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[SeriousConcentrate]

Kingdom of Nod

Pasha awoke with a start. Here he was, again. Somehow it didn't surprise him. He had always thought, in the back of his mind, that he had never left. He knew his father too well. Why would he ever show mercy to anyone? Binding his wrists behind his back, the familiar shackles; around his neck, the collar Dysevik placed on all the slaves. It was currently chained to the ceiling with barely enough slack for him to breathe, let alone get comfortable. His ankles were shackled to the chair he is sitting in with even less room to maneuver than his collar, to keep him from flinching too far away as Angband plied his trade... and to keep him from hurting himself. Lord Marlax would kill Angband if he heard that he'd let this particular prisoner kill himself before he submitted.

And what would it be today, he wondered. Probably not the whip again. He only used that once a week, or thereabouts in Pasha's reckoning, and the welts on his back felt too fresh for that to have rolled around again. Probably not his fists, either. Angband only resorted to hitting him if he got bored of everything else he had available to him, and that was rare. All the same, the muscles along his abdomen and jaw felt sore and swollen. His long hair, what little he could see of it through his left eye since the right was almost shut from the swelling around it, was almost black with filth and grime and clung to his face where the skin had been broken and bled from the man's knuckles. Nothing but the best for his most favored son, he thought bitterly.

He hoped the irons weren't going to be involved today. One of Angband's favorite things to do - or so he gathered from not only his own experience but from seeing him do the same to others in his 'care - was to inflict cuts and then burn them closed. Or sometimes he would just simply build the fires in the room and let Pasha pass out from heat exhaustion. His attention was drawn for taking stock of his situation to the door when he heard a voice - an all too familiar voice - speak.

"Did you have a nice nap, Atrineas? You were mumbling something about a girl-a red head again? Where do you think you are, anyway? Do you see any girls here? This is your reality. Perhaps I will make sure you do not sleep so easy from now on. Your father has asked me if you are ready to ask for his forgiveness. Are you? I mean, even if you are, I might just lie to keep you here. So, what do you say, Atrineas? You were so strong your first day here. Now...not so much... Admit I've broken you...and you can go free. Relatively speaking. Your father misses your services. He very much would like to see you begin them again. Just...tell me what I want to hear. Tell me."

Pasha glared at him as well as he was able, but in this condition the only thing keeping his head raised enough to look at Angband was the iron collar. He simply didn't have the energy to hold his head up on his own.

"Say it, and join us for dinner tonight-we're having fresh basted pork, sweet red wine, buttered corn and sweet greens. Like your Mother used to make. Much better than the bug infested stew they'll give you in here. And a nice warm bed by the hearth. Clean, soft sheets-freshly laundered. And Lord Marlax has assured me you will have your pick of women from his harem for your pleasure...tempting, no? For, the captive women of the last raid are exceedingly...sweet. And pliable. Broken in, I might say. I could recommend several to you. Especially the red headed one."

He continued to glare. His mouth was too dry to speak, but his blood was boiling with anger, as always when listening to the torturer speak. You son of a bitch... He had never really known his mother. She was little to him but a necklace and a few comforting memories from his young childhood, before she had been taken by a lack of food and a particularly harsh winter and he had had to struggle to survive every day. And women? There was only one he wanted, even if it was a foolish notion. But... she had shown him an understanding and compassion few people ever had. In his teenage years, his affairs were merely one-night stands driven by lust; he was handsome and muscular and more intelligent than most farm folk, having taught himself everything he knew from pilfering books, and that drew women to him. In his working years, it had been his status that had brought noblewomen to his bed... but what he had wanted from each relationship he had never received until Dysevik had taken him under his wing. He had found a form of acceptance. And then... in Dalannor... Tala had shown him kindness and acceptance he hadn't known existed, and he loved her for that. She hadn't been swayed by his appearance, or his status, or his money. It was him, the real him, that she had wanted.

Pasha's eye watched the knife as Angband idly spun it between his fingers, the blade catching the glint of the firelight with each revolution. "Atrineas, Atrineas...have you made a decision yet? Lord Marlax kills a dozen of his servants every day you defy him. Those deaths, we both know, are on your head. Let's be honest. The Lord is mad. Insane. We can only but do our best to please him, to minimize his anger...until the day we can get justice. Look at me-I do these horrible things, because I have to. One day he will pay, but until then I must bide my time. I am willing to sacrifice my morals, to get one step closer to him. So, why are you being so selfish? You have done worse than I, and he trusts you more...so, do what he says...and maybe you can get your revenge one day?  That's a good plan...a great plan. Better than dying here alone, in the dark...so, what do you say?"

Bullshit. I don't believe it. Not that Dysevik wouldn't do such a thing on a whim. He knew the man as well as anyone could. He didn't believe it merely because Dysevik himself hadn't told him he would do it. Lord Marlax would want him to think about it every day. I wish he would just shut up... He gathered what moisture there was in his mouth and spit at Angband, but he was too weak and the man too experienced; it fell short as he stepped back. "Get it over with..." he managed, closing his eyes and clenching his jaw as well as he could, waiting for that inevitable first cut.

[Dwarmin]

Angband drew close, the knife moving in close to Pashas face, and then...nothing. The tormentor stepped back, pacing in front of him.

"I'm bored cutting you, Atrineas. I mean-the first weeks, you at least had a witty saying before we started. Now it's all business, no pleasure...I cut and burn and bleed and hit, and you remain strong. I admire your fortitude!"

Angband circles around again on Pasha blind side-he feels the tip of the knife slide over his left ear, drawing a little blood. He always starts with the smallest cuts.

Angband speaks from behind Pasha-an echo of menace. The worse part is not knowing where the next attack will come from.

Nod shrugs, and changes something with a deep throated chuckle. The line between dream and memory blur.

"Have I found the man who can endure anything? Hmm, perhaps. I'm an honest man, I can admit when I'm up against a...worthy adversary. But I've found your weak spot, Atrineas. I know everything."

He feels the hand on his shoulder, and Angband leans into view. He whispers, quietly and with menace.

"You said her name in your sleep. You told me where I could find her."

There is a momentary pause.

"Bring her in." Angband says loudly, calling out to someone outside the torture chamber.

There is a rattle as multiple locks are undone on the splintered oaken door. A faceless guard steps into the room-carrying a limp form in his arms-a woman. Pasha cannot see her face...but that apple red hair...is so familiar.

Angband steps in front of Pasha, blocking his view before he can a get a clean look. His face is uncomfortably close. Pasha can see the mans dingy, corroded teeth and bleeding gums-smell his breath, which always carries the scent of raw meat.

"Atrineas, Atrineas. We've gotten so used to each other, I thought I would bring in someone we could enjoy together.

You know this woman. Her only crime is falling in love with you...a serving girl, though. You could do better.

But, your father has agreed to spare her...if you come back to us. He's even agreed to allow you to keep her to yourself...on a temporary basis, anyway.

I know...you won't kill to please your father. You won't kill to spare yourself torment. You are unable to be corrupted, surely.

But, will you kill to save this woman? Burn down villages in your fathers name? Plant his banner atop heaps of the slain? You did it once...you can do it again. And you can still be with your beloved. Otherwise...I'll let you watch."

Angband taps his knife to Pasha cheek, and steps out of view.

It's Tala on the ground. Of course. She's unconconscious. At Angbands mercy.

"Time to make a decision, Atrineas. Join us, or the woman you love will suffer..."

Nod, the King of Dreams, laughs and laughs.

[SeriousConcentrate]

"I'm bored cutting you, Atrineas. I mean-the first weeks, you at least had a witty saying before we started. Now it's all business, no pleasure...I cut and burn and bleed and hit, and you remain strong. I admire your fortitude!" Pasha grit his teeth as he felt the knife slide around his face. Just cut me, you bastard... we both know I'm never leaving here alive. "Have I found the man who can endure anything? Hmm, perhaps. I'm an honest man, I can admit when I'm up against a...worthy adversary. But I've found your weak spot, Atrineas. I know everything. You said her name in your sleep. You told me where I could find her."

Pasha's good eye opened and he moved his head as much as he was able to glare once more at Angband, who merely ignored him and called for them to bring someone in. All he really saw a glimpse of red hair before the torturer moved to block his view once more. "Atrineas, Atrineas. We've gotten so used to each other, I thought I would bring in someone we could enjoy together. You know this woman. Her only crime is falling in love with you...a serving girl, though. You could do better. But, your father has agreed to spare her...if you come back to us. He's even agreed to allow you to keep her to yourself...on a temporary basis, anyway. I know...you won't kill to please your father. You won't kill to spare yourself torment. You are unable to be corrupted, surely. But, will you kill to save this woman? Burn down villages in your fathers name? Plant his banner atop heaps of the slain? You did it once...you can do it again. And you can still be with your beloved. Otherwise...I'll let you watch." Pasha's eye narrowed in suspicion. He hadn't gotten a good look at the woman, but he was disinclined to believe it was her. He would never betray her, ever. There was no way anyone would have gotten her location from him... until Angband stepped aside and he got a look at her face.

Before, he had been a man without hope for the future, and so he had held no fear for whatever the torturer would do to him; it was all the same, just delaying his inevitable death in the damp granite dungeons of Kothitas. But now he was alive again; fear for her and happiness to see her mixed with rage at Angband, and he threw himself forward against his bindings... but it was no good. He had been weakened by the long captivity and even had he not, the iron was good and strong; he could not have broken free. "You bastards! Let her go, damn you!" He continued to struggle, but was forced to relent as his collar was choking him; he had to sit up straight to breathe. "...take my eyes, my ears, my hands, my life if you want it, but just let her go. She doesn't belong here..." he managed, looking away from everyone. "Anything. Just... don't hurt her."

[Dwarmin]

The Tormentor leans back into Pashas field of vision.

But it's not Angband anymore. It's him, a bit older maybe. Pasha as he could have been-decked in regal finery, wearing his fathers crown-and carrying the Shining Silver Marlax Blade at his side.

The Dark Pashas own face-lined with almost palable evil, smiles. Perhaps this is what he might have become-his dark half.

"You're right, sort of. You don't belong here. Just leave Tala to me. I can take care of her better than you ever could. I'll make her a Queen, at my side-we'll rule the world together... No one will dare hurt her-because I'll burn the world down to keep her safe-sacrifice as many lives as I have to, as many people as I have to kill.

And then she'll love me...forever. Can you protect her like I can? I certainly hope so. For your sake."

The Dark Pasha walks over-picking up a still unconcious Tala in his arms, in a familiar loving gesture-and walks out of the dungeon, leaving the Real Pasha alone in his cell.

There is a snap, as if a cord was just broken.

...

And he wakes up.

No cell-no torment. He's back in the palace, wrapped in his warm cloak.

Just the fireplace, now burnt to smoldering ash, and Talas steady breathing-she looks to have regained some of her color. By the light in the windows, a long night has passed.

Tala is sleeping on her side. She stirs, her eyes fluttering...and closing again, as she curls her body back up, trying to chase sleep.

[Taricus]

((Action's time!))

Send out a spy to get a detailed list of what the people are demanding, and keep them on that duty so that we can see if there are any leaders to this disorder, and any other information that will be of use in calming the populace down..

[Dwarmin]

Franz smiled as Hugo finished.

"You might be an artist, but I must say that you do a brilliant job in running this here facility."

With that Franz left to speak with a Bloody Fist about where he might find some human DN officers, those who had a distaste for Hatcuri DN. He was lucky as a sleazy BF who adressed himself as John knew exactly the place, a no-name tavern outside anybodies interests. He agreed to take him there and show him the officers.

The tavern was located in the ghetto and seemed very run-down, this is definitely outside anybodies interests. John told him to wait outside for five minutes and then come in. John will be sitting in the corner to the right and smoking a long pipe, he will direct to the table that the officers were sitting at.

Five minutes later Franz entered and he was hit by the strong fumes of alcohol and tobacco, very cheap tobacco too. Some big guys were harassing a wench in a corner and a folk tune was being played, nobody seemed to pay attention to the guys harassing the wench. Like John said, he was sitting in the right-hand corner and smoking a long pipe. He was directing at a table inhabited by some men looking like traders and another man in a soldier's jacket. They looked like they were playing some cards and Franz had brought some money so naturally he decided to join in.


Join in on the game and get a good mood going, midway mention that as they are traders, they should know about the rumours going around the city that the majority of Hatcuri in some gang called The Double Noughts want to take over control of the gang and the city. Also find out who the guy in the soldier's jacket is. Let the BF subtly spread rumours that the majority of Hatcuri members in the Double Noughts clan plan a coup.

[4]

You hold your own in the game, coming out slightly ahead...and deliberately letting a few obvious opportunities pass you by, and letting the others win at your expense. The mood of the table improves.

"I've done business with Dubs before. A pretty lousy bunch, but they get what you pay them for...and dependability is something you don't get often in this business..."

"Worse since they let the Lizard into the gangt, I think. You say they want power? Not a surprise."

[2+1]

You subtly suggest what the Lizards willing to do...

"Dubs have lived through worse. Strongest will come or on top, right..."

You seem to have struck a chord. These gentlemen seem to be contemplating your words.

(Double Noughts Destabilization at 10/100))

[2]

A few bloody fists try to spread rumors at your request, but then a few of them are found dead. The message is clear.

[filiusenox]

"Ah, well...consider me at your service, then." Terryn replied, casually ignoring the question about his own origins. "But first, allow me to say that I am glad that I'm not the only one who feels that Polca is...lacking. Our lordship leaves much to be desired, hm? And that guard captain..." He trailed off once more as the wench approached with their drinks, hardly paying her even the slightest bit of attention. Where Oswald's eyes were no doubt on the woman's arse, Terryn had hardly dropped his unwavering gaze from "Sanguine's" own.

Finally, taking a short swig from his drink, he continued. "I mean, they've no tact, really. Ignoring me for two days and threatening to execute me in the same conversation in which they hire me to retrieve your head? Really, I think someone ought to teach them a lesson in...well, running things. Don't you?" He did not miss a beat, casually mentioning the job (though in truth he had been the one to suggest it, not they) as if it were a normal part of conversation. To his right, Ian shifted uncomfortably and Bjorn coughed.

Terryn grinned, and waved a hand idly, "In any case, I think you and I could gain from working together. If the rumors I've heard have any truth to them."

William smile twitches up at the corners.
"Hmm...I was expecting at least a little test trial before they put someone after my head...and yes the city does need some-heh who am I kidding? A lot of work and the Lord does need to be taught a lesson...But of course, I am busy trying to do just that...Except for teach the Lord a lesson. At least for right now. "
William paused for a moment.
"Why do you think I require any help? And I mean no disrespect when I say that. I'm also curious at what sort of rumors you heard, concerning myself...?"

[Dwarmin]

"Why do you think I require any help? And I mean no disrespect when I say that. I'm also curious at what sort of rumors you heard, concerning myself...?"

Chironas leans forward, speaking musingly-with a slightly humorous bent. She enjoys watching the contest of wills between the two men interrupted on her behalf. Her anger has subsided, for now with his gentle nudging.

"Once I heard a rumor that William was a member of a secret society that drinks the blood of kidnapped virgin maidens under the full moon..."

She rubs her chin in mock contemplation.

"Where were you last night, love?"

Chironas smiles, dropping her own hand to Williams knee, tending his knotted muscles with deliberate fondness.

[Dwarmin]

...Tala is sleeping on her side. She stirs, her eyes fluttering...and closing again, as she curls her body back up, trying to chase sleep...

There is a sharp intake of breath. An unsteady rise. Tala seems confused and unfocused at first.

Her first cognizant thought it wonder why Pasha, sitting beside her, looks so pale-is he sick? Next, is how thirsty she is-positively parched! She can only speak in a low voice.

She notices her love sitting in a chair, likely having watched over her all night. Her guardian...

"...Pasha?"

He doesn't answer right then-Tala thinks he might still asleep, so she shrugs, and settles back down.

Tala still feels cold and clammy, and wraps the blanket around her-the dried sweat of her broken fever and nightly tossing and turning leaving her normally well ordered hair a sticky, disordered mess.

[SeriousConcentrate]

Pasha awoke slowly and blearily. He had been more exhausted than he thought. Damn... I guess I had all that on my mind since I told Laythe about it. He though he heard his name being called and looked around, wiping sleep from his eyes with his fingers and a yawn. After a moment to get himself organized, he noticed that Tala's eyes were open as she pulled her blankets tighter to her body. He managed a sleepy morning smile for her. "Good morning, love." He was just happy to see her awake, even if her eyes were slightly shiny with sickness. He was sure water would be something she would want; sick people needed a lot to drink, anyway. He stood and carelessly dropped his cloak onto the chair he had slept in as he went to the door.

Outside the room, one of her - his too now, probably - servants were passing through. "Could you bring me a pitcher of water and a few cups? The lady is awake now and could do with something to drink." The manservant nodded and walked off, and he stepped back into the room and closed the door. "Are you cold?" he asked, indicating her having drawn the blankets closer. "I can... build the fire, or get you another blanket. Anything you want," he said.

[Dwarmin]

She nodded.

"Not cold, just shaky..woozy. Sort of weak. A small fire would be nice...or a big one." Tala smiled, a weak attempt at humor.

Yet, she was still more concerned about him than herself. She could tell by his pale demeanor and the way his eyes had trouble meeting her own, that there was something on his mind-then again, Tala knew he had most likely neglected his own needs in favor of hers. He might be more exhausted than she was.

Tala coughed a few times, clearing her throat.

"Are you alright yourself, Pasha? You probably forgot about yourself, worrying your head off over me..."

[SeriousConcentrate]

"Sure, I'll get right on it," he said, going over to the fireplace and kneeling in front of it to toss some wood in and make sure it was burning well. While he was doing that, she coughed a few times before speaking, and he looked over his shoulder. "Are you alright yourself, Pasha? You probably forgot about yourself, worrying your head off over me..." "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a few nightmares. I'll get over - son of a bitch!" He grit his teeth and drew his hand back, shaking it. He hadn't quite burnt himself but his fingertips were red from their near-contact with the flames.

He chuckled to himself with a wince as he inspected them. "Sorry about that. Just silly old Pasha, not paying attention again." It didn't even really hurt, not compared to some of the things he'd been through. It had just caught him off-guard, and at a time when Angband was still fresh in his memory. "I'll be all right. A servant should be bringing you something to drink soon." Satisfied that the fire would do all right without any further trouble from him, Pasha made his way over to Tala and sat on the edge of the bed, using his good hand to smooth her hair back.

"It sounds like there's some unrest in the city. I don't know what it's about." He hadn't bothered to find out; all he knew was from what he had overheard while waiting for the doctor, and it wasn't a lot. "Many people are getting sick, but the doctor said that you don't have the same symptoms, and you should be out and about pretty soon. As long as you get plenty of rest and such." He looked at her. "I don't want you exerting yourself too much either. Anything you need, you can tell me, and I'll get it for you."

[Dwarmin]

Tala nodded. She had given thought to it the day before...the Queen was in a dangerous position right now...but, that was no concern of hers. Queens and Kings came and went, and the only thing that mattered was that both of them rode out the storm.

She winced when Pasha almost burned himself. Something must have been bothering him, to distract him so...

He crossed the room and sat aside her, smoothing her hair with one his palm.

"I don't want you exerting yourself too much either. Anything you need, you can tell me, and I'll get it for you."

She ran her slim hand on the underside of Pashas chin, grinning.

"Enough. I am fine now, and you have worried about me long enough, my love. You will surely drive me mad with all this concern over my well being...also, thank you. For everything. For watching over me. For making sure I was safe. For loving me."

Tala had liked to imagine herself as an independent woman...but the truth was, when she-for example, fell off a horse-she was comforted by the thought Pasha would be here for her. Him neglecting his own needs on Talas behalf made her feel depressed, though. She didn't want him to bear the weight of the both of them.

Still, she relaxed as he said. The servant brought a pitcher of water for the both them. She took a fair sized drink, smacking her lips melodramatically-enjoying the look on Pashas, his warm smile. The worry and care on his face was wearing away as she gained her strength back-it was like watching rain come to a long parched land.

"Thank you. Maybe we could get something from the palace kitchens? I feel like fresh fruit...breakfast in bed...something sweet..."

She leaned back against his chest-the servant dropped a letter to the bedside, he had been witholding for her. She looked at it distractedly. Read it. A summons?

"Tell her majesty I will attend."

He left, bowing politely. Thinking but not saying-assuming the Queen still is the Queen by weeks end.

Tala motioned to the window-the weather had finally cleared. The morning sunlight was streaming through it.

"It seemed like the clouds were never going to part..."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To Queen Laythe...

Laythe Messenger bowed low.

"My Queen. The Lady Alanis is regaining her strength after the accident. She will be able to attend the meeting...it seems her condition will improve."

[filiusenox]

"Once I heard a rumor that William was a member of a secret society that drinks the blood of kidnapped virgin maidens under the full moon..."

"Where were you last night, love?"

William glanced at Chironas, breaking his eye contact with Terryn. He would have made a joke, but really didn't feel like it.

"You know where I was last night, considering you were with me at the time, Love."

[SeriousConcentrate]

Pasha nodded. "Sorry. You probably don't need me hovering around all the time like a chicken with her egg. I'm... not sure what I should do." He'd never had anyone to actually care for or about before, and he was probably getting it wrong by being so worried about getting it wrong. "You don't have to thank me. For anything. I'm just..." He toyed with her hand for a moment, trying to work up the nerve to drop his walls and leave himself vulnerable. "...just happy to not be alone anymore." He squeezed her hand lightly, then released it. She suggested something from the kitchen and he nodded again, getting to his feet. "OK. I'll get us some breakfast. Maybe we'll luck out and I can find some apples or oranges for you. I'll be right back."

He left the room and headed down to the kitchen. So, Laythe called a meeting. Probably something to do with whatever is going on in town. I wonder if I should go or not. She might not be comfortable having me there. On the other hand, I guess I'm a part of Ligoria now. The thought was a little scary. He didn't want to tie himself down anywhere, and yet having a home - a place to belong, to come back to and rest, away from the troubles of the world - was oddly satisfying. I have to stop thinking like that. I'm going to end up a nervous wreck if I keep thinking of settling down as being locked away. It's not the same. The cook was busy roasting a pig for breakfast, and didn't notice Pasha slip from shadow to shadow and nab a trio of oranges, an apple, a plum, two clusters of grapes, a few strips of bacon and sausage that had finished cooking, and a serving tray.

He brought it back to the room and set it on the bed next to Tala, taking a sausage for himself and pouring a glass of water. "I was thinking... this summons from Laythe. I'm not sure if I should go or not." Tala had been there, after all. She would know the source of his unease. "It's for the nobility, right? I'm not one yet, but I suppose I will be, so... I guess it's your decision. Do you want me to go with you, or should I stay here and take care of the estate?"