways sensing when anyone approached before they turned a corner and finding a hiding spot or closet to slip into. He admired her as he followed and trusted her to get them somewhere close. When the hall ended he thought perhaps his instinct had been wrong. But she jumped onto a chair and pulled a cord from the ceiling. Steps appeared. Not that she needed them. From the hole above him she called and without hesitation he followed again.

In the dark crawl space Jariath could hear voices below. They came from a vent just a few feet away. So he inched his way through using his elbows and knees. He leaned closer and heard the soft sound familiar to his ear. Her voice held the command she always had. But there was a sound of her voice as if she teased or stroked or ..Jaraith leaned further in surprise as he heard his Queen almost challenge. Did she say she wanted to fight him for his throne? He was not sure.

Jaraith almost held his breath again as he listened to the Beast King rattle on. His words were more than his Queens and unlike her he yapped on and on around her question. Games? He talks of games after they watched him play all day? Try to kill me! The king’s game called as they had to sit through an arena display. Another game of respect played when he hit anyone whom he did not approve of. He is only games and yet he can accuse his Queen. He thinks only he wins. Games. Jariath felt his muscles tighten.

Jaraith kept still but let his eyes look back to Saback. With slow movement he reached for her to come closer and listen at the same time nodding that she had done well. She had given more than promised.