Celaira — Roleplayer Guild

The Dollmaker. A man known for his penchant to craft unbelievably powerful boss weapons, sat to the left of the Grand Master; head careened down to look at the accused through the shadows of his «Regent of the Masquerade» hood. The man’s body language was stoic, though there was a clear emotion of disappointment, or possibly anger visible in his posture. Even hidden by the equipment that he wore, it was impossible for those in the guild to not know it was him. The Grand Master’s left hand. 

By his side as always was the woman he had made his bride not that long ago. Hidden by the equipment they were required to wear, he could feel her eyes intently watching him. 

She, herself, was largely new to the Brotherhood, and he knew that this was her very first summit meeting. He was curious how she was handling it. After a moment or two, he leaned over to her and whispered, ”So, what do you think?”

The woman’s hooded visage turned to him, her body language imperceptible. ”If I’m being honest… I think that his power has gone to his head.” Her voice was a low whisper, allowing only the Dollmaker to hear her words. 

The man smiled thoughtfully. She seemed so innocent at times.

Just as he was about to say something else, the change in Hikaru’s tone caught his attention, and he found himself looking back down at the boy. This type of talk didn’t bode well for the Guild as a whole. It was in that same moment that the boy decided to prove himself by attacking Vegnya’s Right Hand. 

With a flash of red, and the widened eyes of realization from the man who sat at Vegnya’s right, it was made clear that the boy had succeeded as DEAD appeared above the man’s name, followed swiftly by his avatar shattering into nothing. 

The Dollmaker rose abruptly from his seat, only to find himself shielding his wife as Vegnya’s words caught up with his panicked mind. 

After a moment his wife’s hand touched his chest. ”It’s over, love.” Her voice was warm against his ear, allowing him a comfort he hadn’t entirely realized he needed. It was in that moment that he felt a strange sensation wash over him. 

In an instant, he was filled with an incomprehensible rage. 

As if she could feel the change, his wife, Raema reached out to touch him. She had removed her «Regent of the Masquerade», allowing him to see the worry on her face. 

How he hated that look. 

As his eyes met hers, something dark began to well up inside of him. She was holding him back. Ever since he had met her, he hadn’t been able to think of anything else. Everything was about her. How was her day? Had she been safe on the upper floors? Was she doing alright? Did she need her weapon sharpened? Did she need a new weapon? 

His eye twitched. 

He hadn’t been able to work through a day without wondering about her. It had affected his job. He had botched orders because of her.

He hated her. 

”You’re holding me back.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Raema’s head tilted to the side, worry written all over her face as she watched her husband’s demeanor change. He seemed so… angry. It was unlike him. 

As she was about to ask him if he was alright, he said something. However, in the chaos that was going on around them, she was unable to catch exactly what he had said. ”What did you say, darling? I couldn’t hear you.” Her voice was gentle, but held a clear note of fear in it. 

She was understandably afraid. Why had everyone started attacking each other? What was going on?

After a moment of pause, the Dollmaker smiled at his wife, ”I said, you’re holding me back!” As he repeated himself, he drew his twin swords. Both had been crafted by his own hand from a floor boss’s leftover carcass. They were strong, and so was he. 

Raema, with fear in her eyes, took a step away from the Dollmaker, her body visibly shaking. 

Why had he drawn his swords? What was he planning to do? 

As if in answer to her silent questions, the Dollmaker struck out at her, landing a blow along her side. 

As her health began to drop, her eyes widened further, her face contorted with a mixture of pain, betrayal, and fear. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breath.

She was terrified.

Taking advantage of her being frozen with fear, the Dollmaker put away one of his swords, and picked up his wife by her throat. ”Goodbye, my love.” He spoke, a twisted smile on his lips as he raised his sword to stab her through the heart.

 Raema struggled for breath as her husband held her by her throat. Her mind was reeling from the shock of the situation. She didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t kill him… she just couldn’t! However, as he drew back his sword, the realization that he was indeed going to try and kill her set in.

In that moment, her mind snapped. Eyes still wide with fear, and brimming with tears, she equipped her sword. 

Just as he began his thrust, he stopped short, his eyes slowly widening. He hadn’t seen her draw it. His head moved so that he could look down at his chest, where her sword was firmly planted. His health swiftly plummeted until they were both greeted with a familiar sight: DEAD. 

In the instant before he shattered, he put Raema down on the ground, his smile softening. He said something to her, but she was unable to make it out before his avatar disappeared forever. Once he was gone, she was left on her knees with tears rushing down her face. 

Gods help whoever tried to attack her next.

Raema | Players Dispatched: 1 | PC’s Engaged: None
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