Chateau de l'epée

[Eschaton Khazid'hea]

One could not really tell when this mansion in the eastern quarter of the dark city had been reoccupied, or what had become of its previous owners, but it was clear by the signs of recent activity around the grounds of the estate that it was under new ownership. At first there were all sorts of wagons that rolled by deposited their goods and moved onwards. For the most part, they were mainly transporting furniture, provisions, and all sorts of textiles and amenities that would make the large building a bit more homely. Then came the guards, clad in black gothic platemail and wielding fearsome polearm weapons, that patrolled the perimeter and guarded the entrances. Most estates of this size had similar security, but the casual observer would certainly never notice that these guards were always on duty and never changed. Sometimes a light could momentarily be seen in one of the numerous windows, perhaps cast by a flickering candle or iron brazier, only to be extinguished and recast its surroundings in shadow.

Surrounding the estate was a wrought iron fence about fifteen feet tall that tapered at the top into spear-head like ends. Along the lower portion, tendrils of copper had been crafted and to shaped resemble several young and intertwining wisteria vines. The main gate was composed of a thicker variant of the metal the made the fence. Four silent and unmoving iron-clad guards stood sentry here, unflinching and unquestioning in their duties. Within the gate itself was an ornately designed circle, thicker around one band with a cruelly curved sword ensconced inside, designed in a silvery colored metal. Past the gates there was a long pathway that wound lazily up towards the mansion itself. At about midway along, the trail branched off, one continuing towards the steps of the house and the other curving towards its side where a less extravegent entrance could be seen. Along the path leading upwards was a fairly well kept garden, sporting rows of flowers that were normally seen in areas further south, well-trimmed hedges, benches for relaxing, a small maze to the far side for amusement, a gazebo for taking sun in and a fountain that drooped water down along its stony sides.

The mansion itself was baroque in design, displaying a type of architechture that was unnecessarily ornate but undeniably enchanting to look at. In several places, towers extended heavenwards, clawing at the gloomy skies. Niches and their companion statues were situated at various intervals and angelic cherubim sculptures played with their hobgoblin counterparts. Some of the widows of the facade were stained into the spectrum of colors while some others were frosted to diffract light in a multitude of directions. At the head of the trail one was greeted by a broad staircase that took them on a short journey upwards. The landing presented them with a massive onyx statue of a blind-folded elven female whose countenance bore a malicious smile and in whose extended arm rested an extremely ornate sword. At the base of the statue was the inscription in two languages:

Dosst kestal, dosst treemma, dosst ssinssrigg, dosst ambition, dosst cha'kohk, dosst zuneerrh, dosst dro. Jal wun l' toha.

Your hope, your fear, your love, your ambition, your curse, your salvation, your life. All in the same.

Past the cryptic statue stood two more guards, who kept watch over the primary entrance to the mansion; two large, heavy-set oaken doors with golden inlets etched and molded to depict some event many eras past that few were likely to remember.

[Zalack Myst]

OoC: I assume i am not going to know about this IC considering times until i investigate it so here goes.

IC: Zalack had been used to travelling around Vortex for sometime now. He had explored its nooks and crannies, wandered the streets and roads without much purpose. He had come across many different buildings and places but on this night a particular one caught his attention.
A large mansion to the east of the city appeared to have a lot of activity surrounding it. There were several guards patrolling, the sort that you didn't want to really socialise with by the looks of them. The whole place seemed to have a lease of new 'life' if there was such a thing in this god forsaken city. Zalack was of course observing the place from a distance, he could see it was obviously a place of great importance and class from the surrounding fences. They looked... what was the word. Expensive. Perhaps someone lurked there who he would like to meet.

Zalack decided it was time to approach. Dressed in black silk robes he seemed to flow with the wind, the fluidity of which was ruined by the clanking sound of metal. He had on a large backpack which had one reason. To ruin his dignity. It carried just about everything he owned including enough armour to make quite a racket when he walked. I wish i hadn't muled all this junk with me all the way to here he thought, starting to walk extremely fast causing the racket to come to a height. Infront of him was a black shorthaired cat, pulling him along with its life filled eyes out front, it had a leather leash attached to it which Zalack was holding very tightly. Damned cat, if that guy at the shop had broke its legs this wouldn't be happening he thought, although he didn't really want that to happen. He approached the gates.

It must have been an odd sight for the guards, a hooded figure making a racket and being dragged by a cat, which was now also hissing at the guards for whatever reason. Zalack really couldn't be bothered with stopping the cat and its hissing, it was just the scratching he was worried about although there was no way in Telath it would pierce the guards platemail. Approaching the guard, he put forth a question,
"Who dwells in this estate?" he asked, jerking his arm back causing the cat to be pulled away for a brief moment. His crimson eyes glowed subtly under his hood as he patiently waited a reply from the guard.

[Eschaton Khazid'hea]

The guard, as could probably be expected from one relegated to such a position, did not immediately respond. Perhaps he was not being paid enough to do so, but then again, in a city such as Vortex one could only expect those who had jobs to carry themselves about their tasks with the gravest of mentalities. Then again, that was the way it always was with guards--Jorel himself could arrive at the gates merely asking for a drink of water and the guard would not even have the presence of mind to tell him to be on his way and to not start trouble.

As the face plate on the sentry's helmet was drawn forward, he could not see the man...or creature behind. After several long and awkward moments of silence Zalack was probably beginning to think the he would never get a response when a voice came from within the latticed steel of the helmet. Resonant, with the unmistakeable elegance of one who always thought two steps ahead, and tinged by a slight Vysstichi accent came the response which was also a question, "Perhaps it is your business, and perhaps it is not. We will decided that when it is known who is asking."

[Zalack Myst]

Zalack patiently waited for a reply, he was in no rush for the moment and so could wait even if it did take as long as it did.
Great, awkward guards he thought as the preculiar reply came from within the helmet of the guard. Clearly he might be marred with slight troubles of having to wait a cycle for a reply but it didn't worry him greatly. He wasn't likely to die within that time of some fatal plague.

He began his reply, he thought about doing it mockingly, slowing his words down to annoy the guard but he wasn't in the mood to annoy someone with that much armour on. He made his reply in an almost monotone voice as if it was somesort of well rehersed ritual,
"The name of the one asking, is Zalack Myst if you please." he said, once again patienly waiting what would undoubtedly be some sort of snail speed reply.

[Eschaton Khazid'hea]

The name sounded familiar to Eschaton, although he could not immediately place a face to the name. He then remembered that a dark elf by the name of Zalack, a duke appointed to him by someone higher up in the house, was supposed to meet him Narim but ran into some trouble with the guards. Undoubtedly it was the ridiculous entrance tax that they made undesirable visitors pay that had incensed his anger, but that was understandable.

Let him through, and one of you lead him towards the entrance, Eschaton mentalated to his sentry. Placing the book he had been reading down, he reclined in his chair as his guest would be arriving shortly.

Back at the gates, the guards remained silent the entire time they spent opening the gates and escorting Zalack up towards the stone staircase at the front of the mansion. Stopping there they waited for him to proceed onwards before turning back towards the gates, the creaking of the joints in the plate armor their only parting noise. At the top landing he was greeted by the morbid jet statue and past that stood two more motionless guards in front of two solid mahogany doors, divided into panels that each bore the depiction of some strange event in copper and gold.

One of the sentries opened the door, which glided open easily although when he could get a better view of it he saw how thick and therefore heavy the door was. Thusly ushered inside the guard said, it was its own grinding voice this time, "Master Khazid'hea expects you in his study, deposit your belongings in the coat room, then proceed onwards where you will take the corridor farthest to the right until its end." As he stepped inside, he would notice he was now in what could be described as a waiting room. Along the walls were a few upholstered benches and an adjoining room bore various shelves, compartments and hooks for storing his belongings. The rooms themselves were light by a singe norman window set above the two doors, although it had not been too noticeable from the outside. Proceeding onwards, he would find himself in a reception hall dominated by the twin curving staircases at the rear that would upwards to the same place. On his level the stairs themselves cradled a large door set in the far wall and a sculpture similar to that outside except the woman held the sword towards her face, as if meditating. A massive skylight set a few dozen feet overhead bathed the rough center of the room in the gray light that dominated Vortex's gloomy atmosphere. If clever, Zalack would notice that thus far, rooms were a dichotomy of an outburst of light or sizeable patches of shadow.

The far right hallway was largely unadorned save for various doors and the large bank of half ground glass windows that ran parallel to them. Soon enough he was presented directly with a door, presumably the entrance to the study. The handle, for it was more of a handle than a knob, of the door needed to either be depressed or raised to gain entrance.

[Zalack Myst]

Zalack assumed he was to follow through the now open gate and proceed forth to the mansion. As he made his way slowly towards the mansion he passed an intruiging statue, he decided he had little time to examine it and walked by it where he was confronted by two more guards who stood by large mahogany doors. Even the doors themselves were interesting with some sort of art form on them, this place was lavishly decorated indeed.

One of the guards opened the door for him, his droning voice announcing information and instructions. He listened and recodnised the name instantly,
Khazid'hea, thats Eschaton. By Jorel what luck! Finally to be able to meet my Baron he thought as he walked through the doors. Inside there were hooks, shelves and benches. He somehow doubted the guards were going to touch his belongings since they didn't appear to need them. He deposited his backpack with a resounding thud. He shrugged his shoulders gladly, he was no longer encumbered with the weight. He almost felt like he could fly now that there was nothing holding him down. He didn't intend to leave his cat along with his pack, the guards looked like the sort that would have it for breakfast.

He walked on into a seeming reception hall, it was oddly quiet as if even his thoughts were a travesty to the gentle silence. This room was overshadowed by two staircases that rose and curved upwards. He walked the right hallway, gently observing his surroundings to find a plausible place where he might find the one who he was looking for. Eventually he came upon it, pushing down or pulling up the handle of the door. Which ever way it succumb to, he would push the door open and enter the room.

[Eschaton Khazid'hea]

The door swung inwards to reveal a fairly spacious but seemingly comfortable room. The rectangular room was highlighted by a large table of similar shape, with room to accommodate at least a dozen, and with various papers, maps and stationary strewn about. To the side of the table was a small podium, presumably to focus the attention of those gathered for whatever reason, even though they were all empty at the moment. On the inner wall was a large, framed map of the known empire cradled between shelves of books, whereas the opposite side was a bank of glass windows, stained in various warm colors to imbue whatever light that filtered through with a soft reddish glow.

At the far end of the room nestled in a couch with booted feet propped onto an accompanying table--there were several such smaller stations also sprinkled about, reclined a dark elven gentleman still youthful in appearance but with hintings of encroaching middle age somewhat apparent. If the impeccable tailoring of his clothing was not enough, the sheen of his well kept ivory locks of hair and the defined cheekbones and jaw made it clear that he was of noble lineage. In the same voice Zalack had heard produced from within the guard at the gate, he spoke without looking up from the book he was reading. "Now, Zalack, something insists that I should at least be acquainted with you, but I find myself simply unable to. Are my suspicions correct? or it is merely a silly fancy of my own fashion?"

[Zalack Myst]

Zalack walked slowly into the room, he was right. Quite lavish, probably one of the nicest places he had come across in his travels. He took but a brief moment to take in detail and then proceeded over to near where Eschaton was reclining.
He stopped walking quite suddenly, sending his robes in a crazed jolt forward. Their momentum carried them gently forwards and backwards, like waves of the sea.

As the figure spoke, Zalack noted his face. Just for future rememberance. Indeed, what he said was true there was some trouble with being able to become aquainted merely through the foolishness of others. The way he spoke, his mere vocabulary gave away a noble air. So very proper, almost unforgiving. Zalack decided to let him hang, leaving a few seconds of utter silence before he decided to air a reply in his own deep voice,
"Indeed, your suspicions appear impecable to me. Perhaps we can right this unfortunate occurance." he said cordially, offering a slick ebony hand to Eschaton. While this had been happening, his cat had found its place. It was sat neatly on the floor, curled up in the way cats do. Making no sound or movement as if it were a corpse. Zalack gave it only a brief glance before turning back to Eschaton, his hand still held out.

[Eschaton Khazid'hea]

He finally looked up from the book that he was reading, to Zalack, and smirked with the serpentine elegance that only a Vysstichi could manage. Setting aside the tome, whose pages were yellowed with age and ready to loose themselves from the binding, Eschaton stood up and slithered towards Zalack to shake his hand, his countenance still bearing the grin. "Well met then Zalack," he took back his hand and bowed his head slightly, "Eschaton Khazid'hea at your service and this would be the study of the Chateau de l'epée, my home." He motioned with his hand to the upholstered chairs behind him, some with accompanying ottomans, "Please have a seat, I noticed that you came with a pack and you must surely be weary."

Instead of joining Zalack in sitting Eschaton glided over to the opposite wall, not too far away, to a small mahogany stand whose surface shone with the brilliance of a recent polish, where several glasses and bottles were borne on the top. "I trust that your journey into the city was a pleasant one. There are strange forces around this city, and even stranger ones inside and underneath," he then changed the subject entirely as he poured himself a drink from one of the blue tinted glass bottles, "You must excuse my rudeness if I cannot offer you a bigger selection of spirits, the economy's slow and it can be hard to get certain necessities, but what would you prefer? Red wine, scotch whiskey, or brandy?"

[Zalack Myst]

OoC: Sorry for the wait, i have an addiction to Knights of the Old Republic

IC: "Indeed i am weary" he said, walking with fluidity over to the chairs and sliding onto one of the more comfortable looking chairs. He moved around a bit to get comfortable and then let his body go limp as he relaxed in the first good seat he had had in a while.

As Eschaton moved, Zalack watched him and patted his own lap. His cat that had found its place obviously found it more comfortable on Zalack's silk robes and bounded over, jumping onto his lap and settling down with a short string of purrs. He then turned his attention back to Eschaton,
"My journey was hospitable except for the lack of company." he said, then listening carefully to the selection of beverages that was to offer,
"Hmm i will go with the red wine thank you" he said, sounding quite pleased. A nice little drink might be what he needed after wandering so long and he looked forward to it.

[Zalack Myst]

OoC: I'm retiring Zalack, so i am finishing all my threads...

"Actually, on second thoughts i cant stay. I have some, business to attend to. Nice meeting you." he said, swiftly rising from his seat. He made his way out and collected his pack. He was quickly gone from the estate. Where he went remained a mystery.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

Ah! There it is...the Chateau de l'epee Faust chuckled grimly as he swept down the lonely avenues of Vortex. His scarlet orbs seemed to flare intermittently, gleaming as he peered through the limited spectrum that only the night could bring. Stagnantly observing the outer shell of his Uncle's most 'non-humble' abode, the dark elf could only register tidbits of information from the concering its' envelopments. Eschaton Khazid'hea's estate was far too prominent and possessed a dominating presence that made it a beacon in the darkness, drawing the glances of all passerbys towards its' magnificence. The young Prince marveled at the intricate compound before him, hardly believing that this could be the facility of anyone other than his very, very very, very supernaturally rich Uncle. He'd known Eschaton to be a wealthy man, more than capable of running his own business, or several business' for that matter. The dark elf too, was interested in touring a similar trade, but in order to do so, he'd need direct funding.

In most circumstances the Vysstichi would have preferred an honest earnings, something of which he'd be accustomed too for countless patterns. However, the mundane professions wouldn't cut it for this particular scenario, especially the occupations involved in ordinary and low salary work. The crowns just weren't there. Henceforth, through a series of events the dark elf had decided to borrow money from his uncle and perhaps invest in his own business. And albeit it wouldn't be an easy task, it was well worth it.

Strolling up to the guardsmen, the Vysstichi flashed the D'Rinishad emblem to signify his relations to the Master of the Chateau. With nothing more than a shrug, Faust abruptly dipped into a low-swept bow and introduced himself, "Serale, sirs. I am Faust, Faust D'Rinishad. My Uncle is aware of my comings as I'm here to pick up a package. Would you possibly be able to deliver it to me at the moment? Unfortunate as it may be, I don't presently have the liberty of time. Thank you." the dark elf smiled and nodded respectfully.

OOC: Permission from Eschaton Khazied'hea (PM for more details)

[Kalinda]

The guard that stood in front of the chateau was a vysstichi just like Eschaton himself, tall and muscular, a prime example of his race. He was dressed in black platemail that had been polished and shimmered in the moonlight. His snow white hair had been tied back so that his elegant features and bright red eyes were fully visible. The only weapon he carried was a halberd.

As the younger vysstichi approached and stated his request, the guard looked him over for a moment. His crimson orbs did not reveal anything of what he was thinking. They remained cool, expressionless. His ebony mouth was closed, not much more than a thin line. At the revelation of the emblem the man arched a snow white eyebrow and nodded slowly.

“Aye, my master is aware of your comings ...” he answered. “The package has already been prepared for you. If you would wait for a moment ...” With that he disappeared into the chateau only to step out of the portal with a small metal box in his hands. “I don’t know what’s inside ...” he admitted. “But I’ve been told that you know ...” He shrugged his shoulders and handed the box to Faust.

[Faust D'Rinishad]

The dark elf smirked enviously as his eyes fell upon the grandiose structure of the Chateau de l'epee. For a moment his concerns with the package were non-existent, leaving the Vysstichi in a state of awe and wonder. The true marvels of Eschaton's estate were dazzling indeed, enough so to make even the richest of nobles drop their eyes in respect. Faust chuckled somewhat at the illustrated sight depicted within the sanctums of his mind. Such a scene woudl prove most humorous indeed. Shrugging away these thoughts with nonchalance, the Vysstichi extended his mailed hands and grasped the metallic box betwixt his clenching fingertips. A widespread grin became of his lips as his heart beated repeatedly. Fortunately Eschaton had received confirmation from his 'nephew' and prepared the package prior to his arrival. The contents within the box, consisting of entirely bank notes amassing to tens of thousands of crowns, would prove most beneficial as the Vysstichi attempted heartily to found his new business.

"Thank you, fellow brother" Faust's head canted as he produced several crowns of his own, handing them over to the Vysstichi guard as a customary gesture. After all, how couldn't he tip his Uncle's hired and loyal men for their spectular service indebted to him. The dark elf sighed, innately wondering if he too would ever receive or aspire to such a position in life. The idea of having others serve under him, to bend to his will and orders without so much as a second thought. Faust shrugged. He wasn't entirely certain that such a future would please him but the thought was entertaining at least. With not much more than a whispered thanks, the Vysstichi Prince scooped up his composure and made way from the Chateau de l'epee, heading directly for the Aedile's Office.

[Darilic T'Kon]

OOC: Serale!! I'm here with a proposition for you Eschaton. If you are not interested in hearing it then by all means just turn me away. I tried to PM you with the idea but your box is full.

IC: Darilic had noticed the mansion in the eastern quater of the city quite some time ago, but had never had the desire to inquire about it until now. Walking up to the massive gates, and the iron-clad guards standing before it, Darilic went over in his mind what he wanted, and how he would present his offer.

Obviously a House as large as this one would have many dark elf guards, but Darilic was not just any dark elf. First and foremost he was a dracon, and secondly, he was taller, and more masive than any dark elf that he had came across in his time in Vortex. Darilic's plan was plain and simple. He was going to try to offer his services to the Lord or Lady of this House in exchange for room, board, and weapons training. He would be starting the basic weapons training soon, which he had paid out of his own pocket, at the Bones Training facility. But he needed a job and this was the best way for him to advance his intrests. As long as the owner of the mansion agreed to the deal.

Reaching the guards Darilic said," Darilic T'Kon to see the Lord of the House. I have an offer that I think he might find tempting."

Darilic looked down upon the guards. It was hard not to. Most races, with the exception of giants, had to look up to Darilic due to his height, and thus Darilic had to look down upon them. Darilic also spread his arms as well to show that he had no weapon on him and none upon his hands. His weapons from the Elegant Blades Shop would not be ready for several more hours and so he had nothing equipped, except his claws and fangs that his dracon form gave him, but they were not part of this guise, and Darilic had no reason to show that he was anything other than what he appered to be.