Rania Chalybs
Regnum
Onyx Bay, Bratovi
1999RE
In the dim recesses of the city, Detective Rania Chalybs, a formidable agent of the coalition, pursued the elusive criminal, Seth, through shadowy alleys. The chase unfolded in a spectacle of daring leaps over buildings and deft maneuvers to evade projectiles hurled by irate traders whose sales had been disrupted. Seth, a vile perpetrator involved in the heinous act of kidnapping and selling human women to the sinister human trafficking rings in Regnum, found himself ensnared in Riana's pursuit.
In an intense chase, Rania, known for her unparalleled speed, closed in on the wretched man. A swift lash of her whip sent Seth sprawling into the muddy ground. As she moved to apprehend him, the criminal desperately aimed a sharp blade at her. With uncanny agility, Riana narrowly avoided the blade's deadly arc, retaliating with a powerful punch that subdued Seth's resistance.
Emerging from the mud-smeared encounter, Rania, clad in her once-pristine blue coalition uniform, cast a disdainful glance at her tarnished appearance. Undeterred, she hauled the defeated criminal to his feet and, with a resolute expression, activated the "Glyph" on her left hand to alert her partner to their location.
As Rania tries to clean the mud stains from her once-immaculate uniform, her partner Zola, a seemingly unassuming figure with a sharp nose and eyes reflecting weariness, strides into view. His appearance belies a hidden strength despite how soft he looks.
"Well done, Rania. We're drawing closer to unveiling the sinister threads of the trafficking web," Zola commends, his blue beaded eyes mirroring exhaustion but hinting at resilience.
Gazing at the captured criminal, Rania expresses satisfaction, "Catching him was no easy feat. He's slippery and entwined with the upper echelons of this nefarious business. Extract every morsel of information from him. Make sure you don't kill this one."
Zola, unleashing a bone-chilling laughter, responds, "I can promise you the secrets he harbors, but whether his life endures is a realm beyond my assurances." The air crackles with tension as the duo stands on the precipice of unraveling a deeper, more perilous mystery.
Amidst the labyrinthine alleys of Onyx Bay's forsaken slums, Rania endures the indignity of dirty water flung by traders tending to their fruits. As dilapidated buildings loom overhead, Narrow, mud-laden alleys wind through destitution, revealing makeshift dwellings where impoverished humans endure squalor. The air carries the poignant scent of dampness and decay, while ragged children navigate through the muck, their gaunt faces mirroring the harsh realities of life in the shadows. Mud-laden roads bear witness to unrelenting rain, and the desolation of the slums unveils a stark reality: hungry human children and brazen pickpockets.
Navigating the market with the criminal in tow, Riana laments, "The stark contrast in treatment between humans and vampyres is a bitter truth to witness." Zola, his blue-beaded eyes reflecting the hardship, adds, "Vampyres dwell in pristine castles with immaculate roads and drainage, while our people endure destitution."
Riana, dragging the weight of disparity, sighs with a heavy heart. "Even within the coalition, where both humans and vampyres risk their lives, the divide persists. A tenth of their pay is all we receive." Zola, shaking his head in grim acknowledgment, presses forward toward a distant coalition office, their conversation echoing the underlying tensions within the kingdom.
As Riana pushes open the grand doors of the Onyx Bay coalition office, she is met with the haughty presence of Mamba Xangoe, a vampiric member of the coalition. Mamba, dripping with condescension, sneers, "Ah, the livestock returns," as she glides past. Zola, known for his impulsive nature, steps forward with the intent to engage in a skirmish, but Riana restrains him with a subtle gesture, a silent plea for restraint. "Some battles aren't worth the fight," she whispers.
Despite the unassuming exterior of the Onyx Bay coalition office, the interior reveals opulent blend of authority and sophistication. Velvet curtains in deep blue frame the space, and marble floors gleam underfoot. Lavish furnishings adorn the reception area, with a grand chandelier casting a regal glow overhead. The receptionist's station is adorned with polished brass accents, and a timebook sits on a well-maintained counter. Despite the façade of luxury, the office maintains an air of functionality, reflecting the balance between elegance and the serious nature of coalition business. Riana and Zola, accompanied by their captive Seth, proceed toward the reception, inscribing their names in the timebook.
The receptionist, Poppy, a close confidante of Riana, remarks, "You look absolutely delightful." Riana and Zola share a laugh as she twirls, showcasing her mud-stained boots and tattered attire. "Delightful indeed," she quips.
"We ought to visit the Rouge after our duties," Riana suggests. "A well-deserved respite is in order after today's challenges." Zola, returning from securing Seth in the cells, concurs, "Absolutely." The prospect of the Rouge promises a semblance of solace in the aftermath of their tumultuous day.
Ascending the stairs that led to Poppy's workstation, Rania proceeds towards the sanctum of her superior, Major Lamia. A decade-long mentor and surrogate father in her patriarch's absence, the major's office exudes simplicity, a stark contrast to the grandeur below. A subtle knock precedes her entrance, and she hears the familiar "come in" that grants her passage.
Seating herself on an unwelcoming sofa, Rania's gaze settles upon Major Lamia, a tall and lanky figure adorned with glasses, a man she has come to admire. His office, like his demeanor, reflects order amidst simplicity. "Chalybs, I trust the mission transpired favorably," he inquires without lifting his gaze from the desk.
"Yes, we've apprehended a core member of the ring. Zola will delve into extracting information," she responds. Major Lamia, a man of few words, acknowledges with a simple "Good."
As Rania prepares to leave, Major Lamia, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, jests, "Leave my office; you smell terrible." It's his peculiar way of expressing pride. Rania, acknowledging the unspoken compliment, departs, offering a parting retort, "Goodbye, Major," her connection with him woven in the unspoken language of camaraderie and admiration.
As the heavy door swung shut behind her, Rania traversed the corridors to reach the sanctuary of the locker room. There, a luxurious bath awaited, infused with the alluring essence of Ilyin's sweet-smelling lemon soap. Cleansed and rejuvenated, she emerged clad in a short, flowing orange dress with the fashionable bell sleeves of the era, an attire befitting her spirited demeanor.
The pendant adorning her neck received a gentle adjustment, and her fingers lightly traversed through her hair. With purpose, she assembled her belongings, securing them within her bag. As she stepped into the reception area, the rendezvous point with her comrades, the air resonated with an undercurrent of camaraderie and shared anticipation. Together, they embarked on a journey towards the enigmatic Rouge.
Under a somber sky, Rania, Zola, and Poppy departed the coalition building, each clutching an umbrella to ward off the ceaseless rain. "These dreary days grow tiresome," Zola grumbled. Poppy, perpetually bright, countered, "It's not that bad, is it?" Zola, adopting a snippy tone, retorted, "Absolutely delightful. Horrible weather, swarming flies from stagnant water, illnesses spreading, mud everywhere—we're thriving in destitution, truly wonderful."
Amidst their banter, Rania stifled a laugh before divulging, "It's worsened with the impending Regnis War approaching." Poppy, speaking in a hushed tone, revealed, "The papers suggest Styx of Bratoviae may ascend to the throne." Rania sighed, "We shall see. The battles will be tense; the other houses tire of Bratoviae's centuries-long reign. The tides are changing in Regnum, and whispers echo within the coalition."
Before Zola could add to the discourse, the vibrant music of the Rouge interrupted them. Nestled in the red light district, notorious for its vices, the Rouge beckoned as one of the few affordable havens of entertainment for humans. As they entered the timeworn doors, the raucous atmosphere engulfed them. The Rouge, with its explicit dances and scantily clad performers, provided a momentary escape for the trio.
Upon crossing the threshold, joy radiated through Rania and her comrades, their elation echoing in shared squeals. They navigated towards their cherished table by the window, offering a breathtaking panorama of the Onyx River. The waiter, Claudia, a dear friend and dancer, sensually approached, ready to take their order. Zola found himself momentarily entranced as she leaned forward, revealing a captivating glimpse.
"What would you like?" Claudia purred, her enchanting tone ensnaring the senses. Rania, unfazed, ordered, "A platter of stewed goat meat and six bottles of beer." Zola and Poppy, stirred by excitement, rapturously pounded the table. Claudia, departing to fulfill their request, left behind a shared glance between Poppy and Rania, punctuated by subdued laughter.
Upon her return, Claudia addressed Rania, "I witnessed your virtuous exploits in the news today, as befits the golden girl." Rania, gracefully acknowledging the compliment, delved into light banter with the girls, while Zola, seizing an opportune moment, excused himself with aspirations of tumbling in bed with one of the dancers.
Claudia retreated to the concealed backroom, preparing for her imminent performance, while Poppy and Rania immersed themselves in the succulent food and wine. Seeking reprieve from the harsh realities that clung to their existence, they later succumbed to the hypnotic rhythms on the dance floor, twirling amid the clamor of sweaty strangers.
In the throes of the music, Rania collided with an imposing figure. Preparing to unleash her frustration, she turned, only to find herself face to face with an enigmatic vampyre—none other than Styx Bratoviae, a presence that carried an aura of intrigue and uncertainty.