[Crossed Spears of Eschaton] Chapter 1: The Sword

WlfSamurai

WlfSamurai

Maelstrom Engineer
The Imperial Manse's Occult library crackles with green and orange lightning as five Infernals and one Queen step through the hell-portal. Dust stirs as the portal implodes into green Essence behind them. Darkness falls over the room.


"Untouched," mutters the Queen of Hell to herself as she looks over her occult library. Compared to Malfeas where she and her escort had just stepped through the portal from, the darkened dusty room seems unnerving in its stillness. It's orderly, quiet, and static. Not like home where changes were constant and dangerous.


She looks deep into the faces of each of the five Green Sun Prices her Husband had chosen to escort her back into power. Each so unique. Each so powerful. Each perfect.


The Queen snaps her fingers igniting a ball of green flame in her hand. A sickly jade light dances among the hundreds of books and scrolls lining the walls. She bends down to a black tome lying on the floor and picks it up.


"The Boken-Winged Crane," she reads out loud with a disgusted smile. "Certainly helped me find all the power in Creation and beyond." Suddenly, the book is engulfed in green flame. The Queen discards it to the floor. "No need for that anymore," She snickers.


"Come," commands the Queen. "We've much to do. We must make haste." Her blood-red gown swirls with a swish as she turns and strides out of the library.
 
Donovan Whoreson strode through proudly, confidence in his every step. He was a prince of Hell in every sense of the word and he knew it. His steel grey eyes, solid in color, observed the library with a bit of fascination and curiosity alike. A hand brushed away black bangs, falling aside like obsidian and ebony.


His attire looked like a cross between a pirate captain's attire and a merchant prince's garb, fit for the wealthy and powerful. They were of black and deep green, like Ligier's light, and trimmed with vitriolic-touched brass of the finest thread. "As you wish your majesty." Wisps of smoke trailed from his lips as he spoke.
 
One would not expect a man so large to be able to move so quietly, but Yatagir is not a normal man. Standing nearly seven feet tall, the Scourge is a wall of muscle bound up in pitch-black skin and stuffed into a soldier's uniform modeled in the old Shogunate style. Blood red tattoos run across his face, then form lines along his bald head and down his neck; one could assume they continue down the rest of his body, but the black buff jacket reinforced internally with green jade plates that look more grown than forged covers most of his body. Green jade smashfists are clearly visible on his hands, the jade shaped in vines that have grown together to form the weapon.


He nods to the Queen, glancing around the library with a smirk. He had been here once before, in another life. He was curious to see what had changed...
 
The strawberry blonde Sy'Veria sweeps back strands of her long hair from her face with a flick of her slender wrist as she follows through. This would be the first time that curvaceous former slave-dancer had been in most powerful place in all of Creation, and while a slender eyebrow raises as she looks at the smoldering remains of the peculiar book she makes no other appearance to be curious at all. She was right, there was things to do and little time to waste. Her red skirt flows behind her as she walks with an alluring grace after their most Imperial charge, and her blue eyes scan each of her allies in turn.
 
The white haired Jeanara stands at a height that matches Yatagir, but where he is all muscle, she is sleek and graceful. There is strength evident in her frame, but her every motion is like quicksilver, and her great height seems almost incidental to her being; were she to be viewed from a distance, without anything to compare her to, one would not be able to guess at her size. A sword nearly as long as her height lies strapped across her back. Mist leaks from the end of its scabbard, filling the air with a haze around her. Her body is fitted to an intricate grey armor that glints with a million dull lights. Under the artificial lighting of the manse, it glows cherry red, altering the reflected light with some strange property.


Jeanara keeps in pace with the one she has been chosen to guard, showing only the most minute amount of deference. "I will be able to serve you visibly, as a viper amongst your dynasty. I have taken the time to learn how to fool even the greatest of scholars as to my nature, and so I will be able to act freely, even here on the isle."
 
Last of the company to exit the portal is a small woman with brown hair and grey eyes. Slight but with an air of quiet confidence, she seems at home amongst the other guards, if a bit out of place in her unadorned buff jacket. If one missed the conspicuous glint of steel at her hip, it might be easy to mistake her for a defenseless charge, though anyone who did see it would know from the ease with which it rests there that the weapon could spell their death if they were not careful.


The lilting tune she was humming as she entered cuts off as the Crane burns. Flitting Wren stops for a beat to shake her head in pity at the sight of the burning book. Truly such a pity to lose a grotesque work of art like that. Oh well, she shrugs and moves on. It wasn't like there weren't more echoes scattered through time. And even if they weren't, their mistress was about to begin a much grander work for them all.


If one had any doubt that Wren belonged with the troupe of Green Sun Princes, the wicked smile that lit up her face at that last thought would drive it away.
 
"Good," says the Queen over her shoulder to Jeanara, not missing a stride. "But, don't grow over-confident. My children are more resourceful then they look."


The escort keeps pace with the former Empress as she leads them through several passages to a pyramid-shaped room stretching fifty-feet to its apex. Lining the walls and ceilings, mosaics depict men and women wreathed in golden light slaying monsters, providing for people, ruling kingdoms, and building wonders. The largest depicts a four-armed man wearing bronze armor carrying a lance, a shining shield, a laurel branch, and a horn. Rays of yellow line the background behind him. Each Infernal recognizes the Unconquered Sun.


In the center of the chamber stands a three-foot tall obelisk. The Queen strides up to and places her hand on it's side. A moment later, Essence swirls from the obelisk's tip filling the room with a massive shimmering map of Creation. With close of her fingers, the Queen zooms the view of the map in on the the Imperial City.


"We have to be discreet at first," she points out. "Until we know the location of all our enemies, we can't take chances. My plan is to announce my homecoming in a grand style using the Engines of Creation. This should immediately stop the Civil War and polarize my supporters and enemies. We'll need to quickly shutdown opposition within the Imperial City and the rest of the Realm. Once secure, we can move to leverage the Realm's support in the Threshold. To accomplish all this, I have you five." She looks at each of Green Sun Princes. "Tell me how best to leverage your abilities during our Reclamation and I'll start assigning tasks. And, by all means, please speak candidly. We have no time to waste."
 
Jeanara looks off in the distance for a few moments as she considers her answer. "I am the foremost warlord of the Reclamation, as well as one of our greatest speakers. I will be of great value in any military endeavor, or any venue that requires a silver tongue. I can convert anyone to our cause, with or without their knowing how much power I am applying to such effect. Minds crumple before my will. There are few that can withstand me when I desire something from them; whether it be an action, a thought, or an object. When that fails, I am an able combatant, and well versed in the art of war. Put me in charge of an army and I will crush whomever you wish."
 
Yatagir's voice echoes in the minds of those gathered, a dark bass that fits the man who uses it. As you know, my Queen, my skills lie more in personal defense, along with knowledge of the city itself and my...familiarity with the Silent Legion. I could lead them properly with your authority, and those who call on their services would never know that we are the source of their new orders.
 
The Queen of Hell nods, her deep brown eyes focusing on Yatagir and Jeanara. She turns to the others with an expectant look.
 
"My Queen.." His voice sinister, soothing, and firm spoke to her. "I am a crafter of many things, whether they be mundane, Artifact, or even the Wylds or Malfeas itself. I understand the lower classes, those usually ignored but capable of much intrigue and blackmail. I have a very firm understanding of Nexus and its workings. In addition I am a capable summoner and leader of demons. And due to my heritage as a thrice-born and blessed Prince of Hell I am also capable of guiding flesh like the Neomah." His heritage evident in how handsome he looked, seemingly promising someone their damnation with his eyes.
 
"Excellent," replies the Queen. "That will be most useful." She turns to Sy'Veria and Flitting Wren. "And what of you two?"
 
Flitting Wren bows, "Empress, I have spent the last several years hunting down and eliminating individuals that cause problems. I can rally local support with a well crafted lie and see through such deceptions with ease. More than that, though," her smile widens and a laugh threatens to bubble up through her words, "much of the Threshold is mine already, and thus yours. The people lavish authority on those who give them cause to celebrate the death of others. And until we are ready to reveal ourselves, my eyes and ears in the Eye can keep us aware of our enemies the moment they move against us."
 
"Most excellent," says the Queen with a smile. "My husband has done his work admirably." She looks to Sy'Veria. "And what of you, young lady?"
 
Sy'Veria's response, slower than the others, is one that one might expect from the dancer. Sy'Veria bows to her for a moment and brings a finger to her lips as if in thought, the way she held herself would tell of her seductive and attractive nature, she knew some men loved the way a finger would lay on a lip as if in wait, and the squeeze of her arms against her breast would draw eyes. While not meant to be used on her Empress, nor her fellows she felt the need to lightly show her natural ability. "I attract the hearts, milady. I work their desires, I make hot desires and I forge them into what I need and want. For you I will do this, House Cynis I have heard is vulnerable to the bat of my eye and pout of my lips." She smiles softly and lowers her hands to fold before her demurely. "Through the powers granted me I can alter the loyalties of a population that is hungry. And I ferret out the secrets that lies in the intemperate souls of the powerful. Your lands, as I have heard it, are ripe for such effects, your disappearance has shown the weakness in your people and we will have to fix them to better serve you."
 
The Queen of Hell nods with a devilish smile. "Perfect," she says after a moment. "Perfect. This may take less time than I thought..." She thinks for a moment, looking at the faces of her hellish honor guard.


"I've changed my mind," she says breaking the silence. "I'll wait to reveal myself to the Realm. Instead, I'll act through all of you and trim some of the fat. We can remove several obstacles to my return and my domination of the Realm before the roaches have time to scatter."


"We'll start with the two most obvious obstacles." The green flame in her hand grows and flickers until a full image of a woman's face shimmers through the sickly Essence. Her face is hard, if beautiful, and she wears her White Jade tiara with a arrogant pride.


"My daughter, Mnemon, has grown more powerful and influential than I had...anticipated," the Queen says, her face frowns in disgust. "She needs to be removed from my path. This will, in turn, shut-down half of the laughable civil war."


The green flames in the Queen's hand shift and show a different woman, one who seems unwavering and battle-hardened. She wears Green Jade armor decorated with black roses. While her face holds more warmth than Mnemon's, this woman's eyes seem wise and experienced. Crimson hair falls across her face and back in long wavy curls.


"Tepet Ejava, the Rose Black," the ex-Empress says simply. "Her wide support and loyal Vermillion Legion make her dangerous. In addition, she thinks for herself and takes nothing at face value. She current leads the opposite side of this civil war.


"Both of these women need to be brought to me alive at all costs. I can convince them to join our cause, combining their resources to ours." The Queen emphasizes her point by squashing the green flame with her fist blanketing the chamber in darkness and revealing her glowing green eyes.


She lights a second flame illuminating the room once again. "I leave the choice to you whom you target first," she adds. "We can easily find their locations using this Manse's power. But they both must be brought to heal. If they cannot, they'll need to die." She lets her words sink in and waits for the Infernals.
 
"The Rose Black would be the easier target, no doubt. She is far less experienced or entrenched than Mnemon is, and accessing her would be simple. On the other hand, Mnemon is widely know for her demon summoning. That gives us easy access to information about her, or perhaps more if we approach the problem properly. That, however, is not my area of expertise, so I defer that problem to my comrades." Jeanara sweeps her cape out, fluttering it behind her as she speaks.


"I would be best used targeting the Rose Black. It would not be difficult for me to assume the mien of a disaffected Dragonblooded officer, and I can easily convince her of my hatred of Mnemon. After all, it is a true hatred, and such grants me considerable power. It should not be overly hard to convince her back to the Imperial Manse from this position."


A contemplative expression comes onto Jeanara's face. "In fact, if she is loyal, I may even be able to convince her to come simply based on word from you. I don't pretend to know the intricacies of Dynast politics, but would you be able to give a verifiable order to the Roseblack? I could easily deliver it and curry her back here for our pleasure."
 
At the mention of Mnemon, a look of pure hatred flickers across Yatagir's face. His eyes take in every detail of the woman's face - one he has never seen in person, but now burned into his mind. The inkling of something placed within his mind by the Demon City flared bright, and all became clear.


I would be honored, my Queen, to bring your daughter back to your loving embrace. If she declines the offer...well, the Brass Dancer has bade me to do what must be done.
 
Taking a moment to bask in her Empress' praise, Wren quickly turns her attention to the work at hand. While mildly put out that the Deliberative isn't one of their current targets, these two were only the "most obvious" obstacles. There was still every chance she would be able to burn down those twin houses of lies and corruption yet. But there would be time to indulge those happy plans later. For now . . .


"Ejava should be our first target. She seems younger, more hot-headed, and best of all, more likely to have loved ones we can use against her. Mnemon . . ." A mix of admiration and frustration flash across Wren's face, "I would be shocked if Mnemon cared for a soul other than herself int he least. It would be prudent, then, to bring the Rose Black under our control then use her to drive Mnemon into our arms."
 
"I would have to agree. Besides the loyalties of Ejava might be more easily swayed than the powerful and arrogant seeming Memnon." She brings her look to fall upon Yatagir and frowns slightly, making a note of the emotions she can read there, but not acting upon it. "Mayhaps we can split the load? Two of us to speak with Ejava and three of us to tend to Memnon. Though I should add that any splitting of our capabilities will lead to vulnerability against the unknown. And where the passions of the Dragon-children lie unknowns tend to be as well."
 
After a long moment, the Queen asks, "Does the split in thinking mean you wish to split your effort? Or will you focus your efforts on one of these two women at a time?" The smile that curves across her face is evil.


EDIT: *sings* Hell yeah, TYPOS! Nah, nah, nah, nah...
 
"We may be divided of opinion, but our desires are not a concern, only the results are. I have a question for my peers who wish to seek Mnemon. As you well know, Mnemon is an extremely experienced sorceress and demon summoner. She is one of the most learned individuals in the Realm, and I would stake a life's savings on her being paranoid as well. Do you, any of you, think you have the capabilities to fool her, to get close to her without revealing even a hint of your nature? This isn't an idle question; I know that I have specifically developed talents that would aid me in doing so, but even with such power I would not undertake such a task lightly." Jeanara interjects, calmly exposing what she views as the largest complication that could occur.
 
Flitting Wren nods in agreement, tilting her head slightly to one side, "Even with all our abilities, It would seem reckless to strike at one so experienced and entrenched as Mnemon while she is in the seat of her power unless we were prepared to commit all of our energies to her. I would much prefer to capture and control her rival and use that threat that she knows alongside our machinations to draw her into a helpless position." She shrugs theatrically, "But then, I am used to taking control from my enemies before they are even aware they are threatened and revealing my hand only when the odds are already stacked in my favour. I am sure other methods can be effective as well."

​
 
He paused for a moment and looked about. "I think Ejava should be out first target. Mnemon is indeed your daughter in many ways if the reports are to be true. She was raised and flourished in an environment of double-speak, power plays, and back-stabbing. So it is very likely that she is expecting something like this to occur, a coup, a return of the Scarlet Empress herself." He tapped his chin while in thought before speaking again. "Ejava on the other hand is more likely to trust, and much of her strength is in her army. We could very well insinuate ourselves within her forces and slowly change their ways of thinking and ultimately taking much of her power base from beneath her."
 
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