Penny for your thoughts(Invite only)

[Diala]

Kalista sat, looking at the beautiful Altar in front of her; the priest had finished his sermon and had long since retreated into the back rooms of the church. The people that had attended as well, long since parted, leaving the Queen alone with her own thoughts. Her personal guard, as always were set out side, as per her request every time she attended the church. This was a neutral ground to her, and as such, she would not allow the menacing appeal of her personal guard to in any way, make the patrons feel uncomfortable in there presence. The Captain of her guard, Circu was allowed the night off, though how strictly he took her orders to take such an opportunity, she would not know. He was his own creature and as thus, she never knew when or where he might show up, even when he was off duty it seemed he was always on as well.

The church was quiet, the candles that lined the walls and adorned the chandelier far above, were flickering quietly filling the enclosure with the scent of heated wax as well as casting eerie shadows along the walls and leaving dark corners for any manner of creature to hide, though, Kalista felt no sense of danger in this place, she never had, nor, she thought, should she ever.

The past few weeks had been a strain on her, as well as Cassius and all the guards. The Necromancer, Master she had foresight to assume, had been busy indeed, giving her general and many of his soldiers plenty to take care of, as well the arrival of the Dark Mage Kaldryn had upset the balance of peace and serenity they had enjoyed in the lands of Karador for now well over 100 years. Kalista sighed heavily at he thought on the oncoming war. Yes, there was no mistaking it, there would be another war, but as to how quickly it was to come to a head, no one would know for certain. Kaldryn, as always, had made his presence known and then disappeared again, though Kalista knew this would not be for good measure, on her behalf and that he was simply biding his time waiting for something before coming forward, she only wished she knew what. As for the Necromancer, no one knew what he looked like, or even his name, this was most disturbing. Even the Head Nurse at the hospital that he had attacked couldn’t give a proper description and as far as Kalista knew, she was the only one that had even had personal contact with the foul creature, aside from the two orderlies, but they had been so frightened, that one even now, still resided in a mental hospital over in the next town, evidently too scared to even speak, Sahara was her name, if Kalista remembered correctly. Yes, far too many things had began to happen all at once and right now, the one thing she would like more than anything, would be to know the face of the dark evil creature that she faced, the Queen and Overlord to the Karadorian armies could not stand the fact that this Master Necromancer has eluded her for so long, and not even the most skilled of her spies had even been able to report as to whom this being was.

Kalista sighed once more and then pushed a renegade raven lock out from her view and tucked it behind her ear as she remained, sitting, her face forward, looking at, but not seeing the altar as her mind worked through these and many other thoughts in her mind, the fire light from the candles reflecting a fiery light in her tired onyx gaze.

[Decimas]

The sun had only just set in the evening sky, and Decimas had had to go out of his way to make a daylight trip into the city. The lockdown order on the city was quite the hastle for the necromancer, but he easily managed to make due, especially with as much pride as it gave him to have the entirety of Karador under curfew over him. And how much fun he had been having, walking past and facing, even talking to so many soldiers of Karador, none of them having the slightest clue they were staring death in the face.

Decimas stood under the evening moon, looking upwards at the towering cathedral in front of him. He wore his cloak, as usual, with his hood hanging well over his face. He had tucked his sword into its sheath upside down along his back, hiding the entirety under his black cloak as it never even swung as he walked. After a few moments of staring up at the towers of the church, the necromancer looked straight ahead and started to walk casually up the large stone steps to the enormous wooden doors on the front of the church. Without even hesitating at the sight of the guards that were standing around on the steps, Decimas grabbed hold of the door handles and pulled them open a bit more than enough for him to walk through. Once he was inside the building, he turned to close the doors, and then quietly walked through the large worshiping area.

Looking about the hall, he saw only the one woman sitting in the whole place. Without paying much attention to her, he continued walking, the hood of his cloak hanging over his forehead and almost past his eyes. The shadow under the hood was only the natural, but there wasn’t much light in the hall to begin with. Glancing about as he walked, Decimas saw the confessionary and turned to move towards it. Finally reaching the little booth to the side of the main hall, he stopped and stood for a moment infront of the little door. The whole booth wasn’t much more than the space it took to sit down in, and Decimas hadnt been in one since he was a child, since before his mother died.

After taking only that slight pause, he opened the door and stepped into the confessionary. After quietly closing the door, Decimas slowly took his seat and waited a moment before tapping on the wood between himself and the pastors booth next to him. Only a second after he nocked, the little wooden cover to the gridded window between the two booths slid open, and he could see the shadowed form of the priests face. “Forgive me father,” He said in a low tone after a momentary silence, “For I have sinned.”

“How long since your last confession?” the preist returned quietly.
“Twenty one years.” He said simply.
“What confessions have you to make?”
“I have taken lives father,” Decimas responded, “A lot of them. I have taken men and women from their rest, I have robbed their graves of their bodies, and I have risen the dead.” The priest seemed frozen in disbeleif through the gridded window. Decimas looked at the holy man and rose to his feet as the priest looked straight into the grid rather than forwards from his seat but still said nothing. “Gods will is not my own.” Decimas said as he slowly and quietly drew his sword from his back and moved it under his cloak to where he placed the tip of his blade against the wall that divided the two men and paused for a moment. “Forgive me father, for I will sin.”

No place in Karador should be safe from him, and no place should be thought to be as much. For so long he had watched the people of Karador flock to and from the great cathedral believing that God’s grace would save them all. This wasn’t God’s war, it was his. He wouldn’t allow the people the slightest shred of extra hope or confidence. Decimas watched the priest rise to his feet in the next booth and reach his hand out to open the door. There was a sharp stroking sound one way, and the priest was stopped in his tracks, the necromancers sword driven right through his chest. “Where’s your god now father?” he asked spitefully as he peered down at the priest through the little grid as the holy man slowly fell to his knees, sliding his back down the wall. There was no way that the priest would be able to speak, or let alone get up and walk away. There was a darkness growing around the wound as Decimas drew his sword from the mans chest, leaving a whole in the front and back of the dying man.

“Cado iam quod orior oriri ortus in nex” he said in a superior tone, not speaking too loudly. After sliding his sword back into its sheath on his back, the necromancer turned to face the little door and slowly opened it. He bowed his head a little bit as he stepped out of the confessional, hiding his face yet again. Decimas wanted to be able to continue his buisness within the city without being recognised. Wandering freely would become a rarity if people were to know his face.

After closing the door behind him, Decimas walked away from the confessional and headed to the main path between seats. He grinned to himself, knowing that the priest would rise up again once he was dead, and everyone would know that even the church wasn’t safe, that even God couldn’t save them from him. As he aproached the pass in the seats, Decimas would be walking directly in front of the one woman seated in the hall. Once he got close enough to take a look, he knew it was her, the queen and overlord of Karador herself. With his head still bowed, his hood still hanging past his forehead, shading his face under the already dim lights, Decimas nodded acknowledgingly at Kalista as he walked casually, coming within only about a foot of her, though still never bringing his face into sight.

[Diala]

Kalista heard the doors open as well, felt the cool breeze from the evening air that drifted through and mingled now with the warm air in the church, the fresh smells from outside mixing with the more heavy solid smells that lay there from the candles and incense long since burnt out. She did not turn to see whom had entered, she was not so rude as to intrude upon others that might find their way here this time of night for they were usually here for confession and seldom wished to be noticed. And, sure enough, she heard the door to the confessional slide open and then the click as it shut behind her. Kalista remained seated, her thoughts once again moving back to their original thinking.

Time passed, though not much, before she felt a twinge of something, though she took small notice to it, as it was so slight. As with any magical being, when another uses magic, they know it makes a sound, something of a swooshing, that others can identify as magic. This one was very light, near inaudible, meaning the user was either very far away, or a great master at controlling and silencing his or her use. Shortly after however, she heard the sliding of the confessional doors open again and then footsteps nearing her. She once again, made no move to try and notice the man who walked so near her, as once again, it was her rather large distaste of rudeness that prevented her from prying. She did however, incline her head towards the man after he had nodded his in recognition of her presence, a few unruly locks moving forward to obscure her right cheek for a moment before her head righted itself once again and now, she looked up at the man, he having made first contact, so to speak. She took note on how he continued to wear his hood, even though in a place such as this, it was not common courtesy, as well, she took note that he seemed to wear about him an air of self-import, something she felt nearly overflowing in his manner, the way he held himself and as well, the very way he remained in close proximity to her being, even knowing whom it was he was now standing before, which could explain the entire reason he would have found that he should not have to feel so inclined as to remove his hood in the presence of God as well his Queen.

“The night seems to bring with it many night creatures with whom seek to devour if not simply torture a mans soul, I do hope you intend to make your way through the streets on careful feet sir.” She opened up the conversation, the sword of Karador just on the edge of her mind, she distrusted this man, for whatever reason she did not know, but just incase, her sword would be ready to pluck from the realm it resided, should she need use of it.

Kalista watched him carefully as he so arrogantly walked by her, awaiting his answer to her comment, should he feel she was worth replying to, that was, should he not, she might decide that her own hand may play the aggressor just for his simple rude behavior, for even in the house of the Lord, the Overlord of Karador had no qualms to teach a few lessons to one who may be in need of them, as she did not find it rude to teach propriety under the watchful eyes of her God.

[Decimas]

Slowing to a stop as Kalista inclined her head and spoke to him, Decimas had found himself, with very little effort, or rather, by mistake even, within a three foot proximaty of the Queen of Karador; the very life seal of the great tree. Standing for a few moments perplexed by the concept that none before him had come to this strikingly simple idea of assassinating the Queen while she was alone. She had clearly left her guard outside the building, as was sitting there as vulnerable as she ever would be found. Cowards, he thought to himself, the allegid evil doers of the past. Too afraid of god, they must have been, too afraid of the object of the peoples faith. Yes, cowards they must all have been. Either that, he thought, or complete and total morons.

“Yes m’am,” he replied, not sounding deep and dark, or sarcastic, or arrogant as he usually did, but rather ageeable instead. “It does seem there are a great many things going bump in the dark, doesn’t it?” Decimas stood turned to face her halfway, even his head almost faced her, though his hood still would prevent her from clearly seeing his face as he looked down partly, to the floor. “Why do you sit here so late at night?” he asked, as his voice and tone would show him to be truly wondering why. “Do you truly believe that god will save you? That he will save your kingdom?”

“Because somehow I don’t have such faith.” He continued after a slight pause, still sounding rather genuine. “I am just not able to believe that god will give me such grace. I am just not able to believe that he will help me..” Decimas continued to stand still as he paused, seeming rather genuine and pensive. “Forgive me lady,” he said, “but I don’t think faith will save Karador either.”

[Diala]

“It does seem there are a great many things going bump in the dark, doesn’t it?”

Those very words were the ones she had needed to know, this man before her was not at all what he wanted to appear to be. The response to the question, or rather statement she had made as for his well being, had he been an honest servant of Karador, would have been more along the lines of giving thanks to his Queen for her concern, not to agree that there would be things that go ‘bump’ in the night. Kalista watched his movements ever more closely now, her ever watchful gaze turning a bit less friendly, more stand-offish, little wisps of slivery snake-like formations playing in her onyx irises, openly displayed for him to see as she hid very little, feared even less.

“Indeed, there are quite a many things that would go bump as well forces that bump back.” She replied, her gaze never wavering as he turned slightly in her direction, still refusing to allow her to fully see his face, the shadows forever hiding his features under his hooded form. “I sit here because it is a place of peace, a place for one to collect his or her thoughts in silence, as well, it would seem a place where a Queen might have the chance to meet more of her loyal people.” She replied and then paused for some time to regard him as he continued to speak to her from beneath that cursed hood of his, his voice remaining calm and showing no signs of fear or of aggression, though she had lived for far too long to trust such things when faced with one who was not of Gods creatures as well as one who would remain hidden from her eyes.

“You misjudge me sir.” She started, her hands resting on her lap, her gaze never leaving his person as a most disturbing smile filled with a darkness he certainly would not have known was there, crept over her features like some hidden snake sliding from its hiding place under the rocks. “I do not believe it is God who will save my Kingdome, no.” She went on, pausing to regard this man a bit more. “It will be as it always has been, my Kingdome will be saved by its loyal people and though the blood of thousands perhaps even more may be shed, in the end, as it always has been, Karador will remain standing and I, will continue on, existing as always, to ensure that the accursed King never rear his hideous head again on the lands of the earth.” She laughed then, a chilling sort of sound, perhaps not even to be considered as such. “God is only here to guide the hands of his followers, not to fight their battles for them. That is my arena, not his.” She finished finally, her posture remaining calm, her eyes remaining fixed on his every move, her attention, in short, fully on him now

[Decimas]

“I don’t pretend to know you, majesty.” He returned, standing still and looking down at his own feet while talking. “but you seem to be holding a good deal of what would be uncertain optimism, if it weren’t for your obvious confidence.” Decimas paused for a mere moment, looking down as he thought about what to say next. Truly this was a particularily delicate situation he had gotten himself into, and obviously, he had to find a way out of it. “I wonder,” he coninued, turning his head more toward her, though still never showing his face through the dark hood on his head. “What makes you so certain of Karadors victory?” pausing again, for only a second, decimas rose his head straight up, but looked away so that the queen wouldn’t see the unnatural darkness under his hood that covered his face, so obviously showing the use of dark magic and intense secrecy. “Or is it just hope you have?”

Decimas took two or three steps before stopping again and turning his head back towards the queen. “I don’t pretend to tell the future.” He added, his head held down again, though turned over his shoulder in her direction. “But somehow I can’t help but feel that the future will be harder than you let on, majesty, maybe hareder than you even know.” Deecimas was trying hard to comeo off as simply a pecimistic, cynical citizen, very fatalistic and withdrawn. He feared it wasn’t working though, when the queen seemed to get a little less friendly sounding, more defensive and resentfull. Starting to walk away, he hoped would loosen things up, giving him slightly less intensity, showing him in a low stress mood, simply getting on his way.

He had to do something in any case, to walk away from the conversation before that priest rose back up and started to move mindlessly about the church, blowing the necromancers cover. Decimas fully intended on walking casually out of the chuch only to hear the surprise of the Queen when she realised she had been speaking to the master necromancer himself. He knew too, that he would inevitable feel the wake of resentment and hatred, the intense anger that Kalista would give off as soon as she realised, and he so longed to feel that from her. the pleasure he would get from such a thing was sadistic to say the least, but what could you say for a necromancer.

[Diala]

Decimas was correct in figuring that she would not let go of his words so easily, it was fully in her nature to find out what she was not aware of and his actions more than suggested he was not one with Karador, or maybe perhaps as he wished it, simply a citizen with low expectations of her arm. The last however, sparked another fire in the Queen as she found it her duty to make all understand that she fully interned to protect all that lived under her watchful eyes were taken care of, felt safe. This man did not feel as such and, in her mind, was either against her, of for some reason; saw false hope in who and what she was.

“You move away sir, why is that?” She stated, her words still coming out on a wave of darkness that wasn’t the norm for the Queen. “You come to me, tell me you do not think of a brighter future and then you walk away as if I will accept this.” She now stood and took a couple steps towards the man, her eyes searching his back now, as that was what was turned to her at this point.

She walked to his front now, cutting his access from the outer door, her onyx gaze looking him over. “Do I put too much faith in God, is this where you are thinking I might be wrong? If it is so, you are wrong.” She started. “Do I feel that Karador will overcome yet another war?” She stated more than asked. “Yes, Karador will withstand anything anyone or thing throws at it, as it has no other choice in the matter. Should Karador fall, the entire world falls, I will not let that happen?’ She then stated. “As well, neither will any loyal creature to what is good and right.” She then stated with such conviction that it was most unmistakable she’d fight and kill any who opposed her way, even if she’d have to rend them apart with her own bare hands. “You seem to have terrible doubts sir as to how things are running in our Kingdome. What might you do that would be different, lay down and let them walk over you?” She then spat, her anger showing slightly now, even though she’d tried to keep a calm about her, she definitely didn’t like this man, this creature who came to her side and then offended not only her, but Karador as well. “Before you leave my presence, I want you to understand one thing…” She then stated, once again gaining control over her quick anger. “Every being, every soul in this Kingdome and as well the entire world depends on how I am to fair in a war against any odds.” She started, telling the truth. “If I fail, then the Lord of Hell walks the earth again and without the Karador line to protect it, the world is at a loss, I can no longer allow that to happen than I cold allow a small child to be beaten behind closed doors.” She continued, her voice ringing with conviction. “You have no knowledge of what is being done to protect your sorry, uncaring and most ungrateful ass.” She then stated, her onyx eyes flashing again this time snaking with tendrils of electric snakes for a moment in her anger as it rose once again. “You have no idea the sacrifices that have been made, the lives that have been lost, the lengths that I would go through to ensure you a free living space, the right to breath, to simply live. You have no idea the losses that I have personally felt, nor the losses of every other Karadorian citizen around you. You obviously are not from around here, but open your eyes and take a good long look at what you find, because behind every eye of every loyal citizen, every loyal soldier you will find the reason why it is that Karador will not loose.” She finished, now moving aside slightly, knowing her anger was about ready to get the better of her and though reluctantly, she would allow him to pass, hoping that perhaps he would one day and soon, understand what it is she talked of. But then she paused in her side step for but a moment. “You were not here 2000 years ago, nor were most of whom are trying to oppose me now, you as they, do not know what happens to humans when the Dark Lord walks the earth, he kills even his most loyal warriors, just simply because he is in a foul mood, and when he kills, it isn’t over quickly, no.. I have witnessed atrocities you couldn’t possibly imagine, horrors that even made my heart reach out to those Necromancers and other foul beasts who’d been on the wrong side of my victory, I felt their suffering, seen what a world would be under that reign, and no, I will NOT let it happen again.” She finished, this time, for good as she now turned her back on the man and walked away from him.

“Oh, and one last comment.” She added quietly, her feet stopping but her back remaining turned to him, her eyes looking up at the altar of her God. “For your sake, I hope not to see you on the wrong side of my sword… I will remember you.”

Her feet then moved forward, quietly, making no sound as she strode forward, never looking back at him again and took her seat in the front row of pews once again, her hands in her lap, her quietness complete, as if she’d already forgotten him.

[Decimas]

“You adressed me madam.” Decimas replied, standing still, his hands cupped together as he kept his head bowed, never having looked up into her face as she had stood before him recounting her expressions of pride, responsabily, and determination; as she had stood before him putting him down for what he had said. “I had no intention to come offend you highness, and please, don’t take my remarks the wrong way. I most sincerely apreciate what you do for us, and to be honest lady, im quite honord that you would make such sacrifices for me, that you would do what you do, for people like me.” Decimas paused for a moment, collecting himself as he started one single step more towards the door.

“I suppose I’m simply cynical.” He continued, stopping in his tracks yet again. “I guess I don’t put as much weight in the passion of desperation as you do. My father taught me you have to take what you want.” He continued, actually taking a moment to think of the past, and let out some of his own true thoughts, not acting in the least for some part in the conversation. “because no one will give it to you. I guess I just imagine it not making a difference wether you let it happen or not, since the enemies of Karador more than likely don’t depend on you allowing them victory. I must commend you Kalista.” He continued, still without lies or deceit, still telling his true thoughts. “I have to say I admire you highness, for doing what you do. You don’t wait and hope to get what you want, you take it. you fight for what you believe and you don’t give up; not even after so many years, going through it so many times. I’m sorry if what I’ve said offended you lady, it wasn’t my intent. But rest assured that what you’ve said has marked me, and that is truly not a lie.” He spoke the truth too. Decimas hadn’t fed the queen any lies, or acted any deceit since she came to speak in his face; not as though he had lied before, but did act, for sure.

Decimas had noticed Kalista seated back where she had been before he crossed her, noticed her simply sitting there looking up at the alter ahead of her, obviously thinking on things and just being alone with her mind. She seemed to be done with him, done with her ranting to him, though he truly didn’t mind her saying what she said. If she had any desire to speak further to him, he was certain she would do so, and so he began to walk away again, figuring it would be awekward to stand there if she was indeed done with him.

Decimas though, was surely done speaking to her, regardless wether she spoke more to him, or of what she would say, though he would still listen to her words while he walked if she spoke. He knew that priest was starting to get up and he had to get out of the church. There were guards outside and there was the queen inside; Decimas didn’t want to corner himself in the church with his one lone zombie. After taking the walk down the middle ile of the church, Decimas opened up one door wide enough to pass himself through. Closing the door behind him, Decimas smiled and nodded at the guards lounging on the front steps as he felt the dead priest standing and propping open the door to the confessional. Stepping swifftly down the stairs and turning the first corner from the church, Decimas made sure to be lost into the dark shadows of the alleys, as he knew the dead priest was moaning and groaning stumbling about the church by that point. The necromancer had gotten out of there just in the nick of time and he was most pleased with his timing on the escape, as well as knowing quite confidently that none would find him once he had slipped into the darkness as he had done the instant he had the chance.

[Diala]

Kalista’s mind heard it before it even began to chime its ugly sound through the beauty of the church, her eyes flashed a crimson color and then returned to their onyx state just as quickly as her sword appeared as if from nowhere in her delicate-seeming hand, the blade of Karador flaring a golden light, bringing to the interior of the domed room the appearance of being lit up by a thousand-plus candles all at once. The sound of the living dead drew closer to her with every passing second, the foul stench of the corpse reaching her nostrils now and still, she sat, not wanting to turn and face what she believed her eyes would see behind her. She felt that she didn’t want to know the truth of what, or rather who it was behind her, creeping towards her with an intent to kill her, not for who she was, but simply just because she was in his presence, or rather, now it would seem, its presence.

There was a scuffling sound perhaps ten paces behind her now as the corpse of one of her long-time friends approached her from behind, his moaning a drone of warning that he intended to destroy her living essence, to allow her to become one with his un-living state. Kalista then closed her eyes, shut them tightly, and took a long inhale of air through her nostrils, filling her senses with that foul stench that was the Priest known to her as Father Jacob, but more to the point as Jacob Sanders, friend of the Karador line for centuries, their families living closely together, but no more, this man was no longer a man, but a puppet, and that much, she would have to remember as she slowly stood, her eyes still shut and then turned, pivoting on her heal, sword in hand to face what she would have to do.

A pair of crimson orbs flashed open, their light radiating within the golden light of the domed church, bringing to the beauty of the place a reddish hue that seemed to overpower the golden sanctity of the holy building. Along with the reddish glow, there came a momentary sob, cut short by the rumbling sound of a deep seeded growl of anger and the droning sound of the living-dead moan. Kalista didn’t hesitate as she swung her sword up to strike, the zombie priest lunged forward, Kalista brought down her sword and with a most sickening sound of steel slicing through flesh and bone, the moaning ceased as the head flew off the body as if being smacked by a batters bat for a home run play at a ball game. The body shuddered and then slumped with a quiet thud to the marbled floor of the church, just as the head of her friend hit the floor with a slightly louder, whack and then rolled under the third set of pews to her right.

Kalista’s hand loosened its hold on the blade of Karador and it fell with a resounding clank, to the church floor, her legs simultaneously following suit, bringing her to her knees before her truly dead friend. She bent her head and said a silent prayer for the dead before once more, taking up the still glowing blade in her hand and standing once more, her eyes having not regained their onyx state, she then stepped over the headless corpse and strode to the door of the church, now knowing precisely who it had been she was conversing with, just moments before. She now knew, she had finally met that whom she’ d longed to meet. Now the church doors flew open before her, a great wind pushing them outward, the guard standing there looking up at their queen with awe, their faces confused.

“Find me that man who left here, go, now.. I want him found and brought to me alive.” She growled between gritted teeth, her words echoing and reverberating off the very houses and buildings in her anger, personified to the equality of a loud thunderclap.

There was no hesitation, not a single moment where any of the guards would have even thought to ask why, they just simply acted and the moment her words left her lips, they were already off, following the path they knew him to have gone by, but not knowing as to where from after their sight was lost of him, he would possibly be, but they would try.

“So, Necromancer, now it is personal… you and I will have a little game of cat and mouse, you... will be the mouse.” She growled between still clenched teeth as she walked, bloodied sword still held in her hand, down the dark street of Karador and up toward the castle.