As Beryllia strolled down the corridor to reach her chamber she couldn't help but think of nothing but the General being asleep at the side of her domain of torment. She could hardly think of any reason why the Stoneborn would do such a weird thing. Has she been watching her? It didn't make much sense in her opinion. Surely a Stoneborn couldn't be too much interested in the art of torture, as they were solely focused on tactics, weapons and how to improve their combat power. At least for what she knew about them so far.
Being all consumed by her musings, she almost stumbled over a dregder mopping the floor on his knees.
'Oi Ma'am! Watch yer step!'
She gave the dregder an apologizing smile and tried to regain her focus on the surroundings. One of the many chamber doors that flanked the corridor was wide open and emanated a faint shimmer of light.
Curious as she was, she peeked into the room, having no clue whose quarters it might be, for there were too many Venthyr living down here and she couldn't manage to memorize who lives where (or even all their names).
In the glow of a solitary candle that had almost burnt down, she could percieve the outlines of an arrangement of golden blades leaning against the wall, neatly assorted by their size. Her eyes widenend for a moment as she ralized where she was.
'Well, that's kind of unwary Miss..' she muttered and stepped into the chamber, innocently whistling away to herself. It wasn't very large and sparsely furnished. Merely a rather small but delicately made wooden desk and a matching chair were to be found, and some kind of mat in a bay at the side of the room that didn't look too comfortable. Indeed the weapons had been arranged in perfect order and had obviously also been cleaned and freshly sharpened as they were shining as new. Yet the rest of the chamber was an utter mess. Various pieces of crimson armour were scattered around the whole room and a chaotic clutter of parchments accompanied by a half-emptied glass of whatever marred the beauty of the wooden desk.
'Focus on the essentials, huh?' she self-talked to distract herself from the fact that she was prying about in General Kaal's private space.
Of course her attention was quickly drawn to the parchments on the desk. The quill lay abandoned on one of the papers, the ink already dried up at it's tip.
Carefully, Beryllia picked up one of the pages and brought it close to her face to examine it in the dimness. Droplets of some liquid had dissolved some of the words that were written on it. Probably the same liquid that was still left in the glass. She bend down to sniff at it for identification and immediately regretted it. It was some kind of strong spirit with a pungent scent that made her eyes water and gave her an instant feeling of sickness.
'What the hell is that, how can you even...'
Then she focused on the parchment again. The writing was incredibly illegible, with a slightly aggressive touch, and untidy to such an extend there even were letters almost entirely missing in the rush the whole thing has obviously been written.
Still she tried her best to read the manuscript, page after page, her eyes widening more and more as she proceeded. She felt an inconvenient hotness rise to her face as she realized what was going on.
By the time she was done reading, she had blushed so hard she needed to fan herself with the parchment.
'You sure are a misunderstood species...' she breathed.
Carefully she placed the papers on the desk again, trying to arrange them as they had been before her violation of privacy, getting slightly panicked as she couldn't remember the correct order. Frantically, she fumbled around, assorting the mess somehow, breaking out in a cold sweat.
'Looking for something, Venthyr?'
Thunderstruck, Beryllia froze.
The deep, low voice added a shudder to her already flustered state.
Slowly, very very slowly she turned to face her fate.