<strong>P'Tulla</strong><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i55.tinypic.com/2yn2tsx.jpg)</div>P’Tulla was beyond bored. One after the other, the peasants had thrown themselves in front of their King and told their stories of famine, sand-wolf attacks, marauding bands of bandits, poisoned wells, … The time her King had to devote to the rabble was something she did not envy him for. She stood at the far end of the podium upon which the throne was standing. Whenever the King held audience, she stood there, ready to pounce at the first idiot who would dare to harm her King. Not that anything ever happened. Ignis hung sheathed and idle on her belt. One hand was resting on her hip, the other was occupied with the apple she was eating.<br/><br/>She blew out air as both the King’s sister as his exotic councilwoman came into the throne room. The atmosphere instantly got a lot more chilly. It was no surprise, the relationship between the two of them was deeply frosted on the best of days. And it didn’t look like either of them was having a good day. Thankfully the King ended the audience session before the two women could get into their petty arguments. She frowned when the King sent his sister away to lead a raid on the marauding bandits.<br/>How she would have loved to join the party herself, but her liege had made his decision.<br/><br/>In an instant, noblemen and peasants alike had streamed out of the throne room. Only the King, Olivia and herself were left. She smiled when the King inquired as to the purpose of his boring tasks. She found it hard to disagree with him. A true King should not occupy himself with the petty troubles that worried his peasant populace.<br/>