Ichthys — Roleplayer Guild

First off, I must say I am impressed in all of you so far, for displaying such excellent cooperation, immersion, initiative and creativity. Now, allow me to answer all of your questions. :)

@lydyn: Which bodies?
- If the four hunter bodies, I don't really think they would be allowed to investigate all to much, since no one really knows what caused the Lord and Lady's deaths, so despite the chance that the 4 hunters were killed by the Vilicus being high, its not enough for anyone to come and investigate them, especially if its for the intent of trying to connect it to the Lord and Lady. The connection is too unknown right now, and cooperation isn't really happening all too much in the coven because of the division. Most are keeping to their own things and wary of letting anyone else cross into their territories, for fear that it might be used against them to some extent. Pride and selfishness and fear, as of the moment, for most people, is greater than their desire to get to the bottom of most of the mysteries and conflicts. That said, it is ultimately up to Vexia (Raptorman), since the bodies would be sent to the crypts. Thus, you should ask him for the final answer.
- If you mean the bodies of the Lord and Lady (before they were buried that is), then I don't think Jocasta in particular would be allowed, despite her friendship to Flowryde. For similar reasons, included the compounded variable that Jocasta is well-known mercenary; it'd be obvious why some nobles would be apprehensive about allowing a mercenary into the room of their beloved leaders.

@Castor: First, magic doesn't really have a signature depending on who uses it because of its ambiguity and universal presence. That said, as mentioned, different coven do conduct their spells and magic differently, so little techniques or methodologies could distinguish a coven, if one knows their mechanisms. That said, considering the Vilicus have yet to make a large, formal attack, the coven can not really identify the trademarks of a Vilicus witch. Who's even to say this mysterious stranger is Vilicus? :P Still, if you character observed the mysterious assailant amidst the fog and smoke, then they might be able to tell that the particular witch's spells seemed to be done with only motions (no use of materials or verbal components) and very slight and complex ones at that, certain patterns in the fingers and hands, certain twitches in the wrists and even some changes in stances. The D'Cerf witches would probably be unable to identify the clear patterns however. Obviously though, the witch's spells were meant to be difficult to be observed; they might not be new to "sneak" attacks and inconspicuity.

@Schradinger: That's fine. One post can be a sort of flashback (even a collaboratory post; I suggest Titanpad for collaborations), and the other present time. :) The next round won't start until the all "present day" responses are made though, so take your time.

@Milieu: Titling your posts for clarification could definitely help everyone. :)

Thunk. Thunk.

"Enough of this useless chatter! Someone just tell me what happened?!"

"It was an ambush, sir. It was nothing more than a simple hunting party going out to catch some food for the castle."

"Then, how did THIS happen?!" The man in charge, stalwart in character, violently indicated to the grotesque mass.

Before him were the corpses of four members of the coven; relatively low in status, they were nothing more than hunters. The man knew them well. One now had a fatherless child, the other left behind a widow. Here they were. Their faces having been deformed beyond recognition, their bodies stripped of clothing and the letter 'v' etched into the flesh on their backs. They had been piled rather carelessly into a simple mound by the roaming guardsmen that found them, so here they were gathered together as the daily, hunted game, their red marks and naked bodies open to public view.

They were in the public square of the castle, a large courtyard area that rested directly outside the entrance to the castle proper, wherein the Lord and Lady used to rule from. In the center of the larger square was an elevated stage made of wood. From here, messages and decrees were usually given to the coven, but usually it was a place where executions and punishments were delivered. Now though, it was where the D'Cerf victims were being showcased.

Two guardsmen stood on the stage, having carried the corpses on a large piece of coarse fabric, similar to a sort of stretcher. They were exhausted from the task of having carried four corpses, but the presence of the other man ensured that they remained alert and attentive, attempting to stand straight and proper. The man on the stage with them was the Captain of the Guard, Sir Ceneric Adamo, a rather imposing figure of an unusually average stature. His appearance may not have been one of authority if not for the testimonies of his prowess written on his skin, and the noble emblem of the D'Cerf embossed on his shoulder plate.

"We don't exactly know, sir. We can only guess that the Vilicus were involved," responded one of the guards promptly, an unsavory blend of contempt, despair and terror in his face.

"I can tell that much!" barked Ceneric, furious at the loss of D'Cerf lives.

By now, a crowd was starting to gather around the platform. Whispers made their way through the growing mass of people, followed by cries of vengeance and shrieks of horror. Ceneric took this moment to address the coven, as more and more made their way to the square to see what all the fuss was about.

"This is what happens each day the Vilicus are allowed to live! This is what they bring with their existence: suffering, death and loss. They are a disease upon the realm, a sickness that we must seek to cure! To them, we are nothing but sacks of flesh, puppets of bone. We are of worth to them, only in our pain. See! Look what they have done to one of our own!" Ceneric, hoisted and flung one of the dead bodies onto the ground before him, causing some of the people to jump back in surprise or disgust. He made his point, fiery tears streaming down his face.

Ceneric proceeded to unsheathe his blade and point it to the sky, in an act of revenge and bravery and inspiration. He said nothing for a time, unable to find the words to speak. Instead, another came up next to him, the Viscountess Viola Anguis, a noblewoman of both ill and favorable repute. She placed a hand on Ceneric's shoulder, as she began to address the crowd, unusually calm in light of the recent events.

"People, friends, family, I speak to you now with a heavy heart," she took a pause that seemed too excellent to not have been unrehearsed, "We have just received word from one of the distant coven that we are no longer considered fit to rule in their eyes. They renounce our protection and will no longer pay to use our rightful dues. More are no doubt to follow."

Another perfectly executed pause.

"It is because of this that I would like to let you all know how much I care for you all, and that, should the time come to choose a leader, that I would be glad to have such an honorable title bestowed on me. We need rightful leadership to have our coven in the right. I will provide that. My people, no longer will we continue to lose our prestige, our place in the realm. With a leader, we will rise once more, as phoenix from the ash!"

Viola finished her little nomination, her face portraying an act of utter sincerity, except for that slightly smug arch that was subtly growing on her brow.

Her speech was met with both applause and insults. In a moment, the division of the coven was made prominent, as the crowd turned to chaos. For more than a few minutes, bickering and brash, boisterous behavior became the primary action of the crowd. Even small scuttled ended up happening.

The viscountess did nothing to stop this; in fact, she made her way off from the stage to leave the mutilated corpses and the broken captain by themselves. Of course, before she could leave, she was stopped by one of the lower members of the Coven, one nothing more than a beggar and rogue. If correct, her name was Mona Tale.

"Your words are venomous!" the girl shouted at the viscountess, "It is nobles like you that have brought this upon the coven! You are our downfall!"

The beggar pushed the viscountess over, causing the dress of the lady to trip her and resulting in her falling to the ground. Now, the beggar stood over the viscountess.

"Now, you will know what it's like to be below!"

The beggar picked up her foot to stomp on the face of the viscountess, but before the rebel could, a sudden gust of strong winds stole the rogue's balance, making her wobble and topple beside the viscountess.

"Are you okay, m'lady?" asked the viscountess' bodyguard sympathetically, as he picked her up.

"I'm perfectly fine, Bacchus. That misguided insect was no threat," responded Viola as she brushed the dirt off of her dress, and made a quicker stride into the safety of the Castle Proper. Hurriedly, the lady disappeared behind the large, intimidating set of wooden doors that marked the entrance to the Castle Proper.

This left the crowd by itself. At this point, things were not calming down in the slightest. Then, suddenly a booming voice broke the chaos.

"EVERYONE SETTLE DOWN!"

It was Ceneric; his sword was bright as a beacon, blinding the crowd for a moment.

"This is why those coven are taking our power from us. We are not one unit. EVERYONE CEASE YOUR CONFLICTS AND LISTEN. If we want to restore the D'Cerf name back to the pedestal the our Lord and Lady worked tirelessly to get to, then we must act. Tonight, we will be communing with the Occult in a formal ceremony to decide on a new ruler. All people are expected to participate. It is for the good of the people."

The Captain dismissed everyone from the square. Some newly deceased bodies were sent to the crypt.

--- 7 HOURS LATER ---

It was dark; the time was approaching midnight. The moon was shadowed by some of the nightly clouds that remained in the sky. The only illumination was by the candlesticks that abundantly dotted the holy temple.

In the middle of the circular building, was an elevate portion of stone floor. In the center of that was a large fire, contained within a stone border. The fire seemed iridescent, composed of more than the usual red and yellow. Smoke rose into a hole in the domed roof, releasing into the night. Around the fire sat the nobles in elegant pews of wood. Behind the rows of the nobles were average wooden pews wherein the majority of the coven sat. Finally, some of the people stood at the backs of the wall, edged away.

Everyone was silent. Usually, the high priestess would welcome everyone to the occultist events in the temple, but there was no high priestess. Instead, a rather young lady, a devout occultist was beside the fire, ordered to act in the high priestess' absence. She was the Priestess Lu Sini, and she wore robes of white, symbol of the Moon and White Stag, two objects considered to be highly magical and even divine, somehow connected to the mysterious Occult.

The fire and the girl seemed to be friends, well acquainted to one another. The heat and light of it didn't seem to bother her, as she stood mere inches from the flaming tips of the fire's tongues. Her face was solemn, somber even, as if she was pensive and sorrowful about something ambiguous, not particular, just a sort of general sadness.

Boom. Slam.

The doors to the temple were closed, indicating the beginning of the ceremony.

Almost immediately, the fire grew into a sort of pillar of various hues, although predominately those colors natural to a fire. It was unknown who caused the fire to do such a thing, but whispers in the coven made the assumption that it was the priestess or perhaps a manifestation of the mysterious Occult itself. As the fire increased in size, the candles in the temple were blown out in a moment, unsettling many. This left only the fire to use its glow in order light the temple, but the colors it gave out were pale and soft.

"Coven, we are here to find guidance regarding our search for a new leader," the priestess spoke softly and slowly, as if in a dream or haze. Somehow her voice carried throughout the temple, audible to all, "In a moment, I will ask you all to close your eyes and place your hands at your hearts. The Occult is ready to speak."

The priestess made some gestures and spoke in an archaic language, unknown to any outside of the clergy, and after a few seconds, the priestess spoke again, "Everyone, close your eyes and place your hands on your hears now. Please do not open them at all, no matter the sensations you'll feel."

As everyone would close their eyes, including the priestess, the white pillar of fire would dissipate in a burst of air, leaving only the moon to shine into the temple through the hole in the roof. The gust of wind would feel as a rush, saturating everyone in the room but causing different sensations to each person. To some it was warm, others cold, and to even other's it gave specific sensations and memories.

After about a minute of silence and feeling, the priestess chimed again, "Open your eyes and remove your hands."

Fog had made the atmosphere thick, the glow of the moon had been dulled, and everything was given a slight haze.

On the priestess' hands were strange markings, like ink in color but as blood in substance. It stained her flesh. She nodded, as if to encourage others to look at their own hands. Everyone would have this inky, bloody substance staining their skin into a different marking.

"The Occult has spoken, yet I am displeased to say that I cannot decipher what these markings mean. Time will only tell, but we will do our best to decipher this mystery. Please, make your way back to your quarters, rooms and homes."

As everyone would begin to make their way out, the doors open again, seven individuals would hear the voice of the priestess beckon to them, by calling them by name. These seven individuals were a bladesinger mercenary, a biomancer alchemist, a soul trapper, a blind warrior, a raven huntress, a glyph witch and a scholarly scrivener.

The priestess awaited for these seven at that same centerpiece platform, where not even ash was left behind by the fire. Only she remained in the temple, other than the seven. Once they would reach her, the priestess would speak.

"The Occult has spoken to you in a different way. I have little interpretation for you, other than you will be pivotal in the D'Cerf future. Or perhaps not. The Occult works far too mysteriously. I have beckoned to you all, to encourage you all to be prepared to act. I cannot prophesy regarding the future, but it would be unwise for you all to not heed my warning that something is approaching that will change the coven. More than the deaths of our dear Lord and Lady. Please, make your ways to bed. It is late."

The priestess would begin to escort the seven out of the temple. Suddenly though, as they would make their way, the priestess would collapse. A silent figure would stand at the doors of the temple, which had been closed again.

He did not look like a friend, and his appearance was obscured by long robes and a deep hood. Many various amulets and other accessories, most with sigils and runes and the like on them were visible. The blood of innocents stained the fabric. He wielded a large a blade and a ball of fire in the other.

Although silent, the noise of what can only be likened to empty screams of the dead, hollow and distant but still audible.

The man began to let out the fire, as a flamethrower, beginning to burn the mostly wooden temple. Smoke began to replace fog. The seven had little time to act. After most of the temple was sent ablaze, he would leave under the cover of the embers and smoke.

Why had no one else noticed the man and reacted? Where were the guards?

Rafters would begin to fall, and the foundations of the temple would begin to rumble with the scorching by the fire. The seven would need to leave if they planned to survive.

Ichthys Member

something fishy

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