The Falcon's Talons
In Drahmin’s eyes, there were few things that were more obnoxious than a righteous Krytan. Those devout followers of the six with tales in their heads of heroes long dead. Persons like this could not wrap their mind around the way the world truly worked. They did not understand the necessity of “evil” intent as he did, and in his mind that was just fine. The longer they sat on their knees with hands and eyes outstretched towards the sky for answers, the more pockets he clean out and expand his ever growing empire. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in the god’s existence. It was more along the lines that he thought of them as deaf cunts that had forsaken this place long ago to return to where it was they had came from when they saw just how hopeless Tyria truly was.
Triskell Quay was not the “quietest” of ports in all of Kryta. With constant threat of Krait’s attacking to increase their number of slaves, you figured Lord Rochan may of picked a better port to try and smuggle in his cargo of flesh, but that false sense of security flimsy coin purchased was enough to let the elder lord sleep at night. Did he suspect Drahmin would ever try to over reach him? Probably, though long after the marriage pact to his daughter was completed and he was too old to rise from the bed on his own. By then he would have back up plans and ways of living out his life in peace comfortably, and while the man had never done anything he knew of to intentionally harm his house, he did have the insolence to ask a price to reinstate the pact, rather than understand the lone heir’s plight.
To be fair, the man’s plan had been all but perfect to keep his operation moving along. The only exception to that being he had the ill notion of trusting this information to his daughter, figuring his stern hand and loud voice would simply be enough to keep her in line. There was however a new alpha male in the woods that was business and such liabilities were just enough to leave your neck exposed. With how quick she was to give up her father, Nerissa would have to be watched at all times if this did come to pass, for what was saying that if the opportunity did present it’s self that she simply wouldn’t do the same with him. Ambition was the most dangerous and reckless of creatures. It would be a shame if he need show her the blade and do any damage to that young, perfected package, but if there was anything this life had taught him was that it was the pretty ones who could do the most damage.
Lord Drahmin watched from a high hill as Seraph swarmed the docks like a tide that consumed all that stood in its way. Even from this distance, the Jade Falcon could see the harbor master trying in vain to slow their encroach and turn them away. Though he could not hear what, he could only assume that this man would be going down with that ship once enough investigations had commenced. The right words in the right pious ear had given him everything he needed to take complete control of this situation with House Rochan and take everything that was theirs. Drahmin had been smart enough to warn the lord of the house once in their first meeting, but such did not seem to sink in. Now, was the time to force the man’s hand.
One glance over his left shoulder showed the younger, solemn face of his younger brother, Atace. A handsome youth on the exterior, but a hollow shell within. Those emerald eyes seemed dulled without the life to back them. Should he ever learn the secrets of this house, he did not know how he would react. This situation especially seemed to touch home with the young man however. Drahmin half turned, resting his hand on his brother’s cheek to touch fore heads with the man. This was meant as a tender sign of affection between elonian brothers that was meant to comfort the man, though it was truly hollow when it came to Drahmin. “I will make sure they go free, brother. If you’d like, I will let you strike their chains yourself..” Atace gave no answer to his brother’s words as their heads parted, Drahmin’s hand patting at his cheek before dropping back to his side. “No word from House Lu, my brother?” The man’s face may as well been made of stone, but this time he chose to reply, giving a meek shake of his head from side to side. “She is not the end all, sweet Atace. They have repeatedly offended your honor and mine so this silver haired devil may have his way with her..and every man in the Reach. Such headaches you do not truly desire. I promise, I will find you an even grander match should this come to fail.”
Once again, Atace gave no reaction. He only stood there with arms crossed, looking down on the scene below as if to burn a hole through the hull of that ship and set all those within free. “His ruthless aggression is on the battle field, mine is behind the curtain. Two sides of the same coin” Drahmin thought to himself as he pulled his eyes away from his brother. To his opposite side, a figure clad in plate armor with a helm in the shape of a demon let a muffled grunt escape as some sort of signal. “I suppose you are right, Bruce” he mused more to himself than to anyone else. He turned towards the “mute” guard. “Get our house guard ready, and I will play the part of the concerned friend. Let the mummers show begin.” He knew Atace and Bruce would stand there and say nothing in his presence, so from here on in it would be all his work. Lord Rochan would have no clue what had happened until it was too late. Soon, the falcon’s talons would be wrapped too tightly around the man for him to escape, all that was left was to stride down to the harbor and deliver the killing blow.