Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

A fellow Chaon learns how a Master Reimancer plays.

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Herein lies the realm of dreams, where dreamers who are scattered all over the world in the physical can come together in the mysterious world of dreams. Remember, unless one is a Dreamwalker, there is no control over dreams. Ever. Anything can happen, and by threading a dream, you are subject to whomever can walk dreams and the whims of Storytellers.

Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Annalisa Marin on February 9th, 2014, 11:40 pm

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17th of Winter, 513 AV


The slaves were a ramshackle lot, dragged and beat from their homes and having lasted through a voyage across the sea only to arrive upon an island where an unnatural silence seemed to rule. The group of ten were led in a gaggle through the Citadel, their wrists and ankles bound in heavy chains and following in the wake of a haggard looking Nuit apprentice. The undead man would not talk to them, paying them as much mind as a Shepard might to a flock of sheep. The light of Leth peeked through the sky light of the Courtyard, which was filled with various crypts and graves and flickering shadows that would play the corner of their vision. Whispered words of regret would silently cry out to the slaves, who were continued to be led by the Nuit who seemed unperturbed.

They were led through this eerie domain and into the mouth of an imposing building; each of the slaves would feel a tugging sensation as they passed the threshold into this new domain. Like this was a place where they were not wanted and didn’t belong, more than likely that was not what was latched onto when entering this place. The Sahovan Dungeons were filled with the sounds of soft moans and distant screams of pain, prisoners reaching through the bars of their cells crying out for merciful quick deaths to avoid the torments to come. The slaves were not stopped here, but rather were continued on their path to a long passageway that led downwards.

The screams and moans would fade as the darkness of the Caverns took over, illuminated only by the soft glow of the magelights. Glowing arrows led to various domains but as they were led they would find themselves led down the path where the arrows glowed the brightest. To any denizen on Sahova what lay at the end of those arrows was danger in its most primal of forms. To the slaves they would be left only to wonder what horrific fate awaited them at the end of this journey.

Finally the procession came to a halt at a single seemingly simple door of iron. The letters on it were simple and engraved into the door, reading ‘Lab 7-M’ and otherwise appeared isolated from other doors in the Caverns. The Nuit pushed upon the door lightly and it opened effortlessly, the slaves being led inside quickly and with a bit of flaming res being sent their way to urge their haste onwards. The scene within, could only be described as chaos incarnate.

Men and women, living and dead moved about the massive cavern in squads of three with each seeming to try their hardest to murder the others. Fire met water, ice shards flew about with wanton abandon and lightning crackled through the air as the battle unfolded. Near the far end of the Sanctum opposite the door was a large wall of flickering purple flame, a silhouetted figured seated beyond them and watching the whole display.

A shard of ice caught one of the slaves in the throat and he fell to the ground, gurgling in an expanding pool of his own blood. It was then that a single command echoed through the cavern, its tone feminine but bearing an edge of authority that could not be refused. It came from the direction of the wall of flames, no doubt from the figure sitting beyond.

“Enough.”

With this single simple word all fight ceased immediately, and the combatants all backed away from the center of the cavern, some bearing fresh wounds but not daring to voice their suffering. A couple of charred corpses lay on the floor, those who had not survived the melee of the elements. Scorch marks adorned the ground, evidence of the magical might displayed not mere ticks ago that was ended by a single spoken work.

The figure beyond the wall of flames stood and advanced, the purple flames dying down with her advance towards the center of the cavern. A tall woman strode forth, adorned in the red robes of a master and her feet held in fine leather sandals with her hair bound tightly up in a high ponytail and held in place by a jeweled head piece. Arcane symbols twisted down her hands and fingers, on her right ring finger was a ring that appeared to have been wrought from pure obsidian. Grey eyes were upon the collection of now nine slaves, a cruel smirk playing at her lips.

Annalisa Marin looked at these wretched creatures with some amusement and halted in the center of the cavern, placing her hands in her sleeves regally. Quite the pitiful sight they were, weaklings the lot of them no doubt though Anna new that they wouldn’t need to live very long. They just needed to last long enough for her tests, such was the way of Sahova where even lives were reduced to being mere resources and nowhere else was that more true than Mistress Annalisa Marin’s domain.

“Well now, more toys to amuse myself with, isn’t that just splendid. Welcome to the Elements Sanctum you lot, to your final destination in this life before Dira takes you into her embrace. I am Annalisa Marin, but you’ll be addressing me as Mistress if I allow you the privilege of speaking.” Anna said, a few chuckles rising from the chests of her more seasoned apprentices. It was the same speech she gave every time.

She nodded to the Nuit apprentice and the nine slaves were brought forward, arranged in a neat row for Anna to look at and inspect. One never knew when something unique might have entered into the Element Sanctum and she was ever the weak one for unique things, especially if they were pretty in her eyes. She started slowly pacing down the row, looking at every man and woman with great scrutiny.
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Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Quiarinox on February 10th, 2014, 6:55 am



They faltered in their march, these lumbering creatures brought from the safety of their homes. They staggered at the weight of the shackles and chains binding them together in line, their downed faces watching only the back of those before them. They had been beaten and dragged from their homes, abducted from the safety of the known and placed where they did not belong; every one of them could feel that, too, the foreboding sensations weighed heavily on slumped shoulders.

The scowling woman that found herself nearest the back of the line glared with mounting fury as she was forced to trudge behind someone that reeked of tepid water soured with sweat and grime. Angry and pale, the flickering flame that only grew increasingly wrathful the longer she was forced to hear the clamour of slaves caged and wailing prisoners in the distance. She longed to see what troubles plagued them, morbidly curious about their suffering, but the feeling was muted. She floundered without the pulsing beat of her typical pride and hatred. Stranger still was that, instead of that thrumming arrogance, she felt fear and incredibly aware of her plight, ignoring all but her own thoughts.

When she had passed through the courtyard, her appearance changed without her even being consciously aware of it, a shifting of her skin to correct her figure and continue the nightmare as it had been proceeding. She stuck out with the change, pristine as pillar of moonlight and still hunched and dirtied: sullied by her conditions.

She only rose out of her reverie to the sounds of battle and the flash of djed as it morphed and collided. At a loss, and experiencing a greater crawl of trepedation, the Ethaefal straightened her back to her full bearing and took in the sight as it all fell silent. This place reeked of burning flesh and cloth and felt chilled, as a winter breeze would bring in when it slipped through a crack in the siding of a wall. She had no idea what to make of it. Even during the Djed storm, she had not seen anything quite like this. Perhaps, for that reason alone, she remained silent and ignorant of the woman that crept forward to assess the remaining members of that sorry line of men and women.

Quiarinox returned to herself only when she took notice of the woman but a few people away from her, and like a page had been turned, she lost the fear and the dismay for it to be replaced by scathing racial bias and pride in her own beauty. As if she had forgotten that she was dirty and bruised, chained to a prisoner before and after her, she stared down at this approaching figure from an imaginary pedestal. Oh, she looked forward to spilling every unkind word that waited to be sounded out.

"Character's Speech!"
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Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Annalisa Marin on February 10th, 2014, 6:08 pm

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Anna strode down the sad sideshow of flesh and blood playthings, grey eyes raking them for any traits one might consider rather unique as one never knew what research could be gleaned from that. So far it was only members of her own race she looked upon, though Anna was hard pressed to consider these lot as being human any longer. Part of that line of thinking thrummed at that core of her humanity, decrying it as wrong but it was drowned in the person Sahova had made her into. To be outwardly human was to show weakness of the worst sort, one did not become a Sahovan Master by being weak.

The sorceress was halted in her path when a man opted to take that opportunity to spit on the ground as she passed, her gaze zeroing in on the man and back tracking slightly. His blue eyes glittered with defiance, though Anna could see an undercurrent of fear swimming inside. It hardly surprised her, there was always someone that wanted to try and be defiant and resist and the Sorceress took it upon herself to remind the slaves of exactly what she considered them.

"You shouldn't have done that." Anna said simply, purple translucent res already moving to sheath her hand.

She reached out suddenly and grabbed the slave's neck roughly, who immediately gripped Anna's arm to attempt to wrench it away. The taller woman held on, the purple liquid already forcing itself into the man's eyes, nose, and mouth. He let out a scream of pain as he fell to his knees, clawing at his body as the res violated his body. Anna was not smirking, her face was blank through this whole display as she and all reimancers knew the pain of res entering the body.

She moved the liquid res into a singular spot, the man's lungs, which prompted him to begin hacking and coughing on all fours in an effort to remove the liquid from his body. Anna idly twitched a finger, willing a transmutation from liquid to ice to occur, combining the concepts of air and water to create the powerful para-element. Abruptly a sickening tearing sound filled the air of the Sanctum, the only sounds escaping the man's lips now being wet gurgles as a large shard of ice protruded from where his lungs had been. Anna stared down at him for a moment, before holding her arms out and seeming to address the entire Sanctum.

"Would anyone else like to indicate to any form of displeasure at their current conditions of living? If so, please do speak up and I will be happy to relieve you of continuing to live. I'm certain Dira would simply love to get acquainted with you all very soon." Anna inquired loudly, taking the lack of response as decided response in the negative.

Continuing to the next one down the row Anna found her eyes widening slightly as she was forced to crane her neck up visibly just to look this particular slave in the eyes. She held an unearthly beauty about her, black horns seemingly made of some glassy substance sprouting from her head. Bone white hair cascaded from her head, her eyes black like chips of onyx stone in her skull. By Rhysol she was tall, and though she was a slave Anna could not help but feel smaller for just standing in her presence. Like she was but a mere child standing before an adult once more, playing games when she barely came to above their knees. She was... beautiful hardly began to describe her.

It was not often that Anna could appreciate a Sub-Human, most non-humans were considering nothings in her mind. Worthless in the grander scheme of things unless they proved to her differently. Just looking upon this creature however had struck her speechless, which was a rarity in itself. When she finally recovered she immediately knew she wanted this creature.

"By the Defiler, I think I've met some celestial beauty fallen from the heavens to grace my lab. Tell me, slave, what are you?" Anna asked, though it sounded much more like a demand. Which was rather silly since she literally had to crane her neck upwards to look into her eyes.
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Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Quiarinox on February 11th, 2014, 4:02 am



It would have been too much to expect this to proceed in an orderly silence, and although nobody spoke out to complain at the conditions, Quiarinox was not alone when she flinched. Her eyes narrowed, darkening with some cruel thought, and she leaned forward as if to express silent anticipation. She would not have complained if more had fallen to that horrible death, aside from being put out that there would be dead weight to drag if they were led forward all over again.

The Ethaefal straightened back in line, her thoughts silent and scalding. So strongly judgmental and condescending, she did not show particular deference to the woman that continued forward to face her, bringing with her the chill of the ice that had murdered the man previous. In fact, if it were possible, she drew herself up taller than she normally carried herself. She literally took the pleasure of staring down her nose at this woman, her marble features cracking in the thinnest of smirks at the wonder she expected this little wisp of a human woman to be feeling.


"I am... much more than you, it seems," Quiarinox began her response in tone that steadily grew more even, adapting to this situation and expressing her typical disregard for any form of superiority that did not belong to her. Her smirk faded into something horrible, a scowl maybe, and she inclined her head. As with the people of Lhavit, she bowed in greeting, but the gesture had never been as pointed nor proud as it was this day. It was as if she was exaggerated in her gestures and the genuine way she expressed them. "You have such a pretty little mouth to be dirtying the title of one you should do nothing but revere."

She swept out of her bow, but remained carefully postured. She did not forget that it was her in shackles, and not this little thing that stared at her. Yes, she may have been tall, but she was not a threat.

"What do you have me here for, woman?"

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Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Annalisa Marin on February 11th, 2014, 5:16 am

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The Elements Sanctum fell dead silent at the horned woman's response, a number of apprentices bore expressions of complete shock on their faces and some of the slaves look horrified. That this woman in shackles and chains would dare to talk so disrespectfully to the Mistress of the Elements Sanctum, one of the most powerful individuals on Sahova was nearly unthinkable. Some of the apprentices drew res near them, prepared to shield themselves from their Mistress' legendary wrath and anger. The clink of chains signaled those nearest to the tall horned woman edging away from her.

The black haired woman gazed up at the woman, looking as though her mood could go either way. Then a sharp barking chuckle bubbled up from her chest, followed by more, which eventually descended into a cackling fit that seemed reminiscent to the Sanctum's previous master, Roknus Maelstrom. The Mad Master of Reimancy. Tears of mirth formed in her eyes, as doubled over and clutched her sides as though the laughter was starting to hurt her sides.

The tall woman slowly recovered and turned her gaze fully upon the shackled and bound woman, an amused and almost predatory smirk adorning her face. Her grey eyes glinted with a chaotic flicker in them, something deeper and more sinister to be found within them. She wiped a tear from her eye, her expression to possessing a bit of levity to it which was a dangerous thing for any that knew her.

"You, you are a funny one slave. Oh I like you, you have fire in you yet and that touch of madness to dare to speak down to someone who would need only think hard enough and could twist your insides out. I think I'm going to enjoy breaking you." She said, res forming as a gas from her eyes as she spoke.

The two thin trails of gaseous res would move up and close to the Ethaefal's face, lightly caressing her cheek in a threatening manner. They didn't enter her body as witnessed with the previous slave instead they moved down to the shackles binding her and started to crackle malevolently. Anna flicked a finger and two small lightning bolts seared into the shackles, making a loud popping sound and teasing at the taller woman's flesh with an amazing amount of heat.

She was free, or so it appeared as purple translucent res pooled around her feet and slithered outwards before seeping into the ground at the tall woman's feet. Anna stomped a foot, signaling attraction to pull upwards with an unheard of amount of strength. The ground beneath the Ethaefal would be pulled right out from under her, like a carpet tripping someone up to make them fall flat on their back. The Sorceress would chuckle slightly, a quick nod of her head being given to the Nuit who led the slaves.

The undead bowed and led the slaves away, moving towards a nearby cave leaving Anna and the Ethaefal as the only two in the center of the Sanctum. The Apprentices seemed to understand just what was about to happen, some forming walls of protective ice or earth before them. Anna cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, stalking out off to the side.

"I speak the name of he who means the world to me, Slave. The title of he who gave me purpose anew, do not presume to educate me on the name of Rhysol. His white eyes met mine slave, you cannot possibly know what that is like." She said, speaking the name of the God of Betrayal so openly, though it carried some devotion when spoken.

"I would normally take a prize as pretty as you to my bed, but I rather think you might make a nice educational aid for my Apprentices. Why are you here slave? You are here to run, and scream, and beg for mercy as I play my games with my magic. Let me demonstrate." Anna said, liquid res rising from her body and rising into the air as a large ball of purple shifting liquid.

This ball ignited, separating as a rain of five firebolts streaked towards the Ethaefal while Anna smirked at the tall woman. She held her arms out wide and laughed cruelly.

"Run! I want to hear the echo of your footfalls in my Sanctum and your heavy breath ripping itself from your lungs!" Anna cried.
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Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Quiarinox on February 12th, 2014, 10:22 pm


It was perhaps wrong of the Ethaefal to feel this way, but a shiver of anticipation and excitement crept along her spine, rather than the fear that this woman should have properly evoked had they been face to face and Quiarinox been a little less proud. She felt, rather than fear once the anticipation had died to a healthy smoulder, dispassion in the face of danger. Perhaps she felt oddly alienated and distant, as if this wasn't real at all, but it had to have been. The shackles had felt heavy and her bruises had felt extremely real. However, even with her dispassion, she greatly disliked the idea that she would be participating in some sort of game. Was that really what she wanted? No.

She flinched at every touch of the res at her skin. It felt like oil stroking over her flesh: slimy and warm. That was disgusting. She hadn't experienced such a thing before, and it was an experience she had to admit that she did not want to have ever again. And then, to contrast that strange sensation, the heat of the lightning ridding her of her shackles gave the sense that she was burning. Again, she had to flinch, and her glare hardened. Did the mortal woman really mean to insult something like her? She had the blessing of a God, the heritage of the moon in her very blood, and she was not to be underestimated nor discarded. To enslave an Ethaefal, let alone her, felt like a crime. A sin. Like smearing the name of Leth and spitting on the moonlight.

"Poor little misguided thing. You know nothing of Rhysol, my patron. You're just a little spark of life for him to toy with as he pleases, unwittingly doing what you do in order to serve him unknowingly." Her disdain was conveyed clearly, to her. Her voice, so clear and throaty, lowered into a growling husk. It could have been seductive, if she weren't so bent on forcing the woman to doubt herself. After all, the girl was obviously mad. Perhaps, Quiarinox felt she could capitalise on that and use it against the thing. This woman was a stranger, though. Could she do anything in a few chimes that she normally spent weeks doing under normal conditions?

"I wonder if you only do this, and collect slaves, because you feel so little in the world and you want to be known for something. Maybe you want acknowledgement. Power. Grandeur. But you're human, and so not much at all." She was playing with fire, and she knew it, yet the Ethaefal was never one to shy away from danger. Wounds healed upon her granite flesh with no imperfection remaining. She could take a burn, if that was what her words earned when she pried at the pride of this stranger. She hadn't paid much attention to the other slaves departing, and it surprised her to find herself alone and unbound in this room of strangers and stone. She snarled and stepped back, affording herself space, and rubbed her wrists belatedly.

"If only one such as you was pretty enough to have me in your bed. This might have turned out differently, if that was the case." Quiarinox seemed adamant to barb as many words as possible before returning them to the mage. She had not gone unknowing at the reverence with which this woman spoke of Rhysol, and while Quiarinox could have commented or even mimicked the tone, she spoke with pride and the strength of cruelty and knowledge. She seriously doubted this human knew, deep down, what it was like to have Rhysol in one's life. Quiarinox knew. She had lived in the God's city. She had prayed to him, had her prayers answered by him, and had watched his will be carried out. It was a dark life, but a comfortable one, and she knew it best. She even doubted this woman knew anything about it, and every word of her reverence poisoned the Ethaefal to feel greater contempt for the woman that held her captive.

She was startled by this new display of power and violence, and she lunged aside to avoid being struck by magic. Her experiences with the craft were considerably lacking, and so she wanted to avoid it, despite being willing to suffer for her impudence. She straightened when she stood still again and sent her most scathing glare at the woman who threatened her.

"I will enjoy skinning you, and hearing you scream for relief. Such a pretty little girl. I wonder if you'll make a pretty little cloak." She had no intention of running. She would not allow the woman to intimidate her. If she had but one weapon on hand, she would make this woman hurt.
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Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Annalisa Marin on February 17th, 2014, 12:35 am

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Anna was amazed at the gall of this creature, even faced with certain death she continued to insult her and speak down to her and it most certainly was irritating the Mistress of the Element Sanctum. Her lip curled into a sneer when she regarded the woman, amused at how she had leapt out of the path of a few mere firebolts. Anna herself could have dismissed a weak attack like that with an errant wave of her hand, further proof that she was the far greater being here. She clenched and unclenched her hands, regain her composure quickly enough as her expression suddenly turned thoughtful.

She drummed her fingers on her chin, creating an air of apprehension about the room as her Apprentices looked unsure. Normally this kind of offense would have been met with a rather severe response, but there was something about this creature that bade her to halt an onslaught. Her words were interesting, they seemed to assume much though regarding her relationship towards the God of Chaos. Anna served him knowingly and willingly, lovingly and longingly as she felt his power upon her.

"You are rather mistaken. Look around you, Sub Human, I live in a place that favors the unliving. I am elevated above those who have walked these halls since before the Valterrian! I've carved a place of power through my own will and the blessing of Rhysol, you are the tool, you are the lesser being, you are the insignificant toy. I have claimed this for him, and will turn it into glorious chaos. What have you done in his service Sub Human filth?" Anna said, snarling the words in anger.

"Though... perhaps you are merely deluded. A fool, but even a fool can be made into something more." Anna said ponderingly.

She spun around, her red robes billowing out around her as she started to pace slowly and deliberately. Her mannerisms were agitated, and her grey eyes held a chaotic flicker within them that could have been attributed to madness. After a long moment her arrogant grin was back and her arms widened, her address to every Apprentice gathered.

"Well you lot, I think we've found a new Apprentice for the Sanctum. Yes, she looks like she'll do quite nicely. She has quite a fire raging inside her, what say we show her the pain of a reimancy initiation. Might shut that little mouth of hers. We'll make a lesson out of her yet." Anna declared.

Murmurs sounded out from the ring of Apprentices, some sounding a little disapproving, some looking rather amused at the thought. Anna would gesture to the a quartet of Apprentices, two humans and two Nuit, pointing to the Ethaefal. They would bow slightly and move to advance upon the taller woman, meanwhile Anna would watch the whole thing with an amused expression on her face. No doubt the tall woman would resist, but such was the way of thing.

"I'd just let them restrain you, m'dear, trust me when I say that will make things... well not painless but more quick." She said, that arrogant smirk returning.
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Dangerous Games (Quiarinox)

Postby Quiarinox on July 25th, 2014, 7:43 am

Never could Quiarinox bow. Through her life, admittedly short as it was, she had not bowed once but to Rhysol... and this woman, this insignificant little rat, was not Rhysol. She was not the Voice. She was not Valdinox nor Lazarin nor anyone else of high standing in the Ethaefal's private perception of the world. If this woman deserved anything, Quiarinox was giving it to her. Every spite-ladened word hardened by the Ethaefal's own suffering was delivered without compassion. Her pride fueled her. She was a god, and this woman would know that in the end.

When done, she stared down at her. A razor sharp smile edged across the pale lips of her mouth, white teeth shown in her sneer. "I have done his work in the world. Beyond the walls of a single city. You, locked in your house of Unlife... there is no value in you or in your work." A breath. A more sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, you've done everything to end up being nothing regardless."

The watching apprentices, regardless of their responses, did not matter to Quiarinox. They were invisible to her, merely background noise and motion that mattered little. This woman was a bright speck of light in the darkness, accursed Syna in graceful Akajia's night. They tittered. She stiffened but refused to look. There was danger here. It sparked in the atmosphere as if a thunderstorm aching to bring the world down. The Storm was coming.

She was taken aback when the woman did not strike her down. To die proclaiming Rhysol to find this woman worthless would have been a perfect way to be extinguished. She was confused. Her knowledge with magic was... lacking. Sorely lacking in this dream-nightmare.

The words were finally understood and by then, cold hands had already been seizing upon marble limbs. Of course, Quiarinox swung out at the first one to touch her. She would not- actually... she would. Self preservation kicked in and she simply stiffened as hands seized her and brought her down to her knees, prostrating herself before this devilish little mage. Quiarinox ached to rise up... her horns were suddenly more than decoration, they were pointed coils of vivid black perched upon her skull ready to impale the mage should she step closer.

Sullenly, Quiarinox slanted her gaze away and waited for... well, she couldn't remember what. Pain, she knew that much. It would help that she'd conserved her energy for this moment. Pain was best taken when at peak efficiency, she'd had to learn once. Now it was expected in the purse of her lips.
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