06-17-2015, 01:33 PM
Her son joins her quickly. He’s always at her side, though not because he needs to be around his mother but rather because they are both always serving the Chamber. It tends to bring them to the same place on a constant basis, and she certainly doesn’t mind. He’s growing up to be quite the boy. Obviously Warship’s child, and much less obviously her child. They are polar opposite, in the obvious ways. He is like her in his love for the Chamber, in his ability to be exactly what he needs, in his calm demour and the mask he can wear on his face. All Prince Charming, when the situation calls.
But these things are not outwardly obvious. She is brown and white, like her month. Her mane in wild, long and tangled on each side of her neck. She’s more delicate than her son, her Arabian heritage more obvious in her than in him. Though she’s not small either, given her mother’s larger figure. But her good looks are not clean cut and pristine like his. Her good looks are in that fierce, wild aspect of her. Perhaps she would have done well in the Jungle, had she been born there rather than here. But she couldn’t imagine life anywhere else.
It had been years since the Chamber had done anything of note though. It had burned to the ground too many times in the last few decades, been plagued from the chaos they had started, and really, too much internal warfare as well. Her father ended that, but he did nothing to truly disrupt Beqanna. Overthrew the Falls rulers, though they were largely absent at the time. Overthrew the Gates ruler, and allied with the only kingdom quieter than the Chamber. His moves hadn’t help the reputation of the Chamber at all.
Straia would love to change that. But she wasn’t stupid. They were quiet. They needed numbers first. She solved their completely worthless ally situation. Their ally was no longer particularly trustworthy, but they were much stronger than the Gates. Still, they had a long way to go before they could be a threat to Beqanna again. But she is a patient mare. She waited for the right time for the crown. She’ll wait for the right time for chaos.
Nayl is the first to speak. She’s not surprised. The girl is older than her age and bold, not unlike her son. She can’t help but think they might be something of a match for each other. Always challenging the other. Straia doesn’t care much for love, not really. She cares to find others that can make her strive to be even better. Though she can’t help but notice that both girls turn to eye her son a moment too long. The boy was useful without even trying. Which, she imagines, he knows. Her son is far from stupid.
“Your Grace?” she scoffs, because flattery does little for Straia. It’s fake, and she’s never much been into fake. She’d rather hear the truth, whatever that might be, and respects it far more. The girl continues, and her purpose becomes clearer. Perhaps Rhy had sent the girl, but she highly doubts Rhy told her to pry. It’s not as if Straia doesn’t keep her cousin at least reasonably well informed, when she knows something of use. Granted, Rhy has the ability to gather information far more sneakily than Straia ever could, so there’s little for Straia to offer her.
“I’ve only met your Khaleesi a handful of times in the field, and once in the Jungle. But I’ve known her since before she ruled. She’s dedicated and fiery. It’s hard to ask for more in a monarch these days. So many simply aren’t around.” It’s a mostly truthful answer, though perhaps not all that detailed as Nayl might have hoped.
She doesn’t have much of an opinion on Scorch personally other than the mare might do better in the Chamber than the Jungle. Too late for that, sadly. Straia knows some, though she doubts all, of the discord in the Jungle. Bits here and there, though nothing but rumors through the mill at this point. But from what she does know, it sounds rather like Scorch’s plans aren’t welcome in the Jungle. But Straia rather likes plans. She wouldn’t mind a few more schemers around. But that thought is neither here nor there really.
“What is it you really want to know, child? Can’t promise I’ll answer, but you stand a better chance if you ask.” She’s curious what the girl is really like. Curious if she’s all lies and deception and pretty words, or capable of more.
But these things are not outwardly obvious. She is brown and white, like her month. Her mane in wild, long and tangled on each side of her neck. She’s more delicate than her son, her Arabian heritage more obvious in her than in him. Though she’s not small either, given her mother’s larger figure. But her good looks are not clean cut and pristine like his. Her good looks are in that fierce, wild aspect of her. Perhaps she would have done well in the Jungle, had she been born there rather than here. But she couldn’t imagine life anywhere else.
It had been years since the Chamber had done anything of note though. It had burned to the ground too many times in the last few decades, been plagued from the chaos they had started, and really, too much internal warfare as well. Her father ended that, but he did nothing to truly disrupt Beqanna. Overthrew the Falls rulers, though they were largely absent at the time. Overthrew the Gates ruler, and allied with the only kingdom quieter than the Chamber. His moves hadn’t help the reputation of the Chamber at all.
Straia would love to change that. But she wasn’t stupid. They were quiet. They needed numbers first. She solved their completely worthless ally situation. Their ally was no longer particularly trustworthy, but they were much stronger than the Gates. Still, they had a long way to go before they could be a threat to Beqanna again. But she is a patient mare. She waited for the right time for the crown. She’ll wait for the right time for chaos.
Nayl is the first to speak. She’s not surprised. The girl is older than her age and bold, not unlike her son. She can’t help but think they might be something of a match for each other. Always challenging the other. Straia doesn’t care much for love, not really. She cares to find others that can make her strive to be even better. Though she can’t help but notice that both girls turn to eye her son a moment too long. The boy was useful without even trying. Which, she imagines, he knows. Her son is far from stupid.
“Your Grace?” she scoffs, because flattery does little for Straia. It’s fake, and she’s never much been into fake. She’d rather hear the truth, whatever that might be, and respects it far more. The girl continues, and her purpose becomes clearer. Perhaps Rhy had sent the girl, but she highly doubts Rhy told her to pry. It’s not as if Straia doesn’t keep her cousin at least reasonably well informed, when she knows something of use. Granted, Rhy has the ability to gather information far more sneakily than Straia ever could, so there’s little for Straia to offer her.
“I’ve only met your Khaleesi a handful of times in the field, and once in the Jungle. But I’ve known her since before she ruled. She’s dedicated and fiery. It’s hard to ask for more in a monarch these days. So many simply aren’t around.” It’s a mostly truthful answer, though perhaps not all that detailed as Nayl might have hoped.
She doesn’t have much of an opinion on Scorch personally other than the mare might do better in the Chamber than the Jungle. Too late for that, sadly. Straia knows some, though she doubts all, of the discord in the Jungle. Bits here and there, though nothing but rumors through the mill at this point. But from what she does know, it sounds rather like Scorch’s plans aren’t welcome in the Jungle. But Straia rather likes plans. She wouldn’t mind a few more schemers around. But that thought is neither here nor there really.
“What is it you really want to know, child? Can’t promise I’ll answer, but you stand a better chance if you ask.” She’s curious what the girl is really like. Curious if she’s all lies and deception and pretty words, or capable of more.
straia
queen of the chamber
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission