09-25-2015, 08:57 AM
no matter what they say, I am still the king
It seemed that all of Beqanna lately was making diplomatic visits. It was necessary, when the thrones were shifting so much; alliances were hanging in the balance – opportunities waiting to be plucked like ripe berries from the vine. There was a static buzz in the air, a collective intake of breath from Beqanna – the knowledge that something was about to happen. In truth, things were already happening – the recent raid on the Gates was winding down, but perhaps that was just making way for something more.
Eight felt the presence of the iron queen as she touched the border of the Amazons. With that slight thrum of your being, your thoughts also drifted to dear Eight, and he had to internally grimace, just slightly. He was not strange to the fact that he didn’t make friends quite so easily. He remembered that vague calling to you – so long ago, in such a delicate time – and how he had failed to follow up on it.
Perhaps it was just a sick joke, one that he did not intend to play. Truly, really, he had intentions of toppling the throne upon Scorch and placing the vines upon your head. But in reality, Eight himself was hardly a ruler, he hardly had intentions or desire to stay upon his own throne, and he fell short on everything else as well.
None the less, he smiles politely as you arrive, and dips his head in greeting again. “Lagertha – congratulations to you as well. Atop the vined throne, where you belong.” Eight beings to walk forward with the group, a suggestion of a tour - “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to show us around?” If alliances were to be made, it was always best in knowing what could be brought to the table. “
Eight felt the presence of the iron queen as she touched the border of the Amazons. With that slight thrum of your being, your thoughts also drifted to dear Eight, and he had to internally grimace, just slightly. He was not strange to the fact that he didn’t make friends quite so easily. He remembered that vague calling to you – so long ago, in such a delicate time – and how he had failed to follow up on it.
Perhaps it was just a sick joke, one that he did not intend to play. Truly, really, he had intentions of toppling the throne upon Scorch and placing the vines upon your head. But in reality, Eight himself was hardly a ruler, he hardly had intentions or desire to stay upon his own throne, and he fell short on everything else as well.
None the less, he smiles politely as you arrive, and dips his head in greeting again. “Lagertha – congratulations to you as well. Atop the vined throne, where you belong.” Eight beings to walk forward with the group, a suggestion of a tour - “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to show us around?” If alliances were to be made, it was always best in knowing what could be brought to the table. “
∞
and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in