Entry the third - Admirals Quarters w/Captain

A small flower sat gently on a table near his bed, bound such with grace in its container, supported softly by the caress of the water beneath.
Short spires of green leaves gleamed from the stem as it rose upwards, climbing as a ladder up to the heavens above.
Like a great eruption of a sleeping giant, twice of thrice burst forth from his head in a fusion of radiance and ethereal flower. Fire and the sleeping sun intertwined in a majestic dance of wild embrace. Gentile curve charmed the silken petals through their life to earthen safety, but such as the eldest ones spoke nought they fell. Reaching above forever locked.
In mind rung to simple desires seen beyond the shadow of evils stood a beauty left upon the realm of mortals from ancient times. Spoken through cloud and stars a gentle breeze, purest blossom of snow and wrought despair. Might ever have been blessed, granted freedom of the halls and columns, were it not a fall from perceived grace of those who cared not for all.
Peering beyond, stood thrice of twice and one, reaching to those who would give them hope. But spent the second, that who would have been sired from demon, fury of races aged commanded against from times forgotten. Might have it been rescue given, but were not the smallest flower in a sea of broken time.
Floating through the kingdom of ancients and imperial might of men, wrought from majesty and sweetest music, may it sit through evil deeds, unknowing of all that is fought for, so should it remain.
“They were her favourite, I always kept one wherever I was stationed, even when we were young I had one in my quarters, there was a time when I considered getting it mused onto my arm”
‘Was this before or after your classmates threatened you with an airlock?’
He laughed, the memories of simpler things sweeping away fell things
“Before, but they never did dare take one from its home I will remind you” he said waving a finger.
Smirking back, the captain dared not think what things would have become someone who had dared to do so.
“But, such were things back then, the foolish thoughts of young love, great plans; at one time we would have built a house and left this all behind us”
‘Three stories tall, overlooking a lakeside where you could escape in a boat, I remember the place’ came his return, with a somewhat tired, albeit amused, expression.
Breathing heavily, he turned back down towards the flower, still sitting beneath him, the events behind returning to his fore. Dark deeds slunk through an open gate to him, his eyes moving as if reading a manuscript placed before him in some distant fief.
The air in the room chilled with a sudden clamour to climes elsewhere. The captain shivered, and glanced around as a wave of unease washed over him. Looking upwards the admiral stood with his back to him, his hands grasped around the table edge, speaking as if the captain stood but a Naugrim before him, privy to his most private musings.
‘These words, these accursed words…They stand before me, blithe in their intolerant cruelty. Fealty is cheap amongst those in serve to the sacred ideals of times forgotten. Never shall I grasp them, always they jump, they seethe and slither. They bring with them such power, my thoughts are but mine along, but they…’
Great anger, hatred, betrayal, shared from their torment spread great shadows around the ashen walls, life drained from its clutch into vengeful glass.
‘…they would swear to me, they would make me strong, cast aside crevasses between the feuding parties of the sorrow and fire. Sought is wisdom, let to none, whispered to all.’
Turning, the red anger shining through his eyes threw a cloak around him. Rage welled from within, frothing and bubbling, spat from his lips and twisted into dark things. Rising tall, the man that stood just now lost in his own depths gone, new things stirred and took command, their power growing with each word they stitched into the blackened weave.
‘Beseech I must, an army I shall raise, wastes and desolation will ride before me as the fire behind. All shall know my wrath, I will command legions, my sight shall see all, my hatred will bring fear to all the enemy, kneel in terror before me I will make them, then crush them.
The gods shall not halt me, told by the eldest ones the plots of old, be gone with you and bring me my sword, heathens shall it hew, BE GONE!’

The captain nodded and left, only when the door closed behind him did the madness strike him, like a foul blow to the head. Moving off, lost in his own thoughts, he tried to push everything but the order out of his mind, maybe he could forget that which he did not wish to remember, or at least bury it until this mess was over.



Two main issues with this (beyond the crappy initial description of a flower, which is meant to be a tiger lily, but i couldn't find a good picture), firstly the characters. I don't like the interaction between them at the moment, it seems to...perfect, kinda like everything is ok. They're meant to be good friends going back a long time, but it still doesn't work as well as i want it.
The second issue is that of the word naugrim (in italics). It is elvish for dwarf (meaning short-ones, or to that effect), but at this present moment in the timeframe of the story, there is no knowledge of dwarves.
I could move the framing from before the mission to find the letharians, to after the discovery of earth, which may work better with the raising of the army.
Whatever time it is set, the admiral is already broken, and suffering from severe moodswings. I'm not too sure if i captured that ok, but i've got to come back and alter the rest anyways.