Taste of the Emperor's Disfavor
Glade 4, 122 Age of Steel
Dryka walked confidently into the empty room and glanced around the room his brown eyes taking in the layout of the room. It wasn’t anything special, nice and probable luxurious by a peasants standard but Dryka was sure that the two young men who would soon occupy it though they were slumming it. With the thought of the room soon being occupied the Geraet didn’t waist any time going about the room and making sure everything was ready. There were the two glasses set aside with a cabinet of drinks behind ready to be used if the clients wanted to enjoy themselves.
Dryka controlled his expressions as he though how silly this place was, and that people didn’t think that the Emperor was aware of such places. Oh course someone could have come in and closed this place down, but that would just be treating the symptom of the sickenss. No, sending Dryka was the best way to handle problems like this.
Dryka checked to make sure everything was in place and then walked over and flipped the glasses over and whispering a command word stuck his gloved finger into the glass and ran it around both the inside of the cups and the outside of the cups. As he did so he could feel the liquid stored in the tips of the gloves begin to spread in a smooth coat across the glass of the cups. Seeing that it was done the young man stepped out of the room through the servants door. He paused on the other side and just stood there breathing in deeply and releasing slowly. It wasn’t nerves, Dryka was after all protected by the Emperor, he just had to not disappoint or embarrass him. He actually felt sorry for what he had to do this day, but it was better this way.
As he stood there slowly breathing he heard the main door to the room open and people entered the room. Dryka waited a moment his current form shifted to be rather generic neither handsome or ugly, clothing bland anything a servant would wear. His hair was brown, but he rarely changed it as brown was a good neutral color, and brown covered such a broad range of shades where red, blond or even true black weren’t as common, and drew the eye more. His eyes he had adjusted away from the rich earthy brown they defaulted to instead it was just plain brown. It took more work to make the color adjustment but otherwise he would have to try to avoid eye contact.
Taking a deep breath Dryka opened himself to the Symphony. There were a verity but the two beyond the door were the ones he picked up right away but it took him a moment to separate which of the two he wanted. Ah yes there they were and that was they one he wanted. Using the overture technique he felt himself slip into the young nobleman’s symphony. Neither of these youth were all that high ranking nobles, but they were young men who had to much time on their hands, and were beginning to talk about how they could restructure the Empire so that they would be in power. While the Emperor didn’t object to that these two’s plans had started to go towards shifting of Imperial power.
The most pressing rhythm was nervousness. Dryka focused on the different melodies within that, yes their plotting was dangerous, would it work, most likely not Dryka thought. He kept weaving his way through the melodies, ahh there it was. He really wanted a drink, and wanted something to fidget with in his hands. Dryka began tunning to that melody feeding it slowly with either so that the thirst slowly began to occupy his mind. Then the Rhythm changed just a bit to a stiff drink would help his nerves.
Dryka pulled back then not needing to feed it more and focused on not gasping for breath at the exertion of energy. He could hear one of the voices say. “I need a drink. Do you want one.”
“I never turn down a drink.” There was the foot steps and the click of a bottle on glasses.
“Thank you.” Came the answer after a few more steps. There was silence for a few seconds and then the voice picked back up. Dryka listened, the two men began again talking and Dryka could hear most of what one said but the other, the one he had manipulated, was softer spoken.
“Locked in his palace city.” Came one statement. “Unaware of the struggle we go through.” Dryka resisted the urge to snort. Did he really expect the Emperor to walk the streets and meet everyone. He had tools for that, besides Dryka didn’t see these two working with their hands. While Dryka had been chosen to act he to had received training in other fields seeing where his talents lay. He had a idea of actual labor.
Dryka’s musing were cut short as he heard sounds of gasping from the other side of the door. There was the sound as one, now two cups feel to the ground. Dryka then heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. He contorted his face and then raced into the room.
“Oh good, Sirs what fell.” He said contorting his face to be concerned. One of them was already staring blankly up at him while they other was tearing at his mouth like he could remove the toxin. Dryka raced forward and said. “Are you couching good Sir.” Dryka knelt next to the young man and watched as his eyes glazed over. It was enough.
Dryka shot up and ran down the stairs. “Their dead.” He shouted in a panicked voice. He burst into the kitchen in a panic shouting. “Their dead, get a doctor, get the authorities.” The various other workers suddenly all began bustling about in a panic. Dryka grabbed his face then and ran to the bathroom like he was going to be sick.
Once inside he made some retching sounds. While doing so he opened his mind to spatial mapping, and felt the slipspace. Taking a deep breath he followed the path he had planned for to an allyway he had studied before starting on this adventure. Pulling Aether he vaulted to that location. As he landed in the allyway he reached out and grabbed for the wall of a building, and stood there gasping for breath. That was it for Dryka today he most likely could continue to do magic but he was near his overstepping point. Dryka looked around and then stepped out from behind the pile of garbage he had selected and walked down the alley. This lead through a few other allies before it would open out onto a new street. Part way through he paused and pulled out a Garet rob and slip his mask on at that point having made sure no one was watching.
Even as he walked away he allowed his features to slip back into there default appearance as a man. No one would ask a Gerat to take the mask off but better to discard that appearance since physically he would match others. His biggest benefit was the facelessness of a Gerat. The Emperor’s servants most honored them, but no one saw beyond the mask. Dryka made sure that he walked onto a busy street.
Dryka fought through he tiredness as he moved through the streets, and allowed the sorrow of having to kill the two men come upon him. The mask hide the tears and grief on his face, they were both dead, it was for the greater good, but Dryka looked full in the face that he had killed them. He also knew he would do it again, but hopped that he wouldn’t be called on to do it often. Dryka took a deep breath and pressed on home.
Once he back to the school he stopped by the cantina first. The use of glamor that day had drained his reserves and he wasn’t sure if he would need to make anymore changes, and one of the first things they taught you as a Geraet was to be ready for anything. So the masked Fae grabbed a sandwich before heading up to his room.
Once inside he set the sandwich down and stripped out of the clothing he had worn for the assignment. His gloves he placed carefully on a shelf before slipping on a pair of normal gloves. Dryka had stored his toxin in the gloves and hadn’t consumed any fire ants for a couple days so they should be safe, and he had been assured he was immune to his own toxin, but he still felt safer. He slipped the robe back on and grabbed the sandwich as he collapsed onto the couch and ate the sandwich, and while still there slipped into a nap.
He still had a play to perform in tonight.
Glade 4, 122 Age of Steel
Dryka walked confidently into the empty room and glanced around the room his brown eyes taking in the layout of the room. It wasn’t anything special, nice and probable luxurious by a peasants standard but Dryka was sure that the two young men who would soon occupy it though they were slumming it. With the thought of the room soon being occupied the Geraet didn’t waist any time going about the room and making sure everything was ready. There were the two glasses set aside with a cabinet of drinks behind ready to be used if the clients wanted to enjoy themselves.
Dryka controlled his expressions as he though how silly this place was, and that people didn’t think that the Emperor was aware of such places. Oh course someone could have come in and closed this place down, but that would just be treating the symptom of the sickenss. No, sending Dryka was the best way to handle problems like this.
Dryka checked to make sure everything was in place and then walked over and flipped the glasses over and whispering a command word stuck his gloved finger into the glass and ran it around both the inside of the cups and the outside of the cups. As he did so he could feel the liquid stored in the tips of the gloves begin to spread in a smooth coat across the glass of the cups. Seeing that it was done the young man stepped out of the room through the servants door. He paused on the other side and just stood there breathing in deeply and releasing slowly. It wasn’t nerves, Dryka was after all protected by the Emperor, he just had to not disappoint or embarrass him. He actually felt sorry for what he had to do this day, but it was better this way.
As he stood there slowly breathing he heard the main door to the room open and people entered the room. Dryka waited a moment his current form shifted to be rather generic neither handsome or ugly, clothing bland anything a servant would wear. His hair was brown, but he rarely changed it as brown was a good neutral color, and brown covered such a broad range of shades where red, blond or even true black weren’t as common, and drew the eye more. His eyes he had adjusted away from the rich earthy brown they defaulted to instead it was just plain brown. It took more work to make the color adjustment but otherwise he would have to try to avoid eye contact.
Taking a deep breath Dryka opened himself to the Symphony. There were a verity but the two beyond the door were the ones he picked up right away but it took him a moment to separate which of the two he wanted. Ah yes there they were and that was they one he wanted. Using the overture technique he felt himself slip into the young nobleman’s symphony. Neither of these youth were all that high ranking nobles, but they were young men who had to much time on their hands, and were beginning to talk about how they could restructure the Empire so that they would be in power. While the Emperor didn’t object to that these two’s plans had started to go towards shifting of Imperial power.
The most pressing rhythm was nervousness. Dryka focused on the different melodies within that, yes their plotting was dangerous, would it work, most likely not Dryka thought. He kept weaving his way through the melodies, ahh there it was. He really wanted a drink, and wanted something to fidget with in his hands. Dryka began tunning to that melody feeding it slowly with either so that the thirst slowly began to occupy his mind. Then the Rhythm changed just a bit to a stiff drink would help his nerves.
Dryka pulled back then not needing to feed it more and focused on not gasping for breath at the exertion of energy. He could hear one of the voices say. “I need a drink. Do you want one.”
“I never turn down a drink.” There was the foot steps and the click of a bottle on glasses.
“Thank you.” Came the answer after a few more steps. There was silence for a few seconds and then the voice picked back up. Dryka listened, the two men began again talking and Dryka could hear most of what one said but the other, the one he had manipulated, was softer spoken.
“Locked in his palace city.” Came one statement. “Unaware of the struggle we go through.” Dryka resisted the urge to snort. Did he really expect the Emperor to walk the streets and meet everyone. He had tools for that, besides Dryka didn’t see these two working with their hands. While Dryka had been chosen to act he to had received training in other fields seeing where his talents lay. He had a idea of actual labor.
Dryka’s musing were cut short as he heard sounds of gasping from the other side of the door. There was the sound as one, now two cups feel to the ground. Dryka then heard the sound of a body hitting the floor. He contorted his face and then raced into the room.
“Oh good, Sirs what fell.” He said contorting his face to be concerned. One of them was already staring blankly up at him while they other was tearing at his mouth like he could remove the toxin. Dryka raced forward and said. “Are you couching good Sir.” Dryka knelt next to the young man and watched as his eyes glazed over. It was enough.
Dryka shot up and ran down the stairs. “Their dead.” He shouted in a panicked voice. He burst into the kitchen in a panic shouting. “Their dead, get a doctor, get the authorities.” The various other workers suddenly all began bustling about in a panic. Dryka grabbed his face then and ran to the bathroom like he was going to be sick.
Once inside he made some retching sounds. While doing so he opened his mind to spatial mapping, and felt the slipspace. Taking a deep breath he followed the path he had planned for to an allyway he had studied before starting on this adventure. Pulling Aether he vaulted to that location. As he landed in the allyway he reached out and grabbed for the wall of a building, and stood there gasping for breath. That was it for Dryka today he most likely could continue to do magic but he was near his overstepping point. Dryka looked around and then stepped out from behind the pile of garbage he had selected and walked down the alley. This lead through a few other allies before it would open out onto a new street. Part way through he paused and pulled out a Garet rob and slip his mask on at that point having made sure no one was watching.
Even as he walked away he allowed his features to slip back into there default appearance as a man. No one would ask a Gerat to take the mask off but better to discard that appearance since physically he would match others. His biggest benefit was the facelessness of a Gerat. The Emperor’s servants most honored them, but no one saw beyond the mask. Dryka made sure that he walked onto a busy street.
Dryka fought through he tiredness as he moved through the streets, and allowed the sorrow of having to kill the two men come upon him. The mask hide the tears and grief on his face, they were both dead, it was for the greater good, but Dryka looked full in the face that he had killed them. He also knew he would do it again, but hopped that he wouldn’t be called on to do it often. Dryka took a deep breath and pressed on home.
Once he back to the school he stopped by the cantina first. The use of glamor that day had drained his reserves and he wasn’t sure if he would need to make anymore changes, and one of the first things they taught you as a Geraet was to be ready for anything. So the masked Fae grabbed a sandwich before heading up to his room.
Once inside he set the sandwich down and stripped out of the clothing he had worn for the assignment. His gloves he placed carefully on a shelf before slipping on a pair of normal gloves. Dryka had stored his toxin in the gloves and hadn’t consumed any fire ants for a couple days so they should be safe, and he had been assured he was immune to his own toxin, but he still felt safer. He slipped the robe back on and grabbed the sandwich as he collapsed onto the couch and ate the sandwich, and while still there slipped into a nap.
He still had a play to perform in tonight.
