Muiren

Aledan Paeval, Muiren's King looked up with shock as the silver line appeared in the wall of his private chambers, hastily scrambling to his feet. Glancing around, he nervously confirmed that there were no guards in the room, only outside the door. An old man in his fifties, with hair white as snow and a small beard to match, Aledan made a whispered prayer to the gods as the figure of Laeveria emerged from the portal.

In that moment, Aledan Paeval, King of Muiren and Lion of the Ages, hero of many a battle and idol of thousands, dropped to the floor and prostrated himself.

Laeveria smiled. She stepped forwards with painful slowness, closer to the man, before speaking. "Rise." she instructed, her voice at once both seductive and commanding.

The King hastened to his feet, though his eyes remained pointed downwards. "How may I serve you, Great One?" he stammered.

"It has come to my attention that a number of a certain group of people are gathering in this city." she stated, "These 'Chosen'. You are to extend a proclamation that you wish to personally welcome those who have been named Chosen for a meal with their King."

Aledan gulped. He had heard the rumours, of course, and nodded his head reverently.

"You will be provided with a co-host, who I believe you are familiar with. He will aid you in determining who are the true chosen, and he will know the appropriate course of action once they are assembled. You will defer to him in all matters."

Again, the King nodded wordlessly.

"Speak, fool!" Laeveria snapped, "Do not stand there and nod like an imbecile."

"Y- yes, Great One. I understand."

Laeveria nodded, "If you fail in this regard, and the Chosen do not attend, you will order your city guard to hunt them down, as well as posting a reward. I will provide you with their identities." she instructed, "They are to be taken, dead or alive."

Laeveria did not in fact know the identities of all of the Chosen yet, but she intended to by the time it would become relevant. "I will return before the Chosen are due to speak with you both."

Aledan blinked. With them both? "Ah, yes, Great One. I will be ready." he asserted.

At that moment, a clacking noise from the other side of the room sent a chill through the King's veins, his heart skipping a beat. "We will both be ready." a hoarse and cracked voice spoke.

Laeveria smiled, looking down at Aledan. "King Aledan, I introduce your co-host. You may address him as 'my Lord'." she said, before with a final exchange of glances with the other in the room, she turned and departed through the portal. It closed behind her.

With his heart beating quickly, Aledan turned towards the source of the clacking noise. His breath caught. A youth was sat upon the arm of one of the sofas, straw hat tilted down to cover his eyes. His skin was an unnatural colour, and stitches surrounded his mouth. The youth grinned broadly at Aledan, the inhuman claws in place of his fingers clacking together once again.

"Well then, little King. You have a task to accomplish, I think. Chop... chop."

The way the boy spoke made it clear to Aledan what he implied. If he didn't 'chop chop'... then he would. Literally. The King hastened from the room, calling his soldiers to him as he did so. He had a proclamation to make.

As the King of Muiren sent forth heralds to shout his invitation to the streets of both Rasmorya and Naesnorya, Straw remained seated in his private chambers, a sinister grin set in place upon his face. The demon took a sniff of the air, and let out a deep breath.

"Smells like ... god-touch."