Editing Rhionne Post-Yarlug

'''BWXXXIV - Rhionne’s Vision in the Astral Room'''

The room spun momentarily and the Ranger could only see a purple haze in front of his eyes.  Then he felt as though he was dropping, tumbling and spinning in freefall. The purple haze got so dark as to become almost black.  Suddenly, he stopped; his direction of ravel was reversed, lifting him to the lighter shades. A female voice ([[Malask]]) broke into Rhionne’s mind, 

“Your Magnificence, I am truly delighted to have you back on the Prime.” 

“Thank you Queen Malask, those of the Underworld send their greetings,” came the deep, slow, hissed response ([[Rantor]]).

“It is just a shame that you must co-habit with that murdering Oriental underling,” she mused sympathetically.

“Hmmm,” the bass voice hissed, “He is, for the time being, a necessary encumbrance.”

“At least we can watch their moves, my resplendent, crimson, King of Wyrms,” cooed the female, before changing tone, “My friend is concerned that they will gain greater foothold than we would wish in Everinstar.  I have assured him of their enmity for the Lord of Everlost, which appeased him somewhat.”

“There will come a time when I will have the Minas to myself, my Lady, and then we can work more closely – as some of your ancestors did to bring down the House of Dor,” the deep tone bubbled and hissed like lava flowing through a magma tube. “Do not worry about your ally, the Prince of Darkness has oft spoken to me about you – he is impressed by your deeds.”

“It is best to keep the lower planes at arm’s length, your illustriousness, as we do not want their petty rivalries to allow our enemies to disengage.  We have made too much progress for that.”

The bass tone was hesitant for the first time, “Yes my Queen,” it sizzled, quieter than before, “but I am not convinced by the plan.”  Picking up tempo and authority it continued, 

“The Goddess believes it to be Orcus’ intent to take up in Amarsland, leaving your friend to carve up Everinstar.  I think this is very dangerous for you.”

As if to allay its fears, the female sounded determined, almost triumphant in response, “We must crush the Elves of Efferendil and my Northern ancestors before I can wield true power on the Prime and for that, I need help – Malor serves us well, even if his minion made a grave mistake.”

“The Mage he sent managed to carry out the task it is true,” mused the coarse, low-pitched voice.

“Yes, and his armies keep my treacherous relatives holed up well,” she stated confidently. Then, changing the subject, and adopting a less certain tone the female asked, “Did the Goddess know how Orcus would chose to travel to the Prime?”

“No, my dear Lady,” he sighed.

“The Duergar will not let him pass Locklastar,” she mused, “my friend holds Zundar, and I have granted his servant access to Amarsland.”

“And to where will the Gnoll Lord roam?”

“Vorsaykarai, I understand; he has been ordered to assist with our offensive against the Elves, once he has thrown out what is left of the Orientals.”

“Then I would prepare yourself my Queen; as I said, this plan is dangerous.”

“Perhaps it would be best if we stood to one side, should the Lord of Everlost follow the Lord of Gnolls,” mused the Queen, “but that would not please our ally.”

“In this case, I think he would understand; that is, if I spoke with him.”

“Would you my champion?  Would you? That would be so very considerate,” cooed the female again.

“For you, my Queen, yes.  It will not be long before we can join our strengths and destroy the Prime-dwellers forever.”