Darkhound padded into the Great Mistresses chambers, and sunk to his haunches on the onyx steps of the dais on which her throne was mounted. In his mind, the words that he had read on the scroll delivered by his favourite pigeon, Crusty, were etched in ten-foot high letters of fire. Well, okay, that was a bit dramatic, but he remembered 'em pretty well, that was certain.
"Darkhound, I am going to be absent from WOTA for an extended period, with the exception of occasional visits. I am busy conquering other worlds, and dealing with the pressures of the world of the mundane. And, frankly, I need a break from it all. So, with this in mind, I put into your capable paws the responsibility for keeping the dark empire from collapse, until such a day comes where I decide to return. You were there at the beginning, my faithful hound, and you must be there now. Keep the innuendo, the smut, the rambles, the romance, the madness, the parties, and the fun from dying out, that is my charge. Be well, until my return, dear hound.
Ariella, the Great Mistress of the Dark."
His eyes were already red, but the moist glaze they displayed hinted at the emotions within, and the hound let out a long, high whimper of sorrow, that echoed down the corridors, and haunted the darkest corners like a ghost of despair. When the noise had tailed off into an inaudible frequency, Darkhound hung his head. He could still smell her, still feel her. Her considerable presence permeated the very rock that the palace was built on. Forlornly, he sniffed at the steps. After a moment, he looked around to check he was alone, and with a canine grin, began to lick them too, froth flecking his dark maw.
A hand of conscience slapped the cheeks of his mind. "Darkhound! Stop that!" came the familiar female voice.
"Great Mistress?" he yelled silently.
"Yes. Well, your mind's interpretation of my will, anyway. Now, this is meant to be a serious post, and I don't want you spoiling it with the antics of your crazed libido, mutt! So get on with it!"
Darkhound's shape shifted and flowed until he sat on the steps in his human shape. A moment later, he decided for the sake of decency that clothes might be a good idea, so he willed them into his shape too. He had so much to do. For a start, he didn't want the Light Warriors trying to take advantage of things. Mind you, he thought, it was hardly a serious issue. The Light Warriors had a guest wing in the palace, and rated amongst the dark's favourite party guests and pals. Hostilities between them amounted to the occasional tease or bad pun, or maybe a drinking game, but they were meant to be adversaries, and appearances had to be maintained. Still, they were pretty quiet themselves. Mordeth, a sharp minded fellow, had been absent, and he was practically the only one who ever tried to nudge the slumbering mass that was the Light Warriors in any direction. Except for Taim. Taim had steel in his mind, and fire in his belly, but he often quenched it with beer, and got distracted by females, whereas Mordeth seemed a little... inhuman. No wonder they called him Buzz Shadowthumper. Plus, Agelmar had defected, finally working out that the charms of the dark sisters were well worth the price of the soul. Finally, they had lost Jandor, a man whose mind ran along similar rails to Darkhound's, and thus, in the hound's opinion, an intellectual colossus. "The light and the dark fade, and all that's left are shades of grey" thought Darkhound, in philosophical mood.
"Well, what do I do?" he asked his feet, his head bowed, and his arms wrapped around his knees. His feet thought about this, and would have shrugged apathetically, had they not been feet, and thus incapable of shrugging. "We need a leader," he thought. "I guess I'm smart enough, and I'm certainly handsome enough, plus I understand the 'raison d'Ítre' of the dark better than most." Darkhound chewed over the image of himself on the throne, directing things, managing, guiding ... then he shuddered, and dropped the idea into his mental bin marked 'forget it'.
"Ah hell, a woman sat on this throne, and a woman must sit there again!" he said, his voice strong with new found resolution. "That's it! We need to elect someone 'Acting Great Mistress of the Dark' to lead. But who?" Quickly, he made a mental list - Egwene2, Caramaena, Sundara, Smoke Ashalen..... the last was missing presumed having fun, and Sundara's visits were fleeting, at least for the moment. Who else was a fully fledged Dark Sister? He had kind of lost track. Did they have to be a Dark Sister? Could any power-crazed female with a penchant for whips and leather take the illustrious mantle? "Why the hell not?" he shrugged.
So, there you have it. The Dark needs an acting Great Mistress to schedule regular parties and keep the rowdies in check. Nominations from the Dark Brothers post below, please, plus any suggestions, applications, and so on. I guess the Light Warriors will make their thoughts known anyway, so I might as well invite 'em to post too.
Yeah, it's all a bit demented, but have you anything better to do?
~Darkhound, caretaker of the dark.
Sadness, my friends ...
Yet, a time for us Warriors of the Light to lead a charge into their very hearts. We shall miss the Lady of the Dark, but we must take this opportunity to become united. Join behind me!
Well, as longest-standing Dark Sister, and also the only one around at the moment, I volunteer my services for the next week. During that time, someone else had better turn up, because after that I have to return to the Slough of Despond known as - shudder - school.
Sundara, acting Great Mistress, and looking for an acting-acting Great Mistress