Rather plump hands grasped around the leg-bone sticking out of the huge slab of meat before bringing it up to a pudgy face. Keeper Nelfania bit down deeply onto the huge hunk of mutton, teeth gnashing into and tearing the meat before she pulled her arms away, tearing the large bite free. As she chewed on the meat, she absently considered about how hard it was to get decent mutton down in the Underworld.
Sheep didn’t last very long in the depths, which meant they had to be brought down from the surface. Now, while she could import it, it was an expenditure she felt was beneath someone of her standing. She was a Dungeon Keeper, after all. If she wanted lamb, she’d send some Minions to bring her sheep. If she wanted beef, she’d send them for a cow. She simply took that she wanted. Such was simply the way of things.
As she chewed, juices leaked from the corners of her mouth and down her face, her hands covered in the grease of the slow-roasted flesh, yet still maintaining a tight grasp on the bone. After all, food like this existed to be enjoyed. Most people, to use the term lightly, in the Underworld simply lacked the breadth of experience to appreciate and derive pleasure from all the culinary delights that the Overworld had to offer.
Still, the obese woman mused as she stuffed her gullet, the Underworld did have its own delicacies. Chewing harder, she swallowed the piece of mutton, before reaching out to her golden goblet of rum. This was not the sugarcane-based spirit of the world above, no. Instead, it was made from the sticky, nectarous, cherry-red fruit of the Sweet Pod shrubs which grew in the darkness below. From the hearty fruit of this ugly plant, all the most popular sweeteners of the Underworld were derived. Red Sugar, Pod Syrup, and of course, her rum.
She brought the chalice to her large lips and tilted it and her head back; drinking deeply. She had always favored this drink, even when she was beautiful and lived in the world above. Of course back then, she had thought it to have been the creation of the Dwarves. Now she knew better. It was actually the creation of the Dark Elves. Like their Sylvan cousins, the Dark Elves were arrogant, condescending, obnoxious, but still, had such a way with food and spirits.
Quickly draining her bejeweled cup, what did not go down her throat en mass dribbled down from the corners of her mouth, following the trail made by the gristle from her meat. The moment her goblet was empty, she slammed it down on the table and loudly bellowed for, “MORE RUM!”
At the call from her mistress, a disfigured slave girl quietly crept through the entrance to the dining hall, struggling to carry a generously sized jug. The slave girl kept her face down as she carried the jug of amber liquid to her mistress... a face that the Nelfania had cut with great care, as to mar her beauty considerably, yet to allow her enough to remember the faded grace that she once possessed. It was not unlike the fate of the Dungeon Keeper herself, really.
Nelfania watched as her slave refreshed her intricately-crafted golden goblet and sighed. She so despised these pitiful wrenches. Even with the scars she now bore, the little beauty that remained on her managed to somehow still shine through. It was a shame that she was forced to use sluts such as these. Trim little trained whores with their pert breasts and round little butts. Made her want to break out the lash that very second...
The portly Dungeon Keeper almost wished she could just dispense of them in their entirety. If it was a realistic option, she’d rather be served by an Orc or a Bile Demon! At least their bloated forms would not remind her of what she had lost or the abomination she had become.
That in mind, she could just not help but chuckle at how ironic it was that her favored Minions were the Dark Mistresses. While it annoyed her to no end that they were all lovely little sex pets, she was able to look past their beauty and to their dark hearts and the cruelty they could show others. She felt a kinship with them, a camaraderie even! They were on the outside, what she truly was on the inside. Dark and beautiful... oh, how she longed to be free of this accursed body!
Her eyes narrowing, Nelfania scowled deeply, causing the slave to quickly seal the jug and step back, in fear of the wrath the Dungeon Keeper might visit upon her to vent her frustrations.
“Slaves”, she snorted. This little whore and her kind were related to why she was in such a foul mood. She was still upset over what had happened yesterday with that little piss-ant showing her up like that, treating her as if she were beneath his notice...
And it infuriated her, absolutely killed her that she gave into his display of power! She’d been in this area longer than him, and she folded just like that. Sure, he had a Horned Reaper, but gods, the indignity of it all!
Growling, Nelfania threw the remnants of her leg of mutton to the side, and reached forward, grabbing a plate with a delicately prepared Cave Lobster. Grabbing hold of the tail with one meaty hand, and the main body with the other, she broke it apart, causing trapped moisture to spray out, some spritzing her across the face and her swollen cleavage. Dropping the body, she brought the open end of the tail to her mouth, taking a generous mouthful of the still-steaming meat.
Oh yes, she’d break him. She knew she could break him like the shellfish she was devouring now. After the way that whole scenario had played out earlier, Nelfania’s gut instincts gave her an inkling as to the nature of this new Dungeon Keeper.
He came from the world above; she knew it in her gut.
Not that she could prove it, but she’d seen his type countless times before. When she had been a beautiful lady of the lands above, they’d come in the dozens, hundreds even! Virtuous champions and ‘brave sir knights’ doing glorious deeds in her name, seeking her favor, and hoping fruitlessly to be the man she chose to wed.
The boy had the heart of a hero. She could smell it...
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(Posted Wed, 18 Apr 2007 01:26)
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