[Dardouen] The Sentence (Veriel)

Filled with people both proud and poor, the Imperium is a land of ambition, glory and a belief in the power of the mortal spirit.

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Mirage
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Dardouen


17th of Ash, 124 AS
Location: Somewhere over northern Dardouen

The airship in which they found themselves was a true work of craftsmanship. Elegant and slender in design, its body was metallic silver wrapped in gold and black bands. On its side was the emblem of the Imperial Family, with Princess Evina's personal crest placed just beneath it. The inside of the craft was furnished like a nobles mansion. Tapestries draped the walls showing the emblems of the Imperium and the Princess in alternating patterns. The main cabin took up most of the space within the main level of the airship, with stairs on the far end leading upstairs to an observatory that gave a full view of the ships surroundings. The main level also had a functional washroom and full kitchen, as well as a master suit where the Princess slept and kept her belongings. The level below was where the crew members slept, and was also where all the ships storage could be found.

While inside the main cabin it was easy to forget one was flying miles above the ground. Plush armchairs circled a magical herth which gave off a warming heat without flame. The lights overhead were a soft white and could change colors using a small dial on the wall. Currently the Princess sat on one of the couches, her legs crossed with a stack of papers beside her left hand. She wore her black hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and her clothing was comfortable if still somewhat formal for guests. On the bridge of her nose sat a pair of glasses which shimmered slightly as she looked down at a small metallic disc. Her hand passed over the disc from time to time, and afterwards she would take up her pen and make a note on her stack of papers.

Behind her stood Taryn, the young Avialae with silver hair who held a striking resemblance to his father. His posture was ridged, wings pulled tight against his back, and his eyes glanced from the windows back to the Princess in a repeating pattern.

They were on their way Dardouen, but thus far the Princess had not said why. Veriel, of course, was an unfortunate passenger in this excursion. Ever since the trial she had been forced to stay within earshot of the Princess. She could go no where unescorted. There was no danger, no excitement. The Princess spent the majority of her days with the researchers in Cognisca, looking at documents, and observing the latest experiments of the Nexus. Now she was here. Trapped in an airship, unable to escape.

A servant appeared from the kitchen to set a plate of small snacks on the table between them. The Princess glanced up and smiled at the servant before returning to her work. Taryn remained uncomfortably vigilant.

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Laveriel
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Title: The Dread Witch
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?t=936
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Two seasons had passed since the god Veriel served for over a century had delivered her into the hands of those who had painted her home red. The ones who had stripped away any semblance of security or comfort from her for the last two decades. It was, after all, a fitting punishment for Laveriel d'Revrinti. The god of justice had dealt it himself, so she must deserve it. And just to rub salt in the wound, she was made to watch the genocidal empire thrive, advancing unchecked and unpunished for the atrocities they committed in their pursuit of power.

Gods, the thought made her want to laugh—or perhaps to scream. But she did neither.

Instead, Veriel sat quietly on the far side of the hearth, her gaze drifting around the room for the dozenth time. If a civilian walked in, there was no doubt that they would think her simply a guest. She did not look like a prisoner, after all. There were no chains, no restraints. The dress she wore gave glimpses of the silvery witchmarks twisting around her limbs. She might as well be an ambassador from Auris. Over the years, she had adopted Kalzasern fashion, but recently, she found herself avoiding any small reminder of what had been taken from her. So it was Aurisian attire she now wore, ever since leaving the city that had turned on her. The place Ryo had once dreamed of living, if only he had survived the siege.

Now, she was little more than a glorified handmaiden—if one could even call it that, given that she only obeyed orders if it offered her some new insight into her so-called home and companions. They mostly left her alone, as long as she stayed within Evina’s sight. Which, of course, meant within Taryn’s sight as well.

The young avialae was quite amusing. Like father, like son, she supposed. Ever the vigilant guardian, Taryn was constantly on edge, his attention darting between Evina and the threats lurking beyond the windows. His gaze barely landed on Veriel at all. Perhaps, after all this time, he had grown accustomed to her presence. Perhaps he thought she was no threat. Or maybe he simply believed she wouldn’t be foolish enough to harm a princess aboard an Imperial ship.

That would be suicidal and despite what the trial wanted to paint her as, that she was not. Veriel was fine. She hadn’t killed anyone or herself, which surely meant she was fine.

There were days when she longed to scream. Days when laughter seemed to bubble within her, bitter and unrestrained. And there were days when she wondered what would happen if she reached out, letting her fingers brush against Evina’s face, allowing the afflictions within her to seize the girl.

But not yet. Not while a piece of Ryo remained trapped in this place. Not while the Dawnmartyrs were still imprisoned in this cursed land. And not while there were still scores to be settled.
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Mirage
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They continued on in silence. This was a common occurrence, which the Princess never seemed inclined remedy. Silence allowed the mind to work, to filter through the tasks of the day and make plans for the future. Evina herself did not participate in small talk if she did not have to, and appreciated those who did not fall to purposeless chatter. There was some tension in this quiet though. The former knights disposition toward her current life was well known. Of course no one would bridge the topic with her. Such delicate matters were best left to close friends and family... of which she had none.

Evina looked up from her work to gaze out the window at the passing farmland beneath them. Dardouen was a lush and beautiful duchy, rich both in coin and resources. It was a start contrast to Tranal which was mountinous and difficult to cultivate. In a word this land was beautiful, if only on the outside.

"We will be there soon." Evina said absently, not expecting an answer. Her eyes looked back down at her papers, and then she sighed. Removing the spectacles she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Honestly, I hope that this trip is better than the last."

At this Taryn stiffened and looked down at his master, "Do you suspect the Count is plotting something?"

The Princess chuckled and sighed again before giving Taryn an amused smile, "Of course he is. They always do, but that is to be expected." Shaking her head she returned the spectacles and looked back down at the papers, "No I am not worried about the Count or his plots. They are almost amusing in a way. I am more vexed by his ward."

Her face drew up in a grimace of distaste before smoothing out once more. Taryn seemed confused, but did not press further.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. When the Princess next looked up she looked out the window and motioned to Taryn to look as well.

"Look." She said, pointing out over an empty field. There floated a large structure, monstrous in size. It was as if a castle had been ripped from the ground and cast into heaven. Large crystal structures implanted in its base gave off a steady pulsing blue light. Great towers topped with intricately carved rings glowed with power.

"Die Himmelstadt" The princes said, a note of pride evident in her tone, "The floating city. One of the Imperial Dreadnaughts, and our final destination."

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Laveriel
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Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 6:55 am
Title: The Dread Witch
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?t=936
Plot Notes: viewtopic.php?t=3186
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?f=20&t=941

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Even to that day, Veriel struggled to understand the purpose of her sentence. If they intended to imprison her, they could have easily thrown her back into the Nexus to rot for another century or two. Instead, the dark-haired elf had been granted access to royal facilities. The only explanation she could think of was that they still had some use for her. But what? Did they hope to exploit her knowledge of Ailos and the crypts? Surely, they knew there was no chance she would help them willingly. They could force her, perhaps, but they hadn’t done that.

Now, they were even taking her on a trip to Dardouen, as though she were some sort of guest. Did they truly not fear she would try to escape? Not that she had given them any reason to worry—she hadn’t tried to run even once. Despite her attitude, Veriel had obediently served her sentence, playing nice to avoid undue attention. Besides, if she ever did make an escape attempt, she’d only have one chance. She would need to use everything she had, and she wasn’t willing to reveal her entire arsenal to the Imperium unless she was certain she could succeed.

But that didn’t stop her from imagining it as she turned the pages of a novel she’d borrowed from Evina’s library. She was fairly certain it was about a secret romance between a marquess and a commoner—a popular theme in Imperial novels, as far as she could tell.

Upon boarding the ship, Veriel had scanned for any possible openings that would allow her to jump once they were airborne. Before the trial, she might have survived it. It wouldn’t be the first time she had materialized a shield mid-air to create a temporary platform, if only to slow her fall. Upon landing, she would have fortified her body using her emblem. But that was no longer feasible. And even if she managed to land, she’d still have to fend off soldiers and Kathar in pursuit, not to mention the ship itself, which was no doubt outfitted with weapons.

When Evina announced that they would be arriving soon, Veriel looked up. An Imperial Dreadnaught. It was an unbelievable creation. She couldn’t fathom how an entire city could float in the air while Ailos still lay buried under rubble.

“Why are we here?” Veriel finally asked, her own voice sounding foreign to her. Conversation was a rare activity for her since returning to the Imperium. A shrewder individual might have seized the opportunity to befriend Evina and Taryn, extracting whatever information she could. But charm had never been her strong suit, and she doubted she could convincingly pretend to be civil. One look at her face would betray her aversion at being there.

“Why am I here?” They could have locked her away, far from any view of their empire. So, why show her this?
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Mirage
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The Princess looked back at Veriel when she spoke, a note of surprise showing in her expression before it was replaced with another smile.

"You are here because I am here." She said simply before turning back to the window, "As for why we are here... I was asked to come for a consultation."

Taryn watched Veriel warily, but when he spoke his words were directed at the Princess, "Did the Count request you?"

Evina shook her head, "No. It was one of the Legion engineers, Knight-Commander Orin Talvren of the Sapphire Hand. He is currently in command of the Die Himmelstadt, and it is in need of some maintenance it seems."

The ship was slowly turning away from the Dreadnaught and another city came into view. This city was located at the center of rolling hills, like a great ship in the middle of a golden sea. It was built around a bustling trade center surrounded by elegant buildings of stone. Streets and pathways of stone created an intricate labyrinth that, even from this height, was filled to bursting with people going about their days. There was a clear structure to the layout of the city. A Merchants center near the Artisan street, homes that ringed the city with the richer dwellings being closer to the center.

Altenberg was a well known trade hub that linked norther Dardouen to all the other duchies. It was overseen by Count Elias Thornveil, a man known to be quite cunning in the circles of nobility, and who had seen the city grow and prosper greatly since he took over from his own Father.

Their ship set down in a small airship yard just a short distance from the city itself.

"Well, I suppose it is time." Evina said with a note of defeat in her voice. She gathered her things and stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her clothing and leaving to exit down the ramp to the yard below. Taryn followed her, a silent shadow with his guard up as always. At the bottom of the ramp a man waited in front of a clearly expensive carriage.

This was a man in the later part of his 40's or possibly early 50's. Slightly chubby, but one could still see the remnants of a once fit body beneath the extra layers of flab. The hair on his head was swept back in a style popular among the nobility, and his mustache was long and twisted into curls at the end.

"Your Highness." His voice was deep and refine, and the bow he gave was expertly done. Not too low to imply submission, but not high enough to cause offence, "Welcome to Altenberg."

"Count Thornviel." Princess Evina said politely. She did not bow. "I appreciate your hospitality on such short notice."

"Think nothing of it Your Highness." The Count said and straightened, offering a warm and welcoming smile, "My city is always open to you, day or night." His eyes scanned both Taryn and Veriel, becoming more calculating as he did, "And who are your guests?"

Though he said it to reference both of the people behind Evina, it was clear the question was an inquiry after Veriel. After all it was clear what Taryn was and why he was there.

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word count: 565
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Laveriel
Posts: 206
Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 6:55 am
Title: The Dread Witch
Character Sheet: viewtopic.php?t=936
Plot Notes: viewtopic.php?t=3186
Character Secrets: viewtopic.php?f=20&t=941

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It wasn’t much of an answer, but Veriel chose not to press for more details. When Taryn glanced her way, she cocked an eyebrow at him challengingly. She had to admit, there was a mild satisfaction in antagonizing him now and then. And at least her silence was rewarded with a bit more information as he and Evina continued their conversation. She tucked the name Orin Talvren into her mind, intrigued. It was interesting that a Dreadnaught was under the command of the emperor’s personal army rather than the empire’s military.

To call upon a royal for maintenance was also curious. Veriel had never lived among aristocrats, nor had she ever come close, but it seemed unusual for anyone to request the presence of a princess. Then again, she was no expert on Imperial politics, so for now, she would merely observe.

Once they arrived, Veriel followed silently behind Taryn, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun. Her heart hammered in her chest, each beat echoing the heightened alertness thrumming within her. Adrenaline surged through her veins, sharpening her senses as her silvery eyes swept over every flicker of movement. She was in enemy territory, and instinct screamed at her to resist, to lash out. It was a habit her body refused to shed. Every new, unfamiliar place served as a reminder that, though she was no longer behind bars, she was still a captive. She was still waiting for the blade that would finally end her.

When it didn’t come, the siltori allowed her gaze to settle on Count Thornviel, an older man who looked exactly like what she imagined Imperial noblemen would look like. He bore the easy comfort of someone well-settled into his comforts, though there was a faint hint that he hadn’t always been so sedentary in his younger years.

“And who are your guests?”

Veriel didn’t respond. What could she even say, if she felt like introducing herself? Laveriel d’Revrinti, former Dawnmartyr, and current prisoner of the state. Instead, she simply met the Count’s gaze steadily. To be honest, she was also somewhat curious about how Evina would choose to introduce her.
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Mirage
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The Princess returned the Count's smile with her own, and she too glanced back at her companions.

"This is my Imperial Guard, Taryn, whom I am certain you are familiar with." She said this with the air of someone commenting on the obvious. Then her hand waved in Veriel's direction.

"This is Laveriel, a prisoner of the Nexus, now serving her sentence as my assistant. Due to the violent nature of her crimes, she is forbidden from wielding or even approaching anything resembling a weapon. But fear not; she is quite tame"

At first, the Count regarded Laveriel with a spark of interest, his gaze drifting over her with a hint of something less than innocent. But as the Princess continued, his eyes slowly widened, shifting to Evina with newfound focus. Evina, for her part, seemed quietly pleased by his reaction.

"She will remain by my side at all times—for obvious reasons," Evina continued, casting a glance toward the carriage. "Shall we?"

"I... y-yes of course. Come this way." Any further questions the Count might have harbored faded unspoken as he gestured for the group to follow. Walking a few steps behind them, Taryn sighed and shook his head but remained silent.

A servant held the carriage door open, extending a hand to assist Evina and Laveriel as they stepped inside. Taryn, meanwhile, stood outside, wings stretching in readiness to follow in flight. Inside, Count Thornviel took the seat nearest the driver, leaving the Princess and Laveriel to settle across from him.

A servant held the carriage door open, extending a hand to assist Evina and Laveriel as they stepped inside. Taryn, meanwhile, stood outside, wings stretching in readiness to follow in flight. Inside, Count Thornviel took the seat nearest the driver, leaving the Princess and Veriel to settle across from him.

The carriage jolted softly as it set into motion, the rhythmic clatter of wheels filling the air. Count Thornviel adjusted himself in his seat, his gaze fixed intently on the Princess as if he were weighing each word before speaking.

"So," he began, his tone carefully measured, "to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Your Highness?" His eyes remained locked on Evina, deliberately avoiding even a passing glance at Veriel, though the faintest tension in his posture suggested her presence was not far from his mind.

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