The hazy yellow rays from the setting sun shone into the office, reflecting off the ornate and particularly shining table; straight into rudlags eyes. [… Not going to be able to get any work done like this…this damn table… The light always shines into my eyes… it's too damn shining… might as well be a mirror… joc you're proving to be more and more right aren't you..] Rudlag thought as he stood up and stretched his arms, letting out a soft but long yawn; He was tired both physically and mentally.
He walked over to the also ornate shiny door to his office. "Gold, silver and polished wood may look pleasing to the eye, but it makes a lot of god-awful glare." Rudlag grumbled to himself, as he started to regret having taste in such shiny things.
He knocked on the door once. "Sire is anything you need?" A Muffled voice responded from the other side. "Yes, bring me some alcohol; I honestly don't care what kind. As well something to eat." Rudlags responded his voice oddly hoarse and tired. It took a few moments before the voice on the other side responded "Sire is anything particular you want to eat?" Although muffled the concern in the voice was still audible. "…haa… Something that's easy to forced down." Rudlag answered, his exhaustion and lack of appetite clear and evident in his voice.
Again the voice on the other side took some moments before responding "yes right away sire". Rudlag walked over to the window in his office overlooking the great capital city of the Varnnse kingdom; Varn. He looked towards the reflection in the glass, tentatively reaching out a hand to touch it. A young man with thinning tangled, straw like golden haired; that looked as if it hadn't been brushed or washed in months. His face bore scraggly unkempt facial hair that barely hid the Pale gaunt cheeks underneath. Ornate clothes that hung onto his body heavily, hiding the body wasting away underneath.
".…i really am falling apart, talking to myself like a madman while looking like a beggar…haa… it Seems like you might kill me sooner than you think joc…. You always did have to have the last laugh… And much to my chagrin you always DID have good reason, to be the last one laughing." Rudlag mumbled to himself as he watched the last bit of hustle and bustle before everyone one bed down for the night.
He turned his eyes and looked towards the slums. " ah..yes the slums perfect example of you being in the right." He softly said to himself as he turned his mind back to when he was but a small child.
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A small seven-year-old Rudlag sat on his father's lap, whom was sitting upon the royal throne. Kneeling before them was Joc Zalera of Mulgar, his frame was lean but packed with muscle. His mostly pepper hair was tied back into a ponytail with a simple ribbon. His lip and chin was covered with a neatly trimmed and maintained long mustache and goatee. His amethyst eyes shone brightly with fury. His clothes simple and practical, but reeked of human filth.
"Sire I'm not sure how many FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO STRESS THIS! But get off YOU FUCKING ASS and FIX THE DAMN SLUMS!" joc berated his king, his eyes seemingly trying to a burn hole straight through the king skull.
"…you know joc you're lucky, you're too useful to get rid of; because I don't like this tone you are taking with me." The King's voice was old, but firm. "Your Majesty, you do fucking understand why I'm useful right? It's because unlike you, I don't FUCKING IGNORE SHIT THAT NEEDS TO BE DONE! I DO NOT CARE, I DO NOT GIVE TWO SHITS IF YOU DON'T LIKE MY FUCKING TONE YOU GERIATRIC COOT! Just FUCKING FIX THE GOD FUCKING SLUMS, because if you don't YOU WILL regret it!" joc ranted almost frothing at the mouth, gnashing his teeth like a rabid dog.
The King for his part didn't respond for a good minute. "You know it's funny, I always get caught off guard with how unfiltered you are. I guess the constant fighting with the demons, means some of their repugnancies rub off on you, don't they? But seriously I don't understand why you making such a big fuss about the slums. This isn't your city, none of your citizens live here, nor do you have any interest is here." The King responded his voice barely concealing his contempt.
"Your Majesty I had already told why, AND IF YOU WEREN'T FUCKING going senile; you would understand. But let me try to fucking explain it again, so hopefully it will get through that thick skull of yours. The slums are in serious disrepair, there are god fucking fire hazards everywhere. All the old decrepit buildings are just threatening to burst into flames at any moment. What's more is that none of the wells in the slums don't fucking work anymore. They've all gone dry, been filled up with debris or are missing their buckets; So guess FUCKING WHAT if a fire starts they are not going to be able to put it out.
Now with this recent drought that has been happening, it isn't just the slums that is will be kindling to a damn flame; But also the rest of the fucking city. Mark my words if measures aren't fucking taken by the end of fall, your precious city will be up in God damn flames." joc explained as he gritted his teeth trying to best contain his temper.
But the King for his part simply raised an eyebrow and said "that's an awfully specific time frame." Joc eyebrows twitched, his body strained causing his joints to audibly creak. "…. You truly are going senile, that or you have shit for brains. That wasn't a specific time frame, it actually pretty FUCKING UNSPECIFIC!"
"… Guards throw this irate, duke out. I will not listen to his baseless and insulting drivel." The King commanded his soldiers with a cold anger. But before the guards could drag out joc, he stood up himself and simply left without saying another word.
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The sun had finally started to fall below the horizon when Rudlag heard a knocking on the door, He took one last look out at the city; a quarter of the city had signs of reconstruction being done, while the slums only consisted of burnt out husks. Joc had been right, 13 years ago fire had engulfed Varn… The repairs needed haven't even been half completed yet.