Bound by Cursed Fate

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

(Closed for Monique Minx and Firmhanded Daddy)

The afternoon sun beat down on his battered plate armor. The gambeson beneath captured the heat and sweat alike, making wearing the armor feel like being slowly roasted over a spit in foil. Weeks on the road and in the saddle had left him with a perpetual taste of dust in his mouth and an ache in his bones.

Finding lodging with his particular affliction was usually difficult. Jobs were plentiful when people saw what he was capable of - everyone was always in need of a powerful warrior, but trusting that man under your roof was an entirely different story. He usually camped outside of town walls, in the fields, or might throw a few silver coins to a farmer for a hay loft.

Alric lets out a soft sigh. Patting the neck of the sturdy horse beneath him, he felt the mass of muscle on the beast's neck. She was a reliable horse. Gifted to him in the form of partial payment for a protracted service to a lord for a border skirmish, Kara was only five seasons old and had a bland temperament when not in battle, but on the field, she was fire and fury. He had seen her crush men's skulls through a helmet with a single hoof strike.

He knew that she was just as warm as he was. He could feel the heat pouring off her body. Her barding was just as stiffling as his armor was. He reaches out to grasp his water flask and tests the weight. He frowns. Not much left. He could hold the thirst at bay through discipline, but Kara had been working hard. He tips the contents of the flask out over her head to try to cool the poor girl down. "Soon, old friend. We will find you a proper drink. I promise."

He had been following the information he had been gathering as he had worked his way across the valley. The closer he had gotten to the lands of the D'Aurivere family, the more concrete the rumors got about their troubles, their need for reliable help. Though the exact nature of that trouble was never spoken of. Just that there was a dark secret that plagued the family. That was something he could relate to. Just thinking about it made the marks on the left side of his face throb.

His armor was in need of repair. He had been traveling and working his way along the coast, taking jobs as they came. Most small-town smiths wouldn't do repairs on his armor due to his... complications. He spots the castle rising in the distance, and he feels some of the knots release from his shoulders as he lets out a breath. "We made it, girl. Now the hard part. We have to convince them to let us in the door." Kara snorts and tosses her head. He gives a rich chuckle and nods. "Exactly right."

The moment he enters the castle gates, a chill runs down his spine. There was darkness here, and it wasn't natural. His left eye starts twitching the way it always did when he was in the vicinity of ambient magical energy. He looked at the gate guards as they approached him. They looked exhausted, like just standing at the gate was taking every ounce of energy they had.

"State your business." One of the men says sternly.

He nods his helmet-covered head as much as he can, thankful that the visor covers his marks. It seemed that, for whatever reason, the irrational hatred that affected most people required them to see the marks on his face. "Certainly. My name is Sir Alric Trent. I am here to speak to the Lord or Lady of the castle about employment. I have heard that there might be work for a skilled arm."

He immediately detaches his blade from his sword belt to offer it to the gate guard without waiting to be asked. They would peace-tie it, of course. No guards worth their salt would let a strange warrior capable of doing harm meet with their liege. As they bound his blade, a runner was sent to the castle to notify Lady Elysande that there was a knight at the gates asking for work.

 

[monique_minx]

"Mother! Mother!" Elysande rasped, panicked as her slippered feet made their way down the stone steps into the conservatory.

It was darker than it should have been, the windows yellowed over time. Ivy covered the cracked grey stone walls and grime coated the glass. It was spooky rather than bright or cheery as one might expect an indoor garden to be. The pond was a murky, scum coated stale pool, devoid of life. The once pristine floor was coated in dirt, dust, grime and twisted vines. It would have been beautiful in its day but it had been a long time since this conservatory had been maintained.

"Darling," Came the growled reply of affection from the shadows, "Whatever is the matter?"

From a darkened corner, a large black panther stepped forward. Spines that wouldn't have been out of place on a dragon, crocodile or a dinosaur ran down the centre of its back and two large, leathery black wings spread from behind powerful forequarters.

Elysande seemed to relax when the predator emerged from the darkness. She sunk to her knees without a thought for how the dirt covered floor might attach itself to her blood red velvet dress.

"It's happening, Mother." Elysande removed a long black evening glove from her hand which ought to be an unusual item to wear within the heat of the season. She revealed sharp, twisted, blackened nubs where her fingernails ought to have been. Claws had sprouted in their place overnight.

The panther seemed to sigh forlornly, "Is this the first sign, my daughter?" The panther's mouth barely moved and yet Elysande could hear her voice.

Elysande hesitated and then shook her head, "I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to worry."

"Of course I worry." The panther snarled and ruffled its wings before pacing, agitated, "what else haven't you told me?"

"Scales." Elysande breathed, "They grew beneath my right breast...on my birthday a few months ago."

She'd turned 27 and woken up to a smattering of gold scales sewn between her skin as if skin had never been there. The claws however had scared her enough to tell her mother, she was worried things were progressing too fast for her.

"Ely," Her mother said kindly, "you have many years before it will take you, sweetheart. You can still have a family and a life." The panther butted her head affectionately against Elysande's bicep, bunting her.

Elysande shook her head as a few tears fell from her brilliant green eyes, "Never! This will end with me, if there's no more blood left to take in this family then the curse will end!"

The panther cocked its head to the side, looking at her as Elysande stood up hurriedly, "You shouldn't live this life alone, daughter." She purred.

"It's the only way, Mother. Even Uncle can't convince me otherwise and he sends me suitors often. But I see how he pines for Aunt Eleanora and she's never coming back." Elysande lifted her chin defiantly, "I'd sooner see the castle crumble before my eyes than worry that I'll inflict this on a child of my own."

Only her direct bloodline was afflicted so her mother and aunt - her father and uncle who'd married into the family were unaffected by the curse...well, only insofar as they never became monsters themselves. They lost their women to it though and that alone, crippled them. When her mother had fully transformed, Elysande's father had taken off to the Thornwood in search of the Fey to plead with them and he'd never returned.

Elysande replaced her glove and wiped her eyes, "I'll visit with you later, Mother." She muttered as she walked up the stairs.

The panther merely watched her leave before turning tail and heading back in the shadows of the room. Elysande was only a few steps out of the door before a servant stopped her, an ashen faced old woman named May.

"My Lady! Oh, there you are!" She admonished Elysande, "I've been looking all over for you."

"Sorry Nanny, I just needed to speak to..." Elysande trailed off, looking back at the door.

May nodded, "I understand. You have a visitor at the gate requesting an audience."

"Oh, please don't tell me it's another suitor." Elysande groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose with a gloved hand, "because if my Uncle sends me one more bonny faced lad who thinks he can handle a sword, throw riches at my feet and announces his desire to kiss all over me, I think I'll throw up!"

May chuckled and shook her head which made Elysande more suspicious, "A sellsword?"

"The lads say he gave his sword at the gate without waiting for the asking, Milady. Claims he's a knight looking for employment." May shrugged.

That, at least, suggested discipline.

Elysande moved in the direction of her Study while May followed at her side, she entered and eyed the stack of mail on her desk. Requests for coin. Requests for aid. Yet another letter from a neighbouring Lord inquiring as to whether the Lady D'Aurivere would be receiving callers this season.

She'd burned that one.

Her mother had married for money, desperate to maintain the castle which had since fallen into disrepair after her father had disappeared. How he had managed to maintain it with the rumours surrounding their family, Elysande would never know. But her Uncle didn't have the skills of her father, he could barely manage the finances for the family and insisted regularly that Elysande find a husband to support them. She refused.

"How many have come this month?" She asked May.

"Three," May sniffed, "two left upon...arrival. The third never crossed the outer courtyard."

Yes, that had been an unpleasant morning.

Elysande sighed and her gloved hands touched the curved edge of the oak desk as she leaned over it. They needed guards. Soldiers. Men who wouldn't turn tail and run at the first whispering of something that wasn't entirely...human.

"Very well," She said slowly, "We will not send him away unseen."

May inclined her head, "Shall I show him to the lower audience hall?"

"No," Elysande lifted her gaze to the other woman and straightened decisively, "I don't think we need to be too formal, I'd hate to raise expectations. Show him to the western sitting room where we take tea with visitors, it's smaller and less imposing anyway."

May nodded and took her leave. Elysande sighed and adjusted one of her gloves with meticulous care.

"Let us see, then," She murmured to the quiet chamber, "What manner of man comes seeking employment at a dying house."

She flipped her wavy platinum blonde hair over her shoulder and stalked from the room, her gown whispering over the carpet. She made her way down to the chamber, it was modestly appointed with dusty tapestries and half melted candlesticks. It was a sitting room with a fireplace nestled against one wall. Not the grandest the castle had to offer but of impressive size nonetheless, the stone surrounding it was carved in vines as if to frame it. For now though, the fireplace was silent and dark as the heat of the Summer was oppressive enough. Elysande appeared with steepled, gloved fingers to appraise the Knight who rode without a banner.

 

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

The knight waits calmly next to his steed as he waits to hear if he will be received. He had worked his way along the coast, taking what jobs he could. He wasn't entirely certain what his fate would look like if Lady D'Aurivere turned him away. He might have to turn inland and seek out another military contract. He preferred to stay out of those. His skills drew attention in military engagements. He went from being just a nameless knight to a target. He had more than once found himself going from being gainfully employed to being led into a trap by his own employer due to his affliction.

He strokes Kara's mane as much to soothe himself as to soothe his long-time companion. This had to work. Judging by the state of the manor's outer grounds, the family was in dire straits. Good, mutual desperation would make for good allies, or at least a solid starting point for an alliance.

The runner returns as he is deep in his musings. He listens and lets out a slow breath. "The Lady Elysande D'Aurivere will see you in the western sitting room. Please, follow me, Sir." The young lad gives a fluid bow. Alric smiles behind his helm. They might be worn and tired as a house, but they still had good bones. The servants were well trained, even if things like the grounds and the manor couldn't be maintained, and the guards were slack.

"Thank you, lad. Might I have someone stable my horse? She has carried me far. She deserves proper care" Alric says smoothly.

The young man nods his head and shifts. Leading them towards the stable yard. It looked nearly as dreary as the rest of the outer grounds. A handful of well-tended horses but mostly empty stalls with rotted wood and rusted latches. He hands the reins to a stable boy and passes him a silver that he could scarcely afford. "See that she is fed, brushed, and any repairs are made to her saddle, tackle, and shoes."

The stable boy smiles brightly. That would more than cover the repairs, and they both knew it. If you wanted work done well, you paid well for it. Then he allowed himself to be led towards the sitting room. His mind wandered to what could afflict this house that would settle over like a cloud of gloom. It wasn't just a case of a barren heir or empty coffers. Now that he was inside the grounds, the magic was palpable. He could feel something like ozone on his tongue. He knew he was unique. Very few people were truly sensitive to magical energy like he was.

His left eye twitches as he climbs the stairs. He felt... something behind the walls. Like they were alive, as if they were moving. This whole fucking place cralwed like it was infected with dark magical insects. He had encountered his share of creepy things - hell, he was one of those creepy things, but so he could understand why this place struggled now that he was in the heart of the castle. Still, he knew there were pieces he was missing, things he didn't understand yet. Even people who couldn't sense magic would sense the general malaise that hung over this place if they stayed here long enough. It was too potent not to.

He walked into the sitting room. Towering in his dented armor, his full helm and visor still firmly in place. He froze when he saw the lady of the manor. She was breathtaking. She had fine features like a doll. Her beauty was pristine, which only made it haunting in this darkness. He moved into a smooth, fluid bow, the articulated plates of his armor clattering against one another softly as chain jingles softly.

"Greetings, Lady D'Aurivere. I am Sir Alric Trent. I have heard that you might have need of a worthy blade. That you might have unique challenges. I have letters of reference for loyal service from several houses, as I have traveled the coast. House Gunthar, Shan'dal."

He reaches into a long belt pouch and pulls out a scroll case. Pulling it out. Passing it to her. Within it is a collection of letters of service. Most of the houses she has never heard of, or from houses she knows are far afield, but there are several along the coast she lives on, including the ones he mentioned.

 

[monique_minx]

Elysande was often quiet and allowed others to speak more than she did, it gave her the best idea of what to expect. She hadn't expected him to be in full plate armour and still wearing his helm. A lightly amused smile danced across her mouth at the sight of him and she wondered what he might look like beneath it all. Before she had a chance to tell him he could remove anything though, he handed her a scroll with his references.

Efficient, then.

Elysande unfurled it and read down it in silence for a long moment, "Gunthar? I'm amazed you endured the man...or his 7 sons." She shuddered, he'd thrown many of them at her, each one more insufferable than the last.

She was glad that the eldest had reportedly found a match in someone else though Elysande pitied the woman because Magnus Gunthar had all the charm of a mailed fist and little regard for women beyond their utility. He'd managed to sour Elysande's mood within a minute of opening his mouth and it did not get better from there. Only May's timely intervention had come before she'd had to make a scene to exit the incredibly uncomfortable conversation. She'd have been better off making a scene because the House still thought they had a chance with her.

Ugh.

She rolled the scroll closed lightly and set it aside. Her attention returning to the Knight before her.

"You needn't be so formal. You must be sweltering in all of that, Sir Alric. Please don't suffer it on my account, I do promise you're not going into battle within this room." Elysande's smile lit up her face kindly.

Elysande gestured to the seats in the room, "It might be difficult for you to join me otherwise?"

Elysande took up a seat on the small lounge opposite another at that, arranging her skirts with a grace and poise that came naturally, "I'm afraid my estate doesn't have what one would call 'traditional concerns'."

She waited for that to land before continuing, "If you're seeking ordinary employment, Sir Alric, you may find House D'Aurivere a disappointing destination."