Dealthagar/Ouroborous
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Ouroborous
Dealthagar sat in his great room, looking over the growing pile of missives. With each letter the words grew angrier, and communicated less. Laying the copies of his responses inbetween each, the flow of the conversation was easy to follow. It went nowhere.
It was the way of Oblivion. The path of Entropy. The will of the Great Nothing.
Once again the wills and desires of those who ruled over the dark came into conflict. He was old and jaded and was tired of the games played in the name of reinforcing the "power" they wielded. She was young and arrogant and had a need to know every detail of a plan well before it was all hatched.
It was hard for the younglings to understand the concept of "playing it by ear".
It was one thing for the politics of the Posila‘lasui to rule how they interacted with each other, but to try and apply them to how the Order did business, how he governed himself...was far too much to expect. In an organization that they were the self appointed agents of chaos, they wanted far too much order.
He had begun a number of letters to her, each more angry and arrogant than the first.
"Speak your name before the great book, then speak mine. Tell me who has greater vision?"
"When speaking of presumptions, how dare you presume you need to know my every thought, my every action?"
"I am the Herald of Oblivion, a title given to me by Azalin the Almighty. That alone should be enough for you."
have walked shoulder to shoulder as equals with beings the Order reveres as godlings. Who are you to question my motives?"
In turn each was crumpled and tossed to the floor. Negože batted the papers around, burbling and mewling as he rolled around his master's feet. He tickled the fleshball with a bare toe, and it squealed in delight, immediatly gumming Dealthagars foot in hopes for a taste of food.
He took a deep breath and sighed. Negotiations were always tricky. He had to make certain he did not put himself in a position where she would think he was weak, nor could he make it seem he was over her. She had her needs, he had his. It was time once again to play the part of peacemaker.
"To the Exalted Ariana Lenoir, Dread Lady of Umbra..."
Original Post Date: Sat Dec 12, 2009