What we've all been waiting for [V&L]

[Isaiah Grosvner]

Count Grosvner was a dealing type of man, and so he was used to negotiating back and forth. He often encountered many threats before, but he had been trained in protocol as an heir to the Dukedom of Kelyea - before it was snatched away from him. There was a book written generations ago by a Grosvner titled, Manual on Ducal Etiquette and Protocols, which had been edited many times with forwards by various Grosvner dukes. There was a protocol in the book on not letting emotions cloud judgement, and to not negotiate with any sort of hostage taker if family, loved ones, or close friends were being held for demands. Some Grosvner rulers even lost their eldest heirs in circumstances in the past, but the family upheld the procedures of the manual. It was true the Grosvner family usually did most things by the book.

So it was in this situation, even if the predicament was true, Count Grosvner would not have entertained dealing with such threats. He did not tolerate such nonsense, and he wanted to continue on to Hanalei at all costs. He did not believe these threats to be true, and thought they were lies. Though, in the off chance it might be true and most of the Caras family was eliminated, well the Count couldn't say it was all that bad.

The Count was about the respond when he heard the commotion break free, and he snapped his head back. Fuck! All hell is going to break loose now!" The Count knew it was Thanos, and that he had likely heard the threats. The man seemed angry as he dismounted, and walked back. Isaiah knew he was going for the Black Widow personally. There was not much he could do as he was glued upon his horse at the front watching with horror as to what might happen. The Duke may end the Black Widow once and for all. His men had shackled Bryce Cornwallis and made sure he was securely locked, as well as told him to shut up. Isaiah was no longer paying attention to the petty man.

"I am aware," he replied to the two men who rode up to inform him that Duke Caras was here. Well now the cover was blown, the Count tried. Shit, maybe I should not have brought Caras into this plan. The Count briefly regretted the situation now, because he didn't know what was going to happen. He still thought moving on to Hanalei was best, and that the Duke should not let the lies of the Black Court rile him up. He watched as Thanos opened the carriage door. He didn't care if Rhiann died, he just would prefer if she didn't die her at this spot.

[Thanos Caras]

The narrator may be going out on a branch here, but she wanted impart a tidbit of perturbing information. If by chance Thanos Caras had somehow and in some way managed to obtain a copy of the, Manual on Ducal Etiquette and Protocols written by none other than the Grovsners, he would have most likely used it as a means of dry tinder to light the few fireplaces built inside of his home estate. Accidentally of course... after not realizing it was the book he tore up while in the midst of one of his love-drunk sessions with one of his maids... on a library desk (Where oh where was this similarly heard of, hn?). It also wasn't quite the best of materials to use to wipe sweat and sexually-incited fluids away either, even though it had quite the fascinating absorption capabilities.

Enough on the concept of Etiquette and Protocols though...

[Out of Character: Remind me how I can excellently roleplay a character who practices a life of self-chosen celibacy in comparison to this... man-creature again? I am not sure anymore... I apologize for his harsh language though =/]

The man who continued to dangerously stride up the line of men on horseback was a dangerous man indeed. Thighs taut underneath dark leggings, backside rigid, he was the very sight of a bastard who, without warning, had a molten steel pike shoved up his... spine. His spine! Whether or not this was a good thing though... one could not be too sure.

Was it possible, just possible it was meant to be a wild, uncouth of a ruse to flush him from out of hiding? As much he desired the idea to be true, something about it itched beneath his skin, sending it aflame. The mere idea of his family, his only heir being harmed sent him nearly wild. Is this what the frigid bitch wanted to contend with, truly? Did she believe she had him figured out?
She had no idea... she had absolutely no idea!
Then again... perhaps she did. The imposing, icy arachnid had lost one of her two sons in the past year. Perhaps she believed she had nothing more to gain, nor nothing more to lose but she did, oh she did! Did she forget who her first son was? Who he had married? What these actions of hers would cause in reverberations?
Stupid, stupid frigid bitch; so high and lofty in her near, sightless web, she believed herself to be over this all unable to be harmed by others.
Even webs, as near sightless as they can be, could be set alight and found by fire.

He could imagine it, the carriage door opening by his own hand and no one being inside! Or, or... if she was... his calloused hands so lovingly tracing up her porcelain arms, grazing and chaffing her collarbone and up further, over her shoulders. They would find their way to her lovely little throat and fingers flexing, he'd wrap them so carefully around that part of her, closing off her sweet, oh so precious air, closing... closing...
...and just when she thought it would end, it wouldn't; instead, it would end with him suddenly bashing her skull against a closed carriage door, again and again, leaving her in a bloodied, unsightly mess of brain matter for Isaiah Grovsner, of all people, to clean up!

...but that would've been rather... barbaric of him to do, wouldn't you say? Oh no... he had better, more creative ways to deal with her. She led a gentle life, hadn't she? Maids at her beck and call out of fear, and men, possibly wooing her (in spite of the latter being the epitome of his revolting, cold nightmares). Roland hadn't gone dry (without a woman) all those years while married to the witch, but Rhiann? Oh dear Rhiann was possibly as dry and scaly inside still as the day Roland was forced to mount her to produce a heir! (He was certain there hadn't been enough lubricant then, nor now!)

Her husbands had been gentle with her all these years and for all the power and threat she wielded, the was still one certain fact that remained steadfast and true.
The horrid, fugly witch was still in the carriage when he truly opened the door to set his livid, golden eyes on her. How placid she appeared, how sickeningly innocent!

For all the shit he wanted to do to her, he found himself drawing in a deep, deep breath, before... before...
"Do come out... my dear Duc'ess..."
His purring, rich kelyean accent grew soft, his tones nearly... nearly... level as his eyes narrowed to slits, mutely assessing her as she continued to sit there, expressing only minimal interest in this present affair!
Would she comply? Who knew...

[Rhiann]

How interesting things would be if minds could be read, private thoughts and opinions aired. Rhiann would be in her element. It had always been her cold desire toknow the innermost thoughts of men, because what they kept silent was what would hurt them most. Luckily, most people could be read, to an extent, and she was well-practised in it. Most didn't know it, how their expressions softened, hardened; how their tongue lingered over certain words, or how they had to look away when certain topics were brought up.
But it did not take a genius to read that Thanos Caras was furious. It was apparent in every line of his face and body, the tension in his arms as he had to hold himself back from violence. Rhiann wondered at this - these brawny men were almost feral, made to fight and perfectly capable of killing. Why then did they engage their stunted brains to hold themselves back from this natural desire?
Thanos could probably solve everyone's problems by letting go and killing her here and now. All he had to sacrifice was his family.
The Duchess kept her cold green eyes upon him as he spoke. His accent so much heavier when he was frustrated. Poor Keylean soul. She pursed her lips as she considered his invitation. She could tell he was very close to hurting her. Should she perhaps use the same technique she had for distracting her husband, to press her poisonous lips against his? If the action did not give him a heart attack, it would likely incapacitate the men that surrounded them with violent nausea!
The thought almost amused her, Thanos was famed for his womanizing way, the Duchess wondered whether this man was sick enough to consider her a woman.
But back to the current concern. The Duchess could remain in her carriage, but it would do little good. Thanos would only drag her out, and the Duchess wished to maintain her dignity.
"Have we arrived already, my dear Duke?"
She asked, finally moving and stepping out of the carriage. She blinked and shielded her eyes against the harsh sun.
"It would appear not. So, I assume you have met my man and wish to discuss where we go from here?"
The Duchess said conversationally, getting straight to the point. There was no point in acting innocently now.

[Thanos Caras]

Hah... dignity...
It was a wonderful thing, was it not?
To believe the former Duchess was capable of having dignity... true... dignity was a highly laughable idea. In fact, she would have to practically tear off her near-alabaster skin and drench herself in the very essence of dignity before she would be considered worthy in being coated with its delicate, fragrant scent!
How composed she was as she sought to relent to Duke of Kelyea's softly-spoken command... how calm...
Did she believe herself to be a classic feminine speciman of upper society, perhaps -- willing to accept the command and order of the greater sex? If she deemed herself so... well, she was sorely mistaken. There was a saying, or rather an impolite word, for women of her type and stature; a saying that was hardly acceptable outside of a sporting, rodani hound kennel, even! Unfortunately, the absinthe eye-colored little witch managed to inherit that particular title and have it bitterly used upon her on a daily basis!
Unfortunately, Thanos highly doubted there was another man in the country of Tetel'ac that was willing to mount this wretch; not even himself. For all the womanizing he did: the wooing, the touching, the occasional honest need for warmth from a true, classical beauty, he, oddly enough, even had standards. Standards that, even if the frigid bitch tried hard to meet them, she wouldn't even come close to doing so.
In humor from one narrator to the next, while Rhiann believed herself to be in her element, had she, by chance, sought to press her lips to Thanos's own, he would not have become paralyzed as Roland had on that fateful day in the royal castle; instead, he would have reached for her dark hair, sought to yank on it, and bite down on her bottom lip in the harshest, most unforgiving of manners.
The bitch would hurt. The bitch would bleed.

The way his mind reeled, bordering between rage and cold, cruel thoughts, it had to be said no one was safe from Thanos: not Roland de Grada, not Isaiah Grosvner, Edmund or Cassandra du Nord, not even his younger sibings. He expected his younger brothers to know better, most of all Solone; however, perhaps he was putting too much expectation on the little runt at this current time.
And to whomever who thought it was an excellent idea, or (whoever suggested it in the first place), to have the black widow sent into his dukedom, was going to have a sharp pike impaled up their ass and righteously so.

Did the bitch believe, if his family was killed, she would be able to still flutter off in the wind?
No. Her blood would be painting the walls and seats of the decadent carriage Isaiah had appeared to outfit Rhiann de Grada/du Nord/Danum with.
He might have been going out on a fragile limb here, but if the wretch had the slightest bit of common sense, she would know better to keep his family alive, for how ever long it took, no matter the cost or expense of her cheap, stupid asses for hire.
Then there was the fact the witch wanted brought to his estate. Is that where all her little companions gone, per chance? And why, it appeared, there was only one of her lot, in front of the entire entourage?
It would explain the load of dove shit being spouted from that git on the road.

Sadly... Thanos did not... personally... meet the man and as Rhiann stood there, all he did was smile vaguely in response to her question. What could he say, what could he do, hm?
All he did was reach out to shut the carriage door... just in case...
In the most spine-chilling of motions, he forced himself (sickeningly) closer to her, bending his head downward to... haha... bring it near her ear. His voice once more rumbled, growing soft, growing... nearly sweet as he chose to respond, in his... own... way.
"Undress little spider..."
Yes, yes... he was quite the womanizer... wasn't he?
The frigid bitch didn't know jack-shit at this point.

[Rhiann]

The Duchess stood straight and still, a black and white scar amongst the sea of soldiers. There was very little that could cause her to lose her composure. Although this had been a bad year, she had already lost it thrice within these twelve months. Once when her husband had found out her old infidelity that brought her son's paternity into question; secondly when that son was killed; and thirdly when she met her not-dead ex-lover that had acted madly and even made her faint. Tut, that really did put off her average. Rhiann did not want to make a fourth episode.
She stayed still, only her eyes following the Duke as he leant past her to close the door to the carriage, and then as he moved back he hovered sickeningly close to her. Rhiann near had to hold her breath, the man stank of sweat and horse, as most did actually, it made Rhiann quite thankful that she kept men at a distance.
She frowned at his soft words. Was this supposed to be the famous Caras charm? If it was, it was badly timed, and seemed to be lacking something. Rhiann sighed, looking away from him, something was really wrong when the first thing one person said to threaten another was to tell them to undress.
"I think not, Duke Caras."
She replied curtly, her eyes snapping back to his.
It must be a strange sight to see this middle-aged, woman who looked so small and fragile compared to the broad-shouldered brute that stood next to her, and hundreds more at her heel. And yet she acted as though there was nothing to fear, as though they were evenly matched.
"Did my man not make it quite clear, sir? I am to be released and allowed to travel in the direction of your estate. Upon seeing me, my army will disengage and do no further damage to the estate or its occupants. If I do not appear, or appear still under arrest, they are ordered to kill every last man, woman and child, and to burn Caras Castle to the ground."
The Duchess spoke, her unvarying drone carrying out clearly to the surrounding soldiers that looked warily between the Black Widow and Duke Caras.
The Duchess held up her hand in a simple signal that Thanos should hold off on his anger for a while longer.
"You wish to kill me, I know. Carry on, dear Duke, I do not fear death, I have lived long enough and I daresay I deserve it. But... as much as I wish I could step down and make all this stop, it cannot end with me. The Black Court and it's army still see me as the Black Widow, they will fight for me, and they will avenge my death in the only way they know how."
Throughout her speech, her cold greens eyes never wavered in their hold on Thanos.
"I recommend you hurry in your decision, Duke. My army is not known for its patience."

[Isaiah Grosvner]

Isaiah merely continues watching spectacle.

((Okay, will post next time, one more pass... Thanos and Rhiann next)).

[Thanos Caras]

[Kelly, I apologize for the absence. Health & Other. I also apologize for the content of this post to... I was forced to do some thinking and unfortunately, the utter blonde moments I have - are showing through here and now.]

Sadly, Rhiann was toeing the one particular line which would declare a fourth episode if she continued on the dangerous path she was treading. And while many fools may have easily trespassed across the said line, to believe of all people, Rhiann de Grad- hrm, Nord, ... or was it Danum? Ah, yes... Danum...
Where were we again? Oh!
...to believe, of all people Rhiann Danum would willingly cross the delicate threshold was to believe the bloodied entrails of farm animals would rain from the sky above the Royal Capital and land on the heads of many unsuspecting commoners.
Unfortunately dear duchess turned mere lady... even the lowly-born and bred people knew to look up. When, by chance, did Rhiann learn to look up or down? Apparently... never. Twas a sad thing to see, or rather sight. If anything was capable of making a man more aggressive, it was staring down a pissed off man who was so viciously close, especially a man who was... by the lack of a better word, fucked - morally and emotionally.

Raising a hand also, even to simply motion for him to cease, was not the best of motions for Rhiann Danum to have done either. Out of the corner of his golden-brown vision he saw it and without warning, he jerked. Like a rigid, poised eagle, the fingers of his right hand moved from the side of the carriage it was placed against to down and between them. He would have sought to capture the fragile wrist in question and without remorse, tighten his grip. Still, he he struggled violently with himself to not succumb to the inevitable desire of crushing flesh, muscle, tendon, and worst of all, bone. In this state he was, he was plausible to do damage, and even he knew this. Either way, it was going to leave bruises; this he was sure of, but bruises meant very little when again, she was toeing the line of danger. She spoke of being unfraid of death, of seeing it would not end with her -- the Black Court that is.

Strangely, he could not help but scoff, his chest moving as he turned his vision abruptly from her ear and part of her face to glower at the carriage frame. Did she believe refusing his demand and spouting forth words of this nature would cease his actions?
As colorful as Thanos's vocabulary was, the narrator herself - in attempt to contain her sanity - was going to refrain from using the foul profanity he wanted to use, at least temporarily, in her writing.
The first and foremost thought going through his mind was, was she thinking or wasn't she? Eyes reeled skyward, as if he was silently asking for some sense of fortitude with the wretched witch in front of him. When she spoke of him to hurry, things... well...

Her fabric-covered toe drew over the line. His hand would have tightened further, without care, without qualm over her wrist, intent on leaving deeper bruises, to bring soreness to what lay beneath her unmarred, porcelain flesh. It did not matter because this time, he would not cease the pressure. This time, he would not allow her to speak. Fingers of his other hand would have been moving towards her throat, intent on gripping on the upper portion, beneath her chin.
On an odd note, she should've been grateful he wasn't closing off her windpipe! At least... not completely...

And as stated bitterly before, Jairus was not here to force Thanos to see reason and instead, Rhiann had made a major miscalculation in her... wild, if not desperate plan. For all her present bravado, she tried to imply she had no means of stopping what she sure as hell started. How stupid of her, how blatantly ignorant of her own words...
Best hurry Thanos...
The words echoed inside of his mind, the sarcasm easily read and registered inside of himself as he jerked again, seeking to push her, however far it was, into the side of the carriage. If he had to take a step forward, he would. If he had to grip tighter, he would. He would have pushed himself right up to her, against her, to peer down at her face this time, the flicker of warning there and well apparent.

[I am making this part of the post, optional - to give Rhiann a chance to fight if she wishes.]

"You lost a son... are you so readily willing to lose the ot'er?"
His words, just as soft as before, finally rumbled out of his throat. Despite her last statement, he was speaking... patiently, taking his time to mockingly deliberate what it was she had said.
"Do you believe, merely because 'e is t'e 'usband of Cassanda de Winter, 'e will not be ridiculed for your misconduct?"
Misconduct? Is that what he calling it now? It was as close as he would or rather, could become in this situation. Just because of her stupid, stupid words seconds earlier, he was attempting to be polite to her.
Lies, lies! The corner of his mouth twitched. Did he believe, himself, Roland de Grada would not stand by and do something about this, himself? If it was one thing he knew about Roland: the man just may be a drunk, the man just may also be a love-prone fool, and... an uncertain fool too, but when he was pissed...
...Well, perhaps Rhiann would know herself, hm? Thanos wouldn't know for sure, but what he knew... he knew.

"You tread on t'in ice, ye' frigid bitc'. 'ow many are t'ere, 'm?" He said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself. Whether or not the woman before him completely knew, his brother's own estate (where he and their mother usually lived, before... Thanos was ordered to remain at the Royal Capital) was actually less than a league away from his own. Not many truly knew this really, for the Caras's estate was often considered a whole in Northwestern Atae. While they had their main estate(s), they did indeed have lesser ones throughout Kelyea, for visitation purposes in the local areas, often enough. Still, they were hardly used, hardly needed...
...the sudden thought of Isaiah and what he had said to Thanos made him nearly want to pop her head clean off then and there. By chance, what had Isaiah told the witch? His heavy brunette eyebrows furrowed in a line of sudden thought and his eyes, well... would have subtly shifted while still staring her down.

[Yay, more optional dialog, again - cut off WHERE ye' please.]

On the main estate, he was sure the average population of commoners counted well over two hundred, close to two hundred and fifty perhaps. In addition to those of which who were enlisted in more militaristic services, besides the lesser nobles who chose to make their home there...
....but in the span between his estate and Jairus's own...and the fact it was vaguely remote, despite it being in a place where nearby lords of higher power swore allegiance to his family... speaking of family...

Jairus was still, from what Thanos had gathered from a tired and worn rider the previous night, less than to half a day's ride away. His brother had hardly brought any men with him also from what he was told, in intent to keep things small and hardly noticable. These thoughts led Thanos to quickly make a silent, momentary calculation of where they possibly were... immediately north of Hanalei to... Northwestern Atae, which is where the estates were. It would, despite the bitch's wicked demands, be less than two days hard ride, three, close perhaps four if her royal cuntness remained in the carriage and they still made appropriate stops.
While the thought of her spreading her legs across a gelded nag would've been amusing to him, in another time, another place... this was hardly the time for such inappropriate statements. Again, the narrator was trying to avoid this nonsense!

Two days though... anything could happen in two days. If her army was impatient as she said they would, they would probably way three days? People often said things came in threes...
What had her men suffered in losses? What if she was lying? These "What's and How's" were beginning to bother him... just a little...

At that point... it just didn't matter.
"If you don't appear, t'ey die. If you die, t'ey still die... you signed 'heir deat' warrant eit'er way, as well as Edmund's."
Sure... he was gambling here, and sure, his grip upon her throat would've loosened a bit, but he was trying to make a point.

Where this point was going, it was going to go anywhere, before he uh... well...

...Would've intended to hum, hrm... barbarically rip open the front of her dress.

OOC: .......you know. I love Thanos, but he's sayin' this is a living nightmare. xD; I think I know where he is getting at and I apologize Kelly, but my girls cannot curb this man. Not even if Ambrosia sat on his lap, Zu gave him a comforting hug, nor little Iphi held his hand or his own damn mother scolded him.

And since uh, things need to be put in cement... I am doing it now.

So the main estate IS on the mainland (now) and I know I mentioned in one or two posts in past threads with Jairus that his estate was indeed bordering his brother's own estate lands... this ... really does change things up a good deal, but I am keeping this stupid fact the same. I apologize for not mentioning it, I didn't really THINK on it until yesterday. DG has the layout pretty much made up, through his posts with Avina so I am leaving his designs at that, for the Main Caras Estate. Jairus's estate... well...
I think I need to do some thinking, because eh... there's is going to be a fuckin' Civil War brewing by Spring if the vivid chain of events I am seeing in my head continue. ._.

Also, Sheldon let Rhiann post once more, then you do mwahahaha.
>> <3

[Rhiann]

((That's ok hun, we all have those times. Hope you're feeling better. And I think at some point we need a description of the Duke's estate in the Keylean Estates board, to settle further confusion))

Lady Danum's cold eyes remained on him as the man quickly broke down. She sighed, oh dear, it seemed she had overestimated her enemy again. Being Regesvard, she had thought the Duke capable of retaining his senses under stress, of being able to think and hide his emotions. Clearly he was more of a brute. Rhiann had less planned for this. But the beauty of being her, was that she just remained still, steady, unchanging.
Even as he grabbed her wrist, she only looked down to where their skin met, his tanned and coarse against her almost transparent and blue-tinged skin. She felt the crush of his hand around her fragile wrist. The pain was noted, but for now it was manageable. She turned her eyes back to the Duke's face, curious how he was coping. She felt a tremor in his hand that enircled her wrist - not the tremor of a man using all his strength and pushing for more; but the tremor of a man fighting to hold back his brute force. Hmm, there was hope after all.
If he was wanting to scare her with physical pain and punishment he was going to have to try harder. All her life Rhiann had detached herself from something as trivial as pain, whether it was the suffocating discomfort of laying with her first husband, bearing two children, having a glass thrown at her head by her second husband... women have their own pain.
But it seemed that Thanos was willing to go that extra length. Rhiann noticed movement, and a moment later his second hand claimed her throat. Rhiann felt the his strength and staggered back inevitably. She grungted alightly as the breath was knocked out of her as she was pushed against the side of the carriage. Not the most comfortable place to be. Rhiann felt his fingers dig into the taut skin on her neck, doubtless causing bruises. She could not help but think of the last time a man had her by the throat. She had been goading him on to kill her then too, but he had weakened and had kissed her of all things. Her teeth bared at the memory of it, and her eyes shone a deadly green as she looked up at the Duke. Would he take his chance and end her now? Or would he weaken too?
After his question, Rhiann made to answer, but found her voice restricted by his hand. She narrowed her eyes to insist that he lighten her hold, but then continued in a whisper anyway.
"Why do you assume Edmund is involved?"
She asked. The appointment of a person to the Black Court was hardly made public, it was to be of highest confidence. But by the time she had finished asking her question, she realised she knew the answer.
"Who did he run to, you or Roland?"
She demanded, her cold anger rising anew, at her son this time. Why did that young man try and thwart her at every turn, when all she did was try and give him everything?! Of course he ran like a weakling straight to the Regesvard.
Rhiann processed this new information. It did not matter, it did not make any difference to her plans, nor to the outcomes. But perhaps if they all survived this, she would have to punish her son for his betrayal.
Rhiann's attention returned to the Duke as he questioned her again. Fine, she would answer. Hopefully he would realise she was actually telling the truth. Not that anyone ever did, how could they believe that this malicious woman was stating anything honest.
"Five hundred of the most brutal and barbaric fighters in Tetel'ac. Thankfully they are loyal to my General, who answers only to me. Oh, and whatever pathetic force of knights that Duke Du Nord had managed to muster."
She replied, adding the last part bitterly. Her son was easy to predict on some counts at least. Edmund Du Nord was still an honorable knight in his heart and would act as one now. Or so Rhiann hoped.
"Keylea and Fexlund should not have sworn so many men to this mission, sacrificing your home security. As soon as I heard how many must be assembling, I knew my pitiful forces could not triumph in an open and honest battle on route. So now I make it a business deal instead. Myself in exchange for your family."
She gasped out, her words fighting to exhale the little air in her lungs, as her body fought in inhale precious oxygen. But she did not struggle, she remained the master of her emotions, waiting for the Duke to see the truth that she was lying before him. (And now, dear readers, it becomes obvious for all my vague questions on guard numbers etc)
Rhiann frowned at Thanos, wondering how his mind worked so. That her men would die either way? Oh, it would not concern her if they lived or died, they were mere tools to achieve her aims. But they were rather useful tools, and she'd prefer if they lived.
"How so, Duke? Do you believe me teamed up with imbeciles? They know my design and desire, but I trust their ingenuity and resourcefulness as much as you would any Regesvard's."
She gasped out, as he finally loosened his grip enough to make breathing and speaking that much easier. Yet still she stood still, back pressed uncomfortably against the carriage, arms straight by her sides.
"As for Edmund, you had best hope he lives. What part do you think he plays in this? That he kills and routs and tortures alongside the others? Nay, he was only alerted after the battle had begun, and hopefully arrived as it drew to a close. He is there to protect your family, lest my men's ingenuity and resource turns dark."
Rhiann added. It would be a long time yet before she could make Edmund a true villain, but for now his being a hero was useful. It would indeed be a pity for Edmund to lose his life in this gamble, especially now he was worth something in this world. But they were all running risks here.

[Isaiah Grosvner]

The Count had been watching on in silence like most of the men in the convoy, he could see some knights whispering low amongst them selves, but that did not concern him. Everyone had their eyes focused on this altercation between the Duke of Kelyea, and the Duchess of Rodan - whom unfortunately only Thanos and Isaiah knew was no longer of any rank of importance due to the annulment. He was curious as to what they were speaking about, but in a way the Count could guess. The Duchess is manipulating him, playing his emotions. Isaiah was a pretty conservative and composed man, so it was hard to get him riled up. His Duke usually was not easy to rile, but obviously Thanos had heard the threats to his family. That could drive any man to the breaking point, and in such a state of mind reason would be cast aside. In a way, Isaiah wished Jairus was here to reason to his brother, as well as to centralise the remaining household of Caras that was not allegedly under occupation by the forces of the Black Court at Castle Caras.

There was more to this than the family of Thanos Caras, and there was more to this than the ambitions of Rhiann Danum and her Black Court. Hell, there was even more to this than the ambitions of Count Grosvner. There were orders, given by none other than King Roland. Those orders were for Isaiah to bring Rhiann to Grosvnersburg securely, without incidence. The Count was in a bind, because if this mess Cornwallis talked about was true and Rhiann used it to march away... Well Isaiah would be in the proverbial dog house. The King would shit upon him and he would never hear the end of it. Orders were orders, he needed to ensure they continue on to Grosvnersburg, if only to save his own neck.

The Count produced his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead, which had grown sweaty with anxiety, unsure of what was going to happen. So many possibilities of where this could lead were pounding in his head. The only one that would not really change was if Thanos killed Rhiann and put her out of her misery right now and here. The King would probably be elated, but if she muscled her way out of this situation he would be furious. Isaiah knew his ass was on the line, and he was much a man for looking out for his own selfish needs when it came time for that. The Count hesitated, thinking briefly, before dismounting from his horse. He walked over to Bryce Cornwallis, grabbing the chained man and yanking for him to come with him.

The Count walked towards the carriage, men moving aside to ensure there was room for the second ranking lord on this mission to reach the Duke and Rhiann. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm himself as he made his way back. He needed to be of clear mind, and he needed to be a voice of reason in the madness of this moment. Finally when he got to the carriage he shoved Cornwallis to the ground, and gave the man a good kick to the stomach for good measure. Isaiah could tell Thanos was distraught, and vengeful. The man was furious, and understandably so. Nevertheless, Rhiann Danum had a reputation of deceit.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing to his Duke. This was a rather sticky, and delicate situation. His eyes flashed over to Rhiann Danum, whom was backed up against the carriage. "We knew what we were getting involved with when going ahead with this mission, but the King's orders are specific. Once we get to Hanalei I can offer all my resources to assisting you in a plan of action," he stated, also offering his cooperation with the Duke once the mission was complete. It was going to take a few days to get to Castle Caras, and Hanalei was just under a day's ride south from their current position. They could lock Rhiann, regroup, and launch a plan of action. Hanalei was the largest city in Tetel'ac, and there were many resources at the Count's disposal to offer to his Duke. "Your Grace, she spews venom soaked in honey. We can never trust her, or the Black Court, this may all be deceit to trick us," he suggested, providing an alternative insight into this situation.

He stepped back, and gave Bryce another kick, nodding for the chained man to move forward closer to both Thanos and Rhiann. He was involved in this nonsense, so he should be brought back here. It was likely the Duke would want something done to him, perhaps even in front of the nasty mistress he served. Isaiah just stayed out of the way, smart enough to keep his distance and give the Duke some space, especially when so angry.

[Thanos Caras]

The knights could whisper for all Duke Caras could care! Not one single man dared to speak out of turn on Lady Danum's behalf and while most would have silently become daunted by the near freakish height of the Lady alone, no one moved backwards because of her. Oh no! Strangely, twas the Duke they were worried, or perhaps, fearful of!
Notably, most would have plausibly expected the man to break six of the black widow's eight legs, defanged her, and left her dragging herself, broken and bleeding with her last two legs to die an intolerable death. Hell, he probably would have enjoyed setting fire to the wretched arachnid!

All right Thanos, enough is enough. The questions to be asked now, if not by him, but by anyone is, how much deceit occurred in this affair, hm? The nearing of the Count of Hoei was enough to agitate Thanos to the point, he refrained from tearing at Rhiann's lovely litt- er, expensive gown and roughing her up in ways that only Roland would possibly disapprove or, knowing the ole' boy, wildly gawk at. Had the Black Widow any smart sense, she would have scrambled at the carriage door to escape inside the safe confines once mo-

...unfortunately, Thanos still had his large, heavily calloused hand around her fragile neck. The idea of snapping it easily came to mind, once again and while he toyed with it silently in the midst of Rhiann's poisonous words, all he could do was tightly curl his lips upward.
My oh my, did he divulge too much information when he chose to bring her son into this? Or did the wretch not realize, that even on a social level, members she called blood relatives were still held accountable for her... what was the word he used... oh yes, misconduct! She was without power now, but not without influence.

Lets face it, ladies and gentleman. In some fashion, underneath all those frigid, dead layers of skin and bone, the woman was panicking. And for the right reasons, one might add, to orchestrate such a daring event! Her fleeting anger, on the subject of her son, made Thanos's thoughts subtly shift and in dong so, blinked twice and finally chose to look at her, fully.
....While this was a good thing, her next statement was not quite so. A general that only answered to Rhiann, hm? Then it was indeed Rhiann who carried out these affairs, and because she was given the appropriate chance....
Thanos should have seen it coming. He should have! But, he was like other men, human, with faults. And some things, could not be seen.

Brutal she says. Barbaric she says. Men who most likely work for the highest bidder and wielder of power, also? Or did they fear this wretched woman who's heart was undoubtedly beating rather peculiar in pace? Sure she was trying to remain composed on the outside, but physically, even cutting off her breath in fact, had to do something.
And that something did not have to be at all pleasant.

Isaiah Grovsner, as far as Thanos saw, was on very delicate ground, and the fact the man chose, at this particular time, to show up with the secondary prisoner...
Rhiann was, albeit briefly, granted a fresh bit of air.
Tawny eyes shifted, and tilting his head just slightly, his eyes sought to focus on the individual who had made such a sorry scene minutes earlier. In shackles he was, but that was...

"See w'at 'e 'as on 'im."
The words, given in a curt order, was towards what appeared to be Isaiah's own men in the company that had neared, but whether or not they would comply to the Duke's order, was something to be seen. Jaw taut, muscles still rippling in strain and tensity, he tried to comprehend Isaiah's words.
Twas a shock the Count addressed and bowed to him, forcing him to shift his gaze towards Rhiann once more.

What Isaiah said, sounded more than feasible, but if what Rhiann said was true... it would not do him any good; however, as paranoid as he was...
...a lone man.... seemingly... in the wood... Aw hell. " 'ave several men scout t'e area for t'e sign of ot'er people, Grovsner." Another hoarse order, another paranoid thought, the wheels in his mind were beginning to slowly turn, rather than remaining rustily shut on the focus of broken every bone of this whore's body in which he was holding onto.

Twas more like venom soaked in acid. Between a prisoner and a lady he wanted to openly murderer for justifiable reasons, pushing one towards the other,just wasn't going to happen.
A man, a possibly dangerous man was supposedly within reach, an even more dangerous wome- no, physically she was not dangerous. In fact, she was a... eh... lets not go there again, shall we?

Rhiann's assumptions of him and the regesvard made him stiffen moments earlier, to be honest, but her statement was soon loss as she deemed to add, that she hoped he would live. The idea made him nearly throttle her once more, but drawing in a shallow breath.
{b]"You 'ad best 'ope mine live, you wort'less bitc'!"[/b] The idea of punching someone, anyone sounded...

Well... lets just say he would have abruptly sought to push Rhiann off balance, to knock her not so kindly to the ground in a rather disgraceful manner before going towards her man like a coiled lion ready to strike.

OOC: Wow, um,. sorry. So much in one gooooo, but here we go. Think I got everything? If not, let me know. Jaja, posts coming faster.

[Rhiann]

Rhiann stood there, in a decidedly less than comfortable position, with Thanos' hand twitching and threatening to crush those last vital inches. Already her neck felt bruised and her pulse quickened in an attempt to push past the restricted arteries, her breath coarse and desperate. But still her eyes remained firmly and unflinchingly on the Duke Caras. Did he really expect her to run? To cower and beg for the scraps of her pathetic life? No, of course she would not. Rhiann Danum had little left but her pride and her reputation. Never in her life had she run from danger, she always stared fearlessly in the face of it, as though her will alone could preserve her. And now she knew that she could not crumble or everything she gambled would come crashing down. Either she persuaded Thanos to humour her, and her revenge was carried out; or she was killed, and her revenge was carried out.
Lady Danum watched Thanos, as there was nothing else to do. His mind worked slowly, and the cogs were resistant to turn. Pah, she had hoped he would be swifter than this. But perhaps he was suffering from grief and stress, something truly terrible must have occurred to this man...
Rhiann darkly amused thoughts were broken by the arrival of Count Grosvner dragging her man closer, then speaking up his verdict. Rhiann's lips pursed with displeasure. She had already informed the Count that she had no intention of going to his estate. It was a tedious diversion and would come to no good for any party. Her green eyes flicked assessingly up and down Count Grosvner as he named her deceitful. It was true, of course, that she was the last person that should be trusted. But even the Black Widow would struggle to weave such a story without the physical proof. Besides, it was a perfect opportunity to strike at her enemies - the closest allies of Roland deGrada.

Bryce Cornwallis allowed himself to be dragged along by the Count, looking quite unperturbed at the experience of being shackled and a prisoner and a single man up against an army. Bloody hell there were a lot of these soldiers, with their shiny weapons and armour, and posh horses. No wonder his employer didn't want to attack directly.
Bryce grunted at the unnecessary kick from the Count.
"Treat dogs as bad, would ye?"
He muttered. Not the best response, but all he could come up with at the moment. His attention was stolen by the man - Duke Caras - pinning his mistress up against the carriage by the throat. Bryce felt a cold chill run down him, that anyone could do that. And wondering what the hell he was to do. Defer to the Black Widow... always defer to her, she knew best. Though his heart stilled for a moment as her eyes rested briefly on him, so detached and cold it left ice in his veins. He shivered.
Bryce's attention was finally distracted by the Duke's command, that he should be searched. Two of the Count's men moved forward, one pinning his already shackled arms to his side, and the other starting a laborious task of going through every layer of baggy, stinking clothing. Every now and then there was the thud of a blade being pulled out of its hiding place and hitting the ground.
"Oh yeah, you boys know your job. That's it, that's the spot."
Bryce groaned, squirming a little in the soldier's hold, as his colleague's hands went everywhere. The soldiers kept their decorum and professionalism, but turned slightly red with embarrassment. But finally they stopped.
"The boots, don't forget the boots!"
Bryce called out, lifting one foot expectantly. When the soldier removed them, finding another small blade tucked inside, Bryce sighed and wriggled his toes through the holes in his socks.
"Ah, I needed that. Sorry 'bout the smell boys, can't be helped."

Rhiann turned her head (as much as she could) to face away from this sight. Bryce Cornwallis was highly valued for his work, but the downside was his lack of manners. Ugh, odious man. But at least he was serving his purpose.
Rhiann sighed as the Duke demanded that the area be scouted. He could waste as much time and as many men as he wished, all he would find was Bryce's pathetic camp and two horses. Rhiann truly was so unaided.
Her eyes narrowed as Thanos' hand tightened again about her throat and he swore at her.
"They-"
Her words were cut off as Thanos threw her aside. Rhiann gasped for precious breath, the relief of which dulled the pain of her landing. Her black skirt pooled about her in an expensive shadow. Her hand rubbed the bruised area of her neck and her eyes struggled to refocus on the figure of the Duke who strode away from her and towards her employee.

And Bryce? Upon being the center of attention for a murderous looking Duke, his thoughts could be easily rounded up by two simple words. Oh shit.

[Isaiah Grosvner]

Duke Caras was at liberty to do as he pleased, and Count Grosvner was not going to object to any sort of treatment his Duke had in store for the Black Widow. In fact, doing so would be a poor choice and not in his benefit. The truth be told, the woman had still not convinced him that her lot was the right one. She could threaten him, but two could play that game. The King, despite his weaknesses, was still the King and thus could exercise his Royal Prerogative as he pleased, regardless if he was of proper blood or not. The Count had made a deal with Roland, and he could not let it fall through at all costs. Though often stereotyped as greedy and self-serving, the Grosvners were competent managers, and to ignore their wisdom and experience would not do well for the Duke of Kelyea. After all, despite their family differences, the Duke did pretty much keep the administrative aspects of Kelyea the same as the Grosvners and had consulted them for governance decisions before.

The Count knew that Rhiann was seriously unimpressed by his insistence to go to Grosvnersburg, and he didn't care. It was the last place she wanted to go, and that likely made it the best place. Too bad the Duke did not make Hanalei his official residence, the Grosvners always centralised their rule from Hanalei because it was the hub of Kelyea, and also for its defensive value from land and sea. But it seemed like they would be going to Hanalei, or at least in Isaiah's mind because he had an idea. But he did not say it yet, watching as his men searched Bryce and removed his hidden weapons. The Count only squinted with disdain as the man thought it was funny to make crude remarks.

The Count nodded as the Duke gave the command to search the area for more individuals. He turned back to one of his men. "Sir Brandon, split two groups and check the area as per His Grace's orders," he commanded. It was not long before Sir Brandon took some of the assorted men up front to search the area, though making sure it was a mix of all the men rather than just purely the Count's guards. The Count also pointed at his horn, reminding Duke Caras of his contingency plan he had explained to the man during their meeting in the capital. Isaiah had ensured there was reinforcements nearby in case things did go sour. He just wanted the Duke to remember, lest he forgot that in his rage.

"Your Grace, we should make for Hanalei," he emphasized once again. The Count looked at Rhiann, Bryce, and then back at Duke Caras. "We will encounter your brother on the way, and I can have ships set sail for Castle Caras," he explained. That was the strategy he had been musing over for the last few minutes, and travel by sea, though longer around the coast in length, it would be faster travel than on horseback. They could stock up, and sail a large host of ships up north and land with a sizeable counter-attack force if what Rhiann Danum said was true. If not, it would be a further waste of time and resources. "We would get there faster by sea, and we can move many men if we need be. I have many marines in my naval forces at our disposal," he reasoned, offering the soldiers that served within his navy to assist his Duke.

---

((OOC: Sorry if there is spelling and grammar mistakes. I just got to my destination this evening after a long drive, and this computer does not have any word processing tools on it, so please ignore them, or if you are admin feel free to edit this for me. Trying to keep it simple for you guys.)).

[Thanos Caras]

Thanos Alexandros Caras the Second was a man of liberty -- not of a political standpoint,of course, but simply a man who enjoyed the concept of having liberty. He enjoyed having freedom, without the influence of others guiding him, and preferred to think he was a man capable of sound and well-rounded judgment; however, were this true, he might have perhaps portrayed himself to others to be a better man, rather than the debauched, festive-loving, comfortable-in-his-own-birthday-suit, blue-blooded male!
Perhaps if he had, he might have had a slim chance in hell to have had Cassandra de Winter as his wife. She would have been his second wife, but because little Iphi approved (and loved) the woman well, she would have been quite the mother.

The past was the past, but as much as the conniving little (well, not so little) bitch, whom he had already pushed out of his way and towards the ground, pissed him off, some shred of the fact, she had produced -- of all people -- Edmund du Nord the Second, pissed him off also. He should not have been hung up on it, but the truth was, the sores of the situation last year, still hurt.
[OOC: -kicks Ambrosia out of her head-]
Still, he would not allow it to affect his judgment for his said judgment was already askewed by Rhiann's all-of-a-sudden, spur-of-the-moment, drop-of-a-cowpie-on-Isaiah Grovsner's lap, proposition!
Hopefully, just hopefully Edmund had managed to get to the estate, in time, at the very least. If he had not... well...
...there was going to be additional problems...

Speaking of additional problems, this associate of hers, wasn't doing her any justice, by how he was acting. Quite the fellow he was and had this been a better day, Thanos might have felt a pang of amusement by his very actions. Simply terrible he was!
Twas also terrible when this man, shackled as he was, was having knives pulled out of places where the sun did not usually shine, bluntly speaking. Or... had one not been found yet, of that nature, hm? Why hadn't Isaiah's men not searched him earlier? Details... details were being overlooked! At least now he was willing enough to go towards Bryce.
Fighting a shackled, now unarmed man? Mmmmnnn, no. Something about killing him might have made Thanos feel better, but for each stride he made towards him, Isaiah was speaking.

This forced him to cut his eyes in the Count of Hoei's direction, his vision cold and unforgiving as he looked him over.How quick he was, to offer such nonsense and ideas! At least he had the gall to listen to him, rather than Rhiann!
Where or rather, who, was he allied with? Was he simply looking out for his own best interests? The thoughts, snippy as they were, bombarded Thanos's throbbing head and as he reached out to take hold of Bryce's shirt to jerk him towards him, he gave a brief pause.

Things of this nature were not meant to be discussed in front of an alleyway cur and apparently, his accomplice, a lowly bitch wh- who...
Well, now that was something...
Due to the size of the company, he felt an icy smirk beginning to form on his face, his golden-brown eyes never leaving the sight of Bryce's face.
"...'ave a family?" The question was short, abrupt even as he went to fully accomplish the action he intended to do earlier. Grip the shirt, jerk him to him, and stare him down.
All the while though, those frightening cogs and wheels in Thanos's head were turning and before he knew it, he found himself saying rather bluntly, in a statement directed towards Isaiah.

"T'e s'ips will sail, but until t'en... t'row t'e bitc' to t'e men until your boys return. Surely some will want to 'ave at 'er. T'ey been wit'out a woman's touc' for well over a weeks time. Some longer... w'o knows... maybe s'e'll t'aw out."

Flexing his grip, eyes still on Bryce coldly. He finally sought to pull on that bloody shirt of his, hell, even if it was possible to pull him up on his toes, he uhhhh, would have tried! The next question that popped coldly out of his mouth, was uh...
"Ye' want 'at 'er first, 'm? 'less ye' want to see 'ow uncomfortable aye' can make ye'? Per'aps ye' 'ave somet'ing good to say, un'like the w'ore over t'ere..."

...Where was Thanos going with this? Uh....

[Rhiann]

Bryce lost a lot of his bravado as the Duke stepped towards him. He shifted to move back, but felt the solid barrier of the Count of Hoei's men stopping his retreat. He could do little when the Duke gripped his shirt - well, he could probably have fought back, it was what he was trained to do after all; but what was the point, even if he did incapacitate the Duke there were hundreds more armed men. He would be very much dead, very quickly indeed.
Bryce grimaced as Thanos jerked him close, he felt thoroughly bruised underneath his bloodied and soiled clothes. His eyes widened in shock at the Duke's question, and his legs instinctively closed protectively. Bloody hell this bloke was tall close to.
"N-none that would miss me."
He replied, the honesty being knocked out of him. It was true enough - there were women and children dotted about Tetel'ac, but none that would wish to claim Bryce Cornwallis as kin. And suddenly Bryce knew he was going to die.
He wondered if this was why the Black Widow had selected him for the role, because he had no attachments in this world, no one to mourn him. But then he remembered who he was dealing with - the cruel witch would care nothing about tearing apart a hundred loving families.
Bryce gulped and bit his tongue as the Duke commanded the ships to sail. Things were really not going his mistress' way. His eyes strained to look in the direction of the Count - that treacherous bugger would switch allegiences in a heartbeat. Should Bryce follow suit? See if his miserable life could be salvaged?
He near choked as the Duke increased his hold on him. His pulse sped as Thanos made his ultimatum. That Bryce be painfully tortured and killed; or rape the woman he served, and then probably killed, or mutilated and left alive.
Bryce couldn't help but look at the Black Widow at this point, but his gaze did not last long. And he quickly dropped it in defeat. He would dearly love a chance to survive this.

And Rhiann? Her thoughts will remain her own in this moment of time.

[Isaiah Grosvner]

The past could not be undone, but it didn't mean men looked back on it in regret and wondered if things had been different. If the past had been different Thanos Caras II would have likely remained a mere Lord and never got on the radar of Duchess Cassandra de Winter. If the past had been different Duke Edmund du Nord I would have heeded the advice of his cousin Duke Cyrus Grosvner to not marry into the disgraced Danum family. The occurrences of yesterday shaped today, and would come to pass today would mould the future. If Thanos thought he was hurt by problems of the past, well the Grosvners were haunted by it. This was truly one big circle of madness and bitterness. Isaiah had known the first Edmund du Nord, though not as good as his father did, but he did notice the man changed quite drastically after marrying Rhiann. Cyrus invited Edmund to functions, often leaving Rhiann out, and the man even refused to go to du Nord events because Rhiann was there. On the other hand Isaiah's mother often went. It seemed both Edmund du Nord I and Cyrus Grosvner were cursed with marrying treacherous women that resulted in their deaths. This is why Isaiah learned to be careful when marrying, to find a woman who was not a hazard to his health or longevity.

Isaiah's face remained stone cold as he caught the Duke's glare, and he looked down. Well the Count had just made a strategic offer in front of the Black Widow and her unfortunate lackey. Well it could not change two much if they were both gagged and prevented from communicating with others. He also noticed Bryce look at him, and he gave the man a cold, hard stare. Oh the Duke would take Rhiann, and likely the Duke would send Bryce to be taken care of in the hands of Count Grosvner. Well Isaiah was not much of a person for torture, though there was always a time to start, he had a reputation for serving deaths by hanging at sea. Sometimes it was the quick, merciful hanging where a neck would snap quickly, other times it was the slow, painful choking that made one grasp in agony as they fought for breath against gravity pulling them down.

It was true the Regesvard had spread rumours about the wavering loyalty of the Grosvners, a malicious smear of one of the strongest families in Tetel'ac. Unfortunately for the Grosvners many of their allies in the other duchies perished during the Civil War, the only allies remaining are the old families of Kelyea that remained loyal to them, even in their lower status. Though there was some truth in Isaiah hearing plans out and weighing the positives and negatives, he was known for accepting good ideas and scrapping ideas that were bad. Part of the reason he had been so successful in maintaining the status of the Grosvner family was because he was a man who made deals, and deals required some flexibility. Sometimes others would make better deals, or counter some. In the case of this situation he had made a deal with the King, and he found Rhiann to be lacking in any sort of deal that could persuade him. The Count of Hoei was not often one to take unnecessary risk, unless there was some certainty of gaining from it.

"Yes sir," he replied to the Duke's comments. Well preparing the ships to move upon Castle Caras was a good idea that would happen, but the rest of what the Duke said made Isaiah glance over at Rhiann. Literally it would be a waste of time to let every man rape Rhiann, and morally Isaiah was not usually into such forms of punishment. He walked over to Rhiann and looked down at her, his eyes looking at her hands and frowning. He stepped aside, thinking to himself what he was going to do. There was a gleam in his eyes as he thought of something, but a moment later it went away. He would make sure there was some use in Rhiann before her use was no longer needed.

The men that Isaiah had sent out returned to the group and informed them the area was clear, minus Isaiah's contingency plan that Thanos was well aware of. "Your Grace, there is no sign of anyone in the surrounding areas. We better prepare a plan of action, after you are finished with our two prisoners," he stated. The ball was back in Duke Caras' hands, as he was the man who needed to make the final decision in this case. Isaiah was charged with transport of Rhiann, but the Black Widow was sneaky, and now the situation had drawn the Duke's involvement. The Duke and Count would need to work together to resolve this situation, and as it stood it was far from over at this point.