Arrival in Pavis - Part 2: Interview with Sor-Eel
The broad face was apoplectic with rage. Deville assumed an expression which indicated a touch of
boredom but a willingness to be reasonable. It was one of his favourite expressions and he'd practiced it for
"You walk into my city, execute one of my most able administrators as if eating Godsday lunch then barge
into my office _holding _ the mans head and wish me "goodday"! Are you insane sir?" Sor-eel leaned
heavily against his desk, his rage passing, leaving him drained. The damned made-up face in front of him
had never changed expression once throughout his tirade. It was like shouting at a statue.
"An object lesson was needed, Gaius ably filled that role." Deville nodded in the heads direction. It was on
Sor-eels desk spreading blood on his papers in a slow ooze. The surprise still plastered on Gaius' face was
almost comical. Devilles smile widened as he suppressed a chuckle. "Besides, the Overseer gave me
explicit instructions that I was to execute the little worm on sight, are you going to argue with his wishes
Sor-eel stared at Deville for a few moments then shook his head. "No, of course not, but please try and be
a little more circumspect in your actions. Remember, this city is straining under our control, the rebels are
just waiting for something to give them public support for a general revolt."
"Fear not Governor, I rarely leave a situation less calm than it was before I arrived. Understand this though,
my remit is to stamp out rebellion _and_ the miserable failings of our own people and by the Emperor's will,
so I shall."
Sor-eel shook his head sadly. "You know I can't interfere, but you are going to upset a lot of people
Deville, I'd appreciate some consultation on any of your actions, maybe I can help you out with information
about our more unwilling subjects in return?"
Deville bowed graciously. "When you put it like that Governor, I'd be boorish to do anything else."
Suddenly Deville turned round quickly, hand going to sword hilt, at the sound of heavy boots coming up the
corridor behind Sor-eel's door.
The door crashed open, revealing a large iron armoured man with Centurion's plumage. He was plainly
Yanafali and bore an impressively large scimitar. He didn't notice Deville who had moved quickly to the
side of the door upon the man's entrance. He stomped straight to Sor-eels desk where he took his
impressive helmet off and saluted sharply. He began speaking at Sor-eel in what could only be described as
a parade ground bellow.
"Heard some effete Heartland priest was in town, killed someone at the gate. Natives restless again sir.
Should take a squad and round up a few of them troublemakers in Gimpys, maybe burn down Geo's,
crucify the lot of them. After that, what say I find this priest fellow and kick him out of town." The mans
eyes had taken on a glazed look as he saw the deeds done already in his mind. He was far enough gone not
to notice the choked look on Sor-eels face.
Deville stepped forward, the Yanafali Centurion turned round _very_ quickly. Deville smiled. "Allow me to
introduce myself, I am Morthander Deville, the "effete Heartland priest" you want to kick out of town.
From your enormous iron boots and sparkling personality, I'd say you were Radak, the Iron Centurion. Is
that so?" Deville's smile was carefully crafted to display contempt without being offensively obvious.
The Iron Centurions long disassociation with Heartland subtleties was welcome to Sor-eel because he
completely failed to notice Deville's insulting behaviour.
He straightened up. "Yes, I am Radak, senior Centurion of Pavis and commander of the Empires forces of
occupation. We don't need another priest here, we need soldiers. Why don't you head back to Mrins
Cross and tell them to send us some fighting men?" He locked eyes with Deville in an attempt at intimidation
that was utterly wasted.
"Indeed? Well, I am a fighting man Radak. Large boots do not make a warrior, if they did, I'm sure you'd
be able enough to take on Humakt himself. However, I hold Tribunal rank and can and will have you
punished for insulting and disobeying a senior officer."
Radak snorted. "You think you can pull rank on me?"
Deville smiled sweetly. "Yes." He said.
Radaks face assumed a dangerous red colour. Before an explosion could occur, Sor-eel slammed his hand
on his desk.
"That's enough you two, your behaving like fighting cocks!"
He rounded on Radak. "You will obey this man's orders. Do you understand?" Radak's face maintained its
stubborn, almost petulant look. "Do you understand?" Roared Sor-eel.
Radak gave a stiff nod. "Yes sir, permission to leave sir?" He barked. With Sor-eels nod, he saluted
sharply and strode out, back straight, totally ignoring Deville.
Once he'd gone Sor-eel looked at Deville. "You were provoking him. Watch him Deville, he has his limits."
"I can look after myself Governor, though I appreciate your concern."
"I've heard of your reputation as a duelist, but Radak is very popular with the men, like as not his men
would not take kindly to you insulting him. You can't beat a Regiment Deville, not even you can do that."
"Perhaps, perhaps it would be an interesting experiment. Regardless, I shall take your advice into
consideration." Deville bowed again. "I must go to my Inn now, I am tired after such an arduous journey.
Till tomorrow then?"
Sor-eel nodded. "Rest well Deville, believe me, this city taxes even the hardiest of souls."
Deville smiled. "I think you'll find Governor, that this soul taxes even the hardiest of cities. Light be with
you." He turned crisply to leave a weary man behind him. Before he left the room fully Sor-eel had the final
"Don't forget to take the head on your way out, I already have a paperweight thanks."
<< Part 1 | The Deville page | Meeting the Natives Part 1 >>