The Feast before the Throne
In the hall that housed the Ruby Throne the most distinguished of Ruga's warriors had settled down for their grand feast. Those who had distinguished themselves in the battle that day against the great Tsaeci sorcerer, (who was being roasted over a vast fire) were at his side. The youngest an Imperial Youth who had pledged himself to the Pariah King, the oldest an ancient Orc who had seen at least ninety winters. Despite the lack of good ale and an abundance of sour wine, the warriors both within and without that hall reveled in their victory. The first taste of proper combat they had had since leaving Skyrim. Behind all sat the Ruby Throne, now barred by an erected Orichalcum fence.
The air was filled with the smell of roast snake and roaring laughter when one of the sentries, a one eyed man with a grusome burn scar entered, immediately making the man at the center rise. "Chief."
At the heart of the long line of seats, the Chief of Chiefs raised his hand. "Speak."
"The lizard wishes to talk." The cyclops said, gesturing behind him to where, just outside the door Ruga could see glowing yellow eyes.
He scoffed, talking to the woman far behind his sentry. "Then come in to talk! We have much roast and wine to share!"
The Sentry gave one look back to the Argonian and departed, as soon as he was out of sight, the dark scaled Argonian stepped in. Most ignored her, though the men and women about Ruga, especially his wives glared.
"Ruga." She said.
To which, the Chief rose from his cushion. "Indeed." He said, walking about the assembled feast and his warriors to Shadowtail. "What is it you wish to discuss Dov-Rider?"
"This." She raised a letter with a familiar Dunmer seal. "I trust you've received word yourself?"
The orc let out a bellowing laugh. "I sense you do not wish to retreat from our prize?" He placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her out of the Throne room, and after they had stepped out into the Imperial Palace hall, his voice fell to a whisper. "That is fair, and I will not remove you from this place."
"You won't?"
He continued walking as the pensive Argonian stopped. "As far as I am concerned, this place belongs to no man until they have proven themselves before me." Ruga turned, and though he towered over he did not loom. "You speak, you say you represent the common people. This... Is good." The orc flicked his hand. "I care not for those who live without strength, they enjoy the law and nothing more. For those who seek dominion however, I shall remain. No boy king, not even the favored of Kyne will enjoy this seat. Not without getting through me."
The Argonian turned her head, silent for a long moment. "To what end?"
"Is it not obvious?" Ruga asked. "I came to this land as I was asked here by Malach himself, to claim that Ruby Throne if I could. If I am strong enough, endure those with strength, then I shall bring about a new age as its lord."
"If." Shadowtail muttered. "You are a skilled warrior but..." Her grasp tightened on Lilinah's letter. "Why? That only serves to make you a target, even to your fellows."
Ruga shrugged, as if she were asking him about the weather. "If I am killed in battle? I am killed. If I am slain in the back then such treachery will poison whatever age follows."
"And if you are killed in such an 'honorable' duel?"
"Then my killer shall have the strength worthy of the Throne." The Orc said. "It is simple, is it not?"
"To the point of Crudeness." Kasha murmered.
To which, Ruga clapped. "Good! Now, join me! You have fought beside me, and I sense dealing with your letters had left you weary." Before the Argonian could speak, much less refuse he wrapped a hand about her shoulder and pulled her back into the hall he now claimed to guard. "Someone get this woman some Ale!"