An unpleasant interruption (Kalista)

[Otho Sarus]

The great south windows were as black as soot, as the darkness of the night almost seemed to claw at the light that came from within, blotting out the stars and moon. The night was entirely black, but within the hall the great fire roared merrily, bathing the immense room in soft, flickering orange light and the great doors to the hall were guarded by men in ornate battle armour, keeping the assembled guests safe from any harm that might befall them - though that was near impossible in the great keep.
The sound of the crackling embers was drowned out however by the chatter of the guests seated about the three long tables in the centre of the hall, dining on whatever exquisite and equally rediculous dish took the fancy of their over inflated ego's. At the top end of the hall nearest to the great south widows another long table stood, but around this table sat the higher ranking flunkies and floozies, royal staff of all sorts, but most importantly the Queen of Karador herself. Her bodyguard was nowhere to be seen, but one could be certain he was nearby, as ever.
It was with no amount of subtlety, guile or tactfulness that the sorcerer made his appearance in the great south hall. Suddenly a great thunderclap echoed about the hall, silencing the chatter and banter. The guests, staff and servants were glancing about avidly for the source of the noise, the floozies having dropped their flippant meals across their equally flippant clothing.
The source of the disturbance was quite apparent, and many had already caught site of this interesting development. Many gazed inanely in the direction of the Queen's table, as now a figure stood before her where one had not been before. An old man clad in robes of flowing purple stood before the Queens seat in front of the royal table, but there seemed to be an odd shimmer in the air about him. As the onlookers squinted to see clearly they saw that the old man was wreathed in violet flame, running the length of his cloak, staff and even his beard.

"How dare you, vile magician, guards seize him!" One of the higher ranking flunkies near the queens table appeared to have recovered his wits enough to stand and shout some sort of insult or order at the unusual arrival. The floozy had taken a gamble hoping to gain favour and move up the ranks by being the first to denounce the intruder, but sadly he failed miserably.
The purple clad sorcerer gestured in the direction of the flippant courtier, and without warning what might have at one point been boiled lobster exploded in his face, knocking him backwards into his seat and leaving him covered in a dull pink paste, and leaving a stunned expression on his face.

"Sit Down, Idiot" Otho spat, glaring briefly before turning back to face the Queen, still wreathed in violet flame. "Your Majesty, I apologise, but we must speak now, in private - it is of utmost import". Otho said, concealing a wink and a smile in Kalista's direction. He needed to let her know what was happening, and she needed to know now. The darkness that he had felt before was growing, and it was growing more and more like the darkness he remembered from eons ago - the darkness that was the demons, the unchained. It had to be stopped, and although the sorcerer had held his ground against the darkness once before, if they were to be sure of catching and stopping the necromancer and his new found pet they would need all of the help they could get.

[Diala]

Kalista sat at the head table; a most pasted-on smile on her lips as she picked at her plate full of food she suddenly couldn’t stomach the thought of eating. Her onyx eyes peered over the long table full of those little Kinglets and their evil little wives who backstabbed and clawed at one another trying to gain her appreciation, not a single one knowing that they disgusted the very one they sought to impress. The ones sitting in the closest proximity of the Queen and Overlord of the Realm known as Karador, had no idea that she’d most rather be dining with those peasants down the road a few miles than dinning here with the likes of them.

Kalista winced slightly, outwardly, just before there was a slight disturbance in the hall. The moment he entered, she knew who it was and the Mighty Queen of Karador suddenly found that she would have to take on the hard task of not bursting out in laughter at the way the new arrival had treated one of the biggest little Kinglets in the Realm. She listened to his plea for a private meeting with her, and knew that, despite his outward appearance, this man would have never saved her from a dinner with her ‘loyal’ subjects unless there was good cause, and as well, that churning in her stomach was more than a disgust of the people surrounding the Queen, there was something happening in her walls, something her sensitive mind had felt personally as she sat and tried to dine that evening.

“Carry on, and please, excuse me, I will not be returning.” She said curtly to the stuffed shirts about the table as she rose to her feet and, with unhidden relief, followed Otho from the dining hall.

Kalista waited until they had passed through the hall and into the corridor before speaking. When she did, there was no joviality in her motions or her voice, she knew she wasn’t going to like what was coming.

“What is it Old Wolf?” She asked in such a trained manner of words that it was as if she was simply taking a breath as she addressed this sorcerer.

[Otho Sarus]

As they left the great hall Otho raised one hand and made some obscure gesture in no particular direction. At that the halls of the keep seemed to fall silent and still, the light took on a peculiar shade of grey and the air became hazy and thick. In the hall behind them, the courtiers, kinglets and all of the assembled guests seemed to stare blankly in their direction, not moving, not blinking, not even breathing, whilst the flames that burned brightly on the torches that littered the walls of the keep were still, as if frozen solid like the people about them.
The old sorcerer had known that they were short of time, and that every second mattered and for that reason he had taken action to give them longer to talk. Although it was impossible to create time, it was not impossible to avoid it - and that was exactly what Otho had done. The Queen and the sorcerer now stood outside of time, in a world that existed in space only, but they could not remain here. Those that dwelt too long in this place never returned to reality as we knew it, and if they did, they were never themselves.
Any who saw them would not know that this conversation had taken place, in fact all of the goings on here would happen in less than a fraction of a second, though it was far from a pleasant place to be.
Otho's face was drawn, and concern was evident on his time worn features. He looked at Kalista with eyes that belied the severity of their situation and the weight of the actions they were about to take.

"Kalista, I don't know whether you remember this place from your childhood, or whether you have been here since, but being here will give us the time we need to prepare, and to save your people - though we cannot linger here too long." Otho sighed before drawing a deep breath.
"Kal, our worst fears have come to pass, and it seems that Kaldryn is no longer the sum of our worries. The necromancer who has been plaguing the kingdom seems to have found one of the unchained, and learned how to control it." The old sorcerer ran a calloused hand through his short grey beard and his brows furrowed.
"He's attacking the city and has opened the gates with his new weapon and is raising all of the dead who fall to his pet. He and a growing army of the undead are moving south into the city, as Cassius mobilises the army."

After a short pause Otho spoke again, his stray hand still toying with his short grey beard, "If we are to stop them I will need your help, and we will need the help of all those within the city who are able and willing. Might I be so bold as to suggest you rouse your executioner? She and I have met before, and I know that she can help us, if she is willing. There are more within these walls with the strength to aid us, but I will have a hard time rousing them all." In the hazy half light of this place - 'No-time' as Otho liked to call it - the old mans voice seemed to echo distantly within the emptiness of the darkened halls, making his dire news seem all the more ominous.

[Diala]

Kalista looked around them as things began to loose color, people frozen in their movements and as well, how the flames that lit up the hall they were just presently in, now became unmoving. She remembered well where it was they were at, remembered from her childhood, the lessons Otho had taught her of this void. Her arms wrapped silently about her own waist as a chill ran up her spine, she didn’t like this timeless realm, never had, it always seemed to draw from her the nightmares of what was to come, what had come and seemed to try and take from her who she was. She nodded to him when he asked if she remembered, but that was the only amount of reply he received from his question, he didn’t need more.

“Yes, I figured he would find a way to control the unchained… we can only hope that he doesn’t obtain the means of controlling them all…” She trailed off, her mind working quickly over the question of approaching Diala, she knew the Unchained Executioner would only help, should she find a reason to, and Kalista thought she knew the key to success in obtaining a good reason. “I will approach Diala on the situation, I might be able to persuade her, if nothing else, by offering her a chance to destroy the Master Necromancer.” She stated, without going into details, there really wasn’t time to explain. “As for the remainder of who might help, I am certain I can find what we need, though, I must also make you aware that there is something else at play here, I have felt it, haven’t you? There seems to be a presence I’ve never before felt, a evil presence, behind what is going on at the gates, something beyond the foul Necromancer and his new found puppet.” She stated, tightening her grip about her waist as she spoke. “Tell Cassius, to be careful, he’s going against something he can’t destroy, if that Unchained truly is under the Necromancers thumb then it will be unstoppable by any means of power he might muster. Tell him to hold off until I have roused the Executioner, I fear she may be the only one to aid us against something the likes of the puppet.” She continued, a note of anger flashing in her voice.

Kalista didn’t like what was going on, and if the Necromancer had truly taken control over one Unchained, there was always the problem facing Karador, that he could find a way to control the remaining ones in the realm. She took a long, ragged breath, drawing in through her nose and releasing it slowly out of her lips, her eyes wavering now between crimson and onyx as her temper as well as her fears began to take control.

“The walking dead will be easily enough taken care of, but just keep I mind, that with every man who falls, there will be more to deal with, it seems to me that this Necromancer knows what he’s doing after all, I should not have underestimated him.” She paused and then took another deep breath, remembering her meeting with the man in the church not all too long ago. “He is determined and believes he is right in what he does, his passion for what he believes in makes him a dangerous enemy, I am certain, he has his puppet as passionate about his cause as he, so please Otho, you too be careful.” She stated, her eyes looking at her long time friend, uncle, with worry, though they changed quickly, as she masked her worry with anger once more. “You can be assured that once we mobilize, Kaldryn will as well show his not so pretty face…” She trailed off, not needing to say more on that point, she knew well that Otho would already have set that to mind.