encounter with vekel & verdict

"I'm not a Ghoul anymore, Chaska.. but the withdrawal symptoms are nigh unbearable… My past choices koma at meini- they haunt me."

In an awful attempt to hide his ailment, Vekel turns around midair, spitting a bile of blood on the once clean grass. How disgusting. Shaking his head, the bags under his eyes seemed evermore apparent, bloodshot olive eyes staring out at the benevolent.

".. but I'd like that. However you can, cleanse me of my hunger. I long for Kassarus' blood.. but I know I mustn't return to that land of sheep. I've no problems with holy magic."

A pause, taking in her valid criticisms of the Vanirhallan people.

"Aye.. we came to seek freedom from the tethers that bound us back on the motherland. With the Triumvirate being outlawed, we sought refuge on Esshar- and it was beautiful, for a time. Even after the alliance.. I believed myself close to divinity."

"But I was wrong. I was greedy and impatient in my pursuit. It takes its toll on me, even now."

Crossing his arms, he tilts his head slightly.

"I hope the High Priestess is well... She must be devastated. Most certainly after the tales she told me about Siegmund and being the last of her generation. I wish.. I wish I could console her."

"I'll avoid violence, in my pursuit to Jarldom. They never agreed with Revna's decision to banish me, so I reckon they have love for me still. If you don't mind, if you are to help me, I'd prefer it on academy grounds."

He didn't believe Osrona hated him- most certainly not after ousting Elias.. but he needed to remain prudent.

".. I'm inherently a violent being, Chaska. Please remember that. If you are to help me, keep in mind that I revere bloodshed and most of my goals are unethical. I'm not a good person."

He'd warned Rosemarin about it too.

"If you can look past that, then I may call upon you, some time."
(Vekel)

Vekel briefly glances at Ambrose.
(Vekel)

Ambrose just floats there, quietly humming.

He watches; inquisitive, thoughtful.
(Ambrose Roche)

Vekel says, "Good day, Leonid."

Leonid Asimov says, "Ah-hah..."

Leonid Asimov says, "I walked into something interesting. Hello, Vekel."

Vekel says, "Ambrose, you're a bit far from home."

Ambrose Roche says, "Well, depends what you call home..."

Chaska waits to respond until the violence has passed. For now she simply watches.
(Chaska Alder)

Ambrose Roche says, "My true home? Yes. A whole continent and an ocean away."

Vekel asks, "You believe Asphodel will achieve that?"

Vekel asks, "Conquest?"

"Hm.."

Another thoughtful hum passes. For a moment, he genuinely considers it- but as far as he could tell..

"No."

The answer may be sudden, but it is a genuine thought that he had. Even then, a remark follows.

"At most, they will take the peninsula- they will go no further that beach right behind you, where Deep Company once stood."

By no means that is taking the whole Esshar - not even close. If one were to measure it, then Osrona is already holding a bigger land than that.. much bigger than peninsula itself.

Yet they're no acclaimed conquerors.

"I've seen gods among men. Angels, in flesh, right before my eyes."

"Neither could achieve full conquest."

"Asphodel is far out of that league to even hope to conquer full Esshar - not even in centuries."
(Ambrose Roche)

Leonid rubs his eyes. A step back is taken and he leans against the wall, for now observing the unfolding situation.

A quiet, pensive hum comes from him as he listens - but nothing more.
(Leonid Asimov)

Momentarily, his focus is given to Ambrose, assuming Chaska a patient woman.

"I agree."

Three armor-clad fingers are raised, brandishing his Magitech accessory- advanced runic markings and health readings constantly flickering through its digital screen.

"Three people that I respect in Asphodel- Ambrose, Sebastian and Kassarus. You attempted to capture me when I tried to leave Asphodel, I presume on Araceli's orders."

"I can forgive you for that."

A pause.

".. but can you forgive me for wanting to kill your Queen? The Oathbreaker Elias? The ones who attempt to impede on my divinity?"

Tired eyes stared out, waiting for an answer. He knew how Ambrose's treks across the lands went- riddled with moral debates, random assaults and that wasn't even all of it.

Vekel, for a change, could likely provide a breath of fresh air should discourse go pleasantly.
(Vekel)

A peculiar device.

Ambrose was no stranger to such- he was an artificer, and one that has worked with various runesmithing techniques. The device is immediately noted, so much so that Ambrose could even immediately tell its creator.

"--So you took what Benedict constructed for you. Interesting."

Even then, the mention of such names is simply listened to- at the mention of Sebastian, however, there was a somewhat solemn expression.

"Sebastian is grieving. He loved Revna."

"He tried to have himself killed in her place, so that she may live. I anticipate he will be a broken man now - perhaps, he'll even need you."

"At least in his quest for revenge."

But.. where the remark comes about Elias and Araceli, there is a tad bit of honesty- and even an amused smile. There are, of course, the details that Vekel could not immediately know right now, but..

It doesn't matter.

"Perhaps you do not remember, but.."

"I don't like Elias. There is nothing to 'forgive' you for when it comes to him."

So much so that-- actually.. it is best left unsaid. Even away from his thoughts. For Araceli, however..

"You can try to stop her. You can try to defeat her."

"You may even succeed - and perhaps halt her attempts altogether, whether by force or diplomacy." A pause.

"But-"

There is something about Araceli that Ambrose could not just allow to vanish, to disappear from this world.

"She is a vital piece to my eventual march against Apropriya and its Elders."

"To kill her is to destroy my future. I cannot forgive that." A pause; in the end, however, there is a difference to be made.

"I would forgive you for stopping her, by any means necessary."

"But I would not forgive killing her - and as result, destroying my future."
(Ambrose Roche)

A little shake of his head, aiming to clear the misconception.

"This was a gift from Rosemarin. I've been learning under her, lately- I have many Paths to choose from- all of them leading to the same end point."


"Godhood."


In response to Ambrose's transparency, he reciprocates.

"Though, Benedict did try to fight me with his mechanical creation. He lost. My new blade rests in my personal drawer, I didn't plan on using it, today."

A furrow of his brow as the Roche mentions a grieving Sebastian. They'd gotten married after all, then. What a shame- a future together ended so soon, through warfare no less.

"I'll pen him a letter, one of these days. When the wound is not fresh."

Releasing a curious tone, he brings a forearm to stifle his cough, wiping red residual spitting with a squared fabric.

"He never leaves the Court, does he? I've never seen such a cowardly man in my life."

".. as for Araceli, Ambrose. It's only a matter of time. I have plans, and you have plans. Our ambitions, from what I see, cannot coexist."

Tilting his head, he continues.

"When the day comes where she lies at the end of my blade, I only hope you can stop me- you will be given a chance to protect your future. It's only honorable."

".. as for you? You don't trample on my Faith. You've taught me quite a bit, since I was a child- at one point, I envied you."

A hand is raised.

"I will not attack you."

…

He glances at Verdict.
(Vekel)

Vekel says, ".. so long as you don't give me reasons to."

Verdict took a few steps forward when Vekel glanced over. Her hands were neatly clasped behind her back, the revolver at her hip visible. But holstered still. Hollow eye holes stared forward.

"I've been a bit anxious to face you, though my letters don't seem to get through. Or you simply haven't responded."

She took a second or two to examine the floating man at her side.

Then her gaze returned to Ambrose, a glint of violet shining behind the visor. "Since he wont attack, I assume here would be fine. Now would be grand."

"My challenge. It feels like you've been ignoring it. Come on."

"No more brushing it aside."
(Verdict)

Chaska sighed seeing a fight would break out. She cast one look to Vekel and mouthed the word 'later' before turning to leave. She had more pressing matters within the city.
(Chaska Alder)

The path to Godhood..?

Such a thing is something that he was rather wary of - if only because of the fact he knew all too well what business Ethric and Rosemarin have been involved in the past. Even then..

While he contemplates whether he should tell Vekel or not, there's eventually a remark.

"These two... Rosemarin and Ethric…"

"They are not who they appear to be. Be careful around them."

It is all that he says. Whether Vekel would take that into account or not is entirely different matter, but what seems to alarm him more is that he would try and go through with the destruction of Ambrose's future - even if it lies through death of Araceli.

"There are three things I must tell you." A solemn pause lingers, but despite that, his remarks are poised.

Calm.

"First - to focus on such may lead you to a grave, long before you get to achieve anything. You've been successful so far, but the fate has a cruel sense of humor."

"Second - if that were to ever happen, I will find you. I will be furious." He does not elaborate further. Whatever it could mean, Vekel may deduce on his own.

"And third - to fight against people you have any sort of bond with is bad for the soul."

"It may not sound important to you now - but it is the most important thing I've said."

A glance to another.

To Verdict. He remembers this one... and as much as he's challenged now, there seems to be only a quiet hum.

"I'm not in the best condition. The injury from Cedar Grace lingers on my body, still."

"But I won't decline it either."

There, the shadowy amalgamation comes forth- the manifestation of the Collective, of buzzing voices and whispers. Potent, as usual..

"Come forth, then."
(Ambrose Roche)

"I've learned the best way to learn is through mistakes- either my own.. or that of others. Should you be right, then I'll find out myself."

Ambrose was not a fool. Oft times he spoke not to deceive, but to educate.

Thus, his words were accepted and duly noted.

"I'm aware of the risks that my Path involves. I choose to carry forward willingly. If I'm to die.. then be it in the Blood God's light."

".. it might hurt- either one of us, to fail. But I don't choose to earn your ire... it's just a symptom of my destiny. We'll see when that day comes."

' - but it is the important thing I've said.'

He remained quiet, after that one. While uncertain as to what he meant exactly, surely he'd learn the saying's meaning with time and age. The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

Or maybe that was the lack of immortal blood.

Silently, with Leonid at his side, he observes and attempts to gauge a potential ally's strength.
(Vekel)

"With pleasure." A smile beneath the helmet. Even facing down a foe she knew to be powerful. It brought her heart to racing, brought a tremble to her fingers.

Verdict lifted her right hand, neatly gesturing toward the nearby open space. A proper battlefield the two of them could fight upon.

In the next moment she disappeared from sight, only to appear again in a flash of crackling green and violet energy upon the field. Revolver in hand. She lifted the weapon, pointing the barrel toward the sky as that violent outburst swept back.

Fragments of spiritual energy coalesced around her form, spilling out through her like she was the gate between this world and the ocean. It caused her cloak to flutter without wind to move it.

"Begin."

The moment that word left her lips the world started to fracture. Time slowed, and warped, and suddenly became far more difficult to process.

An uncanny sense of Deja Vu filled the battlefield. Wasn't he here before? Didn't he face her before? His amalgamation was standing like that a year ago. No, was that tomorrow? What day was it, anyway?

Verdict leveled the revolver, and took aim.
(Verdict)

Awfully familiar...

For as much as the Prince has noted the undoubtedly powerful defensive techniques that Verdict presented, there was something else about all of this. Something else that could simply not be ignored anymore.

The magics of Energy, of Time..
And... Occult?

It evidently surprised him- there was a rupture to his constant efforts to try and ensure that Verdict stays down, and yet it simply didn't feel like it did as much as he hoped it to.

Perhaps this strange technique was to blame.
But...

"--I have a feeling we met before."

The noxious fumes fill the air, and yet the dark arrows are flung frivolously, without delay.

"You look awfully.."

"Familiar."
(Ambrose Roche)

Familiar, and awful. Toxins were her bane, as much as she tried to struggle through. Not being able to breathe beneath the helmet made it difficult to dance the way she had with Avelin.

But still, her dance was swift and graceful. Still she dodged past arrows she hadn't even seen coming. Flicking out of existence at times, and returning again a few feet away from where she'd once stood.

Each time she fired another shot. Another bullet of pitch black pierced the air with a shriek. Pure hatred filled each one.

And though she kept up, for the most part, she was also slipping. She got her distance again from the prince, holding a palm between herself and the man to discourage a few shots so she could take a breather. Deep, slow breaths. One after another.

I have a feeling we met before. "Of course we have. Of course I do."

She snatched another arrow out of mid-air, twirling the thing around her fingers before letting its magics be consumed. Those hollow eye holes stared right back at him.

"Outside the Waystone. Don't you recall? Is your memory so poor?" A smile lingered in her tone.

Once more she leveled her revolver toward him. "I am Verdict. It's nice to meet you."
(Verdict)

RP BATTLE} You have WON round 2!

Ambrose Roche has lost 14 vitality from this battle for three hours.

{RP BATTLE} You have WON the battle!

Your bloodpool has been lowered by 1! It has gone from 8/10 to 7/10.

You feel your strength ebb as Cain's essence is used up in battle!

{RP BATTLE} {INJURY} Verdict has rolled 4 for injury!

{RP BATTLE} {CAPTURE} Verdict has rolled 4 for capture!

Verdict has sustained an injury in battle...

Verdict has rolled 2 or over: they may escape capture attempts (unless otherwise specified)!

Tough.

To say that Verdict was no threat would be foolish- quite on the contrary, it was akin to fighting something that would be constantly dragging you down with the magics that were difficult to overcome. It's comparable to..

Swimming against the current.

The most accurate description he could give to such. Even then, while the Collective works to constantly fire arrows against her and the poisons work to make it all too difficult for her to breathe, or even perform..

The wound from earlier makes itself known.

It's difficult to operate when one is this injured- it's difficult to keep going when the deadly slash from Cedar Grace was straining his body to try and regenerate. Even then..

The Prince perseveres.

"--No."

"We've definitely met before, and not at Waystone."

"I cannot quite put my finger on it. But, hm.." There, with the final arrow nocked and readied, the arrow is fired at Verdict, intending to pierce right through her heart.


The shadow is pulled, another voice joins.
The Collective grows again.
With her thoughts, personality and emotions added.


But this does not end here. His hand was extended forth, the purple hue appearing in the end, until..

"Bring her to me."

In conjunction with the Collective, the sudden emergence of rift pulls her closer, right into the hand of the Prince; she's held up by the Vampire, his supernatural strength used to easily hold her, until..

She's eased close, closer.
The fangs emerge,
and sink into her flesh.

Her vitae is drained- plethora of it, but nothing she could not recover from; back from where she was taken, she's dropped into the rift once more.

Emerging just few feet away.

"... I suppose your blood, and a part of you, will be a sufficient payment for bothering me."
(Ambrose Roche)

It was close. So close she could taste victory, she could almost reach out and grasp it within her hands. She could feel it there, taunting, tempting. Yet in her eagerness to get there the woman made a few mistakes.

Impatience. That was her biggest problem. Verdict couldn't wait to get things done and over with. And when she darted in to deal a hefty blow, what was waiting for her was even worse than what she could dish out. The pain of that clash stuck with her through the rest of the fight.

Over time she managed to recover some ground. To push him back, make him work for what he might eventually take. But it wasn't quite enough.

Toxins filled her lungs. One dark arrow struck her shoulder, tearing straight through the cloak that covered her arm. She leveled the pistol, another blast of energy charging within the barrel. If she landed this shot, if she hit true, it would buy her just enough time.

But. It went wide. And the next arrow pierced her form.

The shadow of what she'd become, a piece of herself, was torn away. With it came the scattered remnants of others, too. Kali's bloody form of magic. Avelin's ice. A scattering of the ire of flames and the sturdiness of earth in equally miniscule parts.

Once again, she faced an enemy who she could not beat. But the worst of it was not her failure to win. It was the sense of loss.

The part of herself that was torn away. The blood he drew from her veins.

When she hit the ground again she did not move for a long time. The thought returned to her mind. He was injured. This was him injured. Had she fought at his full strength she wouldn't stand a chance.

She slowly pushed herself up. Enough, at least, to stare toward Ambrose. To glare from behind the visor. "I told you."

"It was outside the Waystone. We've met before."
(Verdict)

Injured or not..

It was still too close for his liking. There are many improvements to be made, it would seem, but for the time being he did not bother to linger around for too long. If anything..

He still had to recover from this terrible wound.

"Hrm."

The only quiet remark. There were still doubts within his mind, but ultimately, he wouldn't dwell on it- there are far too many things for the Prince to do to bother about this.

If anything.. it would only be wiser to move on.

"Perhaps one day I'll unveil that helmet of yours."

"Until then, move along."

With that, Ambrose turns- moving elsewhere, somewhere to the east. No doubt to rest..

For he needed that.
(Ambrose Roche)