A Dance of Steel
Thirteenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
Gasping from the sudden chill you nonetheless smile, seeing arrows arch above as Aradia joins the fray. Varys must have heard the hiss of steel parting the air for he moves aside with extraordinary deftness for one still constrained in the stiff black dress. Satisfaction glints in his eye for he thinks himself untouched, but you can see the blood flowing freely from his left shoulder where one of the arrows had cut as deftly as a surgeon's knife, the pain yet unnoticed. Glancing down you see blood spurting from his calf also where another wound saps his strength unnoticed.
"What do you fight for, Varys?" you ask, contempt dripping from your every word, more to keep him distracted than to hear the answer, for you are certain he will lie. "For pride's sake? To say that you have bested gods and demons in wit and cunning?"
"I fight for those who have not the strength to take up arms," he answers. "For those ground down in the wars of fools and madmen..."
You would laugh at the sheer arrogance of the words, be they lie or truth if you could spare the breath for it.
As your foe's wands come near to crossing again you hear the sound of soft steps approaching from behind him through the shocked onlookers. You glimpse Nuri, and so does he.
You had been wise it seems not to have trusted in veils and set Aradia and Dany to look upon the square from far above.
Forewarned is not forearmed it seems, for though your foe twists to face the graceful dancer her blades flicker like silver flame through the air, tearing bloody gashes through his flesh. His gaze darts this way and that... towards the pool again. But he knows he has to get through you...
Again the cold light flashes between the pale wand and the dark, but this time you are ready, not paying the price of stolen time. The scales stolen from Mammon's own hide surge around you, catching the curse and flinging it back, as a ray of winter sunlight in a gilded mirror turned. There it hangs suspended, struggling against Varys' wards for a timeless instant before you speak the word Lya had engraved into your signet, and by that sorcery at last the weapon of the enemy is turned against him.
Shivers run through his flesh, and his clattering teeth are set in painful grimace as you draw Dark Sister in one hand and conjure a shimmering sphere around the three of you, cutting off Varys' escape, even as Vee sends a trio of conjured beasts to guard the pool against any surprises.
"The blood of the traitor will taste sweet," Dark Sister whispers in your thoughts, though she dutifully twists in your hand, striking him with the flat of her blade rather than the deadly edge. You have had enough foes who refuse to stay dead to know they must be captured alive.
Nuri tumbles along the edge of the sphere to guard your side, rising from her crouch, blades extended and savaging Varys, but still he somehow clings to consciousness enough to drop his wands and draw a scroll of power before at last collapsing to the cobbles, beaten.
A single glance downwards is enough to send a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with any lingering cold, a spell and seal of the ninth circle, no mere unraveling of magic but a seal that if unleashed would
cut the threads of power all around it save what the bearer holds. That it could have cost you a fortune barely matters beside the fact that the son of a bitch could have
killed Dark Sister likely beyond all recall.
Dany flashes over a moment later, though your mother seems hardly slower for not having wings. After assuring them that you are safe and well and checking in turn that Dany's fall had done her no lasting harm you turn back to the bloodied form of Varys and the frightened, confused crowd.
What do you do?
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OOC: This includes things like how do you secure Varys and what do you do about the crowd. I'll have his items written up tomorrow since there are quite a lot of them, but they have no fluff text yet.