"We walk out of here without more of an idea of the powers here and we could quickly end up in trouble. We can use Sable's pet if that's what people think best."
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Caterine sighs and nods "Aye, seems the only likely way we're going to get information without looking like complete idiots... but even then, he's sure to know that we're not quite exactly what we're pretending to be." pursing lips and musing "Maybe we could snag one of the slaves off the street and beat a few things out of it."
Caterine smirks slightly, but the only response she gives is that she does not limp.
Caterine languidly coils her whip, turning away from Kabal and nodding to the Lady's words. "We will find a means."
As Kabal groans on the floor with hands covering that which is most treasured, Caterine sets her whip to dance and play about his head. The cracker snaking in near to his head but never directly touching. She simply asks "Is that enough... or would you like to play some more?"
Caterine inwardly blanches, knowing that what she was about to do was unavoidable... but she was not looking forward to it. Spinning on a dime, the cracker of her whip is sent to fly to break across Kabal's ebon face and eyes. As his hands to upward to guard his face... so too does the point of Caterine's boot, driven upwards and towards that most tender and painful that dangles between the legs. She twists her toe at the last second so that much of the power is spent upon thigh and not groin... but Kabal would still sense it as an explosion of acute pain.
As the warriors charge towards Kabal, Katerin reacts to impose herself between them and him. Her whip falls uncoiled beside her and she shows every intent that harm would come to any mere warrior who looks to strike out. It was one thing for the Lady of Blades to discipline him... but Katerin would be damned if any of the rank and file would seek to gain ascendancy over them.
Caterine doesn't speak, looking to the Lady of Blades with neutral expression... and gives no indication that she would take umbrage if discipline was enacted.
Katerin merely inclines her head in a nod of affirmation.
Turning slightly to take in all those who walk with her Katerin replies "We are a scalpel... precise, sharp and best wielded with skill."
Caterine does not flinch away from the strike, seeing a chance to teach a more telling lesson about their resolve. She lets the staff break across her cheek, flattening her now ebon skin against teeth and no doubt causing freshly spilt blood to seep and drip unto the stone. Throughout she keeps her face neutral and dispassionate, her eyes only leaving the Lady's for a few moments with the force of her strike. Spitting blood to the side, Caterine cocks her head slightly askance and raises a single challenging and querying eyebrow.
Without bowing and without any sign of deference Katerin brusquely replies "We are to be guards. Gadak said you would know where to use us."
Caterine's voice is harder as she replies "Fifty... for the first to 'accidentally' kill one."
Caterine doesn't respond to Gadak, instead moving over to where he indicated - coiled whip held in one hand.
"Guards of course... our blades are not for show"
Caterine shrugs at Bree's implicit question, but keeps a hand readily near her whip handle just in case.
Unwilling to let Sable falter so early, Sebastian smoothly steps in to override his faltering attempts with his own honeyed words "What he means to say is use this as a test... if we handle the beast well, then you know you have chosen well... if not, then you have cheaply discovered that we should instead be destroyed" Diplomacy:
Katerin grimaces and flatly states "Charming" at the sight of the perverted monstrosities of flesh.
Caterine waits to see what Sable has planned for the trog.
Now that they were out of direct earshot - Katerin was happy to defer to Winter.
Katerin smirks before replying to Bree "Wishes and horses", but shows deference to the Slavemistress - while also giving Gadak a neutral expression with a hint of predation.
Thinking it easier to give a name easily remembered she replied "Katerin"
Caterine smirks as she turns her head to Undamesta "That one... is housetrained." "If we were in your employ, and were ordered, then yes... I would have no qualms in slaying him... but" pausing momentarily "Are we in your employ?... and are you asking?"
Caterine's half-spoken yes catches in her throat as Winter speaks. She turns with impassive face towards him, waiting for Undamesta's next issued question...
Caterine had hoped that actions would dissuade the Slavemother from that particular line of inquiry... so she risks a subtle approach, and hopes it works "We cannot say.. for the house is no longer, and to speak of it would be blasphemy against Abraxas' will."
Before Kabal has chance to finish his words, Caterine lets her feet fall into an open stance and her whip flashes forwards before unwinding sinuously about Kabal's ankles. A violent jerk sends him to the ground before Cat spins as she draws and the whip spins 360 to come at the prone warrior from the other direction. The cracker whistles through the air to explode upon his cheek, drawing a line of blood that seeps as Cat raises one eyebrow... Non-lethal from the whip: ...and without taking eyes from Kabal she responds to Undamesta "My apologies Reverend Slavemother... this one is not yet housebroken." waiting until she was sure that Kabal would just lie subservient upon the ground before turning eyes upward and giving a bow of deference as she re-coils her whip. "Forgive his impudence, he bulges where bulges are pleasing, but his mind cannot yet control his tongue. Gadak speaks the truth... we seek employ, and submit to your judgement."
To Kabal, Caterine just winks and cryptically commits "We'll see if I can manage" Once brought to the chamber of interrogation, Caterine steels her will - and allows others to enter before she does, with coiled whip in hand.
"It would serve us well to have a sponsor of some kind here... if we are garbed with the color of a house it would likely offer some protection against opportunistic attention." Turning to Kabal with a smirk "We need to make an impression here... Would you be willing to play along with a ruse? When the slavemother comes... speak out of turn, and I will put you in your place." pausing for a moment before chuckling "Surely it wouldn't be the first time you've let a lady whip you?"
Caterine continues to watch with silent and narrowed eye visage.
Caterine's eyes narrow at this talkative guard... concerned that there is some kind of deception or gambit in play...
Caterine sits back down, having already been usurped by the males in the group to act now would seem petulant and without basis. Instead she hopes that the heirachy within the city did not follow typical drow lines - and an environment where a male would choose to speak for a female would not be seen out of sorts.
Caterine remains silent, but inwardly wonders exactly how they're meant to make inroads into the city without a patron house...
Caterine stands and casually brings a whip from her belt to hold before her. Letting it fall open, she cocks her head to one side and smiles... as though inviting Gadak to make any further action that would give her cause to whip him...
Caterine speaks with an edge of steel to her words "I am sure that Matron Vonnarc would wish to hear the words herself first... rather than they be wasted now."
Caterine keeps her peace and tongue, watching their guide for cues on behaviour around the fungus.
Caterine merely mouths quietly "You may ask, yes." and deigns not to embellish that which Sebastian has already stated.
Caterine affixes the man with a cold and demeaning stare "You would do well to not see things that are not there Gadak... though yes, we are bound for Zirnakaynin"
Though she knows her companions are likely holding their blows, or being cautious... Caterine does not hold back. Her whip is let fly with abandon, cutting into elf flesh and drawing blood. She half fakes, and half does not need to make up the outpouring of emotion that takes place. Channelling her feelings into her arm and seeing them writ large in sanguine letters, she attempts to impose a presence upon the drow...
As they breach the portal Caterine runs a few steps towards the drow setting her whip dancing to one side with a crack. Over her shoulder she screams at her companions "Harcolj te értéktelen disznók! Ha nem teszik véreznek érezni fogja az ízét én ostor." the end of her sentence punctuated by sending the cracker of her whip seeking the eyes of one of the following elves...
Undercommon: "Fight you worthless pigs! If you do not make them bleed you will feel the taste of my whip.
Easing into her new perverse and foul home, Caterine rises - staring at darkened hands and tracing the edge of an ear that is now sharper than it was before. Eyes are momentarily hazy in reflection as she finds herself now sheathed in the half of her heritage that first rejected her and was then denied by herself in turn. Sighing she hears the words and forces emotion to submerge... it would not serve her well where they were going. The sound of the voice of the surface dwellers now seemed somewhat alien to he and she hardened the edge of her words and venemously barked "Használja nem a nyelv a vásár is ... meg kell megszólalnia a szerepet." before a threatening look at the necromancer who molested her spirit and she follows Once-Was-Winter... adding as an afterthought "And if you don't know what I just said... best keep your voice low" Undercommon: "Use not the tongue of the fair ones... we should sound the part."
Caterine lies in state with peaceful anticipation.
With a sigh Caterine finds herself a facsimile for her current form and stands beside it... muttering to herself "Aki harcol szörnyek meg kell nézni, hogy az, hogy ő maga nem lesz a szörnyeteg. És amikor tekintete hosszú egy szakadék a szakadék is bámul beléd." Undercommon: "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."
Caterine follows with jaw set grimly... not looking forward to the transition, but perhaps looking forward a little too much to the 'mock' battle.
Caterine smiles, though her eyes stay cold. Aye, a 'staged' fight... best to make it somewhat realistic though... I'll enjoy slapping these fops about a bit.
Sebastian's comment earns a withering glance from Cat before she submerges that feeling and taunts back "Careful now... or I might just feel a need to whip you senseless when we meet the black bastards to try and fit in."
Caterine acquiesces... though not without threatened gaze.
Caterine takes another step back from the others and shakes her head "You're all fecking mad... Trusting this halfwit with your lives and promising to walk blindly into a place where not much other than death awaits us at the behest of elves who don't even dare risk their own damn skin."
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