"You may cower in fear, but I will bathe in their blood!"

"You may cower in fear, but I will bathe in their blood!" E'oth'ian could barely contain his rage as he floated before the Triumvirate. He well might be one of the Diluted, but by the Tides, he was still Atlantian!

D'Noss, Lord White and Speaker of the Triumvirate, leaned forward from the Table of Three and spoke, his voice mystically amplified through the air-to-water barrier that shimmered between them. "You will do no such thing, Guard of the Pterois Order.  We-" the immaculately dressed and manicured member of the oldest of the Altantian bloodlines motioned towards his two nearly identical companions, "-have things well in hand. We are in the midst of a peace treaty with the Esoteric Order of Dagon and their Deep Ones. These are concerns which are far above your station." There was no direct threat of any kind. Nothing spoken that could be implied as menacing at all. And yet, each syllable uttered by D'Noss dripped with the blood of malice and omen.

"You sit upon your dry thrones, thinking dry thoughts and contemplating dry actions while we die daily at the hands of these abominable fiends! Your safety is bought hourly by the blood of those you deem beneath you and I will harbor it no longer!" E'oth'ian knew that his words were tantamount to a death sentence, but it did not matter. He could no longer bear to live and draw water over gills while his kinsmen were used as pawns in bloody, endless game. The Pteroisian Guardsman whipped his powerful tail and shot away from the Chamber of Courts, the most ancient and sacred of all places in Atlantis.

E'oth'ian could hear the cries of alarm and warning spouting from D'Noss has he sped from the water-and-air filled chamber. Part of him wished he could see the Lord of Atlantis, as he deemed himself, in an "undignified and non-composed state"...the high-minded and high-bred rulers of his city placed so much importance on maintaining their appearances of perfection that it often bordered on lunacy. Well, no matter, he thought as he drew his long, elegant blades--known as villias--if he could not see D'Noss's panic-stricken face, then perhaps at least the other Diluted might.

For E'oth'ian, only one thing remained now. To put to the blade as many of the hated Deep Ones as he could...and to destroy forever the twisted Esoteric Order of Dagon....

Art Source: "Merman Deep Warrior" (c)/by MorkarDFC
Story and Characters: (c)/by Brannon Hollingsworth

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