Difference between revisions of "Onine/Sesus Frei"

Revision as of 01:01, 10 November 2005

"Power can be taken, but not given. The process of the taking is empowerment in itself." --Gloria Steinem

Sesus Frei

"Yes, I will come at once." Frei had not changed his daily routine in nearly three years of coming to the Throne of Roses. Every morning he would rise from satin pillows and silken drapes and take his tea on the West veranda patterned with water lillies and irises that were both of the element of wood that the luxuriously appointed manse took its aspect and of the element of water that stood in the cardinal direction. The multitude of slaves and servants knew better to be in his chambers when he rose. Such things had been punished before, and never been repeated. No servant would dare disturb Frei during his morning diversion.

He had grown to love the sight of the morning sunlight beginning at the peak of the mighty Imperial mountain and slowly traversed down the great monument to then warm the rest of the Blessed Isle. It was a view of true splendour. Indeed the other verandas had many pristine views, such was a key of its design - others may deign to watch the sun itself, but Frei's tastes turned West when the dawn broke. There was something about the way the perfume of the flowers on the grounds below wafted up with the morning warmth to fill his nostrils that made the West veranda positively divine come dawn.

Such a morning would end with a light breakfast of perfect fruits picked from the manse grounds and light floury bread, its steaming heart the pristine white of Earth-aspected jade. Some at the manse would take an assortment of fine cheeses and a draught of light sweet-berry wine as well, but Frei did not partake of such things so early. His morning continued with a series of endurance and combat excersises with the arms trained slaves. He loathed such things and partook only as a matter of principal, but he was still an easy match to any of his unexalted opponents. He would pay more attention in future he vowed.

By now he usually darted inside for his breakfast. The young man was normally famished from the previous evening's activities, but he had taken no slaves to his bed chamber after his evening meal. He hungered not for food, wine or flesh that morning. What he craved could only come with time and patience - time and patience he had ruthlessly invested for many years which had at last born fruit. He could almost taste it.

The wheat coloured sunlight had begun to grace the treetops when the frantic servant had burst onto the veranda, no longer heeding the dire warnings the young dragonblood had voiced in the past regarding the disturbance of his repose at dawn. The servant, one of the Manse's most experienced nearly fell over the mahogany doorframe into a mess of elaborate serving robes. So much the better, it prostrated him faster before Frei, something the exalt noted in the back of his mind. The old man was nearly weeping with a cacophanic mixture of fear, shock and anger at the morning's discovery - and indeed the same emotions played across Sesus Frei's face as well as the servant bid the dragonblood to inspect the master's chambers.

Frei strode quickly past the cowering mortal and began to slowly tie the sash around his waist, closing the robe. The robe was of the finest fire-orange silk, belted with a gauzy red sash the colour of his hair. The servant climbed up awkwardly and scampered along behind him mumbling anxiously to himself as he ran awkwardly in Frei's wake. The dragonblood needed no guide, he knew the manse more than well enough that he would not suffer a mortal to lead him. In an act of feigned carelessness perhaps brought on by his haste, he knocked a feather-stuffed pillow free from a silken lounge that decorated the chamber. It's fall was soundless on the the stone, yet Frei heard it and the awkward reflexive motions of the servant bending to scoop the pillow and place it onto the lounge once more. He smiled inwardly to himself. Yes, that servant would indeed be one to keep when he purge this manse's staff.

By now, most of the Manse's staff was in a strange sort of silent uproar. Everyone knew. It amused the dragonblood how they acted like a scurrying swarm of ants that just had their nest kicked. Some ran about aimlessly, some gathered in little knots with no regard for their stations to gossip and chatter - yet not loud enough to disturb the guests. A curious few Frei made note of continued their work despite the bizzare brand of chaos that now plagued the Throne of Roses oppulent halls and corridors. He had made so many careful arrangements to take control of the Manse, he wanted the transition to be as simple as possible - hiring an entire brigade of new servants was certainly not easy. If it came down to it he would put someone *else* in charge of *that* irritating task.

"I see you did not keep this especially quiet." The dragonblood noted with disdain, studying the activities the mortals busied themselves with or lack thereof. He clicked his tongue on the inside of his cheek chiding the old servant.

"Erm...Forgive me Young Master." The servant bowed as he ran along behind the exalt, nearly toppling a precious vase. The man was losing Frei's good graces. "One of the serving girls discovered it while changing the linens in the Master's private bathroom. I'm afraid the news spread out of control and there was little I could do. I beg you, forgive me!"

"What's done is done." Frei replied taking the wide sweeping staircase to the upper levels of the Manse and stopped at the vast jade door. "We must work quickly to contain this mess and ensure that no unwanted rumours are leaked out before we are able to apply some... truth.. to them, yes?"

"Yes of course, Young Master." The servant cowered behind him.

"Go. Now." Frei dismissed the man with a graceful gesture of his hand, and at that very instant the servant no longer existed in his mind. He may have heard the scraping footfalls of the old man hurrying to do his bidding - if he had deigned to. However the young dragonblood's mind was occupied now with many thoughts, but they were many focused thoughts. He traced the beautiful laticework of the door and took the time to relish the moment.

"Savour your victories - but not for too long. Is that not what you told me, Uncle?" Frei murmered to himself. The sweet taste of blood and power was just on his lips. He could get the barest taste of it, but the meal lay just behind an inch of the finest crafted jade on the Isle. Power was never earned, despite what some may say. You also do not take another's power but you create it yourself. For the very act of taking it was empowerment in itself. Power...so close. Bah. Why wait? Frei smiled after ensuring no servants were spying on him, and pushed open the doors...

The expertly installed jade swung inward in pure silence, the only noise was the wind playing upon silk curtains and the liquid sound of a spilt pool of wine that the door carved a line through. It was the deepest crimson of spilt blood. Frei took a brief moment to compose himself, then stepped into the great chamber, the heavy scent of musk, perfume and spent drugs clouded the air and added an unnatural heat to the room. A few chimes tinkled together above, the glint of gold and crystal only barely visible behind a staggering array of fine silk knotted and hung from the ceiling.

Frei picked his way carefully between upturned pillows and sofas that had likely been upturned when the slaves discovered what had transpired. The young dragonblood smiled, kicking over one of the circular ones tasstled with viridian silver.

"It has been difficult, Uncle." He said to the deathly silent room. "For three years I have practiced placing the expressions of shock upon my face. I almost feel the emotions I display now - almost! I only hope that I am able to maintain such a facade on the day of your funeral!"

The dragonblood laughed melodiously, striding quickly over to the enormous low bed where his uncle entertained a vast number of nubile slaves and imbibed a staggering array of narcotics regularly each evening. Frei dipped low and plucked a perfect red rose from one of the few vases that had remained standing through the slaves' hasty exodus. Roses never smelled appealing to the exalt untill today. He pirouetted happily then jumped effortlessly onto the bed, stalking across the vast expanse of green silken sheets and feather-filled coverings to where a telltale mound underneath betrayed the existance of a large body.

"You have cared for me so well, nurtured me, trained me. I have been like one of the roses that you so painstakingly care for in your garden. You should be proud, I have grown beyond the gardener. It is now time for me to bloom. I promise that I will care for them as you once did, they and I are your legacy. Dear uncle, you have treated me so well and I appreciate it more than anything in the world. Can you forgive the fact that I did not look into your eyes as you died?" The dim shadows darkened Frei's face as he siezed a corner of the covers and pulled it aside with a flourish, like an artist revealing his greatest masterpiece. "No matter-!"

Frei's smile faded into an expression of disbelief when he saw the unfamiliar overweight corpse that lay spread-eagled and naked upon the bed. A fair skinned maiden lay beside him, her head twisted backwards and her eyes open and vacant. The exalt clenched his teeth as a new sound broke the silence of the room - slow, mocking applause.

"Good... *very* good." Sesus Nagezzer taunted in his all-too-familiar gruff, nasaly voice as he limped out from concealment behind silken curtains. Nearly three Fangs of the Slug's heavy armed elite soldiers likewise threw aside drapes, furniture and tables they had concealed themselves behind. They formed a rough circle of gleaming metal and savage silver spearpoints surrounding the two dragonbloods in the chamber. Frei may have had a chance against a third of them - if he was lucky. But against thirty men and Nagezzer - he didn't stand a chance. The trap was sprung and the prey was fairly caught.

"Why wont you just be a good old lizard and *die*" Frei growled under his breath and throwing the rose upon the corpse with great force.

"You forget Boy..." Nagezzer smiled, stroking the long tendrils of his beard. "I am far smarter than you." He walked a lazy circle around the young dragonblood, clasping his hands behind his back. Despite his lame leg, he was capable of surprising grace, weaving easily through the plush debris. Even without his soldiers the elder dragon had nothing to fear from the young exalt - even if Frei had the foolish will to strike back physically. The Slug was not as crippled as he often let on, and he knew that Frei would play smart - for what good it would do him.

Frei for the most part stayed silent, not interrupting the fat old worm's tirade of taunts and gloats. It was...polite.

"I am not altogether unaware of Nurok Seed Venom... Yes, I DO know what you tried to use, and I know well how. A deadly poison, a deadly poison..." He shook his head chiding Frei, the rolls of fat under his chin rippling with the motion. He stopped suddenly and turned to Frei, continuing sharply. "However, if introduced in an exacting amount for a long period of time it builds up in the body which becomes slowly imune. The poison itself becomes a part of the body that literally seeps out of the pores! A person can become a walking agent of death, their very bodies a toxin to everyone else. It is extraordinarilly effective however impractical, as finding the precise ammount of venom to introduced is near impossible...only a matter of trial an error can discover the correct amount. Then you sought to place your deadly little package amongst my slaves, a rather inovative plan - but I have seen it before and know how to counter the poison by emulating the boundless fortitude of the Wood Dragon!"

The old man beamed, but his smile was devoid of the human emotion the gesture represented.

"How many women must you have killed to discover an amount that would not have killed the victim. Ten? Twenty?" Nagezzer studied the young dragonblood's eyes for a long time, then decided at last. "Fifty."

To their credit none of the soldiers so much as moved at the suggested number of bodies in Frei's wake. On Nagezzer's command they stepped in and linked their spears around the younger dragonblood's neck with a clattering chorus of metal and birch. They pushed the exalt roughly to his knees to allow their Master a clean killing blow.

"So you know about Nurok Seed Venom, uncle. You have proved your wisdom to be far beyond mine." Frei replied, his voice strained around the locked spearshafts that pressed against his throat. "At least tell me how you knew."

Nagezzer drew a slender dagger from a scabbard at his waist. Despite the gaudy oppulence of the room, the silk, the gems, the gleaming armour of the Slug's finest troops - the gleaming platinum leafed blade was the only draw for Frei's eyes. Nagezzer drew it back to peform a backhand slice that would cut the young dragon from ear to ear and smiled coldly. "No."

"No?!" Frei screamed desperately, "Dammit uncle, at least give me that before you kill me!" It was the first time he had raised his voice over its carefully measured tones since the Slug had taken the young exalt under his wing. With a rippling whoosh of silk Nagezzer swung, but the sharp and distinctive sound of a blade slicing through soft flesh did not come. Instead the harsh slap of flesh on flesh resounded about the chamber as the old dragonblood savagely backhanded his enterprising young nephew, snapping the man's head to the side with blunt force.

"Kill you?!" Nagezzer exclaimed with genuine surprise and hurt that it was suggested of him. "I would sooner destroy a vibrant oak than a virtuoso such as yourself! There is far too much promise and potential in you to waste yet. You've been plotting my death as long as I have known you - such detirmination and guile is impressive in one so young." The younger dragonblood looked up at him and licked ineffectively at the small line of crimson that made its way to his chin from the corner of his lips. The young man levelled The Slug with an impassive stare. Frei wasn't certain what Nagezzer was playing at though he knew he did not like it. He did not allow his uncertainty to show on his face, he would not show weakness.

"No." Nagezzer said, slipping the dagger soundlessly into it's scabbard once again, smiling broadly. If the ancient exalt was angered by anything that happened he did not show any sign of it. "I will figure out *some* way to salvage you. However I will not reveal just how I discovered your duplicitous activities. I know you Boy. A failure such as that will gnaw upon your soul and creep on the edge of your mind and cause uncertainty in everything you do. You cannot act against me for then you will never know when, where and how you slipped. And that my Boy, is punishment enough."

"You expect me to thank you now?" Frei lifted his head defiantly, bringing the last shreds of his arrogance to bear on the old worm.

"Of course not. As a matter of fact I should thank you." The Slug replied, and continued when the young dragonblood frowned in confusion. "I did not realise I was such an effective tutor." The old man beamed with satisfaction when his nephew's resolve finally cracked and he showed a certain amount of disbelief.

"Now then I shall expect you at noon for a light lunch. For now I have a certain nephews plans to take control of my manse to disarm. Release him." He ordered.

At their Master's command the soldiers released the locked spears around Frei's neck and then each took five steps back, lowering their heads in respect for the exalt. The dragonblood stood and straightened his robe, not giving the soldiers and his uncle the benefit of watching him rub his sore neck. He glared at The Slug as he picked his way over the upturned pillows and furnishings and fled out the door and into the hall, suitably and abjectly humiliated. When the dragonblood's footsteps faded into the background noise of the manse Nagezzer sighed to himself. "What will I do with that boy?

"Vogul." He commanded, and the old servant that had lead Nagezzer's nephew into his trap appeared from one of the multitude of hidden doors to the main chamber.

"Yes master?" The man bowed low, his grin was smug but carefully measured so as not to appear disrespectful to his master. The Slug allowed the unusual display of emotion to slide this once. He too was having a fortuitous day.

"Ensure that someone watches the Boy at all times." He commanded, surveying the room. "And have this disaster cleared up at once. I will take my morning meal in the pavillion."

Name:    Sesus Avire Frei
Aspect:  Fire
House:   Sesus
Concept: Brutal powergamer
XP Left/Total: 0/0

Attributes