Another cog in the murder machine

Baal Raum Baal had a sudden rush of memory; flashes of nights around a fire. Whispering. A golden cloak. The black, towering figure of her father. Her memories came back to her, all of them, in a few seconds. She shook her head quickly, coming back to her senses. She watched as his ears came up, listening to her speak. A smile. Korri seemed please with her answer, claiming that she wouldn't regret it. I have a feeling I will. Baal thought to herself, chuckling softly. She was still very obviously conflicted, part of her didn't want to do this. The other agreed with Korri, there was, in fact, safety in numbers, if nothing more. Korri turned, rather swiftly, away from Baal. He begain to walk. Baal followed closely behind him, listening to him talk about the leaders. Rixen and Roscorro. Baal found herself mouthing the names, making a mental note of them. A herd led by two men was something that she had never seen, or even heard of. Much less of them being fair. "I'm not used to fair leaders. Never had them." Baal says rather bluntly. It was the truth; her grandfather founded her kingdom on the fundamentals of war and discipline. As a result; leaders in any rank were either bloodthirsty spawns of Satan, or just plain rude and bitter. It's safe to say that in Baal's case. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. She was actually treated more brutally than the rest of her "class", or group born around the same time. The daughter of her father's favorite wife; she had a lot of pressure growing up to be perfect, and nothing less. Korri called Baal intelligent. For a moment, she rolled her eyes. Intelligent? Of course, she was, she was perfect, or just about as perfect as one could be. Nonetheless, she nodded her head at him slightly when he glanced back at her. My occupation? Wreaking hell on the commoners. Baal thought to herself, as she looked up from the ground. She picked up her speed to match Korri's before answering. "I suppose you could call me a diplomat. My father was..." she trailed off, memories flashed of wars caused by failed diplomatic missions caused by her father's careless choice of words. "He was not the best at negotiations." She nodded. Not the best was an understatement. Baal snorted, shaking her head. Waiting for some king to die? "My father had multiple wives. Multiple wives meant multiple foals." Baal continued, "While waiting for him to die, I competed with the others for his attention...and the rank of Heiress." Life for Baal was always a competition. Always. Baal couldn't quite remember a time when she did not compete for something. Perhaps as a newborn...yes. As a newborn, she didn't have to compete for warmth and love; it was simply given. As she got older, such things became more sparse. Baal's green eyes glanced over at Korri. What about him? He hinted at being royalty, were all kingdoms the same? Did every heir have a shitty dad, or was it just her? Quickly, she averted her gaze back to the ground, watching her steps. "Talk" Woman King

image || coding

@Korri occ// If you could that'd be great!