Bert Macklin

Court of Nuhl

What was the phrase that Benjamin continuously pattered on about? "A mortal's greatest asset was their passion?" The vampire often droned on about mortality offering a unique strength in their will. As Donovan looked down on the barely breathing mortal, however, he wondered if Benjamin would believe this mortal had any passion left in them. Whatever was left in that head probably couldn't string together a thought, let alone speak or move or anything. The more Donovan looked at whatever was left, the more he felt that he wouldn't need to waste effort into cutting the loose thread. If there was such a thing as fate or destiny, he wouldn't live through the night.

Donovan outright scoffed at Chadwick's mention of Dylan's likely circumstance should he live. A fate worse than death, that was. Perhaps he would smother the thing as a mercy.

"Tragic," he said. "Even dogs are put out of their misery instead of having to suffer."

That may have been too harsh, he thought. Donovan wouldn't linger on the topic for too long as he wanted a second opinion on the rescue. This Astorio was much like the rest, yet he seemed more composed than the variety of brutish Astorios he had encountered in other social settings. Donovan couldn't tell if Chadwick simply knew how to act outside of a fight or if there was anything more there. He would need to be more careful in the future; should he cross the Astorio in a test of strength, Chadwick had the upper hand. Getting caught by the Inquisitor would help downplay his own abilities, but he wasn't looking for a repeat session. Especially if that blond mage was all too happy to let him fry.

"The capability of the rebellion princess surprised me," he said. "As did...whatever the purple one did. Gravity magic, I believe."

@Scribe of Thoth

Court of Nuhl

The symphony of battle had come to an end and all Donovan was left with was dissatisfaction. He had hoped the enemy would have been more organized and caught them off guard on their exit. Certainly a disappointment from his perspective. Where was the challenge, where was the effort? They must have known that failure wasn't tolerated, and yet they skipped right out into the trees and were promptly whisked away. How shameful. The only solace he had was that what awaited the ones that hadn't passed were in for poor time with their Head Inquisitor. Their extraction was flawless and everyone arrived in one piece. Chadwick, the rebellion princess, the little purple one, the one who was content to let him fry, and the rescuee. The fact that they arrived with an extra was a small wrinkle that needed to be corrected but otherwise Donovan was pleased with what he saw.

The vampire swiped some dirt off his sleeve and clicked his tongue in disapproval. He would need to replace his clothes. The lightning had seared his buttons and a quick self-inspection revealed that his outfit had numerous burns. He half-listened to Commander Agreve's gruff instructions and looked to the man of the hour. Roan was safe and in need of an inspection as was routine. With any luck Julien would be the one to inspect him. Otherwise, he did not anticipate any further problems. The take over would likely occur later on and they would rendezvous then. Overall Donovan would consider his mission a resounding success.

He watched the princess make an attempt at raising everyone's spirits. Adorable, he thought to himself. Baby's first mission being a success must have raised her spirits. Good. It's no fun to tease if she lacks self-confidence. He matched her cheeriness with a bright smile and hoped it would annoy her but held back from talking just yet. He watched silently as she gave Roan assurance and gave the young man a nod of his own. He then turned his attention to the mage on the ground before looking to the Astorio for his opinion.

"What are the odds this one pulls through?" he asked. "I've heard electrotherapy is some primitive form of torture, but I can't imagine any mortal surviving much of it."

Court of Nuhl

The satisfaction of metal slicing through flesh and throwing the scent of blood into the air was immensely gratifying. Donovan watched Hasgad's expression morph into one of shock. Why were they always surprised? Mages were far too confident, they often forgot how fragile they were past their magic and spellcasting. Donovan was too eager to remind Hasgad that despite his title, his power, his prestige, he was nothing to his superior. He would be remembered only for his failure and mocked beyond his death. Perhaps any family would mourn him if the fates were kind. Of course, the poor fool had no idea that his sole purpose was to fall now, so it was a kindness on Donovan's part to end it quickly. Alas, his kindness went unappreciated. Much like a cornered wild animal, Hasgad lashed out by making an attempt at bringing down Donovan with him. An anticipated move, but theory only carried so far without practice. The vampire was stuck in place, the lightning tightening his grip. Any command his mind made to his body was wholly ignored, much to his frustration. Any mortal who was in his situation would have likely perished by now; the sheer amount of voltage Hasgad drew into their bodies was substantial. It would almost be impressive were it not so cumbersome.

His rescue came in the form of an either brave or stupid ploy by the same boy meant to be rescued. This must have been what they called dramatic irony; now it was the prey attacking the predator. Hasgad crumpled shortly after and Donovan was freed. Shaking off the effects of the lightning would not come easily. His fingers twitched without cause, much to his annoyance. He looked down at the injured mage with vague amusement for a second before assessing the situation around him. Victory was at hand and the rebellion princess declared that it was time to leave. Donovan knelt down and pulled Roan to his feet.

"I owe you my thanks," He said.

Donovan found his foot hitting air to his confusion. Contarini did like his little tricks, didn't he? What Donovan saw, however, was beyond a simple gravity pull. His hand immediately snatched Roan to prevent the injured mage from floating up too much but he made sure to move them with the flow instead of fighting it. They were conveniently pulled towards the exit. He made no comment as Contarini pulled along Dylan in the moment but he did watch him. There was little point to that, he felt; if the mage lived, he would be robbed of most of his motor abilities, he reckoned. But that was a loose thread easily cut. Donovan had both feet planted firmly on the ground once the magic was gone. He could see the commander in the distance and wondered how long he had been there.

"They're certainly possessive of our charges," Donovan said. "If we had something to block the door, I assume we would have enough time to leave, if need be. Unless we ambush them in the trees."

Court of Nuhl

This was the first time in what had to be months where a simple sentence elicited a curiously raised eyebrow. Hasgad was displeased with Dionne’s assessment. Donovan was inclined to agree. He wouldn’t call the man courageous or intelligent by any means, of course. The current situation was akin to a small dog that had barked once too many times at a breed much bigger than he. He was not bright nor talented and only had confidence in situations he was more probable to win. The ordinary would call him practical. Donovan agreed with the little Dionne; this Inquisitor was little more than a petulant bully who was surprised his prey had a fighting chance.

He watched Lyra with curiosity and a little concern. Her taunt didn’t work. Unsurprising. The introduction of a breeze on the back of his neck brought byt no comfort. Another problem? Or a potential savior? He would have to leave it to the oddball mage. Normally, he would have left the Inquisitor to the capable Astorio. Until the little Dionne acted. He could not have predicted that she would forgo negotiations altogether. A bleeding heart she was, but she must have had a lot of confidence. The results were explosive and he would say was a step in the right direction as Contarini was out of the Inquisitor’s grasp. Yet Lyra had charged in on her own. This simply wouldn’t do.

Donovan took off immediately and avoided stepping on anything metal should Hasgad recover on time. The goal at this instance was the safety of the much too spirited fire mage. She certainly likes to leap into things. And if I were to play the part of rescuer, would it annoy her more? he pondered. He leapt over one of the fallen mages and joined Lyra at close range, one hand acting to plunge the dagger into Hasgad’s side and the other forcing itself between Dionne and Hasgad with the intent to separate them at the next sign of danger.

Court of Nuhl

Donovan had underestimated Contarini's commitment to murdering a fellow mage. The crackling electricity met with its target and engulfed the mage as it filled the air with the delightful scent of burnt flesh. While he was not the vampire to lose his composure it did surprise him just how pungent it could be up close. His own assassination methods were typically quieter and quicker. In that way by the time the body was discovered he was already gone. This experience was a helpful reminder to not rely too much on his snap judgements; especially if Contarini was the vengeful type. Donovan would have to watch the boy and his development going forward if only out of curiosity.

The scene had changed by the time Donovan changed his attention to the Inquisitor. The idea of one taking a hostage wasn't completely foreign but it wasn't necessarily a concern. Contarini was of no use to him and his attention had been on the little Dionne, who was predictably less than pleased. He could tell the gears in her head were turning as she was presented with few options. Chadwick had the right of it but Donovan caught wind of his barely audible words. He wasn't sure about trusting Fontaine with such a task. The mage was a little too charitable and a little too nonchalant about the wrong things. However, he would not interfere. So long as Miss Dionne and the rescue were secured, the rest didn't matter.

Speaking of the Dionne, she decided taunting the enemy was a response. Donovan ensured he was not simply standing around as he used every bit of patience to cautiously move himself into a better position. In this case, the only one who was in danger of a thrown knife would be Contarini if he decided to move in the wrong direction. Seeing how cold the mage became was vaguely amusing and Donovan was interested to see how this would play out. Once he reached his desired position, he remained perfectly still with his dagger in one hand and a knife in the other wearing a pleasant smile of amusement.

Court of Nuhl

The symphony of a fight was akin to listening to a familiar song on the radio: it was better heard on record but was still pleasant to listen to even if it had the occasional hiccup. Donovan had a preference for hiding in the shadows as he felt there was more satisfaction in the split second of doom in his target's eyes before life left them. Yet the resistance battled out in the open with few expert in the ways of assassination. Or rather, their attempts at stealth ended in similar situations to the one they were in at the moment. For once he would not lay the blame at anyone's feet as the appearance of the inquisitor was a surprise even to him. The survival of more than one of the imprisoned was the more pressing issue but he assumed that by the end of the night there would only be one rescued.

He gave the inquistor half an ear as he studied the surviving mage. Air was a tricky element to contend with and his throwing knives were better served as distractions. The scream from Contarini and the sound of the doors slamming shut did curve his lips into something resembling a smile, but the sudden electricity in the air was far more pressing. The vampire took care to stay away from the sudden currents but clicked his tongue. He always minded his steps but the electricity combined with the air mage could potentially spill some of their own blood. As the thought crossed his mind, he decided that he would have to force the mage's hand. Astorio could occupy the Inquisitor until the mage was dealt with, and then the pair would be able to overpower the mage together.

Donovan watched the electricity crackle and moved quickly. He doubted he could beat lightning but he had perfect control over himself, eyes honed in on his path. Bum rushing was tactless and for the fools, but he wanted the air mage's attention to be fully on him. He held his dagger tightly, footsteps heavy as he outright lunged at her with every intention of slicing her throat.

Court of Nuhl

Paying no mind to the elevator was the expected choice. Donovan would think that one of them should have held back as it was likely those same complainers would likely show up once the rescue mission would spring in earnest. Were he a betting man he would think they would be wise not to descend at the sound of the alarm, but between fleeing a fight and having to explain yourself to the Empire on why your prisoners escaped, Donovan assumed the latter was much more frightening. The key to resolving such a predicament would be to avoid getting into it in the first place but that privilege was for the intelligent. The little Dionne opted to charge forward, an admirable decision based wholly on his words. He had known the answer and it didn't surprise him that she put more weight on the lives of others than violence, even if it would cover their tracks.

The plan was straightforward and simplistic, not unlike the person giving it. It would do for the moment. Donovan gave himself precisely three seconds to consider his own arsenal and weighed which knives were most likely to do the most damage. Chadwick would lead the charge and clear the path which left Donovan as the one to clean up the mess. Every sense he possessed was honed as he made his decision and procured half a dozen knives from his pockets. The likeliness of pivoting for a metal mage was slim but he was always prepared for the worst.

At Chadwick's mark, Donovan was hot on his heels. While the guard had been spared Chadwick's fury he was not as lucky to avoid Donovan. The last thing the mage would see was the black-haired vampire flicking his wrist towards him: the pair of knives moved at an impeccable speed aimed to blind. The rest of his knives were aimed at the other guard until Roan began to move. The temptation to test his accuracy strained his muscles but he gave Contarini three seconds to remedy the situation. Said mage at the very least resolved the hiccup and Donovan unleashed the rest of his knives at the other guard. He withdrew his dagger from its sheathe and assessed the room; surely, that much noise was enough to get the attention of the facility.

Court of Nuhl

Donovan was wholly pleased with the interaction that followed; Chadwick intuited his intention and followed up. He didn't initially plan to distance himself from the rebellion princess but he couldn't help himself, she was too expressive, too easily annoyed. The glare she gave both Chadwick and him was absolutely precious. He was tempted to give her an apology just to ensure he could remain close but having her try to keep him at arm's length while he ignored it would be more fun. He hoped the other two would be able to give him half as much entertainment. Fontaine didn't fail to deliver as his suggestion of walking on the walls made Donovan outright laugh. Subdued, of course, but the thought process of mortals was absolutely fascinating. He didn't bother with a response as he agreed with Chadwick and it was time for them to move. He looked to Lyra expectantly and once she apologized gave her what he hoped was a dazzling smile.

He looked to the elevator as he heard the mechanisms come to life. They were going to have their first potential encounter sooner than later. The conversation that followed was dull and nothing he didn't already know but he would have to give Lyra a little credit as her guess was correct. A freak who fries, that wording also concerned him for a moment. As they say, nothing worth getting in life is easily taken. The group would need to make a decision: do they run ahead and avoid detection, or do they confront the current looming threat?

"How does one 'fry' a mage? What a curious choice of words. The ones we're looking for seem to be below," Donovan said. "We could ask the pair what they mean since they're descending. What say you?" He did make it a point to look directly at Lyra as he crossed, unseen by the camera. One could say his eyes were shining with anticipation of her response.

Court of Nuhl

How do you tell someone that they weren't a problem but instead a solution? Donovan was entirely amused as Lyra spoke and made no effort in hiding it. She was a little more observant than he had anticipated but it made things much more entertaining. He could very well directly challenge her now to make things more difficult. He could apologize and follow her lead as inexperienced and fragile as it was. But was there any entertainment value in kowtowing to the desires of a spoiled princess used to having her way? He would argue that both he and Chadwick were playing their parts as followers just fine. There must have been some intimidation from their lax demeanor but confusing boredom with disobedience was a rookie mistake. She was not his to correct but he was happy to put her in her place nonetheless.

"You're mistaken on whatever judgments you've reserved for our ilk, my dear," Donovan said. He was sure to be stern in his discipline. "Questions were asked. Answers were given. A good leader is aware of the tools at their disposal and operates under the assumption that all are of one mind. Everyone present has chosen to be here as well. Remember this well."

Stating the obvious was always a pointless endeavor but he wanted as much transparency as possible. He was certain enough was said and delving into a pointless argument would result in lower morale and wasted time. Fortunately he kept himself chipper and made sure to punctuate his lecture by pinching Lyra's cheek. It was likely to annoy her enough to want to move on rather than go back-and-forth. He glanced over at his fellow vampire with a small half-shrug; while he doubted they'd remain comrades-in-arms, he doubted the Astorio cared as much.

Court of Nuhl

This is all worth it just to witness this little scene, Donovan thought. Watching the Dionne-Luscin child speak her thoughts on the mission was endlessly entertaining in the best way. He was pleased to see her confidence and agreed with her logic even if he was still fascinated with the fact that she was right in front of him. Sending the heir to the rebellion on a rescue mission spoke volumes. He almost wished he could have anticipated this, but even he never would have guessed that their leader would let her only daughter out of safety, let alone sending her into the field. Perhaps it was an act of rebellion from a cooped up child. Perhaps it was just coincidence. Regardless of the why, Donovan was tickled pink in every way that wasn't physical.

He half-listened to Quinn's response as he instead watched as Quinn's hands were bundled in what he assumed were nerves. Last he recalled, this one was a recent addition and had served until recently. He didn't act like it; the jittery movements and glazed over eyes were kinks usually hammered out within the first decade of a mage's life. Donovan had made a note to look into that more on the off-chance it would become a problem. He didn't anticipate it interfering too much but he would make sure to keep an eye on him nonetheless. The last mage was a transfer from Illitas so he would not expect any problems from him yet. The only true wild card was likely to be the Astorio. Even the battle-hungry were predictable but this one was a little smarter than the usual brutes. What a crew.

"And what of the possibility that the trio is separated?" Donovan asked. Was it cruel to ask a question that you already knew the answer to?