A Skeptical Audience

One of the lackeys Zariah kept around had led Eli into the main meeting room. Though it was elegant and highly ornate for a Hollowed Ground abode, it was far from the sort of grandeur one might have expected. They left him alone in the room to fetch the Queen, who was frankly surprised that anyone had come at all. Very few dared attend her audience hours. And this particular one apparently had little to say. He would hear the click of her heels against the floor well before he saw her. Zariah entered through one of the side doors, head held high, hazel eyes locked on him from the second she entered. She was a small woman - not in height though her wild curls made her look taller than she was - thin limbed with a delicate frame. She wore dark clothing, fitted pants, a plunging neckline, and a jacket with a stand-up collar and exaggerated tails. Her expression was doll-like, a wide eyed expressionless stare that appeared eternally youthful. Yet despite her youthful visage and feminine delicacy, it was clear she was a woman of power. Every fiber of her being exuded it - power, control, strength. She was a predator and no matter his background, no matter his own strengths, she owned all that she laid her eyes on - him included. "Welcome to my home, Eli. What matters might I help you with?" she said, her voice low and smooth as velvet. zariah If it is danger you seek, come on over. I covet tranquility but beget the tempest storm.