![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lawbardCrossposted from G+ - which is where my LARP stuff goes thesedays. Though that means I can use my lovely Loralon avatar...
The sharp crack of heavy boots on marble echoed above the sound of the wind as he walked down the halls of his citadel. Guards snapped to attention and servants bowed fearfully as he passed. He didn’t notice. Lost in thought, he found himself reaching an unpleasant but inescapable conclusion:
Peace is boring.
The War had been his joy. From the very beginning, from the day he heard Her voice in his soul and pledged his life to Her service, he knew what had to be done. Centuries after the Cataclysm the entire continent was still in ruins, filled with bickering factions. He would unite it. Charlatan priests preached the false words of nonexistent gods. He would exterminate them. To the people, lost without faith and suffering without hope, he would bring them the word of the Dark Queen and return the divine miracle of true healing to the world.
He paused at one of the windows. Down on the ground, the city was awakening. The citizens would begin performing their various functions, building or rebuilding the necessary facilities for the city to prosper. It would be needed. This peace would not last forever, and the conquest must be completed.
Below him, he watched a wing of dragonriders and their mounts set out for the morning patrol. It was not the appreciation of discipline that he felt this morning. No, he realized he was envious. He missed Kerritrex. He missed flying with her, soaring over the battlefield and burning the enemy’s soldiers and cities with impunity. He decided that after the meeting he would make the time to visit, and would bring her someone to eat.
He rolled his eyes, and continued down the hall. The meeting! Another interminable meeting. There was always something to coordinate, some pieces to pick up. He was beginning to feel like a bureaucrat. But it would not do to show weakness – not to his underlings, and not to the other Highlords. And so he would be consigned to boredom.
The uniform tread of other boots came from around the next bend. A patrol of guards marched in unison around the corner, saluted in passing and continued on. That was something else he missed. The sounds of the march. The implacable tread of thirty legions, powerful enough to shake the ground like an earthquake simply by moving across it. Their horns shattered the air, and they carried forests of spears bearing bright red banners. From the sky, it had always looked like the earth was bleeding.
Reaching the stairs to transit tower, his adjutant joined the tower guards in their salute before handing him the stack of papers that were this month’s agenda.
“Masssster, there are ssseveral mattersss that require your attensssion on your return…”
He raised a hand, to silence the rest of that happy news. “Great.” he thought, as he climbed up the stairs. His return heralded about as much fun as his departure promised.
Reaching the apex of the tower, he walked past the transit mirror and instead took stopped to look out over the citadel. With a sheaf of papers clenched in one frustrated hand, he reached into his heart to touch the link to his beloved goddess. “My Queen, I pray that I may serve you in a greater way than this…”
Turning back to the transit mirror, he squared his shoulders and stepped through it.
The sharp crack of heavy boots on marble echoed above the sound of the wind as he walked down the halls of his citadel. Guards snapped to attention and servants bowed fearfully as he passed. He didn’t notice. Lost in thought, he found himself reaching an unpleasant but inescapable conclusion:
Peace is boring.
The War had been his joy. From the very beginning, from the day he heard Her voice in his soul and pledged his life to Her service, he knew what had to be done. Centuries after the Cataclysm the entire continent was still in ruins, filled with bickering factions. He would unite it. Charlatan priests preached the false words of nonexistent gods. He would exterminate them. To the people, lost without faith and suffering without hope, he would bring them the word of the Dark Queen and return the divine miracle of true healing to the world.
He paused at one of the windows. Down on the ground, the city was awakening. The citizens would begin performing their various functions, building or rebuilding the necessary facilities for the city to prosper. It would be needed. This peace would not last forever, and the conquest must be completed.
Below him, he watched a wing of dragonriders and their mounts set out for the morning patrol. It was not the appreciation of discipline that he felt this morning. No, he realized he was envious. He missed Kerritrex. He missed flying with her, soaring over the battlefield and burning the enemy’s soldiers and cities with impunity. He decided that after the meeting he would make the time to visit, and would bring her someone to eat.
He rolled his eyes, and continued down the hall. The meeting! Another interminable meeting. There was always something to coordinate, some pieces to pick up. He was beginning to feel like a bureaucrat. But it would not do to show weakness – not to his underlings, and not to the other Highlords. And so he would be consigned to boredom.
The uniform tread of other boots came from around the next bend. A patrol of guards marched in unison around the corner, saluted in passing and continued on. That was something else he missed. The sounds of the march. The implacable tread of thirty legions, powerful enough to shake the ground like an earthquake simply by moving across it. Their horns shattered the air, and they carried forests of spears bearing bright red banners. From the sky, it had always looked like the earth was bleeding.
Reaching the stairs to transit tower, his adjutant joined the tower guards in their salute before handing him the stack of papers that were this month’s agenda.
“Masssster, there are ssseveral mattersss that require your attensssion on your return…”
He raised a hand, to silence the rest of that happy news. “Great.” he thought, as he climbed up the stairs. His return heralded about as much fun as his departure promised.
Reaching the apex of the tower, he walked past the transit mirror and instead took stopped to look out over the citadel. With a sheaf of papers clenched in one frustrated hand, he reached into his heart to touch the link to his beloved goddess. “My Queen, I pray that I may serve you in a greater way than this…”
Turning back to the transit mirror, he squared his shoulders and stepped through it.
![[identity profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 10:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 10:37 pm (UTC)Of course, the part in Zoe's blog isn't neeeaaarly so nice.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 11:04 pm (UTC)As a fellow administrator, though certainly not one stuck with his level of crap, Kumir would certainly feel his pain at all the administrative trivia. Kumir just isn't prone to whine about it, not that he doesn't whine.
no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-08 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 04:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-10 01:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 03:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 02:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-09 03:23 pm (UTC)