Do or Die

"Do or Die" is an Extended Universe thread written on December 3, 2018.
==Summary==
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==Full Text==
The Warden: (several hours after the funeral of greg ericson…)
Deep in the gray forests of Evenglade Wood, all was hushed and still as a small drizzle pelted the massive, thorny treetops above, leaving the dark undergrowth only slightly damp. A bush rustled as a woman made her way through the thickets, fighting back the weedy branches that sought to entangle her legs and drag at her cowl. She had very dark skin and matching eyes, and her belongings and clothing spoke of a fur trapper–a heavy coat, a backpack dangling with pelts and several knives, thick boots and gloves, and a patterned scarf wrapped around her head and neck. She looked over her shoulder, scanning the trees behind her. Seeing nothing, she dropped to a crouch and slid off of a slate precipice that was taller than she was. Landing deftly, she continued down the stone riverbed, climbing down the rocky, uneven surface until she reached a sizable opening to her left.
Glancing around once more, she slipped inside. The tunnel that stretched forth from the cave opening was almost completely black, except for a very distant glow from around the corner. She stepped quietly over the cracked stone and stepped around the corner, blinking as the light of two lamps shone in her face. They were hung on the wall on either side of an imposing black door, with a very large skull carved into its face. The skull was painted with a red handprint.
She approached.
The Brotherhood: As the woman approached the air shifted growing colder and a low raspy voice whispered, what is the music of life. It seemed to be coming from the door. Of course the woman recognized that the door was enchanted and would only open for those who spoke the correct password, or if someone were to disable or overpower the lock through some magical means.
The Warden: “Silence, my brother.”
The Brotherhood: The voice remained low and raspy as it whispered, Welcome home. When she exited the loading screen. When she entered through the door she noticed the hall was surprisingly empty. Walking in a little ways she feels a knife tip against her back.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A rough voice asked her.
“Bjorn, what you doing?” Another voice asked in a not so hushed whisper.
“Dealing with the trespasser.”
“She must be an initiate, how else would she have got past the door.” The second voice replies as the knife is removed from the woman’s back.
The Warden: “Let me pass,” she said coldly. She showed not even the slightest sign of fear or intimidation at Bjorn’s blade. When he backed down, she turned to face him, staring hard. “You will take me to your group’s leader so that we may speak.”
The Brotherhood: These men had seen much, taken many lives, changed the course of history time and again with just the flick of their wrists, but there was a strange dark aura around this woman and it was as if her stare pierced into their very souls. This was not a woman to mess around with.
There was a brief coughing fit as the two masked men regained their composure. “Very well. If you are an initiate the Father will want to speak with you anyhow.”
They led her down a series of hallways until they reached a large circular room. A man with a trimmed beard sat on a stone throne a beam of light shining down on him, dim light scattering out from there.
As the two men entered with the woman the doors quickly shut behind them and about 5 figures materialized from the she shadows, various forms of weapons drawn. From knives to swords to bows and arrows and all were trained on the woman.
The man spoke in an even tone. “Bjorn, Carstad, what have you brought into our home.” He asked leaning forwards.
“A-an initiate Father.” The one responded.
The man called father sighed as he leaned back in his throne. “No, we have no new initiates, I would know.” He seemed rather disappointed as he rested his chin on his hand looking rather bored. “Kill her.” He said as he raised his other hand. “Then we shall reassess your position in our organization.” He said to his two underlings. The others around the room readied there weapons and seemed prepared to advance.
The Warden: She folded her arms, standing still in the very center of the room. “That would be a grave error on your part, I assure you. I have much to offer, and you stand only to gain.” Her gaze remained steady. The light caught her eyes, revealing her unusually-shaped pupils.
The Brotherhood: Father just laughed, seemingly amused by this. “Many have said such words and many have displayed such parlor tricks, and every last one of them met the same fate.” With that the masked figures around the room leapt into action moving in almost a blur to strike the woman down. 
The Warden: One of the arrows released towards her, and in the blink of an eye, she simply sidestepped it, without breaking eye contact with the Father. 
The blade of a short sword swept towards her, and she quickly slammed her arm into the man’s wrist, ripping the sword from his grip and reversing the blade, swiftly driving it into his gut and pulled it upwards to bury the steel edge into his sternum, the sword ripping through his insides. 
The trapper swung his twitching body around to block another arrow, then shoved with the sword and pushing it into the other bowman. Blood and viscera splattered across the floor as the two fell to the floor, the live one struggling beneath the dead. Without looking, she flourished the sword with her wrist and threw it to the side with extreme, precise force; it pierced the knife-wielder through the neck. As her body hit the ground, the stranger dodged another arrow and rushed towards its owner, grabbing them around the neck, swiftly moving towards the wall of the room and slamming their head brutally, fatally, into the cold stone.
The other blood-soaked archer finally made her way out from under the eviscerated body and unsheathed a long knife. The only other guard, carrying a hand-and-a-half sword, rushed the trapper first, but she drew two of her hunting knives and parried the long blade by crossing her own. Her arms shook violently as he pressed downward towards her chest. With another vicious shove, the sword very suddenly moved towards the man’s neck. His eyes widened as blood poured down his chest, and he fell.
The final guard approached cautiously, her knife outstretched, searching for an opening. The trapper stood to her full height, and outstretched a hand. Her eyes flickered with scarlet light. The guard moved forward, and then froze, shuddering unnaturally. 
The stranger raised her hand, and in time with her movement, the other woman very slowly brought the trembling knife around to point at her own abdomen. Abruptly, her hand curled into a fist, and the guard buried the knife deep in her own belly, falling to her knees in shock. 
The trapper turned away to face the Father while the final guard heaved and choked, blood spreading across her mask and down her chin. She wore a distasteful scowl. “I didn’t want to do that.” she said in a low voice. “I need as many of you as I can get.”
The Brotherhood: Father watched with slowly growing interest as the trapper took out his guards one after another, it piqued however as watched the final one forcibly gutted herself on her own knife. Father just laughs as he leans back in his throne, still quite relaxed though much more interested now. "An excellent display miss. Though I'd expect nothing less from someone of your... Background." He chuckled as he spoke. "Oh do not worry we have many men and women on which to call upon throughout the different chapters we have across the lands. Now, before we begin I'd like for you to reveal your true self. If we are to be partners I'd prefer to know who I am working for, not just your current host."
The Warden: The woman curled her lip slightly, and her eyes flared again, but she sunk to her knees in something of a meditative pose. The air above her shimmered, and an insubstantial figure manifested above her. It was tall and lithe, but the details of the form were difficult to see. It was pure black, with occasional shots of dark violet and red flashing along its veins. Its head was wolflike, with simple scarlet facial markings and glowing eyes. Its body resembled that of a heavily-clothed half-breed, and behind it, a swath of foxlike tails swayed and both vanished and reappeared, keeping the number of tails constantly in question. Trails of dark smoke and mist rolled off the edges of its body in a mesmerizing display.
The demon folded her arms and raised her gaze to meet the Father’s, squinting at him. Don’t expect to learn every one of my secrets, Father, she said sternly, stepping towards him. I do not require your services, but I wish to have use of them. 
The Brotherhood: He chuckled as he sits back in his throne, hands folded in front of him. “But of course. My children are yours to do with as you see fit.” He let’s out a laugh. “Though I must be honest this is not the first time a demon has used our order…” There is a gleam in his eyes as he speaks. “How is the Empress faring?” 
The Warden: The Warden’s face immediately turned vicious and bestial, a howling mouth opening to reveal shadowy, shifting teeth. She stormed up to his throne and loomed over him, balling her fists. Her shadowy essence made the light surrounding them murky and dim. Grief and rage tore at her insides; it felt like acid was melting her away. It doesn’t matter, she snarled. Not to me. Not to you. You had best shut up and listen before I tear you and your children limb from limb, to be found and feasted on by dragons. 
The Brotherhood: Father is unphased by this outburst though he looks mildly upset. “Not well then I take it. That is… Unfortunate. She made use of our services on more than one occasion throughout the centuries since our organizations forming. Believe me or not but I am… Saddened that she is not better. But, enough ramblings of an old man.” He said. “What can the Dark Brotherhood do for you Mistress?” 
The Warden: The Warden bared her teeth one more time in his face before huffing and backing up slightly. She looked to the side briefly and then stared back into his eyes with a burning gaze. 
I want to destroy the Gathering of Dusk.
The Brotherhood: He hums in interest. “Interesting, aiming to strike a crippling blow to Central are we? They must have done something very drastic to provoke your ire in such a way. But no matter, we are at your disposal Mistress, tell what needs done and we shall carry it out.”
The Warden: High Central is in its death throes. It has been since Ragnarok. I only aim to provide the finishing strike to end its misery. She ignored his comment about the Gathering stoking her fury. It will need to be slow. Carefully planned. This will not be just any rash, flailing attack, hoping to hit something in the dark. This will be their calculated downfall. 
Their leader is already dead. She turned away from him, walking back to the feet of her vessel, which stared blankly at nothing. But their generals must fall as well; they are the shaking pillars that still uphold their miserable wretch of a government. Whatever misery and destruction that befalls them because of this, it does not matter to me. At the end of it, they must die.
The Warden looked over her shoulder, eyeing the Father. I hope I am right to believe, with the proper preparations, that your organization would be suited for such a task, she said, in a slightly mocking tone.
The Brotherhood: “So Rosso is dead now?” He hummed as he contemplated this. He knew well of Rosso, he’d killed several of his agents over the years. An irritating thorn gladly removed. His grin grew to a smirk as she mocked him. “Oh do not worry Mistress, you will find that we are equal to the task ”
The Warden: Wonderful. She was satisfied, but she still spoke in a grim, flat tone. I will gather any information you require to set up this strike, as I am unable to be detected, captured or interrogated by the majority of the Gathering. 
Now, one more thing. She approached his throne again, her tails sweeping around her and billowing black smoke. A vaguely complicated subject. I will not tell you how to run your Brotherhood. But I do require a matter of my concern to be completely settled with you. Your…children…they make their business carrying out various deeds of moral question, against anyone they are contracted to target. Correct?
The Brotherhood: “Correct, I accept or reject the contract depending on various circumstances. Often times I accept any contract, though there are cases where a family or individual falls under a certain protection and the contract must be rejected. Why do you ask Mistress?”
The Warden: Interesting that you should mention such a blacklist. I would like to bring a certain number of individuals under such protections, so that they do not fall prey to the Brotherhood during this endeavor, or at any time in the future. Her stare was intense; her vessel’s heart was racing.
The Brotherhood: He nods. "Of course Mistress any and all who you designate, if a contract comes against them we will reject it outright, and if you would like we can do away with the party who was interested in such a contract."
The Warden: Whatever you must do to keep said individuals safe, she said dismissively. She squinted at him a little, and briefly attempted to probe his mind. He was being very compliant. Suspiciously so. I want you to contract with me, she continued, heat emanating from her voice, to ensure their protection. The bond will include the knowledge of every reb–of every person that is to remain unharmed. Their names, their appearances, and where they currently reside according to my memory. If anyone causes harm to them in the name of the Brotherhood, the consequences of breaking the deal will be yours.
She outstretched her hand. My end of the contract–my collateral–will be to help the Brotherhood as you need it, provided that my assistance does not interfere with any of my previous oaths.
The Brotherhood: Father nodded and took her hand. “Very well, the deal is struck.” Once the contract was forged he let out a chuckle. “It is funny your mother made a similar contract with a previous leader of ours. I find it interesting that we make a similar deal now. It will be my pleasure to work with you Mistress. We shall post watchmen in the general area of those of which you’ve indicated. They will act as though they are normal townsfolk and keep an eye on them. Is that satisfactory?”
The Warden: The information flooded into his mind as the contract sealed itself on his forearm just below his wrist. It sizzled softly and faded into a dull burn, which would heal into a permanent scar. 
Whatever resources you can spare for them would be appreciated, she conceded, secretly glad about his offer. But the deposition of the generals takes priority.
Her astral form pulled back into the trapper’s body, and she shook her head slightly, blinking and looking back up at the Father. Her expression was dark and serious. She burned with the desire to know more about what kind of contracts the Empress had forged with him, but it was pushed aside by the vivid sight of Greg’s dead body and pale face, of the smoking island, and of the phoenix burning above the sea as it departed for the last time.
“We will do this,” she said in a low voice, “or we will die trying.”
Category:EU
Category:Events
Category:The Warden
Category:Father