Strategem 01: Deceiving the Sky, Walking on Water

[Ariel]

"Only a fool expects everything to go the way they plan, Ariel. Another lesson for you. Success doesn't depend on having the perfect plan. It depends on changing plans to match circumstances fast enough for the changes to be effective. And that means spotting deviations from the predicted course of events early enough to have time for those changes." --Ariel's Father, on Tactics Being of Fell blood, Ariel realized, does not a tactician make. Combat was breaking out all over Plegia - more and more often they were bands of Royal Guards and Grimleal Mages clashing, but fighting they were all the same. More and more people were entering the conflict by the day, and now even these vagabond Knights from Ylisse seem desperate to join the fray. Fighting a single war against a single enemy was hard enough. Fighting a four-pronged war against ever-shifting enemies was madness incarnate. Strategy meetings were held almost daily, in an attempt to figure out when, where, and who to attack next, all acting on days-old information at best. At present there was a brief lull in the insanity to acquire dinner, which left the High Priestess just as she was before, only marginally less hungry. "Lord Grima, if you're a just and loyal God, do something to make this shit stop, if only for tonight..." While Ariel didn't expect her prayer to be answered instantly, she meant every word of what she had just uttered. If she had to play with those crude statues one more time... "High Priestess, dire news! Our building guards have been slaughtered to the man by a single enemy unit!" A messenger came running up the stairs, both pale-faced and out of breath. ...Well, she had certainly been vague in her request, but it was more than reason enough to not return to her War Room just yet. Staff in hand, The Grimleal's leader strode to the front door, equal parts curious and cautious of this devastating force, his or her power evident.

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[Camille]

Plegia was such an interesting place. There was so much culture here in this part of the world, even if much of it was a great deal darker than the rest of the places Camille was used to. Still, the massive, beautiful temples to their god Grima, the priests, the militarized police forces... it all brought together this wonderful aesthetic of control and power. She found it intoxicating, almost, the way the people of Plegia went about their lives. The nobles, especially, really piqued her interest - an entire sect of social elite, entirely devoted to the ideals of this country. It was breathtaking.

However, Camille stuck out like a sore thumb. Her long, flowing, immaculate white dress would draw a stark contrast with the dusty browns of the desert city. Not only that, that same dress, while beautiful and likely some artisan's masterwork, looked far too warm for this part of the world - which didn't seem to bother her at all. She didn't even seem to sweat with the heat.

The girl's rosy-pink hair was kept back with a matching rosy-pink braid, with not a single strand out of place. Tasteful cosmetics heightened her already remarkable beauty - and so, as she wandered the streets of the city, she'd draw more than a few gazes. They'd only fuel her ego, and her chin would somehow manage to get even higher.

A particular banner caught her eye, on one of the larger buildings she passed. It wasn't a temple, nor a palace, she knew - but that was most certainly the royal insignia. What was this? Alongside it, she could smell the scent of food cooking within. A noble banquet? A noble banquet that she was not invited to? No, that just wouldn't do. They'd for sure let her in. And so, with her usual air of nobility and grace, she moved towards the building, only to be accosted by two burly, armored guards, both with a set of weapons to match.

Naturally, they disagreed with her. Words were exchanged, and things quickly devolved. Camille was always the type to pull out somebodies insecurities, and soon after that, weapons were often drawn. Luckily for her, though, she didn't 'carry' any weapons - and nobody ever expected somebody that looked like her to have the force that she did.

She raised a hand, palm up, and in it flowed two separate energies - one bright and red, hot and fierce - the other, dark and cold amorphous and almost liquid in appearance. They wove around each other a mere moment, before folding onto itself into what appeared to be some sort of spike. Without a warning, the spike shot forth into one of the guards, piercing straight through the breastplate of his platemail, only for his entire body to seemingly explode from within, leaving only his armor, goopy and stained as it fell into the puddle of what was once a human.

Now, naturally, guards don't take kindly to their comrades becoming wallpaper, so they descended descended upon her in larger numbers - and much of the same happened to them, with slight variations in the way the actual application of magic ended them. Still, it was a sight to behold.

Once she'd torn through a good dozen or so guards, she carefully took the bell of her dress in the fingers of her pearly white gloves and lifted it up, stepping gracefully over a couple of the pools of once-human. And, once she got good and close to the door, she gave it a few soft knocks.

"Hello in there. May I please come in, now?"

[Ariel]

The overwhelming scent of copper was never one that Ariel appreciated - sure, the young woman was more than able to keep her stomach from turning without much issue, but that didn't quite stop the lingering stench from being a bit off-putting. The person on the other side of the door was equally off-putting. The Grimleal Priestess was expecting a veteran swordsman or ruthless axe-wielding blood knight, perhaps a dark and troubled spellcaster, but certainly not what appeared to be some noble's daughter wearing a formal gown and an innocent smile. In contrast, the brunette felt a bit under dressed, a simple set of dark robes clinging to her skin with a white coat draped over her shoulders. Still, there were dead Grimleal, and if this girl had killed them, she'd need a good reason. "So, were you sent to kill me, or is reckless slaughter a passion of yours?" There's no warmth in Ariel's voice, her staff held in front her her, crackling with magical energy. If this came to blows, she expected to at least survive long enough for her guard to step in.

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[Camille]

Camille just sort of stood there outside the door, waiting for her calls to be answered - her hands sliding down her form and flattening out the wrinkles in her dress that had formed in the scuffle. Amazingly, she hadn't gotten a single speck of blood, let alone dirt, upon her immaculate white dress.

Her smile slowly faded into more of a frown, though, as her calls remained unanswered. She raised her hand once more, pressing it to the hardened, steel door, and looked as if she had intended to knock - but even the slight touch against it was enough to cause it slooowly creak open. She looked down, blinking, only to realize the door had been damaged in the skirmish. She merely smiled and stepped through and into the building proper.

As she stepped through the threshold, her sparkling rosy eyes moved from place to place - taking note of just how many guards there were now converging upon her. Though, oddly enough, one of them didn't look like a guard at all - a shapely woman, with chocolate brown hair and great big blue eyes. She'd call the girl pretty, if she herself wasn't oh so much prettier.

She raised a hand, daintily clearing her throat a moment. "Ah, yes, finally somebody with some good blood in them and the class to show for it." She made a subtle hand motion towards Ariel as she spoke. "I insisted, several times, that I, Camille, must have been invited to a noble banquet such as this. They were however quite rude, so I did you the service of removing them from your ranks. I'm sure you'd have done the same."

[Ariel]

There are times where things seem to just go wrong, Ariel had learned, where nothing you do or could have done had any chance of affecting the outcome. The High Priestess had hoped, rather desperately at that, not to encounter those situations too often. No such luck, it seemed. While the crackling magical energy that enveloped the brunette's staff faded, she was still very suspicious of this interloper - they did slaughter over a dozen faithful, convinced this was some sort of...noble dinner? Either the young girl standing in front of the Plegian troubadour was insane, or she carried a propensity towards death that Ariel herself couldn't quite grasp. With a sharp glance to the guards, most of them either relaxed their pose or returned to the posts from whence they came, leaving Ariel alone with this rather demented person. "This is no banquet. Never was. I'm not really sure how you could even confuse it for such, given the complete lack of formality, notoriety, or finery we have for that kind of thing." The young woman started walking towards a corridor, indicating for Camille to follow closely. The building was old, Camille could tell, but well kept - no signs of distress or weariness as best she could see. Decor was sparse, most of it seemed more for function rather than form. Clearly this was not the place of holding people with hordes of gold, and even if it was that gold wasn't being spent on anything more than the essentials. "Now, I want you to explain, from the beginning, how things went that caused you to turn over a dozen guards into a wake of blood and viscera. After that I'll decide what to do with you." Ariel was sorely tempted to have her head lopped off and be done with it, but it'd be improper to have such an execution over a simple misunderstanding. How simple could it be, though, to have escalated that far?

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