Fate - First Reply A snake in a web

A 1x1 Roleplay where the first writer to respond can join
A deep sigh left him, deflating his chest before he answered, keeping his eyes closed, speaking over her hair and shoulder.

"You may lay with who you like. Jealousy is for your kind not mine. If I want you to myself you will know it."

He endured the pricks and tickles until he could not and wrapped his arms about her own, constricting her in a squeezing hold.

"Speak no more of this!"
Darkoath was too tired to contemplate children, even impossible ones. Loosening his hold he let his arms flop out to the sides and huffed. Eyes never opening.

"Anyone I had is gone and leagues from here. They would not come but to see my corpse themselves."

To change the topic or perhaps spurned by a morbid curiosity he found Tyrnael's left hand and brought the wound to his mouth, tasting her blood.

"But if you want any of these consorts dead for any reason..."
Letting his offer hang unfinished a wry grin krept along his face.

Tyrnael Myrlochar
 
Tyrnael laughed - a small giggle nearly caught within her throat - as Darkoath shifted around beneath her to face her, pinning her arms to her sides beneath his and ending her playful tormenting. She grinned broadly to hear his annoyed spoken disclaimer about jealousy, even as his arms and body spoke quite contradictory things to hers, claiming her forcefully, even... rebuking her. It was a new, heady sensation to be held so by a lover. She did not resist him bringing her hand to his face to taste her blood, smeared over the scabrous crust of their mingled oath-blood. She merely drew in a long, exhausted breath, letting it slowly leak back onto his neck and chest as she settled her head back onto him. Another trapped half-giggle tinkled within her throat at Darkoath's jest about murdering unwanted consorts, which sounded far more honest to her ears. She did not reply. Surrendering to her fatigue, Tyrnael simply allowed her mind to rest, scarlet eyes glazing into the trance of reverie, a smile still curling her lips.


The next day, Tyrnael stood before her assembled house in her Rahi-pinned Yathallar raiment, Darkoath looming behind her to her right. Her entire body felt deliciously sore, the aching at every movement providing incontrovertible evidence that she yet lived. My, had she needed that!

Her scarlet eyes searched each face in the room, marking each person's features, the degree of fear in each set of young eyes. Ferzil of course greeted her with a smugly arched eyebrow and a laconic eye toss toward the orc. She hastily shifted her gaze to her sister, giving her a little extra scrutiny, thanking the Dark Maiden that she was yet too young to suspect. A similarly mocking face from her would have shattered her serious mien. Finally, she spoke:

"House Myrlochar. Regents for a millenium of Valsharess. Second-House of Zar'Ahal. A millenium of respect and splendor, discarded away for one Drow's vanity. For one Drow's envy. For one Drow's blinded pride. For the sins of Ilharess Elyzrra Myrlochar, four sisters and a brother lie in ignoble repose, limbs scattered and skulls trodden, while she whose folly slew them was buried with highest honors. Justice is cruelly fleeting, is it not? And now the rank of Ilharess has fallen to me, Tyrnael, onetime third-daughter, fifth-born child of my house. I must look more like a sister than a matron to your eyes. But you will know who I am!"

"I am Tyrnael Myrlochar, the Queenslayer! She who slew the usurper Dalrithia! She whose action restored the rightful Valsharess, Vyx'aria Tor'rahel! She who became the youngest Yathallar in a thousand years! She who serves as Rahi'Valsharess, by decree to be gainsaid by none save Vyx'aria herself! I will not fail you as my foolish, prideful mother failed the luckless ranks who stood before her! I will see you all trained well, to face the coming storm with me at your head! I will see that you survive with me the great conflicts that will test all the great houses! And I will share with you now our Queen's words!"

"Hatred and pain are not weaknesses. They are raw materials. Shape them into blades and turn them outward, toward the conquests ahead."

"I see hatred and pain in the faces before me. You were discarded by Matron Suulet'jabar, given over to the shame and disgrace in which House Myrlochar now lies. We are the raw materials, you and I. Let us sharpen our swords for the coming conquest."

"This is your Weapons-Master, Darkoath! He was once my foe, before the spires of Shay Tirloc! Eleven of Zar'Ahal's finest fell to his onslaught, though he was beset by twenty! And as Vyx'aria redeemed me to her service, so have I redeemed Darkoath to mine! Know that Darkoath speaks with my authority! I will brook no disrespect shown him or me. Learn from him, and live. Learn from him, and thrive! For he has sworn to teach you the discipline, the cunning, and the wrath which will set House Myrlochar apart in prowess from all others! So now I ask you - who are you who stand before me?"

The chant arose with several voices, joined by the rest, some fervently, others nervously: "MYR-LO-CHAR! MYR-LO-CHAR! MYR-LO-CHAR!"

Tyrnael folded her arms and bowed in salute, then strode away as the chanting continued, leaving the room to Darkoath.

Darkoath
 
The crack of the whip rang in their ears as Darkoath stepped before the assembled in all his trappings but his hood.

"Some of you may resent me because of my birth. You call me cretok. I don't care, I call you elfling. Others may bawk at my manhood. That's a waste of time. It's not going to change. You are stuck with me."

Grinning at them he wondered if he was being spied upon and assumed that he was even as he instructed them to drop their weapons and armour and form a ring about him in the room.

"You can take orders, that's something. But obedience is not discipline."

Again he cracked the whip.

"You two."
His finger pointed the two who he confronted last night.

"In the middle now."
They obeyed but with visible nerves.

"Last night you abandoned your posts."
"You said..."
The whip took the tip of her ear off before she could finish. Blood hit the floor as she clutched it.

"You left your mistress unguarded."
There was no reply to that.

"You will need to prove worthy of staying among us."
Inclusion mattered, ritual mattered. He would give them a ritual to follow. One they would all come to taste in time.
Each of them except the two in the middle were given wooden swords. Then they formed two lines.

"Each of you will strike these failures once as they pass between you. Any found showing mercy will join them. Begin."

It took almost five full minutes for them both to make it through. By the end they looked half dead.

"Good. Now stand and drink with me."
Confusion filled the room and he helped the two from the floor to get up and offered them both wine.

"It hurts yes? I remember my first time. I thought the ringing would never leave my ears."
He laughed then and took a drink himself.

"This is your first lesson. Share. Share your failures, share your punishments and share your triumphs."

The rest of the morning the others did drills as Darkoath talked to the two who ran the gauntlet.

Later after it was done he sought out Tyrnael, she insisted on daily reports but Darkoath could not help but be glad to see her, even if it was not in the previous nights manner.

"The first day is done. Que'lav and Dulh'a have been punished for leaving your chamber unguarded. They are now very drunk. I recommend letting them sleep it off before assigning them duty again."


Tyrnael Myrlochar ael
 
  • Orc
Reactions: Tyrnael Myrlochar
Tyrnael looked up from her desk, then stood to greet him, with the slight inclination and flourish of open palms she owed his rank. Once again true to her word, she had entrusted her guard-troops fully to his care without any interference from her own presence. She had in fact only just been apprised by her brother, the effete, lanky wizard, of the orc-champion’s methods and their surprising efficiacy not long before Darkoath himself came to report.

“Noted, Weapons-Master. Que'lav and Dulh'a’s assignments fall to you or your second, if delegated.”

Once the door closed, she allowed the smile her heart felt to slightly curl her lips.

“You made quite an impression on Ferzil, Darkoath. I honestly had no idea he cared for such affairs, but his detailed notes speak otherwise. I am content to continue with your methods. If I ought fill any role, find me, and I shall make what time I may considering my obligations to the Valsharess.”

She met his gaze fully, drinking in his apparent pleasure to be in her presence, her grin broadening.

“You made quite an impression on me as well. If you should ever want me for yourself, as you said, let me know it, as you promised. I find there is, hmm, great power in kept oaths.”

Darkoath
 
Last edited:
"Hmmm I can see to it myself. I have yet to chose a second. I'll make my selection by the end of the week."

It was hard for Darkoath to acknowledge Ferzil. Something about that man did not smell right to him but he was not going to invite spoil on his current success.

"Your brother is good at taking notes and not being noticed but I lost track of your sister before him. She'd make an impressive knife in the dark."

Another proposal. We're these going to be so frequent? He was still healing from the previous night he woke up blood stuck to the sheets.

"For the work you should make visits, inspections, whatever you call them doesn't matter. See them work. Applaud them, cheer them. Sooth them when they are hurt and encourage them to strive when their will weakens. The fire I start in them will need feeding regularly."

He dropped his body onto a chair and stretched. It was a lot to do after three days of starving, he was not yet at his best and he felt his shoulder twinge as he cracked the whip.

"Hmm, won't that put off your consorts when they arrive?"
Working his shoulder a minute he found the spot that ached and worked it with two fingers.

"I can't imagine word not getting out that you share your bed with an orc, cretok. We're trying to improve your reputation."

In truth he did not know much of how all of the intricacies worked. What saving face looked like or what brought Elflings shame.

Tyrnael Myrlochar
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back