#ceruszael

[ceruszael]

Meet the Castellan

► Name ➔   “Ceruszael.” ► Are you single ➔ “Yes.” ► Are you happy ➔   “I am content.” ► Are you angry? ➔  “Rarely.” ► Are your parents still married ➔   “Deceased.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “Present day southern Silverpine Forest, Lordaeron.” ► Hair Color ➔ “White.” ► Eye Color ➔ “Lichfire.” ► Birthday ➔ “No longer relevant.” ► Mood ➔ “Calculating. Inquisitive. Disillusioned.” ► Gender ➔ “Male.” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Winter.” ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Morning.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “No.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Yes.” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “Death.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  “Yes.” ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No.” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “No.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “Yes.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “What’s left of it.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Love.” ► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Dogs.” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Neither.” ► Day or night ➔ “Night.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “No.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “No.” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Yes.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Often.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “Eyes.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Shorter.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  “Intelligence.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Neither.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “None remain to get along with. Once, yes.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “A vexing existance.” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “No.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “No.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “No.”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “No.”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “What passes for it, Adhelin.”

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “None living.”

Tagged by: @adhelin

Tagging: Any of y’all nerds what haven’t done this and are reading it.

[lady-rian]

Death Knights Deliver Hope

((Continued from HERE))

Upon her arrival at the flat in Stormwind, Rian made no effort to find Theron or Laila, as she left the guards at the door and made her way directly to the office. Rummaging through the desk she found the arcane orb Thaylynn had used to relay information to and from Ravenshollow. 

She’d left the Keep reluctantly. After Thaylynn’s vow to protect it with his life, the guilt weighed heavy on her mind. She’d asked to go. To oversee their forces should the threats and findings come to blows. The Lord Marshal couldn’t be in two places at once. When it finally counted, the gate fell. It fell on her watch.

Looking over the device she spoke the words to summon the magic to life, expecting to be met with the image of Caterina, hoping it would be Thaylynn instead She relayed the information she’d managed to gather in the brief hours she’d been in Stormwind.

“The Castellan of House Holt is on his way. Watch the skies for a Frostwyrm. He has also sent a missive to Marshal Von Gacy. Should any forces be near they may make their way there. I also spoke with the Baron of Neverbloom. His men are also in route. “

If you are able, I need to relay the following numbers to him by morning at the latest. The number of Kestavin men, numbers of the Empire forces, armaments, equipment for both sides. And lastly an estimation of how long you expect to hold.Once we have those numbers I will contact the Baron and send a follow up to Marshal Von Gacy.”

“Just.. hold on a little longer. Help is coming and I’ll find more if I’m able. Keep them distracted, hold the keep... they will be cut off from behind.”

(( @householt @thaylynnkestavin @ceruszael @imordnir @lailanak @theron-valteric @percy-von-gacy @harboson-c ))

[ceruszael]

Absence

“You’re always busy.”

“So, you’ve been traveling then?”

“I miss our time standing outside the Embassy.”

It was true; Ceruszael had been largely absent of late. Or rather, absent from House Holt and its myriad bannerman. The fallout after the Legion’s defeat and Argus’ banishment from Azeroth’s skies offered a momentary respite amidst endless conflict. Naturally, the void had swiftly been filled. As more and more mercenaries and loyalists to either faction either flooded south to Silithus or began stockpiling arms and armor for the next battle, Ceruszael took a different approach. He could have returned to Acherus. Mograine and the Horsemen all but reigned there, and doubtless would dictate the actions of the Ebon Blade. Whether as jailors or generals, that was yet to be determined. He could have thrown himself fully behind his duties as Castellan of House Holt. One meeting with the new Marshal had already seen him exercise authority in dispatching the living to fight.

To die.

There was necessity in the task, but it was largely a distraction. He was uncertain if any among the House, even those Acherans who fought for Holt colors or others who considered themselves close to Ceruszael, knew the depths of his mind. How truly detached he felt from most of the events and people around him. That it was difficult to relate to them remained an understatement. How could one relate to another when they were so fundamentally different? No rest. No respite. No nourishment from food or drink. No fatigue from physical exertion. All day and through the night, he was aware. It should have been mentally taxing, but even this had changed. He neither grew weary nor did his thoughts become muddled, but the price remained. Its true nature remained hidden, though he suspected madness and denial to be the eventual end to that path. Presuming he had not already made too many strides down it.

No, Ceruszael’s focus was elsewhere. He needed… reflection. Insight. Such that the living could not provide, nor however would the damned bound to flesh. Walking among the living would ever impart their flaws, even on those who had seen the end of their cycle. Doubtless the Frozen Throne still had supplicants worth conversing with, but he had made a decision upon liberation to keep distance from the Lich King’s dominion. Thus the path remaining was to seek that insight himself. Frequent forays into the Shadowlands had become a dangerous gambit. The undead, truly, belonged there about as much as they did walking Azeroth’s surface. So Ceruszael needed a way to access that realm’s knowledge without traveling there directly. A window. Controlled, maintained, and stable. Enough spellcraft involved travel to and from the Shadowlands, or channeling its energies. Its myriad passageways allowed his travel via Death Gates. Adapting all of this had been his primary concern these past months. The Legion had given him more – from necrolytes and lesser dreadlords – for they had seen undeath on a thousand worlds over. One truth became abundantly clear; Ceruszael needed a medium and location from which to operate.

Both aspects received substantial research time. The former needed to be receptive to necromantic and shadow magics, moldable and conductive. Initially he had investigated the Necropoli of the Scourge, as well as Icecrown itself. These were largely materials chosen for durability, utilized for war and animated by vast soul engines. Then, more delicate instruments were considered. Blood orbs, scrying mirrors, and other elaborate tools of dark spellcraft. A merging of reagents and architectural practices would be required. Innovation, as well. At length, and after trial and error, Ceruszael felt confident he had found a usable substance. Grave dust from the burial of magically attuned individuals mingled with powdered Scourgestones, condensed and subjected to the roiling soulflame and select magics of a runeforge, created a uniquely capable necromantic attuned building material. A black, almost featureless stone-like substance which gave an eerie spectral tint to any light it reflected. The question remained; where to put it?

As it turned out, he didn’t need to go far. Deadwind Pass has long been inert to the activities around it. Only its southern end saw any travel, and even then activity among the Violet Eye had lessened. Though Karazhan had become somewhat of a focal point during the Legion invasion of Azeroth, once they had been pressed back to Argus it was again populated merely a handful of Dalarani guardians and intrepid scholars. Among the living, in any case. When one peered through the veil they saw the truth of the matter. So much death suffused the region. Spectres wafted in and out of solid rock, flickering between the realm of the dead and the living. More corporeal creatures gathered near Karazhan, but these were monitored and disposed of by the Violet Eye. Armed with such knowledge, Ceruszael traveled to the northernmost lip of the great ravine which split the Pass lengthwise. It was here, he began his work. Here, he laid the foundation for the structure from which he would delve the depths of death as he had never before been able. There was neither a shortage of bones to raise nor spirits to bind to them, not so soon after a war nor ever here in Deadwind. With supplies scavenged from warzones against the Legion as well as requisitioned from the Ebon Hold, and mindless animated forms shambling from the earth slaved to his desire, Ceruszael began his work.

(( Tag lineup; @householt, for vague mentions @adhelin @vladimirbaustent @rinohaholt ))

[ceruszael]

Ceruszael's Tarot

You can be a bit intense and find yourself drawn to dark and mysterious things. You’ve been through a lot and have probably seen your fair share of endings, but probably cope with it through humor. On top of that, you are surprisingly easygoing — you’re open to change, try not to let past baggage weigh you down, and seek out new experiences.

Tagged by: @adhelin

Take Quiz Here

Tagging: @cordeliaeresholt @thaylynnkestavin @reneeblackfyre

[ceruszael]

Burdens of Power

Following the evening’s events, Ceruszael found himself traveling south from Stormwind to beneath the shadowed boughs of Duskwood. Part of him felt something akin to guilt for leaving Adhelin to deal with the remainder of the House personnel circulating the embassy, but not enough to prevent his departure. The Ebon Knight walked the distance across Elwynn and the Nazferiti River. He needed the time to sort out his thoughts, as they were rather beyond the norm. Ceruszael was given to pondering the nature of undeath, philosophical viewpoints surrounding the Scourge, Acherus, and their interactions with the living. He dwelled on the benefits of the wars various factions engaged in when weighed against their costs. He contemplated his own position within the Alliance, when in truth he owed more kinship to the Forsaken in Lordaeron. All of these thoughts, however, were tied to his current existence. As evening turned to night he found himself instead contemplating his past.

The cause, he knew, was the issue brought to him concerning Percival Thalsian and Sarahni Rennith. Mere days after Adhelin announced his position as Castellan of the House he was forced to wield the authority of such a position to mediate conflict. One claimed to be assaulted by the other, who in turn objects to any involvement. Such was the hubris of the living that whichever one was at fault was not only at ease lying to Ceruszael’s face, but to their Matriarch’s. Ample opportunity had been given for the truth to emerge without investigation or interrogation. It seemed, however, that whichever one was guilty of deception was content in obfuscation.

Ceruszael’s methods for unearthing the truth by force had been denied, as he suspected they would. That in and of itself implied a measure of guilt, but could almost as easily be interpreted another way. Percival and Sarahni both were well versed in mystical arts, though he had conceded to interrogation by banshee possession while she refused.. The former was arrogant enough, perhaps rightly so, to assume himself capable of deceiving the banshee to reinforce his claims. The latter was cautious enough to truly wish to avoid the risks involved in this method. Consent had been required, however. He very much doubted if such methods were forced upon them that it would remain House business, even if others within the House could be made to see his reasons for employing them. At length, Adhelin decided on trial by peers. It may yield success. It may not. In a House not unused to shrouded secrets and double dealings, it was difficult to tell.

Shaking his head, the Castellan took a moment to regard his surroundings. Ceaseless steps had carried him to the Raven Hill Cemetery. Mindless creatures of the dead wandered around him, recognizing perhaps on a primal level the presence of an apex predator of their breed and giving him a wide berth. To a point this made them more respectable than the fools he had dealt with earlier. Ghouls, geists, and skeletal constructs had no ambitions to override good sense, no arrogance to blind them, no ulterior motives to justify deception and betrayal. Yet this was due to mindless subservience. To recognize them as worthy of respect or admiration, they should have had the potential for ambition, arrogance, or motivation and yet overcame them for the greater cause they had aligned to.

As we used to.

Ceruszael remembered the Lordaeron of his life. Before the Scourge. Before demonkind ravaged the land and lay siege to the World Tree. He recalled the unbreakable code of honor binding those of his deceased household and those allies they had made. The institutions and systems put in place to ensure unbiased judgement when tribunals were forced to mete out justice. These did not break under their own weight. They were not misused and tarnished by corruption. An outside force rampaged through the kingdom, laying low all who crossed its path. Betrayal had killed the man who was now Ceruszael but it was a betrayal of men seduced by power, not the failings of his family’s legacy. Dragon banners flew over armies who marched against the damned. Those sworn to it, or trained beneath it, gave their lives. Others who thought themselves above it had injected themselves as a venom which had been realized all too late.

If only we had survived. If only we had endured.

Teeth grit in anger, Ceruszael turn his head skyward and unleashed a pained cry of frustration. Duskwood’s shadows coalesced in his rage, forming over his crimson warplate to replace it with segmented armor of shifting darkness. Spectral blue wisps of lichfire were replaced with a writhing baleful amber tones. The dead nearest the Ebon Knight were lifted into the air, spines arched and mouths agape in a silent howl of unimaginable agony as the same dreadful magics bled from within them. The whole scene held in eerie silence for a handful of seconds as discipline and control gave way to a raw expression of ire. Its end came with the utter obliteration of the dead caught on Ceruszael’s wrath. Their decayed forms were slammed against the ground, bones shattering and exploding in all directions as flesh disintegrated to ash and bound spirits shrieked their last, banished from torment on Azeroth to whatever horrors lay beyond. Darkness dispersed from the Ebon Knight, leaving him again armored in crimson with trailing ethereal teal contrails clinging to his form.

Moments passed with his eyes closed as the Castellan composed himself once more. At length he turned to depart the cemetery, unconcerned at the signs of his passing. Latent unquiet spirits would once more animate the shattered forms he left behind. They would again wander without path or purpose, feral and restless. He would return to Stormwind to carry out the duties he shouldered willingly. Perhaps a measure of wisdom from his life could be injected into this madness. If not, the least he could be certain of was that punishment would be delivered to mitigate the chances of this madness repeating in the future.

((Tag Lineup: @adhelin @thalsianiii @sarahnirennith @householt for mentions.))

[ceruszael]

A Path Unfolds

(( 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.”

(( Tag lineup; @adhelin @householt @harboson-c @thaylynnkestavin @cedrickholtstories @cordeliaeresholt @tiomodm ))

[ceruszael]

Family Meeting

((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.

(( Tag lineup: @cedrickholtstories @cordeliaeresholt @householt @harboson-c @percy-von-gacy @adhelin @thaylynnkestavin ))

[ceruszael]

Trouble in the North

Acherus was hardly a peaceful place these days. Many of its Knights had recently returned from the conflict on Argus, among them the most bloody handed members of the Ebon Blade. These were beings who thrived on bloodshed and carnage, and had sustained themselves upon the crucible of the demon world. Now, with no war to satisfy them, they boasted to their fellows and sought the next avenue of death to sate an endless thirst. Yet, it was here that Ceruszael traveled to following the meeting of nobility. Among the dead he feared no interruptions. For all their bravado and violent tendencies, there was little satisfaction in venting against Ebon Knights. As well, Ceruszael traversed the necropolis to its highest point where others rarely went. There he now stood with hands clasped behind his back, staring with unblinking lichfire orbs into the roiling seas bordering the Broken Isles.

Today he considered all that was said in Lady Addington’s halls. A considerable gathering of nobility and military leaders had been called, all at the behest of a returned northern Duke. He recognized a number of those present. Theodore Bennas and Percival Aldenhardt-

Dewdancer? Von Gracy?

-were the two most notable. And vocal.

And brash.

But there were others yet. Some with fealty to the Holt banner, more besides who he did not know but seemed to hold some manner of strength in manpower. These were the sorts Areius Ironborne sought to aid in the reclamation of his lands. Ceruszael wondered if perhaps the man regretted some of those he had sent dispatches to. Or had he even summoned them personally? Precious few gave any consideration to the Duke’s requests for soldiery and support before pledging them. And yet the same expressed doubts and concerns as soon as another voiced them, expressing hesitation and disdain. Proposed solutions to issues raised came from this direction and that, with rushed decisions agreed to or problems dismissed out of hand as matters for another time. Soldiers committed to a cause they did not fully comprehend, for reasons not fully understood, against a foe of undetermined strength. How such men came to command hundreds if not thousands was not a mystery Ceruszael ever thought he’d unravel.

There were repercussions not considered. Bennas and Von Gracy held rank among Stormwind’s military and actively served. Both, as Ceruszael understood, also counted themselves among the nobility. If lines were blurred between personal holdings and Kingdom resources, any forces dispatched by the pair could be considered a Stormwind military action. This invited a chain of command beyond the likes of which Ironborne might desire. It might incite the Horde to action, as his lands were near their borders. The latter fact had been raised and, as Ceruszael recalled, dismissed as a necessary risk. It was at least admirable that these men acted out of a sense of honor. It remained questionable that, when one Lady present asked after the benefits of aiding the Duke, she was scolded for thinking of personal gain. The entire venture was naught but personal for the very man who called the meeting.

A rightful heir to the land. What right does he have, if in his absence it fell to disrepair with another’s iron fist now ruling?

Even those who claimed to pledge aid for no gain would be sure to call on the Duke later should the need arise. Alliances forged were often far more beneficial than immediate recompense. But with no promises either way, no contracts written, and an uncertain road to liberating Ironborne land… it was difficult to say if the risk was worth the reward. Compounding this was the disorganized mess of headstrong military men in that room with a variety of personal stake and agendas. All told, Ceruszael saw far too many potential dangers in this endeavor to willfully recommend aiding Ironborne with force of arms. The tangled web of potential allies to his cause, dangers of the region, and lack of information regarding the man himself all spoke to the only certainty being trouble.

Trouble worth keeping an eye on.

(( Tag Lineup: @householt @areiusironborne @percy-von-gacy @theodorebennas @sunoffairhaven for mentions. ))