#cedrick holt

(( This post occurs on the night February 8th. In response to; http://adhelin.tumblr.com/post/170658830383/ue-prepared ))

“Castellan, you might want to come see this...”

Ceruszael turned away from the window in Adhelin’s townhouse room, wasting little time in seeing what it was the Lionsguard had found. By this point the men and women milling about gave him a wide berth. They were unable to gauge the Ebon Knight’s mood but all were unwilling to risk his anger flaring toward them. As such, he swiftly arrived behind the man which made the call - startling him in the process. He plucked the offered letter, plucking it open and pulling out the contents to peer at.

AHR  ZNTBNGNE  AHRZ  UQCD  QWE  AHR  CLQMM  JN  IQBE QTTHZEBWXMA  HWTN  ULN  ENNE  BC   EHWN.

B  LQGN  IFU  ULN THBWQXN  BW  Q  LHMMHP CUFVI  ZHFXLMA  Q LFWEZNE  AQZEC CHFUL  OZHV  Xhmeclbzn  WNKU  UH  Q  MQZXN, MHWN  ZHTD.

QOUNZ AHR  LQGN  ZNTBNGNE  AHRZ  IQAVNWU;  THVN UH  VN QXQBW QU Zqgnwclbzn  OHZ  AHRZ WDKU  UQCX.

The jumbled lettering made little sense to him, though he recognized a coded message when he saw one. Though nonsensical, it didn’t carry the harrowing mental tone of the Old Gods or any language he knew.

A task for another.

Ceruszael knelt beside the corpse from which the letter had been acquired. Cause of death was fairly obvious, what with the hole in the man’s skull. The disturbing angle of his feet further spoke to compromised ankles, to some degree. Ceruszael raised a hand to hover just above the man’s face. Spectral energies ignited runic inscriptions about his armor, the lichfire in his eyes flaring as the Death Knight invoked darker magics to attempt to draw upon a spirit so freshly removed from its body. To glean from it the truth of this man’s passing. Again his perception shifted to those aspects relevant only to those departed from the realm of the living.

Fear. That was expected. Uncertainty for what was to come, and panic as a mortal mind contemplated the worst possible outcomes imparted by… Holt? Lord Holt? The name was present, but not directly connected to the feelings. It simply followed them. But it was concrete, assured, confident. No, it wasn’t the name. Another feeling. It did not war with the dismay or turmoil, but existed beside them. As surely as this man felt them, he felt this, but they were as disconnected to each other as the name to it all. An image formed. It shifted constantly, shivered. From the man’s perspective. As he moved… but he couldn’t move. He is lying down. Being dragged? From where is uncertain. He sees another, a short distance away. The air around him shimmers and wavers. A portal? Yes, it was. Two figures carried a third through. Perspective shifted as pain spiked. He now looked down his own body, down his legs. That is where the pain came from. Movement, from above. Perspective shifted again. A hole blocking out the sky, and before true comprehension, it spat fire and everything fell away.

At this point the Castellan’s attention was drawn away from the scene as Thaylynn’s voice broke across Holt communications.

“Lords and Ladies, Bannermen, Knights and Soldiers of House Holt, this is Lord Marshal Thaylynn Kestavin…..it is with a heavy, and weathered heart that I confirm the reports our Matriarch has been taken. Given the recent situations that have come to pass within our House, I am hereby deputizing one hundred of my soldiers and knights, to bolster our security, and safeguard our areas of interest, and members of the family. Do not be alarmed at their presence. This is no power play, it is simply a matter of security. If you have questions, you know how to best reach me.”

Ceruszael furrowed his brow as he rose. The introduction of a hundred new men posed nearly as many dangers as assets. At this juncture he had to give Thaylynn a degree of trust, but if the ranks of Addlewood’s Lionsguard had been breached, it was just as likely Kestavin men were also compromised. Whether or not such was true, Holt soldiers would already be peering over their shoulders and sticking to groups of known friends among their garrisons once news of this potential infiltrator sect became known. It would be far easier for them to place blame on another house’s soldiers, no matter the loyalty of their Lord. He turned to the Lionsguard who had discovered the body.

“Nobody hears of this. Cover the body, bring it to Addlewood. Stand guard over it. None gain access but myself. Any who would inhibit you in this, invoke my name. If anyone sees you in this endeavor, they are to conscripted into it and await me just as you will. Go.”

After receiving a curt nod and salute from the man, the Knights moves far enough away to observe the collection of the body, out of earshot, shrouded in the moonlight-cast shadows of Stormwind. Thinking for a moment, he opened the communicator.

“Cedrick. Cordelia. Tiom. We should meet to discuss recent events and formulate a plan of action. Cedrick, I would advise leaving Blackfyre with Venreena. Cordelia, I’ve dispatched a contingent of Addlewood men to find you. Reinforce them with Embris personnel if you must, but allow them to see you to Addlewood. Tiom, make your way there if able. I will be there tomorrow evening.”

((The following conversation took place on the eve of February 10th in Addlewood. Forgive any formatting errors, as this is a cleaned up log of in-game chat.))

Ceruszael inclines his head toward Cordelia and Cedrick as they arrive. The room he'd appropriated was spares, a single desk pushed against a wall with a few papers strewn across it. Two chairs, clearly unused, were shoved against the opposite wall. "Thank you both for being prompt."

Cordeliea entwines gloved digits together at the base of her abdomen, as was per her customary stance.  Cordially, she dips her head in greeting and offered another toward the cousin juxtaposed to her right.

Cedriçk looked between the two. His features were rather stern and he offered nothing more than a nod to them both.

Ceruszael takes a step forward, hands moving to clasp behind his back. "I'll be blunt. As you both know by now, and if not you should, Adhelin has been abducted from her townhouse in Stormwind. A group of no less than four carried out the act. No traces of magic were left behind, and everything suggests someone besides our mutually acquainted warlock as the perpetrator." He reaches toward the desk, plucking an opened envelope from it and holding it out to Cedrick. "A body was discovered not far from the house. Ankles broken, shot through the head. This was on his person."

Cedriçk accepted the note after strolling forward. He looked down at the parchment and studied its contents, "When do you need it by?" the nobleman asked.

Cordeliea dips her head in a solemn nod. "I pressured one of the guards to tell me what was transpiring; he was reluctant to say, but told me in hopes it would placate my curiosity." Her attention momentarily drifts toward the envelope Ceruszael handed to Cedrick. "Other than this letter, have we heard anything about her current state?"

Ceruszael's eyes flared brighter for a fleeting moment. "As soon as it can be deciphered. Time, I needn't remind you, is of the essence." He looked toward Cordelia. "Those who abducted her escaped via portal, not far from where the body was found. It was one of the last things he saw before being shot. I've yet been unable to track down Sarahni to investigate and see if she can trace its destination." He reached again to the desk, this time pulling free a piece of paper. The note upon it was brief, and bore the sigil of House Von Gacy. "Percival, formerly of the City Guard, now a Von Gacy, before that Dewdancer, and when first I met him Aldenhardt. His disdain for us is not unknown. Yet, he offers aid." He held this letter toward Cordelia. "Lord Marshal Kestavin, appointed just prior to Adhelin's abduction, has seen fit to task a portion of his House's forces with the protection of Addlewood and its occupants. This is either a legitimate act of concern, or in contradiction to his claim a play for control and he is complicit in her abduction." At this, the Castellan paused. "You two, along with Kaidren and Tiom, represent the core power behind the Holt name. We need a plan."

Cordeliea accepted the letter with a newly unentwined hand; gloved thumb drifts along the parchment whilst her other hand gripped the opposite corner. "My husband wrote and said he would sent men to assist in our protection. If more are needed, I am to send word...and he said that if we would like, myself and my siblings can go to Ebonbrooke. As far as we are aware, no one outside of myself and perhaps a few others know of its immediate location."

Cedriçk snorted to himself, "A plan for what? Without any knowledge on.. well.. anything.. what -can- we plan?" the Duke sighed as he looked over the note once more, "While it is not the Intelligence's job to run after nobles... I can certainly pull strings. Gain the aid of a few operatives. In more ways than one." He then waved the note about a bit, "..we can observe the scene, unless it has been tampered with?"

Cordeliea's face scrunched with Ceruszael's assumption about the Lord Marshall.  "I understand our House has been at the center of many tragedies... but I don't believe the Lord Marshall has any discontent and merely wishes to help protect us."

Ceruszael looks to Cedrick, though points to Cordelia. "Perhaps not a plan, but we need to agree on certain aspects. That is one of them. I have no problem, voicing darker thoughts that, however unlikely, may be possible." He then shakes his head. "Her chambers have not been tampered with to me knowledge, beyond the removal of one dead guard and two injured men. All wounds inflicted were with knives. Two thrown, one to cut the dead man's throat. I have the throwing knives here, along with the corpse of the man found shot in the street. You're welcome to inspect them." He glances toward the table for a moment. "As for Ebonbrooke, it may be a good idea. It may not. A plan coordinated in this manner implies strategic thinking and execution. Perhaps they anticipate consolidation and more guards. Perhaps they anticipate fleeing to little known strongholds." He shrugs, again looking to the pair. "I'm open to suggestions, but that leads to my final point. Who is to make the final decision on these matters, until Adhelin's return?"

[Cedriçk]: Well, where is our beloved Head of House? Hiding away and mourning the kidnapping of his sister?

Cedriçk shrugs.

Cordeliea's lips part with the expulsion of a heavy sigh. "Should it truly be one person or a vote amongst us? As one person, would our judgment not be clouded or biased, depending on the matter of discussion? At least with a vote, we would have others to help make a decision with a clear mind."

[Cedriçk]: A vote amongst us will only lead to disagreement, as we have seen with Rinoha, whom has taken it upon herself to withdraw. I must agree with the Castellan. One individual to make the decisions, with the guidance of the rest.

Ceruszael shrugs in response to Cedrick's query. "I don't know, but neither can we waste time digging him out of whatever hole he's found himself in." He then looks to Cordelia. "A group will not always be able to be called together. When decisions need to be made swiftly and decisively, one needs the authority to act without worrying about being overruled." An inclination of the head toward Cedrick. "I haven't been able to contact Tiom or Kaidren as of yet. So it falls to us. You two, as family. Myself, appointed by your blood."

[Cordeliea]: Since we were unable to contact them and draw their concern, let it fall to the three of us.  I will trust the two of you to mobilize the forces and execute tactics because I haven't been properly schooled in the matter.  I've some knowledge, but I am not a soldier.

Cedriçk looked between the two once more. He offered a shrug, "If you feel you can make the right decisions, by all means. But I will not be told how to do my work. That being said.." he trailed off, "..I will do my own work and leave you both to the rest."

[Ceruszael]: If that is the case, Cordelia will be consulted on family matters and the conducting of a noble house's business. I am properly versed in neither. I will call on you for insights into subterfuge and intelligence. I ask only reports back on what either of you find, and will provide the same. So we are all well informed.

Cedriçk nodded, "Excellent."

[Cedriçk]: Might I ask for the body to be delivered to the Intelligence headquarters within the next day? Along with the various weapons.

[Ceruszael]: It will be done. The man who discovered it, along with those who have seen it in the process of it being brought here are with it. I ordered its discovery not be spread, as he wore our colors. I suspected, if infiltration became known among the Lionsguard, suspicion toward the influx of Kestavin soldiers would cause infighting. Do with them what you will.

Ceruszael cants his head to the side. "What of Von Gacy's offer? Do we involve him?"

Cedriçk sighed quietly, "For the time being... I say no. They have helped us many times, and each time it has ended not so well for them, leaving he and his on bad terms with us.

[Cedriçk]: If i'm being honest, I think it is more of a headache than any assistance.

Ceruszael nods slowly. "His reaching out is an opportunity to mend relations, to a point, however. I think we reject his offer, but advise him of the dangers we've seen thus far in general terms. We cite a need to organize and stabilize as the reason for rejection."

[Cedriçk]: While that is true, the man seems to have a short fuse. One that does not mesh well with that of our own.

[Ceruszael]: I'll take the brunt of it if his anger flares. If the response comes from me, perhaps his anger will not wholly set upon the Holt name.

[Cedriçk]: If you feel we should accept, I am not against it. I simply believe that we should have caution.

[Ceruszael]: I agree with rejecting the offer, for now. But advise sharing a measure of information we've gathered surrounding the act. Not who was taken, nor full details, but enough that he doesn't feel scorned by a family he already has disdain for.

Cedriçk nods.

[Cedriçk]: Very well then. Have you anything else for me?

Ceruszael shakes his head. "Let me know when you've decoded that message. I'll have the weapons and body sent your way promptly."

[Cedriçk]: Until then.

[Ceruszael]: Suffer well. Shadows keep.

Holt & Thorne Lyric Graphic Series — 2 of ?

Lord Cedrick Holt

Addlewood was rife with activity. Patrols along its walls, along the grounds, within its estates, and in the surrounding regions kept watch on everything from day to day activities to travelers simply moving through the region. Watchposts had been established along every entrance into Duskwood, with others along the Nazferiti River at its easier fordings. Groups of men marched along the roads between Darkshire, Raven Hill, Addlewood, and the various farmsteads in the region. Their paths and patrol intervals shifted day to day, dictated by Ceruszael himself. Occasionally he changed the schedule midday, further complicating the task of predicting and so outmaneuvering the Holts. Such endeavors were difficult to maintain. Some men went a day or more without sleep as a result of the ever shifting demands on patrol teams or guard duties. None had the benefit of regular camaraderie to vent their frustration, as the Castellan ensured the same group was not posted together for more than two shifts back to back.

The intricacy and attention required to orchestrate this level of organized chaos would have required a well drilled command echelon, all agreed to a shared goal and clear on their levels of authority. Ceruszael operated alone. Without the need for food, drink, or rest, he labored tirelessly. At the back of his mind he wondered just how long he could maintain it all. Contrary to the impassive mask he often wore, the Castellan’s patience was not limitless. He was not without anger, disappointment, or frustration. Nor was he unaware of the passing of time, despite its ineffectiveness on his physical form. Meeting after meeting with petty officers. Redundant questionings of the same events from different sources to validate loyalty. Restraint from the ever present desire to reduce all these soldiers around him to empty husks of flesh and bone, all sense of betrayal lost when their souls were reduced to fuel and their bodies tethered to his will.

No.

Darker thoughts manifested amidst turmoil. He was no stranger to it. Some day, perhaps, he would no longer be able to resist them. But not today. Today, discipline held. Resolve to act, trusting against instinct that order maintained and others set to task would be the better solution in the long run. Outriders dispatched to the Swamp of Sorrows would inform him of activity in the region close to its border with Deadwind Pass. Outposts along the border with Westfall would advise him about the nature of the uprisings and discontent there. Patrols and watchmen would flag down any suspicious activity within Holt lands, halting further sabotage or betrayal.

They have to.

The escalation had been prompted by a minor victory.

Could it even be considered one?

A saboteur had been located. In an attempt to plant explosives, he had been accosted and imprisoned below Addlewood. A captive. The first captive. Word had swiftly been sent to Thaylynn, Cedrick, and Warden Morrowbranch. The latter’s claimed ties to SI:7 had been confirmed enough for Ceruszael to uphold his end of the agreement to grant her audience with the prisoner. As the four probed the man for answers, he appeared forthcoming. No torture had been required to pry loose replies. That was cause for suspicion alone. The Castellan first asked question he already knew the answers to. Information the Warden had given him, or had been gleaned in the investigations into Adhelin’s kidnapping and Thaylynn’s and Cedrick’s possible betrayal. No reply came that was unexpected, and much he suspected to be true was verified.

Then came questions he needed answers to. Matters he knew nothing of. Picking through ideological ridicule and barbed taunts was irksome. Ceruszael girded himself against such remarks, not allowing himself to be drawn into philosophical or political debates. He kept his questions short and concise. His features, stony and unmoving. Not all were as focused. Thaylynn and Elyza both offered quips of their own. Threats. Insults. It eventually got to the former, driving the Lord Marshal to strike their prisoner and set about the next chain of events. Poison, robbing the captive of life. A return, promised by Ceruszael, his soul disallowed release and tethered once more to his body. A contingency triggered. Holy Light, weaponized and triggered by death denied, seeking harm upon the Castellan and casting doubt that the saboteur’s capture was anything but intended by their enemies.

Ceruszael would not be denied, however. Shielded from the blast, he had proceeded to bind the man’s soul. No body was necessary to get the answers he required. After all, the Castellan had promised him that the liberty of death would be granted only if he was satisfied after questioning. From this they acquired locations of several cells from which the Empire operated and confirmed its presence in the Swamp of Sorrows. He then bound the soul to his runeblade, for it was freshly deceased and could yet withstand much suffering. When the spirit lost all cohesion, he would rend it apart and reduce it to fuel for dark magics. Until then, it would stave off the eternal hunger which plagued the Scourge’s legacy.

He had spoken briefly to the Warden thereafter. She planned an assault on a former fortress of the Empire’s in the Swamp. The Castellan committed no forces, though he had some in mind suited to the task. She intended to weaken defenses. Expose the throat. Two of the Knights-Abyssal had already expressed desire to act as more than guards and observers. He would gather them. But first, the homefront needed to be secured. And so Ceruszael threw himself into the task. He now stood atop the gatehouse leading into Addlewood, cold gaze flickering about to take in that which he had wrought. For a long time he stood on the principle that those dead who yet walked Azeroth had no place dictating the paths of the living. Recent events showed him, however, that left to be driven by pettiness or misplaced anger many would seek to consume themselves. In such cases, perhaps those who truly knew the value of life were only those who had since lost it.