[M] Destrin Enters the Spider's Web

[Tolvo]

1 AD, August 10th

The Bawdy Wet Nurse. It was out of the way, criminal, and had an ill reputation. The place was a den of filth and evil. The perfect place for a secret meeting to take place. It had all been spun by the Curator, Arael Zandramas, of the Deathborne. He planned it and sparked the meeting with a message that exchanged many hands. It started in the hands of a cultist, then went from criminal to mercenary to soldier and eventually to Destrin himself. A private letter which had been sealed offering a meeting between the two.

Inside the tavern people were loud and obnoxious. They fought, drank, and even sang. But in a small alcove in the back half covered in shadow was a table meant for the two. It was out of the way, isolated, and no one seemed to wander near it. This spot was intentionally set up this way as the tavern owners knew at times secrecy was desired by their customers. So they supplied for the demand. A bawdy miss owned the place, a former wet nurse who had set the place up ni the first place. Two thick guards stood by the door but they didn't pay attention to the faces of whoever entered.

[Evening Rain]

Arael arrived at the Bawdy Wet Nurse with a quaint smirk on his lips. Of course, a meeting with the famed Serpent of Lux Pass could not occur in a more appropriately named establishment. The Curator of the Midnight Tower wore a glamour that framed him as a somewhat unsavoury-looking man in a long tattered fur cloak. Beside him, Kanon wore the illusion of an ordinary mercenary swordswoman. She was to drink and keep quiet watch from the bar, just in case Destrin decided that this would be an excellent opportunity to capture an enemy commander.

Arael lurched into the tavern with a sour smile, leering at the occupants through squinting eyes before his gaze fell on a shadowy alcove, where the baron Destrin already sat. Arael had been slightly late to the meeting, albeit intentionally. He shambled toward the table and grinned down at the man. He was bald of head and clean-shaven, showing off many prominent battle scars. Despite his look of general contempt, he didn't look out of place in this shifty bar.

Arael slid into the chair opposite the baron, and immediately his hunched shoulders dropped, his leer faded, and he held himself straight, his face becoming a mask of dispassion and cool inscrutability.

"Good evening, Destrin. It's a pleasure to meet you in the flesh. I have heard... many things about you, not all of them flattering." The lich extended a hand, using the other to brush matted, dirt-brown hair from his face.

"You may call me Valyk. I've come a long way in the hopes of reaching a mutually agreeable arrangement between the two of us."

[Eddren]

Destrin returned the gesture from the stranger, and nodded gruffly. A false name, likely. Damn. He was already at a disadvantage. But that could be reversed. The man was late to his own meeting. A setup for an ambush? No...There were better ways to set up an ambush. Besides which, if the man knew so much, he had to know Destrin could easily escape just about any ambush. No...He'd have to be taken from behind. But he couldn't counter too early--No need to let him witness the specifics for himself.

"Him?"

He'd witnessed just the other day a Vampire turn into himself. The only thing that gave that Vampire away was a piss-poor impression and a blatantly poor tactical decision. Destrin had no clue who this General was really supposed to be, and an alias meant nothing. This could be literally any Vampire. It could be the Vampire from before. He had no way of knowing, not until he'd found a way to confirm details that the Vampire wouldn't know...Yet. Or a way to get a reaction from it. Vampires craved blood. Hunger would work. He'd just have to keep an eye out for the reaction.

"Ah'll call ya stranger, if it's all tha same ta ya." He folded his hands and narrowed his eyes, "An' whatever unsavory things ya've heard were compliments ta my ears, o' that ah can assure ya." He gave a curt, professional smile. Something he wasn't known for doing around his associates. But then, he wasn't in danger around his associates. Rarely was he actually in danger on the battlefield. Here, he was. So he'd use all the tools he kept in a box for these very moments. "Now, pardon my sayin', but ah didn't exactly come 'ere ta deal wit' a normal man. An' ah'm suspectin' yer gunna be workin' very hard on makin' this mutually agreeable, given our...Mutual knowledge. So ta speak."

[Evening Rain]

Mutual knowledge? Arael turned the phrase over in his head. Had Destrin somehow determined something about himself? Perhaps... but if so, his information must be limited. The commander surely did not have spies entrenched so deep in Mersus. If he did, the gossamer cult would have reported it months ago. His information suggested that Destrin was an ordinary leader. A remarkably gifted one, but not so knowledgable about the world that lay outside his Southern Kingdoms.

"Not an ordinary man, no. You came to speak with a commander of the Deathborne, and here I sit." He examined the baron's reactions, noting how the calm demeanour he adopted was quite different from the one his battlefield reports had suggested. So he plays the game as well.

"Of course." The lich acknowledged softly.

"What you faced at Joetal was but a fraction of our power. Our crimson lady was simply testing your defenses. Currently, we are engaged against the Empire. After assimilating the Ryudeshi into our fold, we have decided to focus our might on the Empire, crush their leader - take their lands for our own - and attack the Southern Kingdoms from the west ant the east. When that happens, you are surely doomed. Not all your cunning, and all your power could stave off such a tide of undeath."

Arael folded his arms on the table as his eyes became slightly more intense. "Our leader wishes to extinguish all life from this world, but I am... less fanatical. I propose that rather than battle each other, we form an allegiance. As it happens, I was born in Schwarzmarsh, before joining the Deathborne. If we join forces against a common enemy, I believe I will be able to convince our leader to spare you. Your people will be allowed to die of natural causes, with the understanding that eventually, undeath is the end. It is not such a bad fate... and in exchange the Southern Kingdoms will have the southern half of the Western Empire to call their own, without any interference or assault from Mersus."

[Eddren]

Destrin folded his arms. This one should know two things. First of all, that to one who has fought on the battlefield before, the term 'commander' is something none in command would bat an eyelash toward. There were so many different levels of commanders on the battlefield that the word by itself meant little. That suggested that this one was trying to keep honest without giving away all his cards. That was good. You lied for temporary advantage. You told the truth for something longer term. That meant this had a good chance of being an actual negotiation.

The second key piece of information here that they both knew was that the undead were animated by magic. He hadn't seen the vampires using the magic of the dead, but then there was nothing saying they couldn't. A Vampire necromancer? Perhaps. He used the possessive when speaking about the crimson lady. That intuited one of two things--She was either an asset, at which point this man was far higher on the ladder than Destrin had initially been lead to believe, or she was his sovereign, which was...Well, really par for the course for these kinds of games. That was beside the point. If the undead were animated and ruled by magic, that made him a necromancer, with potent magic. It meant there were things he might yet be able to learn from this man, things that could become weapons.

He spoke up, this time not to 'Valyk', but to one of the serving wenches. "Oi! Pork cutlets, if ya would!" Before turning his attention back toward this...'Valyk,' mulling over the idea. There was a problem. First, the Deathborne were allied with one of his enemies. That was inexcusable. Second, allowing the Deathborne onto their soil could spell the end for all life as he knew it. It was a dangerous game to play. Third, and finally, they had assets he needed. Strongly needed. Accepting this would tip the favor in their hand too heavily. He might as well be surrendering. "Well, Valyk, that's certainly a proposition ya've made. Ah'm no King, so even acceptin' would require some...Creative moves on m' part, but ah'm sure ya already know that. A couple o' questions afore ah start talkin' in earnest, if ya don't mind. Mostly hypotheticals, 'ere. Let's say ah don't agree ta these terms. Refuse 'em outright. Yer 'Red Lady' going to bring all the Vampires ta tha gate, an' try winnin' with more'n some puppets this time?" He rose an eyebrow, "Personally, ah'd be afraid ta' go in wit' footsoldiers that go slackjawed when my mages take a step too many back. Might not go so well fer me, up in tha front line. An' after yer done takin' down tha Empire--'Ow do ya plan on takin' down tha rest? Tha Lizardman Hordes an' tha Elves might hate each other's guts, but they'd hate yers even more. Ah could imagine them allyin' pretty well."

[Tolvo]

After Destrin had finished his words a woman with a low cut dress tunic and bodice brought over a dish full of pork cutlets. Nearby a large man with an axe at his side slammed his fist on his own table. "MORE! I NEED MORE!" There was an empty plate before him and the server came over hesitantly. "I'm sorry, that man over there got the last pork cutlets for a while." With his eyes bulging out of his head the man stared at Destrin then screamed at him. "You better enjoy those, you whore! Your whore food, that should be mine! They were meant for me!" His head slammed down on his table as he openly wept over the food. Everyone was doing their best to ignore him. At the bar Kanon ignored the man and enjoyed her drink.

[Evening Rain]

Destrin spoke with purpose, choosing his words well. Clearly there was a brilliant mind behind that scarred face. A mind that Arael longed to understand better. The irony with which Destrin said his false name proved that he was aware of its truth. That was to be expected, really. In honesty, Arael was more than a little surprised at how amiable Destrin was in his discussion. The lich had expected the Southern strategist to be more than a little blunt, had prepared to accept insults with grace. But here they were speaking cordially, as equals.

"I was led to understand that creative measures were your forte, Destrin. Was I wrong?" He chuckled softly and raised an eyebrow at the drunken man who wept over his pork cutlets. He pointedly ignored the food, and let his eyes slip back to Destrin's. "I cannot speak for Rozella, but I believe after her initial probing strike she will return to the Imperial frontier. Clearly you're a difficult nut to crack. The Mersian leadership would no doubt prefer to have opened up another avenue of assault before attacking you directly. After you alone remain as a bastion of resistance... then I don't doubt that she would send everything she has at you." Arael recognised the subtlety of the word game they were playing. A back-and-forth of information, implied meanings and careful evasion. He relished it. It was his home.

"As for the lizardmen and the elves? Let it simply be said that our arm is long. The lizardfolk have built some level of rapport with our people. Surprisingly, our philosophies are not so dissimilar. I am confident that we will manauever around the lizardfolk, and use them to crush the elves. After that point... who can say what fate might befall those savage hunters?"

[Eddren]

Destrin rose an eyebrow. 'Creative' was a rather flattering term for his combat style of choice. Still, for the time being, there were many more things to explore than what others were saying of him these days. He picked up a knife and fork, stabbing down on the cutlets and bringing the knife down. Intentionally, he cut it a little close and let the knife cut into his finger. "Fuck!" The general shook his head, sucked on the finger for a moment and looked up to Arael with an apologetic look. It was really more a test, to gauge Arael's reaction to the sight of blood. It'd give him a better indication of what he was dealing with, here.

It was obvious he'd let slip a morsel of information--Enough, likely, to allow for a redirection of the conversation. While the Vampire Queen's name would come in handy, it was of no particular use to him, and the man had otherwise handily evaded the probe. Still, it was a piece of useful information. Better yet, he knew now that there was a split in the leadership, and that Arael did not agree with these tactics. Did that mean they'd allowed him believing he'd fail, or that he had come here as his own representative? That was something else he'd have to find for himself.

That the man was so open about maneuvering the lizardfolk was unnerving, but not something he couldn't counter when the time came. "An' so they sent you ta be tha one ta crack tha nut, then. So Rozella's filling in yer place as the commander of the Deathborne invading the Empire while we're talkin' 'ere?" How he answered this may yet present a better picture of the situation than previous attempts. That he'd ignored the throwaway line about the necromancers was unfortunate, but...Something he'd have to continue on against regardless. "An' must be an aweful long arm, too." The servants they used had to be either the living or vampires--Either way, the fact that the Deathborne had managed to reach this far into their continent meant that they had an intelligence network in place. "Though perhaps ah shouldn't be surprised by that. Even tha living want tha living dead, after all."

[Evening Rain]

Arael's face did not shift remotely at the sight of the blood, and indeed he asked "are you alright, Destrin?" He genuinely thought the man had cut himself, but it should be noted that not even a flicker of emotion or empathy displayed themselves on his features at Destrin's injury.

The baron's words were telling. He was not directly discussing plans for an alliance. Not yet, in any case. He was far more interested in guaging Arael's true motives. More about his people, perhaps? It would make sense, for an inquisitive mind.

"I was sent here because I convinced my superiors to attempt a more diplomatic approach. Sometimes subtlety is more effective than brute force, no? If I fail to reach an agreement here, I may be recalled to the Imperial front. Rozella and I will work together to crush the Imperials. It may be months, perhaps years before you need to worry about our wrath. But should our negotiations be fruitless, then I'm afraid to say that our wrath will fall upon you in time. As I've already mentioned, I'm not particularly enthused about that outcome.

"And I'm afraid that's all too true. We really are a murderous race, aren't we?" Destrin was asking clever questions. The sorts of questions that could strip away some of Arael's current advantage in information. Such was the price of 'peace', he supposed.

[Eddren]

The look on his face was actually trouble. It meant this man kept a good mask. Too good to be human, perhaps, but he didn't know if the same held true for Vampires. Actually, come to think of it, he guessed he did. The Vampire Queen had sighed and complained and given away information. They were too arrogant to bother with such subtleties. That suggested something different. Perhaps this man was an undead...A very well-made Undead. Perhaps with a body slain by poison. With some sort of special magic to keep the body from decaying. More likely, it was a ghost possessing a body. Of course, it was possible to be illusion magic, but he had yet to see the Deathborne use magic anywhere near so subtle, except for Vampires, who used an innate magic.

Still, it was clear 'Valyk' was done answering questions--Likely he'd hit close to the core of a lot of issues. He'd have to work with Grecious to go through the information later. Most helpful was the indirect admission that humans had been involved. It would make his job easier. A lot easier. Narrow down the search a great deal. Also of great use was the world together. This 'Valyk' considered himself to be Rozella's equal. The suggested a great deal of respect for the woman. But that did give him the idea of the kind of man he was dealing with. The negotiations here suggested his style of warfare. Should he face this 'Valyk' on the battlefield, Destrin would be ready. If he could figure out the secret to his nature. "So ah guess ah've pried enough inta yer motives, let's talk about this agreement. Let's start off wit' tha first thing. Ah'm not goin' ta throw down with' ya. Ah won't send forces ta yer aid. Don't really support tha extermination o' mankind. More ta tha point, ah think ya've prob'ly figured by now, jus' not allyin' with tha Empire an' seein' yer undead slain at tha Shores would be a pretty big boon in yer favor. Your people get stronger the less ours do. Same ain't true fer us. Now's tha best time ta strike." He paused, "So an alliance ain't happenin'. But--A non-aggression agreement, ah can do. Ah obviously can't jus' let ya turn our people inta undead without their permission, but ah will talk wit' tha leadership about loosenin' up on tha kinds o' religions a person can practice in tha Kingdoms. An' tha choices they can 'ave fer their deaths. Ah'm pretty sure you can do plenty wit' that. So, so far that's two things ah'm willin' ta do on yer behalf from what ya've asked. In return, ah want that lastin' peace yer claimin'--Fer all our territory at tha end, no matter how big that might be. No point in lettin' ya take half tha continent if yer jus' gunna take tha last half at tha end. And second, ah want two things, related closely. Ta keep tha POWs we got from tha last battle, an' tha salvage rights ta tha battlefield from yer invasion. Technically, tha second one's ours by right, but no reason not ta make it official."

Destrin took a bit of the cutlets, chewed for a little while, swallowed, and finally continued. "An' finally--This won't extend ta tha Southern Dominion. Actually, this only extends ta tha Deathborne on one condition." He looked Arael dead in the eye and smiled, this one somewhat more cold than the professional smile he'd given earlier. "So long as yer fightin' under their banner. Should ya ever decide to cut bonds, tha agreement goes wit' you." The implications of that should be clear as day.