Many of the deities of Revaliir had suffered some sort of loss, injury, or other life changing event during the war that had taken place as Onnen had made its reappearance. Dalanesca had been among them, though the changes she had undergone were not physical – at least not appearance wise. She was still getting a grasp on what had happened to her, but with help from a few of her closest allies and friends, she had managed to get it under control, at least for now. She felt the hunger for blood rather strongly no matter how much she consumed, and she knew why it was – the regular blood of mortals was just not strong enough to curb the craving entirely. It turned out that the bit of power a champion inherited from their patron god helped, as when Serci had been kind enough to offer his vein, it had satiated her a bit more than any other mortal she had tasted.
The Reaper had all but secluded herself to her realm after the changes had taken place, wanting to make sure she had everything completely under control before venturing out into the world again. Though she was in charge of Death, she did not necessarily want to inflict it on every single living thing she came across. Dalanesca was a social creature, and this seclusion was beginning to eat away at her psyche – thus, she found herself thinking of suitable people to invite for a visit – people she knew she would not be able to harm, but also people that she wanted to be around. These days, those people were few and far between. She had either alienated most of her friends, or was too afraid to invite them to be around her because she did not want to reveal the changes that had taken place.
Then, it had dawned upon her – Zanar! She hadn’t seen him since a brief rendezvous with all of the gods before the battle (the battle that had inevitably killed her… resulting in her resurrection – which resulted in the changes). The pair had previously hunted down a Necromancer together, though that had been before Zanar’s ascension… and it hadn’t really gone over too well. Dalanesca owed Zanar quite a bit, as he had managed to get her back to her realm without either of them suffering any real damage. The necromancer had taken them to Parvpora, resulting in a dampening of Dalanesca’s power – allowing her to actually be injured. After that, they had met in Zanar’s realm and shared a drink, nothing more than a social gathering. That was what struck a chord with her – the fact that she had actually enjoyed having a conversation with him, even with no ulterior motive.
That had made the decision for her – Dalanesca wrote up a short note and sent it with a messenger to Flidais, with an invitation to Zanar to join her in Luxuria Mortiferum. She was concise and clear in the note that she was not asking him for anything – she merely wanted to meet with him to catch up, and to see how he was doing after the battle. She had heard rumors of what had happened to him, but she would not believe them until she saw for herself. It hadn’t taken long for the messenger to return with a note from Zanar, indicating that he would be making an appearance and when she should expect him to arrive.
When that day had come, she made a bit of an ordeal with her staff, transforming the hall in which her throne of bones sat into a room fit for a gathering, albeit a small one. A table lined one side, covered in a multitude of different meats, cheeses, fruits, and breads – the end of the table filled with different decanters, each with a different label to indicate what type of liquor filled it. A small barrel of dwarven ale sat there as well – an ale so strong it would knock a mortal down after just one drink. Among the liquors was the infamous whiskey that Angela Rose brewed for Dalanesca – enough to get a god inebriated. While the throne was still in the room, more furniture had been added – a very large couch, a couple of reclining chairs, and some large pillows on the floor for sitting. Her servants stood by at the ready, prepared for her guest to arrive and to bring them whatever they would request – if something wasn’t found on the table, they would find it quickly at request.
As the time that Zanar had indicated he would arrive approached, Dalanesca plopped herself down on one of the large pillows on the floor. Her skirts spread out around her, and she poked one leg out through the splits in the fabric, her feet lacking shoes. One of the servants brought her a crystal glass filled with a dark red wine, and she sipped, lounging on the pillow, awaiting her guest.
