Date: November 7, 1998
Place: Hallway - Atesh-Gah - Haven
Cast: Altair, Arslan, Jihaad, Larissa, Rabi, Vesir
Scene: A Hound has come to arrest the Nayaka of the Xerxes Clan, Vesir, for kidnapping an Empyrean female. But the Hound's justice is curtailed by Varati justice; and it is the Pasha himself, Arslan Messala, who punishes the errant Nayaka for his deeds.

Hallway - Atesh-Gah - Haven:
      Following the same design as the rest of Atesh-Gah, the long hallway is done in shades of polished white, delicate gold, and ethereal sky-blue. Here and there doors dot the otherwise unblemished magnificence of the simple design; each one leading to the room of some important personage in Atesh-Gah's roster. A long flight of stairs at the beginning of the hall leads down to the Foyer, though a balcony at the landing atop the climb allows for a magnificent view of the courtyard.

Jihaad frowns at Vesir, "You will be going with this Hound."

The door to a suite opens up, Larissa and Vesir walking out of the room. He turns to shut the door, then pauses when he spots the Empyrean and the Agni-Haidar. He murmurs, "Kneel pet, we have guests."

The lark-shaped wings of the blind girl rustle softly as she silently sinks down on her knees, hands clasped behind her back, a back that is straightened enough to make her chest thrust out. Classic slave pose, though she can't help but move her head just a little. Listening. A shadow of a frown floats across her features.

Jihaad folds his arms over his chest. He eyes Vesir with loathing, "Imphadi Altair, do your duty."

Vesir looks at Jihaad and murmurs, "Why should I go with this Hound?" He doesn't even bother to look at Altair, standing comfortably relaxed with Larissa kneeling beside him.

Altair looks to Larissa, ready to just take her up and hold her tight. But there is business to attend to. "Larissa, stand up." He gives it like he were Vesir. He then looks to Vesir. "I am formally placing you under arrest, Vesir, Nayaka of Xerxes. The charge is kidnapping with special circumstances. We have the warrant from Archon Cepheus and permission from Pasha Arslan. You are now in the Hounds' custody, pending trial."

Jihaad rumbles deeply, "The will of the Pasha is why you will go."

Vesir laughs, "Kidnapping?" he looks down at Larissa, "Pet, do you stay with me of your own free will? Would I not let you go if you wished?"

Jihaad roars deeply, "You go now or die where you stand!"

There's not even a shiver in reaction to the Hound's words, as the girl just continues to kneel in silence... until Vesir's voice comes forth, whereupon she leans her head back to show her face to him. Smiling, the platinum ringlets shudder with her nod, "I stay with you because I want to, Master, and you would, Master."

Vesir snaps his attention to Jihaad, "You should not tempt me, Agni-Haidar. You cannot best me. Do not try my patience. These claims are foundless. Come at me, and I kill you." his voice smooth, cold, daring.

Altair shakes his head. He gets ready to speak, but Jihaad beats him to the punch. Pain, like a knife in the heart as he hears and sees Larissa.

Jihaad rumbles his reply, "I have the Pasha's authority to take you by force if need be."

"May I speak in your defense, Master?" Worry echoes through her voice in a reflection of the now-obvious frown between the girl's white, marble eyes.

Vesir grins at Jihaad, "Then Arslan must want you dead." He pauses, saying only, "You may speak, my pet."

Altair looks to Larissa, shaking his head. "Larissa, you're going home. To your mother and Ilario. "

Jihaad cuts the girl off abruptly, "The Pasha has given his orders. You will do as he orders. I do not fear death, cur." His tone is even.

"Sires, I wish to stay with my Master. I love him, I have not been kidnapped. He's a good man, can't you see that? I understand that..." A short pause, the frown deepens, "that my relatives are worried, but that is because they do not know Master. And even if they did, they would be unable to see the truth. I'm an adult, I can take my own decisions." And then the frown is completely wiped away by her smile, "Also, I'm going to have his child." Then she halts, as Jihaad speaks.

Vesir narrows his eyes at Jihaad, reaching back to draw his blade. "Then come at me, boy," he says to Jihaad, "Test yourself and your blood against the Nayaka of Xerxes." the resolve steadies and grows stronger in his eyes at Larissa's last words.

Jihaad draws his blade, his eyes hard. "I have the will of Atar behind me!"

Altair just about faints! He shakes his head. "This cannot be possible!" He looks to Larissa, such anger in his eyes that he thought he would never feel again. He looks at Vesir, reaching to draw his own blade. "Jihaad, I want him. He's to be my kill."

Vesir chuckles, "Atar can rise from death, you cannot." He stands ready, with his blade. "Stand, step four steps directly behind you, reach forward, shut and lock the door, pet."

How she wishes now, how she prays she could see. But the whites of her eyes move around helplessly as the little Empyrean rises from her position, steps back, finds the door and opens it. As she backs inside, a frightened whimper manages to cut its way through her mouth, and then the door shuts. A second later, the lock gives off a faint clicking.

Jihaad sneers deeply, "Your words do not frighten me" His blade spins around deftly, but does not strike out.

Vesir merely smiles--he does have a reputation after all. "Which one will it be? Agni-Haidar, or Hound, or do you both fear me to the point where you must come at me two to one?"

Jihaad steps up, blade held firmly in one hand, "I fear none." He rumbles deeply, "Let us dance."

Altair looks to Vesir, his father's blade before him. "You will be brought to justice, or die by our hands."

Vesir looks directly at Jihaad, "You, recognize a warriors right to die by battle, if it is to be battle, then stand back, or do you lack the honor to allow one on one conflict, Agni-Haidar."

"I already know the Empyrean does not." Vesir adds.

Jihaad motions Altair back, "I need no help, Imphadi Altair."

Altair looks to Jihaad, managing a moment of sanity from his anger. He backs away, nodding to him.

Vesir chuckles, looking at Jihaad, "Come then boy, show me what you have."

Jihaad strikes out, his blade swinging upward at an angle, seeking out Vesir's chest

Rabi pushes through the solid wooden doors of the Seraskier's quarters and emerges out into the hallway.

Jihaad lunges at Vesir. The Nayaka of Xerxes has earned his reputation, it seems. He brings up his blade and with the almost subtle ring of metal on metal, Vesir guides Jihaad's blade into the wall. As it chunks into the stone, Vesir spins and his blade slips between armor and cloth, cutting Jihaad across the middle, dropping the Agni-Haidar to an unconscious, bleeding heap.

The door to the Seraskier's suite, so accustomed to slamming open from the fury of its master's passing, opens meekly. Rabi steps out, completely unaware of the battle taking place outside. Her eyes fly open and she gasps, freezing in place. The portal shuts behind her with a gentle sound.

Arslan has arrived.

Vesir turns, shaking his head at Jihaad's form. He slashes the air once with a flick of his wrist, the Agni Haidar's blood sluicing off his blade to splatter on the ground. The Nayaka of Xerxes glances at Altair, "Run. I will kill you."

At those words, the Pasha of Haven enters the hall, followed as always by his two bodyguards. The words bring a ring of steel from Arslan and his guards, as blades are drawn. "Peace will be kept in my city, Nayaka! Drop your blade or die."

If she had the ability to blend in with the wall and thusly disappear, Rabi would do it. As such she does not, and so she simply shrinks back until she can go no further, arms wrapped around her belly.

Altair looks up to Vesir, his father's blade drawn against the Nayaka. Looking behind to Arslan, he sheathes his blade.

Vesir chuckles as he hears the multiple sounds of steel being drawn. "Even you, Warlord, are afraid of me to the point that you would not face me alone? I had thought higher of you than that. The Agni-Haidar attacked me."

A soft creak comes from the massive door to Vesir's suite, as if a certain someone was leaning heavily against it... listening.

Arslan slowly stalks down the corridor. "On my writ, Nayaka. You have abducted a citizen of the Empyre within the walls of the peaceful city, and for that you shall answer. For resisting his arrest and possibly slaying one of the Agni-Haidar, you shall die. Be it a quick or slow death shall be decided by you. Now, drop your blade."

Watching Altair sheath his blade, Vesir turns to the side so he can watch either side of him at the same time, his back to the wall. "If I will die then I will die as a warrior, in combat. Do you dare create war with Xerxes and her allies by attacking me in numbers, or do you fear me to refuse my challenge, Arslan."

Arslan chuckles softly. "I am Pasha of Haven, and the laws are mine, Nayaka. You have broken them, and I decree you hold no right of challenge for your dishonor. Xerxes shall not be brought to war by a single fool, and there shall be no need for Messala to crush Ishmael's clan because his Nayaka has no honor." The Pasha turns to one side, blade held before him. "You will die, Nayaka. Since you wish to resist your fate, I shall make it as painful as I may."

Vesir laughs, "Messala is pathetic, and has already created war between the Empyreans and the Varati, and now you show how weak a leader you are. To fear a single man. Are you so righteous you believe the dishonorable slaying of the Nayaka of Xerxes elite will be unanswered. You are wrong. Come then Arslan, test your blade against me."

Arslan chuckles softly. "The war is Khalid's, not mine, and you are a fool for thinking otherwise. Yes, come Nayaka. Meet your death, for Khalid smiles upon the Lion of the North."

Altair walks down to Jihaad's body, trying to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. He shakes his head, taking out a handkerchief in his attempts to stop the bleeding. "Someone send for a healer, Please? And hurry!" He finds a someone, motioning him closer and whispering to him. The man runs out and heads for the Citadel.

Vesir smiles slightly, "I'm sure it does, until he hears about this." His blade is already out, waiting.

A turn of the wrist, and then the Pasha's blade leaps with dizzying speed towards the Nayaka's gut.

Rabi's fingers curl into fists and her gaze darts back to the doorway of her Imphadi's suite. She looks back to be caught up in the dance of metal and men, large forms turning and light leaving sharp trails in the hallway's dimness; for several heartbeats she can look nowhere else. And then she sees the Empyrean bending over Jihaad. She only peripherally understands what the man is saying; she edges along the wall, arms wrapped around her belly and turned slightly to the side, and finally gets far enough around the battle that she can kneel at Jihaad's side. Faisal will be angry with me, she thinks. An Agni-Haidar accepts his fate and he will be angry that I endanger Jaimizal, but... But she cannot do otherwise. She lowers herself awkwardly and sure hands move over the fallen warrior's clothing and armor, determining the damage.

And though it comes at him with dizzying speed, Vesir is just as fast, he twists to the side, blade snapping out like lightning in his hands and the clash of metal on metal resounds through Atesh-Gah. Vesir chuckles, "You are good." And then in riposte, he uses the force of Arslan's attack to power his own swing, slashing with the tip of his blade for Arslan's face.

And an upswing of Arslan's blade catches the Nayaka's before it can score. "I never lose, Nayaka." Arslan's sword twists around Vesir's even as his body whirls about. Standing more to Vesir's side than his blade, the Pasha flicks a quick blade slice at Vesir's face.

Seeing the duel engaged, Arslan's bodyguards stand back, but not down. One notices the fallen Agni-Haidar tended for by an Empyrean and sheathes his blade, dropping beside the fallen form just as Rabi reaches Jihaad's side as well.

Rabi looks up at the soldier and glances over at Altair. She is obviously unsettled by the presence of one of the ancient enemy, although the importance of caring for the fallen warrior is far more important to her now than her own fear.

Altair looks to Rabi, his face frozen like ice. He's drowning all his emotions, like a true warrior, to stay at his task. "Imphada, can you help him? Please?" He remains, trying to quell the bleeding, this Varati he considers a friend dying before him....

The door to the Seraskier's quarters opens again, the gentleness of its motion heralding the arrival of another woman. An old woman, whose eyes fly open at the whirl of violence and at the presence of the Imphada on the other side of it. "Rabi!" Aba's voice is thick with horror. Rabi looks back and her hands weave through a set of gestures: Go - back - healer - quickly.

Aba is only too happy to oblige. The door thumps shut as she withdraws, scurrying as quickly as her aged bones can take her through the servants' entrance in the back, off to find a healer.

It's not a parry this time, but Vesir jerks his head back, the blade only lightly scoring along his cheek, but still opening it up to the bone. The right side of his face will not be pretty, if he is victorious. He rounds about hard through, and while Arslan's sword is busy trailing his crimson blood prettily, he slashes at the same time, cutting for Arslan's wrist.

Arslan's arm is quick, and a twist pulls it away from the Nayaka's sword. Not fast enough, as a trickle of crimson comes from his upper arm, but the cut is not nearly as deep as the one scored upon Vesir, and the Pasha battles on. With a quick side step, Arslan repositions himself once more, with the blade simultaneously flickering quickly and forcefully downwards toward Vesir's gut.

The Seraskier's first woman does not appear overly concerned with the state of Jihaad's wounds. The Agni-Haidar are tough; since he did not die outright, he will surely last at least another hour. Plenty of time. Rabi removes her outer veil and balls it up, pressing the fine and fragile silk to the wound to staunch the flow of blood. Her face is just barely visible behind the ghostly dark inner veil, just a series of gentle and round shapes.

With a twist a and a grunt, Vesir moves to the side, slamming his blade into Arslan's to stop the plunge into his stomach. He spins around, sparks trailing his blade from the clash of steel on steel as the two Varati battle it out, and Vesir's blade slashes fast and quick to try and cut Arslan's leg's out from under him.

Altair nods as he looks to Rabi, something of a smile making it through the steel he's walled around himself inside. "Thank you, Imphada. I would not wish to lose as good a friend as Imphadi Jihaad." He also holds his handkerchief to the wound, the both probably adding 15-30 minutes for the healer.

Rabi flinches at the ring of sound and the bright guttering sparks. Her shoulders bow as she tries to hunker down more.

The Pasha avoids the Nayaka's blade with a backwards leap, well over the height of Vesir's slash. Further away now from Vesir, the Messala Warlord uses the slight extra reach granted by his impressive height to thrust again at the Nayaka, toward Vesir's weapon arm.

Another clash of steel on steel, but the blades don't bind enough. As the tip of Arslan's sword cuts into his arm, he clenches his jaw, blood streaming down his face from the prior cut, but a flick of his wrist, with the blades like this, Vesir's sword goes for a similar wound as he pulls back.

Rabi glances at Altair again. Now that she has done what she can and is simply waiting, with the soldier and...and this Empyrean... for the healer to arrive, she has the luxury of feeling terrified. Her eyes are rings of copper-flecked gold around cores like the heart of night and they are wide. There is no time for rational thought, caught as she is between the winged enemy and the ferocious battle of two consummate Varati warriors.

The sturdy door to Vesir's suite creaks again, as the pressure of the body leaning against it from the inside first disappears and then returns.

Arslan doesn't even bother avoiding Vesir's strike, though fate and the twisting for the Pasha's next attack make the Nayaka's blade cut only a shallow wound along Arslan's shoulder. The Pasha's blade, inside Vesir's defenses, lashes downwards at the Nayaka's chest even as Arslan dances a few steps back to extract himself from the reach of the Nayaka's blade.

Altair looks back to Jihaad, still holding the wound tightly closed. "Hang in there, Jihaad. You'll be all right," he says, not knowing if Jihaad can even hear him.

And the tall black-skinned Varati, the Nayaka of Xerxes, dances backwards as well, his shirt getting sliced open but missing the skin. Just barely. Vesir chuckles, taking his blade into a more traditional two-handed grip, feinting high then whipping that blade about in a wicked downward sweep as he steps forwards to close the distance, blade screaming through the air towards Arslan's thigh.

Only to stop with a deafening clang of metal upon metal. Messala-forged steel stops the Nayaka's blade in mid-flight, though the Pasha strains slightly to do so. Before Vesir's balance can be regained from the parry, Arslan whips his lighter blade upwards towards the Nayaka's chin.

Rabi, apparently, stepped out of her home and into Hell. Her fingers clutch at the silk she presses into Jihaad's belly and images rise up before her eyes. She has heard the clash of metal before and she has smelled blood before although in much larger quantities. Now memory brings back the scent of fire, too, and the sound of loved ones gurgling down to death. She shudders and her eyes are graced with silver; one pearl races down her cheek to disappear behind her veil, then another.

Vesir jerks his head to the side, the blade narrowly missing his face yet again. He spins around once more, but instead of slashing, thrusts under his right arm, his blade spearing directly for Arslan's stomach, a glistening point of steel death.

The Pasha twists aside, so the Nayaka's blade changes from lethal to merely damaging. The length of steel sinks through the Pasha's side, slashing nothing more vital than flesh and muscle, but slicing a great deal of that as it sinks in. Arslan grits his teeth, ignoring the wound, and brings his blade downwards, two-handed, at Vesir's shoulder even as the Nayaka's blade remains embedded in his body.

Vesir rips his blade out of Arslan's side, causing even more damage with the powerful move. He drops to one knee, bringing his blade up to block the massive downward slash. *Cla-SCRASH* And the Nayaka's blade explodes into thousands of shards of steel, the Pasha's blade cutting deeply into his shoulder, down across his chest, and out above his hip. Without a sound, Vesir drops the shattered hilt of his blade, reaching down to hold his stomach closed, knees sliding apart as he slumps, blood veritably flowing like a river before him.

Arslan releases his blade with his left hand, holding it against his torn side. The Pasha stares down at the Nayaka, laying the tip of his blade against Vesir's throat. "You will not be allowed to die, Nayaka. Not this way." As the Pasha speaks, the healer summoned for Jihaad finally arrives. Arslan waves his bloody blade towards the healer. "See that the Xerxes Nayaka lives before you tend to the Agni-Haidar, for the warrior shall survive a while yet, and I need this traitor alive." The Pasha wipes his blade contemptuously on Vesir's unwounded shoulder, then sheathes it. "An example will be made of you, Nayaka. Varati shall see what comes of those that defy Khalid's will."

Rabi flinches as a shard skims above her left eye, opening up a line of red. Another fragment skates up her right hand and remains, stuck, in the flesh of her forearm.

Altair shields himself from the flying steel, also taking a few bits. He grimaces a little, then looks back at the dying Vesir with eyes of ice.

Vesir kneels there, slowly reaching down to try and hold himself in. A single word, escapes his lips, "Pet." And he coughs, blood flecking his lips, then dribbling out his mouth and running down his chin. With a sickening wet thud, Vesir crumples to the floor, eyes closing.

The door to Vesir's suite swings open.. Her wings drape listlessly down to stroke over the floor, and step by step the blind girl walks towards the pool of red surrounding the Nayaka. Lark's nose almost twitches, the tip of her left sandal becoming stained. A pause, the sweet crystal of her voice cracked, "Master?" Another step, blood coming up to stain her right foot.

Even her blood trickles down in delicate, wispy lines. Rabi finds herself in the way of the healer come to do Arslan's bidding and so she rises. For a moment or two she hovers between healer, enemy, and the gory body in the hallway. Then quick steps take her around the fallen Nayaka: she approaches Arslan. Whether this is a safer course of action than remaining by the Empyrean remains to be seen.

The healer rushes over towards Vesir's fallen body after closing up Jihaad's as best he can. He bends down, kneeling in the pool of blood, then looks up at Arslan, "It is too late, he is dead. Even if he wasn't, my skills are not capable of closing this."

And then her legs crumble as the last step makes her foot touch his body... More blood splatters up to her thighs as Larissa kneels, white hands fluttering like the birds she carries her name after. Her voice is calm, though the crystal shatters even further as her heart knows what her mind refuses. "Master?"

Arslan turns his eyes toward Rabi. "Imphada, I am sorry you had to see this and endure pains yourself because of the Nayaka's treachery." The Pasha motions towards the healer and Jihaad. "Tend for the Agni-Haidar, then, and once you have finished, see to the cuts of the Imphada here, as well as the honored Hound." Still holding his leaking side with one hand, the Pasha looks towards his suite. "Should there be dire need of me, I shall be in my quarters."

Sweet Lady of Dawn, another one? Rabi just stares. Then she pulls herself together. Clearly this is the 'citizen' of whom Arslan had spoken. No matter. Her hand reaches out to gesture towards the bleeding wound at the Pasha's side.

Altair looks up to Larissa, shaking his head. Vesir dead, he knows not what to think. He does what his heart tells him to do--he reaches out a hand to Larissa, standing at last while the Healer tends to Jihaad's wounds. "Larissa..." he says in a weak voice.

The two guards start to fall in behind the Pasha, and pause when Arslan turns at Rabi's gesture. "I shall have my wound looked to, worry not, Imphada. It takes a deeper blow than this to slay the Lion of the North." Arslan looks towards the guard that knelt beside Jihaad. "Take the Nayaka's body and stake it, laying the broken sword with him. Vesir Xerxes will have no honorable burial. He was a traitor to Khalid." The other guard receives different orders. "You shall see after the Empyreans, escorting them both safely home if need be. Let no harm come to them from any source while they remain in Haven. My city shall remain peaceful while I yet breathe." These commands given, Arslan turns once again towards his suite.

Underneath Larissa's touch, Vesir's body is already cooling, the rather sickeningly sweet scent of someone's inner workings mixed with blood filling the air as in death, Vesir's hands move and the great wound opens up.

Rabi bows her head to Arslan, causing a new tracery across her cheek as the motion draws the blood around to trace the orbit of her eye. She straightens and turns, silently observing the tableau.

She knows this smell. Rabi trembles.

How like a Varati warrior, how like a man. Arslan opens the door to his suite and leaves the mess in the hallway behind him, for others to clean.

"Master... Oh no, Master.." Blood stains her, the bronzed skin turned ashy pale, lips as white as the marble of her eyes. Larissa's hands go up to his face at last, the great slash over the cheek not bothering her any more than the stench of his opened stomach. "You didn't even tell me what you wanted me to name our child, Master?"

Rabi's eyes widen. It is too much for her. She flees, pushing wide the twin wooden doors hiding the interior of the Seraskier's suite, and disappearing within.

Arslan enters the Messala Suite.

And the little Empyrean girl lowers her head to rest it on Vesir's chest, her wings coming up from the drying blood with the sound of many feathers also loosening, yet she doesn't care. Milk-white wings, twenty-five feet of them, cover the dead Nayaka and his Pet.

FIN  

[ Home | News | Staff | Players | Links | Gallery | Logs | Library | Updates | Mail ]
[ Connect to the Game ]