Vito bowed, in a way that conjured an actual glance and a nod of acknowledgment from Queen Elvira. To the side, Herald Iria smiled and if Vito dared a glance toward the royal biqaj, she would also nod in an approving manner. If he glanced toward Herald Vatia, though, he would find that the hazel-eyed human had the slightest of frowns that showed on his brow and a fixed stare on Baroness Virginia. It was the closest to troubled that Vatia ever looked, with the little furrow between his brows. Vito had been part of the Theocratum long enough, that when he observed this, the Tribunal would feel a sinking sense that something was wrong.
Meanwhile, Woe felt the emotional drain in the aftermath of his impromptu speech. As he returned to Callisto's side, she tapped her fan against his shoulder. Behind her veil, she raised her eyebrows but she didn't say anything other than the silent gesture for his return.
Then, Woe went into Baroness Virgina's tapestry to explore her tangle...
...or he tried...
...it is difficult to describe what Woe might have felt in that moment of exploration, in terms of the world that Woe knows. For it felt like his ears became full of sand and water in equal measure, the gritty churn of the sensation muffled the court around him and though he could see that the Baroness had started to talk: he couldn't hear anything but a murmur of a voice in a language that he could no longer understand.
The world around him started to... change, as he felt a tug on his sparks - as if something wanted to drive him even deeper into the "tangle" - as if his very soul was pulled under a great ethereal wave, in a forceful current that would take him further down into a whirlpool.
The tangle seemed to reach out for him, in mirrored exploration, in mockery, in a way that the threads started to snap around his spark and squeeze it until the Empath felt almost leashed. And it was not Baroness' Virginia's emotions that he felt, but rather, his own emotions started to arise and bleed into whatever was in the place of where the woman's changeling's tangle should have been.
The changeling was stealing the Empath's emotions.
The tangle was not a tangle of threads like that which Woe was accustomed to, but rather a bundled thicket of vines and roots that unfurled and coiled around his Empathy spark to further draw the mage deeper into whatever it was he had found.
Beyond the murmured hush of the Court, he could hear something... something else... but it wasn't of a language he could recognize. If it was a language at all.
Not a single soul among the Court seemed to be aware of what was happening, either. The attention was fixed on Baroness Virginia while the woman spoke to the monarchs.
"Your Majesties," said Baroness Virginia - once she'd gotten past the more formalities of whatever she had to share with the Court. She kept her gaze set on the King and Queen ahead. "When I left Cezario, I traveled northeast, and then west, through the Baronies, and I walked among the Creep. They did not harm me. They did not seek to kill me. They only watched me. I walked and walked and then I came across my daughters."
Cezario made a small noise, but remained mostly quiet while he kept a small distance away from his wife to let her speak.
"They did not look like they used to. They had joined with the Creep, made into one with them, as it is supposed to be." Baroness Virginia glanced once behind her to look at the Court audience, then back. There were a few murmurs, but most stay quiet in shock of what was said. "Fleshwalkers are fragile, weak. Squishy and full of red or silver water. Sometimes black water, too. You cannot regrow either. You do not know how. We will make you not weak."
Now, it seemed that the Baroness had no intention to pretend otherwise.
"I have much more to say," warned the woman, as her voice rose in a crackled sound of a voice beyond a mortal's. "I am what you all should be. I knelt to the Creepheart, and surrendered, and they took the weakness from my aging meat and now through the might of the Creep... I am strong! Your faith is misplaced in a lie when you have true salvation to be revealed in us!"
Baroness Virginia's shawl fell to the floor. The old woman tore open what seemed to be the front lacings on her dress, as if to expose her bare skin to the King and Queen (and by position, Herald Iria). The three elite biqaj's faces turned silvery in how they paled. Eyes of every color flashed among their irises. Then the Baroness turned, and revealed the same to the Court audience.
She had not only torn open the front of her gown, but also her very chest itself. The sternum had split in half, and inside was not flesh and blood but a husk of brown and dull green leaves, vines, and branches in growth. Sap leaked out the split apart torso, in heavy maple rivulets. A mess of tangled brush beat like a heart in the center of the unusual flora structure.
Among the Court, a woman screamed and that broke through a surge of panic among the Quacians. One of the older Heralds stood, pointed at the woman, and snarled, "Kill the changeling! Burn the heretic!"
Cezario shouted back, the old baron at a loss, "Please, don't harm my wife! I beg of you."
"OPEN YOUR GATES," crackled the mockery of what had once been Baroness Virginia's voice. She turned back around to face the King and Queen. "SURRENDER. OR THE DEFEAT YOU WILL SUFFER WILL CAUSE YOUR FOOLISH ANCESTORS TO WEEP FROM PAIN."
"Capture this... creature." The confident voice cut through the threats, not through shouting but a firm projection of a soprano pitch. Queen Elvira had stood from her chair. She gestured for the nearest Dragoons to capture the Changeling.
Things happened rather quickly after that.
For the elderly woman pounced on the nearest Dragoon, unexpectedly. She tore off the man's helm, and ripped her nails into his eyes while the vines from her torn-open chest grew out to wrap around his neck and strangle him. This intimidated the other Dragoon, who retreated a few steps away in shock at the gore while his partner's eyes were scratched out of their sockets.
Panic ensued, in that the Quacian elites headed for the doors - any door, whichever was nearest.
Herald Vatia held up a hand with a stern order for the Theocratum to remain where they were. A few Tribunals, and even a couple Heralds, did not listen though and headed for the side door regardless.
The guilds did not have such leadership or organization, as the representatives crowded to try and get the barred obstacle off the dual doors; which the posted Dragoons at the threshold didn't know whether to keep them away from it or to help them.
Baroness Virginia, or the Changeling that wore her visage, stole the spear from the dead Dragoon she'd strangled. Hands dripped with the fresh red blood, and the hem of her dress now revealed to be ragged and stained with ash and blood while the layers fluttered in the momentum of battle. She turned around, and with strength impossible for an elderly woman, she jabbed the spear directly through the other Dragoon's throat.
Most of the Dragoons found themselves busy with the panicking crowd. The General had just returned though, from having been looking over the Faldrunium weapons in a sideroom. He sprinted in, after he'd clearly been gotten by one of his subordinates, and then paused in momentary surprise for how everything had gone to chaos so fast.
King Estavao grabbed onto his wife's arm, headed off the dais toward the General. However, Elvira pulled away from him. The Queen seemed to have something in mind, and whatever it was, it seemed that Herald Iria also had it in mind - as both women headed toward the center of the space where the Changeling was trying to dislodge the spear from the dead Dragoon's neck. Among the loud commotion, the king gave a shout of don't.
Herald Iria lowered to her knees, at the edge of the royal seal, and she drew her ceremonial dagger from her sleeve.
Queen Elvira took off one of her earrings, as if in preparation for something.
Whatever it was, however, was cut short.
The Changeling abandoned the spear. She turned, far too fast to be mortal, then rushed toward the Queen...
