"Lady Auguste has chosen to greet you personally," one of the guards announced as his armor clanged while he stepped out of the way of the castle's solid, oak wood gate, before setting down the end of the tall pike that he wielded as his voice got softer. "Please remain calm, no matter what you see."
Oakina and Silverbell gave each other a glance, curious as to what the soldier was referring to. Razaranje, however, paid the man no attention, having the least bit of curiosity regarding what the baroness was like. The solid door opened moments later, and the ruler of the town and surrounding land was carried outside on a beautiful red felt chair that had gold accents along the arms and legs.
"Presenting Lady Florentia Auguste," the guard barked, banging the end of his pike down on the brick ground before bowing his head towards the baroness as she stepped into clear view beneath the late afternoon sun.
She was beautiful. With long, voluminous white hair that was tied back in a high ponytail by a scarlet-colored ribbon, the 25-year-old baroness looked upon the party with wide amber eyes, reading the faces of the trio as she was carried forward. Her slender, yet curvy body was dressed in a fancy, short, red corset dress, her sizable pale breasts wobbling as her attendants slowly brought her out of the castle, while a gentle breeze blew against the latter half of the garment. Her bare thighs were crossed over each other while a tall, red stiletto lace boot adorned each of her feet, and tufts of white fur decorated her shoulders.
"Hello guests, and welcome to Castle Bodenplatte!" the baroness exclaimed, smiling warmly as she raised her arms towards the visitors. "I hear that you've come directly from Cloud's south-eastern front, only just avoiding complete annihilation! What a story that must be, I look forward to hearing all about it. Now whom might I have the pleasure of addressing?"
"T-thank you, My Lady," Silverbell stammered while bowing, his eyes widening in shock upon seeing the baroness. "I am Corporal Dougal Silverbell, the default leader of what remains of the Cloudian 4th army."
"And I go by Oakina, My Lady," the priestess answered, bowing as well while shuddering as if disturbed. "I am the 4th army's chief medic and servant of the Temple of Destruction."
Razaranje merely smirked upon seeing the baroness, amused at what he was looking at.
It wasn't that Lady Florentia Auguste was horrifying or anything, as she was beautiful in every sense of the word. What unnerved Silverbell and Oakina, however, was who was carrying the chair that the baroness was seated on. Their legs shaking and their arms trembling at the weight on their shoulders, two scrawny, shirtless, disheveled young men struggled to keep the seated lady elevated, one in the front and one in the back of the chair. Their emasculated figures were covered in bruises, scars, and even cuts that had not finished healing, and their faces were fearful and anxiety ridden.
"And who might you be, young man?" the Lady Auguste asked, leaning forward much to the difficulty of the man carrying the front of her throne. "Aren't you going to bow for me? I am a Lady."
"T-this is Private Razar, My Lady," Silverbell interrupted, jumping up at Raz and trying to push him down into a bow. "Forgive his etiquette, he received many blows to the head in battle. I am nonetheless trying to promote him to succeed me upon my own promotion."
"I bow to no one," Razaranje sneered, shocking both the gnome and Oakina.
"L-lord Razaranje, please," Silverbell begged, whispering up to the god. "Whether or not you decide to help us in the war long term, my troops are exhausted. We need some reinforcement until we're transferred to different units."
"Alright, but I bow to no one," Raz repeated, causing the baroness to chuckle.
"My, what a saucy boy," she laughed through a smile. "Since you're battle-weary, I shall forgive you this time, but—
The scarlet-clad woman was interrupted as the man carrying the front of her seat collapsed from exhaustion, sending her tumbling out of the chair and falling towards the hard ground. In a blur of motion, Razaranje caught the baroness just before she hit the brick, surprising her as she looked up into the god's icy-blue eyes. Silverbell gasped, while Oakina covered her mouth.
"My acquaintances need to speak with you, so I can't let you break your fragile mortal neck," Raz explained, before standing up to set the shocked woman on her feet.
"Mortal neck? My, what a tongue," Lady Auguste laughed again, blushing noticeably as she slowly climbed out of Razaranje's muscular arms. "For your information, I could have landed on my feet just fine. It may not look like it, but I'm thoroughly trained in both combat and physical agility."
"L-Lady Auguste, I'm so sorry!!" the servant who had dropped his end of the chair begged, falling to his knees and posturing himself before the baroness, his slender legs donning nothing but a ragged pair of shorts. "P-Please forgive me! I'm weak, and I—
"Now, now, calm down," Lady Auguste replied, stooping down and pulling the young man into a forceful kiss, before breaking it and smiling at his shocked expression. "I understand why this happened, but you also understand that now I have to punish you, right? Go back inside, the both of you. I'll deal with you later."
"Y-yes, My Lady," both the men replied, quaking with fear as the door guard escorted them back inside.
"Hehehe, is it bad that I choose the weakest ones to carry me on purpose, just so that I can punish them when they inevitably mess up?" the baroness asked, seemingly oblivious to the disturbed expressions that Oakina and Silverbell wore. "The fear in their eyes, it's intoxicating. Anyway, shall we head inside now? We've got dinner on the way, so if you'll do me the honor of joining me in the dining hall."
The trio wordlessly entered the castle behind the scarlet woman, where a guard closed the door behind them. Gazing around at the long, empty corridors, Razaranje scoffed at how pitiful the fortress was in comparison to a palace found in the Realm of the Gods. The castle, which was tall yet narrow, had a way of feeling claustrophobic with its skinny halls and tight, winding turns. As they made their way deeper inside, the group passed several servants and soldiers, all of whom respectively bowed to their lady. There was a dark, sinister aura coming from the depths of the fortress, however, that the god of destruction could immediately pick up on.
Entering a large dining hall, Lady Auguste invited the trio to have a seat at the large, solid wood feast table that was already set for dinner. Two guards, each in slender, iron armor, stood at the door with their short swords hilted, watching as the party entered and sat down. With the baroness taking a seat at the head of the table, Silverbell sat at the corner closest to her, while Razaranje sat next to him and Oakina to his side. Servants were in the room also, but like the ones carrying the baroness earlier, they were all young, shirtless men that were clothed in raggedy shorts. There was also a black collar around each of their necks.
"Can I offer you some mead wine, Corporal?" one servant asked as he stepped forward, offering a large bottle to the cup at Silverbell's place. "I hear it is a favored beverage of the gnomish people."
"W-why yes, thank, son," Silverbell replied with a nod, watching as he poured him a drink.
"And some altar wine for the priestess, perhaps?" another servant offered, holding a lean bottle over Oakina's cup. "Our mistress believes that you'll be familiar with the inexpensive, sparkling wine that is usually made in offering to the gods at temples."
"S-sure, thank you," Oakina nodded.
"And for the young private—
"None for me, I'm pretty sure any alcoholic beverage that you can offer will be nothing short of inferior," Razaranje interrupted a third servant, prompting him to nervously pour the god a simple cup of water instead.
As the servants moved around the room, Silverbell and Oakina grew uneasy at their disheveled appearances. Like the ones that carried the baroness, their bodies all held a varying degree of scars and bruises, some fresher than others. The gnome in particular could make out the scars from many whip lashes across the backs of several, and Oakina even caught one with a fresh burned-on brand across his upper thigh. In fancy handwriting, it read 'Auguste'. The servants all looked on-edge, visibly nervous despite their calm demeanors, especially the one that was hesitantly pouring a dark liquid into Lady Auguste's cup.
"Call me a peasant, but I can't get enough of grog," the baroness explained, taking a long swig of the beverage before setting it down. "Anyway, shall we get to talking business?"