» Fri May 04, 2012 4:36 pm
Vex Bincal, House of Bincal, From Green Emperor's Way to Imperial Palace Lobby; Engaging: Flavius
Quite literally on the shoulders of giants, Vex Bincal entered Green Emperor's Way from the western gate. She was carried by her two bodyguards; one a bare-chested Orc, the other, an burly Nord wearing a heavy chainmail coat with Fighter's Guild markings. As they marched in tandem towards the Imperial Palace, Bincal herself sat wide-eyed and speechless on their shoulders, bewildered by the sight of the imposing Imperial Palace. Despite her time with the Legion, she had only ever seen it from a distance. It was an entirely different experience to see it up close. If you knew her, one might suppose that, right here in the courtyard as she stared up towards the great marble tower, that she was harboring ambitious thoughts of one day ruling from there. But you'd be wrong. If you really, really knew her - that is, if you were her - you'd know that she was simply admiring it for the great phallic object it really is. Bincal might be ambitious, that much is true, but she's also a realist. For now, consolidating her power around Cheydinhal was at the top of her priorities.
"Malk?" she said, addressing the orc, "Has it ever occurred to you that the Palace is just one big giant caaah...?"
"...Commander?" inquired the Nord after Bincal stopped mid-sentence.
"Halt here," she responded, watching a small battalion of well-armed men force their way through the palace doors and into the interior. The men were all dressed in vibrant red armor in the Akaviri style. "Proceed slowly. Looks like some of the other delegates are heavily armed. Could you identify them, Malk?" The Orc didn't answer.
"Breathed and smelled Colovian, Commander," said the Nord.
"Colovian? Well shag my dead mother, it looks like they're on their way to be crowned emperor."
The Nord shrugged, forcing Bincal to grab his hair to keep herself steady.
"They're Colovian, that's what they always look like. Or, at least, what they always feel like."
"Stop here, don't go into the council chambers yet. I'm not ready," said Bincal. They had by now entered through the palace doors into the lobby, where they lingered on Bincal's command. Bincal frustratingly adjusted her mantle and brooch, muttering to herself about "fancy-pants" and "like an idiot". Once she was finished, she looked around the lobby. There was already some blood on the floor, leading from the Council Chamber itself. Otherwise apart from themselves there nothing save for a diminutive looking man praying at one of the benches. It came to her then that they were standing in one of the most sacred places in all of Cyrodiil, and she suddenly felt a little ashamed at her own irreligious-ness. She pulled on the hair of the Nord carrying her so that they turned to face the man, and then she called out to him.
"Who are you praying to?"