Though the hour was late, the citadel's barracks could hardly be considered deserted. An array of acolytes and soldiers alike were scattered throughout the sparsely decorated room, some bearing an aggressive measure of muscular brawn whilst a few others remained rather wiry - perhaps more agile to some extent. Each were occupied with their own activities, hefting weights or engaging in some light sparring within the center ring.
As one could expect in the central hub of any militant force, several banners were strewn across the walls and each bore the crest of their mistress. It could almost have been considered a coat of arms yet the symbol threaded through the sturdy fabric was inherently demonic and as though lit from behind - motes of green light were emitting from the sigil itself. Each banner bore the trademark colors of deep dulled scarlet and fiercely luminescent jade, as though attempting to represent a vast sea of blood set alight by that crest of felfire. Weapons also hung upon the walls alongside torches lit with jade fire and other armaments were scattered throughout the interior of the room, some set upon racks whilst others seemed to be more randomly scattered.
To anyone familiar with the presence of a certain pale-haired advisor, it was immediately clear that the tidy little merchant hadn't seen much of the military wing - perhaps due to his aversion toward combative matters or possibly to avoid the disorganization within. One of Ester's associates however, seems to have taken position in such a place despite remaining quite plainly ill-suited when one merely took a glance over his appearance.
Elaborate and gaudily colored robes adorned the advisor's tall frame, tailored with dozens of unnecessary additions adding ornamentation to the garb. Deeply concentrated shades of mauve and light burgundy were the main focus of his attire yet it was accented with ivory trims, beading and embroidery wherever possible. An off-white hue colored the sleek tresses sprouting from his head and spilling right down to his lower back. His flesh appeared to be a very light tone of cyan, almost alabaster yet still containing a few motes of greyish blue that mark him quite plainly as a member or perhaps a descendant of the Highborne aristocracy. The noble elven man held his wiry arms in a loose fold across his notably masculine chest - not particularly broad to a heightened extent yet still clearly that of a man.
And the tall Highborne was not alone within the militant's wing of the citadel, another figure positioned rather close to his other side. Quite a bit shorter than her advisor, the woman was a display of porcelain skin and delicate curves. Glossy ebon hair fell in curling rivulets from her head, blossoming like cascading tulips that are currently bound by a band at the back of her head. A few sprout free and cover her forehead whilst also falling alongside the utter perfection of her ivory features. Spined horns curved upward from the crown of her head, blackened to obsidian and arching skyward. A splay of darkened veins clustered at the base of these protrusions yet grew more sparse in other regions - only making a more potent appearance at her wrists where that same obsidian sheen can be noted coating her hands and morphing them into slender claws. Casual attire adorned the demonic matriarch on this evening, though it may be difficult for anyone else to denote it as such. It was a favoured midnight blue robe, one that only fell midway down her thighs and was tied tight at her waist with a matching silken sash. That ripe alabaster bosom was almost on full display with the scandalous parting of the loose robe.
Conversing in low tones with her subordinate, the matriarch seemed to be gesturing rather favourably toward a demonic soldier pumping his muscular frame into motion with the hefting of several rather impressive sets of weights with almost no strain whatsoever. The creature was a significantly impressive beast, enhanced by demonic strength and endowed with the natural prowess of his kind - dark crimson flesh causing him to draw one's eye with more ease than most. Yet while the delicate matriarch seemed entirely fixated upon this majestic demonic presence, her advisor was not so single-minded. Avidly luminescent white orbs were focused rather intently on the horned woman as she spoke, flitting repeatedly down to the plush mounds that seemed ready to burst from the robe binding them in place. It was rather likely that Hex'ai had noticed the true direction of her advisor's attention yet held no objection to being so blatantly admired. In fact, she was welcoming it by honoring her loyal companion with increasing proximity.
At length, the Highborne himself was able to tear his hungry gaze away from his mistress and settle it upon the arriving figure of her lover. Those pulsing pearly optics were now meeting with Drexxel's, almost daring him to make some sort of move. And there was nothing playful about the Highborne's demeanour - it was pure unadulterated aggression issuing forth from the arcane-infused depths of his gaze and from his stout posture. And as though to add insult to injury, Eldre'thar unfurled his folded arms and reached out with one of them to softly place his dextrous hand upon his master's shoulder, reaching around her to hold her within his own gentle yet intrinsically possessive embrace.