Post by Aurelia on Dec 17, 2008 4:31:17 GMT -8
Like water they parted to either side, milling merchants and commoners, crowding close to see her. Just to glimpse her. Many were hawking wares to the faithful on their way to the temple, others were browsing those wares, and still others were pressing through the mob as well. Those who were too slow to clear way for her, or perhaps just too stupid, felt the butt of a staff or the flat of a blade. That stimuli was generally enough to convince them to move. It was detestable when they had to show force, but her guardians were up to the task. Twelve in all, bedecked in the deep reds and black tones of their heavy nightmare armor plating, she liked big numbers like that. They were all the best she could find, muscular young men all, tall and thin, only the most perfect of specimens. She enjoyed watching them, her little playthings. They would do anything for her. With but a breath they would shed their lives for her, or more likely shed someone else's, she loved that more than anything. She had never bothered to learn their names. When they grew old she would replace them, there was not a wrinkle, blemish, nor scar among their faces. Well, there were a few blemishes, but nothing she'd not put there in the heat of the night, and certainly nothing visible to anyone else. Though beneath all that plating her marks were certain to be in evidence.
There was no questioning it, she was beautiful and regal, a noble through and through. Tall and slender, age had only refined her, adding the faintest traces of silver to her hair, and only the most vague hint of creases at her eyes. Her race was beautiful and elegant with their flawless pale blue skin, and she was no exception. She had never seen a reason to hide it. The dress she wore was proof of that, its deep neckline slipped all the way from her ample, only faintly sagging, bosom to her pierced naval, which displayed a lovely budding rose of gorgeous glittering diamonds. The snowy white diaphanous silks brought all the way from Elmore clung to her hips, alluringly, accented by countless glittering gemstones from the farthest reaches of the realms and made by the greatest of tailors. It could not be copied, she had seen to that, the patterns had been burned and the seamstress's eyes had been scorched out and her tongue severed. The tiny tiara atop her head was no different, newly polished and set with a hundred diamonds and a single sapphire the largest she could find. All her jewels matched from her wrist, full of delicate bracelets, to her ten bejeweled rings, a custom set few could match. How many smiths had she flogged to get these perfect pieces? She could not seem to recall. Seven had died in collecting the gems, she could recall that number for some reason, but it was well worth the cost. She would have paid it a hundred times over. It was important to look as powerful as you were.
She looked on as the crowd eyed her. The feathered fan in her hand fluttered irritatedly. "Must this take so long. My last men would have had me to the temple already, at this rate we will be quite late. I despise being late." This was a lie though. She loved being late. There was nothing more elegant and defining than to step into the temple and be the only one standing, to have all those eyes turn to her. Even the Celebrant would pause in her words, to await her seat. Yes, the entire world would wait on her for just a fleeting moment, and she loved it. It was how it should be! She had delayed their departure in truth, though she would never admit it, not to Shilen herself. No it would be one of her toys faults again, and she would punish him for it tonight. She had not used the red leather whip in some time, she liked that one, the color so close to blood never stained, not like the silken wrist bindings that she had to replace after every session. She fluttered the fan faster, it certainly seemed warmer now that she had thought it to be.
The lieutenant, she thought that was the rank he held at least, knuckled his forehead. "Mistress Vlasta, the crowd is thick, time is not our friend. I do not think we shall make it on time, I fear we left too late." His eyes never met hers. He had a hard body, tight muscles and strong shoulders and despite all his armor she thought he had a marvelous behind.
Despite herself she licked her lips and glanced upward, how she wanted to stop right now and prove he was hers, overhead the bright blue power that coursed through the magnificent statue of Shilen leapt and crackled. Such actions were not the actions of a noble woman though. There was custom to uphold, and she had the prestige of four dead husbands to carry on, each powerful nobles and generals themselves. When she looked back down to him her face was cool serenity, and her voice harsh as ice. "Unacceptable, when we return to the manor, you shall present yourself before my chamber. You shall be punished, your indolent behavior will cost me greatly. Do you know how many people will be gathered at this dark mass?" She sniffed haughtily, but did not wait for him to respond. His words would be futile and of no consequence anyhow, unless he dared to talk back. "Wear that white robe, the one with the embroidered roses. Yes, that one will do nicely." Her lips twitched into a thin smile as she imagined him in the thin shimmering silken robe. "Quite nicely."
Again he knuckled his head, and the procession pressed on through the throngs of onlookers. A few moments later they were stepping out into the sunlight. Shilen's hand had vanished down the curving tunnel, though she knew if she turned and looked the faint blue hue it cast could still be seen faintly. She did not bother to, it would not look proper to look as if she were truly interested in that radiant power. She was, however, how she dreamed of harnessing that power in her project, but such a task would have drawn so many eyes, and there would be no way to hide it, tongues would wag and every organization in the land would be poking their heads into her little project. He fan twitched faster in her hand, and her wrist gave the faintest ache. She ignored the pain, she knew what it was, but she could not be seen to show any weakness. Out there among the myriad of faces were at least a dozen lesser nobles and lordlings who would be all too quick to exploit any weakness she displayed in their grapple for her power, and the vacant seat her spouse would fill. A quick rise it would be for any of them. She could not blame them, in their shoes she would do the same, or rather had done the same.
The shadows took them again, as they passed through the great arches of the temple. The service was just beginning, she had timed everything perfectly! Strangely though heads turned, there was no break. A flash of irritation swept across her face, but she reigned it in. Her eyes were drawn to the far end of the great hall, where a young dark elven maiden was just beginning to sing. Perhaps the Celebrant rendering the ceremony had prepared something different this year. It did not usually begin with song. She might have to actually listen, or else she would find herself less able to converse when it came to this week's tea party. She was hosting it too, she had volunteered, there was no better way to show off one's worth and importance than to invite others into your home. Her grand tapestries, expensive woods, exotic displays and collections of priceless antique artifacts had always done well to put those nobles who mistakenly thought themselves her equals in their place. There were only a few who could offer such displays of equivalent luxury and those became her fastest of friends. It was how wars were won, it was how mountains moved, and all with the sipping of tea and the eating of a few sweet rolls. She watched the young woman a moment, she at least was able to relish the wide eyed looks that the congregation cast at her and the open mouthed stare she was receiving from one of the young acolytes. Really, the girl looked like she was trying to catch a fly.
She was still enjoying the wave of disruption that was coursing through the crowd of faithful as she found her seat. It was a reserved row, with only those of nobility or high faith positions sitting near. She had no business mingling with the common folk. Her guards dispersed as she sat, two seated themselves to either side of her, their hands fixed tightly to the hilts of their swords, and eyes sweeping the crowd looking for the first signs of trouble. The rest moved to positions around the temple, within eyesight of one another, their eyes mirror images of the two beside her. If any one were to give the signal, all would have their weapons drawn and be rushing to her aid. She almost wanted something to happen, but nothing ever did. It was all procedure. She adjusted her dress slightly, giving the lieutenant sitting close a momentary glimpse of a deep blue areola. His tiny jolt of surprise and hasty look away gave her a moment of pleasure. Then she leaned back in the seat and gave her full attention to the singer. The song went something like this:
Darkness bless your last breath
For she shall have it
Inescapable!
undeniable!
the beautiful lady death
Forget your riches and your gold
forget your diamonds and pearls
They matter not!
A worthless lot!
They shall not follow to her fold
Darkness bless your last breath
For she shall have it
Inescapable!
undeniable!
the beautiful lady death
Think not of politics nor power
There is no title that can save you
No Queens or Kings!
Nor any bards strings!
Can bar you from her dark tower
Darkness bless your last breath
For she shall have it
Inescapable!
undeniable!
the beautiful lady death
You can climb the highest mountain
make sail the farthest oceans
Tuck yourself away!
flee the very day!
But you will be hers, it is certain
faith shall be your saving grace
In the next life she does wait
Go without doubt!
know, she Reaches out!
Blessed shall you be in Shilen's embrace
The song had a haunting melody played by three young men with citheras in the background, they were nearly hidden in the shadows, clearly all the focus was meant to be placed upon the young girl. It would have been to her liking, she decided as she listened, if the contents had been more pleasurable. The more she listened, the more she disliked it. Had this little tune been written just to get under her skin? Perhaps this was a manipulation of another house's hand, seeking to test her against the Celebrant. It would be foolish for them to even attempt to call her a heretic, unless someone had leaked word of her project. Still it put an uneasy feeling into her. She did not like thinking of the abyss, or Shilen waiting to take her, she did not want to die. She was needed here, she was powerful here. It seemed such a useless end, her body left to decompose and her estates and all her grand collections split up and divided to her undeserving next of kin. She would make certain to be dressed fashionably when she went, they said you did not take such valuables into the next life, but perhaps they were mistaken. Who could really know what went with you to the abyss? If she decided to die she would take a few of her toys she thought, the abyss sounded awfully dull, they would spice things up a bit.
A celebrant arose after the singer and began a long lecture on the goddess. She was followed by a Tetriarch. Most of their sermon was rehashed bits from the last several years. Oh they had mixed it up a bit, and given it new points. Maybe they had even changed a bit of wording here or there. It was less than entertaining though, and certainly did not keep her interest. Before long her hand was wriggling its way into a crevice of the lieutenant's armor and tickling his hard blue flesh. Watching him try not to writhe and the pain she knew his manhood was feeling beneath that armored codpiece was delight enough to get her through the rest of the mass. She would simply have to think of something to converse about at tea this week, something besides this mass and that dreadful song. She wondered how far she could take her fondling of the toy, already a faint blush was in his cheeks and his eyes were not sweeping the crowds as steadily. Such great fun this was turning out to be. To the rest of the world Mistress Vlasta, wealthy widow and multi-millionaire sat quietly observing the service of the faithful, only she and her lieutenant knew differently, and that is exactly the way she liked it.
There was no questioning it, she was beautiful and regal, a noble through and through. Tall and slender, age had only refined her, adding the faintest traces of silver to her hair, and only the most vague hint of creases at her eyes. Her race was beautiful and elegant with their flawless pale blue skin, and she was no exception. She had never seen a reason to hide it. The dress she wore was proof of that, its deep neckline slipped all the way from her ample, only faintly sagging, bosom to her pierced naval, which displayed a lovely budding rose of gorgeous glittering diamonds. The snowy white diaphanous silks brought all the way from Elmore clung to her hips, alluringly, accented by countless glittering gemstones from the farthest reaches of the realms and made by the greatest of tailors. It could not be copied, she had seen to that, the patterns had been burned and the seamstress's eyes had been scorched out and her tongue severed. The tiny tiara atop her head was no different, newly polished and set with a hundred diamonds and a single sapphire the largest she could find. All her jewels matched from her wrist, full of delicate bracelets, to her ten bejeweled rings, a custom set few could match. How many smiths had she flogged to get these perfect pieces? She could not seem to recall. Seven had died in collecting the gems, she could recall that number for some reason, but it was well worth the cost. She would have paid it a hundred times over. It was important to look as powerful as you were.
She looked on as the crowd eyed her. The feathered fan in her hand fluttered irritatedly. "Must this take so long. My last men would have had me to the temple already, at this rate we will be quite late. I despise being late." This was a lie though. She loved being late. There was nothing more elegant and defining than to step into the temple and be the only one standing, to have all those eyes turn to her. Even the Celebrant would pause in her words, to await her seat. Yes, the entire world would wait on her for just a fleeting moment, and she loved it. It was how it should be! She had delayed their departure in truth, though she would never admit it, not to Shilen herself. No it would be one of her toys faults again, and she would punish him for it tonight. She had not used the red leather whip in some time, she liked that one, the color so close to blood never stained, not like the silken wrist bindings that she had to replace after every session. She fluttered the fan faster, it certainly seemed warmer now that she had thought it to be.
The lieutenant, she thought that was the rank he held at least, knuckled his forehead. "Mistress Vlasta, the crowd is thick, time is not our friend. I do not think we shall make it on time, I fear we left too late." His eyes never met hers. He had a hard body, tight muscles and strong shoulders and despite all his armor she thought he had a marvelous behind.
Despite herself she licked her lips and glanced upward, how she wanted to stop right now and prove he was hers, overhead the bright blue power that coursed through the magnificent statue of Shilen leapt and crackled. Such actions were not the actions of a noble woman though. There was custom to uphold, and she had the prestige of four dead husbands to carry on, each powerful nobles and generals themselves. When she looked back down to him her face was cool serenity, and her voice harsh as ice. "Unacceptable, when we return to the manor, you shall present yourself before my chamber. You shall be punished, your indolent behavior will cost me greatly. Do you know how many people will be gathered at this dark mass?" She sniffed haughtily, but did not wait for him to respond. His words would be futile and of no consequence anyhow, unless he dared to talk back. "Wear that white robe, the one with the embroidered roses. Yes, that one will do nicely." Her lips twitched into a thin smile as she imagined him in the thin shimmering silken robe. "Quite nicely."
Again he knuckled his head, and the procession pressed on through the throngs of onlookers. A few moments later they were stepping out into the sunlight. Shilen's hand had vanished down the curving tunnel, though she knew if she turned and looked the faint blue hue it cast could still be seen faintly. She did not bother to, it would not look proper to look as if she were truly interested in that radiant power. She was, however, how she dreamed of harnessing that power in her project, but such a task would have drawn so many eyes, and there would be no way to hide it, tongues would wag and every organization in the land would be poking their heads into her little project. He fan twitched faster in her hand, and her wrist gave the faintest ache. She ignored the pain, she knew what it was, but she could not be seen to show any weakness. Out there among the myriad of faces were at least a dozen lesser nobles and lordlings who would be all too quick to exploit any weakness she displayed in their grapple for her power, and the vacant seat her spouse would fill. A quick rise it would be for any of them. She could not blame them, in their shoes she would do the same, or rather had done the same.
The shadows took them again, as they passed through the great arches of the temple. The service was just beginning, she had timed everything perfectly! Strangely though heads turned, there was no break. A flash of irritation swept across her face, but she reigned it in. Her eyes were drawn to the far end of the great hall, where a young dark elven maiden was just beginning to sing. Perhaps the Celebrant rendering the ceremony had prepared something different this year. It did not usually begin with song. She might have to actually listen, or else she would find herself less able to converse when it came to this week's tea party. She was hosting it too, she had volunteered, there was no better way to show off one's worth and importance than to invite others into your home. Her grand tapestries, expensive woods, exotic displays and collections of priceless antique artifacts had always done well to put those nobles who mistakenly thought themselves her equals in their place. There were only a few who could offer such displays of equivalent luxury and those became her fastest of friends. It was how wars were won, it was how mountains moved, and all with the sipping of tea and the eating of a few sweet rolls. She watched the young woman a moment, she at least was able to relish the wide eyed looks that the congregation cast at her and the open mouthed stare she was receiving from one of the young acolytes. Really, the girl looked like she was trying to catch a fly.
She was still enjoying the wave of disruption that was coursing through the crowd of faithful as she found her seat. It was a reserved row, with only those of nobility or high faith positions sitting near. She had no business mingling with the common folk. Her guards dispersed as she sat, two seated themselves to either side of her, their hands fixed tightly to the hilts of their swords, and eyes sweeping the crowd looking for the first signs of trouble. The rest moved to positions around the temple, within eyesight of one another, their eyes mirror images of the two beside her. If any one were to give the signal, all would have their weapons drawn and be rushing to her aid. She almost wanted something to happen, but nothing ever did. It was all procedure. She adjusted her dress slightly, giving the lieutenant sitting close a momentary glimpse of a deep blue areola. His tiny jolt of surprise and hasty look away gave her a moment of pleasure. Then she leaned back in the seat and gave her full attention to the singer. The song went something like this:
Darkness bless your last breath
For she shall have it
Inescapable!
undeniable!
the beautiful lady death
Forget your riches and your gold
forget your diamonds and pearls
They matter not!
A worthless lot!
They shall not follow to her fold
Darkness bless your last breath
For she shall have it
Inescapable!
undeniable!
the beautiful lady death
Think not of politics nor power
There is no title that can save you
No Queens or Kings!
Nor any bards strings!
Can bar you from her dark tower
Darkness bless your last breath
For she shall have it
Inescapable!
undeniable!
the beautiful lady death
You can climb the highest mountain
make sail the farthest oceans
Tuck yourself away!
flee the very day!
But you will be hers, it is certain
faith shall be your saving grace
In the next life she does wait
Go without doubt!
know, she Reaches out!
Blessed shall you be in Shilen's embrace
The song had a haunting melody played by three young men with citheras in the background, they were nearly hidden in the shadows, clearly all the focus was meant to be placed upon the young girl. It would have been to her liking, she decided as she listened, if the contents had been more pleasurable. The more she listened, the more she disliked it. Had this little tune been written just to get under her skin? Perhaps this was a manipulation of another house's hand, seeking to test her against the Celebrant. It would be foolish for them to even attempt to call her a heretic, unless someone had leaked word of her project. Still it put an uneasy feeling into her. She did not like thinking of the abyss, or Shilen waiting to take her, she did not want to die. She was needed here, she was powerful here. It seemed such a useless end, her body left to decompose and her estates and all her grand collections split up and divided to her undeserving next of kin. She would make certain to be dressed fashionably when she went, they said you did not take such valuables into the next life, but perhaps they were mistaken. Who could really know what went with you to the abyss? If she decided to die she would take a few of her toys she thought, the abyss sounded awfully dull, they would spice things up a bit.
A celebrant arose after the singer and began a long lecture on the goddess. She was followed by a Tetriarch. Most of their sermon was rehashed bits from the last several years. Oh they had mixed it up a bit, and given it new points. Maybe they had even changed a bit of wording here or there. It was less than entertaining though, and certainly did not keep her interest. Before long her hand was wriggling its way into a crevice of the lieutenant's armor and tickling his hard blue flesh. Watching him try not to writhe and the pain she knew his manhood was feeling beneath that armored codpiece was delight enough to get her through the rest of the mass. She would simply have to think of something to converse about at tea this week, something besides this mass and that dreadful song. She wondered how far she could take her fondling of the toy, already a faint blush was in his cheeks and his eyes were not sweeping the crowds as steadily. Such great fun this was turning out to be. To the rest of the world Mistress Vlasta, wealthy widow and multi-millionaire sat quietly observing the service of the faithful, only she and her lieutenant knew differently, and that is exactly the way she liked it.
