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Kinwrathi · (11-04-2013)

Glad to See Things Don't Change

Derellik: 10th Level of Sethin

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here...

The arid, stale air floated around the main hall of the castle, like it always had. Standing in the large room's center, rapidly inhaling and exhaling through her nostrils was none other than this lair's undisputed queen: Arellia, Joltinen Chieftain of Treason. Content, eyes shifting across the room, unable to keep focused on one item for more than a few seconds, she finally returns her attention to the glowing blue portal beaming in front of her. Finally able to maintain focus, she snaps at the beacon, the agitation in her voice apparent.

"Tell me; why should I give up everything I have here to help you?" In her left hand, she takes a patch of her hair, twisting and twirling it about in her fingers. With an unenthused glare, she watches the beacon, the shining blue light, waiting for the voice on the other side to communicate its response.

"Simple, my dear," the voice begins, the man behind it chuckling before continuing. "Why do anything?"

"Power, of course!" Arrellia's mouth moves faster than her brain can think to stop her, and the same arrogant chuckle comes from beyond the portal. Her eyes widen, brow furrowing.

"Bingo, kiddo."

"And all I have to do, is come to Earth? It's just there, ripe for the taking?" Oh, she was definitely curious about this prospect, and making no effort to hide it. Feeling the man on the other end of this conversation smirking, she tries to conceal it halfheartedly.

"For a pretty little thing like you; to say easy would be an understatement." The chuckle gradually forms itself into a laugh, and the portal opens wider, transforming from a straight blue line to a robust circle, seemingly pulling the Chieftain in. Stepping into the blinding blue light, Arrellia floats weightless in a neverending expanse of the same color. The pressure of the light forcing itself into her eyes forces her to close both, drowning her sight with blackness.

Soon, that blackness is all she can see...

A Brief Insight Into the Life of Queen Arin Borellia

The dank, damp air inside the near pitch black cave lingered in the air, polluting atmosphere of this less than official meeting. A single torch sat in the center of the table held up by a makeshift candlestick. The surface of the table itself is covered by a large map, several locations marked in red ink, including that of the imperial palace. Seated around the table, a gruff, bearded man dressed in a tunic roughly covered by a fur coated cuirass, two others who appeared strikingly similar to him minus a few years of experience, and lastly a woman dressed in royal purple. Sitting in silence for a few moments, the odd woman out breaks the silence, pointing to a red circle on the map.

"There. That's where he is." Slowly sliding her finger off the circle, she drags the tip in a near straight line to large circle in the middle, the imperial palace. "That's where he's going."

Looking over the two locations for a moment, the older "gentleman" places his own grimy, sweaty finger on a crude drawing of mountains overlooking an area between the two destinations. Keeping it placed there for a few seconds, seemingly contemplating something, he clears his throat and in his own coarse voice, grunts out a suggestion.

"Here. We strike here."

Shaking her head, immediately dismissing the idea, the woman pipes in.

"No! That's where rebels make their camp, it's too obvious."

"Then where?"

"Maybe, we could come from here!" One of the others; the man sitting between the woman and his own leader, jabs his finger at an equally crude drawing of trees and a stream, closer to the palace.

"Hmm..." Scanning the location, her eyes lit up almost brighter than the torch. "Yes, this will do nicely." A cold snicker erupted from her mouth, causing the unnerved men to glare at her with uncertainty.

"So, about payment..." Disgruntled at his subordinate's idea being better than his own; the leader opted to change subjects without warning.

"It will be delivered after the deed is done."

"Sorry lady; something this serious? We're going to need it up front."

"Why? So you can paid to do nothing?" Exploding out of her seat, she storms over to the leader, stabbing his chest with her finger. Eyes widened, a scowl on his face, he gets up and shoves her lightly, sending her back a bit.

"I suggest you don't do that."

"You don't tell me to do anything, you bandit piece of waste."

Reaching for his sword, the last of the group to do anything stops the leader before he can point it at the woman.

"Stop! We aren't getting paid if you kill her!"

"We aren't getting paid anything anyway. This bitch doesn't trust us!"

"If you were trustworthy, you wouldn't be hiding in this cave like a pack of animals, would you? If you were legitimate businessmen, I wouldn't be coming to you with this opportunity now, would I? You aren't worth my trust, and you should consider this as charity. I'm giving you wealth unheard of in your heathen native culture, and all you have to do is wait until after you do this job!"

Laughing, the leader lowers his weapon back into the sheath on his waist. Approaching the woman, he lays his greasy, unkempt hand on her shoulder, staining the purple colored fabric.

"Cut the superior shit, lady. That fire in your eyes? You're one of us, one of the 'heathens,' as you call yourself."

Throwing his hand off her, she sighs before beginning to laugh that same cold snicker.

"Yeah, you're right."

"So, about the payment."

"After the job."

"Deal."

Smiling, she shakes each man's rough, damp hands before making her way out of the pitch black cave into the cold darkness of the Cyridian night, climbing in the carriage of horses left outside to take her back home.

To that big red circle.

To the imperial palace.

Home, was about to get a little less crowded.

"Did you get what needed out of those, neanderthals?" In his posh accent, her personal assistant barks the question at her as she climbs into the cab.

"Yes sir, I did."

Sighing, she found solace in the fact that this would be the last night that she'd have to call this weakling of a royal official "sir."

The Awakening

Fading back into consciousness, the first thing Arrellia notices is the cold, tile floor below her. Pushing off the ground and getting to her knees, she's startles to see two familiar figures in the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"Look who finally woke up!"

"Ugh, fuck you." Groaning, she grabs onto the counter of the sink, using it to pull herself up. Turning around, she faces the two, her spinning head making eye contact impossible.

"Oh, no need to be so angry!"

"So, about what we talked about earlier, Kin-" She ignores Itaria's attempt at humor/reassurance/whatever that introvert bitch meant only to be interrupted by the man himself, Kinwrathi.

"Soon. For now though? It's Derrick. Remember that."

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