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[= Imryrr Armunn =]

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Slamming the door shut behind her, Imryrr walked angrily into her room and yanked off her leather helm, nearly taking several strands of her long, glossy black hair with it. Tossing the helm onto her large desk, she sat down on the edge of her simple bed. The tall woman saw no need for a well opulent bed chamber as she used it rarely. Her only extravagance was the oversized, hand carved desk that dominated most of the small room.

Closing her white on white eyes for a moment's meditation on days past, her annoyance at her father still remained. The meeting in Moonglow had gone awry. Had they seriously treated her father, the Lord Armunn, as a messenger? Were they so far removed from history that they did not recognize his strength? The Moonglowians were thought of as fighters. Aye, perhaps. But warriors? True warriors? Doubtful. She saw no honor in them. Only hypocrisy and youthful arrogance. True, they fought under no king, no emperor, no single leader. They claimed no leader, yet they had many. This..Council.

The meeting with Isk was an eye opening experience for Imryrr. The Magnate's age was quickly catching up on him. This she found most interesting, and possibly very useful in the future. She opened her eyes and let their gaze fall upon the center drawer and smiled coldly. Very useful indeed.
Her father's age, however, had never been in question until he himself questioned it with Isk. Human and into middle age if he had not the daemon about him. But he looked her own age. In his twenties it appeared. Did he even age? He didn't seem to. Even her mother commented on this once when she seemed pleased that in this case, she would not have to worry about being so young for her race while he pruned into an old man.
Certainly she did not believe him to be feeling his age. She suspected it was something else he was feeling, or lacked feeling. Did he not crave the power he once held? All this planning, the chessboard, their discussions..all was for nothing? His attitude showed him to be too relaxed. Too rested. Too....soft. HE who epitomized strength, power, honor and glory above all others.....soft? If this first guess of hers was right then he was a walking disgrace to everything the Dark Order ever stood for. Something would have to be done. But not yet. No, she would not act in haste as she had so many times in the past. She would wait and see. Not long. Her father could not be allowed to bring dishonor upon House Armunn.

Bree. Another thought that ran through her mind. She did not fear her sister's death anymore than Tarothin did, yet her capture was what brought him here was it not? No plans told to her. No discussions. Unlike him. The Atalan held an Armunn and every day that passed was a slap on their honor. Better she die than be allowed to live a captive. He was to see to Bree's release. Where were the battle plans for this? Preparations, flank and covert attacks might be needed in this, and were a few of her specialties in tactics. He would have come to her by now to discuss these at least. What was he planning? Anything? Did he have something up his sleeve or was he ..resting?
Her dark smile did not reflect on her emotionless eyes when she said aloud to herself, I will discover what your plans are, father, or you will be stepping aside to let me finish that which you started. Afterall, old men need their rest.
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= Imryrr Armunn =
| House Armunn |
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Enoch: "now I'm gonna have to make up some lich version of poo"