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Post by tarabull on Aug 6, 2013 4:50:18 GMT
A tail flicked about, gathering papers. A pair of scaly hands worked two quills simultaneously as document after document was processed.
A hobgoblin walked into the room atop the Eastern tower of Castle Calamity with a ream of parchment, eager only to be away again. Tara Bull glanced at the bundle and nodded a dismissal. The hobgoblin backed out, relieved.
Tara had taken long odds and scored: Telleroth sat upon the hobgoblin throne. Calamity thrived and there was work to be done.
A busy hand paused its frenetic motion to clutch a goblet of red wine. The vintage was young.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 6, 2013 5:21:55 GMT
The hobgoblin caste of Calamity knew better than to make Tara cross. Their transition into slavery was not particularly easy, but it was quick and sound. Less than a year had passed and Calamity went from a loosely organized band of xenophobic marauders to a functioning, eclectic city forged by hobgoblin hands into a twisted form of the settlements they once plagued. To the formerly proud hobgoblins, being slaves to the fairer races was far less ironic than painful, but something seemed to bind them. While the terrible shadow of the Misfortune loomed over the city, there are whispers among both the slaves and the free-citizens of Calamity that Tara holds greater power.
The hobgoblins whisper among themselves in their slave-quarters, "I remember when she was an outcast among us. Impure blood. A child of the devils, born to harvest. This Telleroth, who carries himself as a son of man, can only strike down our bodies. But that demon-girl... I fear for my soul whenever she looks at me."
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Post by tarabull on Aug 6, 2013 14:15:07 GMT
The day drew near its close. Despite Tara’s frenzied application of ink, the piles of paperwork had not dwindled.
The tiefling smirked as she read a request from the foreman of the newly founded village. The settlers wanted a name for their home. Delusions of import were common, Tara had discovered, even in those unwilling to take necessary steps to realize their aspirations to power.
Who could believe themselves powerful whilst bound by quill forged chains?
“Unfortunates,” she muttered to herself.
“Your village will henceforth be known as ‘Unfortunate,’” she wrote.
Tara signed her name and stood. She stretched. Her scales rasped a pleasant acknowledgement of the movement.
She paused to look out an arrow slit, into the forest to the east. Beyond the forest was a plain. Beyond that plain was the ocean. Further still lay the world’s center, glittering jewel of the realm, most prized of prizes, the seat where Telleroth would one day sit. Calis.
Tara shook her head, clearing space in her horned skull for more immediate concerns. She strode across the room to her other desk, the desk where the ink was more than ink.
She harnessed her mind, building her focus to the acute point from whence meticulous direction and concentrated will allowed magic to flow, allowed Tara to hold the chains.
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Post by tarabull on Aug 7, 2013 4:22:51 GMT
...
The wizard read the message again. So: Telleroth had returned?
Calamity’s new ruler would want to go conquering, Tara Bull was sure. The prospect pleased her. What purpose had power but its own expansion?
The tiefling had spent some time preparing for this. There was much to be said for preparation. Just as Calamity was about to gather resources in the form of land, Tara had been gathering her powers. Should things prove too difficult, well . . . risks had to be taken in the making of history.
Nonetheless, it would be wise to have a few more allies on hand for the coming bloody tour of the countryside. Tara spoke an odd word and pointed to the fire across the room. The paper obeyed.
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Post by tarabull on Aug 7, 2013 16:27:13 GMT
The hobgoblin quickly and succinctly summarized the incident.
Telleroth the Misfortune had yet to contact Tara. He would be able to find her easily though and this newest report presented some interesting possibilities Tara was sure the warlord would approve of.
She dismissed the hobgoblin, making a mental note to double the creature's rations. An approach to leadership involving literal carrots and sticks had proven effective thus far.
Tara gathered various items and oddments from her quarters and set out towards the tavern where the newcomer had taken residence.
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Tara Bull
Aug 7, 2013 17:37:24 GMT
via mobile
Post by Deleted on Aug 7, 2013 17:37:24 GMT
In surveying the city, Telleroth became oblivious to the passage of time. His recent encounter outside the tavern only furthered the wanderings of his mind and steed, and when the realization struck that he had been away far longer than he said he would, he spurred his horse into a quick sprint through the back-alleys toward the castle.
"If news of this newcomer fails to impress her, I may need to muster up some kind of apology"
Upon arrival, the hobgoblin slaves deigned to bow at him as he rode through the gates. A servant, speaking out of turn, mentioned that Tara had left to find him some time ago. Taking to time to aknowledge the servant, Telleroth grasped the reigns of his trusted steed and rode once more into the city as the sky darkened
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