Snippet #1962951

Tarwethial wasn't pleased. Her ears were pricked up high and pulled tightly against her head. She paced back and forth around the antechamber to Fenarin's throne room. She was growing impatient.

"Where is Fenarin?" she demanded to no one in particular. "Where is King Raziel? I've been waiting for him for hours, and I have yet to hear if he has so much agreed to grant me an audience."

"Relax, your Highness," Marielle said, idly picking at her fingernails with a knife. "Maybe he's not feeling well. Or he slept in. I'm sure he has a good excuse."

"Excuse?" snorted Tarwethial, her ears pricking up in rage. "His people are dying. There are creatures straight out of nightmares ravaging his kingdom - "

"Well, there you have it. He's consulting his advisors on how to deal with the monster problem."

"Well if he doesn't get his act together, they'll become Grimes' problem too. And the only assurance policy my kingdom has, should the worst happen, is hiding somewhere in Fenarin. I need the Demon. But I don't want all the hastles that come with him seeking asylum in a foreign court, especially if he has somehow managed to gain the favor of the King."

"I understand, your highness," Marielle said, in her annoyingly laid back tone. "But stomping around with your ears all stiff isn't going to get you a response any faster. Sit back. Relax. We've had a long journey, and we should take some time to get some rest."

"The sooner we get the Demon, the sooner Grimes can begin preparations against the creatures ravaging Fenarin."

Marielle sighed, and put her dagger away. She wasn't getting paid enough for this. On the upside, Tarwethial was a strong fighter and a survival-wise travel companion, but she sure was an up-tight, nervious little bitch.