My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy 65 The Throne Room

Eleanor found herself standing in a large square room, maybe 50 feet by fifty feet in size, with a high, vaulted natural cave ceiling. To either side of the room to her left and right, two long wood tables were set up, heaped with food of all kinds, some of it eaten, most of it untouched. Nearly a dozen more large armored gnolls sat at each of the tables, and all of them now had their eyes trained directly on her. Circling her on every wall surface were ever more of the carved stories from the pa.s.sage before, except these seemed to paint a different picture entirely- one of conquest, of slaughter, of gnolls destroying and subjugating other races.

And directly across from her, sat on a carved wooden chair atop a stone dais, was the Gnoll Shaman, lounging lazily, a steel goblet balanced between the fingers of his left hand. In his right, he toyed with a small dagger, flipping back and forth between his fingers. The staff he'd carried earlier now rested gently against the side of the throne, within arm's reach should he need it.

When Ellie's attention turned to him, their eyes locked, and he grinned widely.
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"Welcome, girl. So glad you could join me." He said, his large white teeth glittering in the flickering torchlight of the chamber. With a flick of his wrist, the blade flicked from his hand too quickly for her to follow, and with a m.u.f.fled thump sank into the leg of one of the seated gnolls, which who yelped and snarled and glowered at the Shaman, before lowering his head and setting to pulling the blade out.

The Shaman sat up in his throne, and waved his hand at the tables.

"There's food. None of these scoundrels will touch you without my say so. I give you my word." He said, before taking a drink from his goblet.

Eleanor glanced over at the table nearest to her. The meat and bread and other things on there did look tempting, but as soon as she did so, the gnolls seated around it gave her a wicked, l.u.s.tful collection of glances that made immediately removed any idea form her head of taking him up on his offer.

"No? Well, suit yourself, then." The shaman said, draining the rest of his goblet and tossing the metal cup to the side with a clang before standing and grabbing his staff. With a gesture and a word, a chair from one of the tables slid noiselessly over until it rested directly behind her.

The shaman motioned to it. "Have a seat, girl" He said.

Eleanor looked at him, uncertain whether complying was in her best interest. After a moment, she decided she lost nothing by refusing his little request. If his intent was evil, it would become obvious immediately. If not, she would have the option to go along with what he was asking after.

Eleanor shook her head.

"I'd prefer to stand." She said, bringing her hands in front of her and lacing her fingers in front of her lap.

Rawgh'faz chuckled to himself, and said, "You mistake me, girl. That was not a suggestion."

He gestured and uttered a low, multi-tone word from the back of his throat, akin to a sung growl. Suddenly, Eleanor found her hands snapped to her sides, and was bodily forced into a sitting position by some external force she couldn't see. No sooner was she seated, however, the force disappeared, and she was able to move freely again.

"Comfortable? Good." Rawgh'faz said more than asked as he flopped back into his throne with a creak.

"Now that I have your attention, let me tell you why you're here." He said, grinning wickedly.