Talavar Steelhearth

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

Arouse -  agitate, awaken, electrify, enliven, excite, entice, foment, goad, incite, inflame, instigate, kindle, provoke, rally, rouse, spark, stimulate, stir, thrill, waken, warm, whet, attract, charm, coax, fire up, fuel, heat up, lure, produce, stir up, tantalize, tease, tempt, thrum, torment, wind up, work up

Beyond this, consider how these professions might vary depending on who the customers are - nobles, or lower class. Are they good at their job or just scraping by? Do they work with lots of other people or on their own? City or village?

For younger characters:

Apprentice to any of the above

Messenger/runner

Page/squire

Pickpocket

Shop assistant

Student

Looks after younger siblings

She gifted me the title Mistress of war.. Right there in front of everyone though the night should of honored both Lily and my champion.. I could no longer hide it for after all it was his blood that helped me gain such a title. Mistress of war, all because I created an arena that pleased the Marquise and Lord but gave others purpose. Sure others may come for his title but I will mold him into a weapon.. Care for him… Treat a weapon right and it will serve you well.. Allow it to grow dull and the moment of battle watch as it declines your safety.

The fighters of the pit would be known as the brotherhood because that is exactly what it was.. Men and women that shared their blood not only in the pit but in battle if the service requires it. It is a brotherhood of those who passed every task thrown at them and showed their truth strength. The evening was different after the meeting. Distance between me and my champion and still I did not know what we were…

Lovers… Just two beings that enjoyed a good fuck… My celebration for the night was to be held in his arms and nothing more.. For him to understand that he meant more to me but as always our words found us confused.. Without him none of this would be possible.. I strayed from Talavar and accomplished my goals on my own with my champion by my side and if anyone of the house were displeased with my actions.. Allow them to show just how displeased they were in the pit.

The sun will rise and training will begin starting off with a brawl between myself and the lord Amon. A glorious battle it will be. To learn more about him in such a way I never thought would be possible but it would show just what I plan to make our fighters become…

Mistress of war…. This is a title I will need to get used to..

The Pit of Bloodcrown 

(PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS A STORYLINE WITHIN THE BLOODCROWN GUILD.)

About: The Pit of Blood is a colosseum found on the Bloodcrown isles. It is used to hold monthly brawling matches to bring men and women to the brink of death allowing them to over come their fears. Hosted by Sallyris de’Lacrua she provides an exotic entertainment in honor of Marquise Sybil North and Lord Amon. The days that there are no events it is used as a training ground for the brotherhood to keep up their fighting skills and also prepare them for any future attacks on the isle or for battle outside the arena.

The Brotherhood: The brotherhood are those pit fighters of the Bloodcrown isle. It is a bond between man and women who have spilled each other’s blood and gone through an intense training that shows enough skill to be fitting to enter the colosseum. After weeks of training recruits must face off with those of the brotherhood in order to become a member. These fights are done with weapons and shields with absolutely no armor. The Mistress will call off when she feels the recruit has displayed enough skill to be apart of the brotherhood.

Victory can be achieved by: knocking the opponent off the platform, forcing the opponent to submit or if the fighters are viewed evenly matched. Those that lose will be sent back into the pit where the lord and Marquise will be present to allow the defeated to receive punishment.

For more details or to be apart of guild please make sure you view of rules of the guild @housebloodcrown and seek Sallyris out icly! The storyline will have gore and triggers so if you have a weak stomach then please steer clear.

The Pit to the public

(Days that the pit is open to the public will be publicly announced.) 

The Pit to the public: The pit to the public is a pvp / roll fight event that is held each month. Those in pvp gear will be within their own arena and must register to partake in event. The player you register with must be the one you use on the day of event. Those that roll fight will also be asked to register. Those in pvp gear must pitch in 200g and those roll fights 100g. These donations will either be used for prizes or the chest prize in next event.

Prizes: Prizes will be shared with each event detail. (Please visit @pitofblood for event details)

Cotton Candy Carnival of Dark Horrors

Darkness unfurled in cool tendrals revealing the elf of difficult demeanor. Nikym’s shadows curled out and licked at the back of Vox’s neck invitingly before they disipated unnaturally. In his right hand he held a cone of cotton candy.

Vox felt the air around her shift and ignored the shadows that gave greeting to her skin. She continued to eat her cake as if nothing was wrong at all, ignoring Nikym’s presence for the time being. Bite after bite, she licked her lips, smiling at Shea; her new friend. Turning to Talavar, she speaks in a pleasant tone.

“Could I have a drink please?”

Setting eyes back on Shea, Vox scans the woman’s face, curious about who she is.

"Good evening Vox,” he growled out at the little thing.

“I do not believe I caught your na—.”  Nikym. Hearing his voice, her eyes went wide and she turns to him to see a ball of cotton candy. What great trickery was this? Trying not to act startled, she speaks with a cool tongue.

"It is a lovely evening indeed. Glad you could join us.”  Taking the cone, Vox offered the white haired kaldorei a slice of her half eaten cake in trade. Nikym snatched the cone back.

"Excuse you!” Nikym growled and slapped her across the face.

Vox looks at her plate and didn’t hesitate pushing it towards Nikym’s face, right after she felt the burn of his hand across her cheek. “Bastard!” she yells as her eyes begin to tear. His hand hurt her soft delicate skin and she fought through the sting to seek justice.

Talaver’s attention snapped to the commotion, his eyes turn from Vox, to Nikym, and back to the his charge once again. Raising himself tofull height, the muscle bound behemoth takes a step forward, his voice rumbled in irritation, echoing deep in his chest.

“Do it…again,” he threatens with grit teeth, taking another step towards the elf. It seems someone had upset the gargantuan.

Nikym looked up at the huge fucking elf and took a mouthfull of pink cotton candy. His expressions were uncarring and he looked back to Vox.

"Would you care for a bite Vox?” he lolled his head over to consider the elf with a flat expression before once more ignoring his threats.

“It seems your former warden is yet to break old habits,” he stated, holding the cone of cotton candy out to Vox. “With your mouth only… I don’t know where those hands have been.”

Talavar suddenly surges forward without warning, sending a hand toward the smaller elf, aiming for his neck, eager to choke the literal life out of him for such insolence. It was true, he really hated cotton candy, though mostly he wanted to rearrange the elf’s face.

Nikym craned his neck for the massive elf to take as deep of a hold as he could manage, but his expressions remaned cold and stoic as he again raised the fluffly pink mass to his lips. He opened his mouth to shovel some in, gagging at the enormous man’s grip. He couldn’t speak if he tried besides, he didn’t need to speak, only chew, as slobbery pink froth dripped from his paling lips to dribble into his beared before falling onto Talavar’s arm. Then, he began to smack his lips, chewing in a loud, sloppy fashion to make as big an sticky a mess as possible, all the while his expressions remained utterly uncarring. He moved to gather more pink cotton, straining to reach it.

It was late afternoon when mail arrived to Vox’s cottage in the grove. Talavar sat at the table, drunk as usual. She was busy tending to chores assigned by the brutish man who eyed her from time to time, grumbling to himself. He stopped by for a quick meal, making sure she was doing something with her day besides her usual; nothing.

“Get the door Vox.”

Snarling, she smacks the side of his head annoyed and walks to the door to retrieve the mail, barefoot and pregnant. 

“Letters, nothing more. There are no parcels.”

Shuffling through a few fliers of city events, she eyes an anonymous letter that inquired whether or not she was courting anyone. Pulling the letter to her chest, she smiled, thinking that whoever asked such a question fancied her. 

“Talavar, someone adores me! I swear my words are true. I am still as desirable as I was before you cursed me with this round belly.”

“That damn mouth of yours Vox never stops running. Shut your mouth and the fucking door.”

Slamming the door shut in anger, she looks to the window on the right side of the room where Nikym stood outside, watching her every move. The man that claimed her, possessed her, and marked her for his simply because he can. Moments later, Nikym fades from sight and she could still feel him linger.

Yes she is! Talavar Steelhearth ( @talavar ) is the father. She is 6 months pregnant. With the mass confusion of the storyline, and having to use an NPC as her old lover, Talavar and I were able to push back the timeline. IC, Vox just didn’t know she was that far along in her pregnancy when she announced the news to everyone. 

Foxy is petite and she wears flowing gowns to conceal her baby belly. If anything, an old friend may assume she has had too many sweet treats in regards to the weight gain on the rest of her body. Her cheeks are a little chubbier, her ass a little rounder, breasts fuller, but that is it for the Foxy Voxy. 

Here is a photo of Foxy Voxy’s belly. ( A pregnant supermodel of course! ) 

I found myself leaving our bedroom after a night of well needed pleasure. The nurse tend to his wounds from Bella and I let him sleep. I should of said no.. I made him dress in a simple shirt as a way for drunks to think they had the advantage. Parts of me were angry at her but then I watched him.. My champion would need to learn more if he wanted to be such. His bad habits would need to be cut down and I would make him into a champion even if I myself needed to bend him to fit such a role.

My nights no longer held peace as I stayed in the de’Lacrua mansion. Her tongued lingered on my body and with each step I felt a blaze deep within. A distraction it was becoming and all at the wrong time. I still had my recruits to gather, speak with the Marquise and her beloved while also pleasing Mr. Steelhearth. That fucking bastard, a grand show that would be for him to fall to my blade.  Though certain goals were made there was still so much work still needed to be done.

With little bodies it almost made it impossible to get things done and with the higher up disgusted with me it made things worse. We will never see eye to eye and details to him meant nothing… Morning will come and my champion will go under a series of training. I will mold him into a perfect weapon. Care for him and when this pit is made.. All the fun will begin…

Find five men he said by the end of the week. I handled things differently.. Alaedann and I made our way to one of the taverns in Duskwood. Rather common grounds that most of Bloodcrown work was done at. I shared words about the pit and his eyes lit up quicker than a wick of a firework. Every pit needs a champion and what better way to lure these men in then waggling around the undefeated, In exchange he would get the fame, the girls and gold. It didn’t take long for Miss Lily to join us and our words grew into more detail even speaking about having the press talk about such and event.

She was more than pleased and slowly a new bond was formed. I had my medic who would pass judgement and now my champion.. One who did not care if one was living or dead.. So as long as he got what he wanted.

He had it all.. The charm, the sex appeal and most of all determination.. What better way to make a crowd cheer then having such.. Slowly my vision was coming to play… The skeletal of such was there but it was time to give it life. Leaving the tavern on a better note we left together. Made our way through Stormwind’s taverns to find those who wanted to make quick coin and fight the champion. Little did it work and slowly my attention was more towards him then anything else.

We retired early and took a evening swim sharing words still of the pit as he offered touches that no man dared to besides one.. Each touch gave me a moment a bliss. Made me feel much like them….. Living… He was my champion and not for the perks that he would lay in my bed at night but because there was an equal understanding.

Mr. Steelheart was a bitter man and my words to my champion were true. Respect and working beside each other is what keeps my blade beside you and not at your throat. Weapons should be handle with care.. If they are tossed around and not really given the proper care they lose their edge and become useless. Good thing I am my own caretaker..

The evening ended with a touch far greater than I could vision.. As much as my champion would be spoiled he gave me a gift that I didn’t expect. The last time man has touched me in such way I felt nothing but the desperation of a man who wanted to feel something other than misery.. In the up coming days my champion and I would find Mr. Steelheart’s men. Those warriors that join the house would be trained by me and Alaedann. We will also be meeting with the Marquise and her lover and speak about a sneak peak of what the pit would be.

Once they given approval Lily will share news to the press and all would be welcomed.. To watch men act like beast ripping each other to their very core.. Slowly it comes to play… With dedicated people it will not be long before the pit is filled with blood and cheer.

And I have my champion and Miss Lily to thank for such…

There are those that fear it but others that embrace it.. Death is what separates us from men and cowards. What says you. Are you able to pick up a blade and jump in the arena and battle your foes to the brink of death?  And those that enjoy to see men shatter each other allowing bloodshed to paint their forms. Would you love a place to celebrate over finest of sin. Men have women on your lap courting your very needs as men do battle..

Sallyris de’Lacrua presents to you the pit of Bloodcrown. Men and Women who do not fear death battle to brink allowing one more blow before judgement is given.. Do we allow death or shall you be spared to see another sunrise…

Have we caught your attention yet? To share words of such excitement seek Sallyris de’Lacrua. Do you take part in the pit… Bring your strongest of blades.. Wish to watch? Bring heavy bags of coin and let the queen of ice treat you to a night of excitement..

Those with a weak stomach please keep on walking. The viewings of the pit are only made of adults not little kids.

ooc: House Bloodcrown is now taking new recruits for a part in the storyline. Please see @housebloodcrown for guild rules. If outsiders who wish to be apart of storyline but not of guild please understand that is a dark themed type of rp. All stories or rp shared via tumblr or in game will contain nsfw/triggers. You have been warned.

Music

The Baron was no longer around. Every promise had fade just like the chill on my body.. Her touch.. A poison that burned my very core had set me to be more determined. The droplets of water added to make my corpse look pleasing it seemed… Those of the court that didn’t see death pleasing began to touch me. For the first time… I felt alive. Every nerve in my body.. Felt fire and ice dance in a graceful war zone.. One trying to over power the other.. Morning came as the sun barely kissed the stone that made Stormwind and there was the ungrateful bastard Talavar.

He shared his news about the Baron and parts of me felt at ease.. Parts of me would probably miss the fact that he was the only crazed man to fuck death but after sharing words with Talavar reality sinked in. I am no longer living. I am just a weapon.. I don’t need love.. To take place beneath a man as he force his cock in one of my holes. The only kneeling to a man I needed to do was to accept my cute leather collar with a silver bell… A reminder of the past life that I was nothing more than what some of this women of the court are.. A doll used to please men with mouth or cunt.

Fangs were bared but truth given in his words. I would have my slaughter pit if I proved myself useful. Already I proven myself a fighter and gained the respect of one.. The perv from the gala was smitten by the new look of my body caused by my white queen and now I had to gain a total of five men by the end of the week.. You would think that the whores would have a easier time of getting such to join our ranks.. But clearly they are doing a poor job..

If death must outshine those living then let it be by my hands. I may not be the girl that is allowed to lay with another.. It is clear that death took that away from me but I will not let death take more from me.. It was foolish of him.. Maybe one day I will turn my blade towards him and we will see who is the disgusting one.. He wants me to collect his men while he sips on his poison… Each men I gain will be used for my slaughter pit.

Until he treats me as his ally and is grateful my blade is not against his throat I will be a greedy corpse taking everything I want for my own benefits. Then when his lips touch my skin, of course figuratively, then he will be allowed to have more of a gain.. What better way to gain men then by hosting the first event of the pit..

To give the lord and Marquise a taste and for others to view what exactly they would be getting into.. After all.. He wants men and not little boys… I do believe it is time to speak with Miss Lily… See if she is ready to take on her role in all of this.

Maybe with such riots… My white queen will come out to play as well.. Maybe it was his words, maybe it is the touch of fire that lingers on my body or that things were starting to go in motion… But for once…. I feel there is purpose… A bloody painful purpose…

Sallyris

(( Part Three ))

Amon entered the Inn and looked about… a smattering of simple patrons were strewn throughout spinning tales, drinking and eating - thick slabs of pork seemed to be the offering this evening. He ambled to the bar and spoke in a hushed tone then made his way to the fire in customary fashion. Shortly after There came a booming voice from the slaughterhouse in the back.

“WEEE’RE  CLOSED FER’ THA’ NIGHT FOLKS - GIT OUT!” and a massive man of genuine girth waddled out into the main room, his butcher’s apron covered in pig’s blood. He wielded a cleaver the size of a child as he glared around the tavern at the small folk who quickly departed. The Inn was once more empty. Amon nodded to the man of considerable girth and he slid back into the butchery without a word. He plainly didn’t care for Amon, but his gold had been double what the disgusting creature would have made that night.

Talavar grunts softly, hands gently resting on the chair as he looks between the two.“I can’t imagine I had the option to refuse. What is it you wished to speak about?”

Blairé flinched slightly at the butchers yelling causing her to look to the floor a moment till she gained her composure.

Sybil scoffs at the piggish man, sloppy and vile. His waddle disgusts her, rightfully so. Why was he not he served for dinner. Such a waste of space. He wasn’t fit for the air she breathed and he sucked the life out of this room. “Talavar, you are  always a joy to meet with, your words crisp and clear. I do wonder what you do for fun.”

Talavar digs down, slipping a hand under his codpiece, slipping out his flask. Raising it to his lips, he takes a sip.“I can’t imagine you’ll ever know, Marquis.”

Amon turned about and looked between Blairé and Talavar. “Talavar, you know that regardless what platitudes La'Vaye displays quivering at my knees, I cannot trust him. He is a snake in the grass… no, a roach.” He looked over at Blairé. “Blairé… I have one question for you and it will  decide whether or not I can allow you to remain in council.” he looked to Sybil then to Talavar then back to her. “Can you spill the blood of innocent men… women… and children?” his tone was flat and cold.

Blairé looks up at the question narrowing her eyes. “You seem to imply that I haven’t before Master Swiftsteel, while I may not have been held in the highest regards amongst my clan, I still served them the same way every other person under the Du'Croix banner served. If part of the mission was to kill all who opposed my Family, then all who opposed, whether it was the fighters or their families were disposed of. So yes…I have spilled the blood of innocents. It is just not something I do often.”

Sybil settles in next to Amon, clearing her mind of pleasantries as the tone of the conversation gets serious. When a servant rounds her side, she sends her to the shelf to pour her glass of vintage red with notes of apples and berries. Setting her  gaze on Talavar, she speaks clear and true, her tongue flip with viciousness. “Baron La'Vaye on his knees was not enough to sate my desire to see him suffer for the foul tongue that wags the experience of a five year old. I care  not for him to ruin the lands of Bloodcrown with stupidity.”

Amon sucked his teeth annoyed. “Will you spill it for Sybil? will you spill it for me?” he asked sharply searching her. “I seem to recall a particularly crude Pandarian you suffered to live in the cellars of my Draenor garrison. Do you remember?”

Talavar fingers gently tap along the back of the chair, his eyes turning to her form, slipping up to her face, the silver of his eyes glimmering gently before finally speaking.“What would you like me to do?”

Blairé narrowed her eyes to Amon. “I remember the Pandaren, and people change Amon…” A rare occurrence Blairé using Amon’s first name rather than her normal moniker for him, her tone seemed a bit tense. “I was promised a new life under this banner and the tutelage of the Marquise. I do not expect such things to come free. So yes, If i am told to do so, I will kill for the you. I will Kill for the Marquise. It is making me wonder why you question what I am and am not capable of.”

Sybil stands in silence and looks to her hands that gripped the length of her fox fur stole until her knuckles burned white.

Talavar raises an eyebrow, waiting, eyes glancing between the two, a subtle frown growing as he was made to wait. Crossing his arms slowly, the chair settles into its original position.

Amon offered Blairés words a brusque nod then looked to Talavar ignoring her concerns for now. “We are going to secure additional leverage against La'Vaye’s proclivity for wayward behavior.” he took Sybil at the waist and drew her close searching her features as he spoke further. “Though I  understand a man in love… I will not risk this venture and our efforts for the obsession of a foolish man.” And he looked back to Talavar. “We need you to smuggle a small band of murderers ashore north of the La'Vaye’s barony and see them to his walls  safely.” he paused, still looking at talavar. “I would have the heads of  his three chief men… men he will know upon seeing. Take them in secret so as the isles take the blame… it is a savage place and none should question such things.” Then a darkness fell over his eyes. “You will return alone and in secret but Blairé will lead a band in the forests to lie in wait… Sybil’s coven will mask them there, for no-one but fools venture north there.” He looked to Blairé… “You will take the ghoul… Bandrict, and my fighting man Nikym… He will speak  for me upon the isles but he is at your command.” then he turned his gaze back to Talavar. “We will strangle this man into submission… If he so much as pisses in the wrong corner of Sybil’s legacy we will burn his world to ash and take everything he holds dear for spoil.”

Talavar nostrils flare softly as he lets out a breath, his form straightening once more, an order given that was more along the lines of his usual practice. Dipping his head, his lips part, revealing words of loyalty.“As you like. Though perhaps taking those under him is not the only venture to do so, if you care to listen.”

Blairé looked to Amon closely. She moved forward pulling her bag off her shoulders setting it to her side. “Am I an this band going to be the ones killing the men or is Mister Talavar the one carrying them out. I am sorry if I misunderstood your request Master Amon, I just want to be clear in what my role in this is along with the ghoul and your man

Amon nodded to him… "Please, elucidate.” he gestured for Talavar to continue then looked to Blairé offering a quieting hand to permit Talavar to speak. “One moment.”

Blairé nodded. Her body still seemed tense as she looked over to Talavar.“

Sybil wore Amon’s arm with pride as her heart swelled, staring into the loving abyss of his eyes. While he spoke, she traced his lips with her gaze, never letting one syllable get wasted in the soft noise of the hearth. "Talavar, your words are most welcome. Please, enlighten me in the same manner my love did. Speak my heart’s desire, for it burns with justice and vengeance.”

Talavar gently drums along his armor.“Men may be hired in lieu of those taken, that does nothing to affect his pride, merely his wallet. If you are to take from him, then do so…Destroy one of his precious ships, in front of him. He cares  for them so, they are what represent him, and, should you like, perhaps take his manhood while you’re at it, literally.” baring his gaze with a small smirk.“Or, make him think as such…perhaps have Vox do it….His love clouds his actions, binds him into  idiocy, and treason…Perhaps set up the perfection he’s always wished…Have her bring a writ of promotion, to your leading general…to your Fleet Admiral. His Rank to that above Baron, all of it, coming from her…and when he gets so close as to  getting it, snatch it away. He needs to be broken, not bruised….otherwise, how do you plan to build him back up? ]: A declaration of Marriage from Sybil, all of it…and tear it one, by one, ending with a lovely knife to what he truly holds dear…You shall have him in tears by the end of the night. “Acting as though the Isles did it doesn’t win his loyalty, it simply redirects his hate, for a brief time. If you wish for the sake to stop rattling at you, you must remove the rattle.”

Blairé looked to Sybil and Amon then to Talavar. "If you sink of his ships, most of which I presume are here near the Eastern Kingdoms, how do you propose exploding one of his ships making it seem as if the Isles did it? Or is your intent to force him into submission without trying to frame the Bloodcrown Isles?”

Sybil listens to the ideas given during council, and speaks words of her own. “I wish him dead above all other fates however, a roach of a man never dies. He will simply slither away and be a nuisance elsewhere. Shall we curse another house with an ungodly  sight? I am a foreigner in Stormwind and I seek to hold my good name. Baron La'Vaye makes us look cheap seeing he is worth nothing. The way he knelt before my love was not done to my liking, no. What do you have if you cannot trust a man? I  can’t free him to think himself bold to offend us in the same manner again at a later time. I will never forget the night of the gala where his foolishness shined above all the gowns on the dance floor. Since that day on, he was dead to me and the court.  My grace kept him here, and Amon’s hand kept still from squashing his thick head with a tiny brain. It barely ticks. I wonder if he can speak and walk at the same time.”

Blairé ponders the conversation wondering how much she truly missed during her week away.

Amon raised his head judging the kaldorei’s words carefully, then he grinned in a terrible fashion and addressed Blair first. “Your band will do the deeds… Talavar is transportation and security whilst at sea. He may take the heads if it is his pleasure, if  not, it will fall to you and your company of killers.” then he returned a wry study to Taavar. “You are especially cruel brother, and some day I would have the tale of such cruelty’s crafting if it suits you. But, frankly… I do not want the man rebuilt… I want him  wearing a collar until this whole conquest business is done. Then we will determine what to do with him.” Then he paused and shook his head and smiled. “Though you are a marvelous killer brother, a crafter of madness you are not. For his ships sit in mooring off the coast of  his barony… If we sink one, we must sink them all, for they will join him in this rebellious spirit and never come under our command. Save for the wholesale slaughter of their crews the vessels would be lost and troublesome.” his expressions then softened. “While I appreciate the ruthlessness of playing the strings of his heart - and It would serve to strengthen our grasp at his throat to re-acquaint him with this strange obsession for miss Vox.” he looked to Sybil and smiled darkly. “Unfortunately, I am not the kind of man to bend a knee to  deception. Hence the calling for this meeting in the first. What better am I for casting wild lies about for gain. It is crude and I’ll not have part in flat lies.” and Sybil began to speak… Amon held his tongue until her final word… he nodded and spoke in agreement. “Yes, and I will not stoop to his foul deception to rid us of him.” he looked to talavar. “La'Vaye believes he is a man of honor… He came back for the sake of his obsession and his lands and his people. He is a drunken romantic, lost in visions of grandeur. When I send you both we will make a statement… when I leave you Blairé, it is the punctuation of a promise.” and he thought a moment… “Send Vox also… She knows the household and the lands… She will know who is best suited  for our message.” Then he smiled at Talavar… “If La'Vaye pulls against the collar you will be loosed upon all he loves I assure you.” he nodded. “Until then, I am a man of my word and I will not have my word sullied for the sake of a small man.”

Talavar narrowing his gaze, he dips his head in a brief nod, saying no more, the hulk was a man of action, not of words, and he would prove as such. “As you like, it shall be done then.”

Amon agreed. “Then it’s settled… Blairé…” he addressed her with a grim smile. “It seems as though you will be returning to the isles.” he looked to Sybil.“Does this please you? I would slay him but for the honor of my word. He will give me reason, in this I trust.”

Sybil walks to the table and finds a have read newspaper, kissed with stains of food from prior customers earlier. Grabbing it harshly, she rolls it up and smacks it upon the table as she speaks. “Baron La'Vaye’s horoscope reads; it is all downhill  from here. I wonder why he is not here apologize for his absence from court seeing he has been busy hiding under the skirts of women in fear. That is why I do not see him hold council with other men. Nobody can like the man well enough to temporarily fill  the holes in his self-esteem. What a waste.” Looking over her shoulder at Amon, she nods. “I am most pleased.”

Amon returned her nod with a smile.

Blairé nodded as she received clarification of her question. Talavar might notice it should he look Blairés way but beneath the height of the table the lower portion of her leg was shaking. Her hands at her side were clenched and shaking slightly as well. “Your wills shall be done. Wh-When do we leave?” Blairé gulped slightly as her nerves started showing. She closed her eyes lowering her head shaking it slightly as if trying to clear whatever may be in her head.

Sybil tossed the paper on the table and noticed a full glass of vintage red awaits her delicate hand. Gripping the glass by the stem, her words come out, light and airy, delivered by a chuckle. “Sorry La'Vaye, nobody is coming to rescue from life.  Bad decisions are your friends and your only hobby is never getting over my ward. I want to throw this man in the deep arms of the abyss in the most creative of ways.” ]: *Nobody is coming to rescue you from life*

Amon ’s eyes narrowed at Blairé. “At once… I would have the collar drawn. His wayward nature cannot be trusted a moment more.” Then he looked to tAlavar. “Talavar will see to your passage and he will deliver you any further changes to your order Blairé…” at  her name he looked to her. “… Until you are alone, ashore… He is your command, is that clear?” he asked, unflinching.

Blairé nods looking to Talavar. She took a few deep breaths and it seemed as a switch in her head flipped. “Understood Master Amon.” She turned to Talavar bowing slightly. “When you are ready to depart Mister Talavar as am I ser.” She sounded a bit more confident though her body was still tense.

Sybil takes a quick sip of wine and looks in the glass disgusted. All this talk of the Baron turns her stomach. Returning to Amon’s side, she inhales his scent deeply, and thanks fate for being blessed with such a brilliant man. “Here’s to Baron  La'Vaye’s misery, courting a dead fantasy alone in the dark.”

Talavar slowly turning to the woman, He glares down at her, his hulking frame encompassing her with the shadows of his past, and present. “If you’re going to be nervous, I’ve no use for you.” Keeping that gaze, he locks on her own, before turning toward the door,  heading out.

Amon smiled over at Talavar. “She is rather enjoyable company once you loosen her up.” he smirked playfully at Blairé. “I believe the pair of you will quite enjoy each other’s company.” Then a sudden thought gripped him… “Talavar… if you are unable to  procure a ship and crew discreetly, see either our purchased man Garhett or the lady Foxthorn. Garhett is not a killer, but he is a man tied to an anchor for his debt to me. Foxthorn has a vested interest in the isles and I sense a ruthlessness in her.”

Talavar nodded sharply as if ready to be on with it “I shall make my way to Lady Foxthorn.”

Amon nodded. “As you wish!”

Talavar turns, staring back at the man.“I’ve no use for the man. He is not willing to kill, then he will be in the way, useless.”

Sybil whispers to Amon as she watched Talavar take his leave. “What a weight off my shoulder, to know I will no longer have to suffer that man’s face, or invent good qualities for me to tolerate him.”

Blairé glared to Talavar as he looked down to her. “Sorry not everyone is built to be a killing machine…but when the time comes I will show why Master Amon chose me for this…” She bowed to Amon and Sybil respectfully before tailing on Talavars heels.

Amon agreed with Talavar, the kaldorei was proving a creature of conviction after all and to that regard, Amon could relate, regardless how small the giant considered him. Before looking to Blairé… “It may be wise for you to recruit a man or more among the Crows to join you… But be wise, it is said they are a strange breed. If Demetrius is in any way the man I knew before, be very prudent.” he cautioned… “Sybil and I will be leaving for sanctum and the inn is yours… enjoy it… completely. For until morning it will see no other soul.” and he looked to Sybil. “Shall we?” he motioned for the door then looked up at the pair… “I am certain the pair of you have plans to discuss, there is no quieter place tonight. It would be a waste to purchase for so short a meeting.”

Blairé smirked to Amon. "Fret not Master Amon, I feel capable of achieving the goals you require. And you and the Marquise enjoy your evening.”

Sybil took her leave before Amon, beckoning him with the sway of her hips that rolled in a figure eight, shimmying towards the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she looks to Amon with a lidded gaze, deep seeded with lewd desires. “Thank  you all for attending this evening. Needless to say, the court will be well rewarded come invasion.”

Amon followed after her with hunger. “I do so love it when you get greedy.” he grinned at her and they departed.

Sybil slams against Amon’s chest, pulling him by the waist towards the door, a finger pressed to his lips. Eyes wide with promises. Lips sealed with secrets to be stolen in the night. And so they went into the woods, as lovers often do, spinning  tales of love.

(( Part Two ))

Nikym opened the door permitting the Baron with no delay. As before, the table had been set with all manner of delicacy. Though this time there were items from his homeland, buttered fish, baked forest root and boiled shrimp over a frosted arcane marbles. There was absynth, frothing in smokey green baths of chemical fog. There were boars heads and piles of leafy greens that grew in the dank places familiar to the isles.

Nikym stepped outside and closed the door. “Baron, welcome.” Amon’s tone was regal and unwaveringly cordial… “Please, please…” He gestured to the seat of honor. “Sybil will be joining forthwith.” he smiled, looking at her empty chair before padding about it to take his customary place near the fire. “I am pleased at your return.” he admitted cooly. “…though I do hope…” he looked over at him. “…it comes with a clear mind…” he looked. “Talavar will also be joining us… the feud between the pair of you must be extinguished.”

Renlerian took a deep breath. “Actually for this, I believe I would prefer to stand. Not as a slight against you just because these words need to uttered from from the right perspective. It’s clear I do need to apologize to both you and Sybil, so I will wait for her arrival. ” He made no move at the mention of Talavar, only keeping his eye glued to Amon.

Amon nodded in agreement. “As you wish dear Baron. We will wait.”

As if on queue, Sybil stormed in from the chilled rain that started to fall from a cracked cloud in the sky. The droplets were so large and heavy, they felt like marbles smacking against her face. Letting out a sigh, she tossed her loose waves with her left hand, feeling a tug when a strand gets caught in her ring. Untangling the jewel, she looked at the ring with a smile and her gaze slid to Amon. Slipping it on her ring finger, she has a seat by the fire.

Amon greeted her with a wry smile. “All wet my love… and without me no less… how shameful.” he teased her, drinking her in before turning his attention back to the baron. “Proceed sir.” he gestured, relegating the floor to his words.

Renlerian clasped his hands together behind his back, moving into a parade rest position. “I let my emotions get the best of me. Everyone knows I do from time to time, The drawback of being on the sea for so long, but I am not here to give you excuses, I am here to apologize to you both for my actions. They were uncalled for and unwarranted. You made me an offer and I spit in your face, for that I do apologize.” He sighed softly as he kept his gaze slightly between the pair. “In order to make up for my actions of last night, I came to propose a deal to you both. One that will make sure your plan causes very little bloodshed of my people. Will you be willing to hear it?”

Sybil drops her right shoulder and leans towards Amon, looking up at him with a cheshire grin before giving her attention back to Renlerian, allowing Amon to grant the Baron his wish, if he so desired. Looking past the table, she spots Talavar lingering in the back of the room and she invites him with a sweeping hand to sit and join council.

The door opened and Nikym showed Talavar in and once more closed the door behind him, leaving the four of them alone in the inn to parley.

Talavar steps in without a word, simply nestling in behind the chair before him.

Amon nodded… “Yes I will hear it. It is not my wish to wade a river of blood. What good is a kingdom with no-one whole enough to command?” he looked to Talavar and offered a knowing smiled. “I am pleased that you could make it brother. Please, hold your peace and hear out the Baron with me. ” and he looked back to the Baron and offered him another gesture for procession. “Please… Continue I am listening.”

Talavar turning his gaze down, he abstains, simply standing, waiting.

Sybil kept her gaze on Talavar before waving him over. “Come, share words with me while they speak. Talavar, how do you fare as of late? All is well I take it?”

Amon looked over at Sybil and ground his teeth. He neared her and placed a loving hand on her shoulder offering a gentle but firm squeeze but says nothing.

Talavar turns his gaze slowly to Sybil, lofting an eyebrow before turning his bulk toward her. “Well enough.” Was all he offered for the moment.

Renlerian nodded once. “You know my relation to the Lord’s grandson, that means I can get him to stand down so there will be no force on the islands to stand against your arrival. With my ships under your banner, they will let use through. I can get Marquis Blackcrown to march you right to his grandfather so you can take the killing blow. One body, that is all this will cost on both sides. After all is said and done, I humbly request that you allow Marquis Blackcrown to exist in peace with his wife. Exile me if you wish after but that is what I ask. And if you decide to kill me after, I would ask that you deliver my hat to him, so he knows not to look for me or seek revenge. He’ll understand what it means. Is that possible?”

Sybil was in good spirits and she hid a smile behind her palm when Amon proclaims his love with a well placed affection to her shoulder. Peeling her gaze from Talavar, she gives Renlerian her undying attention, still smiling wildly.

Talavar continues to stand, shifting so his arms come to rest over his massive chest, as he continues to wait, patiently.

Amon drew a long breath and sidled over to the hearth. He mulled over the man’s words for a long moment… “That puts an awful lot of power in your hands La’Vaye.” he stared into the fire’s mad flames. His mind turning over and over at the implications. “Were you a stable man and not one so given to fits silly girls, I might be better convinced dear Baron.” he paused once more measuring himself. “As it stands your fleet is important against me. For I can simply strap your past affections to the masts of my own and you wont fire a shot… It is a weakness I simply cannot abide Baron.” He turned from the flames and looked into the man’s long, hard eyes. “Nevertheless, I respect a man with courage enough to face his misfortune head on and weigh it’s chaos.” Then he looked to Talavar. “I had given Talavar the title of Admiral. He has already studied the history of the isles and it’s tactics, much of which are to your credit.” then his eyes fell over the baron once more and he watched him with a terrible stillness. “The Darkriders are mine already… they will fall in beneath Sybil and march under my banner.” he looked back into the fire… “No Baron… I could take the Isles without blood… but that is not my wish.” and he looked over the room and settled on him. “For it is without blood that it was purchased and then by blood that it has been shackled five hundred years…” and with that he stepped around the table and came close upon the baron. “No Baron… I do not need you for a bloodless coup. I want you and your Bloodcrown heir to aid us in the shattering of past’s vain bonds.” he gripped him at the shoulder. “ We will wash the smell of it’s filth from the isles with blood. But I will not be a deceptive usurper… It was Bloodcrown blood that began this age… It will be Bloodcrown deed to end it.” he grinned darkly. “The last Bloodcrown will crown me king himself and he will die an old man cursed for child.” And he released him turning about to make his way to the fire once more… He was nearly trembling with anticipation. “Beyond your ships and men, the dark riders and the common folks… All nobility and royal host will perish before us.” and he looked then at Talavar smiling darkly. “We are not cowards dear Baron…” he looked at Sybil then back to the Baron… “What say you Baron? Will you sail and war under my banner?” He looked and gestured to Talavar… “Can you fight along side a warrior race to reclaim the madness of a long lost era?” He looked back… “Can you kneel before me now and submit your will to mine as your king?”

In the corner, a lone cockroach hid in a shadow, fearful of those in the room. Running past Sybil’s feet, she shot herself back in the chair and jumped a few feet before settling in the conversation once again, just in time to hear Amon’s words. They were sizzling hot, well crafted, swung like flawless steel. Perfection.

Renlerian mulled over the words of the Kal'dorei for a brief moment before nodding. “If that is was it takes to ensure my nephew will not be harmed, then yes, yes I will without hesitation. You already know I care not for my life but if it spares him and his, then yes I will.” He always didn’t trust the long winded types but it was something that needed to be done. He dropped to a knee as he looked to the ground. Part of him hated himself for doing so but he’s done worse in his life.

Sybil kept quiet, alert, and attentive to the conversation going on. History was in the making, and she watched memories in the making.

Talavar narrows his gaze for a moment or two, those silvery orbs glinting softly, hiding behind it unspoken words, and feelings. Rolling a shoulder, a single strand of hair fell into great warriors face, though the behemoth remained stalwart, and unmoving, Amon’s figure pacing by the fire throwing shadows softly over him, giving him an ebony glint to his skin. Purposefully, he turns his gaze over to the Sea dog that stood with them, Silently judging, before turning that gaze back to his one, true employer. Ever taking in those around him, The Wall settled in, shifting so that his arms fell from his chest, slipping back behind him, gently clasping one another. Rolling a shoulder once more, the soft tweak of leather was met with an accompanying scent that wafted over the table, mingling with the smell of fine cheeses, and spirits. As Amon moved once more from the fire, the fighter’s armor would glow, soft dents of battles past glinting gently, his blade shining softly, as it hungering for more, even the worn, torn iron of his shield, its massive from scarred by the blows of numerous weapons, Arrows, swords, axes, even pole arms, all standing ready for testament, the one, single truth, that the man before them was not an unsung hero, he would do as he was asked, as he was paid to do, for that was the line of the job, his Loyalty fell to one, and no one other, and that was the one who offered him his share, though some circumstances may change that, in the end, he was exactly as he stood out to be. Turning his glinting, lantern like gaze to Amon, his lips curl, if just barely before being stifled, now was not the time for such gestures. Playing the good guard, he simply waits, listening, taking all that was around him in.

Amon made his way before him. “Then you have my oath. Your Bloodcrown man and his beloved will live like a king in my court and sit at my right hand and you at his.” Then he chuckled “Now stand up… you look a fool.” he shot Talavar a smirk. “We are returning to old fashions… there be no more of this kneeling and false piety, I know you hate me and my kind Renlarian… I will not begrudge you that hate.” he he smiled looking back at Sybil. “Though the sight did please a particularly cynical side of me.” and he turned clapping Talavar on the shoulder. “Talavar… What say you brother? Can you pillage beside out Baron here?” he spoke the title mockingly. “I know the prospect of skull fucking him in the ashes of his estate were of a particularly keen savor. I do hope you are not terribly dissapointed.” and he made his way around them to stand at Sybil’s side… “Lover… What say you?” and he placed a loving hand on her shoulder, grinning a devious kind of grin that spoke of his raging lust for her.

Renlerian rose slowly and resumed his parade rest position. He didn’t take the time to spare Talavar a glance as Amon addressed him.

Talavar once again, the hulking man’s head swivels slowly, his shoulders settling back as he stands to his full height, casting a shadow over the diminutive man, narrowing his gaze briefly, like the shutter to a lantern, he silently judges the man’s worth, before turning back to the his employer’s mate, meeting his gaze head on, unflinchingly. To both men, though their renown, and standing might be great, they were nothing compared to that exact shadow that was cast, for it was those who took the spoils of war, and the titles, the glamor, all of it, would go to them, for they would live, however, for the forefront, those at the head of the group, the only spoils left behind were torn armor, and bloodstained ground. Letting his lips part, thick, and violet, a generous background to the glinting of his fangs, He speaks, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room.“As I’ve said before…You’ve paid for my blade, for my shield, and for my armor, therefore, I am bound by contract…as are you.”

Amon chuckled looking over the mighty creature. “Very well, what shall it cost me to convince your tongue to tarry prudent in public company?”

Amon grinned over at Talavar. “What say you to honor and steel purchase of the trade city of Haleth?” he looked between the two men. “I have plans in mind already… It will require some effort to procure I assure you. For sport we shall not want.”

Talavar turning his gaze back in return, staring for a moment or two before finally reaching out to grab for a bottle, quiet, for the moment as he unstoppers the top, letting the heady scent of alcohol flood the immediate area. Raising it to his lips, he takes a generous mouthful, letting the sting slowly sink into hidden crevices of his mouth, before swallowing, his hands quickly following. “My Footsteps shall be the first to fall upon its soil.”

Amon nodded, “Without question.” he looked over at Ren. “We will discuss the plans. Talavar cannot take it alone. But the three of us will bring it to it’s knees. One of many glorious victories before us.” He assured them both.

Sybil felt a wave of heat come over her body and her eyes fall to half-mast. Peering up at Amon with a lidded gaze, she gripped the side of her chair till her knuckles turned white and her hands burned a brilliant shade of pink. It took everything she had to sit their quietly, in the throws of lewd desire. Tucking her chin to her shoulder, she rubs her cheek on his hand for a moment, pulling her the face of her fox fur stole off her right breast to sit on top of her cleavage. “I say to keep making love to me with your words, Darling Amon. I am moved by your words.”

Renlerian cleared his throat. “It’s a fine city but one of trade. Too much damage to will only hurt in the long run. With all due respect, trade should commence without too much interruption. Might I suggest an alternate target, one that will not affect the isles as much, but one that will still be able to produce the fight that you wish and might even be a slight more of a challenge.”

Amon held up a hand… “We will discuss the details in war council. We shall take both.” he grinned. “With as little defacement as possible.”

Renlerian nodded once. “Thank you. I will agree that an example must be set to make clear your claim.”

Amon nodded to the baron and to Talavar. “Then if matters are settled for now. Let us begin to make plans.” he looked to Renlarian. “You will of course remain High Admiral. No-one knows those seas or harbor defenses as well as you it would be foolish to remit you to any lessor station.” he looked to Talavar. “Had it in mind to put my Man Nikym in command of our west coast ground forces. But I believe you are better suited to the task. If you will take it the title of Grand General is yours along with your spoils.” He looked to Sybil and ground his teeth with a certain measure of lust. “There is much to discuss but the evening wares at me.” he looked between them. “If there are no objections let us reconvene at a later time and plot our path.” he grinned. “We will be at war soon.”

Talavar narrowing his gaze, he rumbled softly. “It seems it is good I always keep allies on hand, my contracts seem to change like the wind, as easily wiped away as words..” was sitting beneath the canopy of the tables edge, her right leg crossed over the left, thighs pressed against each other tight. A finger might have a hard time dipping down in the cut however, she was always up for a challenge. Sending her gaze to the fire, she stopped toying with her fur stole and placed her hand where her flesh peeks out from the slit of her gown. This evening she did without her thigh-high stockings, opting for a smooth leg tended to with lavender oil that gave her skin a shimmering sheen. Letting her fingers caress her outer thigh, she aroused desires that had been burning brighter than the hearth all night. What Amon said was true, it was cruel not to worship her own flesh in need, and she hides her hand under her gown, tucking two fingers between her legs to ride against her folds, covered by sheer black panties. The outside mesh was moist, stick, and her fingers rolled against the slippery silk, wetting them. If anyone looked in her direction, she was seemingly attentive to the conversation, yet miles away at the same time.

Renlerian looked to Amon with a twisted smile. “There is this one bastard lord I would like to handle personally if you’ll allow. I’ll give you the details at our next meeting.”

Talavar reaches forward, settling what is left of his bottle upon the table, before turning to Amon once more, rumbling. “I will be off then, to redraft my contract, unless there is more required of me.

Amon ’s grin deepened… "By all means, wipe his bloodline from our land and take for your own what he was lord.” he looked over at Talavar still grinning. “Yes, we will see it tomorrow -and for the trouble- cover the cost of your scribe.” he nodded. “Thank you.” he looked to Renlerian then too Sybil. “Dear Baron… lest you wish to count yourself a voyeur. Perhaps it is time to leave. We will speak much in days to come.” and he leaned down and bit at Sybil’s neck. “Thank you both.” he glanced at them then settled all of his mind on one thing. Sybil.

(( Part One ))   Talavar leans down as he enters the human made inn, making sure to avoid the lowered Doorframe, his armor rustling softly with each motion, an elbow softly rolling as he loosens the internals straps, giving him some breathing room, seemed to be a  constant with those older models.

Amon was conversing with Sybil when Talavar entered. He looked up from her and offered a devious grin… “Talavar… welcome.” he gestured to the place of honor he had only recently offered a lesser man. “Join us… we would have words with you…” he paused with a wry expression. “… if it is your pleasure, of course.”

Sybil pours Amon a glass of wine and serves it to him with a smile, grabbing her other glass with a free hand. “A toast, to us, to Bloodcrown.” When Talavar enters the room, she motions for him to sit. “Enjoying all we have  to offer.” A spread of fruit, cheese, meat and liquor lay in weight on the table.

Narrowing his gaze, Talavar turns those silver orbs slowly across the room, Taking in those assembled, and noting those not. Finally settling on Amon, and her…Whatever he might be, he reaches down, unstrapping  his flask, he takes a few steps forward, turning his gaze downward as he remains standing, turning his attention to the pair for a moment or two before finally speaking.“I will hear your words.”

The inn was empty as it had been when Amon dismissed La’Vaye not an hour before. It was just the three of them and no-one more. Amon looked about noting the potential strangeness. “Yes well… I purchased the inn for the evening to preserve privacy. It’s proven quite valuable.” He admitted, offering the elf the wine Sybil had just poured him.  "The Baron is done. Though I am certain he will come again, groveling at Sybil’s feet. I will never trust him regardless how useful his ships are.“ he spoke with a clear conviction. "The fool has made his bed and lies in it alone under the pretense of his king’s navy and some ignorant, self elevation.” he ground his teeth then smiled at the elf. “I appreciate your coming on such short notice.” he looked to Sybil smiling darkly before looking back at him. “How does the badge of Admiral suit you as well as General?” then he held up a fast hand. “Not that I would diminish you with titles… you are a warrior after the nature of our people and I had hoped to make you general in the east.” he nodded reassuringly. “And a warrior, I need…” he smiled at Sybil. “We need.” he adjusted, looking back at the monster of a man. “Tell me your thoughts Talavar. I find myself ashamed for lack of knowing better of you. Please, take no offense.”

Reaching down for one of the darker bottles, the massive elf’s fingers graze the side briefly before taking it by the neck, and raising it. His flask already undone, the cap lying nearby, He begins filling flask, the soft guzzle of liquid echoes out in  the quiet of the room, save for the crackle of the fire, and the breathing of the other occupants. Once it was filled, he settles it down, reapplying the top, before settling it back in its hiding spot, with that out of the way, he slips his fingers  around the bottle once more, raising it to his lips, he stops, staring directly into the man’s eyes for a moment, gagging him.“I see you’ve finally taken it upon yourselves to deal true justice.” Turning his gaze from the man, down to the woman,  he dips his head briefly.“It is preferable, to say the least…I wish to speak terms, if this is truly your decision. Titles of Nobility come with the chains, as well as the freedoms, something our people know far too well.” HIs voice echoes, reverberating  in his chest plate, finally taking a drink of the fine liquor, only to lower it with a soft sigh, staring down.“I Request a pay raise, the jump from Security, to fleet being something…quite different than what I am used to, though will have it done,  should it need be…and where will my lands be?”

Amon sat the glass down and lowered his hand so that talavar could see his fingers calling his gaze to his but not demanding it - yet. “Pay? Gold and diamonds in your weight… paltry matters.” and he grinned darkly… “But I ask you… What better payment than to best this stain of a man on the seas, To crush him in a game he has mastered?” He searched the elf and had no doubt in his tone, he trusted the Kaldorei would be victorious. He was of superior stock in every fashion.

Sybil toasts the air, taking a sip of wine. Renlerian was a thorn in her side. One she was glad to do without. That man thought he was so clever, but that was farthest from the truth. Sitting their in silence, she wonders if he could think and chew  at the same time. Chuckling, she takes another sip of wine and looks to Talavar. “Baron La'Vaye threw away his life work all because he can’t control his undying love for Miss Night and we both know, she will never return those  feelings. Foolish man. Your lands will be on the Bloodcrown Isles of course, once we take back my family legacy.”

Amon took up the glass for toast but would not partake.

Talavar keeps his gaze on Sybil for a moment longer, before taking another sip, his eyes slowly swiveling as he likes, his lips pressing thin as he swallows, that massive neck bulging for a moment as his adam’s apple dips. Gaze finally settling on  Amon’s, that seal breaks as his deep voice reverbs through the inn once more, like a lone cry in a deep cavern, his voice always demanded attention, as did, well, all of the behemoth.“Hubris is a toy I do well to  abstain from. No, I will take my wealth as my reward, Though the satisfaction is undeniable.” Letting the bottle shake softy, shadows begin to play over him, and the blood red liquid within, sending a soft prism of crimson onto the titles below. Shifting,  he rolls his opposite shoulder, the soft squeak of leather once more sounding as he makes himself a touch more comfortable, able to react should the moment call for it.“ Both are acceptable…I shall be having my Contract rewritten once more. It seems  that I would do best to keep my writer on hand for such thing.” Narrowing his gaze, he raises the bottle softly, joining in to the toast.“For your Isles.”

Amon nodded raising his glass higher. “They are yours as well… nevertheless your wealth is secured.” there was an obvious hint of disapproval but he made no mention of its root. “There will soon be appointed captains as vessels are acquired and deals are stuck… you will also be required in the court of Crows to discuss plans with them.” and he leaned over the table. “I trust you will not suffer them much quarter, the price for their allegiance is not yet settled. Therefore, I will consider your plans alone, lest we become knotted in a clever trap. Father Crow -as they call him now- is deviously clever, a man I considered a mentor not long ago. He and his blood run deep into the belly of darkness and he should not be taken lightly.” he nodded in a fashion that requested response.

Sybil stands from her throne in the beer scented room and clinks glasses with the men. “Our journey has just begun, and sometimes a forest must burn to clear away debris, so new life may grow, that is stronger.” Sitting once more, she had very little to add,  knowing Talavar was a man of his words. Words that he had no problem tossing out if he saw problems arise. “As of now, until we take the isles, Baron La'Vaye retains his lands, title and vessels. Once we storm the castle, and the  crown is in our hands, then all moves will be made.”

Talavar dipping his head once, his hair shifts, nestling just inside of his plate, the raven-like strands shining softly. Speaking once more, a soft redness coming to his ears as he drops his gaze back to Sybil, a small smirk coming to his lips, it seems that the  alcohol -was- of the finest quality.“Your demands shall be met, and your words carried. As the Journey comes to a close, you shall not fear for the ports of the Isles. I do, however, request the choice of my lands come the time to lay claim to them.”

Amon looked over at Sybil.. “His title and lands are forfeited… I do not acknowledge them against such a pitiful creature. He is a fool in my brother’s…” He gestured to Talavar. “.. shadow.” he looked across the table at him taking in his aloof stance…  "…you will find My Love… we kaldorei wage war for sport… The Baron will fall before us as chaff across the threshing floor.“ then at Talavar’s words he raised his head. "No… you will be awarded that which you conquer, so is the way of the isles and by your word, you now agree.” he  looked across the table inflexible. “Lest I award your stubbornness with ire. I can bring on Father Crow for fleet alone hand him the keys to the free port Handel and the La’Vaye baroney in your stead.”

Talavar turns his gaze down upon the smaller Kaldorei, Dipping his head once more, though sport was the least of matters on his mind, he said nothing, Gesturing softly in agreement with his bottle before draining it, the last dregs of  salvation slowly dipping down into his wanting maw, forever thirsty for the drink of the gods, until the last, bitter sip lat torn.He Furrows his brow.“You’ll find stubbornness is simply a word when compared to me…as I said.” He  rumbles softly, his fingers tightening slowly against the bottle once more.“It shall be done.”

Amon rapped his chest twice in savage passion… “Excellent! Then we conquer!” he stepped around the table and met him, looking up at him but square and certain, not a hint of worry. “All that you siege will be yours… And as you dash this Baron against the rocky shore… all that was  his will be yours.” and he raised his hand offering a grip in accord. “And all that I claim, if you seek it and can best me when this deed is done.” he grinned in a dark, feral fashion glancing to Sybil. His eyes narrowed. “I will accept your challenge when the isles rest at my feet.” he nodded, hand still offered.

Sybil was almost finished with her glass of wine and becoming quite the lush this evening. She had every reason to celebrate, and made no qualms with indulging on the pleasures placed before her at the table. Crossing her right leg over her left, the slit of  her gown parts like a strong current, sending the length of her gown to spread apart in a quick wave, revealing a hidden garter belt that kept her thigh high stockings secure. “I have no want or need of weak men that cannot listen or carry out commands.  My dear, sadly the Baron’s fall will not hit as hard, seeing he has been at the bottom for so long.”

Talavar turning, he stares into the man’s eyes for a moment or two, before finally raising a solitary hand, clasping it hard into the others, tightening his grip as he dips his head, those kaldorei fangs baring briefly as he shows his support, it seemed the Behemoth approved, finally, spoke reason.“So it shall be.” He rumbles before turning to Sybil, acknowledging her words.“The Seadog shall finally meet the result of his ways..”

Amon met his grip with an equal and eerie response. “Then it is settled.” he jerked the enormous man’s hand into his chest and took it with his other… “As our race of old… we go to war with pride and lust. Not feeble words of declaration. He jerked at the large Kaldorei. "I pray  you survive your battles…” he whispered grinning. “…live and challenge me.”

Talavar baring those fangs once more, he leans down, meeting the man’s gaze unflinching, his words very much the same.“One can only hope the same of you.” Pulling back, the Hulking man nestles the bottle on the edge of the table, aiming to take his hand from the  man’s grip, looking between the two.“Is that all you require of me?”

Sybil rips a grape from the table and tossed it at Amon, simply to gain his attention so he could see the smile on her face that was birthed by his excellence in dealing with this evenings affairs. “My love, you speak like a man of the isles already. Talavar, you are impressive. Yes, one more thing that is required of you. Make yourself known to the court. You have reason to speak to our people. Make sure they know of your station.”

Talavar reaches up slowly, giving his chest a light pat, Nodding to both.“It shall be done.”

Amon released him and slapped him on the back.. “Lest you wish to drink and make conversation, I believe we are done this evening.” He ambled around the table to settle next to Sybil. He turned to face him. “Thank you… Admiral.” he raised the glass he had not taken a sip from since it’s  pouring.

Talavar nodding to each, he takes a step back, narrowing his gaze.“With a new position, new adjustments must be made, and preparations done, I shall be off to take care of them.  | Amon was cheeky this evening, and she adored the art of humiliating Renlerian. "A man of worth, seeing the job done. I breathe new air. I’ve lived too long to worry about people going against the grain.”

Amon ’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Certainly.” he offered the man a bow then straightened. “Talavar.. last thing…” he searched him grinning… “Where shall I have your wealth freighted?”

Talavar reaching down into his satchel, Talavar slips out a scroll, and Gnomish pen, one of the few things their people were good for. Unfurling the parchment, he jots down an address, settling it onto the table.“You may have it shipped here, or  stowed in the lands of the Barons -previous- home, whichever you choose.” He Rumbles, before dipping his head once more.

Amon nodded… “Then I will have our purchased man Amberstill see it done.” Amon assured him with a smile.

Talavar dips his head, before turning to leave.