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Ice_Dragon_Demon
Ice_Dragon_Demon
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 Posted: Sun Jun 22, 2014 11:34 am
 Morrigan had been thinking lately of the state of the herd. She's brought her children mostly to train and Nefertari had watched. Most of her spawn were either religious, wanted to be Pharaoh, assassins or distracted while those who remained seemed not to care. Which left her questioning the ability of the herd to defend itself. Few of her brood it seemed was interested in the military. The herd may require some more members fighters if they could find them.
But who would she send out on such a mission? she mused to herself. She had watched all her children carefully during the training. The most enthusiastic were trying to hard. But the eldest always seemed nervous strange as it was. Morrigan wondered why. She'd found herself partial to the eldest boy. The child had chosen armor like her own a helmet and shield. it had made her curious, some of the other children had chosen pieces of her armor but ultimately remained tied to Nefertari.
She missed her daughters, Her daughters? she had her own? Morrigan was puzzled for a moment, she hadn't thought about her forgotten memories for a long time until the thought suddenly appeared. Where where they now? Perhaps... They would return to her if she looked? But she couldn't leave the herd now, she was the general. Perhaps she could kill two birds with one stone?
"Aineias," Morrigan roared through the halls "Find my Son" she then barked to the nearby guards. "I have a task for him." she finished
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Posted: Sun Jun 22, 2014 11:54 am
 Aineias's mother had an, um, piercing...voice. Not piercing in the classical sense of "piercing the ear drum with high pitch," but in the less conventional, but even more powerful "piercing space and possibly time like a ballista bolt through wet rice paper." Meaning that it was loud. And it could be heard over great distances. Aineias had heard it called a parade ground voice, and he had to say that was accurate. He could certainly hear her from a great distance away. But that was over the clashing of arms, the screams of pain, the winds of despair...not the alabaster walls of the palace of Anubis's Pharaoh. Morrigan might as well have been whispering to her son for all that he heard it.
Aineias had spent the evening before on a patrol, and had thus thought to sleep in today. Until mere moments before, he had been curled up asleep in his quarters. With the sun's rays hitting a mirror on the wall, he finally, begrudgingly, awoke, and, groggily, applied his eye make-up to protect from the sun. The brush, held in place by a wire frame attached to the mirror, was pressed up against the corner of his eye when the general's hound found him to tell him his presence was required. Makeup could wait. The famously misandrist general took first priority over all but the Pharaoh. He paused for nothing, leaving his face half-made up and his helmet and shield behind as he galloped through the halls towards the general.
"General?" He stood awkwardly at attention, awaiting her orders with bated breath.
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