Paper Thin Sleeves in a Mire of Thorns

[Armand Temi]

In a way, Slava felt like Vain Hollow had not aged or changed one iota since she was an eighteen-year-old courtesan in Kaine Zambrano’s court, but she knew that the dark citadel had been rebuilt by the Prime Designate of the powerful Epicanthix’s empire. Still, as she sat in a part of the mountain castle not too far off from the Throne Room where [member="Darth Vornskr"] was holding court, it was as though some of the furnishings were exactly the same, which she knew could not be true as she knew the original ancestral home been completely destroyed and now stood on the summit and inside of Blacktalon Peak.

The stone walls were utterly soundproof, high arched windows not designed for vistas, but just to let a little bit of natural light in and to draw the eyes to the art and artifacts of the Zambrano Dynasty as though the world outside did not exist. And it really doesn't in Vain Hollow, mused Slava.

For awhile, as she waited, she tucked herself up on a plush divan besides a roaring fire, smelling vaguely of wood and an unidentifiable fragrance, not malodorous but exotic just the same. Eventually, Slava grew bored and began playing a minor-keyed tune on the keybed which sat near the entrance of the room. The Baroness was a little rusty, but it was a passable composition. Although in her heyday as a courtesan, her keybed playing was immaculate as she often entertained the God-King’s courtiers. She never did play anything lively as far as she could remember. There was something strangely melancholy about the citadel as though the ghosts of the tortured and slaughtered were caressing your psyche, reminding you of their harrowing plight.

But none if this deterred Slava. If anything, she was determined to reunite with Kaine Zambrano, and offer a gift in the form of a deed which sat nearby on a table. And the more time passed, the less awkward her keybed playing was, her strong fingers delicately skimming along the black, green and white keys as though weaving on a melodic loom.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The God-King was a very busy man these days, what with a war to be fought from the Colonies to the Mid Rim accompanied by the increasingly frequent appearance of more and more of his deranged family showing up on his doorstep. He didn't really mind either, of course, war was his craft and he excelled in it most expertly. Plus the appearance of more family only further increased his hold on the Epicanthix he ruled over, and it allowed him to shuffle his cousins, children, uncles, and aunts into positions of power as a form of bribe not only to keep them loyal but also to ensure that his agenda was carried out. Still, he loathed at the fact that many of his family tended to be sycophants, eager for every morsel of his attention and praise, but he could stomach such depravity so long as it served his benefit. But he found that tolerance being tested day-in and day-out as such meek submission didn't stop just at his family, but extended to many of the government officials that handled the nitty-gritty of lower politics and other matters of civil administration.

So when he received word that his old flame, [member="Slava Gerhild"], had decided to drop in for a little one-on-one visit he welcomed the change of pace. He had just departed from the welcoming meeting for his niece, Veronica ([member="Darth Gilda"]), and had quickly changed into more casual clothes consisting of a rather simple maroon silk tunic, brown linen trousers, and black leather boots. Although without his armor he felt out of place with his surroundings, for these walls that had been constructed with stone and mortar were so fragile, and the fine fabrics felt uncomfortably soft on his scarred flesh. He itched to hold a weapon in his hands, to feel the hilt fit perfectly into his palm, and to feel the dark elation as that weapon bit deep into armor and flesh. Even now he could smell the odor of freshly spilt blood, and as he licked his lips to cleanse them of their parchedness he swore he could've faintly tasted copper.

He longed to indulge himself in the chaos of war, for it was a pleasure that far exceeded the lust he held for his buxom wife Invicta despite the softness of her curves and her unique taste. He was so wrapped up in his silent worship of violence that he had hardly noticed the sound of Slava's exquisite playing until he had soundlessly entered the room. He too enjoyed music in a way, he had the capacity to play just as well (or perhaps even better) than Slava could even if her skills had rusted over the years. But for now he stood there in silent adoration until he found the opportune moment to speak:

"I haven't heard that tune in a long time, I'd almost forgotten how it went."

 

[Armand Temi]

Slava looked up from under hooded, brown eyes, her ring-finger hitting an off-note on the keybed, exemplifying her surprise at being caught unaware by Kaine Zambrano's entrance.

"I'm surprised that I remembered it myself, but as you know from your many conquests, everything requires practice." She didn't elaborate on what type of conquests. For many in the galaxy love and war were quite equal challenges, the spoils however different. Slava knew that Darth Vornskr's passion was battle, subjugation and bloodshed. There would never been anything else that rivaled his attention.

But while the God-King was older, there appeared to be no signs of him slowing down. He was nearly as she remembered him - exquisite tailored garments and long, jet, black hair, she presumed flecked with grey but yet, it was not. The Baroness, however, had filled out from a plump and ample courtesan to a fine-boned woman with a recognizable Pancanth heredity - the dark eyes, the pale cheeks, the lithe, corseted figure.

His gaze unsettled her but that was nothing new.

"Hopefully I can distract you for an hour or two from your real passion," she continued, rising and beckoning him over to where the deed sat awaiting his perusal.

"Like most of your courtiers former and present, I have a gift for you."

Then, akin to the family in the throne room, she knelt before him. Slava had taken a few liberties by speaking prior to this act of fealty, but he'd caught her off-guard, and still, she could not forget the formalities. Instead of looking him in the eyes, her glance wandered off to the flickering fire, the soft light casting an orange glow on their features, the shadows creeping inward and outward as the fire undulated. "Thank you for granting me an audience, Your Excellency. I do hope Invicta is healthy and well." There was no place for jealousy in the Zambrano court. Only loyalty, favoritism and undying sacrifice of body and soul to the King of Panatha. However she hoped that once the gift of land - and all of its peculiarities - passed into Darth Vonskr's hands, he would entertain her request.

Because the deed was, of course, a currency to buy favor from The Black Iron Tyrant.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Truthfully he didn't care much for formality in such private company, such things were reserved for public and official functions much like the gathering that had occurred earlier in the day between his family members and some unforeseen guests. He wasn't even wearing his crown, nor did any ornate jewelry adorn the rest of his body save for a rather plain looking silver ring on his right hand's ring finger with a single triangularly cut ruby set into it. Yet despite his lack of gaudy aesthetics it was the allure of the darkness in his soul that drew so many people to him like moths to the flame, and that same darkness had long permeated every stone used to build this magnificent citadel. Nowadays his shadow spread across Panatha like a looming storm cloud, brimming with inevitable malice and bringing forth an astral tension in the air that seemed so close to the verge of finally breaking that it was unbearable, yet it never did.

The miasma of the Dark Side clouded Panatha entirely, and like Dromund Kaas before its ruination at the hands of the Mandalorians there were frequent lightning storms that would last for weeks on end before dissipating. But there was one perpetual storm that hung over the Iron Mountains that never seemed to ever leave, casting all of Vain Hallow into darkness. Perhaps that was the intention, or perhaps it was merely a byproduct of the atrocities being committed on a daily basis within these very walls that caused the Dark Side to swirl around the citadel like a tempest, plunging all of its inhabitants into melancholy. All except Kaine, of course. But was he the puppetmaster of the storm, or was he too merely an extension of the eldritch? It was impossible to say, even for him, but whatever the reason he seemed to feed off of the misery that was created by his mere existence and found that calamity to be sweet.

"Indeed, Invicta is well" he finally said after a moment or two, "Although she has been somewhat reclusive as of late. Perhaps it is the weather..." he trailed off, his interest now fixating on the gift that Slava had brought to him. He chuckled, a low purr in his throat, and lowered his hand to cusp her chin and slowly allow her to rise from her kneeling position so that she stood tall before him, and forced her to look into his unnatural eyes whether or not it perturbed her.

"What have you brought for me, dearest Slava?"

[member="Slava Gerhild"]​

 

[Armand Temi]

Slava’s eyes closed when Kaine’s rough-skinned hand touched her chin, and then guided by his motion, she rose to her feet. And while the Citadel did have its miasma about it, she felt that since she was eighteen and spent time at court, the darkness had infected her bloodstream like a sublime poison. Nothing had been the same for the Baroness since being touched by the God-King as she was, giving birth to and raising his daughter. But this transformation that had gone on inside of her was something she had not feared. She’d embraced and cultivated within herself, slowly and carefully through her own passion and through a project which most close to her thought to be a folly of the Baroness. A waste of resources.

Something a strange, reclusive hermit would cultivate.

But Slava had other ideas for what the land held within its shadowy, brooding bosom. As the Butcher King would now find out.

She plucked the deed from where it sat on the table and held it out to Darth Vornskr. “This holds the title to property of mine that I’ve been tending to for quite some time. I started it for Natasa because she loved animals so much. Until I found out that she was… well, let’s just say experimenting on them as children do when left free to roam. Child’s play really. Observations in life and death, testing the boundaries, nothing sordid, mind you. But after awhile, I needed to re-evaluate the situation as I had quite a few dead animals on my hands. Imagine the stench,” she said, her hand fluttering to her face as though to cover her mouth. But she dropped it back down to her side. “Not to mention the predators, they attracted.”

“But that’s when I realized that if I collected dangerous beasts, Natasa would learn to stay away from them and focus her… talents on other things.” She smiled, wondering if Kaine had heard of her daughter’s reputation.

“It’s a nature preserve filled creatures such as the Maalraas, the Raquor'daan, the Subteroth to name a few. There are thousands of predatory species within the confines of the preserve. And now it’s all yours.”

Slava sat down on the divan, stretching her long legs out, admitting only a small bit of her bare ankle to emerge from the turreted hem of the gown. Her brown eyes appraised him boldly now that he had done away with the formalities. He was a man who did not need adornment. Even in simplicity, the Butcher-King was at once fearsome, yet strikingly handsome in his sovereign way. Much like one of the beasts in her Nature Preserve. The Alpha Male. King of the Iron Mountain.

“Oh and there are acres of land that go along with the preserve, rich with ore as well. While the preserve itself is vast and quite fanciful, it lies in a fog-shrouded valley and the foothills surrounding it contain precious minerals and resources, making it profitable for someone with the means to excavate it."

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He extended a hand to grasp the crisp upon which the deed was inscribed and began to read along as Slava described her predicament. It was amusing to hear that Natasa displayed the same tendencies that he did back in the heyday of his youth, although he reckoned that those early atrocities were committed as a way to vent the hate that began to bloom in his breast in reaction to his parent's overbearing and abusive nature. The mention of larger and more fearsome beasts being moved onto the reserved piqued his interest in the proposal, for it was commonly known that he possessed a menagerie of fiendish monsters locked away beneath Vain Hollow that included creatures from the mighty Reel to Bull Rancors plucked straight from the wilderness of Felucia. Generally he had collected such creatures to be used as subjects for his wicked Sith Alchemy, many of them not surviving the process but those that did became true monstrosities.

So the prospect of acquiring more creatures was an enticing one, and the abundance of ore in the mountains and hills was an added bonus. "That's quite an offer, Lady Gerhild... But I have to wonder. What do you desire in return"

[member="Slava Gerhild"]​

 

[Armand Temi]

As expected the Black Iron Tyrant was pleased at her gift. Well, it was quite a generous swath of land that no Panathan lord would turn away, much less the ruler of Panatha himself.

The Baroness finally rose after her old paramour had assessed the deed. Hard to believe we were so young once, she thought. Even Darth Vornskr, if just for a few mystical moments, was younger than he was now. Although time would not show it.

He looked exactly the same as when she'd bedded him as a teenage courtesan, her only role to please the King and sire more Zambranos.

She snorted like some equine animal for a moment at the King's question. It wasn't derisive sound, merely a passing sound.

"Immortality," she said, the words tumbling from her lips as impossible as they were. But that is truly what she wanted.

Slava wanted to remain alive so she could serve The Butcher King and bear children to continue his legacy.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

At first he was quite taken aback by her request, a rare moment for the God-King to look genuinely dumbfounded if only for but a fleeting moment, and then he let loose a laugh. "What an ambitious woman! You haven't changed a bit, and now I remember why I fancied you so." And then he was suddenly behind her, his movements too fluid and swift for the Human eye to properly comprehend, and he wrapped both of his strong muscular arms around his old lover with as much tenderness a man of his violent nature could muster. He took a moment to appreciate the intimacy of the moment, allowing his hands to wander before he finally whispered his gruffness into Slava's left ear. "But immortality comes with an awful price, my love, a toll that is wrought in blood. But if you are so eager and willing to pay such a tribute then I will happily accommodate your wish..."

Vornskr clearly remembered his own trials and tribulations in discovering the key to immortality that didn't involve directly gambling with his own will over that of another's, a ritual he discerned from the creatures of the blackened pits of Chaos as they wailed their damnation louder than any hurricane. Even now a wicked and cruel idea formulated in his mind, a solution for the dilemma of sacrifice that always came with his method of reincarnation and a method to truly prove Slava's loyalty to him and him alone. He pulled away and eagerly turned Slava around to face him, his face lit up with the malice of his genius as his mouth curled into a wicked grin.

"But first we're going to have to acquire something that only you can provide." And what was that thing that Vornskr so desperately needed now? Why, it was the same thing that Slava wanted to provide for him ever since she first met him.

A child.

[member="Slava Gerhild"]​