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Post by FC4 on Nov 18, 2008 17:08:11 GMT
Maryella frowned worriedly at Wilfric, then got up, moving towards the door. Picking Wilfric's coat off the hanger along with her own, she turned back to him, slipping her arms through her sleeves while his coat was draped over her arm. After buttoning it up she moved over to the nobleman, unfolding his coat and moving to drape it over him.
"Yes, you should go take care of this immediately. But it is dark, chilly, and you are in no condition to be on your own. I do owe you for helping me home, after all." She explained.
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Post by webster52402 on Nov 22, 2008 3:30:20 GMT
Wilfric didn't move from his spot, resting his head on the top of his staff as he heard Maryella say that she was actually going to help him home. That wouldn't do... That wouldn't do at all. If he planned to return to the caverns where he held the Darkness, then he couldn't allow her to see him, a noble, waltzing into the Waterfront and going into a shack. That wouldn't exactly be good for his image. But perhaps that wasn't the only thing that he could do?
His eyes opened as she draped the coat around him, finally raising his head from the staff as he slipped one arm through his cloak, before switching his staff to the other hand and shrugging his other arm into place. "Thank you. Though I wasn't going to go running across the Imperial City to my newer home, I had planned to return to my old estate. The one that I lived in when my parents were still living... I haven't been inside of it in some time, but as it is, I think it's wisest."
Drawing his cloak around him a bit tighter, and pulling the hood up with one hand, he turned towards Maryella, tilting his head slightly to one side. "You're welcome to walk me there, of course, but it's right here in the Talos Plaza. I don't exactly have to go far." He explained, a thin smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. That wasn't a lie... He hadn't LIVED in the caverns where the other Shades were all his life, after all. He was a noble, not some damn cave rat. He didn't exactly live in squalor...
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Post by FC4 on Nov 22, 2008 3:37:23 GMT
"I don't care how far it is." Maryella replied stubbornly, wrapping her coat around her with one arm and grabbing Wilfric's with the other. "After what I just saw, you don't look fit enough to make it off my stoop, if you don't mind me saying." She led him to her door, opening it.
"I'm only going to take you there and make sure you are settled, then I have to get back home again. So don't fret. You know I can take care of myself."
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Fanchon
Waker
Scourge of Eberron!
Posts: 126
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Post by Fanchon on Nov 24, 2008 10:09:14 GMT
"Duchess Shelbitha Brisbane does have a nice ring to it. Sadly, it doesn't really serve to motivate me. You misunderstand my character, Alinor." Shelby replied wryly, taking a seat opposite her elven conversationalist.
"Titles and authority don't mean squat to me. Wealth means even less. I have given up many of my old ways, but... well, let's just say that I have invested in certain enterprises within the empire that have left me fairly wealthy, and with a certain amount of influence to boot. If I so desired, I could retire right now and live quite comfortably, with a bit of decent budgeting.", she said, crossing her legs and stretching in an almost catlike manner, ending with a deep yawn.
"And yes, I've noticed the desperation as well, although that may not be the correct word for it. I'd say urgency is a more accurate term. Ah, but I'm getting off the subject." she said calmly, leaning forward with her chin resting on the top of her crossed palms.
"I'm here for reasons which Ive already explained. But tell me, why should I remain? Are there reasons other than the obvious threat to my loved ones and the rather droll and cliched promises of power, or is there something else?", she asked, her eyes sagging slightly with exhaustion, but alerted to the slightest movement.
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Post by webster52402 on Nov 24, 2008 17:15:06 GMT
It appeared that Maryella had indeed made a good point about the cold, as when Wilfric stepped past her into the already pitch-colored night air, it was as though he had had to step through a thin film of ice. The contrast between the indoors, warmed by the various torches that burned all over the house, and the outdoors, which was approaching frigidness, was somewhat startling. Then again, Wilfric wasn't necessarily one to go gallivanting around in the night, unless he was absolutely needed to do so.
Despite his cloak, the chill bit at him, as he turned on his heel, nodding to Maryella. "This way..." He said quietly, wrapped up in his thoughts. Again, it occurred to him that he should have killed Maryella, that he should have disposed of her when she had become of no use to him. Yet, there would be no true meaning behind it. There would be no reason for him to slaughter her, if she wasn't truly in his way. She hadn't done anything just yet, and indeed, had done the exact opposite of hindering him. She hadn't reacted too harshly whenever Wilfric had collapsed, still seemed in the dark about the Darkness that roiled inside of Wilfric, had offered to escort him home out of the kindness of her heart, and been compliant and helpful before Wilfric's orders had changed. Could he simply turn and kill her after that? Sure, he had disposed of people before, like that bum that he had fed the poison apple to, but that had been something necessary, a precaution...
Out of the corner of his eye, he noted a small, wrought iron gate that announced that during his thoughts, the pair had actually reached their destination. He had nearly gone walking straight past it, and likely would have continued either until he was forced to turn, or he walked straight into a wall. How embarrassing, to think that he could be distracted so easily... "Well, Maryella, this is where I spent my first years of my life." He said, gesturing towards the gate.
Unlike all the other houses in the Talos Plaza, the thing that set this one apart was that it was retreated slightly away from the street, pushing itself back to create a small, rectangular yard in front of the entrance. This yard was surrounded on all sides by a small stone wall, that was more for a basic security than really worrying about keeping anyone out. Anyone of any skill could just clamber over the thing, or simply use the gate since it was never locked. It seemed like the gate had fallen into disrepair over the years that Wilfric had been away, though, and its once gleaming, smooth surface was spotted with rust...
Wilfric sat looking at the gate for the longest time, thinking about just where he was going, before deciding to deal with Maryella first. Resting a hand against the gate, his gloves protecting him from the coarse rust, he turned towards Maryella, bowing his head slightly. "You're welcome to come in, if you would like, though I warn you the place isn't exactly in the best of shape." He admitted, bemusedly pushing the gate open slightly. The rusted hinges gave a protesting squall, a sound that grated on Wilfric's nerves... He would have to fix that later, if only for his own sanity should he ever again need to return. "This place hasn't seen a visitor in a long, long time..."
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Post by FC4 on Nov 25, 2008 17:59:03 GMT
The manor did indeed look abandoned, and aging less than gracefully. As Wilfric opened the rusting gate, the creaking of the hinges grated at her ears and made Maryella cringe. As Wilfric moved towards the old building, she followed.
"And that is all the more reason I should make sure you are fine before I leave, then." She replied, closing the gate behind her. "It hasn't seen many visitors, or life by the looks of it. It would be hardly polite of me to leave you somewhere of questionable safety and amenity."
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Post by Vrek on Nov 26, 2008 1:52:59 GMT
Alinor waved his hand slightly, giving Shelby her point when she spoke of her motivations. "Perhaps I have misjudged you. You'll have to forgive my haste in judgment, as many of those I've met would need little else then love and wealth to convince them. But, I suppose that here we are far form ordinary, no?" He leaned back, "Perhaps adventure is what you crave? Slaying beasts, helping the helpless? If so, no matter the course of history, there will always be monsters to kill and treasures to find, that much is certain."
He leaned forward again, and held out his hand, his palm facing up, "Knowledge, maybe? Learn of kings long past and potions rare? Or maybe you would like a different kind of power?" He began twiddling his fingers, each movement causing a spark to leap from digit to digit. "Learn to manipulate the world around you, with the power dormant in us all?" He closed his fist, and the dusty air around his hand shot towards it, quickly forming a magical gauntlet around his closed wrist. He opened his hand, and the dust fell away, returning to it's old form. "Or curing the sick is more your pace?" His yellow hand, now covered in dust, began to glow blue with a magical inner light. "If you so wish it, I could teach you any of that, and more."
"But," he said, as the light within his hand flickered out of existence, "Your motivations are your own, and they can only be chosen by you. What would you want from life, young Shelby?"
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Post by webster52402 on Nov 26, 2008 3:11:53 GMT
Wilfric stood for a moment just inside of the gate, gazing at Maryella. She was particularly stubborn... But the fact that she was so thorough in making sure that Wilfric was alright was somewhat heartening. It had been a long time since anyone had cared whether he lived or died, though that was something that he had accepted onto himself long ago. It was... Refreshing... to know that despite his choice to become, in essence, a villain towards all of the Imperial City and those in general, that he could still have someone there. Perhaps, he would defy himself just a little, so that he could spare at least one...
A sallow smile pulled at the corner of Wilfric's lips, and he nodded, turning back towards the main house. "... Very well. Come in, then..." He said quietly, crossing the few steps that it took to cross the rather small rectangular yard. Luckily, he didn't have to step through the weeds, which were growing rather rampantly, as there had been a small path that led to the front door, but even there there were weeds poking determinedly up from between the small stones.
The door was nothing truly special, a simple oak panel that separated the outside world and the inside. Indeed, the only thing that showed that there was anything of any wealth inside, was the stained glass window that rested just at about head height. Normally, it would have been rather fancy, and indeed, Wilfric had used to enjoy sitting and gazing through that little window, fascinated with the way the light would change colors depending on what area of the window it filtered through, but now... Now, the glass was cloudy and milky, like it was a simple multicolored film that had been stretched across a small area of the door.
Wilfric's gloved hand wrapped around the door handle, pulling down slightly. A soft rattle emerged from the handle, as the lock tumblers froze, holding firm despite all these years. Good... That meant that at the least there would be nothing waiting for them, unless they had broken a window somewhere and crawled inside. A simple key was all that was needed, which Wilfric produced from a pocket of his cloak. Ironically, it was the same key that he had used to open the door to the shack in the Waterfront... Wilfric had had the doors there made to accept just one key, both as an act of convenience so that he didn't have to carry around multiple keys and flick through them... And as a sentimental value, so that he had a reason to hold onto something that still held his earliest of memories.
The tumblers clattered as the key slid into its depths, and then gave a loud snap when it turned, unlocking the door. It was almost quaint... It felt like he was returning to the scene of his first crimes, when he was preparing to cause the greatest chain of them that the Imperial City had ever seen.
A push on the door, and it creaked open, laying bare a hushed, shadow-drenched corridor. It wasn't anything special, just plain stone walls, but then, Wilfric and his family hadn't really had any true aesthetic appeal. Wilfric's fascination with fineries had come later on in his life, when he had taken up the mantle of the Darkness' favorite, and the catalyst of change. A wave of Wilfric's hand, a glowing red orb of a Flare spell, and a torch that rested beside the entry way sprung into life, forcing some of the chill and gloom away for the time being.
"Welcome to my family's original estate. Apologies, I wasn't able to truly give you a warm welcoming here." Wilfric said, with an air of strained cheer, as he took his first steps into the house. His footsteps echoed ominously, ringing through the deserted halls.
Here, he had killed his parents...
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Post by FC4 on Dec 2, 2008 21:42:49 GMT
Maryella followed Wilfric to the doorstep, holding her emerald dress by the skirt to keep the cloth from catching on the weeds that grew beside the walkway, desperately reaching out to try and cover the path as well. Her hand brushed against the steel dagger secreted away beneath her skirt; a dagger Wilfric knew of, but anyone who might await them within the decrepit house would not. But Wilfric didn't know of other things Maryella kept on her person. She relished having secret aces up her sleeve, there was just something about the resulting surprise of her attacker that made her feel victorious, for at least a time.
And ever since that time, she'd grown to despise feeling surprised, or helpless.
When the door opened to reveal the greyed, musty hallway, Maryella remained stern behind Wilfric, staring just over his shoulder into the dim beyond. She did jump slightly when he cast the flare, setting the torch alight and bathing the hall in soft orange luminescence. When Wilfric stepped forward, the sound of his boots upon the wood floor echoed ominously, but Maryella followed unwaveringly.
Just on the edge of the torchlight she stopped, brushing back a rogue strand of black hair in a meager sign of nervousness. For a moment she looked like her determination had dissolved as she bit her lower lip, but then she rose her right hand, held her middle finger to her thumb for nearly thirty seconds, and then snapped them swiftly.
A soft emerald light blossomed around her, as if the jewel-green dress she wore had suddenly acquired its own florescence. The gloom retreated under this glow, and Maryella moved forward, her hands clasped together as she strode about the entryway and turned to one door.
The door was, like the entrance, rather plain. In fact, so far everything about the property had seemed rather plain. Placing a hand upon the aging wood and bushing the door open, however, Maryella discovered the first room of the place, and found it sufficiently abandoned.
It may have been a study or lounge of some sort, once. There was a fireplace across from the large doorway, made of simple brick and marble top. Around that was sparse furniture, consisting of two chair shapes and a table form, as well as benches of some sort behind that; all were draped in cloth, to protect from the dust of time. Shelves lined sections of the walls, and old books took residence, looking unmoved for some time.
Maryella sneezed, the very action causing a cloud of heavy dust to launch around her, floating airborne like a noxious cloud, and forcing her to sneeze yet again. She sneezed a third time as she retreated from the room, shutting the door behind her and holding her face in her hands.
"Beg pardon... the dust is pretty thick."
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