Under the Thumb of a Tyrant (Valanaer x Swagbeast)

[Sarah]

Cain took a step out of his tent and into the chill morning, looking out at all the soldiers occupying the armies main camp, a fortified ruin on the edge of enemy territory. He had been fighting by these men for a some time, as an officer he knew the inner workings of the army and it had revealed a lot. At first he had been brought in from the main military forces to be one of the leaders of the new religious army and it had seemed like a worthy cause. It was only as time went on that he realized just how wrong he had been, how ridiculous the battles he now took part in were. To start they were not fighting another force, they were fighting pockets of resistance, people trying not to be slaughtered because of their religious beliefs. The people they killed were nothing but civilians, sure some were trained soldiers and there were a few provinces that held out against them but for the most part they were ordered to kill people who didn't belong in fights.

That wasn't the worse of it. Cain had fought against peasants before, put down misguided resistances, but what he hadn't done was served under a tyrant and alongside trash. That was what it had eventually come to as the military campaign went on and as the tyrant leader of theirs came down upon the people who opposed her even harder, as it seemed the more they resisted the harsher she became. She even began assigning the officer positions to criminals, men who got results but used dishonorable tactics and had no respect . He had witnessed fellow officers rape women from the rebel villages, taking them by force and looting everything of value before burning a town to the ground. He had tried to put it out of his mind and do his job but he couldn't do it anymore and he had been up all night pondering what course of action to take, and he had come to the conclusion that he had to take action. He had decided to talk to their esteemed leader, sure it wasn't his place but if he could bring this to her attention it was worth it.

Cain was a member of the Stark family, an old house that had quite a bit of power once upon a time, and a family that still held aristocratic status. He had decided to join the military young and although he was only 28, he had achieved the rank of officer and proven himself an able combatant many times over, not to mention him being a man that few could match with a sword. With a natural charisma he was a respected commander, even veteran soldiers following him into battle and usually he could sway people. He hoped it would be enough this time, that he would be able to convince their leader to straighten out her forces, that or he would have to consider alternate methods of ridding the army of the scum that had taken officer positions. He had made up his mind though and he had waited long enough for her to be up before leaving his tent, so when he did he didn't stand around long and instead turned and began walking through the camp.

It didn't take long for him to reach the old Cathedral, now fortified as the main base for their forces. A few guards were standing post outside the huge wooden doors, and Cain had to explain his reason for coming before they let him inside, even at his status they were careful, no doubt because she had made many enemies, even among the troops. Inside was no less protected, more guards in the main area inside, the downstairs containing her personal guard. The staircase was especially well guarded, as the leader was the only one who stayed on the upper level where she had set up a quite luxurious personal area for herself, much more grand than the tents used by soldiers and officers. He didn't go up the stairs, instead he made it to the bottom of the stairs and stopped, the guards not letting him go any further and forcing him to wait for her to come to him, no doubt ordered not to let any unworthy one up to see the woman.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  After the cathedral was abandoned some decades ago, nature had come to reclaim what was rightfully hers. The great, fearsome steeple became festooned in moss and lichen; its walls besmirched with rot and worms. Aside from its eerie shadow, the cathedral appeared no less fearsome than the sacellums in the north. That was, however, until Que'coti Qhaz Ammon and her followers chose to fortify it. They came from the undergrowth in legions of zealots and acolytes with Ammon's mercenaries flanking the rear and pirates toting cargo from their galleys. Half were too exhausted beyond measure and, at their behest, Ammon allowed them rest. Their eyes brightened when they saw the cathedral in all of its Gothic glory. Having been enfeebled from battle Ammon and her generals chose to make this cathedral their fortress.
  
  Steady moans sighed through sanctuary's walls like a dirge heralding death. Their most recent skirmish crippled a fraction of her forces. After some days making an attempt to heal them with her own hands, Ammon finally chose rest. Half were asleep having been put under by heavy doses of poppy tears while others laid awake in agony. Eventually Ammon retired to her quarters where a third of her generals lied in wait. Edmure was among the largest, broad of shoulder with bandy legs wan eyes. Although he appeared gruff his mien was quite the opposite. "Those we fought, they were not the men who oppressed your people," he stated. York, Ammon's head ranger, stood in his usual smugness with thumbs hooked through his belt. "But followers nonetheless," he said in reply to Edmure, "Aside from that, they've been squandering their resources preaching word of their god. The Red God, they called him." York shrugged. "Where was their Red God when I loosed a quarrel in his high septon's head? Some god to have protected prophet."
  
  "You overreach, as usual," Edmure growled, "We're wasting precious time and men defeating arrant priests. The high prophet Hespith is who we are in pursuit of. I deign not care of the Red God or the Drowned God, or the seven faced god of Oyour. Ammon has shown us that there are no gods, only destiny." Ammon freed Edmure from captivity - he was a beast of a man sentenced to die in the fighting pits until she told him that a man should embrace destiny, not flee or fight it, for embracing it made it as malleable as loam if he chose it to be so. Thus, he chose it was his fate not to die. After being enlightened by her claim he swore to follow her; that freeing others' minds as she had would be his destiny. York's anecdote was far less compelling but reason enough to join Ammon's cause.
  
  When Ammon staggered into her chamber, both York and Edmure gawked. Her belly had a ravine sunk into it from a serrated blade that bit her during battle. It wept despite having been sewn, merriting looks of worry from her generals. "Ammon," York gasped. His face was as pale as milk. Edmure appeared more angry than frightened. "Leave me, if you would," she rasped. Though her voice was thick with affliction it was as melodic and sonorous as the vagrant fabulists who'd been weaving tales since they could talk. They both nodded choppy nods and beelined for the stairwell with York's intimidating black mastiff hobbling behind. When her quarters were silent she stood back to the door, gently unravelling the roughspun linens that suppressed her breasts.
  
  They bounced free, each full and supple. She cupped her right breast and lifted, grimacing at the fissure that left her skin frayed and ugly. The mirror before her was a gift, albeit a queer one. She touched the tumid flesh and winced in response. Just as she began slathering an unguent over the laceration one of her guards came barrelling up the stairs. "Ammon," he panted, "Cain requests an audience." There was an almost awkward lapse of silence when she finally replied. "His request has been granted. Let him pass."

 

[Sarah]

Cain couldn't help but observe the Cathedral as he waited, the place massive and quite powerful even in its current state. It provided their army with protection nearly equal to that of a castle keep, enough that if an attack was ever launched at them that it would serve as the perfect fall back point. That wasn't a problem though, the armies they fought were not large enough to push them back and it was doubtful anyone would ever attack them anyways, the defensive capabilities of the ruins made it a foolish to even try. As much as it was intimidating and powerful, it was also beautiful in a way, the design elegant and every detail done by a master craftsman, surely it would still stand for a long time to come, even with all the moss and vines covering its exterior. A part of him wished he could come and properly view the place without a large army occupying it, but for now he had others tasks to worry about, tasks which he knew would bring trouble upon him in some way or another.

His attention truly shifted when two of Ammon's generals came down the stairwell, York and Edmure, two of the men he disliked most among the officers, one being nothing more than a savage and the other knowing nothing of honor or true leadership. He of course said nothing as they passed, not even offering them a look or respectful nod, believing them not to be worthy of respect as leaders. Perhaps they would make good soldiers, strong combatants as they were, but without someone keeping them in line they were not men who could be trusted. Just seeing the two reminded Cain why he was coming to speak with Ammon and allowed him some confidence in the truth behind what he had to say to her. He was still a bit worried about the response from Ammon, as she did seem quite sure about her choices, but it needed to be said and he wasn't about to back down.

So when one of the guards descended the stairs and informed him that Ammon had granted him an audience he wasted no time in heading up the stairs. He stopped before the door leading into her chambers, gathering himself before walking in. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his short brown hair and figuring out what to say once he entered her chambers. He gathered himself up as best her could before walking through the door and into her chambers. Ammon was inside and she was as beautiful as ever and it caused Cain to take pause, especially when he caught sight of the wound which she must have suffered in the previous battle.

The sight did not stop him, he stepped forward and stood up straight, "Thank you for granting me an audience Ammon, I realize that this is not exactly the best time for me to come speak to you but there is something I believe needs to be said." His voice was strong and full of confidence even as he stood before her, and he didn't wait for permission to speak further as he believed that he would be denied if she knew what he was going to say. Instead he decided to jump right in, "A majority of the men that serve as your officers seem to take advantage of their station and act as criminals. In fact I have seen them raping women and looting the villages, even allowing their men to do the same. Even now in the camp there are several of your higher ups with young women chained up in their tents and others who have stashes of valuables pillaged from villages. It may not be my place but it is my responsibility as an officer to bring this to your attention and ask that something be done about it."

When his small speech was done he just stood there, his emerald green eyes unwavering as he looked directly at her. While he was not nearly as intimidating as many of her criminal generals, Cain had his own air of strength, one that could be seen as he stood near her, standing up straight and proud even in the presence of Ammon, a woman many feared and many more seemed to almost worship. He was not the largest man but he was taller than average and had the body of a seasoned soldier, no behemoth like Edmure but not small either. The man just hoped his words were enough to sway Ammon, to make her consider replacing her current generals with men of honor who could get the job done for her without being so tyrannical.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  Cain's presence brought with it an eerie tension. It was suffocating, so much so that she nearly felt a pair of ethereal fingers choking her throat. Though he was the embodiment of confidence, Ammon felt as she usually had: indifferent. Her roguish features were always wan and her facade had less color than stone despite her bronzed complexion and its exotic elements. "Taken 'advantage'?" She took a pause, practically chewing on the word. It momentarily resonated, apparent by her contemptuous mien. Before refastening her bandeau, Ammon took one last look at herself in her mirror. She was a curvaceous woman if ever one lived with wide hips and long, powerful legs that carried her nubility with the strength of a stallion. Each of her knuckles were branded with alien markings, her palms as well, and similar markings were sewn into her forearms and spine. Even her mane was intimidating - a matted, starless mess, thick and wild and as unruly as a lion's.
  
  Eventually she shrugged into her robe - an oversized raiment with scalloped sleeves that were four sizes too large for her - and began unfastening her belt. The cool air sighing in through the glass panes overhead balmed her wound after she unwraveled her cummerbund and laid it in a heap with her heavier armour. "As humans, we are wired to overreach. It has been our maxim since we first learned to walk." She plucked an ornate decanter of hipporcras from her desk and poured a glass full to the brim. The scent of cinammon bloomed pleasantly in her nostrils, quickening on her tongue as she took a far from prudent drawl. "But I appreciate your concern and it does not go unnoticed."
  
  As any polite host Ammon poured Cain a glass of hippocras and offered it to him. She realized it was a queer taste in wine but it would facilitate in sleep and help keep her mind clear of unwanted anomalies. "Those with captives in their possession will be dealt with accordingly, that I can promise," she reassured. Ammon had been a slave for a hefty portion of her life, those who supported the slave trade had a special hatred in her heart. "But spoils, those cannot be returned. It's impossible to fund a cause based on preaching and doomsaying alone." She licked her lips, absentmindedly flicking the bead of obsidian below her bottom lip. The taste of the hippocras pacified her tastebuds but hadn't quite done the same with her ire.
  
  "You want me to replace them. Replace them with ... men of honor and dignity, am I right?" Her demonic hazel eyes flickered with transgression. "Honor is a perverted thing, general Cain. I do not live by a code. Nor do I expect me men to. I ask only that they believe in my cause and adhere to my behests. Of course, I dislike their representation of my name - thus I am equipped to deal swift justice - but if I wished to hire an honorable man I would have hired a fool dressed in motley and have him parade about singing derisory shanties." She paused and eyed her general with the utmost discretion and took another sip of her wine. "We are a largely passive order, but as of late those frowning upon my cause have grown increasingly hostile. Do not think for a second that I will not react."
  
  Ammon, like her cause, conveyed the utmost nonchalance. She was elegant but feral, aggressive but insouciant. "I march, preaching, but some are threatened by my words. It is a sad day when men fear words more than swords. Even so. I cannot risk the chance that our enemy's affiliates will not rise when their superiors are defeated. Surely you can see my reasoning."

 

[Sarah]

Cain had always felt that the longer he gazed upon Ammon the more uncomfortable he felt. Sure she was beautiful, that was an undeniable truth and he could barely focus until she was fully clothed again, though his stoic front didn't give away his discomfort. Ammon of course had no problem being in such a state in front of him, proof of that was both in her inviting him in and also in how calm she remained throughout. Even when she began to speak there was no sign of shame or bashfulness of any kind. Not to mention she didn't seem so concerned about the 'overreaching' as she called it, and to make matters more unpleasant she seemed to be taking things rather lightly, even offering him a drink. Cain simply shook his head, declining the spiced wine and trying to not get flustered at her solutions, or more so lack of solutions, to the problems he had brought up.

First off Ammon promised to deal with those holding women as slaves yet at the same time said nothing of the rape. Then the spoils, she had no intention on returning them which was not something he would expect but neither did she plan on stopping the soldiers from looting in future situations, which made them no better than raiders. Cain felt irritated further as she assaulted the principle of honor as a perversion. He lived his life by principles such as honor and service to worthy causes and for those same principles to be talked down upon... It didn't sit well with him. The fact that she didn't acknowledge him as a man with principles, such as honor, only furthered his anger. As an aristocrat and soldier he had always prided himself on those attributes, the attributes that brought men together to fight for a purpose without any incentive other than honor and glory. That was what they needed and by the time she had finished he was ready to push a bit harder yo make her see that.

"You seem to be in denial of the truth Ammon, speaking as if this war wasn't started by this army. The truth is we began the attacks to eliminate those who spoke ill of our beliefs and eventually it escalated to full blown war. With generals who behave like animals your cause grows more unstable every day, the reputation they give us causing the opposition to grow." Cain didn't move, he dared not step closer to her as he continued to basically attack the way things had been going, his words borderline treasonous, "Don't misunderstand my meaning though, I do know you will take action, and rightly so, stopping the campaign now would only bring upon more enemies, I just believe that you need to reexamine the reason we are fighting and consider the possibility that more people would follow you if some compassion and mercy was shown as opposed to the brutality currently employed."

The entire time he spoke, and even after he had finished, Cain stood still, watching Ammon for any reaction she may have to what little he said. On one hand she had made it clear she believed their was nothing wrong with the way things were going before he spoke but at the same time he had joined her because at some point he believed in what she stood for and had to hope that she could be swayed. It was out in the open and now he could only wait and see how Ammon took his opinions. It wasn't as if there were many ways she could react, she could decide to review everything and he would be satisfied, she could refuse which would cause him to move on to alternative measures, or it could go even worse than that is misfortune befell him. Whatever happened he was ready.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  The very instant Cain breathed the term 'denial' Ammon smirked. It was momentary; fleeting, but if one were studying her altogether stoic expression it would have seemed quite out of place. "You've never been to Pala have you, general?" Her lips were stained by the hippocras giving her an eerie aura. She licked them, steadily guiding herself over to a beaten throne there the cathedral's bishop once sat. Her eyes glowered, even more so from the pallid moonlight dusting the pert hills of her cheeks. "Pala is my home, often thought mythical because it is seldom spoken of. But, I implore you to believe that it does exist and I am in fact Palan." She cracked her knuckles; it resounded like a dirge of breaking bones. "It's an archipelago riddled with estuaries and mangroves as far as the eye can see. About six months ago a man came to Pala ... your people would have called him a tyrant, but we, we call him a guest."
  
  Her eyes suddenly hardened. She was pratically glaring at Cain, her grip so tight about her hippocras that she was like to shatter the glass. "He enslaved my people and slaughtered those who resisted ... simply because we did not have a god. He claimed that 'all godless men were a discrepancy and must be rectified'. To think, a complete stranger feeling so compelled to drive his religion down supposedly parched throats to quell nonexistant thirst ... it's ridiculous." She took another drawl, but this time she seemed to be using the mulled wine to pacify herself rather then drink leisurely as she had hundreds of times before. "Pala has been governed by a triumvirate for thousands of years. As the Soul of Pala, it is my duty to ensure that my peoples' religious beliefs are protected. It is not the Body's worry to quell those who threaten religion, thus, it falls upon me to protect them."
  
  The moonlight bleeding through the panes overhead cast a demonic light upon half her body, leaving the other half encased in shadow. She looked as some exotic queen upon her throne of dying rubies chased with bronze and copper. Her people were her primary concern and she chose to protect them using any means necessary, even if war became the most viable option. "Hespith was the tyrant's name. Before coming to Pala he rallied many men to his cause. He somehow managed to convince them that all godless men must die. The men that we have warred against, all Hespith's underlings and affiliates; catspaws he's somehow managed to convert. Must we live in fear because we are devote pantheists? Should agnostics cower because they do not wear the flaming heart of the Red God on their breasts?"
  
  Ammon came to realize she was growing livid, a trait that was often absent. She sighed, leaned back into her chair and loosened her jaw until it was lax. "You are the one who is in denial, general. I am a merciful soul, albeit empathetic, and my heart bleeds for those who rise with Hespith because they deem religion so crucial. They do not understand how crucial Pala is to the balance of this world. Disturbing such a sacred place is the highest treason and must be dealt with accordingly." She clenched her jaw again. "Hespith is an anomaly that must be annulled. If you do not understand this cause as Edmure, York and the others, you are unfit to be a general."

 

[Sarah]

As much confidence as Cain had, it began to dwindle as the talk went on, just the way Ammon acted told him it wasn't going his way. It didn't help as she sat on the rundown throne, the combination of the moonlight and the her wine stained lips made him feel like prey in a predators lair. In that moment it wasn't difficult to believe her origin story, the fact that she was from Pala or what had happened to her people at the hands of Hespith. Of course he had heard the stories before, tales of a city seen by few and inhabited by those without gods, a notion that was quite ridiculous to most. He had also heard of Hespith, not specifically in his dealings with Pala or its people but from other campaigns of his and he was a man deserving of the tyrant title. Her argument for war was not convincing as far as Cain was concerned but he didn't have the courage to interrupt the woman, the way she looked and the glare currently directed at him keeping his mouth shut until she was finished.

His eyes stayed on her the entire time as if drawn to her, Ammon's visage dazzling. While the cause brought in most of the soldiers and generals, Ammon herself secured numerous people to the cause. At the same time she was beginning to drive Cain away, her words not helping his insecurities about the methods employed and the future of the movement. Ammon had the opposite effect actually, her doubtfulness regarding his appointment as general hit a nerve. Perhaps it was merely pride but the irritation at her last statement broke through his stoic mask. "I have heard all the facts surrounding Hespith and his actions, and I do understand why you must fight but there should be a limit to who all you lump together as enemies in this war. You seem to believe that the children and women should be killed along with their fathers and husbands, that a whole village should be decimated due to a single man... It is tyranny the same as you suffered if not worse."

Cain took a few steps towards her, his face being hit by the moonlight and showing his youthful face, the emotion he was showing just making him seem all the more young, a trait he usually hid. "All I am saying is that your campaign should not mirror Hespith's and instead you should try and quell your enemies without sowing seeds of destruction along the way. Try and show others how important Pala really is, do not allow their ignorance to doom them... And do not allow yours to push people away, because I promise you, while I may be the first to come to you with troubled thoughts, I will not be the last." With that Cain turned and walked towards the door, turning around one last time at the door, "And thank you for not believing me to be on the same level as Edmure or York, I hate to think I will ever be as brutish as those two, no matter how effective their methods may be."

Cain didn't hesitate for a moment after that, he left the room and headed straight down the stairwell, past the guards and out of the Cathedral. He only paused after making it a good distance away from the building, giving himself a moment to calm down, his heart beating quickly at losing his temper in front of Ammon. There was nothing that could be done about it, the words had been said and could not be taken back, and truthfully he had no desire to take them back. Instead of dwelling on it he walked the rest of the way down the stone path to his tent and went inside, going over and sitting in an oaken chair behind a similar style table. There was not much to do after what had just happened except to wait, something Cain chose to do with a bottle of whiskey now that he was away from Ammon's gaze, it helped settle his nerves.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  If justice were a shadow, Ammon would be its embodiment. She flitted on soundless footfalls through the camp that eve, cloaked in a roughspun shawl with geometric shapes reminiscent of a vagabond's garb. First she examined the barracks, which Edmure and his men had fortified from the chapel's holy vestibule. Every thing seemed in proper order there, but it was the soldiers' yurts that proved to be most alarming. As Cain had claimed several of the pavilion's had young women chained inside against their will, being viscously molested by drunken soldiers. She unfastened their manacles and allowed them refuge in the cathedral until proper arrangements could be made the following morning to escort them to their respective homes. As for the soldiers' punishments, Ammon had them holed away in the cellars until she felt proper judgement could be passed.
  
  At such a late hour she found difficulty sleeping and decided to take advantage of her vigilance. As per usual Edmure was well awake, seated at his usual haunt near his sleeping quarters. He'd found a particular interest in the cathedral's abandoned library and urged Ammon to read some of its tomes yet she politely declined, responding that she had no time for leisure. The pair traded words and as quick as the shaky night air sighed through the cracks in the walls, they vanished.
  
  As instructed, Edmure crept into Cain's chambers and secured his unconsciousness by virtually crushing his windpipe. As if Cain were a sack of vegetables, the great red-headed beast threw him over his shoulder and stole through the darkness into the cathedral's cisterns. They'd been abandoned as long as the structure but clearly were gifted with far less care. With Cain lurched over his shoulders Edmure chased away the shadows with a freshly lit taper until they crept into the corners and huddled behind him with each passing step. A massive oak door approached at the end of the corridor. It was carved from weirwood and although it was slightly warped from moisture, the wood was still as white as bone. As Edmure crept closer he noted that the door was ajar and the eerie orange led the bled through the orifice. He entered, warily, to see Ammon at the end of the chamber with a leatherbound tome in her hands.
  
  Edmure sat an unconscious Cain into upon questionable looking chair and receded into a niche. Ammon was still silent, however, she gave him a nod of approval. "I did not know of the slatterns being kept in the soldiers' camps. I swear to it, Ammon, I would have -" She silenced him by pressing one long, elegant finger to her lip. "There were not slatterns," she responded almost iritably, "They were young girls who didn't know better." She gazed upon her prisoner, all peaceful and silent from sleep, but she knew he would be disturbed when he awoke in a collection of lightless tunnels some meters underground. "What do you plan on doing, if I may ask?" Edmure seemed genuinely concerned but Ammon portrayed that same typical indifference. She gently tested the knots in the table's wood, absentmindedly, and sighed. "I plan on showing him the truth."

 

[Sarah]

The effects of alcohol were particularly effective for Cain who rarely drank more than a cup or two of anything, and his consumption after leaving Ammon's chambers was no small amount. In fact he had almost emptied a full bottle, enough to dull even the most tolerant of senses. So on the night he should have been most wary, due to the words exchanged between himself and Ammon, he was completely unaware, his mind muddled by the heavy amounts of alcohol. The only positive thing about the situation was that he had passed out on his bedroll as opposed to the ground or in the chair, although it did allow Cain to be crept up on without even a stir. The usually alert Cain easily being carried away without the slightest resistance, without even waking from his slumber.

Cain didn't awake until some time after he was sat in the chair, his body being slow to wake even in the uncertain environment he found himself in. Of course at first he didn't even know where it was he was at and, for a moment, believed himself to be dreaming. It was only after the blurriness left his eyes and he began to regain some cognitive function that he came to the conclusion that he was not dreaming and instead was in a great deal of peril, his head turning slightly to see Ammon and Edmure, two people that gave him no comfort to see when awaking in such a place, though he was still not entirely sure where he was. If he had to guess it was underground, the roots growing through some of the cracks in the wall hinting towards an underground location, or at least partially so. Immediately that led him to the assumption they were beneath the Cathedral, yet beyond that he hadn't the slightest clue.

Cain's specific location wasn't his main concern, in fact it was barely a concern at all, what did make him a bit nervous was Ammon being present, her involvement meaning he was not in a good position. He didn't speak or yell out, or even try to run as he put all of it together in his head but instead chose to sit up on the chair he had been placed on and try to gather himself. It was not easy to gather himself or build any form of confidence in his current situation, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. The only reason he was even able to keep his calm was due to his own expectations after the slight outburst he had earlier, part of him foreseeing an outcome similar to the one he found himself in.

Cain was of course doing more than sitting quietly though, he was searching the room for anything that could be of help in keeping alive if things continued to descend from his current position, a weapon of some sort. Unfortunately for him his sword and other weapons were still in his tent. To make matters worse he could see no visible weapon anywhere in the room, no doubt Ammon having picked it for that reason among others. With nothing left to do he simply looked back to Ammon, his eyes staring at her as if trying to find answers without speaking. The tome in her hand not being so threatening but it didn't comfort him either. He just had to hope either the situation wasn't as bad as it seemed, or that he could find a way to escape during whatever came next. For either of those things to happen he needed to figure out just what was going on and while he could remain silent and find out eventually, he decided to speak up, knowing that since he was no longer asleep that it would have began soon enough anyways, keeping his smart mouth away and remaining serious. "Ammon, not that I am all to surprised by my rather unexpected awakening but what in the hell is going on?" None of the overconfidence was present in his voice, instead it was low and deliberate, his words almost hissed in anger.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  "We're testing your faith," Edmure said almost mockingly. Though he was a stalwart widower of forty-two, Edmure sometimes made stale japes. He was never a religions man and Ammon accepted his pantheism. It was Hespith and his cult that slaughter Edmure's family; his wife was raped and his children were strung to a gibbet in front of his city's inn. "We fear that you are not as committed as the others," he added, "and obligation is required."
  
  Before Edmure's voice fell Ammon struck Cain across his face with the tome which read The Old God Annals. The slap was thunderous in such a spacious chamber and ripped through the cistern's tributaries. Her strength was unnatural and equally unexpected. "It hurts, doesn't it." Her voice was monotonous. "Having someone force their religion upon you until you're battered and bloody." She approached with feline grace like some monstrous, slender panther, gently cupping Cain's chin to connect their gazes. She reached out and Edmure met her halfway, gently thrusting a decanter of hippcras into her palm. With little to no warning she guided the neck of the decanter down Cain's throat until the hippocras emptied into his gullet. "They shovel their beliefs down our throats and fill our bellies so full they are near ready to burst."
  
  Edmure was evidently disturbed by Ammon's choice of persuasion but oversaw her cruelty nonetheless. She was well aware he could drown in the alcohol but deigned not to care. "Where are your gods, Cain? Do you worship any? Have they abandoned you? Pray to them. Ask them for mercy; ask them to strike me where I stand; ask them to grant redemption to those we slew." She pressed her lips in a hard like and jerked the decanter from his throat absent prudence. "Have you ever heard of the Drowned God, Cain?" she questioned, making a circuit about the room towards Edmure. The second item he passed her was a threadbare strip of line. She gently wrapped it around Cain's eyes and fastened it tight around his skull.
  
  "The Drowned God was once our god, an Old God at that. His most devoted were drowned in a sacred grotto and, if he so willed it, they were granted life to spread word of his gift. We were told that it was a means of purging doubts and induction. A queer baptism, but it wasn't without its merits." Carefully, Ammon lifted Cain from his haunt and guided him towards one of the room's four exits. Edmure followed silently behind with a torch to chase away the shadows that crept behind them. "I want you to know destiny. To know what fate has in store for you." Her breasts were huddled into the small of his back as she guided him with timed steps, yet she seemed blissfully unaware. "I have no faith in you. But it is not my place to weigh your value. Fate will judge you."
  

 

[Sarah]

The addition of Edmure to the conversation was annoying, his words meaning nothing to him as he knew that the big ugly dullard was nothing more than a leashed dog, it was Ammon he had to be wary of. No doubt his words did resonate with what Ammon was going to say, or at least what she had told Edmure which at the very least meant he was not here under good circumstances, though simply waking up in such a private location had already made that abundantly clear. It did however make him aware that the words he had with Ammon in her quarters had not been taken well. All he could do was glare at Edmure and wait for Ammon to take over, which by the look of things wasn't going to take long.

Cain didn't have to wait long before Ammon took action, a hard hit across his face surprising him, the old tome in her hand packing quite a punch, although Ammon swung it faster than she should have been able to. A snarl escaped Cain's lips as she took his chin in her hand and turned his head, no doubt wanting to see the look in his eyes. The hit had bloodied his lip though and if she wanted an angry expression she got it, his features exuding disdain. As if being hit in the face wasn't enough Ammon took a decanter of hippocras and began to force the liquid into his mouth. At first he could keep up, swallowing the liquid and taking small breaths in between, but with the cut stinging and the fluid continuing to try and force its way down his throat he soon made a mistake, chocking on the liquid. Cain did his best to keep up after that, coughing and spewing liquid out as he tried to get rid of it in any way possible.

The entire time she was having her fun Ammon was also talking, asking him rhetorical questions and taunting him and while he couldn't do anything it was getting quite a rise out of him, which was evident on his face. He didn't believe in any gods as it were, not that she would know as he wasn't given much of a chance to respond, but to him it was a ridiculous claim, that people were made by one or more beings. Even when the decanter was pulled away he was too busy chocking and coughing to speak a intelligible word, instead muttering obscenities and muddled smart-ass remarks. He peered up at her as his composure began to reappear, his eyes only catching a quick glimpse of what she was holding before it was wrapped around his head in such a way that it obscured his vision. The lack of vision made Cain's stomach turn, being able to handle what he could see coming was easy, having to wait and find out what his fate would be did not sit right with him. There was no comfort in that time, the idea running through his head being one of death or worse, not knowing what the predator Ammon would do to him.

The story being told didn't help either, the idea of being drowned being the only thing on his mind as she continued to speak of the old baptism of sorts. He had one chance to do something about the situation he was in before he got drowned by the crazed woman and her dog, he would have to launch an attack before they did whatever in the hell they were planning, he just had to time it right and hoped he could figured out when without his sight. Remaining on task was rather difficult to do as they walked though, Ammon's breasts distracting him as they pressed into his back, even in such a situation the power of a beautiful woman swaying his sense. He had to do anything he could to stay focused, talking being the easiest lust deterrent as he knew it wouldn't be pleasant. "I think you will be quite surprised at what fate has in store for me... I doubt it will be what you are expecting..." He practically growled the words, walking along with her but doing so without any real sense of haste, slowing down even more than their current pace just to try and irritate the unwavering woman and to hopefully gain some advantage over her if he did.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  Ammon was well aware of Cain's lust to escape; she could virtually taste it along with the stagnant cistern air swirling restlessly about as the trio waded through debris. The walls appeared like a dragon's gullet, all red and half swollen with brackish waters. Edmure appeared disturbed by the small space and the curiously red stone bricks forming neat archways above them. "My lady," he breathed nervously after a long lapse of silence, "Are you certain you know your way?" Ammon proved resilient in virtually all aspects; he felt belittled questioning her, but his instinct nudged him to ask. "Of course," she curtly replied, "These tributaries were built five decades ago when the septons secretly smuggled slaves through sacellums and churches." She seemed to stiffen when she mentioned 'slave'. "They twist and bend for miles upon miles ... into the maw of madness, they say. Marching a man into these tunnels if sending a man to his death."
  
  Edmure lowered his taper near the cobble pathway to frighten away a flock of rats scrounging about for arrant morsels to fill their bellies. The corridors appeared to be growing smaller; their zenith appeared a life time away as he noted when he raised the taper into view, but Ammon continued to lead them on into the maw of madness. Rushing water filled Edmure's ears and drowned out the shuffle of their footsteps. It grew louder as they approached until the tunnel opened into an enormous grotto. Chutes of water wept from its broken stone walls and fed a pool of water that churned violently two meters below. It was a circular cavern with stalagmites for teeth and no light save for that of the torch which moved like snakes through through the pool.
  
  There are so many tunnels, Edmure thought, I can see how they say coffles of slaves are still lost down here.
  
  As quick as a flash of lightening Ammon ripped the linen from Cain's eyes and shoved him over the lip of the walkway into the massive lake of water below. "The Drowned God is no longer worshiped openly in Pala; do not tremble, I am not interested in drowning you." The sound echoed throughout the cavern and again became drowned by the waterfalls. "Fate will judge you now," Ammon stated rather coldly, "If you do not drown, fate has willed it. If you dot starve, fate has willed it ... if you do not live, fate has willed it." She stepped away from the ledge and plucked the torch from Edmure's hand, waving it so Cain could see her when he surfaced if he hadn't already. "These tunnels extend well underground with several exits, if you happen across them. Six will lead you to freedom ... but one will lead you back to the cathedral; back to me. I am curious to see what destiny has in store for you, Cain. Your trial begins now. I will be waiting."
  
  On queue Edmure turned, Ammon as well, and the pair were swallowed by impending darkness.

 

[Sarah]

Cain kept himself alert as they walked, every sound around him being analyzed and every movement by Ammon felt, from when she tensed up saying the word slave to when she finally stopped moving. He had no time to react when they stopped as Ammon reacted faster and ripped the linen from his eyes before shoving him off the walkway and into a decent sized body of water, the man only catching a glimpse before he plunged down into its depths. Cain immediately rose to the surface, sputtering water and trying to find Ammon up above him, though at first he could only hear her going on about fate and his test. He only found where she was as she began to speak of the chances, six tunnels to lead him to freedom and one that would take him right back to her in the cathedral, the thought of which sent a shiver down his spine. The worst part was he didn't know which way would lead him back to her because the way they came was up high where he couldn't climb, which meant that one of the other tunnels would loop him back around and into her clutches.

His concern switched from Ammon to actual survival as she started to disappear from sight. So Cain swam around until he found a shore and climbed up out of the water, crawling a ways before rolling over onto his back to catch his breath and think. He quickly came to the conclusion that trying to figure out what passage to take would be his doom, no doubt double guessing and nervousness would cause him to stay too long and either starve or eventually fall to his death on some sharp piece of rock. He would have to feel his way around and hope he could find an exit, any of the possibilities were better than starvation. So after a short rest he stood up and allowed his eyes to adjust as much as they could, which was not much in such a dark environment. When he finally realized how hopeless it was to try and see anything even feet in front of him he gave up and after a few more moments began to move around, feeling along the wall and making an effort to find a passageway that would hopefully lead to his freedom.

The beginning of his journey went better than the rest though, his quickness in finding a passage had given him hope but when he found the way he had gone to be a dead end it crushed his spirits. The rest of his time continued in such a way, long winding passages leading him to nothing but dead ends and the occasional drop off which almost fooled him once or twice. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he began wandering through the stone labyrinth but he guessed by his hunger and how tired he was that it had been a few days, days of which he had barely any rest and dared not go to sleep in fear of forgetting which was he had been going and which directions lead to dead ends. So by the time his journey brought him to actual walls and doorways of the cathedral he didn't make the connection, his exhaustion and hunger driving him forward. In fact it wasn't until he found his way out of the underground maze and back up onto the light of day that he knew anything was going on. He looked ragged, his clothing ripped and tattered, cuts on much of his exposed flesh, and dirt and grime all over.

When Cain's eyes adjusted it all hit him, where he was, what that meant, and while his survival instinct caused a feeling of relief, his mind, even in its current state of exhaustion knew it had all just begun. Of course he was too tired to speak and the sudden loss of adrenaline made his limbs give out, dropping him to the floor onto his hands and knees, his head raising to look at Ammon and although his features gave away his condition his eyes burned bright with hatred. He would not ask her to help him with food or water, he wanted nothing to do with the woman after what she had just done to him. Fate had certainly decided, it had given him back to her and as he remained on his hands and knees he cursed fate, gritting his teeth and doing his best to stay conscious, the sudden loss of adrenaline making it harder and harder to keep his eyes open and keep even a smidgen of control. He couldn't though and before he could say a word or even attempt to stand again he collapsed, hitting the floor with a thud and unwillingly leaving himself at Ammon's mercy.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  Some days had passed since Ammon left Cain to his fate in the cisterns. During that lapse of time she insured that the women kept captive for sexual misuse were safely escorted back to their respective homes with a pocket full of coin that would faciliate in the deletion of their painful experiences. Ammon knew better than any that no amount of material goods could compensate for abuse, but she could certainly try and whet their desire for vengeance.
  
  After seeing that her mean were well on their way to being entirely healed, Ammon holed herself away in the cistern's vestibule with a tome and a decanter of hipporcras. York would wander down from time to time, offering her morsels of food, though she politely declined and continued reading. One evening, after having seen the amount of hippocras she consumed, the easily aroused Oyouri man tried his hand at courting her. Although his attempt was admirable, Ammon didn't respond to any passes and kept her eyes transfixed to her readings. Desheveled, York disappeared into the cathedral but made another attempt the following night with the same results. York as an attractive man albeit lithe; he had some muscle honed from archery but wasn't nearly as rough-hewn as Edmure. He had soft features - a queer mixture with his facial hair but a perfect fit with the sea of bone-straight raven colored hair. He found Ammon's claim odd - she swore fate itself that Cain would return, but he was unconvinced as Edmure.
  
  However, her words bore fruit soon enough. Cain came staggering through the pale doors ragged and reeking and exhausted. Ammon hadn't even bothered to celebrate the precision of her prediction but, rather, she had Cain escorted to the cathedral where he could rest. His condition sparked jealousy among the ranks; Ammon let him rest in her bed, a mishapen down-filled mattress with a sea of throw pillows and animal pelts to keep her warm. Edmure visited one evening, sporting his usual attire in all black leathers. "Milady," he nodded cordially, "How is he?" Ammon said nothing in response. She offered Edmure a solemn gaze and sent him on his way as she sat in the vacant throne, honing her staff with lavender oil and varnish. Secretly she was eager to see his response to her "mistreatment" but she didn't quite expect him to be merry.

 

[Sarah]

Cain regained his consciousness rather quickly, at least rapidly considering the extent of abuse his body had taken. Where he awoke alarmed him though, a comfortable bed inside what was no doubt the cathedral, and that could only mean one thing, he was in Ammon's quarters. Cain hesitated in moving out of the bed, having to get up and try to find food would be having to either sneak out which bordered on impossible, or to ask Ammon who was no doubt close by and awaiting his awakening. He had to do something though, waiting in the bed was going to do him no good and he had to eat something soon a he felt a severe lack of energy as he slipped off of the heavenly bed and onto the floor, realizing his boots had been removed only because of the cold floors touch. His limbs were shaky though, no matter how strong he still was in spirit his body had taken quite a beating and he was far from being in good shape, his shaking and soreness was proof of that.

It wasn't until he was up on his feet that he noticed who was already in the room with him, his bodies many aches apparently throwing off his senses a bit. Ammon was sitting there on the throne, a staff in her hand and the same look she always had worn on her face. Cain snarled, weakly but the intent behind it was obvious. He said nothing immediately as he had to hold himself back, as he wanted nothing more than to give her a piece of his mind before slitting her throat and watching that arrogant look fade away. He knew it wouldn't go down like that if he tried anything in his current condition, the ordeal leaving his body drained and he could barely move, and even when he did move his body was heavy and he felt uncomfortable. He took a few steps in her direction though, his eyes narrowed as he positioned himself right in front of her, inspecting the woman like he was trying to find some weakness or just stare into her soul.

Despite his condition, and what she had done to him, Cain still displayed the same level of confidence as ever, the little energy he had being used to keep him standing up straight and at full height, as he would not cower before her. "It seems fate has a sick sense of humor, letting me survive but sending me back to you..." Cain let out a short laugh, fate could go fuck itself, he was not enjoying any of it. "I suppose this is the obvious question Ammon but what exactly do you have in store for me since fate allowed me to live? Will you simply kill me yourself or am I do be used as an example to what happens to anybody with a different opinion than the tyrant?" A smirk crossed his lips, he had held back smart-ass comments and such disrespectful comments before but now that she had shown herself to be unworthy of his allegiance he was not going to hold back. He would just have to hope she didn't strike back, one hit would most likely send him flying, Cain's strength sapped, all he had were his words at this point.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  When Cain had awoken, Ammon was well equipped to stomach his berastions. Any human of even the most modest of miens would feel the need to do so, she confided, and it was best to let him vent. "Your opinions are your own," she began with her usual sonorous melody, "Yet we must share some common ground if you've found yourself among our numbers, a general no less. I merely wished to show you a truth. Whether or not you believe it is entirely your choice." The staff she possessed was more a scythe than anything, but it was ostentatious nonetheless. It's body was enamelled in copper and lapiz lazuli, its pommel a vivid representation of a fossa's whose teeth had clutched a pomegranate sized opal in its jaws.
  
  She set the oversized weapon aside and approached Cain in all of her vulpine glory. That eve Ammon was adorned in the garb of her people, an orange robe chased with aqua stripes while the other half was dyed coal black. It was half unfastened revealing her bandeau beneath, but Ammon seldom deigned to care. When he laughed she circuited around to his back, gently taking the sides of his cheeks into her palms. At such a close range she wreaked of foreign spices and cloves and buttermilk, her hands as soft as a new born's supple skin. She guided his gaze into her mirror where he could see himself and her standing behind him as if she were some ethereal guardian overseeing his every action.
  
  "Understand that I am no tyrant, Cain. I am a paradigm as are all those who see worth in my cause. Idealistically, we should not be reprimanded because we are a godless people. Hespith will force his religion upon others who have known their god since they drew their first breath. Those who resist, he will slaughter and enslave. People need a deity, something greater than themselves to believe in. If there is no religion, there is no peace. Though I know destiny is the tether that joins, I will not force it upon others. But I will show them truths as I've shown you and only hope that they are not as blind as Hespith." With half-lidded eyes, the weary woman continued to educate Cain as best as she was able.
  
  "You may stay or you may leave. The choice if yours, though fate has already chosen. If you stay, I will give to you a legion of men who will follow loyally under you. I have already told them of your promise and they, too, are well aware. You are a warrior, Cain. Fight for what is just."

 

[Sarah]

Cain's head was a mess, on one end he wanted nothing more than to turn around and kill the woman behind him, but at the same time there was something about Ammon that attracted people to her and he was no exception. When she turned his head he didn't resist, the touch of her soft skin combined with the smell of spices intoxicating, almost causing him to almost relax against his better judgement. It was as if she was some enchantress, weaving a spell as she spoke, her touch giving him thoughts that no man should have after being treated the way he was. Cain had to focus to keep his head on straight so as not to say whatever he believed she wanted to hear and it was no easy task, not when her words made just as much sense as his worries. Cain's eyes had shut by the time Ammon had finished speaking, his body giving in a bit and relaxing despite his best efforts, and while it was hard to believe he was considering her offer genuinely when just moments before he would have as soon killed her as serve her again.

Even when the realization of what he was doing hit him he didn't push her away or turn to violence, he simply opened his eyes back up and gazed into the mirror, contemplating everything she had said. He still had some doubts, for instance there was nothing to stop her from deciding he had strayed from the path of fate again and throwing him into a cell somewhere or worse. Sure he wouldn't command a legion but if he left he would no longer be under Ammon's thumb. He looked at her in the mirror, pushing the beauty and grace out of his mind, trying to see past her physical attributes and see what she was thinking, as impossible a task as that was.

The offer she laid out before him was one that he could not pass up even after what had just been done to him, it was a legion under his command, loyal soldiers with whom he could stop the injustices caused by the other generals and continue to fight against other tyranny. Sure he could be right about Ammon, she could end up oppressing others in her quest to drive Hespith away and he would still have his doubts, but with his own legion he could be assured a voice and he could make sure the criminals who served Ammon were kept in check without having to go through her every single time.

His mind being made up Cain turned around and looked at Ammon, "As much as I hate what you did to me you are correct in assuming we have a common ground. I believe the cause is just, to free people from a tyrant. But hear this, I will accept this legion but that does not mean I will forget my beliefs, I will make it my duty to stop the other generals and soldiers from committing crimes against the people, no matter their religion. I assume my reappointment grants me that right." It was an awkward situation, demanding things when he was barely able to keep his legs steady, looking at such a beautiful woman and keeping his desires at bay, but hardest of all was trying to suppress his rage and that he would have to work on if he were to stay. "What do you say, do you truly wish for me to remain and be your general knowing full well that I will question you time and time again if I feel I must?"

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  "Do what you will with your newly attained gift, fate steadies your hand regardless." She took a healthy step backward, ocassionally glancing upward at the solar's glass panels. The pale moonlight crept, chasing the shadows in the chamber to their respective corners where the candles' light couldn't reach. Though Ammon deigned to admit it, she was wary; her wound was still healing and she was seldom able to keep her meals down let alone crouch without discomfort. Eventually she began shedding her clothing article by article. First came her garb, second her robe followed by her satchel, cummerbund and cinch. Underneath the layers of roughspun wools and silks Ammon was a nubile woman with pear-shaped hips and supple bust. Her breasts were hidden underneath her bandeau although the scant material left little to one's imagination.
  
  Even her runes were queer things; her skin was riddled in brands, all in a long since dead tongue, and the tattoos were ritualistic and tribal at best. What was most striking was the wound she possessed. Edmure did his very best to urge her into bed yet she was restless and often wondered the cathedral's swards come nightfall. "I am to have a council meeting come first light," she said, lethargy heavy in her steps. Rather than nurse her hippocras as she was known to do, Ammon, instead, chose to sample a particularly flavourful posset at Edmure's behest. With it she noshed on a heel of honey bread, kindly offering Cain a half as she reattained her sleeping quarters. She welcomed the soft, lye-treated furs on her bare skin. The posset tasted divine upon her tongue and she used the bread to sop up whatever remained. It was an unusual ritual, but Ammon was a foreign woman with foreign tastes.
  
  "Hespith's and his host have found followers in the Barrens. An unusual place, I regret, but it's seldom visited. I have reason to believe he's going to attempt to cross the Sandsea and return to Pala. The triumvirate is momentarily broken and he can easily covet our high seat if he's bolstered his numbers like rumours claim." Ammon appeared dwarfed in her ocean of pelts and throw pillows, a luxury she wasn't all too fond of, yet admirers and men seeking her allegiance brought many gifts and she was too much an opportunist to deny them. "If we must cross the Sandsea, then we need galleys. There are pirates in Yemen, but they are neutral. I may task you with changing their minds."
  
  She gave him a fleeting smirk then laid upon her pillows. "But, we will trouble ourselves with that on the morrow, when the sun kisses the zenith. Return to your pavillion and sleep, general Cain. Fate bid you pleasant dreams."

 

[Sarah]

Even as he was in the room Ammon began to remove her clothing, a sight that Cain was sure he would never forget. There beautiful sight before him was almost shocking, how one woman was as gifted as Ammon was baffling and somewhat irritating as it gave her another type of power of people, the kind of power a seductress uses to get men but more innate. Cain just stared at her, no real shame in it as she had no shame in stripping in his presence. Each tattoo and brand added another layer of beauty, perhaps not for everyone but Cain had always found such things attractive, the designs etched on the flesh appealing in their own way. It was only when Ammon began to speak that he came back to attention, his eyes going from her body to her face again, a section that was no less beautiful but less tempting than the rest of her, especially when Cain thought about what he had just endured at her behest.

He accepted the honey bread she soon offered, having to do his best not to shove it down his gullet and instead only nibble on it even with his insatiable hunger. "Pirates are not hard people to convince, I am sure if we give them even a hint of future earnings they will accept a meager token at this point. Of course their are other ways to tame such people but I will speak to you of those in the morn, for tonight I do not wish to disturb your sleep..." With that Cain gave a small nod, taking one last look at the beautiful woman laying on the bed before turning and leaving the room wanting to smack himself for the thoughts he had in his last moments in the room as he looked at her, thoughts he did not like having.

His body soon reminded him that there were more important things to worry about in the form of stomach rumbling. He left the cathedral and went back to his tent, getting a few awkward looks as he walked down the path from some of the men, no doubt surprised that he was back, although some had looks of envy on their faces. He ignored them, arriving at his tent where his quarters were just as he left them, even the bottle of whiskey was still sitting there open. It took him a bit but he settled his stomach, eating what he had in the tent, and then after a few hours of laying on the bed thinking sleep followed.

Cain didn't stay asleep for long though, the rest of Ammon's bed having given him enough sleep, or at least his body woke him as usual to get back to his regular routine. He slid out of bed and went over to the small chest that contained his clothes, a fresh set being long overdue, as was a bath but that could wait until they stopped at a town or had a bit more time to sit around. For the moment he simply put on some new brown cloth pants and white cloth shirt, simple and cheap but it was soon covered with his armor, a light set of scale mail armor, a simple silver with golden trim. It was perfect for his style of combat, allowed great maneuverability and provided good defense. When he was sure it was all on properly he walked out of his tent, the sun barely up and the men only just waking. They all looked over at Cain and he was like a man reborn, his usual confidence back and with him in his armor it was obvious that he was ready for whatever came. Of course he planned on going to the council meeting, invited or not, but for now he walked outside to show people that he was not about to back down just because of his absence.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  The council meeting was held in the cathedral's vestibule below the dais where a long, slender table had been refurbished to comfortable seat twelve. Among the noted was Warlord Z'onz, an elephantine man whose jowls trembled when he spoke, Lieutenant Isoobal from the Black Morass with his obsidian breastplate and pauldrons, Lady Nefertiri, her paramour Meereen and a handful of others who all differed in appearance. Edmure and York flanked the table, each circuiting to their seats adjacent from Ammon who, surprisingly, did not sit at the head of her table. As roguish as she appeared in her Palan battle garb her place was with her men. The man who sat in the high seat whose name was nefariously breathed as the Bear.
  
  "You've no squires to feed us?" Questioned Lady Nefertiri sardonically. She was ever so elegant dressed in lace and silk, but feared among her people. They found it queer that she took women into her bed in the stead of men, but it never drew from her feline arrogance. Ammon gazed through her, not at her, which caused goosebumps to prickle Lady Nefertiri's forearms. She shuddered. "Squires, ladies and lords, sires, pages, sers, such terms are nonexistant here. You are not in the Stone Kingdoms anymore, Nefertiri. You are a visitor in the Yelapagos. Our lands are of morasses; of mangroves and archipelagos and deserts so vast they could dwarf your seas in one swallow." Lady Nefertiri bristled but her paramour Mereen intervened, gently stroking her lover's hand as she would a child's cheek.
  
  Meanwhile an evidently discontent Warlord Z'onzz stirred in his chair, gnawing and gnashing on a haunch of boar. "We are not here to broach the subject of geography, Que'coti Qaaz Ammon, we are here to negotiate. I have heard you wish to involve Yemenese pirates. Is this true?" York chuckled his usual brazen chuckle, flipping his locks as if he were a young maiden trying to impress her future husband. "Sailors are hardly pirates, warlord," he grinned dubiously, "We're looking to procure their ships to cross the Sandsea. The usurper Hespith has found allies in the Barrens."
  
  "The Barrens!?" Warloc Z'onzz nearly choked on his boar. "Then he's found allies in a clan of primates and godless monkeys."
  
  "What you've often called my people," Lieutenant lsooba chimed in. He was an enormous man with an ebony complexion and a voice so soft the entire room had to lower their voice to make out his words. "Que'coti Qaaz Ammon is our emisarry and potentially one of the most capable people I have had the pleasure to meet." Although his mien appeared arguably obsequetious, he had some fire to him. "We all have some degree of qualms with the usurper Hespith and his ideal of purging and converting godless men. People of the Morass have worshipped the Drowned God since we knew how to erect crannogs over the marshes. If he is bold enough to brave the Sandsea and come to the Yelapagos, we are all, indeed, in grave danger. A conscious effort to discuss the matters at hand civilly would be most wise." He eased back in his chair and gazed momentarily at Ammon with his big, black eyes.
  
  "Enough," barked the Bear. His thunderous voice cracked like a whip, silencing the entire council. Ammon was the only one brazen enough to speak her peace. "I have appointed a new general and I have given him governance over my men, many of which came to me to request his elevation. He will be going to Yemen to speak with the pirates and I will be joining him. In the mean time, the remainder of my numbers will remain with Edmure. York will be taking two score to the Morass with Lieutenant Isoobal to quell Hespith's influence there. We must cross the Sandsea and return to Pala if we have any hope of bolstering our numbers enough to meet Hespith's numbers in battle."

 

[Sarah]

Cain had arrived at the council meeting before people began to speak but stood away from the table itself for the time being, his eyes studying each individual seated around the long table. A few he even recognized, past enemies when he served in the traditional military and a couple individuals of note whom he had never seen in combat but heard rumors of. It was certainly an interesting group to see together ranging from beautiful to ugly and small to large, none of them were quite as daunting as Ammon though. It wasn't because of his personal experiences with her either it was just something about her, the way that any of the others would hesitate under her gaze or how, while she wasn't sitting at the head of the table, she seemed to be the center nonetheless.

Regardless of who was the most powerful or which one of them commanded the most respect it didn't change Cain's opinion, and that opinion was that they seemed more a political group than a war council. You would never have heard a true military leader ask for food or have such meaningless chatter during a serious council. What struck Cain as most interesting was when York spoke and his words were ignorant although nobody seemed to notice as more pressing news was dangled at the end of his sentence. Sure Hespith found men in the Barrens but he had never heard of a true army from there, just tribal people which meant numbers but few soldiers capable of beating armored men hardened in battle. What Cain was concerned about were the pirates. He was not planning on taking their boats, if he could he would enlist the pirates as allies for they not only knew the waters better than any sailor, they knew where to dock and how to fight better than some of the people out in the camps.

That was not a worrisome topic, he had already been informed by Ammon that he would be handling that particular arrangement so if allegiance was what he wanted he would get it. As Ammon began speaking of him he remained still not really caring to introduce himself to this group of people quite yet and being very content in watching from a distance. That was until he caught Edmure looking right at him and it didn't go unnoticed, soon another one of the people sitting at the table had turned to look at him and not in a good way, apparently when a closed council meeting was in session they didn't like others watching on like it was no big deal and before Cain even moved he had drawn the attention of most of the table, although a few, including Lady Nefertiri didn't seem to care.

"Who is this?" One of the men around the table inquired, a gentleman of small stature but exquisite plate armor red in color. Cain didn't wait for an introduction at that point and instead just pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps forward, "I am Cain Stark, the new general Ammon spoke of." That seemed to grab the attention of any member of the council not already focused on him. It seemed they were expecting him to say something, all of them seemingly looking to feel him out and see what made him special enough to receive such a promotion from Ammon. "As Ammon said I will be accompanying her to Yemen but unlike York stated previously I will be looking to enlist the aid of the 'pirates' of Yemen. They may be rough but they know the seas better than any average sailor and as long as they are kept in line they will make incredibly powerful allies. Of course if they decline we can procure the ships but that will just have to wait to be decided." Cain didn't feel the need to say anything more and looked around the table without another word, waiting for whatever response people had to the news, although a small smirk rose on his face when his eyes fell upon York, still carrying a strong dislike for both York and Edmure.

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  "Of course they'll decline," Warlord Z'onzz protested, "Yemen is cesspool brimming with drunks, pickpockets, slatterns and smugglers. You think a group of pirates will readily allow you access to their vessels? They'd sooner carve out their tongues than let you command even one galley."
  
  "You seem to forget that Yemense merchants rely heavily on Pala for barter," Ammon replied coolly, "Pala is an exclusive province that produces rare fruits, materials for medicines, and I need not mention the garb you wear, I dare say it's of a Palan make." Warlord Z'onzz bristled; his jowls trembled in sync with his belly. He was like a bowl of gelatin, jiggling and wobbling and far too obese for his raiment. "Far too long has Pala sat on the Searim absent participation in political endeavours," he grunted, but before he could even fathom a personal assault, Lieutenant Isooba intervened. "So we are assaulting the Lady Commander now, are we, Warlord Z'onzz? We are not here to discuss Pala's political stature, we are here to anticipate Hespith's next advance and, if possible, thwart it."
  
  "Enough," the Bear growled again, but this time he stood, a man seven feet tall with one eye of flesh and the other of glass. "General Stark, as it would seem, you are a capable man. I do not doubt it. In fact, Ammon's appointed generals have each proved to be immensely efficient." York grinned like some child being rewarded for a good deed. "Seeing as this meeting clearly has no direction, I will adjurn it until a future date. I will send outriders to each of you when the time is right. Hence forth, Ammon and General Stark will move for Yemen, whereas the rest of you may go about your respective duties. I'll hear no more of this idle banter, especially from you, Z'onzz."
  
  "I was merely -"
  
  "Merely being a nuisance," the Bear imposed, "Out. All of you. I would have words with General Stark."

 

[Sarah]

Warlord Z'onzz seemed to be the type who just wanted to speak and he quickly got on Cain's nerves, especially when he acted as if he knew the outcome of Cain's mission before it even started. Apparently he thought less of Yemen than he should because while the lot of them were drunks and criminals, they were also skilled fighters and sailors. Combine Cain's knowledge of pirates and their like with Ammon's knowledge of Yemen and its reliance on Pala and there was no doubt the pirates would be swayed. That conversation was soon ended though, a giant of a man standing and addressing him, giving him some credit for being picked by Ammon, although if he knew the full story he would probably not think it was such a good thing to be picked by Ammon. York seemed quite happy with the compliment given out to all the chosen generals but Cane did not share that pride, instead he simply stood there without emotion.

He was of course surprised when the man ordered everyone but himself out of the room, it was not what he expected, especially on his fist time joining the meeting. He didn't object though, instead just staying silent as people left the room, some looking displeased and others glad to be leaving. Among the displeased was Warlord Z'onzz who obviously disliked any voice other than his own. It wasn't until they all left that Cain moved from his position and close to the table, looking at the person who seemed to want to have words with him, looking the man up and down slowly, trying to get a feel for him. It was hard to figure out who he was behind the bulk, the sheer size of the man making it the only standout feature. He was enormous though and while that meant little in actuality, it was a bit intimidating to see someone so much taller than himself, a trait that was extremely uncommon to such an extreme. With everyone else gone Cain spoke up, his voice calm as usual but rather respectful, "May I ask what words you wished to have with me?"

 

[Osheaga]

• 
  
  "A request, more so." The Bear unfurled a sheaf of motheaten parchment and began tracing his finger along what appeared to be a depiction of a river etched in blue ink circumscribed by bluffs and fjords. After drinking in his fill he anchored himself back into his chair. It croaked in protest under his weight yet he seemed undisturbed by the notion of it folding. "I worry for Ammon and the role she has adopted ... she has leadership in her blood, this much is true, but she is a story teller." For a moment the Bear chuckled. He swirled his wine in his goblet; it went the entire gathering without being touched, but a man of his mass could have easily downed several flagons without so much as going red in the cheeks.
  
  "But that is a story for another time. Ammon is essential to the protection of the Yelapagos, though I do not know if you're aware." He scratched his chin - a teased tuft of stark black hair that limned his jaw and became confused with his sideburns. "Pala's triumvirate is a sacred council that predates even the Stone Kingdoms. The Mind, the Body and the Soul, keepers of an ancient force so powerful it's said that their very souls assume the roles of keys to keep it at bay. That being said, I ask that you protect her. She has faith in you, I see this." He seemed almost pained to admit it. There was a brief glimmer of lament in his eyes, but it waned as quickly as his smile. "Edmure is as gallant as any but he is plagued by some dark past, and York's arrogance heralds his imminent failure. Thus it falls upon you to see Ammon safely through her task, though I fear you do not yet understand the role you play in the grand scheme of things."
  
  The Bear sighed, growing back to his haunches. He circuited around the table and reached for his broadaxe, a weapon similar to Ammon's though much gruesomer in design. "That is all I ask of you. Whether you choose to accept or decline, that is your choice."

 

[Sarah]

Cain listened intently to what the man before him said, not trying to interrupt or rolling his eyes, although when the man started speaking about it being his job to protect her he could almost laugh. Sure he would do his best but she had loyal dogs like Edmure and York to protect her and he didn't understand what the man meant by she seemed to have faith in him. As far as Cain was concerned she had faith in fate and his fate was simply intertwined with hers at this point in time and as soon as that ended so would her seeming interest in him. He could at the very least agree with the man that while Edmure and York were loyal that they both had major flaws. Despite his difference of opinion regarding himself he did know how important Ammon was, not only as a leader of the armies but also as one of the triumvirate in Pala. He was slightly ignorant on how important the triumvirate was in regards to some ancient force but it didn't surprise him, not after all the myth behind them.

None of that mattered though, as a general, no matter what he thought, he had the job to lead the armies and protect his commanding officer. So he simply nodded, "Do not worry, protecting Ammon is my duty as her subordinate and I will do so to the best of my abilities. Now if that is all I will take my leave, I have some preparing to do before we depart and I need to speak with Ammon as well." With that Cain gave a slight respectful bow before turning and leaving the room with much to think about. His mission was most important, he had to do it for the sake of the war, and even with his curiosity concerning the 'grand scheme of things' he put it aside to focus on what was at hand. Once outside the room he looked around for Ammon but she had seemingly returned to her quarters, perhaps to get ready for the trip ahead. Cain needed to have words with her before gathering the rest of his things so he headed in the direction of her room.

As he neared the room he spotted Edmure and York leaving the room and while he was trying to be passive he couldn't help but giving them a small smirk as he passed them, and that got him looks of hate from the pair both of whom on doubt disliked his promotion. It was a short lived moment as Cain turned into Ammon's room, only taking a few steps in before stopping and looking towards her, "Ammon, I wanted to come see about our departure. I will not need much time to prepare my things and get a few men together to accompany us, how much time will you need to prepare?" He got to the point, the words said to him still in his head and as he awaited an answer he couldn't help but inspect the woman in front of him. She was definitely no lamb in need of protection, she was one of the fiercest people he had ever met. It was hard for him to imagine her needing protection but he would do what he had to, protect the lioness and be sure not to let her come to any harm whilst they were together.