"With our men keeping a close eyes on her, it's rather bizarre with her choice of direction." Tharan's eyes narrowed upon hearing this. "The east?" His brows furrowed as a myriad of thoughts swirled in his mind before it finally clicked in his mind. "What use does she have with the Lotus?"
The Lotus, a black market ring that he had deemed problematic with their rule however dealing with the issue was far more complicated than it seemed. And with a war on the horizon his plate was already full. "Maybe this could explain the attack on their way here."
He pondered, his figure already in a carriage making his way back to the capital. Any form of negotiation with Jarren was useless to him as it would all result with Caerthalas being nothing more than a vassal state for Redfall similar to the dwarves. "It's a shame that they had to serve those bastards!"
He couldn't help but curse inwardly. Any form of persuasion to the dwarves now would be pointless given the rapid growth of Redfall and with each passing day, even he could only dread with what was to come. But that didn't cloud his judgement with fear to the point of succumbing at the first blow Jarren shot at him.
"Make sure that she doesn't notice them." His sigh final as the envoy dragged on. It was far larger than Jarren's coach to Evermead. 'Don't you think that you were a bit too harsh with Jarren?' The question posed with a close noble replayed in his mind. 'Harsh? It's already a favor for me to hear that bastard of a man out given that he was the one responsible for the death of my parents.'
He answered his own muse, his eyes half open. With Jarren and Callista now running amuck in his kingdom, he knew that a guillotine wrapped around his neck, he didn't need visual cues, the silence back at the meeting was more than enough to suffocate any man. 'Jarren Velros, just what made you the man that you are today?'
From a third generation noble to a monster feared across the lands seemingly overnight, such a scene would make any man pause and wonder. 'It can't be demons either.' The way he moved, not as if an advocate or a pawn but as if he owned the entire game in his hands and a part of him was unsettled with this.
'I'll make sure to wipe that smile off your face.' He swore in his heart, the image of his parents and siblings surfacing in his mind once more. Everyday he had made sure to abandon his ways and be the version fit to rule Caerthalas. It was hard at first but with time, it grew on him like a glove he fancied.
Nobles, the jeweled parasites were a headache. Traces of Crimson long gone cold as if she was no longer on the veil of reality, akin to a dream once studied now a myth. He had a hunch that she too knew the three and with time, he waited to see the truth of his suspicions. His mind went back to Callista.
'For her to be lacking in the meeting would implicate that she sees it as less, running off to some meeting in the wilderness. But what relation could she have with the Lotus?' The more he thought about it, the less sense it made in his mind. He has way too many questions with little answers to work with.
Only a sigh would have to suffice at the moment as he went back to his land of thoughts.
...
A carriage could be seen brush through the mist, it's state alone in the scene odd as it trekked. The horses tugging the reins strangely calm before a manor could be seen come up in the distance. Inside Callista resided, her mind lost in her thoughts about the game to come. Tharan to her was nothing more than an after thought, the real issue she had was Guinevere.
'To have you as a souvenir, I think that it's fitting but a chance should be issued. For my entertainment that is.' She let out a low insidious giggle before the coach came to a halt. The door was opened for her, glancing around the sight of what seemed to be an abandoned manor filled her peripheral .
And yet past the veil she could see more, with a chuckle, she made her way to the door.
*Creak*
The door groaned as if never touched for ages however with a single step, the rotten couches and the infested walls changed to be a vibrant and lively banquet. A faint hum of conversations filling the air laced with laughs here and there. However with her arrival, all the heads turned to face her.
Masks of all kinds shot at her followed with faint whispers. Some spoke of shock, others calculation and others disgust. She didn't mind the banter of the mindless as she gently and gracefully made her way to the main centerpiece of the banquet where a man made his way to her. The air around him easygoing and calm.
A grin remained plastered on his face and yet it felt more like a mask the rest wore. "Miss Callista, I'm quite glad that you could make it." He began gesturing at the party playing in the background. "Of course, after all I do have a weakness for throes." Her tone playful. The man refused to elaborate his name out of choice as he gestured for her to follow him.
The two made their way out of the banquet and into the back stage of the show. The halls were quiet, the silence dreary with babbles for paintings plastered all over. She was the only one without a mask but this didn't bother her. The sounds of their steps marching down could be heard before the man came to the end of the hallway.
Opening the doors for her, he gestured for her to take a step in with which he shut the doors behind her. The room was lavish, servants adorned in collars serving as furniture lay in place, unmoving but her focus was the man seated on the chair. His hands clasped together, his frame laid back in his chair with an inviting smile teetering on his lips.
His face too was masked with a golden and obsidian owl mask reflecting the flickers of torches dancing about at the sides. "You definitely know how to throw parties." She was the first to break the silence, her tone still wearing the facade of warm and playful. "Only the best for my madam." Her brows rose in acknowledgement, a smile flashing on her lips.
I'm pleaded with your sweet lies however I do have to ask my purpose of being here. Other than your apology that is." The man didn't seem bothered, rising to his feet and circling Callista. "I'm sure that you know the state of the world Callista and Caerthalas is only a matter of time before it bites the dust, or is another husk for Redfall." Callista chose to entertain the game he played out.
Her head now supported with her hand, the air around her twisting into something more than the veil of reality was meant to comprehend. "Idle banter." Her words short and curt making the air shift. Once easy now rose stiff and yet she remained unbothered. The man made his way to one of the collared slaves who functioned as a lamp, his arms steady with the torch that glowed.
"Not one of chatter I see." He began, his eyes roaming the slave before grabbing the torch out of his hands. "I'm sure that there should be something of your interest here, or you wouldn't have bothered with my invitation." She let a small laugh escape her lips. "What makes you so sure that I didn't come here out of curiosity. After all with Tharan's hands full with other matters I wanted to see what eludes him."
She knew the pests for nobles that chatted back at the main hall, their true purpose here and she was no different. "Miss Callista, I'm sure that you value loyalty and perceive me as a door for you to acquire it. For free might I add." A bribe she walked into. "What could you have that would interest me?"
The man admired the torch as it flickered on his mask before aiming it at the slave and bore it into the man's chest. The sounds of sizzling flesh could be heard alongside a faint grunt bug never once a cry. Those who watched didn't flinch as if accustomed to the torture. "So what do you say Callista? How about a quick browse?"
He mused turning back to face Callista who had a smile of satisfaction on her face. "I'm not looking for obedience, a little resistance is appreciated." Pleased with his response, the man returned the torch back to makeshift lamp of a slave. "Then follow me. I'm sure that we should have something to tickle your fancy." And with that the two made their way out of his office.
Making their way down the empty well lit halls, Callista bothered to break the silence. "To be all the way out here, isn't it a hassle for me to come out here?" The man merely chuckled, his tone patient. "With Tharan being way too close for comfort, I'm sure that you don't mind the silence. However I'm sure that later on that we could organize something more of your taste."
A low laugh was his response amidst the clashing of heels on the marvel floor. Unlike before this time the two made their way to a door well guarded, their presence stirring the air to be far colder than it needed to be. What lay in front of them was a pair of chairs and a table laid out with drinks. Past that a theatre could be seen.
"Not bad." She posed making her way to the chair. Soft and lavish as expected. Beneath them a multitude of nobles sat, there faces masked well spaced facing the stage where a presenter took the stage. His face masked as well with a jester mask,his clothes a black and white contrast. A snap rang through the air followed with the flow of wine.
Taking a sip, Callista watched the show play out for her. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm quite glad that all of your could make it here." The man began, an earpiece feeding to his mouth. His tone light and eager as he went on. "However today we have a special guest of which I'm sure that all of you are acquainted with." He gestured towards the ceiling of which a glass shade was present.
They didn't need to look to know who it was. "Now, let's begin the audition." The man stepped to his side and the first exhibit was pushed to the stage. A whip of the tarp and the game was visible to the bidders. "Now this as I am sure you all know is a Duskrend panther. Fully tamed with this little charm here meant to function like a pet."
The presenter showed a talisman in his hands, Callista however didn't seem all that thrilled. With the rise of abominations sweeping through wildlife, other beasts were falling into irrelevance. A bid began, slow and steady before the cap was reached of twenty thousand blue shards. From there a myriad of exhibits followed. Some intriguing, others passed down like garbage
"It would seem that Miss isn't all that thrilled with the trinkets put up." The man posed, his tone low glancing at the armor bid on. "It's all so... lackluster." Her voice portraying her apathy contrasting the heater storm of a bid down below. The game being a back and forth before a victor was determined.
"And number 47 wins with fifty gold shards." The presenter posed with enthusiasm. "Don't you have what you promised, or was it a lie?" The man could feel her eagerness, a wry smile flashing on his lips. "It's a matter of time miss. I plead with you to have a bit of patience." His words mirroring Jarren's.
'Very well.' She sighed inwardly, her eyes half open.