Lady Margaux gripped the reigns of her horse tightly. The ship ride was relatively quick and uneventful, having sailed with all due haste to arrive in a timely manner. Margaux could not kid herself in the knowledge that she was deeply nervous, if not outright afraid. This was the capital of Sheol, the home of the Great-Father, the center of Archon Irkalla's power. She had been invited, but such an invitation also brought with it great responsibility and scrutiny. The looming walls of the black stone seemed to eat up any light that came down from the sky, and with them, rose the imposing towers of Maweth. Taking a deep breath, Margaux beckoned her mount onwards, flicking the reigns and digging her heels in. She was finally here, and it was time to prove that she was just as loyal and dutiful as any of the other children of the Great-Father.

She cast a side long look to Sir Armond, thankful to have him at her side. Along with her protector, rode a small retinue of forty-four more Crimson Reavers, all that she dared to bring with her. These soldiers were only meant to protect her if the need arose, and she surely hoped that such would not be needed. Looking away from her vassal, and back to Maweth, Margaux and her forces pressed onward, the foreboding citadel growing larger with each passing minute. It wouldn't be long before they arrived at the main gate to the capital, and would have to gain entry into the fortified complex. 'Lets hope the gate guards aren't in a bad mood, I would hate to be late to my first day of helping oversee Sheol while the Great-Father is away.' Margaux thought silently to herself as she and her retinue neared the Gates of Maweth.

Sir Armond rode ahead of the group, the rest having stopped the usual distance from the gates to allow their herald to speak with the guardsmen and gain permission to enter. "Hail, Guardsmen of Maweth, I come forth to speak for Lady Margaux, of the Rubis Isle, loyal subject of the Great-Father. She has been summoned by the Great-Father himself to conduct matters of State within the capital. We request permission to proceed." Sir Armond spoke aloud to the guards at the gate house. He held the letter of summons sent out by the Great-Father's steward, in case the guards needed evidence of what he said to be true. 

The contingent of guards positioned at Maweth's southern gate was relatively minimal. Merely a half-dozen men with spears and black breastplates on the ground, and another half-dozen in the towers above with crossbows. Sheol's land routes were sparse, unpaved and rarely traveled, given the ubiquity of port cities around the island. That said, they were still ideal for an arriving noblewoman who wished to arrive inconspicuously. The guards glanced at each other, to Margaux and her retinue, and back to each other, before shrugging and signalling for the gate to be raised.

"Maweth welcomes you." Called out one of the guards. "Shall we bolster your forces with a contingent of our own on your ride to the palace?"

With the guards signal to open the gates, Sir Armond beckoned the rest of Lady Margaux's retinue to proceed forward. He wheeled his horse about, the creature flaring its nostrils as the gate creaked upwards. He looked to the guard who called out, pondering the question before shaking his head. Lady Margaux would not want to misuse nor waste resources of the Great-Father, and she had grown up here in the capital, she'd be able to find her way. "No thank you, we shall be able to manage. Lady Margaux would not wish to waste your time with escorting us. She is thankful for your offer, but we shall proceed with all due haste, and not take up anymore of your time." Sir Armond spoke politely, if not a bit commanding, as the Crimson Reaver's rode by. He nodded his head towards the guards, before riding off to rejoin the side of his liege lady.

Lady Margaux nodded to the guards as she rode by, at the center of her small retinue of soldiers. She steeled herself for the reunions she'd have to endure once reaching the central spire and holdfast of the citadel. She turned her focus back to the task at hand, riding her horse at a brisk pace, and not falling into the probably dirty streets. "That went easier than I had assumed, but I will not dwell on it Sir Armond. Let us hurry and make for the palace. We are expected, and I know that I will have to get to work right away." Lady Margaux spoke to Sir Armond as he rejoined her. Together with her loyal soldiers, Lady Margaux made good time to the palace, arriving just past midday.


-Royal Palace of Maweth-

Lady Margaux swung herself off from her horse, brushing the dust from the rode from her garments, taking the time to adjust them, before looking to the main doors of the palace. 'Home...' She thought to herself, smiling slightly, before making her way across the courtyard towards the awaiting figures. From here, she was not sure who they could be, but just by the way they held themselves, their posture, spoke of more "pure-blooded" children of the Great-Father. Her retinue was busy dismounting themselves, seeing to their gear and stabling their mounts. It fell to her, Sir Armond, and three other Crimson Reavers to meet with the representatives of the Great-Father, and see who they were, and how best to serve the Great-Father. 

Waiting them stood Sibari, her white hair and pale skin contrasting strongly with her dark gowns in the midday sun, and four Sanguine Guards, all in glimmering gold-and-ebony rainments, their sheathed swords barely visible beneath their crimson cloaks. Members of the Coven all, the Guards glowered at Margaux's own Reavers, but Sibari's expression remained neutral, bordering on appearing disinterested in the ordeal.

"Welcome, Lady Margaux," She greeted the Exarch, bowing gracefully with her arm tucked under her. "We hope that your journey was free of difficulty." Her gowns seemed to have been designed with folds and swaths of fabric to conceal her right side, and perhaps suggest the presence of a limb there, but Margaux knew the truth. This was like many things in Sheol; gilt and prestige concealing deep scars and terrible pain. 

Lady Margaux returned Sibari's bow, taking the time and effort to ensure it was as prim and proper as possible. Sibari was probably one of the more tolerable member's of the Great-Father's court, though Margaux still held her reservations towards the Great-Father's Steward. As she finished her bow, Margaux thought back to her own childhood, growing up as a ward of the Great-Father. Being one of the "bastard-brood" as the "pure-bloods" put it, she dealt with more than her fare share of ridicule and harassment. But, that was the past, and this was now. She looked at the Sanguine Guards, their imposing presence and no doubt blood purity another piece of the hierarchy that separated Margaux and her subjects from mainland Sheol. "Lady Sibari, I came with all due haste. Let us not keep you waiting any longer. I am correct in assuming that you would like to get straight to business, as usual?" Margaux asked calmly, looking to the woman who stood before her.

Margaux begrudgingly admired the quality of Sibari's gowns. They were certainly very finely made, and did their part in hiding Sibari's unfortunate loss of limb. Even though their pasts were not exactly one of friendship or direct kindness, she still felt sadness towards this woman. She was going to serve the Great-Father proudly on the field of battle, striking down his enemies and foes, yet fate intervened to steal away a limb. She let out a small sigh, before standing fully upright, her hands clasped behind her in the small of her back, awaiting Sibari's direction and command for the next move.

"Of course," she said, he voice still carrying an airy quality that smacked of dispassion. "If you would follow us..." Sibari turned about, walking from the courtyard into the archway that led back into the obsidian depths of the palace. The Sanguine Guards at her side all turned simultaneously to follow, no doubt still attempting to impress the idea of their superiority to Margaux's Reavers.

The halls of the palace were much the same as Margaux remembered from her childhood. Cold, black stone, as far as the eye could see. Only somehow, it seemed colder, and even more forbidding. She had not been in Maweth at the time of the Betrayal, as she had been busy defending her own holdings from the forces of the Ivory Dragon. But she could see plainly that even fifty years later the damage dealt was still felt. Maweth felt less like a monument to the Great-Father's glory, and more like a memorial of the city's former beauty.

Sibari gave Margaux a loose run-down of relevant information as they walked. "The palace's facilities are at your disposal, and the servants will attend to you as they would the Great-Father himself. We would only ask that both yourself and you men steer clear of the Seventh and Sixteenth Towers, as they have been deemed forbidden." The Seventh Tower was the Great-Father's own personal quarters and vaults, and so that much made sense. But the Sixteenth Tower was the nursery, where Margaux herself had been raised. Strange. "You will of course be roomed in the diplomat's quarters in the Fifth Tower. I will relocate to the room under yours so that I may assist you more easily, and I can have your men put up in the western barracks." Lodging for the common guards of the palace that were not of the Blood Host. Predictable.

They turned a corner, and Margaux was brought face to face with a sight she had nearly forgotten for more than sixty years. An imposing iron doorway, leading into the throne room of the Great-Father. They stepped within, following Sibari closely, but Margaux and her men both could not keep themselves from marveling at the sight. Priceless artwork, trophies from the Conquest of the North, tributes from vassals and supplicants the Great-Father. This was what Margaux had remembered about Maweth, and it was as comforting to behold as it was intimidating. Of course, the crown jewel of it all was the Sanguine Throne. It was even larger than she remembered, as it had grown by leaps and bounds during the purges following the Betrayal. The crystalline mass of blood and magic practically radiated power and opulence, casting a crimson light on the rest of the room.

Sibari gestured to the throne, a greater ruby than any that had been dug up from Margaux's home. "Come, my Lady. You will sit the throne."

Margaux politely listened to everything Sibari had to say. She was colder than Margaux last remembered, yet time changes everyone. She followed the steward on her tour throughout the various hallways and passages, making sure to take note mentally of everything she was told and informed of. In the back of her mind, Margaux thought that something was odd in how much leeway she was being given, or rather, delegated power and privilege. She did not question Sibari through her briefing, allowing the woman to fully speak her mind. Margaux kept close, until they finally arrived at the massive iron doors that led into the throne room. Being away from the throne itself made the sight all the more beautiful. The crimson red of the shimmering crystal reflected and refracted the light in a dazzling manner. Her men and herself stood in awe for a few moments, no doubt looking like country bumpkins, before Margaux shook her head and returned to reality. It was something that Sibari said that brought it all home once again.

"No, Lady Sibari. I am not worthy to sit the Throne, nor would I dare to transgress the seat of the Great-Father. We will have a simple wooden table and chairs set up in order to meet with those who seek an audience with the Great-Father." Margaux spoke with unshakable conviction and authority. "If there is one thing I remember growing up here, was that no one other than the Great-Father himself may sit the Sanguine Throne. Only fools and traitors dare to usurp the rightful bastion and symbol of the Great-Father's authority. A table and chairs will suffice for us both, in order to serve as temporary advisors for matters of state until the return of the Great-Father, where we will be released from these temporary duties." Margaux strode to the center of room, looking about at the centralized power of Sheol and that of the Great-Father.

"We both are loyal servants of the Great-Father, regardless of the nature of our blood purity." She turned to look back at Sibari. "No doubt you were tasked to help me out, much to your irritation to have a 'Bastard-Brood' delegated a position of authority above yours. I would also assume you were tasked in ensuring I didn't get too big for my own shoes, and to report any foolishness directly to the Great-Father. I am going to stop your right now and here. I am not a little girl anymore, able to be picked upon and bullied. I am certainly not some fool you can trick into damning myself and betraying my loyalty to the Great-Father." Margaux crossed the room to stand before Sibari, lowering her tone to one that only the two women would be able to hear, "You have served the Great-Father with honor and distinction for decades, cut the petty and paltry games of children, and be an adult. I expect you to be here tomorrow morning by the eighth bell, we will work together whether you like it or not, 'pure-blood'." Margaux spoke with a tone of irritation and dismissal, turning on her heel and leaving Sibari and her Sanguine Guards to their own devices.

"I can find my own way to my rooms, and will see to it myself the quartering of my retinue. Remember, wooden table, chairs, plain but able to be sat in comfortably for hours. See you tomorrow at eighth bell." Margaux said aloud as she left the Throne Room. 

The throne room left empty but for Sibari and her guards, she sighed heavily, brushing back her hair. "I had been worried about this. She has too much to prove." She spoke aloud, seemingly to no one.

From the shadows stepped out an imposing figure, tall and strong-shouldered, with a dark cloak that made him seem all the more menacing. The man was Prince of Maweth, Nirgal Irkalla. He stroked his white beard with an ivory hand gilded with rings. "There's not yet cause for alarm, Sibari. We merely need to remind  dear Maggie that her duty must come before her pride. She will serve Father yet." He smiled, but a certain coldness remained in his red eyes. 

-Two Weeks Later, the Throne Room.-

To say that Margaux and Sibari got along would be a lie, but over the past two weeks, Margaux at least had tried to be less confrontational, in order to better serve the Great-Father. No doubt to Sibari's irritation and patience, Margaux learned all she could from the Great-Father's Steward, at least what one could learn in two weeks time. She busied herself with any and all work that was a matter of state. Always in the back of Margaux's mind was the fear that she might overstep herself, that she might abuse the powers that had been delegated to her, but at least so far, she hadn't done so, or so she hoped. Sibari was an enigma, but what could be expected from the "Pure-Blood" castes. They had always held themselves in higher regard, and Margaux herself was a relative newcomer, and an outsider who held a high rank, at least on paper. 

Letting forth a sigh, Margaux pushed away the thoughts of loneliness and solitude. Aside from Sir Armond, she had next to no one to speak to. The aristocrats in the capital were loathe to associate with a "Bastard-Brood", and made a point of going out of their way to avoid Margaux. 'They can all drown on their refined and pure blood... they'll never be as loyal as I am to the Great-Father...' Margaux thought to herself as she finished sealing a Letter of Marque for a pirate captain hoping to curry favor with the Great-Father. No sooner had Margaux finished setting down the royal seal, a solitary old man in a heavy, hooded cloak had entered the room. He did not move hastily, but there was distinct purpose in his step, and he approached the two of them quite boldly, without announcing himself.

"I have a missive from the Great-Father," He said, in a rasping, heavily-accented voice. The man placed an unsealed letter on the table before them, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Arrived this morning. He calls for war."

"Sibari... " Margaux paused, looking at the old man. She bit her lower lip, not sure as how to proceed, thrown off balance now by this mysterious newcomer and his news that war was being called. Maybe he was a spy for the Great-Father, he surely had them, but the man seemed different than some eavesdropper or thief. Taking a quick breath, Lady Margaux thought it prudent to ask perhaps the obvious to everyone else but her. "Who are you, sir, and why is this letter unsealed?" She hoped that she was not digging her own grave, and looked down to the letter before her, carefully reading it while she awaited the old man's response and hopefully that of Sibari as well.

The man said nothing in response to Margaux's questions, instead facing squarely in Sibari's direction. His expression, hidden mostly by his hood, was utterly inscrutable. Glancing between the man and Margaux, Sibari eventually looked up at him as simply said, "Thank you, Master Vosk. We will follow through on this; I'm sure you have your own duties to attend to." The man, apparently addressed as Master Vosk, bowed curtly, and left the room as promptly as he had arrived. Sibari looked down at the letter on the table, not yet reading it, with a somewhat pained expression. "That..." She began tersely, "Was Mirko Vosk, the Great-Father's spymaster. Forgive his... eccentricities, my lady. He is slow to trust, as you might expect."

Margaux quietly leaned back in her chair, resting her hands in her lap. She looked to the direction in which Master Vosk had entered and left, and felt smaller because of it, felt as though she had seen a scion of death, and was graced to remain alive. Whatever rumors, tales, and whispers she heard, they were not nearly as terrifying as the real man was. "I'm sorry..." Margaux said softly, barely above a whisper. "I defer to your experience in this matter Lady Sibari." Margaux looked to the letter once again, knowing that it was true and real as the air she inhaled, or the wood of the table before her. She moved her right hand forward to move the letter closer for Lady Sibari's inspection. "What shall we do, Lady Sibari?"

Sibari reached over to pick the letter up, reading it carefully, herself. "The Great-Father predicted these eventualities a few months ago. Much of the war mustering is already complete, we merely need to mobilize our forces. Lord Nirgal and I will contact the masters of the Seven Hosts. I will send a missive to Lady Rubedo so that she might arm and ready Barzak's privateer fleets. We will also have to arrange a missive to Master Bloodhook to ensure that he relocates the Forever Worm to Charce." She set the letter down, closed her eyes for a moment, and reopened them to look squarely at Margaux. "All you need do is keep Sheol safe and Maweth running smoothly, my lady. That is what the Great-Father, and all of us here, need of you."

Lady Margaux nodded, taking a deep breath to collect her wits about her. "It would seem that you have everything already taken care of. Thank you Lady Sibari. I will ensure that I will not falter in my delegated duties to continue to the day to day operations of Sheol. I do appreciate your help... I hope you realize that... " She paused, looking back out across the room. She adjusted her clothes, and fixed her hair, before looking back at Sibari, "Well, shall we continue with our duties, and keep things running smoothly?" 

"Of course, my lady." Sibari nodded somberly. Then, just for a moment, her usual disaffected demeanor slipped, and the slightest hint of her soul was able to shine through her emerald eyes. "I only wish to serve the Great-Father, in all things. I owe him my life, as same as you." Those green eyes were the human part of Sibari. The part of her that was not part of the Coven, the trials and rituals of blood, and the cult of the Great-Father. But just as soon as it had slipped, the facade snapped back into place, and Sibari's expression of disinterest resumed. "I will contact Lord Nirgal and begin writing the missives. Will you be needing anything before I become too busy? Communion perhaps?"