An Audience With Egotism, Pt. 2

Inside my cabin I could share my true feelings with my Lady-in-Waiting about what had just taken place.
“Meredith, I truly wonder if going to war is as stressing as that meeting was.” I said, lowering myself to the divan.

“I pity you, Milady, having to face him like you did. But despite that, you handled it to perfection, in my opinion.” My Lady-In-Waiting poured a cup of Jomacha and delivered it to my hands.
“There is one thing I am curious about. You indicated that he knew your ancestor Cedric, but how could that be possible? That would make him at least-”

“Three thousand years old? He was actually born in the first age,  and precisely three thousand, five hundred and seventy-three years old.”

Meredith's eyes widened. “But he looks only to be about thirty years of age! I would never have thought him that old!”

I told her only what I had been told which was that he was a Langilike Vez-Dûn, a race of Vez-Dûn that was blessed with long life. There were only a few that existed of this race, and he was the most prominent.

“Yes, he does look young, and he is handsome too.” I admitted. “But Meredith, what is your thoughts?”

“Do you wish to know my opinion, or what I see?”
“I consider them one and the same. Speak freely to me.”
Meredith had proven her unique gift of insight and intuition of the real nature of people many a time at the court of Krespania, and I trusted her judgment.

“Simply put, he is egotistical and entirely selfish. I do not think anything I see will amount to anything others cannot see. His self-consuming is obvious.” She paused for a moment as if to think.
“I credit him with this: he is completely honest. What he says carries no deceit. But he has little fear of anyone being more intelligent or more superior, and subsequently, he has no faith in his fellow man.
“I must admit his character and peculiarities leave me wondering as to what has occurred in his life to result in such a merciless and proud nature. Has the power he has born these many years made him thus? I cannot help but wonder.”

“Well, it has not helped him any that there have been several assassination attempts upon his life. And I could probably say he has not any faith in man because he has lived through so many generations where all have proven their wickedness; He no doubt feels it would be in vain to do so.” I said, then added with a smile. “Not that he is any saint himself.”

I sipped from my Jomacha. “Though there is a mysterious in him, that I find intriguing, despite his intimidation. And something else to be admired...but I am not quite sure of what it is. Perhaps it is the authority in which he speaks and moves with, or his stalwart discipline. Hhmm, I doubt we shall meet again, since invitations to Isoloyia are very rare, so I shall probably never know.”

And that was the end of the discussion of King Hyndralad de Gundalia.
Once all of my armada had sufficient resources we set sail, where we are today: heading to Unoomad to face the trials reserved for us there.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

An Audience With Egotism, Pt. 1

At last, Isoloyia!

I could never find a more welcoming sight at that moment than it's tall towers of white stone gleaming in the sun, as pure and noble as a brilliant star.

Embedded high upon the mountainside, overlooking the city stretched out beneath it, stood the royal Vez-Dûn citadel and home of King Hyndralad de Gundalia.
As with all his structures, they represented his rule and character: cold, magnificent, dominating yet admirable and glorious.

That is according to the reports that have been told to me.
And only now have I had the chance to confirm or deny those rumors.
Though it mattered little to me, as long as I received my supplies.

When we put into port the steeds were unloaded and my company (which consisted of Meredith, my captain, two generals, four soldiers and my bodyguards) and I rode to the citadel, where we were escorted by the guards in their disciplined protocol through the wide halls to the throne room.

The interior boasted of opulence and grandeur though not ostentatiously; the architecture and décor was  set in such a way that it appeared clean, economical and without extravagance. It was as if there was not a pretension to impress any one, but that this majesty came simply and effortlessly.
The throne room was the same: the marble shone almost as bright as the snow in the winter sun, and great pillars rose to the tall ceiling on either side.
A crimson carpet lead the way through the center of the chamber and up the stairs to the raised dais at the end of the hall.

Even I, in my finest Krespanian gown and royal apparel, felt small and inadequate in such a place.
But this was nothing compared to what I was about to face.

A lone, slender figure sat on the throne that was drawn out in an island in front of the dais and directly above the stairs that descended from it.
And somehow just seeing his rigid posture as straight as the back of his marble throne sent trembles through me.
It was all I could do to keep my walk steady and graceful, as we approached, for in that instant I knew the rumors to be true that told of him as being stern and unfriendly.

We halted some distance before the nine foot dais, and bowed in homage to the Vez-Dûn king of Isoloyia.

The light through the deep sapphire pane of the three large windows behind the throne reflected against the silver hair of King Hyndralad, and sent colorful designs playing across the floor by our feet.

I hoped my voice would not betray me.
“Greetings, I am Queen Emerald de Gavrillac of Krespania, your humble servant.”
He looked down at us without lowering his head and said, “As I, King Hyndralad de Gundalia, greet you.” with a deep and commanding voice that lingered in the wide hall.
“I presume you have come to collect your supplies from us.”
“If it pleases Your Majesty.”
The corner of his lips turned slightly in a wry smile. “And why should it please me?”

This took me aback, and I was at a loss for words. “I-I... apologize if it is an inconvenience to Your Majesty. It is only I am in desperation; my ships have been depleted of all food and ammunition. We cannot possibly assist my brother, the Emperor, against Palkaan with what we have. If there were any other way...”
Hyndralad was silent for a moment then rose slowly from his throne and circling around it, descended the stairs of the dais.

I did not realize how tall he really was until he drew near; he stood two heads taller than I, which I would calculate to be about six foot and seven inches.
He studied me with his autumn-golden eyes, as if I were transparent and he could read every detail of my life.

I had never had the trouble of feeling inferior, being in power as I am, except for this moment; I felt as if I were only a peasant under his overpowering gaze, nothing more than dirt on the floor.

He made me feel as though I did not belong there; As like a slave, I should cower before his magnificence.

I so feared those penetrating eyes that I begun to drop my own to the floor, but then halted.
Why should I cringe before him? He is no more superior, that I should lower my eyes in shame.
And what about my soldiers who are starving inside their wooden prisons?
I must be strong for their sake.
I raised my head and boldly met his gaze.
I would not be intimidated.

He drew back slightly, and lifted his chin higher.
“My countries resources will be exhausted if I supply your needs. I am sorry, but I cannot help!” He said sharply.
“If you will not help for the good of others, then do it for my ancestor Cedric's sake!” I quickly retorted.

My anger replaced the fear inside of me, and the words spilled from my lips.
“Have you so easily forgotten your friendship with him? The only human in whom you put your trust?”

“Cedric,” He said, thoughtfully. “I knew not that his descendants still remained on the throne.”

“Only my brother, Lennox, who governs Agmar, and I, over Krespania, exist at present.” I said, and continued. “There is also my uncle who-”

King Hyndralad waved his hand for silence.
"Yes... I can recognize a little of Cedric within you. Wyles."
A servant emerged from the shadows. “Supply the Krespanian armada with all that they request.”

I bowed deeply, relieved that he did not continue to resist.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. My kingdom shall endeavor to repay you for your assistance.”

“It is not necessary. If I state a need for something in the future, perhaps...but for now we shall leave it as a gift for Cedric's descendants.” He said, then withdrew the same way he came, as if a sign the conversation was over.

My party bowed our leave, and only when I was back aboard The Golden Dawn and safely within my cabin did I breath a sigh of relief.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

Outwitted and Undermined

We are racing on the wings of the wind, and propelled by the vigor of the sea, across the Arctos Ocean to Unoomad.

With the wind as our ally we will be at our destination within five or so weeks.

Meanwhile my brother is scouting throughout the land to ascertain how far Palkaan's forces have reached.

I have not wrote in a few weeks, and perhaps you do not know what is happening.

I will start from the beginning.

We have realized we have underestimated Palkaan.

Unbeknown to us, his troops encamped at Aldrake was only a fraction of his whole force.

And he has used that to cover up his real operation, which was a quick invasion of the western continent starting from Erelli-Lion through Cressenar, and now up into Unoomad.

But knowing Palkaan he will not be satisfied with only these; he will continue forward to Agmar and Asram, and only stop when he has the whole world in submission to his menacing control.

Lennox immediately set sail with his troops to Palkaan's next destination and there will deploy his troops to meet him head-on.

It took my armada and I a little longer to leave as we had to wait for the army of Pasarz to replace us in Aldrake.

But once they arrived we did not need any extra time to depart.

Now we are sailing; hundreds of ships dotting the aqua blue sea, their white sails enlarged in the wind and cutting a sharp path through the waves.

Though this journey is not going to be as enjoyable as the first, I can already predict.

Our supplies are being exhausted and there is not room for luxury in such a situation.

Food and water are being rationed, our gunpowder and ammunition is running thin, and if we cannot gain more we will be in a dire predicament.

I do not have to state how terrible starvation is, or an outbreak of scurvy when there is no vegetables to be had.

And we will be at the mercy of the enemy if we come upon any of Palkaan's forces in this condition.

But it is a risk we have to take before we can arrive at Isoloyia, where hopefully we will receive supplies and be ready for action again.

At least that is what Lennox says, and I earnestly hope he is correct.

Isoloyia is an island some distance from the continent Unoomad is located on, and is not known for their friendly spirit.

The inhabitants of the island, Vez-Dûnes, are a race similar to ours but with their heights averaging a foot taller than most men.

There is not many Vez-Dûn colonies, and as a result I have not been acquainted much with them, but I have heard that they prefer to live isolated lives away from others, with Isoloyia being the extreme.

Isoloyia is so withdrawn and heavily guarded that they will not allow any visitors as consequence of a previous assassination attempt upon the Isoloyian ruler.

I do not know how Lennox managed to reserve an order of supplies from them, but it matters little as long as we receive it.

Once that happens a heavy burden will be lifted from my shoulders.

Of course it will again be replaced by something else, but I will not worry until that time arrives.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

The Tyrant Within Me

It is raining.

From inside my cabin aboard The Golden Dawn I can hear the downpour splattering the surface of the sea with vicious force, and I can hear the thunder rumbling overhead.

Out from my window and across a few miles of sea lay the city of Aldrake rising high upon the hill with it's towering walls.

It is ironic that despite the severe decimation it remains glistening and shining beautifully in the rain.

Southward and obscured by the density of the storm, the armies of Palkaan are steadfastly at work without a thought to the weather and as testimony to their master's determination.

In some moments I can hear the whistle of their catapults and the explosion as it meets the city, but they are only faint and only serve to aggravate me with my lack of vision.

But then, it is difficult for everything not to annoy me.

Each day is becoming more tiresome and dull, as I am locked inside this prison of wooden beams and sails.

And I am growing ill-tempered and claustrophobic because of it.

I am not really imprisoned, because if need be we could sail to another location.

But for the moment it is not needed.

The other ships in my armada are carefully circling the island on all sides, and those who are nearest are engaging upon the enemy.

But we are stationed just some distance from the port of Aldrake, issuing orders when my brother decides on a new approach or plan, and simply waiting.

I have begun to feel trapped in my own vessel, with little to do, and yearn to set my feet on dry land again.

Not just dry land, but to be able to wander through the peaceful fields and valleys of Krespania, or ride horseback across the hills.

But a ship is only so long and exercise is not to be had on board.

Therefore I must cope with my desires with not a sign of relief in the future.

Which produces a tyrant within me to be sure.

As for Lennox, he is plenty exercised; he is on the contrary, hardly still.

He met with the sultan of Aldrake and discussed his plans, then moved his troops alongside the outer city wall where he is upholding the breach Palkaan's troops have made.

The news I have received concerning it, have described it as a grotesque and violent skirmish, as Lennox seeks to take hold.

And I cannot help cringing at the thought of the danger he might be under over there, which only amplifies my discontent of remaining where I am.

Though my armada is a strong support for him, I still feel like I should be alongside him fighting, or doing something to help other than staying in my cabin!

But as the head commander, my brother knows where best we can assist him, and I must be satisfied with that.

I must be a pitiful creature in your eyes.

Always wanting to do so much more then I can manage.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

Queen of Krespania