Dreadlords Great Privilege

[Coriane Siurane]

A wind came up from the Cortosi Coast and wrapped its fingers around Vel Anir, that great fortress city which bore the Dreadlords. It caressed the Walls and danced through the Anir Square, it brushed through Coriane Siurane's auburn-brown hair as she walked and made her dress of silver flutter on its breeze. The stitching that ran up the arms of her dress, skirts divided for riding, marked her as a Dreadlord in red, black, and white. And, even in the packed Anir Square, people stayed well away from her. Casually, she read a piece of small parchment, a few words scrawled onto it, as she walked down the grand pavement.

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Four simple words, she already knew what she had to do. As she traversed the square and turned to the east, she tossed the piece of paper into the air and it burned brightly, as though it never been, not even leaving a bit of ash. Coriane rubbed her hands against each other as though it had. Despite what the High Council wanted people to believe, the prosperous peace of Vel Anir was tenuous. To the world the great city was a still lake, but underneath the surface, monsters and creatures of the depths swam. The threads of plots and machinations wove a great tapestry, but it was the Dreadlords and Anirian Guard that made it more than a pretty picture. And tonight, the wind gusting, heralding in a storm, Coriane Siurane would ensure that the thread she was responsible for came true.

She made her way to a townhome made of smooth stone, decorated with iron flowers. She walked up the steps and knocked on the heavy door, forgoing the lever for the bell. A middle-aged man answered the door with a scowl, "There is a bell for a reas--" He cut off as his face went pale in recognition. "Honoured One." He bowed his head. "It is a privilege to have you at my home."

Coriane smiled cruelly and pushed through the door, closing it behind her, not minding it as it slammed shut. "The privilege is all mine." She said, her voice sharp and exacting. "A great privilege." She laughed as magic flooded into her.

 

[Hail Kanada]

"And it is my privilege too," said a figure from a wall, blending in as if cut from the very corner of the room. He wore a long gray robe that looked stony and rough. A bandolier strapped five steel daggers to his chest. But the daggers didn't gleam, bare outlines that almost merged into the robe. A hood masked the man's features, although an unlit pipe jutted out. It trembled as he chewed it.

"The privilege is so great that in our case-" he nodded towards Coriane, back to the homeowner -"I'd wager this is the first time you've ever had two dreadlords in your home at the same time." He shuffled in his wooden chair. It creaked and groaned.

Coriane Siurane