Re: Gordon (Sponge)
The soldier nodded and led him away, back to the main foyer and then out into the blizzard.
"Wait!"
Alicia hurried to his side, and threw a fur cloak about his otherwise bare chest to protect his body against the cold. She looked up at him with those sad golden eyes of hers, but he was too angry right now to let her visage distract him. She squeezed his hand once, then let it go.
"I'm sorry, but it's best she wait here," the soldier said, his tone flat and neutral.
Following the soldier through the bitter cold, Gordon followed a snowy, winding path up the edge of a treacherous rocky slope, leaving the mansion of his 'future' behind and walking in the direction of the spiraling tower which loomed above the fortress walls. As they drew closer, Gordon could make out a large attachment to one of the walls - something which resembled a large church. Its doors were carved of ebony, and its stained glass windows were an eerie green and black. Beside it was a large winter garden, where two large trees with iron bands around their bases dwelt at either end of the walled off space. It was through those ebony doors that the soldier took Gordon.
Inside the space was dauntingly large - the high ceiling several stories up. Their footsteps caused a loud echo to ricochet off the large obsidian columns. Ahead of them was an alter made of green marble, and at its center was a basin with a narrow slit at the lowest point, perhaps as some sort of drain. Gordon and his guide passed it by on the left as they headed for a small back door just to the left of a tall podium standing beside a throne.
Beyond this small door, they entered a much more confined space, with a table and several chairs around it. The guard turned to Gordon. "If you'll wait a moment, I'll let Her Grace know that you have arrived."
Turning from him, the soldier moved to another far door opposite to where they were now, and knocked twice, then given a moment, he opened the door and closed it behind him. Perhaps thirty seconds passed before the door opened again and the soldier came back out. Following him out was the large Satyr that Gordon recognized as the one who had been tending to Deana that one time in the Dryad's Grove. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and he smelled heavily of perfumes and incense as he passed Gordon by, an impish grin on his face.
"Her Grace wishes you to come in," the soldier said, indicating the door. "You are to be left alone with her, but I and other guards shall be waiting outside the door." His tone was again neutral, but Gordon wondered only a little at his meaning.
He passed the guard by and found him in a very small antechamber. Two globes of smoky incense burned here, filling the room with a warmth very different from the chill of the large cathedral hall and the winterscape that lay outside. Beyond a second door, he entered into a dark bedchamber. The air was heavily scented and perfumed, and he immediately sensed that there was something slightly mind-altering about the smell.
"Do not worry..." a voice called as though reading his mind, "You will be immune to my scents for the purpose of this visit. I doubt you are in the mood for that sort of thing anyway." The voice was a woman's, as he guessed, and he saw her then, a pale white figure in a snowy silken robe, lying upon a bed with black covers.
She was a fae like figure, her skin the color of cream with just a hint of blue. Her eyes, like the soldier's, were red, and her ears were pointed and elven. Her hair was likewise white and so long it scattered across the dark sheets and seemed as long as she was tall... and tall she indeed was, with a figure that some might attribute to a goddess. Whatever Gordon thought of her, he could not deny that she was beautiful, this dark bishop.
"Welcome to my parlor," she added as she lounged onto her side. "I know what you would say. A lot of indignant vitriol, lambasting me for all that I have done or would do, etcetera, etcetera... if it pleases you, you can say your piece, but know that I'm quite aware of what you think of me at this current point in time. After all, you lack certain information and... perspective. So. Gordon. Savior. Was there anything particular you wanted to say to me before we begin?"
She was lying quite exposed to him, as though she felt no threat to herself. Instinct suggested that a being like this must have some sort of failsafe should he become violent, but it was hard to believe how close she seemed willing to let him come to her.