Argot takes a sip of his wine to give himself time to weigh what Cladissa has just revealed, and Adrenia gasped at the revelation.
Sensing the tension, Starfang flitted down and crawled across the bench to look at Argor. ::Go to her.:: he commanded it, to which the little dragon nodded and with a flap of its wings landed beside Cladissa and laid his head in her lap.
Argor thinks a moment more before looking her in the eyes and saying ”How can I help?”
Argor's question hangs in the air while Cladissa takes a moment to give the pseudodragon a scratch behind one of his horns. Starfang isn't as cuddly as Cole, but he was a comforting presence.
She had almost told Argor he couldn't help; she still remembered how she would seethe whenever he would give her a long-winded lecture about the various tragedies and setbacks in her life laced with all sorts of advice and suggestions about what she should do. But his gesture with his familiar reminded Cladissa that he'd changed, that he'd been tempered with loss as well.
She looks up. "Could you maybe just listen?"
Argor nods silently, and takes one more sip of wine before setting the chalice down and folding his hands across his lap, focusing intently on Cladissa’s words. Adrenia reaches out with a soft hand and took Cladissa’s to let her know she was there for her as well.
Cladissa starts and stops a few times, struggling to parse her thoughts and feelings into some sort of coherency. She reaches for her glass a few times, but sets it down deliberately to avoid the temptation of drunkenness to loosen her tongue.
After several attempts that stall right after a, "Well," or "You see," she rubs her face with both hands and groans. "I don't know how to begin," she says helplessly.
Just putting together a complete sentence gives her some momentum. "I wasn't even looking. I'd always thought of it as though the Revolution itself had killed him, you know? So it was a blind spot for me. Even when we saved Geppa from that Final Blade, I didn't make the connection."
Her eyes grow distant. "What I was looking for, as sort of a side project, was the Final Blade that had killed him. Seeing those shades burst forth from the guillotine helped me realize that my father's soul is in torment." She shudders, and gives Adrenia's hand a tight squeeze. "It might be a distraction from my ultimate goal, but I can't *not* look for him? Right?"
Not waiting for a response, Cladissa forges ahead. "Anyway, I was researching the Revolution's actions in Champs du Lange, where we had lived before, well, before they got Dad and Mom and me had to flee. I still haven't found the Final Blade, but I found the name of the chief prosecutor of that district, and the Documents of Condemnation for one Atticus Velorryan."
She grows quiet and her face darkens. The violet glow of her eyes fades to a darker purple. "I, um, don't know what to do. I mean, I can't shake the thought that if he hadn't-- if my Dad hadn't been-- Then everything would have been different. I never would have had to leave Galt. I'd never had met Auronee, and she wouldn't have... wouldn't have turned me into..." She looks down at her hands in her lap, shaking her head. "I wouldn't be the wreck I am now."
She looks up suddenly with a flash of violet energy to forestall any comments. "Don't. I know plenty about playing the 'what if?' game. The serum, the Pathfinders, heck, even Cole and my bargain maybe wouldn't have happened."
Cladissa slumps in her chair and claims her glass and drains it. She gestures wildly with the empty goblet. "So what do I do? I was actually thinking of forgiving him, and then I had an awful thought: I could forgive him, and then show to the nation that it's possible! But then that's not real forgiveness, is it? If I use it for political gain? Even if it works to heal the country, it's tainted and therefore not earnest!" She sets the glass down and runs her hands through her hair in exasperation. She grabs fistfulls and rocks her head back and forth, squeezing her eyes shut.
She stops swaying, taking a deep breath. She looks up at Argor again with sorrowful eyes. "And then there's the fact that he killed my dad. I-- I don't know what I'll really do when I confront him."
Argor listens quietly, without trying to interject his own multitudinous stratagems he had already concocted. When she concludes, he lets silence hang for a moment before simply replying ”You will do what is right, in your own mind and in your heart. And in turn, it will be what is right for the people of Galt.”
Cladissa smiles weakly, but her spirit is buoyed regardless. "No pressure, huh?"
Argor smirks and takes up his chalice once again. "If anyone can handle such a monumental undertaking, it would be you," he says as he takes another sip.
"You do realize, of course, that if you ever desire it, I would be willing to provide you assistance," Argor offers. He adds "Politically, I would have to go through the official process of requesting intervention from Absalom on behalf of the people of Galt, and begin attempting to develop ties and allies in the Grand Council. Privately," he smiles "nothing stops me from my own personal undertakings. So if you ever need my aid, all you need to do is ask. Be it direct arcane application, or even the enchantment of a magical artifact or a golem, I am willing to help."
Cladissa closes her eyes and imagines having Argor with her in the upcoming trials. His magical acumen; the forces he is able to call to bear with a word and gesture; his singular ability to impose his will upon events. It was truly tempting. If her goal was to bring the nation to heel through strength and force, she would be asking him to accompany her this very night.
But that wasn't her way.
She still had hopes to persuade her country that it was time to end the cycles of bloodshed and revolution. That peace was attainable through forgiveness and reconciliation. That the country could be healed from within, rather than peace enforced from without.
Her eyes open and she regards him sadly. "I know. I'll never forget that I'm not alone, and should I need help, you'll come. You'll give whatever I need.
"You've no idea how comforting that is, Argor. It gives me strength to continue. To follow the course I've set and to see it through."
She rises to her feet. Smoothing out her dress, she sends a mental message to her familiar. While she waits for the sylvanshee to return, she gives Argor another smile. "Thank you for the dance, Argor. Don't stop trying to find happiness, okay? I mean it. You-- you deserve it."
Argor looks to Adrenia, who gives him a pleading look. ”She deserves to understand,” she says to Argor.
Argor sighs and nods. ”Cladissa...can I show you something? Something I haven’t shown anyone except Adrenia and Starfang?” he asks as he rises.
A look of confusion crosses her face, but Cladissa nods. "Um, sure."
Cole materializes on her shoulder and meows. "Hang on a sec, kitty." She reaches up to gather the cat in her arms and sets him on the floor. "Okay. What is it?" she asks, trepidation in her voice.
”Come with me...” he says as he leads Cladissa and Adrenia into the central spire. As he enters the ground level, passing by a group of four Ulfen guards, you quickly see that the exterior’s opulence is immediately contradicted on the inside with strict functionality on the inside of this tower. A small foyer opens up to lead only to a set of spiraling stairs upwards. After a climb of several floors, he reaches to take you and Adrenia by the hand. Once done, he weaves some magic that pulls your small group into a small rift you recognize as a short range teleportation.
You reappear within a small windowless room lit by a pair of heartless torches glowing with white flames. After a moment of awkward silence, he nods his head towards one of the barren walls, and the stone wall warps to reveal an elaborate archway containing a shimmering field of swirling arcane energy that is clearly a portal.
”This is what I wanted to show you...” he says as he steps through.
Adrenia looks to you and says ”It’s totally safe, I promise. But it may help you understand...”
Her eyes narrow. "Understand what?"
”Well...why he seems to finally be over...everything...” she says as she traces her bare foot along the stones on the floor.
A strange sensation crawls over her. "I... Um, what?" She stares at Adrenia for a few more heartbeats as her own starts speeding up. She takes a deep breath and steps through the portal.
Inside, Cladissa finds herself inside a very large arcane laboratory that would make any practitioner of the arcane arts envious. There are facilities for alchemy, enchantment, golem creation, and scribe work. Every wall is lined with carefully catalogued tomes of knowledge as well as several collections of spellbooks.
There is also a small living quarters with a heavily used bed, and a desk whose surface is covered in various notes and research. But what stands out is how...established this place is. It looks to have seen the use of many, many years.
And waiting on just the other side stands Argor. ”Welcome to...well...it is essentially my home.”
A hand flies up to Cladissa's mouth unbidden. A quick calculation in her mind extrapolates all the possibilities of temporal manipulation Argor could have achieved in the year she'd left Absalom. If the Freaks had managed to spend roughly five years in a pocket dimension in the blink of an eye, Argor could conceivably have lived several lifetimes in the intervening months.
Either magic or the serum could have kept his youthful appearance consistent during the time he spent outside time.
After a few moments looking around, she faces him. "...How long? Have you kept track?"
Argor nods ”At first I didn’t think it would be important. But...my mind sometimes cannot help but run the analytics of things. I have spent about forty years in here. The first five or so were spent in what I can only describe as a state of depressed delirium. But then, I turned my focus to enhancing my arcane skills, in which time I unlocked the means to ensure my own youthful immortality. Ever since, I’ve come and gone from this domain as needed to handle things on the Material Plane as well as acquire stock for this realm.”
The heavy thud of several steps precedes the hulking form of a massive automaton of a lustrous, silvery metal that can only be mithral turns a corner and approaches. It looks down at Cladissa, studying her as if she were a threat. Argor holds up a hand, and the thing relaxes. ”I have put the time to other uses as well, as you can see.”
"Forty..." Cladissa whispers.
She nods her head, understanding. Unlocking effective immortality? Conjuring and powering perpetual demiplanes? Argor had clearly surpassed her in power and ability. There'd always been an undercurrent of rivalry between the two of them. Different disciplines, to be sure, but they were both potent arcane casters of approximate capability. She had been concerned that when they were most at odds with each other, that at some point her arcane prowess would be pitted against his. So every time he exhibited a new power, it caused an undercurrent of fear in Cladissa.
Argor's rebirth had changed him in so many ways, but she still had her memories of the old, power-hungry arcanist. And yet, looking at him sharing this sanctum with her, whatever old fears might have been dredged up by this display evaporate like the time that doesn't exist in this place. Even with the silvery golem looming over her, she felt safe.
Her mind spins. The realization about this place makes her heart ache with a yearning she didn't acknowledge she'd been carrying with her for years -- likely ever since the time she was attacked at Jabberwocky Lane. She stumbles and grabs ahold of the table to steady herself.
Her extra legs extend and keep her on her feet, but just barely. She staggers under a drunkenness that far exceeds the conservative amount of wine she'd consumed that evening. She lurches toward the bed as one hand tugs at a ring on her finger. "Do you-- Could I just, for a bit--?"
She yanks the simple band off her finger. The ring of sustenance falls to the floor with a clear ping as she collapses into the bed. A superhuman exhaustion catches up to her and she is unconscious by the time her head hits the pillow.
Argor smiles a knowing smile as Cladissa passes out from the fatigue of removing the ring. He had done the same thing many times here, and knew how calming and relieving it could be. He calmly makes his way over to her ring and collects it with a mage hand cantrip, gingerly placing it on the nightstand beside the bed.
He then sat gingerly beside her, and looked at her exhausted form drift off into a deep slumber. He sat there for a few moment before standing and softly pulling a soft sheet and heavy, comforting blanket over her and tucked it delicately about her form. He then gently brushed a stray hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear before standing and moving towards the desk. He looked to his golem and said ”Make no move that would awaken her unless it is in defense of this place.”
Adrenia gently walks her way over to Argor and places a caring hand on his shoulder. ”Are you alright?” she asks, concerned.
”I will be...” he says as he sits at his desk and takes up a quill and a piece of parchment. He moves an aged book over and opens it to a marked page before dipping the quill into an inkwell, preparing to take notes. As he moves it over the paper, a few errant drops fall to the page, and Argor notices his hand shaking.
He returns the quill to the inkwell and rubs his trembling hand with the other as he goes through some deep breathing. He then takes up the quill again and mutters quietly ”I will be...” as he begins reading and making notes.
A shadow slinks along the floor of the sanctum. It resolves itself into a sleek, black cat with intense yellow eyes. After pausing to sniff at the silver golem, it turns its head and stares at Argor. Then the cat gathers itself and springs up onto the bed. Cladissa barely stirs, but a hand reaches up and runs along the glossy fur before retreating back under the covers.
Cole turns around a couple times and nestles into a spot against the unconscious witch. He looks at Argor languidly as his tail flicks back and forth.
Argor raises an eye from his note taking to the silvanshee, but remains quiet for a few minutes more as he tries to settle his rampant mind.
”So,” he says after some time, ”Have you deemed me worthy of conversation yet, Cole?” Argor asks as he continues taking notes.
"It was never a question of worthiness," Cole says in his surprisingly rich voice. "You simply never addressed me directly before now."
He blinks once, slowly as if he too was going to sleep, but his eyes open back up again. "Is there something you wish to discuss?"
”Because I did not want to presume you wished to speak to me. Outsiders of the higher planes deserve to be spoken to when they desire it when they are here on this realm of their own choosing.”
”I am intently aware as to the loyalty a familiar has to their bonded arcanist, especially so in the case of you and Cladissa,” Argor says as he closed the book in front of him and lays the quill down beside it. ”So, when I ask you this, I hope you are aware that I do so out of true concern for her.”
He pauses a moment, his eyes turning to look at Cladissa sleeping soundly. ”How is she? Really?”
Cole turns his head to regard Cladissa's peaceful face. "Tired. Anxious. Possibly overwhelmed. But resolute. She's weathered storms that would destroy most others. I have cause to hope she'll remain steadfast."
He looks back at Argor through half-lidded eyes. He lowers his head on his paws. "I think you'll find outsiders of the higher planes more open than you think. When their counsel is earnestly sought."
”Perhaps. Though there are many who would prefer to not let mortals know where in the sky the sun rests,” Argor replies with a knowing smirk. ”But it is good to hear she is handling it as well as she is. I hope she will let me help her, though I understand her desire to see it through on her own...”
For a brief moment, Cole looks uncomfortable. "... Perhaps." His tail flicks about then settles down. "She may decide to accept your help at some point."
After roughly two days of alternating bouts of deep slumber and fitful sleep, Cladissa finally awakes with a start. She bolts up, looking around frantically at the unfamiliar surroundings and the looming golem. Cole's presence immediately settles her, and the events of the party and her visit to Argor's home catch up to her.
Seeing Argor at his desk, she immediately glances down and still sees her mother's crimson dress on, rumpled and stained with a little drool. Wonderful. He really needed to see that side of me.
A sudden bout of panic hits her as she thinks of her home and her need to be back there, but it's quickly overridden by the recollection that she was in a timeless demiplane. "So... I guess it doesn't really matter, but how long was I out?" she asks. Her stomach suddenly gives its own estimate as it growls loudly.
Argot looks over to a water clock standing beside his desk, as well as a small parchment on the table. ”By my approximation, a little over two days of the Material Plane have passed within this realm.”
He closes his tome and stands, waving his hands and working an incantation as he approaches. A bounty of delicious looking breakfast items of all varieties appears before her on a lavish bed tray.
”You must be famished. Your ring is beside you on the night stand, though perhaps you should eat something substantial first,” he says as he sits opposite the tray on the foot of the bed, taking a grape from the tray and eating it.
"Two days?" Cladissa parrots, amazed that she could have slept that long. Or that she didn't sleep longer. Her need for sleep had been substantially reduced by the same magic in the ring that sustained her without food. She'd hardly needed a couple hours each day since putting it on.
Though the food smelled wonderful and called to her, she first picks up the ring and slips it on her finger. "I don't even know why I pulled it off. I was doing fine with it--" Her musing is cut off by an even louder growl from her stomach, so she heeds it. She gulps down a couple hard-boiled eggs and some smoked fish to take the edge off, then she slow up to converse.
"I-- I'm sorry to have imposed like that. I appreciate it, I do, but I should have asked, I should have made sure I wasn't inconveniencing you... I mean, it was horribly presumptive."
Her shoulders slump and she stares at her plate. "I was just tired."
Argor places a reassuring hand on her arm, the other reaching over and stroking over Cole’s fur. ”Anytime. This is a place of respite as well as utility. And you simply need contact me to access it if you ever are in need.”
She looks up and offers a weak smile, then returns to filling her belly. While she eats, she considers Argor's offer. Of having a place of refuge and respite, outside of time, where she could retreat to any time she wished. Whenever things got difficult, and she needed time to think, she could come here and analyze the problem at leisure. She could rest, truly rest in comfort and safety.
A crawling sensation settles over her as she thinks about this place. Timeless. She doesn't have to rush back right away. She could stay for a few more days. Maybe for as long as it takes for her ring of sustenance to start working again. That would be prudent, wouldn't it? Time isn't moving on the outside, so she could certainly afford a week of rejuvenation.
Her heart breaks as she feels the seductive draw of this haven. How long could she stay here in comfort and delay the difficult tasks ahead? Weeks? Months? Years?
She sets her fork down. "Argor, I-- I won't be returning to this place. Even now I want to stay a little while longer. Just a little. But then it'll be longer. And longer after that.
"I'm not immortal. I don't have eternal youth. I'm technically twenty-eight, but I'm really thirty-three thanks to that time with you, Thrassk, and Gianluca. How many more years do I really have? How many can I afford to spend here?" She shakes her head as she looks him directly in the eye. "Thank you, but no. And I would appreciate it if you rescinded your invitation, permanently. Take away the temptation, please. For good or ill, I need to live my life in the real world."
She picks up Cole and sets him on her shoulders as she stands up. Her familiar meets Argor's eyes with a sort of apologetic look, but one that showed he's not exactly surprised with her decision.
She starts to walk past him toward the gate back to the material plane. She doesn't meet his eyes at first. "Goodbye, Argor. Give my best to Eleanir. And if you ever see Imri, tell her... well, I hope she's doing okay."
Argor’s relaxed face grows solemn at her statement. He nods and says ”If that is your wish, then so be it.”
He rides and moves along behind her to follow her out. As she steps through the portal, he stops. Alone in the timeless realm once more, he turns back and walks over to an open, nondescript area within the realm, and stands quietly for some time. Hours pass. He stands staring, unmoving save for his hands clenching into fists and then relaxing, again and again. After a long time of silent meditation, he turns and walks through the portal.
Cladissa and Argor step back through the portal seemingly immediately after having entered it. He walks along silently behind her until they reach the front of the estate. ”I hope things go well for your endeavors, Lady Inred,” he says with a practiced, political smile.
She had expected the morning sun to be shining, but when she stepped out it was still simply late evening. She marveled; the party was still likely still going on.
Cladissa doesn't consider that Argor could have spent a few more years in the demiplane before he exited immediately after her. She lets him escort her out to the foyer, deciding not to fill the silence with useless chatter. When she reaches the front, she turns back to him.
Cladissa smiles sadly in thanks, her eyes getting misty. "Thank you. You too, Lord Constantine. Rule well."
She says the words, and teleports back to Galt.
Argor stood looking himself in the mirror of the washroom as he leaned over the basin. It had been six months...on the Material Plane...of courtship, followed by two months of preparations for the ceremony. And now, here he stood, a married man, legitimately this time. With a sigh, he cracked his neck and stepped back out of the private privy and returned to the reception that was taking place within the large courtyard of the temple of Shelyn.
Invitations had been sent out to each of his former adventuring companions, as well as every peripheral contact they had made in their careers. More had been sent out to figures of authority both political and economical, and several of the regions movers and shakers were present for the grand affair. Lord Gyr was even in attendance, as it wasn't every day an open member of the Grand Council was married.
He made his way over to a table surrounded by a bevy of noble women and nimbly weaved his way through to its center. He smiled and reached a hand out to the woman in white seated there. "Wife," he said as the band began playing a slow elven ballad.
Eleanir looked up at him and smirked back as she took his hand. "Husband," she replied as she stood, the pair moving to the dance floor.
The late evening air wafted through the open window. For someone like High Accuser Edmund Torvayne, an open window was a dangerous gamble, yet he had to admit he liked to roll the dice. Besides, he was old, and had spent decades serving Galt by rooting out dissidents and those who would oppose the Gray Gardeners and the Revolutionary Council. Regardless of which Council it was that ruled for the moment.
He pours some amber liquid from a crystal decanter into a glass and swirls it. He appreciated the finer things, the irony of which was not lost on him. Torvayne had condemned both men and women for the excesses of nobility, so it could be viewed as quite scandalous that he was sipping a wildly expensive Dwarven whisky here in his sanctum outside Isarn.
He sipped, enjoying the burn as it rode down his throat while pondering the recent events within the nation. The murmurs and whispers of a new movement amongst the common folk. Far too many political prisoners have been freed from lawfully decreed executions and then spirited away somewhere. They had to be going somewhere.
He breathes in the night air, then turns from the window and makes his way to his desk where he sifts through the recent missives and papers. Nothing yet from the Council, though he expected it to come soon. The enigmatic figure behind all the rumors would make his or her move soon, and Torvayne would be called upon once more to dispense Galt's unusual brand of justice. He smiled to himself and took another sip.
There was the faintest bit of sound and the hint of movement behind him. That smile on his face grew wider as he straightens but doesn't turn around. "I should have you know," he begins, "that better assassins than you have tested their skills against me. That I'm still here should tell you something."
A soft, feminine voice whispers behind him. "Fortunate for me, then, that I am no assassin. I simply wish to have a conversation with High Accuser Torvayne."
The man turns around to see a woman standing at the window, her eyes glowing violet. Her hair is black but with a bright sheen that reflects the firelight of the room's sconces. "Well, assuming you found him, what would you say to him?"
The woman studies him warily, then her eyes dart around the room, but she makes no movement. "I would like to see if he is tired of bloodshed. If he is ready to work to truly achieve peace."
"Ah," the man says as he thinks on what his unbidden houseguest just said. He takes a sidelong glance at a mirror near his desk and considers the gray hair and deep lines on his face. He had been at this for a long time. "Then I take it I am in the presence of the mysterious Weaver?" He smiles deviously as he watches her face, which told him that he was correct. "I've heard of you, undoing the good and necessary work of the Gray Gardeners. Speaking out against the Revolutionary Council. Meeting clandestinely with the remaining senators."
The woman keeps her face steady. "Then you'll know that I'm gaining support. Soon, I'll have enough to move openly. I'm bringing change, and I'd prefer that people like you don't resist me. So I'm here, asking you. Politely."
Chuckling, the man sneers. "By invading my home? Your very presence here is a threat to me. What if I said no? Would I be just an obstacle that you would have to remove? Me, an old man past his prime?"
The woman shakes her head sadly. "No. I apologize for intruding, but a man in this country, at your station, leaving his window open? I have a feeling this was a form of invitation. So, I came, to speak with you. I'm hopeful we can find some common ground."
Scoffing, the man replies, "What do you hope to find? That I'm a tired old man regretful of the deeds of his youth?"
Weaver shrugs, the touch of a smile on one of the corners of his mouth. "Something like that would be nice." She sobers and grows serious. "I'd like to think that someone who's spent a lifetime hunting down 'enemies' of Galt who simply disagree with the wanton slaughter of anyone of noble blood might eventually see the error of his ways. That he'd see that there are better ways to peace."
He narrows his eyes. "You appear to have a distinct impression of the work I've done."
Weaver takes a step forward, not cowed by his glare. "I know a great deal about you, sir. You not only hunted nobles and dissidents. You also hunted anyone who resisted -- no matter how peacefully. Anyone you accused received the kiss of the Final Blades. Anyone, including those who took it upon themselves to defend those you accused."
The High Accuser throws his head back and laughs. "That's all I needed to hear, 'Weaver.' I know who you really are. Atticus Velorryan's whelp. The one who made a name for herself in Absalom." He sneers again at the woman's expression. "Did you think you'd surprise me? Did you think I'd become such a dottering old fool that I wouldn't recognize Velorryan's daughter?"
"Actually," Cladissa says, "I had hoped you'd remember who Atticus was. So you'd understand what it means when I say I'm here offering forgiveness. I'm not here for revenge. I'm here to bring peace to Galt. And if that means working with the very man who condemned my father to death, so be it."
The man's cruel mirth falters. He takes a step back, putting his hand on his chin as he regards her. "Incredible. I think you might actually be serious."
Cladissa's eyes bore into him, trying to convey how serious she is. The High Accuser scowls finally, shaking his head in disappointment. "Where did I go so wrong? I mean, here I am, the man who killed your father, sending him off to be beheaded. His head lopped clean off, dropping into a basket, staring lifelessly into the sky. And you want to forgive me?"
The man's tone has Cladissa on edge, but also a bit confused. "What?" she asks, trying to figure out his game.
"I mean, where's the revenge? The vengeance? The cruelty? I'm so disappointed in you, Cladissa." The older man's form suddenly begins to shift, stretching and narrowing. His stiff and blocky shape smooths and becomes lithe and curvy. His gray hair darkens and cascades down his head and over smooth shoulders. His velvet doublet shrinks and tightens around a waspish waist, becoming an enticing corset barely holding back an ample breast. Two batlike wings emerge from the graceful back and a sinuous tail ending in a spadelike point writhes around from a shapely derriere. Where once stood an old man, a feminine beauty of inhuman lust now stands. "You've wasted my gifts, discarded my lessons, and rejected my beauty? My dear, you're going to have to be punished."
Cladissa gapes as she recognizes the succubus who kidnapped her and remade her into a demonic beauty just like her. "You--!"
Her shock and fear is suddenly cut off as the succubus hits her with a potent charm. A dreamy smile grows on Cladissa's face. "Mm-- Mistress. My Mistress."
The succubus smiles with cruel satisfaction as Cladissa looks upon her with open adulation. For a moment, she simply studies her former captive and plaything while her tail sensuously draws up and down her thigh. Her hard smile fades and turns into something almost like sympathy. "My sweetness, what have you done to yourself? I was so proud of my work with you." She gives her a little gesture. "Go on, let me take a better look at you."
Cladissa lowers her eyes and shrugs out of her floor-length hooded cloak, revealing a mane of luxuriant hair and a fit, toned body. Eight slender and graceful spider legs unfold slowly from behind her, causing the succubus to raise an appraising eyebrow.
The demon takes a sultry walk around Cladissa as she inspects her. She kicks away the cloak, purring, "Yes, let's get that cloak away from you. We're friends here, right? No need to wear such magical protections from me."
"Yes, Mistress," Cladissa whispers, shuddering underneath the close appraisal.
The succubus tsks as she pinches and caresses her ass, runs a finger up and down her arm, and cups her breasts. "You've ruined my work. You were flawless. The picture of seduction. Compared to what I made you, you're plain."
"I'm sorry. I-- I didn't like it. It wasn't me."
The demon moves to stand directly in front of her, red-black eyes burning hotly. "Of course it wasn't you. The whole point was to make you like me."
Cladissa blushes and lowers her eyes, feeling horrible for betraying her Mistress.
The succubus moves even closer and lifts her chin up with a black-tipped finger. "Now, now. None of that. I think we're going to have some more fun together. I'm done with that awful Alliance, and I imagine you're done with those Freaks, am I right?"
The former Pathfinder shakes her head, looking at her Mistress with wide eyes. "Yes, I am. So you're... no longer with the Onyx Alliance?"
With a sultry laugh, the succubus steps away from Cladissa and returns to the crystal decanter. "Yes. Gra'zith and the Labyrinth were quite cross with me when he found out I let you go. But I couldn't stand to see you flayed and devoured; I mean, it was like looking into a mirror. You truly were some of my best work." She pours a second glass and brings it to her thrall. "I simply had to see what you'd do with my gift." The two clink glasses and take a drink.
"I thank you for sparing me, Mistress," Cladissa says after she knocks back her drink.
The succubus's beautiful smile sours. "A funny way of showing your gratitude. All that work, wasted!" She huffs as she twines a finger through Cladissa's luxuriant hair -- the only succubus feature she blatantly kept.
She lowers her eyes again. "I said I was sorry, Mistress."
The succubus grabs the back of Cladissa's head and pulls her in to meet her lips. The two exchange a passionate kiss that leaves Cladissa weak in the knees and flushed in every part of her body.
The demon breaks off the kiss in surprise. "Your soul-- you're still pure?!? How is that even possible?"
Cladissa looks away, still feeling flushed. "I'm... I have been saving myself."
Exasperated, the succubus walks back to fill her glass again. "Unbelievable. I give her the body of every man's dream and she doesn't use it." She straightens and turns back around. "Well, the two of us are going to have some serious fun here in Galt."
A relieved look crosses Cladissa's face as it appears they were still friends. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaims. Then she looks puzzled. "But... why are you even here? And disguised as Torvayne?"
The succubus laughs mirthfully. "Simple enough. Do you remember how we talked when you were my guest? You told me all your hopes and dreams, like someday returning to Galt and ending the Red Revolution. I'd never been, so when it made sense to leave the Alliance due to their... displeasure with me, I chose Galt.
"I did a little exploring to familiarize myself with the place -- lovely country, by the way. Sooo chaotic -- and imagine my surprise when I found out who killed your father. Well, I simply had to get to know him. And know him I did, literally, expecting that soon you'll be drawn to him like a moth to the flame. I'd been so looking forward to our reunion."
Cladissa looks enamored as she listens to the succubus' story. She furrows her brow as she thinks a bit after she finishes. "So... did you kill Torvayne, then, Mistress?"
The shapely demon's eyes twinkle with cruel delight. "No, that's the best part! I've got a present for you, my pet." She takes Cladissa by the hand and leads her deep into the estate, taking her down into a repurposed root cellar beneath the kitchens. Both women effortlessly see in the lightless chamber, where a thick wooden door is set in one wall, barred from their side. The succubus lifts the bar up and pulls the door open wide, exposing a stinking cell.
Their black-and-white vision spots a haggard prisoner in rags. It's clearly High Accuser Torvayne, but unlike the distinguished version that the succubus has been portraying, this man has wasted away. He peers blindly into the darkness, sensing their motion. He gropes towards the sound, panting and nearly crying. "My love! My all! Are you here? Where are you?" he rasps.
The succubus steps into the chamber and gives the groping man a gentle touch on one of his outstretched hands. He shudders in ecstasy and collapses on the dirt floor, writhing on ground in sexual bliss. She regards Cladissa who is stunned in the doorway at the display. ::I'm almost as proud of him as I was of you, my pet. He wants me so desperately that he willingly placed himself in this dungeon just to prove his devotion::
Cladissa doesn't say anything, mesmerized as she is by the sight of her father's murderer so debased before her.
::You weren't really serious about that whole forgiveness speech, were you? Be honest. You've thought about taking revenge on this man. You wouldn't be human if you hadn't::
Stomach twisting in knots, Cladissa nods.
She moves next to her, whispering softly in her ear. "How wonderful. Now, just between us best friends, what was it that you wished upon him? In your most secret thoughts? Come on, tell your Mistress. What sort of devious punishments did you devise? This man who killed your father? The man who forced you to flee Galt? This man who ruined your childhood happiness?"
Cladissa shrugs, looking abashed. "I... I thought about turning him into a... well, a little songbird. Keeping him in a cage, having him sing to me. Or, maybe a mouse? Or a skunk?"
The succubus sighs, stepping away and shaking her head in disappointment. "Really? Is that it? Baleful polymorph shenanigans? I thought you'd have learned a lot more from me after all this time."
Cladissa hangs her head once more, looking crestfallen that she again has failed to earn her Mistress's approval. "I'm sorry! But I have learned from you, Mistress! I promise I have!"
Paying more attention to the debased man kissing her toes, the succubus asks dismissively, "Oh, and what have you learned?"
Cladissa raises her head and glares at the demon, holding up her left hand which has a slender silver bracelet around her wrist. The piece of jewelry is adorned with the design of three flowers -- acacia, apocynum, and bilberry. The magic of the bracelet fools a spellcaster into thinking that their enchantment spell upon the wearer has succeeded.
"I learned deceit."
===============================
Cladissa appears with the rush of displaced air in the open walkway approaching the estate of Argor Blakros. A stone statue of a voluptuous woman with demonic features appears with her. While the sensuous curves of the statue are quite appealing, the look of shock and surprise on the woman's face is very out of place.
"Hello, Argor? Would you be willing to put this somewhere out of reach?" she calls out.
A pair of guards move warily towards Cladissa, and the dragons lurking among the spires begin stalking towards her from above. ”At ease, gentlemen,” a familiar voice calls out from nearby. Approaching from a pair of shocked looking gardeners is Reginald, wearing a wide brimmed hat and clothes fit for working outside. ”Miss Cladissa, your arrival is unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome. Please, this way,” he says as he removes some long gloves and motions for her towards the front door with a bow.
He leads Cladissa through the study, towards Argor’s sitting room. ”I beg your pardon, Miss Cladissa has just arrived,” he introduces her politely as he steps aside.
”Ah. Thank you, Reginald. If you’ll excuse us?” a woman’s voice calls out. Rising from her seat at one of the high backed chairs by the fireplace is Eleanir Blakros. She folds her arms across her chest and looks you over from across the room as Reginald bows and leaves, closing the door behind him.
Once alone, she adds ”So...what do I owe the honor?”
Cladissa casts a spell, and the statue animates. It follows her inside the estate, then takes a far more demure pose than such a sensuous figure has any right to do. It resolidifies back into an inert statue in Verde Heights' courtyard.
Leaving it there under the watchful eyes of the dragons and of Cole, Cladissa then follows Reginald into the study. She gives Eleanir a relieved smile and sinks into a seat. She suddenly starts trembling all over.
A shaking hand pulls her hair away from her face. "I couldn't think of anyplace safer to put her. I'm sorry that I missed your wedding, and this is a piss-poor wedding gift, but I promise I'll think of something better. Eventually."
She shuts her eyes and trembles a little bit more, but then she starts laughing. "I did it. I beat her. I won."
Eleanir arches an eyebrow. ”Uh...who? Yeah...regardless, it’s over now. He and I are married now,” she says as she takes a seat opposite Cladissa and crosses her legs as she leans back into a chair, Argor’s chair.
After some awkward silence, she asks ”So...like, who did you beat?” as she sips at some wine.
Cladissa's eyes open in mild shock. She looks at Eleanir, disbelieving, and then she nods. "Oh, that's right. You weren't at Damian and Michelia's big party. The succubus from that party, well, she and the shadow demon from their wedding kidnapped me a while back. She found me again. Remember when I looked like a demon? That was her doing."
She leans on the arm of the chair and looks back to the door. "You should ask Argor about it sometime. Where is he, by the way? I think he'd like to hear how I pulled it off."
”Oh. Well...good job, I suppose.”
Eleanir shrugs dismissively. ”Business. Meetings. Who knows. He’s away so often anymore,” she says, one of her hands falling to her lap, the other to her abdomen. ”You could tell me, and I could pass it along. No telling how long he’ll be away.”
She looks at Cladissa and arches an eyebrow ”Unless you wanna wait and tell him in person...”
Cladissa rubs her temple, her stress not really dissipating. "I really would like to, but I've got to get back. There's this man who's really sick, that I need to..." she trails off when it doesn't seem like Eleanir's all that interested.
"Are you okay? I mean, are we okay? I'm really sorry I missed the wedding, but there was this drought and famine going on in Beau de Avrail, and it turned out it there was a leukodaemon behind it..."
Eleanir sighs. ”I guess that depends. See, Argor and I have talked a good bit the past few months. And he told me a lot about his life. And how he felt about things, and people. How he was broken when the s@#$ with Imrizade went down. And how you all helped piece him back together. And through it all, there was one thing that was obvious...”
She looks Cladissa in the eyes, sternly. ”He is in love with you. Ever since you all used your Magic’s to change him. Maybe even before that. He told me about your brief...thing...and how it was ‘over.’ But I’ve seen it in his eyes. I know.”
She pauses, looking Cladissa’s face over intently. ”And you feel the same about him. I can tell. But he’s mine now.”
Cladissa's mouth works, trying to mount protests while at the same time forcing out half-hearted laughs like Eleanir was making a series of truly bad jokes.
"I-- Look, no... It's not-- I mean, um," she shakes her head vehemently. "Eleanir, I'm not in love with him. I care for him, yes. And yeah, he... confessed that he loved me, but that was a long time ago! Especially when you count the years in the pocket dimension. So, no. If I turned him away then, I'm certainly not going to chase him now."
She clenches her fists and grits her teeth. "He shouldn't... It's over. I mean, it never was! We didn't even start! So there's nothing to end! And then there's the fact that I couldn't stand him before his rebirth, so there you go!"
Feeling suddenly caged, Cladissa stands up and takes a couple steps backwards toward the door. "I only came because of the succubus... I can't bust the statue 'cause I'm afraid she'll re-form in the Abyss and come after me again. And I certainly don't want the statue to get turned back. And Galt's not a really safe place right now... so... just pass along the message? Please? Just tell Argor 'I got her' and he'll probably understand."
She grabs the handle and opens the door. "Yeah, he's yours. You don't... you know... have to worry.
"Um, bye."
Eleanir’s mood suddenly shifts. She smiles broadly and says ”a Well good! So long as we understand one another, then there’s no need for you to rush off! Have a seat! Reggie!” she calls out. Reginald returns a moment later. ”Bring up a bottle from the Teldas shipment. I believe Cladissa likes reds?”
He nods and departs. ”So...you beat a succubus, huh? That sounds neat! Tell me about it!” Eleanir asks as she settles back into her chair. A moment later, Reginald makes his way back with a small bucket filled with ice and a beautifully decorated bottle resting within it, as well as two wine glasses.
”Ah! You are going to love this! Molthuni wine from one of the vineyards owned by House Teldas.”
Cladissa seriously considered leaving anyway. She did want to get back and check on the real Torvayne, though she had hit him with a heal spell and turned him over to the care of his houseservants.
The sudden shift in Eleanir's demeanor was also rather jarring, and had Cladissa in a more sour mood than she'd expected. She was still jittery from the unexpected encounter with the succubus, and Eleanir's accusation hadn't settled her nerves.
Still, she's Argor's wife and a Blakros. I should make nice. She puts on a smile and returns to her seat. She accepts a glass and takes a sip after watching Eleanir take one of her own.
She didn't feel like going into the full account without Argor present, so she stuck to the basics. "The succubus had laid a trap for me, taking the guise of someone she knew I'd eventually have to confront. But I'd been charmed by her before, so I always take multiple steps to guard myself against such spells. Especially now, when I do so much work alone. A spell turning me into the friend of my enemy would be disastrous. So I have bolstered my resistances.
"I let her think she had the upper hand. I was surprised, but I'd thought about what I'd do if I ever encountered her again. I trusted that she'd gloat -- and she did. I played along and learned what I needed from her. Then I turned her to stone before she could teleport away."
She takes another sip and then sets down the still-full glass. "So, how's married life? Did Argor take you anywhere special?"
”I’ve heard some people talk about those kinds of devils. Demons? Whatever. Anyway, they are the ones that, like, seduce people, right? So...what’d you have to do to convince her you were on her side?” she asks with a playful look on her face. Her tone gives the feeling that she is asking less to embarrass Cladissa, and more akin to how young girls might talk at a sleep over.
When Cladissa asks about their honeymoon, she leans back and looks wistfully out the window. ”Oh...we spent a week in a palace in Osirion, then sailed across the sea to Katheer and spent another week enjoying the sights and tastes of the Qadiran bazaar. Then he magicked us to New Stetven where we were the guests of King Surtova. Then we came home.”
Cladissa shifts in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Yeah, they seduce people, but not just for sex. They want to ruin people, destroy lives. The seduction is just a tool to them. I'd been in her thrall before, so I just... acted like nothing had changed." She waves a hand dismissively, hoping to move on from that subject.
She nods and politely smiles as Eleanir describes their honeymoon. "That sounds like fun. One of these days, I hope I'll have stabilized things in Galt enough for you two to visit. It's not safe now, and I'm playing a delicate game there. Having a massively powerful wizard show up to sightsee might have unforeseen consequences."
After a bit more of small talk, laced with a significant amount of awkward tension, Eleanir yawns and says ”I think I’m am going to go and lie down. Things have been so busy around here, getting settled into the estate and all. I will make certain to let Argor know of your win!”
She stands and makes her way out of the room and heads upstairs.
Reginald steps in and asks ”Might I be of any further assistance, My Lady?”