Beiträge von Hellwolve

Radovan bowed his head, in a nod of sorts, after Ka'Shalee was done talking. He wagered most people would be angered or sad after such a turn in the conversation, but he was still amused. Wagers were always like this; you won some, you lost some. Options were always there and to him it seemed he'd have to explore his other options.

"I guess that settles it then, your Excellence. I had wagered the title of a Protector would be a fine acknowledgement for what I and my House have done for you, treating your wounds and plenty more, but if this is how it is for now, you shan't hear a complaint. I shall give my dearest effort to expand my knowledge."

"To each their own, I suppose. It's clear what your Excelence is trying to say."

Radovan thought more, a more snappy comeback, but he swallowed it just in time. And he barely blinked. Being threatened, hearing implied violence, did little to disturb his mood, no matter which mortal source it came from.

"I am more than willing to provide content for your Excellence, if your Excellence would be so kind as to be more specific about said content; about what she wants to hear."

The Devil nodded.

"Very well. What I was factually doing there is what House Cerastes specialises in: trailblazing. To boldly go where none of the Cosa Diavolo Nostra have gone before. And to be more specific, employing our specialities; diplomacy and ritualism. The latter, to see if we could accomplish great works, like I believe we did. The former to see if we could find any weaknesses with our enemies that can only be exploited by words, but not by war."

Radovan shifted his weight again. This position was wearing on his mortal shell. How could these fleshlings keep up with such a body?

"And to be more specific yet again, I assume your Grace would like to know what I, personally, was doing. I'm afraid it was dull for the greater part. As the Don of this House, it's my job to keep everyone in check, and to connect people. The time I didn't spend on that, I was flexing my own diplomatic muscles to reach common goals."

Radovan smiled yet again. He was still at ease, even though that seemed illogical.
"Your Excellence, had I been in your position, I might have said the same. I appreciate the truth, like so many others. And though I must confess I do not recall the exact wording used, yes, I do feel I am telling the truth when I say the request, the mission, was primarily to deal with the servant."

Radovan bowed his head briefly, and smiled.
"Glad to hear you are a connoisseur of rituals. Too few appreciate the craft. As for him existing, I know he appeared on the field of battle. The 'how' I do not know. And him dealing with me, I would not dare to claim this to be true. Rumours are as they are; they are not truth. Viribus Unitus tasked House Cerastes to deal with his servant. Nothing more, nothing less."

Radovan's reply came swift. Very few things other than the truth came swiftly - all else had to be thought of on the spot.
"There was no intrigue involved, your Grace. The event, the shattering, was real. There are some ritualistic details I'm abandoning here for the sake of brevity, but to make a long story short, there was energy put into him to control him, we poured energy into him to break control and the sum of these energies was too great for him to contain and he, well, shattered."

"Hmmm, yes, that is one clear difference. But I'm not here for our differences, but for our common ground."

Silent for a few seconds, Radovan visibly perked up when the Nyame asked her last question.

"And for more than our common ground, yes, I'm indeed here to ask to become a Protektor. We can find common ground in that I, too, believe a Protektor needs to have qualities that make him or her more than a common settler. I could be insipid about this and mention that being what I am, I am effectively immortal, but it would be mostly in jest to present this here and now as speaking in my favour for the position of Protektor."

Though the Devil was quite comfortable, he stopped speaking for a few seconds to shift his weight. This mortal shell had different needs than he was accustomed to and there was a strange tingling sensation in his legs.

"I had anticipated such a question and thought about this in earnest. I'd say chief amongst these things are the resources I bring to bear. On a personal level, it were operatives of House Cerastes that managed to keep your Excellence alive, together with several other Nyames, on the field of battle, some time back. Recently, both the information about the Talakesh and the...'acquisition' of the Atelier were enabled by yours truly. More importantly, two of the military victories of the North, the Shattering of the Mirror Lord and the Vanquishing of the Herald of War, happened with my direct aid."

The Devil smiled.

"There are other minor things, but I'd consider those most important. The last thing I'd like to add is this. I know I am in no position to demand anything. What is given by your Excellence will always be a sign of good will, a boon for previous services rendered. But if your Excellence would see it fit to do so, the Cosa Diavolo Nostra, and House Cerastes specifically, would be greatly enabled to perform even greater works. I would gladly pledge myself to such great things and by my very nature, I would be physically and mentally unable to twist such a pledge."

Interesting. She was testing his patience, his tolerance. Well. Radovan wasn't nicknamed 'Ironclad' just for his past as an armoured bodyguard - his skin was thick, both literally and figuratively speaking. This Drow wouldn't get under it that easy.

"I'm afraid, your Excellence, that my plane of origin, Avernus, simply has different etiquette. Not necessarily stricter, but mostly...well, different. For instance, it is a widespread custom in the city of Darkspine to offer guests a seat. I wouldn't say that's stricter, persé."

The answer was short, and rather to the point.

"I must confess, your Excellence, I simply had not considered the possibility that the etiquette where I come from and the etiquette of the North would differ so widly."

Despite the actual words being spoken, the Devil smiled. It seemed the games had started in earnest.

"Your Excellenz, contrary to popular believe, most Demons and Devils are unable to read minds. And alas, I did not receive the pleasure of specific schooling in the etiquette of the North. These facts combined, meant I had to rely on the strength of my conviction, trust my instinct of what it means to be hospitable, and finally, trust that the North's famed solidarity would see the things we have in common, namely, a wish for a united North, and for each and everyone treated with the respect he or she deserves."

Without being prompted to do so, Radovan bowed his head, half a show of respect, half a simple nod.

"If such feelings and intentions make me special, I will gladly be special."

While Radovan knelt down on both knees, making himself as comfortable as he could be - the Devil saw no reason to not both make himself at ease and appease the Nyame - he chanced a quick glance in her direction.

"My apolagies, madame. I did not intend to address one such as you without being spoken to, but I think it's impolite not to answer, be they soldier or queen."

Despite the rocky start, the Don of House Cerastes still had a faint smile across his face. He was an optimistic man, as ever. Devils dealt in vices and those being as they were, they sprang forth from everyone - consequentially, he knew all kinds of folks and was comfortable anywhere.

"Now, as to your question, your Excellence, yes, I am still interested in an audience. I care too much for the North and the goal I have in mind to withdraw now."

Chancing a second glance, he saw the Nyame look at him and taking yet another risk, he kept her gaze locked for a few seconds, before looking downward again.

There now was spoken word, alas, not by the Nyame. The guard, apparently this time not content to just clear his throat and hope the Devil in their midst took the hint. No, this time it was a spoken instruction. Radovan still had no wish to eradicate any chance of speaking to the Nyame. Normally a setback would mean he'd wait until the bothersome mortal had perished and was replaced by a more pliable man or woman, but Drow had a tendency to live long lives.

"Ah, how could I forget..."

The Don had bitten his tongue for a more scathing remark and settled for that admission. It was followed by the Devil kneeling down on one knee, his movements as fluid as he could muster. Once kneeling on the floor, he waited again, patient as ever. The Humans he had seen on his first trip to the Prime Material plane often called it 'angels' patience', which was a nice irony to Radovan.

Some Demons and even some Devils have eyes in the back of their head. Radovan did not have that luxury, so he never saw the guard reaching for his sword. However, his ears were fine and he didn't have to guess what the cleared throat meant. No one could see it because the Devil already kept his head bowed, but the gesture made him smile. Drow were one of the few folks who matched Outsiders like himself in terms of arrogance and a love for decorum.

Not wishing to literally cut his visit short by a guard's sword, the Don stopped in his tracks and bowed deeper by way of additional greeting. As far as he could remember, this was a case of 'do not speak unless spoken to', so once more, the man awaited further happenings.

Slowly and steadily, Radovan started to walk closer, head bowed in a clear sign of respect for the woman's customs - but not an inch lower than needed. The Demon was a proud one and although he'd never admit it to the Nyame's face unless specifically asked, he'd prefer to deal while looking someone straight in the eyes.

While walking, in his thoughts, the Don recounted all the information he had gathered. He felt he had a good chance of getting what he wanted, but there was no such thing as 'too well prepared'. Mortal life is a game of chance, and stacking the cards in your favour if and when one was able, was never a bad idea. He was still a bit nervous, but the good kind, as if he'd go up on stage, the good kind of stress - it gave him an edge.

So he strode forward, fully well expecting to be told when he was allowed no closer.

Although some men would be nervous, Radovan wasn't in the least worried something bad would happen. Lesser men might quiver, but he was not lesser, not at all. Or at the very least arrogant enough to believe so and to present it so. The Devil strode through the hallways, a faint smile across his face. He had prepared his case well, as far as he knew he was safe in these surroundings, he had been reasonably well entertained so far...Yes, the Don was happy. As far as Cornugons could be happy, anyway.

Just before the doors opened, Radovan had closed his eyes briefly. It had been a while since he and the Drow woman had met, so he swiftly recalled how he had addressed her. Most political figures, and especially the Drow in their matriarchal society, were sticklers for the proper etiquette and right now, he couldn't have her mad at him from the get-go. No looking at her directly was the most important. Being polite in these situations was something the Devil remembered easily. Aeons back, his blood had burned fiercely and he was still a warrior at heart, but he enjoyed the slow, political game more and more.

After the doors had opened fully, he risked a quick glance into the throne room before looking at the fine carpets again. Not looking at Drow matriarchs was all fine and dandy, but he wouldn't avert his gaze so much as to trip over any unexpected obstacles.

Radovan visibly cheered up after hearing this. As fast as he could manage, which was to say, within seconds, the Devil finished his game with the servant, gave her a curt smile and turned to the guard.

"Excellent news! No reason to keep her waiting, then. Let's go."

Though the card games weren't exactly as high stakes as Radovan was accustomed to, the servant provided pleasant distractions with the other card games she knew. Some was won, some was lost, but most importantly, the Devil wasn't bored. Waiting for an appointment could last an eternity, and although he had such time, he'd rather spend his time at least active. The drink was accepted without as much as a second glance; the Don was too immersed in the game. The only thing that'd distract him, would be the news his appointment was up.

For a few moments, the Devil said nothing, intently shuffling the cards. But once he seemed satisfied, Radovan smiled and looked at the servant.

"Well, what card games do you know? Do you know card poker?"

Now and then, the Don glanced towards the door, wondering how long it would take before the requested drink would arrive.

"As said, figured as much. I'd appreciate it if one or two would be send over, yes. But I believe that fellow over there can start."

Radovan took a seat, took his pack of cards from one of his belt pouches and started to shuffle the stack. Even a quick glance at the cards revealed what could be called uncommon designs. Skulls, gore, Devils, Demons and even Dragons all featured heavily. Looking expectedly at the others, especially the servant, the Devil waited.

"And a drink wouldn't go amiss, either."

As he started walking, following the two other guards to the guest rooms, Radovan smirked.

If you had spend any amount of time with the Don, you'd know this; though capable of feats of great anger and with an iron clad exterior when needed to remain calm, he was surprisingly amiable for a Devil. Of course, plenty of scholars would agree that this was normal for his kind, a façade to lure one into a contract, but, as it is said, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

The smirk was accompanied by a quip, as Radovan casually tapped one of his pockets and spoke in a conversational tone.

"An hour? I take it you two fine gents don't have time for a game of cards?"