Meanwhile in the Duchy of Ghoere

Completely unrelated to the last story, this is set in the fantastic (no pun intended) version of the Birthright world Anuire that my friends and I, over the course of a 2 year long campaign, developed. It is perhaps the world closest to my heart, and when my friends and I get together and talk of gaming starts, we inevitably arrive here.

Some back story: This excerpt takes place after the unification of Anuire under my character, First Citizen Vandiel ad'Hemar. The current state of New Anuire is vastly changed from that presented in the original campaign book. The Baron Ghoere, who did not back the new empire, has split off and established his own Duchy, and a current state of cold war exists between it and New Anuire. Having only recently ended a war, neither side is particularly willing to wage a new one...or so Anuire's Grand Council thinks...

Baron Andal Ghoere sat upon his throne, staring at the odd pair in front of him. He didn't trust them, a fact made clear by the ten guards that flanked them at a "courteous" distance. He also knew that if it came down to it, the guards were dead men. Necessary evils, the Baron thought.

The woman was unlike any he had seen before. Silver hair and deep purple skin were clearly unnatural to Anuire, yet her sharp cheeks and pointed ears were familiar to any who had ever had dealings with the Sidhe. Yet despite her strange appearance, her physique stirred in him a powerful physical reaction. Perhaps it was her exoticism.

Her companion was a brute, literally. Surely the blood of The Ogre flowed through this one. At nine feet he towered over the elf and seemed to be made of muscle, leather, and steel. Though neither carried any weapons, the Baron doubted that it would be much of a disadvantage for the ogre.

Diende and Dagon. They, or the power they represented, were using him just as surely as he was using them. When time time came, he would deal with their inevitable treachery. Until then...

"Report"

Deinde spoke, a sing-song melodiousness that matched her mischievous smirk. "All goes as planned, my lord."