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[Ardas]

After speaking with officers....

There were few injured soldiers, but Nikephoros felt obliged to visit them. He usually did that with his men, to reassure them and make their efforts rewarded. even as a Marshal, nikephoros felt atached to the mere inantry. Instead of seeing them as throwaway pawns or counters on a map, he knew well that each one of them was a living man with his own feelings and desires. 

A man he was looking to visit was the soldier that came with Tala and Pasha, the member of the destroyed regiment. He left them in the rear to protect the rest of the retreating army. Necessary but sad. It was people like that who could give him at least some picture of what was the situation among the soldiers, apart fro what he was told by the officers.

Directed by a nurse, he approached the red-headed man. He was laying on the bed with his eyes closed, but did not appear to be sleeping.
"Wilheim? May I speak with you?"

[Dwarmin]

Wilheim opened his eyes. Nodded-and even though it hurt-he managed a Ligorian salute from his position. Though it was probably more pathetic than inspiring, he guessed.

"Yes sir, Marshall Nikephoros. Speak your mind. I am quite...alone now. I could use someone to talk to while my body mends.

And, If you have come to request my resignation, I am prepared to tend it, sir."

Wilheim didn't hang his head, but hept his eyes on Nikephoros, merely waiting the prounouncement of his fate.

[Ardas]

"Be at ease soldier. And don't worry, I am not here to fire you."

He sat on a chair that was next to the bed.
"Tell me about how you feel. Mileth, the situation in the country, the whole works. And don't worry about anything, You can be frank with me."

[SeriousConcentrate]

Pasha smiled when she responded with a rather nonsense question. "Of course," he answered warmly. Her hand tightened on his slightly. I guess, even as fatigued as she is, she still has some awareness of the real world. That's good. He patted her hand. "But take it easy on yourself. If you feel tired we can stop so you can rest," he said, playing along with whatever fantasy she was dreaming of.

[Dwarmin]

In the Houses of Healing...

Wilheim nodded. Maybe Nikephoros was here for a different reason, then.

"If I may be frank?

It's all falling apart, everything I've fought for and protected, for so long. My homeland. Yes, I've heard what they are saying, about you, about the Queen. I don't believe any of it...

But if they are talking, it is symptom of something worse...the end of kingdom, if you believed half of what they were saying. People will need answers, they will need someone to blame.

You know, we should have won that battle. We could have won...I cannot wrap my head around how fast things changed for the worse..."

Wilheim manages to weakly pound his fist into his bed side. He recalls Nikephoros telling him to hold the retreat, and he had done so-but there too many foes. His soldiers meager barricades were like sand castles against the ocean. The enemy found cracks, slipped in, overran them. And yet, Wilheim was not a man who knew how to lose. His mind replayed the scene over and over, looking for details he missed, opportunties he missed, last minute strategems that would have changed the outcome...

"We failed you, marshall. No...no. The men fought hard enough. That's wrong.

I failed you. I failed my men. I failed my Kingdom. If the people need someone to blame, let them blame me. I should have held the retreat long enough for us to regroup and attack again. But, I failed, and they fell. That was my duty, and I let you down...and...I ran, at the end. I abandoned them. I should have stayed at my post."

Wilheim finally hangs his head.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the Kingdom of sleep...

..But take it easy on yourself. If you feel tired we can stop so you can rest...

In the dream, Tala had merely spun faster, to keep him from slipping away from her. But...not too tight. Gentle lover...Her grip relaxed at his words. He wouldn't let her fall, not now.

There was a blur of emerald-and gold and ruby and onix and lapis lazuli...so many colors. Amazing...there were some colors they didn't even have names for, not yet. Such as she said, quite out loud..

"Beautiful colors...

Pasha..."

At that, Talas's ramblings quieted, and ceased. She fell into the true, mostly dreamless sleep oft born of exhaustion.

For, there was a battle ahead that she would need strength to fight, a war-in her blood, too small for anyone to see with their eyes alone.

Her breathing was steady.

[SeriousConcentrate]

"Beautiful colors... Pasha..." Tala murmured in her sleep. "Sshhh... it's all right, love. I'm here." He reached to the side of the bed and got out a clean linen strip, then gently wiped her face with it. Her breathing was deep and steady now; she had truly fallen asleep. All that rain can't have been good for her... but she's strong. She'll recover. As for himself, he went to the door and collared a passing servant, ordering a set of clean clothes brought up to the room. His own were still rather damp and uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to leave her side to get new ones.

When the servant returned he changed into the dry set and laid the damp ones near the fireplace to dry out. Heat's supposed to be good for illness, I always heard. Sweating clears it out. It was getting on into summer, as far as he knew, but with all the rainfall it was still a bit chilly out even during the day. He built up the fire a little more for Tala's sake, then returned to his place at her side. I wonder what the others are doing right now. He hadn't spoken to Nikephoros or Laythe since that night awhile back, and he had never actually met Kathos in person... or the regent Laythe had left while they were out. What was his name, anyway? Pasha couldn't remember. He'd only heard it once, and that was in passing.

I wonder if she has any story books around. If she's too weak to get up when she wakes I could always read to her. He briefly considered asking a servant about it, but then changed his mind. He could always ask her himself when she woke up. For now, he needed some sleep himself, and he checked the clothes he had taken off earlier. His cloak was dry enough, so he wrapped it around himself like a blanket and tried to catch a nap in the chair - he didn't want to leave in case she woke up. She might think he had taken off again and he didn't want to cause her unnecessary stress.

[Iituem]

Enlisted soldier Juan Tomas sat down at the table with a mug of stout and breathed.  Finally, a break.  After the war, the marching, and double time guarding the Queen since her return, any of Her Majesty's bodyguard were lucky to get time off to sleep, let alone unwind.  Juan unbuttoned his jacket (his old soldier's jacket, not palace uniform), hunched over slightly and sipped his mug, bleary eyed.  The world was fuzzy, but with time it came back into focus.

The atmosphere at home had been tense ever since the army's return.  News about the war had spread, much of it ill, and the loss of authority by the Queen had made his job that much harder as well.  Now word had come down from the Marshal that a good portion of the army were not going to stand down, but were being deployed to stamp out 'seditious activity'.  The country was exhausted from war and it showed up here, in the homes and the taverns.

Juan spotted some tradesmen playing cards at another table.  He checked his pouch; a handful of coins.  Well, what was he going to spend it on anyway?

Juan engages in a spot of gambling and keeps an ear to the ground.  He attempts to get an idea of the city's mood.

[vagel7]

Franz smiled as Hugo finished.

"You might be an artist, but I must say that you do a brilliant job in running this here facility."

With that Franz left to speak with a Bloody Fist about where he might find some human DN officers, those who had a distaste for Hatcuri DN. He was lucky as a sleazy BF who adressed himself as John knew exactly the place, a no-name tavern outside anybodies interests. He agreed to take him there and show him the officers.

The tavern was located in the ghetto and seemed very run-down, this is definitely outside anybodies interests. John told him to wait outside for five minutes and then come in. John will be sitting in the corner to the right and smoking a long pipe, he will direct to the table that the officers were sitting at.

Five minutes later Franz entered and he was hit by the strong fumes of alcohol and tobacco, very cheap tobacco too. Some big guys were harassing a wench in a corner and a folk tune was being played, nobody seemed to pay attention to the guys harassing the wench. Like John said, he was sitting in the right-hand corner and smoking a long pipe. He was directing at a table inhabited by some men looking like traders and another man in a soldier's jacket. They looked like they were playing some cards and Franz had brought some money so naturally he decided to join in.

Join in on the game and get a good mood going, midway mention that as they are traders, they should know about the rumours going around the city that the majority of Hatcuri in some gang called The Double Noughts want to take over control of the gang and the city. Also find out who the guy in the soldier's jacket is. Let the BF subtly spread rumours that the majority of Hatcuri members in the Double Noughts clan plan a coup.

[Shootandrun]

"Goodbye, Marshal. Be careful."

¤ A few hours later... ¤

"Right, send some messengers to the nobles, I want to meet with them at the end of the week, schedlue an audience with the lower level commanders and Marshal Vandire before then, and earlier than that summon Kathos for a private chat. Get the spys out into the city, get them to see what those rebels want.I don't want any incidents on the level that Mileth was. Understood? And if the crowds get too restless, organize a lockdown of the Palace"

Kathos entered the palace after leaving his weapons outside, and he quickly reached the throne room. He was no longer in a bad mood, and he bowed deeply when he saw the Queen.

"You wanted to talk to me, Your Highness?"

[Taricus]

"Yes, quite a few important things as well. I have a feeling that this is best done in private though, wouldn't you agree?" Laythe's hand gestured towards the door leading to the parlour...

[Shootandrun]

"Oh, I see."

Kathos entered the parlour and he turned towards the queen once she was inside.

"What did you want to talk about, Your Grace?"

[Taricus]

Once Laythe was in the parlour, she sat down on her usual seat. Once she sat down, she restered her head on one of her hands.

"It's about the entire Mileth incident. I screwed up badly, then things spiralled downwards from there. And all of that because because I wanted to play out a childhood fantasy..." Laythe sighed once again, the tone of her voice starting to get more depressive.

"You ever wonder why I killed my family? Why I took the throne?"

[Dwarmin]

...For now, he needed some sleep himself, and he checked the clothes he had taken off earlier. His cloak was dry enough, so he wrapped it around himself like a blanket and tried to catch a nap in the chair...

The crackling fire and Talas steady breathing helped lull Pasha into his own sleep. His own neglected exhaustion caught up with him...and he dropped into the Kingdom of Nod

Nod, the King of Dreams, was perhaps angry at having been denied before. He was out for revenge...

Pasha dream starts in a familiar iron chair-his wrists are shackled. There is a moment of pure, utter panic.

He's back.

Back in Marlax's Dungeons.

Angband-his most enthusiastic torturer, no doubt about it-is all dour today, as he leans into Pashas field of view. His face is a mass of scar tissue-and the blackened hollow where his left eye used to be, a present from Marlax for speaking out of turn it was said, is prominent as a gaping abyss.

"Did you have a nice nap, Atrineas? You were mumbling something about a girl-a red head again? Where do you think you are, anyway? Do you see any girls here?

This is your reality. Perhaps I will make sure you do not sleep so easy from now on."

Angband doesn't chuckle, or even wait for a response. He merely goes for his favorite cutter. It will create a shallow wound, easy to bind if the victim seems to have lost too much blood...but very painful in its application.

"Your father has asked me if you are ready to ask for his forgiveness. Are you? I mean, even if you are, I might just lie to keep you here. So, what do you say, Atrineas? You were so strong your first day here. Now...not so much...

Admit I've broken you...and you can go free. Relatively speaking. Your father misses your services. He very much would like to see you begin them again. Just...tell me what I want to hear. Tell me."

Angband changes tacks-he was always good at keeping Pasha off balance.

"Say it, and join us for dinner tonight-we're having fresh basted pork, sweet red wine, buttered corn and sweet greens. Like your Mother used to make. Much better than the bug infested stew they'll give you in here.

And a nice warm bed by the hearth. Clean, soft sheets-freshly laundered.

And Lord Marlax has assured me you will have your pick of women from his harem for your pleasure...tempting, no? For, the captive women of the last raid are exceedingly...sweet. And pliable. Broken in, I might say.

I could reccommend several to you. Especially the red headed one."

Something is wrong-other than everything that is happening, I mean. Pasha does not remember them talking about a woman of with red hair, drawing similiarites to Tala...he was wise enough to keep her identity hidden from them...but...

Angband does not smile. He merely keeps talking. He will go on like this for hours-interrupting with the occasional cut-until Pasha says something, anything. If it's not something he wants to hear, the torture begins in earnest.

The blade dances in his hands, catching the light from the candle flame and winking mockingly. He keeps his tools in very good shape.

He speaks in a quiet, mocking tone.

"Atrineas, Atrineas...have you made a decision yet? Lord Marlax kills a dozen of his servants every day you defy him. Those deaths, we both know, are on your head. Let's be honest. The Lord is mad. Insane. We can only but do our best to please him, to minimize his anger...until the day we can get justice.

Look at me-I do these horrible things, because I have to. One day he will pay, but until then I must bide my time. I am willing to sacrifice my morals, to get one step closer to him.

So, why are you being so selfish? You have done worse than I, and he trusts you more...so, do what he says...and maybe you can get your revenge one day?  That's a good plan...a great plan. Better than dying here alone, in the dark...so, what do you say?"

Anbands mocking tone cuts worse than the knives. It's all a sham, he knows.

Pasha knows he has to say something-anything. Just to get the torment started, get it over with. Then it all starts again tomorrow.

What does he say?

[Shootandrun]

Ah. The queen was depressed. This conversation could be interesting.

"I always thought it was because the previous system was corrupted, Your Highness. Some of the laws that were written in the time of the previous ruler are... Barbaric, to say the least. Was there another reason?"

[Taricus]

"Something far simpler than that." With her free hand, she took out a plain, unardorned dagger and placed it on the table. The rusted, bloodstained dagger was revealed to Kathos' eyes.

"Revenge. Not some far sighted coup or a planned takeover, just one woman's hatred for letting a Marlax take her away, and doing just about nothing when I was nearly violated by another of that accursed family..." Laythe took a deep breath, then downed some wine from her goblet to keep the memories from flooding back.

"Then then a year passed, I grew more accustomed with the potential of being a major power within a nation. Power without resposibility  being taught however leads to bad things..."