Jumping on the Emperor's Bed

[frill 2277]

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “[...] the Novellen Palace is the seat of the Emperor and his Household. It is from his throne that he oversees the workings of His empire. A select few are granted the privilege to reside and freely walk the halls of this magnificent structure.”

The Imperial Roll of Courtiers and People of Note, undated.

 

***

 

Fyrr’ seeks the emperor for an address, but with little response in kind.

22nd of The Deep Cold, 1771

 

Around 3am.

 

Perhaps in some life before his current, the ‘ker considered, he was a skink or some other reprehensible vermin that scaled walls with little thought beyond their scurrying. Thus so the ‘ker was dressed in his valah best, bare footedly approaching the window of the imperial apartment and sneezing with such a vehemence that a black-cat, that happened at that moment to be near the opened balcony of the elfess-mistress’s bedchambers (something that was by no means near to the crashing waters below), hissed a short sharp phrase toward him. Probably it meant, in the cat’s foreign tongue, “You should very, very much not be up here.” Fyrr’ retorted with a hiss of his own, being as much learned in reading and writing as the language of felines, and then himself approaching the balcony to attempt to heave himself through a window. The ‘ker had some success, nearly out-thought by imperial architecture.

 

With his sickly-thin belly flat against the flagstone and the floor dashed with glass, the mali’ker weaves in-and-out of each apartment of the palace, making a stop at that of The Imperial Sorceress, Vexalia if but only to fetch up the pot of khaffee to sate his own thirst. With the drink in hand, the ‘ker sought to ascend higher to meet the emperor himself; for his law he was breaking this whole time, surely. But alas, the door was unyielding.

 

At all events, the ‘ker returned to the boxed yard at the front of the palace, full of flowers exotic and domestic and strolling game-fowl of the same. The roof arranged in regular rows, unlike the scattered eaves of his youth, the dark-elf knew that the scent of wealth was pitted throughout the district and that any lingering would resort in his skull being introduced most unwelcomingly to a curb by the town’s militia. 

 

And with that as enough of a forewarning of his diswelcome, the ‘ker slid from the lowest of the gables and into the watery deep below - evincing little evidence beyond a splash.

 

[Crevel 7557]

A skygod would comment, “It is so immersive that it seems as if I was there...“

[ReveredOwl 5639]

“Not the first elf to jump on the emperors bed.” mumbled Friar Boniface in a cave.

[ARCHITECUS 4788]

5 hours ago, Boniface said:

“Not the first elf to jump on the emperors bed.” mumbled Friar Boniface in a cave.

[rukio 8924]

8 hours ago, Boniface said:

“Not the first elf to jump on the emperors bed.” mumbled Friar Boniface in a cave.

”All I’m saying is that the empress’ death was an inside job and we all know elves do it better.” Laerin would mumble from a forest.