Lutiana's voice echoed around the room as she shrieked with anger, spittle flying from her mouth. The general in front of her quivered in fear, his helmet clasped in his hand, his brow dirty and drenched in sweat. Lightning blue sparks crackled and erupted from the end of Lutiana's ornate golden staff.
"How could you fail?" She screamed, her usually expressionless face contorted in rage. "I gave you legions of soldiers to aid you!" She continued, the general flinching with every word, his eyes fixed to the floor. "Every one of your needs was met!" her long dark hair shimmered as she shook her head in fury. "You assured me you could do it!" She screeched as she grabbed a vase of purple flowers and threw them across the room narrowly missing the whimpering general's head. "Ulthuan should have been a push over!" Her hands were balled into tight fists; her long, perfectly manicured nails leaving little rings in her palms.
The terrified elf kneeling before looked up and tried to explain himself, "We weren't expecting them," Lutiana gave an angry snort, "Shadow Warriors. They ambushed us. Next time, I'll destroy them, I swear." He babbled. "Next time…" the general stared at Lutiana's feet too afraid to look into her hate filled eyes.
"Well," She considered, "You have been a good general, and you've definitely always given 110." At this the general straightened up, his back no longer weighed down with worry. "In fact you truly were the best choice for this invasion. But then again, the other generals might think I'd gone soft and we can't have that…"
The elf gasped in fear, he jumped to his feet and began to sprint for the door, but Lutiana had already raised her staff. A jet of black energy shot from the orb at the end and the fleeing general was engulfed in purple flames. His agonizing screams ripped through the air as the heat ate into his skin. Lutiana watched with a bemused expression as he writhed and squirmed unable to move. The flames tore away at him as he experienced the pain only possible from the dark arts. He jabbered and begged for redemption, for a second chance, for death. Anything to end this most hideous of pain.
Several minutes later the flames extinguished, a singed sword lay smouldering upon the ash. Lutiana gestured to a slave who hurried forwards and began to sweep the ash into a pan; another produced a new vase of flowers and placed them upon the window ledge. Lutiana seated herself once more on her marble throne and beckoned to a large ogre captive, ordering him to resume his duties as palm fanner.
A cough from behind the throne brought Lutiana's attention back to the winged chair by the fire.
Kilic rose and stepped forwards to the side of the throne his double bladed sword swinging in his right hand, his golden armour gleaming, his helmet covering all but the dark slits of his eyes.
"My sweet lady," he simpered, "I told you he wasn't strong enough." Lutiana flashed him a blistering look but he didn't flinch. Kilic was Lutiana's golden boy, she would never harm him.
"So what's your next plan? Do we give up on Ulthuan?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Lutiana threw back her head and cackled, conjuring a purple orb in her right hand.
"Dear Kilic, this is only a minor set back for us. Ulthuan will fall, Glarmis and Tirith will die and I will become queen over all the Old World," she said with a smile, rising to her feet and sending the ogre off with a flick of her hand.
"We just need a little bit of help," she concluded, releasing the purple orb and watching it zoom off out of the castle.
"Help?" Questioned Kilic, "it's not like you to have allies."
"Every good general knows to change her strategies to fit the situation. Besides they will only be my allies so long as they are useful."
At this Kilic let out a callous chuckle, "you are so wonderfully devious my dear Lady." Lutiana smiled maliciously, releasing another four purple orbs to disperse in various directions.
"Assemble your Black Guard. Tell them to prepare for war."
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