Thread: Eternal Sands - Closed

In the Shadow Lands, demons rise from the black sand as their ancient master stirs, filled with the accumulated power of an age of meditation in the realm of corrupted spirits. "I am ready," it whispers through the winds, calling to its Chosen Ones to once again make their push against the world. The Shadow Lord, embodied by the obsidian sands of its dark domain, yearns to extend its reach, but as ever the Rangers and mages of the Empire stand in the way as they have done since times long forgotten. These obstacles must be removed.

Mem stood at the mirror in his rooms, idly touching up his skin. He was dressed lightly in a set of trousers, embroidered in the Moritat livery of azure and gold, and a sleeveless white tunic. The rest of his clothes, a silk robe and sash in the same embroidery and color of his trousers, sat draped over a mannequin a just next to the mirror, a pair of silk slippers at its feet.

The room was the main of his apartments in Brecht Manor, a combined sleeping, dressing and study with a bath and attached servant's quarter. It had tall ceilings and beautiful sandstone walls lacquered in Moritat colors, with hanging draperies creating the illusion of divides within the room separating its various sections. The furniture were all pieces of polished hardwood, already luxuries beyond measure in this desert world besides the wealth gild and sapphire inlays decorating most of them.

It wasn't very impressive to Mem, who across his various lives had become a connoisseur stately living, and had his own largish palace back in the Shadow Lands more suited to his tastes, but he was not one to complain. He had spent more years slumming it across the empire, living shanty towns and back water villages and even once spent a few miserable months in a pox plagued brothel while waiting for a few plans to come to fruition, than living comfortably. This was practically a vacation.

Mem smiled an tapped the flesh around his eyebrows with the long jagged needles extending from his fingers. Depending on whichever drugs he was using, it varied depending on the desired effect, the touch of of his fingers could elicit a stinging pain or numbing or even pleasure but after so long, after forgetting what his own face looked like, he didn't feel even the slightest twinge.

He pulled back his hands and inspected the work, crossing his arms tapping his chin with the blunt of one needle reflectively. This exercise wasn't to change his appearance, he was simply readying his face for the next few hours. Not that he wasn't confident' in his abilities as an deceiver and improvisor, he would just rather have a more reliable fallback than simple skill.

There was a knock on a door, the one leading to the main courtyard. Mem sighed and pulled the skin back over his fingers as the needles sunk back into his hands. Once back to normal he grabbed his robe and threw it on with the sash holding closed around the waist.

"Come in" He called.

Turning to face the door he saw a tall, stout man in an intricate officers uniform in the blue and gold of House Moritat enter the room. The had all the traits of traditional boyish good looks, the large eyes, a slightly upturned nose, the soft cheeks, that was marred by the fact he was trying to make himself look hard and imposing. It didn't suit him well, but Mem was in no position to say anything about that. The man was his 'brother' after all.

"Tigris," Mem greeted, forging a forced smile as he slipped into character,
"Didn't expect to see you so early, I thought you were working on a speech or something"

Lord Tigris Moritat scowled. An expression that clashed with his face, Mem descided, the man needed a sort of flippant enthusiasm to make take full advantage of his boyish features, but instead tried for a hardened presence instead made him look like an over sized kid playing at power.

"No Max, your late. You should have been out of this room and entertaining our guests hours ago."

"I only missed breakfast," Mem argued, "I'll have all of lunch to play host. Its not like I was the only one who missed it, Lord Thenard's personal hoverbarge arrived just night."

Tigris's expression didn't change, "Regardless, I need you to make our guests comfortable. We will need their support."

"Does this mean you'll finally be making your brother privy to your plans?" Mem asked,

Not that Mem needed to ask. He was the one who implanted the plot into Tigris's mind, he was the one had come up with it. Only, it wasn't in his best intrest to appear so attached, so he had taken several measures to make sure Tigris believed the plan was all his own. This had included stuffing a few nosy servants into Brecht Manor's oasis machine, but Mem considered that a perk to the job more than anything.

Tigris gave Mem a sort of closed lipped half smile, "Don't worry, brother. Soon everyone will know."

Tigris then turned and gestured for Mem to join him. Mem quickly crossed the room, picking up and pulling on a pair of gloves as he did. Togeather the two then moved out into the main courtyard of Brecht Manor.

Brecht Manor was built like most House Manors. It was a tall, square, stone structure, with thick outer walls protecting it from the hard desert winds and other dangers. Inside the Manor was practically a compact city, with the nobles and guest living on the innermost portion with the servants living and working in the outermost reaches. Below the manor, and far below the sands, lived all the machines that made life in the wasteland possible, the generators, recycling center, food vats, the Oasis Machine, alchemy labs and others. All this centered around the expansive courtyard that held Bretch Manor's most famous feature, the Water Gardens.

Mem looked out, over the Courtyard now from the balcony walkway high in the top levels of manor that housed his apartments. From there he could easily notice a large crowd of various nobles and their retainers standing in the center of the garden around a stone dais where Moritat Lords traditionally made their proclamations.

Mem glanced over at the crowd as he and Tigris walked, "Brother, correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears that all our invited lords are gathered in the Water Garden?"

"Correct," Tigris confirmed, "I decided I would address them and lay out my plans before you see them to lunch."

"Oh," Mem murmured hesitantly, "Well, lets hope this goes well."

The two came to an elevator, which looked like a flowery gilded cage, and made their slow descent.