Expansion Siege of Oveda | Expansion into Hulva

[Euthanor Nachimar]

The Plague Doctor was no fool. Unlike most pseudopatriotic fanatics of Oveda, throwing their lives away for the mere benefit of few coins to their merciless and oftentimes self-destructive overlords, Euthanor was a calculative and studied lieutenant, knowing full well his mission and his boundaries. This particular occasion was something that far exceeded both. His flesh was now branded by the foul being's claws, while his position was compromised on all possible levels. It was indeed foolish of him to pursue an engagement with such a foe. Alas, what was done was done. He now had to withdraw and quickly purify his wounds, before any possible witchcraft or poison of the monster's strike took effect.

He was not equipped nor prepared to face off an enemy such as the Abhartach breed. His elixirs were out, and so was the equipment not truly attuned to slaying such vile creatures. To his investigation, he had gathered the answers he required. Now, he had little reason to stand and face such monsters, only to be slain and his information most valuable for the Cult lost to the enemy.

"Cease this madness." he demanded. His urging, however, fell on deaf ears, as the Vampire King soon threw himself again against the already marked Plague Doctor. The latter chose to adopt a defensive stance, swinging the flame-carrying chain around him as his silver sword clashed with it, causing one of the flaming orbs to blast into an explosion before him that would produce a static smoke superior in volume than a normal ember would. A shroud of ash and the threat of flame and silver would, supposedly, be enough for the Plague Doctor to mask his withdraw, or at least grant him enough time to gain some foothold on better position.
If for some reason the Vampire managed to pierce through the shroud, he had his silver blade ready to thrust against it and mark it back in a retaliatory strike, while he retreated still.
There was no recklessness in his methods, nor was there bravery in his attacks. Only well-calculated patterns of methodically memorized and analyzed protocols. Such was the way of the Iron Cult. And Euthanor, was more than just a mere messenger of Fuernburg. That, if nothing else, Euthanor wanted not to be too apparent as he had all but reason to want the enemy not to know his full strength....

For now.



@Marcus Aumont

 

[Adosinda Castellanna]

The Black Wolf was advancing across the ruins of the city. All over the streets, the Espadan troops laid waste, while the few defenders remaining tried to surrender. Alas, few of them were shown such mercy. At the centre of Oveda, Adosinda pulled the reins of her horse to bring it to a halt. Her sword, still quivering bloody by the last hack against the running foes, now extended to the side, as her eyes gazed around her. A moment of silence followed, as her senses collapsed.

The city she once had sworn to bring freedom to lied ruined. The people she once vowed to see free were put to the sword. Was this truly her doing? The strange black rage that had possessed her and her troops as soon as they broke into the city had started fading, as the bloodletting had collected the toll for the war gods. Now, she was left feeling the cold steel of her armour as if she wore no leather or fabric inbetween. No... This wasn't natural.

Adosinda jumped off her horse and turned to the nearby broken door, where a girl lied bloodied, half dead as a part of the roof had collapsed on her during the final bombardment. Adosinda was unable to speak, as her body instinctively moved closer, kneeling before the girl to reach for her forehead. The girl twitched. With the little energy she still held, she showed the fear of the Black Wolf's steel, enough for Adosinda to pull her hand back. Her eyes turned teary. She dropped her sword and quickly unbuckled the gauntlet, casting it aside as she showed her now naked palm to the girl.

"Its fine! Its fine! Look! I won't hurt you!" She tried to calm the dying girl.

The girl's face slowly relaxed, as Adosinda's palm finally reached her cheek. But that was only for her to discover the dying breath of the girl was already exhaled. Only in death, was she seen as human again...

"What have I done...?" she muttered.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden noise of sword clash and blast of flame from across the street, once again connecting her to the battle still ongoing. She stood up, heading towards the sound.
Upon turning the corner, she halted her pacing as she witnessed the King of Espada battling against what looked like the figure of a Plague Doctor. Her sword held at hand, she was yet to approach, not wanting to be caught inbetween such a duel...

She waited. Observed. And what she witnessed, caused her eyes to widen...

 

[Marcus Aumont]

The Plague Doctor stumbled back from Marcus's savage claw strike, but with a swift, practiced motion, he unleashed a shroud of ash, silver, and fire. The mixture erupted in a blinding flash, catching Marcus off guard. The searing heat and silver particles burned into his flesh, causing him to recoil in pain.

Marcus let out a roar of agony, his skin blistering and smoldering where the silver and fire had struck. He staggered back, his vision momentarily blurred by the intense pain. The Plague Doctor took advantage of the distraction, slipping into the shadows to make his escape.

Rage welled up within Marcus, his eyes blazing with fury as he fought through the pain. "You dare harm me?" he snarled, his voice a venomous hiss. Ignoring the agony, he slashed wildly at the dissipating shroud, but the Plague Doctor was nowhere to be seen.

"You can't hide forever," Marcus growled, his rage building with every passing second. He lashed out at the shadows, his movements a blur of fury and desperation, but the Plague Doctor remained elusive.

Finally, Marcus halted, his chest heaving with exertion and pain. He knew there was one power he had yet to unleash, a power so absolute that he had avoided using it. But now, Marcus decided it was time.

Closing his eyes, he summoned the deepest reserves of his ancient power. When he opened them again, his crimson gaze burned with an unearthly light. "By my will, you shall come to me," he intoned, his voice resonating with the force of his command.

The Plague Doctor, hidden within his shroud, felt an irresistible pull. His limbs moved against his will, his body dragged toward Marcus by the sheer force of the vampire king's power. He struggled, but it was futile; the command was absolute.

As the Plague Doctor was drawn into the open, Marcus's lips curled into a triumphant, vengeful smile. "There you are," he said softly, his voice dripping with menace. "Now, let's finish this."

With the Plague Doctor unable to escape, Marcus, seething with anger and pain, prepared to play with him in this one on one skirmish of wills. Unknown to him however he had revealed too much in his pursuit of the man, revealing a key secret to an onlooker that he had not sensed in his surroundings due to his pain.

Tag: @Euthanor Nachimar @Adosinda Castellanna

 

[Euthanor Nachimar]

The very weight of the arcane energy gathered around him felt like a possession entirely. Euthanor struggled. His mind at start refused to give in, and yet, as more and more moments passed, the limbs begun yielding to the foul magics for which the Plague Doctor was not prepared for. Panic, swept in. In all his trainning and studies, he knew there was little he could do against this darkness. But his mind, nevertheless, did not falter.

As the fiend in flesh spoke, his venomous hissing rung like bells of war in Euthanor's mind. He knew, at this point, he could not match the enemy through sheer strength, and his tricks were running out. He was meant to be an observer. Not an executioner, in this particular clash, after all.

"Fiends like you belong on a cross." he declared; His voice unyielding and yet, strangely enough, constrained. There was little fear in his words, nor was there desperation, regardless his arguably inescapable situation. "You will find my blood's taste to your liking, I am sure."

Simple sentance, it might be. With it, Euthanor made sure that both the Vampire, and the distant champion wearing the colours of the enemy heard the Plague Doctor's masked affirmation of the Vampire's nature. Without knowing for certain whether his foe had made his nature known to his blind followers, or he operated under a persona, a masquarade his kin was most known for, Euthanor spoke in both a warning and a reminder.

His beaked mask nodded to the nearby chaplain, as if to acknowledge her presence... Or, mark it, in the case the Vampire was blinded enough by the fight he had not taken notice of the witness...

A final gambit, indeed. Euthanor knew, should the Vampire had not revealed his real being, would not easily risk doing so now, in such a moment of chaos. Potentially, this could be a ticket for the Plague Doctor to further his life, most likely in captivity... And doing so, perhaps, further his investigation as well...

Knowing the enemy, after all, was a major pillar of the Iron Cult's strategy prior to any conflict. And a conflict, was most certainly going to be.

 

[Marcus Aumont]

The Plague Doctor was dragged inexorably toward Marcus, his body trembling under the weight of the vampire king’s absolute command. As he came into view, Marcus’s eyes glinted with a cruel satisfaction.

“You thought you could harm me and escape?” Marcus sneered, circling the immobilized figure. His wounds still sizzled with residual pain, fueling his desire for vengeance. “Now, you will pay for your insolence.”

Marcus raised his hand, and the Plague Doctor’s body lifted off the ground, suspended by invisible threads of power. He tightened his grip, making the Plague Doctor writhe in agony. “How does it feel to be powerless?” Marcus mocked, his voice a low, menacing growl.

He released the Plague Doctor, letting him fall to the ground with a heavy thud. “Stand up,” Marcus commanded, his tone cold and unforgiving. “Let’s see if you can amuse me before I end your miserable existence.”

“Pathetic,” Marcus spat, watching as the man crawled back to his knees.

“You thought you could escape me with your tricks and sorcery?” Marcus continued, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re nothing but a coward hiding behind smoke and mirrors.”

With that Marcus would await the Plague Doctors next final attack. His ultimate goal despite wanting revenge was ultimately to capture the man and gain information regarding the organization he was apart of. His cloaks were now tethered and in soon to be in protest of his disguise. He would need to end this quick not to fully reveal his appearance.

Tag: @Euthanor Nachimar

 

[Euthanor Nachimar]

Fuernburg, few years ago...

The glass visors of the Plague Doctor reflected the long tongues of the burning woman, as her voice slowly turned to a dry growling due to the flame's effect. A large "V" was carved on her bare torso with the silver blade now sheathed on the belt of the crow-peaked masked companion of Euthanor, standing ahead of the fence. Unlike Euthanor, who had his attention trapped in the burning woman, the gaze of his companion wandered to the murder of crows who circled the graveyard.

"Why here, Ermionne? Why not in the square?" he wondered.

"The square is for those the world must see to remember the foe, Euthanor." Ermionne explained. Younger compared to him she was, yet her knowledge on the occult far exceeded his own. She hailed from a different House than he did, a sect dedicated in battling the unnatural. "This Abhartach was a child. A minion of a master, within Fuerburg. And she was willing to answer what we asked. So, to end it in her once feeding ground is a sign of respect."

"Respect?" Euthanor turned to Ermionne. His voice clearly indicating his confusion. "They are monsters!"

"That, they are. But they pride themselves too much to act accordingly. That, gives us an edge, they cannot counter: Bargain. Their time playing the masquarade made them weak. Tread lightly, when dealing with them."

"So, we withhold our principles for the sake of politics?!"

"No. We play their game. So that we can uncover every last one of them... When they are dethroned... Then, they will be the beasts they are... And we..." Ermionne turned to look at the now silent pile of ash the Abhartach had turned into. "The hunter."


How things had changed...

As the Plague Doctor's body was released, Euthanor fell on the ground, with only his gloved hands stopping his momentum from crushing his face. He was brought low. Very low. And there was little chance of recovery. But, unlike his foe, now held high, he was no monster. He would not be turned to beast.

The consequetive taunts of the Abhartach only served to further rally his thoughts. A time most needed.

"We are all cowards" he spat. His peaked face lifted only to gaze across to the street, for a short look at @Adosinda Castellanna standing in the distance. A pressure point, he thought. Just by her expression, he could figure the dark masquarade played by the Abhartach.

"Beasts fight a fight long lost." he admitted. His voice slowly returning to his usual considered tone, as he caught his breath. "I have lost" he then declared, standing on his one knee and offering his silver blade unsheathed, to the Abhartach, in a symbolic surrender.

"A worthy adversary, which I must recognize, regardless of the hate we may store for one another...."

It was Euthanor's wild gamble. His own decisions of overextending his stay and then bypassing his true duties for one such kill not evaluated brought him to a position of almost certain death. Now, all he could do is provide a shocking shift loud enough to capitalize on the Abhartach's, possible, civilized facade. Then, it was only a matter of witts and luck whether he could make it through the inevitable interrogation.

Alas, he was there to learn. Having the ability, if given, to talk directly with the Vampire would be a major asset, if he could then return to Fuernburg.... There would be few if any who could claim such extensive insight!

That, given he would not end up a feast for the corrupt....

 

[Marcus Aumont]

Vampire King Marcus tightened his grip on the Plague Doctor Euthanor, a sinister smile playing on his lips. The dark power of his absolute command held Euthanor immobilized, his struggles futile against the overwhelming force.

"You thought you could harm me and escape?" Marcus sneered, his voice a menacing growl. He circled the captive doctor, his crimson eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction. "You will pay for your insolence, but not with your life. No, I have far greater plans for you."

He released his grip slightly, allowing Euthanor to breathe but not to move. "You possess knowledge I require," Marcus continued, his tone shifting to a cold, calculated calm. "Knowledge of your nation, its defenses, and its weaknesses. You will share everything you know with me."

Marcus chuckled darkly. "You see, I have ways of extracting information that go beyond mere physical pain." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I will delve into your mind, peel back every layer of your resistance, and uncover every secret you hold dear."

He straightened, his gaze never leaving Euthanor's. "Or, you can choose to cooperate. Spare yourself the agony and the inevitable. Tell me what I need to know, and perhaps I'll show you mercy."

The chamber fell silent, the weight of Marcus's words hanging heavily in the air.

"Decide quickly," Marcus added, his voice low and threatening. "My patience is wearing thin, and your time is running out."

With that, he stepped back, allowing Euthanor a moment to process the grim reality of his situation. The Plague Doctor's fate now hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of betrayal and survival.

Tag: @Euthanor Nachimar

 

[Euthanor Nachimar]

The Abhartach was aware of the Plague Doctor's quest, or at least the vague nature of it. Euthanor could be all but assured of it, given the way the monster spoke. His would be a dark and most difficult trial, which he had to endure. To betray the Cult was the greatest blasphemy he could commit, after all. They knew where he was. And they, sooner or later, would act on the rapidly now shifting events.

"I shall honour the codes abiding one of my standing as captive, so long my captor honour their's. We are no beasts." the beaked-masked knelt Euthanor declared. The more the spell sunk in him, the more visible was the seemingly innate, or seeded tendancy of his very being to resist the arcane force upon him, allbeit he did not act on such potential. He had surrendered. Further resistance would after all negate any possible benefit captivity could yield. He was a threat no longer. Now, it was a darker game, one which would, eventually, put his very trainning, being and evolution to the very edge.

"I do not wish further contest. Allow me pace, as befitting of my rank, and I shall speak as it is suited when answering to one such as you. We are foes. But this does not mean we must be barbaric."

The dust slowly settled, as the battle had devolved into a pillage. It was, however, the Plague doctor's eyes who turned first, towards the distant Chaplain, who remained, for now, still, staring at the sight of the Plague Doctor and the Abhartach. Something rang in Euthanor. There were secrets yet to be revealed, and words yet to be spoken between the Abhartach's minions... Could it be?

Could it be that he, just like many before him, had been ruling through deceit, and not sheer fear, like in the days of antiquity? Abhartachs, especially in Sparnia, were all but accepted, less so, after the Witch Wars of Castagonna...

This, could potentially be a point of leverage, for Euthanor...

"There is..." he muttered, counting his words to be spoken low enough for only his' and the Abhartach's ears alone. "No need to disturb the lesser born... For they are watching."

 

[Adosinda Castellanna]

Adosinda's mind was humming, while her whole head was spinning by the weight of the post-arcane delirium, which she was too entangled in its grasp to recognize before it was too late. Something had been set in motion, in this slaughter. Something dark. But the Chaplain could not yet place her hand on it.

"King" she spoke up, slowly moving forth towards Marcus and the knelt Plague Doctor. She was planning on speaking further, if it wasn't for a sergeant of the Black Wolves, who rushed towards her side.

"Commander! We found them!" he declared. His armour blood-stainned while his sword still thick with gore, at hand. "The nobles! Our troops broke into the citadel. The cowards were poisoned, over a pile of emptied wine bottles..."

"Suicide.." Adosinda muttered. Such an act was considered a sin, in Sparnia, and yet, it was more often than naught the case for nobles loosing to an avenging host. It was darker the fate one could anticipate at the hands of vengeful ex-subjects, rather than the divine wrath delivered after the mortal end, it seemed...

"Collect our wounded." Adosinda spoke, her eyes returning to the King in the distance, which seemed to talk with the Plague Doctor. "And see to tend to the non-combatants... They are our people now." she instructed.

The very order sounded obsurd to the sergeant. He openned his mouth to retort, that there were hardly any civilians left alive, by the massacre, yet he hesitated, choosing to allow her a breather, as she clearly was attracted by a much heavier scene. By all means, Plague Doctors were not a common sight in Sparnia. This one's very existence was kept a secret, until he was discovered during the final days of the siege, and yet, most were too afraid of his role to report it...

 

[Marcus Aumont]

Marcus observed Euthanor closely as the Plague Doctor's defiance began to crumble under the weight of his inevitable fate. The vampire king’s cold smile widened as Euthanor finally spoke, his voice subdued yet resolute.

Marcus's eyes narrowed slightly, considering the request. "Your cooperation is wise," he replied, his voice smooth and calculating. "I shall grant you the dignity befitting your rank, as long as you fulfill your end of the bargain."

Marcus turned his head slightly, his supernatural senses scanning the area. In the distance, he spotted a figure—Adoshina—her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Her presence was no longer concealed, her surprise at discovering Marcus’s true nature as a vampire evident even from afar.

"Interesting," Marcus murmured, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. He turned back to Euthanor, his expression thoughtful. "This complicates things, but it may also work to our advantage. Let her watch for now; I have no need to hide what I am."

Marcus stepped closer to Euthanor, his gaze intense. "Remember, Doctor, your cooperation will determine your fate. Betray me, and no rank or title will save you from my wrath. But aid me faithfully, and you may find yourself in a position of power unlike any you’ve known." And this was the deal, the deal of the devil himself.

He paused, letting his words sink in before adding, "As for my commander…. Adosinda will you stand there observing or will you come out and ask the questions you seek?”

With that, Marcus released the invisible hold over Euthanor, allowing him to stand on his own accord, though still under the watchful eye of the vampire king. The game had shifted, and now, with Adoshina in the mix, the stakes were even higher.

Tag: @Euthanor Nachimar