forum Fallen ((closed - oxo ))

Started January 23, 2022 by @ElderGod-Carrots

tune

Indrigos is a place of hope and wonder, the pinnacle of the continent. A wondrous place filled with love and prosperity. Rivers run wild through the cobbled streets, large gardens of wildflowers grace the sides. Magical lights litter the sky at night and add to the sea of stars above. But a darkness is coming, filling every corner of this magical city, leaving the people worried and scared.

A sickness has arrived in Indrigos. No one knows how it got there, who brought it in, but it's deadly, killing anyone within a matter of days once they catch the deadly illness. It has no name, but everyone knows of it.
Not only that, but people have started going missing. Bodies are turning up in the streets bloody, dismantled, torn apart, gruesomely brutalised. People think it might be related to the illness, but no one knows for sure.

On the night of the winter solstice, the prince winds up dead amidst the biggest festival of the year. The injuries line up with that of the killers plaguing the city. It's not long after that when the king becomes sick, and the best the healers can do for the ruler is keep him alive long enough to enlist the help of the Captain of the Royal Guard, along with a member of the investigative group, The Voyants, to figure out what's happening to the city before it's too late.

---

Alrighty! I shouldn't be making another rp, but here goes, I have a character I wanna use so why not:)

The basic gist is this will be high fantasy, mystery investigative story where your character, the Captain, and my character, the Voyant, will go on a hunt to find what's killing the citizens of Indrigos and if it's related to the sickness. It will probably be romance, too, and will either be mlm or nblm, so if that isn't your thing, this rp isn't for you.

Now fair warning, because of time zones, as well as preparing for my senior year to start in a week, I probably won't be active much apart from this coming week, so if you like fast rp's this also isn't the story for you. So there's no need to reply every day if you can't, I completely understand!

This is a super loose idea at the moment because it's late and I'm tired, I just have a character I want to use and then this happened, feel free to add some spice of your own! I love combining ideas and talking about what to include and how to incorporate ideas.

Rules and tings:

• The setting is high fantasy, so no guns, modern tech, any of that shit. Magic, ofc, is okay! But just don't go overboard, it has limits, and being overpowered is boring
• If you don't want romance, let me know! I'm chill with it, and I don't bite, questions are welcome
• If I don't know you're writing style, I will ask for a sample, and I can reject you if I wish and your style doesn't fit. It's nothing against you! It's just personal preference
• Please, please, please don't just write one fucking sentence! Looking for more of an experienced rp'er. Paragraphs are welcome and enjoyed! Stuff to build off of! It makes things so much more interesting, and if you know my writing style, you'll know this already (The Raven is a good example of this - if you haven't seen me around, I recommend you have a glance at it before asking to join so you know how I write:) because I might not be right for you!)
• Punctuation, spelling, grammar, all that, please use it, I'll love you if you do
• andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer)'s rules ofc
• Don't be a dick. Characters can be, but not you, and don't use it as an excuse please and thank you
• No slurs or anything
• Swearing is okay, (not at me ofc lol) but in the rp, along with high gore, smut (if it happens, it will be taken to dms), and all that fun stuff, go crazy. If you have any triggers, let me know, because it might get quite dark
• Have fun! I don't want to seem like I'm the fun police, I'm super chill and laid back:)

I think that's it for now, I'll post the temp if anyone is interested. Again, feel free to ask questions and so on, I'm happy to answer any.

(here ya go!)

Tonan kicked her feet up on the wagon, fidgeting with some bolts on her arm and, on occasion, flexing it to get a sense of how her tendons were functioning.

"How's your arm?" Aelias piped up, having watched her check up on her arm with interest. It had always intrigued him how she had been able to manufacture a new limb for herself.

"Eh, it's good enough," she replied easily. "Might want to start replacing some parts soon, though; looks like it's rusting a little bit near the wrist. Haven't quite perfected that part yet."

"Would the rust make it stop working?"

"In the sense that I wouldn't be able to move my wrist, yeah, but it was magic that got my arm to work in tune with my brain. Even if I took off my arm now, see—"

Tonan detached her arm from its socket, holding it out for Aelias to observe. Its metallic fingers clasped into a fist before they extended again and wiggled in a demonstration of flexibility. Aelias raised an eyebrow. "Impressive."

Tonan nodded in return, a giddy smile spreading across her face. "Taking apart bits and pieces won't affect its connection to me. It technically falls under the 'possessed object' branch of enchanted items, so only complete destruction can make it stop working, which is already a way bigger advantage over an actual organic arm. I don't have to worry about blood loss or going into shock, like what happened when I originally lost my arm."

Aelias didn't immediately respond, seemingly having retreated to his thoughts. After a minute, his gaze lifted from the ground, and he faced Tonan again with a new curiosity.

"You think I could make an eye the same way you made an arm?"

Tonan's brow furrowed, and now it was her turn to take a moment and reflect.

"Maybe," she finally answered. "And I say maybe because we could certainly jam a metal ball in your skull and get it to move like an eyeball, but I'm not so sure we could make it see things."

Aelias chuckled, his laughter fading into a defeated sigh. "Well, it was worth a shot."

Tonan shoved her arm back into its socket, sitting upright once more and stretching, a long yawn escaping her. "Hey, but you never know. Maybe one day, when people get the hang of mixing machines and magic."

The Director nodded his agreement, yet seemed more interested in the immediate ability to see well again as opposed to hoping something came up in the future. He turned his attention back towards observing his surroundings, no less alert than before.

(Nice! You look good to go:)) Here’s the template, I’ll quickly post my guy before I head to bed since it’s 2 am for me, but I’ll have the prompt up in the morning. Also - if you don’t want a romance, lemme know!)

Name:
Age: (22-25 preferably)
Gender:
Sexuality:

Species:
Appearance:
Abilities:

Personality:
Weaknesses:
Strengths:

Background:

Other:

Name: Emrys Calgohan
Age: 23
Gender: male
Sexuality: queer, but no label

Species: half-human, half earth spirit
Abilities: Basic control of the earth/earth manipulation, faster than the average person, heightened hearing
Appearance: Emrys is around 5'11, though more towards the smaller end of that measurement. He is very lithe, though has a fair amount of muscle mass. Being thin, he is very quick, small, able to fit into places where he shouldn't be, and it makes him easy to hide. He has pale skin with olive/green undertones, courtesy of that earth spirit in him. He is very light weight wise. Boney with lots of visible veins. He has sharp, defined features, bright green eyes that almost seem to glow, thin lips, a scattering of light freckles. His overall appearance is very innocent-looking, and as much as it used to both Emrys, he has found he can use that to his advantage now. He has light brown hair, slightly curly, falls gently across his face and trickles his neck. He tends to wear pretty light clothing, mostly in earth tones and colours. Has a scattering of daggers hidden across his body most of the time. He has a left ear piercing with a simple, silver hoop. Long lashes, and an eyebrow slit over his left brow. Has a tattoo on both his shoulders of multiple different flowers, animals, and earth-related things, he also has a large scar down his back from when he got into a fight when he was younger and nearly died.

Personality: Emrys' personality is… interesting. He switches often from being fairly outgoing to quite introverted. Knows how to manipulate people to get his own way, even if he doesn't necessarily like doing so all that much. Outgoing to those that he likes, he doesn't hide his true self. For a guy that comes across as quite innocent, he is quite the opposite. Crude humour, vicious, dangerous when he decides he wants to be. When he has his mindset on something nothing will stop him from going out and getting it, no matter the cost or expense of himself. Fiercely loyal to those he loves and likes would lay down his life for you. Not afraid to speak his mind or stand up for what he believes is right. Even though he knows how to manipulate others, he often falls for his own tricks if it's from the right person. Sentimental, tries to hide his emotions but isn't very good at that and thus tends to wear his heart on his sleeve when not focused on trying to keep his true feelings a secret. Has a pretty bad temper on him, too, if provoked enough.
Strengths: Stealth, speed, he is very good at missions or jobs that require maximum sneakiness due to how light and skinny he is. Manipulation of other people, and the earth
Weaknesses: Not the best with hand to hand combat. He is good at avoiding attacks, not so good at dishing them out. Swords are a huge problem for him, as well as heavy lifting. Emrys is more of an attack from the distance/with magic type of person (although too much magic = him fainting and feeling pretty unwell).

Background: Emrys was born to a human dad and an earth spirit mother. His dad was a lord and met his mum when he first moved to his lands a few years before he was born. He had no siblings as before his parents could have another child, his mum was killed hunted for her power and guardianship over the lands surrounding his dad's place. He learnt how to use his powers from his grandad, how introduced him not only to his skills but also to the world of spirits. As he was a half-spirit, his powers and connection to the earth weren't as strong as his grandads, but he compensated with the fact that he got really fast and really stealthy. Was a trouble maker when he was in his teenage years but grew out of that once his grandad died. His dad and he weren't the closest, and he grew more distant as the years went on. Soon they lost contact with each other, but from what Emrys knows, his dad is still alive (he hopes). As much as they weren't close, he does love him.

Other: He is a big fan of water and flowers. Anything nature is good but those two are top tier for him. Hasn't been in love before, doesn't think he ever will be, as much as he wishes he was. Loves books and reading, a big lover of head scratches (seriously, he's probably fall for you then and there if you gave him a head massage).

Name: Dalethan (dáh-leh-then) Throne
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Biromantic Asexual
Species: Human

Appearance: Dalethan stands at a sturdy 6’0’’ with a large, strong build. His skin is dark, freckles heavily scattered across his features, his face gentle and with traces of youth despite his mostly tired outward appearance. He has central heterochromia, his eyes a soft blue with a bit of brown trickling from his irises. While on the job, he’s usually seen decked out in a full set of heavy armor, complete with the usual embellishments for the Captain of the Royal Guard. His dark brown hair is pulled up into a braided bun and decorated modestly with ribbons, and when down, it falls to his shoulders. When not on duty, he’s usually dressed in formal but comfortable attire. Both his earlobes are pierced, and he mostly just wears studs.

Abilities: Proficient with the greatsword and the bow. Is also a skilled strategist and sharp thinker that can improvise new plans on the fly when the original goes awry.

Personality: Dalethan Throne is a perfectionist. He accepts nothing but the best from himself and those around him, and even then demands improvement. He takes his position as Captain seriously, but is humble and receptive to criticism — after all, criticism from others brings his attention towards a mistake, and he cannot allow mistakes. He is prone to overworking himself, and as such is often tired and aloof when dealing with other people directly. His work ethic is admirable, yet the only thing that seems to stop him is overwhelming exhaustion, to the point where seeing the Captain passed out in his office has become a common sight within the Royal Guard. Dalethan is generally regarded with respect within the Guard, but a few still remain wary of him given the unique history of House Throne. His perfectionism is born from deep-rooted anxiety and prominent imposter syndrome, both of which he is aware of, but refuses to show.

Weaknesses: Completely incapable of magic, and it even seems like magic has turned against him. One might think his impeccable concentration and self-control would make him a perfect fit for wielding magic, but for some reason casting spells is utterly impossible. In addition, harmful spells seem to be extra effective against him, while helpful spells have no effect at all. Given that Dalethan is someone trained in up front, forward combat, he isn’t exactly the stealthy type. Subterfuge is not his forte.

Strengths: Dalethan’s skill with a greatsword is nearly unmatched, given that it’s his weapon of choice. While not as proficient, he is capable of wielding a bow efficiently as well, and if desperate enough can take to most other weapons without much trouble. He’s also physically strong and has a lot of endurance.

Background: Dalethan Throne was born into the wealthy House Throne, a noble family within Indrigos that carries a burdened history. His mother was a diplomat and his father was an artisan, but he wasn’t particularly close to either of them, given their professions took up most of their time. The prominent guardian figures in his life were his two aunts, who had cast aside their noble lineage in favor of the mercenary’s path, and as a child Dalethan was always ecstatic to see them return with tales of their adventures. It was from them that he learned of his family’s history and the traitorous actions of his great grandparents that left each subsequent blood-related member of the family completely detached from the realm of magic. Dalethan wanted to be more than a victim of his family’s curse, and so joined the Royal Guard when he turned 18. Training under his aunts, he rose the ranks quickly, and by the time he turned 24 accomplished the rank of Captain. He continues to test his limits, refusing to be held back by his weakness to magic and the reputation of his family, yet does notice the weight coming from a "cursed" family carries. He sees people clutch their belongings, cast suspicious glances his way, and whisper among themselves — but thankfully, the dedication he has for his position seems to discourage any upfront disrespect.

Other: Dalethan’s aunts are retired, but alive and well. He’s very close to them and writes letters to them often. His relationship with his parents, on the other hand, is strained — they disapprove of his chosen path, preferring that he live a quiet, less involved life like themselves out of fear for his safety.

(Aw he's great! Here's the starter)

No one had expected the body of the Crown Prince of Indrigos to show up on the night of the Winter Solstice, but the brutalised body that lay splayed out on the cobbled stone now red with the blood of the young man was undeniably him.

The Festival of Stars, celebrated once a year on the longest night, was one that couldn't be missed. From the silver and blue fireworks that danced across the dark sky, to the twinkling of lights that were strung up in front of businesses, homes, and stalls, it was a sight to behold in the magnificent city, and not even the deadliest illness to plague the city for millennia, could stop the peoples of Indrigos from a party, especially, this party.

But the terror that shook the city to the core, the sight of the mangled body of the beloved prince, was enough to send cries echoing around the filled streets of wonder. It hadn't been the first body to show up over the past months, but no one would have presumed that the prince would end up as a victim of the elusive killer. Not even those who protected him with such ferocity could have prevented the killing. The fear that had welded its way into the hearts of the Indrigos citizens was as deadly as the illness itself, and on a night where they had chosen to ignore that horrible feeling, the night of wine and dancing until the moon began to set over the horizon, was cut short.

The Voyants weren't a secretive group. They had lived in the kingdom of Indrigos for as long as it stood. As much as they had been working in their home for generations, gaining more members from all races and all magical properties, most of the peoples stayed away, not unless they were desperate for help from those skilled enough. Generally, it was lords and nobles who called upon the Voyants for help. To find an assassin, a missing heirloom, uncover a plot to destroy their house, and the Royals weren't shy of calling for the masters of stealth and magic to help. They paid handsomely, too, but it wasn't about the money for most Voyants. Voyants such as Emrys.

To receive a letter from the King was far from boring, except when his son had just been killed, and the letter informing the Voyants that one was needed urgently at the palace, it was more frightening than exciting. When the letter detailed that the mysterious illness that had reached its way into the palace, Emrys was the only one who was willing to go, even at the cost of contracting the terrible plague.

The young magic-user had only been to the palace twice, both times had been on business with other Voyants, but he had never gone alone, up till now. The click of his boots echoing throughout the marble halls of the grand palace couldn't stop his heart from beating, taking in the towering portraits and glass chandeliers that graced the ceiling as if they were stars themselves. Emrys had an inkling as to why he was here, what the King had left out in his letter. On the night where his son was dead and he himself was falling ill with no cure, there could only be one reason as to why a Voyant would have been called to the bedside of a man as great of the King of Indrigos.

(aa thank you!! :D)

This shouldn't have happened.

That was the sole thought floating around in Dalethan's mind. It tore into his chest, bore its teeth into his heart and ripped through as if it were a starving wolf staggered over the corpse of an elk. A melodramatic description, but one that accurately relayed just how much pain the captain was in.

This shouldn't have happened. Not to the prince, not during the Festival of Stars.

He buried his face into his hands, completely unable to focus on the paperwork that littered his desk. His whole damned job was to protect the royal family. He'd spent days going over the structure of security with the rest of the Guard, even went out there and rehearsed the routine until everyone had it memorized, all in an attempt to make sure the royal family stayed safe and the festival went as planned. Yet somehow, someone slipped through what he'd thought was an impregnable defense. Now the Prince was dead, the King was ill, and, Gods… all he could do was sit in here and feel sorry for himself, huh? And he sat here in the Captain's Quarters like he deserved the position?

Before his thoughts could spiral any further, the door to his office swung open. Dalethan lifted his head to meet the eyes of one of his subordinates, a spunky younger fellow with orange hair and determined green eyes — a man Dalethan remembered to be spritely and full of heart. Yet it seemed the prince’s death had sullied even his spirits, and he sounded just as tired as he looked. Even still, he saluted his captain.

“Captain Throne.”

“At ease, Valgaard. What did you need?”

“A courier came by just a few moments ago, told me you received a letter from the King. I’m here to give it to you.”

His stomach dropped. Oh, he was absolutely about to be fired.

“Thank you,” he breathed, forcing his tone to stay even as the colonel handed him the letter. The young man saluted once more before leaving the office, shutting the door behind him. Dalethan sat back down, holding the letter in his trembling hands. Did he dare open it?

Of course he did. He was no coward. If this really was the end of his career, he deserved it, and he’d face the consequences of his failure the same way he’d face a foe in battle.

But when he did open it, he was greeted not with a termination, but a request to visit. An urgent request.

…oh, goody, the king wanted to fire him in person.

---

Dalethan had been in the palace numerous times. He knew the place like he knew the back of his own hand — he had to know in order to keep it safe. Yet this time he paid close attention to each passing detail, under the belief that it would be the last time he ever could. He opened the door to the king's quarters, surprised to see another fellow already present at the king's bedside, but running with the assumption that he had a purpose in being here.

He knelt once he approached the king, bowing his head. "My King. I'm answering your summons."

The king was a sight to behold in this state, and Emrys had to restrain himself from wincing before he offered a bow to the old man. His face was deteriorating, not just from old age, but the illness that had struck him. Half of it was barely a face anymore, covered in black and blue and purple that resembled bruising but it seemed to move on its own, like it was alive, a snake under the skin and trapping the veins. Emrys could sense it when he walked in, the unnaturalness, made him uneasy, weary and frowning terribly. The man who walked in, Emrys knew had to be a Captain, from the way he held himself and the decorated armour he wore, there was no way he wasn't, and if Emrys was being honest with himself he looked quite terrifying.

With a cough, a wave of his boney hand, the King motioned for them to come closer, steadying himself before he spoke, "Throne, Voyant," His voice was harsh, dry, as if he hadn't had enough water, or any water, for at least a month, "As you have heard, my son was killed, tonight." He paused. Speaking, it seemed, was becoming difficult, and Emrys knew the healers in the room were losing strength to keep the king alive.

"There isn't much time, I have sent word for- for my sister, her children, to come to take my place," With no other living heir, it was the only option left, "Until then, I need you, to find out who did this, and stop- and stop them, before anyone else dies."

There was no way Emrys could refuse the King's final request. As much as the prospect of trying to catch an illusive killer, and try not to contact the hideous disease, he couldn't say no, or find someone else to do so, as much as his head yelled at him to do so, "Of course, Your Highness."

Dalethan rose as the king motioned him closer, and he did his best to make sure his expression remained neutral at the sight of the plague, despite the initial horror that seized him.

How terrifying. He could hardly stand to look at the writhing mass on the king's face, and dread now churned his stomach for a completely different reason. Now that he was staring this illness in the face, the reality of Indrigos' predicament was finally settling in for him. They'd lost their prince, they were about to lose their king, and this horrible plague was still ravaging the kingdom…

Gods help them all.

Yet the king's request had caught his attention.

So he wasn't getting fired. The wave of relief that washed over him, however, was quickly snuffed out by fresh anxiety. He wasn't fired, but he was now tasked with what, up to this point, had been prevously been considered impossible — pinpointing the killer without getting sick.

"It will be done, Your Majesty," he replied without thinking. Of course he'd say that, he'd be a fool to turn down any order from the king, but he'd be lying if he said he had high hopes for the mission.

He cast a glance at the man beside him. A smaller man with a thinner frame, dressed in earthy tones and with a rather unassuming look to him. A Voyant, he recalled the king mentioning.

Dalethan frowned. He was working with a Voyant. He had no qualms against it, but…

Well, it was certainly unusual. Not that anything about this was the norm, ha ha.

He saluted his king — a goodbye, given this would probably be the last time the two would speak — and then departed the room, turning to face his appointed companion with a look of curiosity when they both had left.

"If we're in this together, I'm assuming introductions are in order," he began firmly, beginning to extend a hand in greeting before realizing it was probably not a good idea, given the plague. He cleared his throat. "Uhm, Dalethan Throne, Captain of the Royal Guard."

It was a breath of fresh air to leave that room. There were too many strange sensations, too much magic in one room, and Emrys couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when the door was closed shut behind them. He knew it would be the last time he saw the King, and he didn't know whether he would ever be able to free himself of the image of the tired, old man with half a face covered in magic he had only heard about in the books of old.

The echoing of their footsteps along the long hallways only filled the silence between them for a moment before the Captain, Delethan, replaced it with his own voice. He'd heard of them, the Throne's, their reputation, and Emrys wasn't a stranger to the stories of the Captain who worked tirelessly to protect the Royals, and came off a bit cold.

"Yes, I know who you are," Emrys replied, slipping his hands into his baggy brown pants, "Emrys Calgohan, Voyant." Magic-user, half spirit. From the way Dalethan reacted to hearing about them working together, Emrys could only assume his feelings towards people like himself.

"You heard the King, you're stuck with me on this case." No other Voyant would have wanted to go, not when their health was on the line, it was too dangerous to sacrifice some of the older, more experienced, magic users for this. If the time was right, Emrys could call for their help, but right now, they had no leads, just a dead body that ended up in the street from who knows where.

"We need to go back to where the prince was found, hopefully, it'll give us some clues about where it came from."

"It would seem I am," Dalethan replied cooly, not sure what to make of the Voyant's demeanor just yet.

At Emrys' suggestion, he couldn't help but shake his head. He still hadn't fully processed the reality that the prince was gone.

He wouldn't say he had been close to the prince on a personal level, but his job had pretty much required that he interact with the royal family, and so he had gotten to know the prince through observation and light conversation. The prince hadn't been beloved by the kingdom for no reason, and he himself had taken a liking to the boy, finding him a promising heir to the kingdom. To see his crumpled form on the ground, his blood pooling along the cobblestone… he closed his eyes and took a deep, deep breath.

Dalethan Throne was not a violent man. As a matter of fact, he actively avoided solving his problems with violence when he could. But the more he dwelled on the image of the lifeless boy, the more he wanted to drive his blade straight through the murderer.

Hah. Now that would get him fired.

He grit his teeth, realizing he'd lost himself to his thoughts, and sighed.

"Right," he murmured, breathless from getting so worked up, yet still maintained in composure. "I'd also like to find the people who first saw his body and see if they have any helpful information, but one thing at a time, yes?"

Emrys' gave Dalethan a look, one that conveyed that getting emotional and worked up about the case wasn't going to help. As much as he presumed what the Captain's relations to the prince were, his death had clearly hit him harder than Emrys. He'd never met the prince, only heard the stories about him, known what he had done, how he had helped the kingdom. It was a shame he had passed, and Emrys was saddened as much as the next Voyant.

"What do you suggest, then, Captain? If not to go and talk to those and scout the area?" The quicker they got the job done, the better. Emrys wasn't a fan of the idea that he could wind up dead because of this mission. It couldn't be a coincidence that the night the prince was murdered, the king winds up close to death itself, and if it was magic or someone who could wield magic doing this, the Voyant knew that they had limited time before more nobles wind up like the prince. No doubt the King's sister and her family would end up brutalised and displayed in the streets for citizens to see.

"I understand it's late, but we can't waste any time, the killer could strike again tonight." His magic wasn't as strong as those were full breeds, but the overwhelming stench of some form of magic was unbearable. Whatever was causing all this trouble, it had laced its way through the streets and coated every brick and flower. If someone like Emrys, with lesser magical abilities than that of some of his peers, it had to be bad.

"Oh, no, we'll go with your idea first. I hadn't implied we do otherwise," replied the captain, paying the look from the Voyant no mind. Best to let his feelings out now, lest they bite back later from being bottled up. He couldn't afford his judgement being clouded. "We should gather some idea of what happened before we question people about it, yes?"

He nodded solemnly. "Of course. Let us go, then."

Dalethan fell silent, returning to his thoughts as the two made their way out of the palace.

Left out in the streets. The killer wanted his body to be seen — they must have recognized the panic that would ensue at the sight of him. Then, was the prince murdered to end the royal bloodline, or cause a distraction? Would the panic have disguised their getaway, another murder, or…?

So many questions, and nothing to go off of just yet. As the two found the street the prince had been found on, Dalethan had feeling that things were about to get complicated.

"I wonder if they've taken the prince's body yet," he murmured to Emrys. "Do you think, if they haven't, they'll let us examine him?"

The streets of Indrigos were near empty by now, and the silence was deafening to Emrys, almost as unnerving as the magic. With the gentle light of the moon and the last of the lights flickering away, there was only just enough light to recognise where the street was. The smell was overwhelming before they even were close to where the body had been dumped. Maybe it was his connection to the earth and the world around him, but Emrys couldn't help the way his face scrunched as he moved closer.

"I don't see why they won't." As much as he could get people to do what he wanted, with the Captain by his side, and reporting on behalf of the king, there was no way they wouldn't get through. But Emrys was quick to recognise one of the guards standing watch, and, being quick to reach him before Dalethan, what followed was a hushed conversation and a stuttering knight.

Mere moments later, he was motioning for Dalethan to follow. The body was in view now. Limbs bent out of place, and his left leg entirely missing. Blood pooled not only around the open chest now ripped wide open to display his insides, but trickled down the cracks in the cobble. The prince's face was barely recognisable, but the emblem and the broken crown so carelessly thrown to the side was enough indication of who it was, regardless.

Before Dalethan could explain the situation to the knight, Emrys had taken control of the situation, and Dalethan only watched from a small distance as the two conversed, a subtle frown creasing his features. Well, at least it got that taken care of. Less talking he had to do; he could already feel the exhaustion creeping up on him. He'd gotten little sleep while he'd been planning for the Festival, and it seemed it'd be a few more nights before he could let himself sleep well.

He moved as Emrys gestured for him and knelt beside the prince, taking a good look at the state of his body. He grimaced, not just from the stench.

Dalethan wasn't a stranger to corpses, or death, or murder. But this? The boy's limbs dislocated, his chest eviscerated, face so mangled he could only be identified by his crown?

"Typical murder is usually quick. Quiet," he mused. "A stab, a slit, a strangling… not whatever the hell this is. The killer wanted to make a scene of the prince's death."

He picked up the broken crown, examining the cracks and missing gems carefully.

"I'd thought of this on the way here, and would like your input. Surely the killer would know what a stir the prince's death would cause, and here he is, splayed out on the ground, identifiable only by his emblem and crown. This was intentional, yes, but I'm wondering what exactly the killer would have wanted to cause such a panic over. Is this a show of hubris, or a distraction?"

Emrys crouched down by the side of the body, lifting the top of his shirt to cover his nose. Dalethan wasn't wrong. Why make such a display if not to draw attention away from something else? The illness was causing enough havoc as is, enough of a distraction for whatever was lurking in the sewers of the kingdom. Ever so slowly, Emrys lifted his hand over the body, the light, green glow emitting from it displaying the wounds in a better light, "The illness already has most of the kingdom scared shitless," He replied, frowning deeply, "Whoever is doing this, wants to make a point." With heads turned to figure out where this new plague was coming from and how to stop it, an entryway for someone to sneak through the cracks of the kingdoms broken walls was obvious. If they were going to strike, it was going to be now when they were vulnerable. With the Festival causing even the knights of Indringos to look the other way, now was the time to make a statement, and it was very obvious they had done just that, "You and the rest of the Guard are already preoccupied with dealing with all the sick civilians, and the occasional bodies. There's something deeper going on, that much is obvious, but I'm more afraid whatever it is, we might be too late to stop it."

Dalethan set the crown back down next to the prince's body, a frown set in his features. As Emrys offered his reasoning, he studied the now illuminated body.

"I wouldn't be so quick to say it's too late," he murmured, "but it's damn close, I'll give you that."

Dalethan rose to his feet, turning his eyes to the surrounding street.

"The what of the matter is obvious; someone's going around killing people and brutalizing their corpses. If we hope to get any further in our investigation, we need a why."

His brow furrowed, and he turned to look at Emrys.

"For now, though, we'll have to settle with finding the how. The prince wasn't killed here, obviously — this is the middle of the street, where the crowd was. So where was he killed?"

The captain folded his arms across his chest. "The security plan I established kept the prince with his family, under the direct supervision of myself and three other guardsfolk. Which means that during the festival, the prince could have either snuck off to mingle in the crowd and was subsequently abducted, the killer posed as one of the guards and lured the prince away, or perhaps was snatched right when none of us were looking."

He waved a hand. "Of course, these are all theories, and not a comprehensive list of every possibility; but I find these three scenarios the most plausible, unless you have suggestions."

Emrys hummed, kicking at a loose stone on the ground as he wandered around the body, "Clearly he wasn't under your supervision the whole time if he snuck off, or was taken." He said, raising a brow, "So, there must have been a point where you, and the guards, took your eyes off of him for this to happen. Can you remember when that might have been, and where you were? We can try and retrace your steps, and see where he could have gone." A shrug. It was the best plan he had. If the prince was supposed to be under direct supervision there had to be a point where Dalethan glanced away for even a moment. Whoever was doing this was smart, smarter than them, it seemed, if they could kidnap the prince without being seen by even Dalethan. They'd have to leave the body here for now, but Emrys knew they would have to move the body at some point. Morning would be closing in in a few hours, and they couldn't leave the body of the prince exposed for the kingdom to see. Those who had already seen the devastating sight were among the unfortunate to see how badly he had been killed, but no one else had to see the tragedy that lay on the floor in the pool of blood and bone and flesh.

Dalethan, arms still folded across his chest, now rested his chin in the palm of his hand and retreated deep into his thoughts, obviously attempting to recall the events of the Festival.

He grit his teeth and furrowed his brow as a realization seemed to dawn on him.

"The fireworks," he whispered, eyes lifting to stare at Emrys. "I took my eyes off the Royal Family to watch the fireworks show. Only then could something have happened to the prince, I'm sure of it."

He took one last glance at the prince before turning and making his way towards his station at the time — a platform for the Royal Family elevated in the center of the gathering. He walked up the steps and stood on the platform, mulling over the security plan.

"I was here," he began, pointing to a spot right next to the steps. "I'd stationed Valgaard at the bottom of the steps, Ire to the left, and Hasenure behind the Royal Family. I definitely looked up to watch the fireworks, so I wouldn't think it'd be incorrect to assume the others might have, too."

Dalethan turned again to face Emrys. "Likely the best time for something to go wrong, too, given that the thundering of the fireworks would do a good job covering up sound."