The clack of iron talons of her heels was felt but not heard, as she stepped through the cold stone corridor. She smiled, she felt at home within this fortress of her’s. All of whims, all of her desires we accepted without question, most of the time The brazers that lined the corridor dimmed as she strutted forward in her disgusting low quality disguise, but that was what prison residents were wearing, a burlap blanket that she fashioned into a cloak.
A large oaken door branded with age and iron stood in the way before it. the darkness in the corners loomed as if they were alive. With a wave of a hand and a dash of intent, the door groaned open into the abyss.
What was behind was a stone staircase littered with skulls coiling down into the darkness. The air was damp with moisture and thick with the taste of minerals clogging the throats of all who walked down there, unwilling or not. She wrinkled her nose in discomfort but forged down into the abyss. She was here for a reason. Finally, she would taste some cold revenge.
She finished her musings and went to the end of the prison corridor passing the poor wretches that found themselves here. They probably pissed off her, or her monsters for one reason or another, or it could be a new shipment of slaves for the breaking. It didn’t matter.
She walked into the cell right next to the last one, one slightly below max security. The jagged adamantite bars flickered with arcane light, acknowledging her presence before switching to the ruby red of all the other occupants, a simple disguise that should fool her most recent capture. She was waiting for this for years after all.
She got as comfortable as she could and then began managing her fortress from a distance; it wouldn't do to let her minions do as they wanted without supervision after all.
After a few hours of waiting, a bloody well muscled white bearded dwarf was dragged in by a pair of vampires and shoved into the cell next to her, they didn't even notice she was there, perfect.
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Her blue eyes peeked into the cell, peering at the dwarf, she glanced to make sure the vampires were very far back off their patrol. “What happened to you?” *she said, her voice just loud enough to get into the cell next to her.
It took several moments before the dwarf got off the ground, he grunted and didn't even acknowledge her words. He limped over to the cot and picked up the burlap blanket and shook it out before he wrapped himself in it.
“What’s it look like to you? Little lass.” the gruff baritone that seemingly all dwarves had rumbled through the air. She stepped closer to the bars and her hood down and revealed her face. Raven hair that fell down in locks to her shoulders, a soft round face with several freckles adorned her nose, to finish it off red pouty lips. She tugged on her spiked leather collar as her eyes searched his face for any sort of recognition. She saw none.
“Like you got your ass kicked Mr.dwarf, seems like you put up a fight.”
“Aye, that’s the least I could do.” he nodded. “My names Varrik little hin. What’s your name?”
She felt fury that slept in her gut. Did he really not even know who she was? Was his apathy so far gone he couldn't remember her begging for help ten years ago? When she came into his fortress, in the bonds of drow slavery She still remembered those words even now “well, if you really wanted to be free, then you would do what it took to be free. That's on you.”
She couldn't believe it and weaved a spell behind her back to weaken and read his thoughts.
There was no recognition at all within his head.
None. Her most important day was Tuesday for him.
She would break him, this dwarf; she would break Commander Varrik of the Hawkin.
Her fury reached the corners of her mouth as she gave a smile. She flared her magic which melted her disguise showing off her royal regalia. Skulls floated around her as her purple aura gave off a feeling of dread and majesty.
Varrik’s eyes widened in surprise as he finally remembered.
“ Breezy Fenberry, Queen of the Undead.”
Only a monster could rule down here.