The Ward & the Bone 3
Far to the East the sinister Phelyon sorceress Corgin Le Fay, one of the last survivors of her species, storms through the halls of her crumbling keep, Cage Dryfude.
“JESTER! Bring me wine, right MEOW!” the Phelyon shrieks, pointing her razor-sharp claw toward the empty bowl by her decaying throne.
“Right away, m’Lady, right away!” A hunchbacked gopher shouts, hurriedly making his way to fill the dish with a 5th Age Furlot, a dry red wine harvested from grapes of a realm long since past.
“Much better,” Corgin meows, leaning down to flick her stubbled tongue into the liquid, lapping it up in haste. “Now…where were we?” She asks, peering down at the table of constituents seated before her.
Following the War of the Realm, the Phelyons were forced into exile, carrying with them the same feeling of defeat and despair they had strewn upon the Realm just years before. The sorceress, however, refused to accept such failure. Witnessing the fall of the Phelyons before her very eyes, she vowed at a very young age to return the Phelyons to their prior place of prosperity.
Scooting his chair back so he can stand and address the matriarch, a gopher known as Gosef of Hairymathea boldly speaks his mind.
“M’lady, what you propose is impossible! The Kaynines have ruthlessly cut down all opposition to their false claims of honor! The entire Realm has become plagued; brainwashed by their notions of equality and classless hierarchy! What you ask of us is simply not achievable!”
Expecting such a reaction, Lady Corgin stands on all fours, pacing back and forth, tail raised high and butthole exposed for many moments. She then calms into a soft, rhythmic purr as she reassumes her position on the throne.
“Your concerns are those of a defeated, weak gopher who falsely claims the title of Lord, Gosef. You will soon learn of what has been brewing behind the scenes, buried deep within the darkest chasms of the scratchposts of Cage Dryfude. You have no idea what’s been going on in there, for all you see are the tiny holes carved outside which expose me only when I deem it appropriate. You will ALL soon learn of my plans!”
Sadistically rubbing her paws together, Lady Corgin leans back in her throne, watching her obedient subjects look upon her with perplexed and admiring expressions.
“Soon,” she meows. “Verrrrrrrry soon.”
How the World Should Work 