Rastislav
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Arc 8 Chapter XXII: Vampirum Visitation
🕑 Added 2024-10-31 20:23:42 +0000 UTC"Would you care for some drinks before we begin?" Hassildor begins as we sit down, a mask of perfect politeness replacing his previous expression "I'd hate to be a poor host."
"If you please." I incline my head slightly, much to Alor's alarmed surprise.
Lady Vagyar covers her mouth and lets out a particularly fake sounding titter "You need to educate your servants in keeping their composure, Lord Dagoth. Many would see such a reaction as weakness."
"Oh please." I lean back and roll my eyes, pointedly not incinerating the little chit who thought to 'teach' me "You may need such posturing to keep yourself above others but I have no care for it."
"Not a care?" She raises an eyebrow as her husband fails to so much as twitch in reaction to the conversation "Or do you simply not care for the opinion of a bunch of 'lowly' vampires such as ourselves?"
I cup my chin and let out a light hum, pretending to consider her question before shrugging my shoulders theatrically "Tell me, Lady Vagyar who has not had the decency to introduce herself fully" She smiles "Did you feel a sudden pain in your right hand some two days ago, just around the early evening let's say?"
She was no longer smiling.
In fact, both she and her husband suddenly turned very tense as they finally deigned to straighten in their seats, their predatory gazes narrowing as they started actually considering me for the first time since I entered what I guessed was Hassildor's domain.
A rather misguided way of conducting negotiations but they were old farts masquerading as young looking people and were probably far too used to handwaving most issues away without a care.
The silver haired man in the back other other hand... he merely raised an eyebrow, shrugged his shoulders, and kept pouring the drinks with the patient precision only an immortal could possess.
"A rather curious statement, young Reyvin." Hassildor speaks up as the duo refuse to utter a word, still futilely attempting to dissect my thoughts with their stares "I do wonder how you would come to such a conclusion however."
His tone was perfectly polite, not a hint of emotion to be heard.
Leaning in on the table with a predatory grin which could easily match my hosts, I met his eyes "Oh, I just happened to cut a bitch at that exact moment. Nothing too extraordinary."
The obvious leader of the trio remains silent as he finishes pouring and brings us the drinks "An old Colovian vintage, aged for three hundred years on my personal vineyards."
I take a light sniff of the wine before following it up with a sip, it was delightfully sweet "Not something I usually partake of but a Mer can only drink so much mead before he starts craving some sweetness in his drink every now and then."
Not that mead was bad per se, just not my favorite. That particular position was reserved to dark bitter ales at least as far as alcoholic drinks went, one needed to take but a glance to know what my true favorite drink was.
"Knew it would suit your palettes" Hassildor grins lightly as I take a split second too long to respond, Alor finally taking a sip and nodding appreciatively as he did.
The vampire pauses a moment before asking "Would you care to trade us some information about the event?"
"Trade it for what exactly?" I raise an eyebrow.
"My good will of course." The old Count smiles amiably, his offer admittedly not completely worthless "And our own version of events accompanied by some order secrets you would no doubt appreciate."
"Janus." Lord Vagyar narrows his eyes at his peer "Sharing order secrets is not permitted without unanimous agreement."
"Calm yourself Mateus." Hassildor pointedly names the man who immediately scowls "I will not share anything critical with our guest, merely something worth an elaboration of recent events." He turns to me "That is if you are amicable to such a trade, of course."
"Eh, sure." I shrug "Not like you could use the information I have in any way that could harm me." Even Alor perks up as he was not completely privy to what happened in the cathedral.
"Excellent." Hassildor smiles "I will begin, as the one to propose the trade. The Vampirum Order is an ancient fixture of Cyrodiil as you know."
I nod.
"And throughout our prestigious history." He says with a note of sarcasm "Many of our Elders and Ancients have sought a way to free ourselves from our... patron's influences." He scowls slightly "Of course such a thing came with many drawbacks and sacrifices but after hundreds of years of research we uncovered a ritual which permits a weakening and eventual breaking of our Daedric bond."
"Interesting." I lean in, my wine going completely ignored "Most interesting in fact."
"I am glad you think so." He nods along "Imagine our surprise when two days ago a very large number of our blood progeny began howling in immense pain, clutching at their right hands and screaming their throats out as if someone had just placed a sanctified searing poker into their very bone marrow."
"Yes." Mateus Vagyar sneers "Watching my great granddaughter squirming on the ground and not being sure if she would live was quite... surprising." He barely manages to keep the frothing fury out of his mouth while his wife looks away, no doubt to hide her own rage.
"A terrible event to be sure." Hassildor notes with no hint of emotion, much to his peer's instant consternation "So you see, young Reyvin, we would be quite appreciative if you could enlighten us as to what happened."
I stare at the trio for a long while, the tension in the room rising with each and every second as they instinctually leaned in to hear my words. Naturally I decided to completely ruin said tension by deadpanning "I cut Molag's hand in half."
Lady Vagyar instinctually hisses, Mateus recoils, and Hassildor frowns and crosses his fingers in front of his mouth, staring at me almost as if he was trying to see what exactly made me tick.
Finally, after a full minute of regaining their composure, Janus spoke "I trust that that is all we will be getting from you?" There was no threat nor demand in his voice, merely acceptance.
"Quite." I hum "You can deduce much from only that and I see no reason to share any more." I immediately look at the Vagyars "Don't go too hard on your peer for the information he offered, without it I wouldn't have even bothered telling you this much."
"Of course." Mateus Vagyar nods reluctantly "It is good to know that what happened was not a... intentional attack."
"It wasn't even an attack." I immediately correct him before he gets the idea he can ask for some form of restitution or something equally insulting "It was but the aftershocks of a battle far beyond your ken."
"It would seem we have strayed a bit too far from our intended topic." Hassildor immediately preempts his fellow's reactions by cutting in "I believe we were here to discuss the state of Skingrad and partake of some respectable company, not make enemies?" He gives both myself and Alor a look before turning to his friends.
"Fine." Lady Vagyar scowls, her husband nodding along hesitantly.
"Very well." I accept the shift in topic easily enough "Tell me what you know of the city."
"Before I do so, what are your goals for the city itself?" Hassildor asks.
I stare at him for a moment before simply listing off "Find out what is happening, deal with problems, restore order, restore prosperity, prepare for great war."
"I see." He hums "I obviously find no issue with such plans so allow me to elucidate you. About eight months ago, a certain Ancient of our order had reached beyond his station, using his connections to Bravil to begin making demands of the Volkihar in the north, a clan under your protection now I believe?"
"They are valued allies now that Harkon is dead." I nod "And speaking of Bravil, I trust your order has no further influence over the good Count?"
"It was a mere exchange of favors, I assure you." He raises a hand placatingly "In any case, as I was saying the Ancient, one Aloncius of a house unknown even to this day, had reached far beyond his station, the ensuing censure by the order sending him fleeing into the already restless city of Skingrad."
"I find it odd that you would allow your beloved city to fall so low if you could see the ruin coming." I point out dryly.
"I had hoped the Empire would do its job and fix things but then they were forced to deal with a rebellion and a literal apocalypse." He responds just a dryly and goes on without letting me retort "The city of Skingrad was thoroughly pillaged during the great war, the Thalmor forces outright enslaving numerous residents to build their fortifications while nearly starving the rest to death."
"This is also where I met your father." He smirks lightly "Vyren and the rest of the Blades were of great help in raiding Altmer supplies across the entire western front, I do not doubt for a moment we managed to stop a whole army from interfering in the final battle." He looks up to the ceiling as he reminisces "The absolute bullshit that was that elf's Magicka control makes me shudder in fear to this day."
I couldn't help but smirk smugly at this, immediately falling into the obvious information trap.
Respectable.
With a newfound glint of amusement in his eyes, Hassildor goes on "In any case, most of the population survived the war, by sheer virtue of the concordat itself ensuring their freedom."
His gaze darkens "What did not survive in the least was their prosperity. Homes were destroyed, businesses ruined, connections and agreements broken, and to top it all off the same Count who surrendered the city in the first place and then spent a small age in a Thalmor prison returned to his previous post as if he had never left."
"I am guessing Count Ferontius is not greatly loved by his people?" I ask somewhat rhetorically. This situation was eerily similar to Marcus Caro and even Ulfric before him... The Thalmor knew how to stir shit up I will give them that much.
"Not in the least." Hassildor notes darkly "So much so that a certain populist movement has been on the rise for the past few months. We were as of yet unable to find out the leader but what we do know is that they are being aided by Ancient Aloncius, an unidentified cult of some sort, and the Thalmor themselves through numerous proxies."
"A populist uprising." I mutter and then shrug "At least they are innovative."
"You seem...." Lady Vagyar interjects "Almost fine with the idea?"
"I have nothing against the concept of a people ruling themselves." I shrug easily enough "I merely doubt any of them possess the capability to create a lasting system without all the faults of the current one and none of its benefits."
"I see." The ancient aristocrat woman raises her nose in mild disgust.
Alor on the other hand merely gives me a sideways glance, knowing damn well that I spoke more from laziness than any actual form of approval.
He was far too respectful to outright say it of course but knowing me for as long as he did he knew I'd identify the gaze non the less.
Hassildor clears his throat to get us back on track, and I take the opportunity to ask "And just how turbulent do you expect the state of the city to be?"
"Very." He states plainly "I would not be surprised if we were mere days away from open rebellion followed by what I can only hope is a limited amount of lynching for anyone even vaguely involved with Ferrontius' regime."
"You know what they say." I shrug lackadaisically "A defenestration a day keeps the corruption at bay."
All three of the vampires and my own vassal give me deadpan looks at that.
"But yes, we can't let the people take justice into their own hands." I roll my eyes "That would just be asking for an uprising every second month."
"It is good you understand the weight of the situation." Hassildor sounded almost relieved as he said that.
"I do tend to possess reason and understanding." I grin "Hidden behind a mountain of my own personal brand of enlightened with, of course." Before any of them can react to the obvious bait however my whole demeanor shifts and an invisible weight descends upon the underground chamber.
"Now that we have established what is happening." I speak clearly and without a hint of my previous laxity "What is it that you want out of this deal."
Hassildor grits his teeth as he feels the Magicka around him begin to buzz in a certain pattern he knew to be rather deadly to undead "My city." He grits out simply.
Oho? He appeared to be far, far more pissed about Skingrad's current state than he led me to believe.
Mateus Vagyar quickly cut in "The order has been facing issues with our current sources of wealth, the sea trade has been drained heavily in the last few decades." He completely ignores my aura more out of practiced grit than anything "We possess personnel with educations far surpassing the mortals currently ruling the city and merely ask for the revenues usually owed to the reigning nobility to be paid to Ancient Hassildor while he acts as Count."
My aura intensifies and all three of them look close to retaliating due to simple self preservation. Instead however they wait for the full minute I stare them down, not so much as twitching as I finally spoke "50 years, you will owe your full loyalty to Titus and Minthara after she is crowned, you will not gorge on the population nor will you enthrall the undeserving." I lean in a bit more, my voice now tinged with the river of magic flowing through me "Are. We. Clear?"
Hassildor takes in an unnecessary breath "Crystal."
The aura disappears as if it were never there as I grin and clap my hands "Capital!" I look to my vassal, completely ignoring the bewildered vampires "Alor, you will be leading this mission."
"M-my lord?" He stutters in surprise.
"I have been looking for a reason to promote you." I chuckle "Kindly do not disappoint me."
The poor Falmer looked just about ready to have a panic attack.
"Oh, and Hassildor." I turn to the vampire who perks up "Do take an hour or three to pay me a visit, I am curious as to what else my father did that was yet to be revealed to me."
He allows himself a light grin "It would be my genuine pleasure."
The Vagyars say nothing, more than content with what they got out of all this and not willing to deal with me ever again.
Probably.
