Thelma
"PLEASE, PLEASE, *PLEASE*, I SWEAR, I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN, NEVER! NO MORE!"

Gantrick was a cold and unforgiving place. The icy plains were pristine as they were brutal. There was no sound most of the time, just the biting wind, whistling as it whips past, and the sound of one's own footsteps, crunching in the snow. It's lonely, and it's uncomfortable, so the sight of civilisation is often welcome. But there are some who'd prefer to brave the possibility of a chilling grave in the wastes, frozen solid till eternity ends, than go on living in their conditions...

"PLEASE, I BEG, NO MOR- *Augh*"

Southhallow Castle, an oppressive and mighty structure standing gale and unmoving against the forces of nature battering its walls day and night, overlooks a great estate of land. Swathes of it, riddled with farmlands protected from the cold by magical artefacts, lumber yards, mines for coal, metal, and more, as close to an industrial powerhouse one could get in an era like this. The walls surrounding it are mighty, but one can only clad them in stone for so long, and the size of the estate means only the castle itself has that luxury. The rest of the walls are heavily reinforced wooden structures, manned by guards clad in the purple colours of the Golitsin family 

"*Please, please, please, Gods please, make it stop, make it-* AUGH"

Within these walls, the pleading, wailing voice of a woman is cut off by the sound of a blow across her face, and her subsequent whimper. The noise carries in the silence of the plains, unmarred by any bystanders or onlookers who might cry out in protest. Only the sound her screeching, her pain, and the crack of a lash as it's rips down the flesh of her back, tearing it asunder with each strike, the whipping intermittently broken with a swift kick or punch
_ _

Were one to get a closer look, by circumventing the walls somehow, they'd find a young woman, kneeling in the stone, her hands shackled together and tied at a wooden post. One of the guards, leather whip in hand, was striking at the woman's back. Her shirt, barely hanging on, retained her modesty, though that was little consolation. Her exposed back was riddled with scars, both fresh and bleeding, as well as old and healed, from past whippings. Her protesting cries had dampened into haggard crying, her throat hoarse, barely chocking out the sobs as the shook

There were others around, but they paid it no heed. They kept to their work, never looking up, averting their gaze as they chopped at stacks of wood, or lugged sacks of barley about. Most winced with each blow, and each corresponding scream of pain. But as... *Something* Rose over the wall, they finally looked up, in amazement and fear
Renee
Oh, how Aria despised this country. Partially, it was because she simply couldn't imagine why anyone would want to live here. The neverending cold was horrible, making any sort of travel through it quite literally hell. Sure, the land looked beautiful, and she could imagine that it could make for a good vacation, but as a place to live? If she ever were to settle down, this land was at the bottom of Aria's list.

The main reason why she hated it, though, was the slavery. It was a concept that she'd never been comfortable with, to enslave another sentient creature and make them do one's bidding, for what? Just because they happened to be of a certain species? It disgusted her. Really, if there was a country she wished to avoid at all costs, it was this one - not because she didn't want to help out, but because she couldn't. There were too many people enslaved here, too many suffering, and Aria was only one person, no matter how strong she was.

If it were up to her, she wouldn't be in this country right now. She would be somewhere warmer, somewhere that wasn't Gantrick. But it wasn't up to her. For the past few nights, her dreams had spoken of this country, and Aria interpreted those as a sign from her goddess that she had to go here and fight whatever injustice was going on. Of course, there was no way that she could know for certain that was asked of her, and perhaps the dreams were simply random, having nothing to do with Kamara at all. But if there was anything Aria was known for, it was her blind faith towards her goddess, so she had purchased a set of warm clothing to wear underneath her armor and departed to the cold, hellish land.
_ _

It had been a couple of days since she'd arrived, and surprisingly enough, she'd been mostly left alone. Well, it wasn't all that surprising, to be fair. Her height, standing at 8 feet tall, her heavy armor that she wore without issue, the huge claymore strapped to her back in its scabbard, and her large wings, colored a white so pure that they almost looked like they were glowing, made it obvious to just about anyone that she wasn't to be messed with, and the few people that had tried to hurt her, had found that she was much faster than someone her size had any right to be and that her punches hit like a cannon fired straight into their most sensitive parts.

Aria had been travelling around at random, mostly on foot, as her heavy armor made flying fairly impractical, taking much more energy than it was worth. Usually, she would carry her helmet under her arm, but in this land, she'd decided to put it on, hiding her face from view. One might think her a particularly tall avian Shapeshifter, with her glowing eyes hidden - and perhaps that was the safest assumption to make, as it made it easier to leave her alone.

As she walked through the land surrounding Southhallow Castle, Aria glanced around the area, always vigilant. She was looking for a place to spend the night, trade her strength for a bite to eat and shelter to sleep in, but something caught her attention. Something that sounded an awful lot like screaming, begging for mercy, coming straight from the castle - a location she really hadn't wanted to go to, but it seemed like she had no choice.
_ _

The Aasimar woman didn't waste a second. With a *FWOOSH*, she spread her wings, revealing an impressive wingspan that was longer than she was tall. Her right hand went to her claymore, unsheathing the weapon as she beat her wings, carrying her into the air in no time, leaving behind a couple of feathers drifting to the ground. Her gaze was focused on the source of the screaming, and in no time, she spotted it. A woman, hands tied to a wooden post, was being beaten violently by what appeared to be a guard. Likely a slave, it was a cruelty that she had witnessed many times here.

From her vantage point in the sky, she noted the locations of the guards she could see, while extending her left hand, palm facing the woman and whispering a spell. Her hand glowed, and a moment later, a golden shield kind of like and upside-down bowl surrounded the woman, covering her entirely. It looked to be made of thin golden threads, tightly woven together in the shape of hexagons and pentagons, and one could still look through the gaps, but if one were to attempt to strike the woman again, either with whip or directly with their hands or boots, they would find that it was surprisingly sturdy for something that looked so fragile, and their attacks would likely just bounce off harmlessly.

With that taken care of, secure in the knowledge that the woman couldn't be harmed any more, Aria flew over to the place, her sabatons making a metallic *CLUNK* Sound as she landed between the woman and the guard, claymore held loosely in her right hand, the point resting on the ground for now. "Cease your mistreatment of this woman this instant," She spoke, her voice stern and clear, loud enough to be audible to all the bystanders, but revealing her femininity, which had made many people underestimate her - always a huge mistake on their part.
_ _

Straightening her back and folding her wings, Aria looked down upon the guard, taking full advantage of her intimidating height. He was welcome to try and strike her - after all, what was a whip going to do against the full plate armor covering every part of her body? And, if he tried anything more than that, she wouldn't find it difficult to retaliate, her claymore had struck down many stronger foes than this guard.
Thelma
As Aria descended onto the snowfield, the guard who'd been beating the woman was taken aback. The shield had manifested mid-swing, expanding from nothingness and deflecting the blow, an ethereal glow encompassing the young slave. Though he was confused, the source of the spell soon became apparent, as an 8 foot tall Aasimar clad in full plate armour stepped in between him and his victim. All he could do was murmur in disbelief 

But it wasn't a one on one standoff for long. The Duke's militia soon poured down off the walls and out of the castle in droves, blades drawn, charging down towards Aria, but taking no action yet. The commotion sent surrounding slaves running off back to their housing, a series of ramshackle huts full of bunk upon bunk, cramming as many as possible in for the lowest price. Soon, they assembled around her, looking to each other, unsure of what to do. All were imposing, most of them bear or wolf shifters, typically around 6' in height. But even they found themselves looking *Up* At Aria, and they knew full well she was better equipped than them 

Before long, the back and forth of orders to release the girl and Aria's presumed stalwart refusal was interrupted. The terrified woman had turned slightly, her breathing rapid but her screaming subsided, hoarse, whispered thanks coming profusely from within the shield. But the thanks ceased, when the guards began looking backwards, before falling into rigid formation and then parting down the middle, now looking more as though they were par of a military parade than about to brawl

As the golden shimmer of the spell danced across the enforcer's reflective helmets, a man strolled down through the parting of his soldiers. Two more guards, far more heavily armoured and armed, walked behind him, and a man in simple yet expensive robes carrying a small case of some kind walked at his flank. Silence fell again, the wind scouring the walls beside them providing the only sound
_ _

This man, though he didn't exactly look it, clearly commanded respect. It was odd, really, these grizzled veterans and killers clad in professional military garb and wielding mighty weapons, deferring to him. It wouldn't be unlikely that Aria might not see him at first, having to look down instead, and seeing Vasili Golitsin, Duke of Fallholt and Castellan of Southhallow. In spite of the cold he was clad in utmost finery, knee high socks, black buckled shoes with what looked to be a solid gold buckle each, and an inordinately large blouse to go with his waistcoat and overcoat, all of which matched the dark purple colouring of his guards, but also possessed golden inlay and buttoning 

His hair was also inordinately large, extending well above his head and around it, brushed backwards and impeccable groomed, seeming both wild and uncouth yet dignified and cleanly, smooth, white, wispy curls, bouncing slightly in the wind. His face was similarly dichotomous, covered in makeup and seemingly well cared for, but marred on the edges and around his neck by what seemed to be a series of small scars, tint scratches and cracks spiderwebbing across his visage. His mouth opening into a smile, slowly, ominously, as his piercing yellowed eyes drilled into Aria - from almost four feet below her eyeline, that is 

"Aah, an Aasimar! How delightful. I'm sure this is naught but a misunderstanding, eh? Please, release my property, and we can smooth this out over a hearty meal in my abode"

His accent was thick, very thick, and slightly different to most of Gantrick, not that she was likely to recognise it. Though he smiled outwardly, were it anyone less interesting trespassing on his land and interfering with his business, they'd be swinging from a rope in Fallholt come nightfall. But, Aria *Was* Interesting - and also quite difficult to successfully hang, given her height and wings
_ _

In the face of Aria being unresponsive (or simply not obeying fast enough), likely bemused at the size and appearance of the man before her, Vasili would speak again. This time, altogether... Different 

"__**𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕**__"

The voice cut out all other sound, booming with unnatural power, overwhelming her senses. The world closed in, rhythmic humming growing to fever pitch as darkness pushed inward on her, on everything. She could hardly think, hardly see, hardly hear, and then... It was gone. With a resounding *Woosh*, everything came back. All was back to normal - except the shield was gone, and her hand was outstretched in the motion to do so. Vasili giggled slightly, the smile splitting his face wide once more

"Now that has been dealt with, let me introduce myself. I am Vasili Golitsin, Duke of Fallholt and Castellan of Southhallow"

As they exchanged pleasantries, a guard stepped in behind Aria, quickly unshackling the poor slave girl, beginning to drag her away, off into the fields. As other guards dispersed back to their posts, barking orders at the labourers to resume their work, the Duke attempted to dissuade further conflict 

"You - Aasimar, that is - worship, eh... Kamara, yes? Goddess of Justice, ah? Interesting the, that you would commit a crime with such flippancy, no? Worry not, I shan't report this, haha!That woman, loud and incessant as she may be, is not a person. She is my property. And I, or those in my employ, can do as they wish with *My* Property. Come, come! Let us discuss this inside, out of the cold!"

Not waiting for an answer, Vasili turned heel, the small black bow tied at the very base of his hair swinging slightly before settling again, and began marching back up to Southhallow. The castle was titanic in scale, evidently built for military usage not inhabitants originally. It was all sharp edges and blackened stone, archers stalking the parapets and servants bustling about within
_ _
Renee
Aria might have found the way she was surrounded somewhat threatening, if it weren't for the fact that they seemed to be more afraid of her than she was of them. Perhaps afraid was the wrong way to put it. In a fight, it was very likely that they would end up overwhelming her eventually, especially if she had to keep protecting this poor woman, which she was planning on doing. Likely, she hadn't even done anything wrong, and they were just making a show of beating her up to scare the other slaves.

Still, if it were to come to that, she was more than certain that she would be able to take out plenty of them before they could even land a scratch on her - she had the advantage of her armor protecting her, the range of her massive claymore, her not so insignificant strength, and her spells that could protect her from harm. In fact, as her eyes scanned over the guards, she felt that this was a confrontation that she might even win. Her hand tightened around the grip of her claymore and she lifted the point off the ground just a little with ease despite its size, preparing herself for combat, if that happened.

However, something strange happened. Of course, Aria refused to back off, she wasn't going to let these people hurt that woman anymore, that wasn't the strange thing. No, what happened instead was that some of the guards seemed to be looking back at someone approaching. Aria narrowed her eyes, watching as they stepped into their little formation. Was there someone coming to take her down? Even if the person approaching would manage to best her, she was certainly going to give them one hell of a fight, make them remember her.
_ _

But the person that got closer wasn't at all what she was expecting. Sure, the guards were somewhat menacing, yet he was... Well, kind of pathetic. Half her size, making her bend her head downwards to look at him, he really wasn't all that impressive. His clothing was fancy, speaking of a noble that didn't know anything about fighting, the scarring around his face, which appeared to be mostly covered in makeup, gave the impression of someone that was - or had been - terribly ill and was trying to hide that, and his figure was the opposite of imposing.

However, Aria was far from dumb. She could see the respect he commanded at a glance, how the guards seemed to revere him, perhaps even fear him, she suspected. Clearly, there was something about him that she couldn't see. She thought it likely that he commanded magical powers far greater than her own, and she wouldn't have been surprised if she were to get destroyed right then and there before she was able to do anything in response. Should she strike him down, before he could do anything to her? That smile of his was so very ominous... Yet, he hadn't done anything wrong yet, so Aria waited, keeping herself positioned between the slave woman and this strange man.

She remained quiet as he spoke up, finding his words equally as suspicious as his appearance. Aria only narrowed her eyes at him, hidden beneath her helmet. Something about him unsettled her to her core, and she thought it wise to remain quiet for now, let him play his cards. She didn't like the way he worded that. *Property.* As if another being belonged to him, like one might own a shirt, or a sword. It disgusted her, and she most certainly wasn't planning to do as he asked her to. Really, she was considering grabbing the poor thing and flying away, leaving her somewhere safe, far away from this land.
_ _

Unfortunately, it seemed that she was right about the small man. It seemed he did have access to some magic that Aria might have found impressive if it weren't just used against her. This feeling... It reminded her an awful lot of the panic attacks she suffered from occasionally, and Aria struggled to fight back against it, to keep herself in control, not give in to the power of this horrible man. She didn't have a chance to do so, though. It was already too late the moment she heard those words come from his lips.

The wild beating of her heart was the first sensation to return to her, and her breathing, unsteady and trembling, came back soon after. Aria realized she was holding out her hand - and it felt like an icy hand wrapped itself around her heart when she realized what she'd done. The shield was... Gone. Enchantment magic. Of course. She should have expected that, and set up wards to protect herself from it. Not doing so... It was a mistake. Tightening her jaw, Aria shot a glare at the tiny man, her hand lowering. If she were to make the shield again, he could just as easily make her get rid of it, and something about his actions just now, how easily he'd commanded her, made her feel like he was much more versed in the magic arts than she was. It was likely that even if she cast a protection spell, he would just get through it.

What he said next, though, came entirely unexpectedly. An introduction? Her breathing was quick to steady herself as she listened to him speak in that thick accent. Should she introduce herself back? It would be polite, but Aria didn't care about politeness right now. She was more interested in keeping herself safe, which included keeping this person at an arm's length if at all possible. That didn't stop his next words from making her blood boil, though.
_ _

"The law and justice are not always the same thing," Aria finally spoke up, her voice firm and stern. She would have wondered how he guessed the goddess she worshipped, if Kamara's emblem wasn't clearly shown on the pommel of her claymore, which she still held, refusing to sheathe it. Gods, how she despised how this man spoke of the woman. She watched as the poor thing was dragged off, desperately trying to resist the urge to fight the guards, grab her, and fly off.

However, deep inside, Aria knew that she had messed up. What did she think to accomplish? Her actions might have saved this woman's life for now, but she was no doubt going to get hurt even worse soon, punished for Aria's actions - in trying to stop her fate, she might have just cemented it instead. Yet, was she supposed to just watch and do nothing? That was an impossibility as well. She had to do something, anything to help her, to right her mistake. Perhaps she could somehow convince Vasili to hand her over? That was going to require a lot of effort, he didn't seem like the kind of man to listen if she got emotional. No, she had to convince him another way, but she was going to do it, no matter what it took.

There was no way to convince him if she just let him leave, though. So, after a moment of deliberation, Aria followed behind him, noting the bow at the back of his hair. It looked kind of ridiculous, but she wasn't going to say that out loud. With his strides being half the size of hers, the Aasimar walked more slowly than she usually did - not that she minded, it gave her a good chance to look around, eyes examining the place without her turning her head. As she walked, she sheathed the claymore, putting the large weapon into its scabbard on her back. With enchantment magic like his, it wasn't going to do her much good anyway.
_ _

If Aria was impressed with the place, she didn't show it. It was definitely fancy - not wholly unexpected - but she didn't care much for it. She never had. What did interest her somewhat were the pictures, likely family members from times long past. The one with the two people hanging from the gallows sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly averted her gaze, focusing instead on Vasili, continuing to follow behind him, wherever he may lead her.
Thelma
As the Duke made his way through the winding stone corridors of Southhallow, each step Aria took amounting to about five of his, they occasionally passed by servants. Likely also slaves, but the vast majority were half-humans of some variety, specifically ones that heavily resembled either normal humans or a half-shifted shapeshifter. The reason was obvious, they were somehow more than their 'leaders' due to resemblance to Shapeshifters. They too were deeply conditioned by brutality, barely even looking up at Aria as they passed, too afraid it might cause offence and have them out in the cold, tied to a post - or worse, tied to a noose

The stark contrast in lifestyle, even for the short time Aria had been here, was painfully evident. Outside, even in warm attire, it was cold. The slaves working those fields were in rags, barely enough to clothe oneself properly in temperate climates let alone here. Yet within these walls, a roaring fireplace crackled and sparked in seemingly every room they passed, and it was suffused with an aura of luxury and warmth - yet made colder by the knowledge of what was sacrificed to attain it 

Eventually, they reached another large set of doors, smaller than the entrance but still impressive, which revealed a large dining area. The table was long, with only two seats pulled out, one at each side. At the head, a veritable throne, complete with built in cushioning and ornate designs of all kinds, directly in front of a large fire, above which hung a hulking portrait of Vasili. At the foot of the table, a simpler chair, though still far more superfluously designed than the average stool. The implication was clear, but first Vasili stopped in the doorway. Turning back to Aria, he, unprompted, took her hand in his
_ _

"Oh, I almost forgot. Worry not for that young girl - she shall live. I am stern, not wasteful, haha! She'll be in working condition by next week, I can assure you" 

With a smile meant to be reassuring (or was he just trying to get a rise from her?), Vasili patted her hand with his free one, before releasing her, and walking over the head of the table. The chair was the same height as all the rest, and at its side was a small stool, which Vasili stepped up onto before seating himself. He smiled across the table as the doors swung closed and silence resumed, save for the rumbling fire and the faint, muffled sound of the wind, barely audible from within the castle

The room was clearly a sort of centrepiece, with a mighty golden chandelier above them, suspended from the ceiling. Animal heads were mounted all across the wall, deer, reindeer, bears of all kinds, and more, ranging from the smallest to the largest of creatures. Marble busts of Golitsin family members also lined the walls, seated on pedestals, Vasili's being directly behind Aria's seat

"Now we're out of the cold, we can both think with more level heads, hm? Though I well could, I shall not take the matter of your outburst so far as to involve the authorities. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more, no?"

Not even giving her a moment to confirm or deny this, Vasili continued, as a smaller set of doors swung open and more servants hurried out, plates, glasses, and cutlery in hand, and began to set the table. Vasili's meal had doubtless begun preparations hours ago, and was accompanied by a glass of fine wine, and an unnecessary quantity and variety of utensils - all of which seemed to be golden. Aria's spread was more... Ramshackle. Still by no means a poor meal, yet diminished in contrast to his. Everything here seemed purpose made to incite a feeling of uncomfortable jealousy, despite the fact that Aria had no good reason to be jealous of the Duke 
_ _

"Ah! Perfect, our refreshments. I do so hope you find it satisfactory, your meal was more last minute than mine"

The wait staff had that same expression as all the others did, blank, emotionless, never looking st anyone, deferring their gaze to the floor whenever possible, looking downwards with their hands clasped as they practically darted out of the room and gently closed the doors behind them, leaving the two alone again at the table. There weren't even any guards. Even though there were certainly some waiting outside, the message that he believed he could handle her unassisted was clear - and, surprisingly, not exactly far fetched
Renee
Although the castle was incredibly fancy, Aria couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease as she walked through it, and part of her wished she hadn't sheathed her claymore so readily. These walls, tall and sturdy, were no doubt built upon the corpses of generations upon generations of slaves, and even to this day, everything seemed operated by them. Her heart ached as she saw the servants rushing by, all seeming too afraid to even look at her. What had they gone through? She wished she could do something, anything for them, but she knew that the best thing to do was probably, well, nothing. Leave them be, at least then they wouldn't receive any further punishment.

At least they were able to live warmly here, perhaps with some semblance of comfort. It was likely much worse for the ones outside, who she could imagine had to spend their nights huddled together for warmth, hoping to survive another day. She wouldn't be surprised if they ended up dying by the dozens from being overworked, or underfed, or the cold, or a mix of all of those. The reason why these servants were treated slightly less terribly wasn't difficult to see, they resembled the Shapeshifters this land was known for to some extent.

Aria tried to put those thoughts out of her mind for now as they reached the second set of doors. Unsurprisingly, the dining area was just as ornate as the rest of the castle, although she noted a clear difference between the chairs. It almost annoyed her a little bit, she got the message, despite being superior in terms of physical power, she was lesser than him. But, she held her tongue, finding that provoking this man was a terrible idea. The portrait above his seat and the bust behind hers didn't make her very comfortable either, and she wasn't looking forward to being watched by three of Vasili as she ate.
_ _

Before she could step inside the room, though, she suddenly felt her hand being taken. If she weren't wearing her gauntlets, she might have pulled her hand away on instinct, perhaps even smacked him. Luckily for the both of them, that didn't happen, and Aria only gave a slight flinch, barely noticeable except to the most perceptive individuals - she didn't doubt for a second that he had seen it.

Were his words meant to reassure her? Because they didn't do that at all. She didn't get the feeling that he was directly lying, more so obscuring the truth in some way. A week wasn't nearly enough time to heal from such extensive injuries through natural means, although she was also certain that 'in working order' was not the same as fully healed. She really should have just grabbed her and left, at least then she would have been able to save one person from this horrible place, which was better than nobody at all.

Following him inside, Aria made her way to the chair meant for her, though she didn't sit down just yet. Instead, she undid the straps that tied her claymore to her back and leaned the weapon against the table in its scabbard, keeping it within arm's reach of her, just in case she might need it. It was always that close to her, and she never let it leave her sight, going so far as to hold on to it when she slept at night. Part of her wondered if one of the servants might try to take it, but then again, the thing was incredibly heavy, so she doubted any one of them would be able to lift it. A second of hesitation, and then Aria took off her helmet as well, setting it down on the ground beside the weapon.
_ _

It revealed a face that could be considered attractive, with slightly tanned skin, long, auburn hair that now hung loosely over her shoulders, and the golden glowing eyes of an Aasimar, making it difficult to see where she was looking. Her expression was purposefully kept neutral, hiding the complicated mess of emotions she felt deep inside her. Aria wasn't revealing her face because she particularly wanted to, no, she just knew it was considered a polite thing to do so - plus, it was a bit difficult to eat with her helmet on.

Only when her host sat down did she follow his example, sitting on the front half of the seat, as her wings made it impossible to rest her back against the backrest. Aria was used to that, though, so she didn't look particularly awkward while seated. She listened as he spoke, resisting the urge to argue. As if she should be grateful for that. A light twitch of her upper lip perhaps revealed her annoyance, or maybe it may be attributed to more of a nervous tic, it was hard to tell.

Aria turned her head to look at the servants as the meal was brought in, noting the clear difference between the two of them. Still, her side looked to be a better meal than she'd eaten in months, her lifestyle, constantly being on the road, didn't allow her to eat that well very often. "I am certain it will be more than satisfactory," She commented, wondering absently if it had been poisoned. No, this man didn't need poison to harm her, he could likely just make her do it herself with his enchantment.
_ _

Focusing her attention back on the man - noting that even seated, she towered over him, Aria folded her hands together, elbows resting on the table, lowering her head slightly as if she were about to start praying, and then, she stopped, remembering that may be seen as an insult. "May I recite a prayer before I eat? It will not take long," She asked, although she was planning to do it anyway - the only difference would be if she did it openly or only in her head.
Thelma
Her flinch at his touch, infinitesimal as it was, did indeed not go unnoticed. Vasili was always smiling, always, which had drastically different connotations dependent on your status in terms of class and species. In this case, the barest tittering giggle and the slightest extra curve in his grin signalled the recognition of her involuntary reaction. Useful knowledge, if only as a way to make her needlessly uncomfortable in social situations, so... Debatably useful 

By "In working order", Vasili had indeed not meant fully healed. She'd be thrown into her bunkhouse (after another thorough battering from one of the guards), and left for a week, maybe two. After that, they'd start forcing her to work again. Either she'd push through the pain and do her job, or she'd be forced to literally work herself to death. After all, the other option was not only losing a labourer temporarily, but expending medical supplies on her, which was far too much to ask. Better to eek the last remnants of resolve out of them before dumping them into one of the burial pits, destined to become one of thousands, a mere drop in the ocean of desiccated corpses beneath these grounds. Were a Shaman to ever step foot on this estate, they'd likely have a stroke for the sheer quantity of tortured souls present 

Vasili, as a learned man, obviously knew what Aasimar were, yet his eyebrows raised ever so slightly in acknowledgment as she took her helmet off, hair tumbling out of it and falling into place, eyes burning a brilliant gold. As she answered his question and asked another, he took a sip of wine from his goblet, cast in gold not dissimilar to the one emanating from within her eyes right now. He took his time with it, clasping two fingers and a thumb around the neck of the glass, lifting it up, swirling it softly for a while, taking a sniff, then finally taking a tiny swig of the wine, before setting it down once more
_ _

"Why, of course! I would not deprive of you that, and besides, I shall enjoy learning of you and your kinds fanciful little rituals. Please, go right ahead"

The Duke leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and laying his left hand upon them, as he rested his head upon his right arm, propped up upon the armrest. Whilst he was genuinely intrigued by what the prayer entailed, his specific wording was nothing more than further attempts to get a rise out of Aria. He had power, but power alone was not enough. One needed to exert it, to push the limits of what people would accept, to make them submit to you, body and mind. He couldn't do this with intimidation or physicality, and simply having a militia to order around wasn't enough. This was why he had honed his mastery over Enchantment to such a degree 

The silence was so... Odd. The absence of the constant wind and snow present in Gantrick would be welcome anywhere but here, but as she *Was* Here, it served only to unnerve. Cold, dead, eyes looked down at her from all angles, mounted taxidermy animals of all kinds. Killed for sport, or simply for the prestige, and immortalised in this hall. It was most likely the Castellans ancestors who'd actually killed them all - Vasili didn't seem the type, given his garb and his stature. He watched intently as she prayed, as if judging the quality of some contest, as though her faith was some circus performance on display for him. He only hammered that feeling home with his reaction, a dainty sequence of small claps

"Oh, how wonderfully quaint! Foreigners do so amuse me, with all your intricate little rituals. Truly wondrous, haha!"
_ _

Whilst worship of all Gods was common throughout most of Lucidien, Gantrick was incredibly culturally homogenous, and so Ursus, creator of the Shapeshifters, was the only true religion in the country, especially here in the core territories of the Fallholt Duchy and the Royal Holdings. Though, once more, Vasili was not truly this mystified by the prayer, and was instead trying to mock Aria at every turn. He wanted an outburst, or at least some noticeable expression of anger, just so he could goad her ever further, only to dangle his authority overhead, over and over. And he didn't stop there 

"Now, the subject I invited you in to discuss. Surely, you can see the boons of slavery, eh? Yes, yes, 'barbaric' they say, 'inhumane' they say, but what of it? Gantrick is a thriving state,-" At this, Vasili motioned all around him, glancing to the busts, the intricate portraits, his own golden cutlery, and the magnificent chandelier above, throwing his arms wide "-devoid of that putrid Alynthian degeneracy. Take you, for example, an Aasimar. You may not be a Shapeshifter, but you are a proud and storied people, no? And you are pure, no half-breed mongrel like some common half-human, yes? Surely, you can understand, beyond your own personal misgivings, the many benefits of our system"

He finished his monologue with the continuance of his ever present smirk, before picking up one of his many forks from the frankly ridiculous array of them (on both sides, Aria's and his) and taking the corresponding knife to begin sawing at his cut of meat, before biting down on a small chunk as she delivered her response, smiling all the while
Renee
Noting the light giggle and his grin curving slightly more, Aria knew that her involuntary flinch had been spotted, and she worried that this information would be used against her in the future. Part of her was beginning to regret that she hadn't just cleaved this man's head clean off when she had the chance, but even if she had managed to kill him, what would that have accomplished? She didn't doubt for a second that the castle's guard would have killed her in response, and he would simply be replaced by someone else - this land had more than enough terrible people, after all.

She decided not to comment on the raise of his eyebrows at her reveal, though it did make her wonder, had he ever seen one like her before? Sure, he'd recognized her species earlier, but that hadn't exactly been difficult - few other races had wings that were this size, and she wasn't aware of any other species whose wings were colored a white that was this pure. There was also the concerning thought that perhaps there were other Aasimar imprisoned here, and then the even more concerning thought that if Kamara hadn't saved her, Aria might have been enslaved here as well.

Of course he was going to let her question hang there, that wasn't surprising. The Duke certainly seemed to enjoy showing off that he was still above her in this place. But, well, there wasn't much Aria could do about that, so she just let the silence hang there, waiting patiently. She felt that she should be careful to hide her reactions, not give him any more ammo to work with - though, then again, if he so desired, he could probably force any information out of her that he wanted to.
_ _

She nodded when Vasili gave her the go-ahead, the purpose of his wording clear as day. He was definitely trying to piss her off, or at least get her emotional in some way. Aria was going to try her best not to let him, attempt to let his words slide off her. Luckily, she'd met her fair share of annoying people in her life, so she had some experience with doing so.

Keeping her hands folded, Aria lowered her head and lightly pressed her forehead against her hands, closing her eyes and muttering her prayer in a soft voice that Vasili might or might not hear, depending on how good his ears were. It was one that someone might use in a tavern, or anywhere else where they were served food, albeit slightly modified. It thanked the gods for the meal, and the servants for preparing it, and then wished well upon the servants. Usually, one might include the host in the prayer for letting them into his house and offering the food, but that part was notably absent from Aria's prayer - a not-so-subtle dig at Vasili. She doubted he'd be bothered by it, though, it was more for the sake of her own sanity.

Aria lowered her hands and raised her head, straightening her back once more. She was aware that the Duke had been observing her, though those weren't the only eyes on her. Even if she wasn't looking at them directly, she could still feel the presence of the animals' eyes on her, watching her every move. Was this room made specifically to unnerve guests? It wouldn't surprise her. The silence didn't help very much either, and Aria could feel her heart beating in her chest, the feeling a lot more obvious than it usually would be. At least she was still able to wear her armor, she was certain that she wouldn't have been able to handle this, had she been forced to take it off.
_ _

With that out of the way, she turned her attention to the food she'd been offered. Although it wasn't as fancy as Vasili's, it was likely a much better meal than what she'd been eating for the past few months. Then again, she was also very aware of what had gone into it. How many people had died to farm these vegetables, this meat? How could she even eat it, with that knowledge on her mind, the awareness of the suffering that had gone into it? Her gaze turned to the Duke, watching him as he spoke, wondering to herself how someone could be this awful and go unpunished.

Aria remained quiet for a long moment, not because he had a point, but because the sheer audacity of his words baffled her. How could he say something like that? Did he truly believe it? It made her feel sick to her stomach, her appetite vanished completely.

She took a breath to steady herself, to not give in to her quickly growing anger. She had to stay calm. She had to, otherwise he might actually get under her skin. "I can see that this land may appear to be thriving on the surface," She spoke, her voice perfectly steady, "But I do not see the benefits of such unnecessary cruelty. Other countries are doing just as well, if not better, without having to utilize slavery."

Setting aside her discomfort with the situation, Aria picked up the largest fork and knife - mostly because anything smaller would be dwarfed in her hands - and cut off a piece of the nearest vegetable, putting it into her mouth and chewing as if she wasn't incredibly bothered by the way it had been produced. She made sure to swallow before continuing - wouldn't want to be caught being improper, after all. "People work far better when they are fed and well cared for, not treated like animals. I do not see a single benefit such a system may have, except to satisfy one's need to cause harm to others."
Thelma
Vasili chuckled at her response, shaking his head as if having just listen to some flight of fancy a child had delivered, as if her opposition to slavery were merely a product of foolishness and naïvety. Despite being of great intellect, the Duke did truly believe the wretched lies he touted. His vehement hatred to many other races, his dislike of so called 'impure' hybrids like half-humans, and his latent desire to hold power over and inflict suffering upon this beneath him, overpowered whatever reason and logic might stand in the way

"Oh ho ho, my dear, if only it were so *Simple* As that. What a world would it be, if nobody had to suffer, Hm? Why concern myself with the petty contrivances of those beneath me, when I can extract the only thing that makes them useful? Out in those fields, they are not people. They are property, *My* Property, and they are such because I am above them, and they are beneath me. It is the way of the world, my dear, and a truth you must learn to acknowledge"

He continued eating, dignified and graceful, unreasonable delicate in all his movements. Such a paradox, a man so small, dainty, and unimposing, holding such power, orchestrating such unfathomable cruelty, holding such influence over someone like Aria, a physical titan clad in garments of war and armed with a blade of immense impact. Presuming she had been, once more, stunned to silence, he continued 

"And, you know, so many people I have talked with on this issue, they say 'but the workers do their job better when fed and watered well, cared for', but I just don't see it. There are so many benefits to truly conditioning someone, you know? You know what? I shall use an example"

Vasili sharply cut the silence of the room with a snap of his fingers, unusually loud. Moments later, two servant girls rushed out of the kitchen and stood to attention in front of the door, looking to Vasili, hands clasped in front of them
_ _

"Now, were these fine servants employed, rather than owned, by me, they would be entitled to so many frivolities. They could afford to be flippant, or tardy, or layabouts - and what could I do? Legally speaking, naught but fire them, and pass off these subpar workers to good nobles home. But as slaves, their wills can be bent to exactly my specifications!"

He turned to the girls, snapping his fingers again at them and pointing to the side of the table, near his chair but still a small ways down. They, again, rushed to where they were supposed to be, gaze centred straight ahead. They were clad in simple clothing, but it was clean as a whistle, devoid of any rips or tears, so as not to tarnish the aesthetic of Southhallow

"You, on the left. Strike her"

They quickly complied, stepping a pace or so away from the table and facing each other. The girl on the left readied her arm, and swung, slapping her coworker across the face with not insignificant power. Though she stumbled slightly, the second girl quickly regained her composure and stood straight again, a mark visible on her cheek and tears welling in her ears, tears she was vehemently fighting against. Vasili turned to Aria again, motioning with one hand to the girls 

"You see? You see the dedication they have? I have taken these lesser creatures from whatever degenerate folly they were entrapped in prior to their stay at my grounds, and moulded them into productive members of Gantrick's society and dutiful workers. And you may again appeal to the morality argument, yes, but I assure you, this *Is* The moral path! These girls, half-humans both of the, whilst they look presentable, they are not truly on level with me. It's good for them, instils proper values into their simplistic minds-" 

Vasili, unaware of how utterly depraved and monstrous he sounded to any reasonable person, chuckled slightly, as if aghast that Aria didn't acknowledge the benefits to this foul system 
_ _

"Alright, alright, my point is made. Once more, then return to your duties"

The girl who'd been struck previously, having fought off true tears as Vasili monologues about her lack of worth as a being, almost audibly sobbed at this, her face contorting, before she quickly regained composure, a single tear having escaped. Her counterpart, similarly distraught, simply breathed in deep, then struck again. This time, the girl stumbled more, going further off track. A sizeable welt now sat upon her cheek, but she still marched back to the kitchen with the discipline and grace shown before. Vasili just took another sip of his wine