A Queen of Cats and Midgets

Roleplaying blog for Queen Ayrenn Arana Aldmeri set during the time of the Alliance Wars. If your character has connections to Ayrenn send me an ask prior to us roleplaying. Mun is over 18. Tags

[thetharnbarn]

Throw Back the Little Ones (RP - Abnur Tharn + Queen Ayrenn + Arlen Askew + Urcelmo² + a Veritable Hollywood Canteen of Others)

[thetharnbarn]

"Arlen Askew!" Urcelmo lilted the name, as if it was some hitherto unknown curiosity dredged from the depths of history.

He said it again, this time a revelation. “Arlen. Askew.”

"Yes. Arlen Askew,” echoed someone else, a strong accent coming from the bottom of the steps. When he did it, it was imbued with a sibilant, sullen profile, which was very hip these days.

"And Razum-dar." Urcelmo could identify him by voice alone; Razum-dar was the sort of fellow who could take any word and make it cool simply by giving it the once-over with his teeth and tongue. He had a strong accent that the more savvy would trace to the northern badlands, possibly around Dune.

Beyond that, Razum-dar’s origins were an enigma, much like his general demeanor, his presence in the caravan and his particular choice of fashion that day*.

"Raz cannot speak for the Queen and her tin-plated kettle-bell of a bodyguard, but this one is very familiar with the names being bandied around right now, yes," said Raz, folding his arms. "Unfortunately, we came to see the one in question, not merely utter his name. Unless, of course, uttering his name three times will summon him like some unholy urban legend—”

"—n-no! No no," Urcelmo stammered. "It’s just that. Uh. You can’t see Askew right now, he’s, uh—he’s sleeping."

(*As for the last one, Razum-dar had lost a bet. Not that he’d ever admit that.)

[queen-ayrenn]

This response wiped the smile from Urcelmo’s face and replaced it with a scowl.

“That was an order. An order that you did not have the option of saying no to, and from a Battlereeve, no less. Now, I’ll tell you again, Her Majesty and I are ready to see Arlen As--”

“Shush, Urcelmo.” Ayrenn said, and Urcelmo obeyed. Yet his dour expression remained.

“You are small.” The Queen said, cupping the younger Urcelmo’s face in her hands. “And I don’t mean in terms of your height. I mean that you are insignificant. You are insignificant to me and my Dominion. A hundred others could have taken this assignment and done a better job with it.”

Ayrenn smiled, squishing the man’s cheeks slightly with her hands. “They also would have known that it is treason to lie to their Queen.” She laughed though it was clear that she did not find anything about this situation amusing. “Did you honestly think you could get away with lying to me? I’m a politician.”

[thetharnbarn]

Throw Back the Little Ones (RP - Abnur Tharn + Queen Ayrenn + Arlen Askew + Urcelmo² + a Veritable Hollywood Canteen of Others)

And yes, the spectacular mid-morning skies over the city of Arenthia were threatening. Doesn’t anyone ever take the time to contemplate what that actually means? Threatening skies. True, that sort of thing usually implies severe weather, the sort of fracas that accumulates in the distance as a darkening gloam.

True, the word package threatening skies rarely applies to the clear blue variety. A scraggly collection of white poufs never so much as ruffled a feather of a passing cormorant. However, from his post just outside of a small apartment cottage on Sugar Basket Ln., two right turns off the main city drag, Urcelmo looked upon those skies with dread.

Just the same as he would an oncoming cold front or a dark anchor, which he would’ve welcomed today, ironically enough.

To be specific about him (and not the world in which he dreaded), he was Urcelmo. 164 years old, 5’10” Imperial. Measurement, that is—Altmer, Alinor-born, Firsthold-raised, ranked Able Sub-Commander of the Aldmeri Dominion Civil Forces (“Promoting the civil use of force, when necessary”).

His remarkable ability to gape in place for hours on end earned him a promotion, but burdened him with great Responsibility, capital R. This Responsibility was so germane to the security of the entire Dominion that they kept it under house arrest in a modestly appointed apartment cottage, all potential exits unlocked, with the front stoop guarded by one of their finest doorstops.

Briefly, Urcelmo wondered if a doorstop had ever been blamed (or worse, demoted) for any Responsibilities escaping through a kitchen window.

But only briefly, for he heard the clomping of his expected visitors, clamoring up the lane, a cloddering parade in celebration of itself.

Clear skies be damned, he spat to himself. They meant that the only delays the royal party had experienced would’ve been over trifles as minor as fleshflies in the Qha’lua or an error in Her Majesty’s morning calisthenics. Certainly no reason to call off the entire junket and go galloping back to Elden Root.

Urcelmo knocked his boots together, bringing himself to full attention in front of the dainty cottage door.

"Your Majesty. Battlereeve. For the Dominion," he greeted the parade leaders stiffly.

[queen-ayrenn]

This affair had been going on for much longer than Ayrenn had the patience for. If she had her way, it would have been solved long ago on the gallows, but the Battlereeve had insisted on her thinking intelligently. "You must think of the possibilities, My Queen." He had repeated to her what felt like hundreds of times until she gave into it. Oh, how she despised his rationality.

It had taken weeks of discussion to come to an agreement about how her agent should be dealt with, and only then did it happen because of a few bottles of baltic bitters and assurances that Urcelmo would handle all paperwork himself. Yet even though the Queen had certainly got the better end of the deal, she made it abundantly clear to all involved that if something were to go awry, Arlen Askew would not be the only one fitted for a noose.

Urcelmo was not worried by her threats, nor was he worried about the possibility of anything going wrong. He had worked too hard for that to happen, after all. So when he and the Queen headed to Arenthia, he was the picture of positivity, though this positivity did not do much to relieve Ayrenn’s own apprehensions, nor did it make her scowl any less.

They arrived on time in Arenthia and were greeted by spectacular weather which Urcelmo pointed out excitedly to his Queen, who responded with a quiet “mmm.” Her lack of enthusiasm was of no concern to Urcelmo, who continued to chatter more about the weather, provoking even more “mmm”s from the Queen. He smiled at her as he helped her from the carriage but received no smile, smirk or grin in return. Instead she just chose to make her way down the path, causing Urcelmo to hurriedly close the carriage door behind him so he could catch up to her and be by her side.

The man to greet them was the Sub-Commander of the Aldmeri Dominion Civil Forces, also named Urcelmo, evidently after the Battlereeve himself. He was a good enough lad, though the Battlereeve found him rather uncanny, but he was determined to not let that uncanniness get in the way of duty.

“Sub-Commander.” Urcelmo bowed his head respectfully. “Her Royal Majesty and I have been eagerly awaiting this moment. As you know, this meeting we have organized is paramount to the safety of the Dominion, and it is also of extreme personal importance to Her Majesty as well. You may inform Arlen Askew that we are ready to see him now.”

[queen-ayrenn]

((Recommend me some blogs to follow, it has been a LONG time since I've set foot in here.))

[ayrenn-archive]

Elder Scrolls Online: Queen Ayrenn's House