The Master of Ones home.

(Gaming related post)
Keyvahna watched as Orndurst and Gelevelle did battle out in the main courtyard. Gelevelle was a great offensive fighter, but he didnt have much in the way of stamina, and stamina mattered on the battlefield, most often more than simple sheer strength. Neither of them however, were very clever. Keyvahna went back into her home, making her way past her servants. She was always a woman of few words, and used formalities to adress her servants and attendants. She was a proud and regal woman of ravenspire, she had her honor, she had her duties, and she was not to be taken lightly. Keyvahna was a tall beauty, she had not the elegance of Alzaroths wife, but had an intense and strong beauty. Long black hair, dark eyes, a palor to her skin that was both elegant and macabre. The pregnancy was a great gift from the mother of creation, and it was her duty to see to it that her unborn child would come to the world healthy and ready for the harsh reality that was Ravenspire. But Keyvahna had other business to attend today. Her husband would be up soon and in the training yard. If he wasnt trying to lay with her, he was trying to improve himself on the battlefield. He was dull to be sure, but he was dependable, and predictable. She respected the situation she was in, and was duty bound create a long lasting, healthy line to be honored for the ages. That was enough. Not all battles were so easy to win however. Almost on que Keyvahna noticed a small black cat looming by the kitchen door. She eyed the thing, a companion of Alzaroths, and made for the kitchen, shooing away the servants there. "Here then cat. Have at some cream." She set the small delicate bowl of cream on the floor and admired the creature. As he moved to the bowl her thoughts moved to the faults of her husband, to the things in life she desired as a youth, that she would never have now. The dark cat looked at her, then moved to the bowl, so intent on the cream and its deception that it failed to notice the small line of sea salt before its paw had moved over the surface. Keyvahna smirked. "No dark cat, thing of the obsidian king. You have no power here." Gloom found that he could not move, having stepped into the circle he was powerless. How, how could she know. She reached down and removed the bowl, underneath it was a small silver pendant of a long eared rabit. Gloom hissed but could not move. Carefully Keyvahna bit the tip of her finger enough to draw blood, then reaching out she dipped it in the salt, touched it to the silver then began tracing it along the side of gloom, who hissed in sheer agony. "First is my name. Second is my husbands name, and third is the symbol of my children. Test not these words, or they will turn your body to ash, and let it be blown away by the purity of tor'kir." The words glowed and burned a deep red, and vanished into the body of the cat. "Mine is an old family Gloom of Fayn. Word of Evil. Your weakness has had ages to be told. Are you suprised those in this common age have not forgotten your horrible deeds of the past. Take your poisons from this house, and never set foot in it again. You have the borrowed strength and powers of your predicessors, there names, and there weaknesses. I know most, as does the majority of my family, there branches, and the sects that dedicate themselves to tor'kir and banishing your kind and the vile undead of this world." She put the tip of her finger to her lip, enhaled a quick breath and then spit onto gloom. "That blood is your death. My blood, my families blood, will end you should you interfere with it, and the salt will follow your body for all days should strike down even one. We will see you destroyed, Gloom of Fayn. Begone. You have no power here." And as the mantra was said, gloom began fading, hissing all the while, as his power and essence were transfered outside the house, the gates, and finally onto the street outside. Gloom had underestimated that opponent. Foolish. Tassel had found his weakness, surely there were others, survivors that remembered the old ways, the old rites. He would leave her alone, she was an enemy to be sure, but one he could not attack directly. Best to let that house be, for now. Time was a battleground he was familiar with, but it seemed so to was her family. He had no advantage here, and battles fought without advantage were seldom won. Defeated, the black cat hissed once more at the manor and vanished back to his master. Keyvahna cleaned up, and ignored a servant who inquired about the commotion a moment ago. Her husband did not need to know of this. He more than likely already knew something of the creature, but probably not the depths that she and her family did. The charm and rite worked, just like the old books and tales had said. Best to touch up on a bit more old lore, now that it seemed such knowledge would prove useful. Without giving it another thought, the proud, powerful daughter of ravenspire made her way from the kitchen to attend to her husband.