by Brady Rutgarr

Created on: April 28, 2009

Coma - The Cataclysm

Dargoth stared out the window at the forest below, his shoulder length gray hair wafting slightly on the gentle breeze, his form one of practiced elegance. From the height of the chamber one could see far beyond the reach of the outer walls of Delwathe; the perfect roost for hatching well made plans and assessing incoming threats to the kingdom. The room itself was in perfect order; the carefully lined quills on the desktop, the ornate tapestries and slightly faded maps of outlying territories adorning the walls, all a reflection of the Minister of Arms and his desire for controlled order.

Breaking the silence, he spoke, not bothering to face the man standing behind him across the large mahogany desk. "They call you Dirk, yes?"

The man nodded automatically before realizing an audible response would be required. "Some do, Sah. Dirk Longfellow at yer service." He said in a thick lower city drawl.

"And your given name?" Dargoth asked.

"Delvan Elgani, Sir." The man answered, dropping the accent and standing a touch straighter.

"Delvan Elgani" The minister repeated, curling bits of gray beard between his fingers. "Yes, I knew your father. Let's hope history does not repeat itself this time around, shall we?" He turned, eyebrows raised, looking at the man for the first time. His narrow eyes scanned across his features, analyzing, assessing any sign of weakness. The man remained still except for the briefest look of hatred that flashed in his eyes, a detail some might have missed but one that would never have gotten past the minister.

He smiled and stepped away from the window, now giving Delvan his full attention. "Your father was a great man. He served the kingdom of Delwathe
very faithfully until the end. But mistakes were made, weren't they?"

Delvan remained silent.

"Lady Allusia, the last nether of Delwathe was your father's charge. His orders were simple enough, find the nether and escort her safely back to the kingdom, no stops, no detours. He failed these orders. By no means should Lady Allusia have reached the oracle before arriving in Delwathe." The minister paused and unclenched his tightened fist as he walked to a cupboard and retrieved an old bottle of wine, blowing the dust off the aged cork.

"Do you recognize the bottle?" he asked. Delvan said nothing but his face gave the answer the minister had expected.

"Yes, I thought you might." Dargoth smiled, taking pleasure in his game. "Elgani's finest, a wine like no other, but this bottle in particular

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