This story is actually the culmination of work I did almost a year ago, before my illness progressed to the point where I didn't have the energy to stay up at long hours writing.... and I didn't just write for an hour and then start up later. This was full-out writing jags that would last untill I fell asleep at the computer chair. The only thing which woke me up at that point was A) my head hitting the computer desk, B) me faling out of the chair, or C) when anyone else came into the room to check on me and would gently shake me.
I used to play a game called RetroMUD... some of you might have heard of it 
. I had a character there who I enjoyed roleplaying, so I eventually did the first three chapters of her backstory (Yes, I played a female character... wanna argue about it? 
). Anyway, I thought about putting it up here for you guys 
.
By the way, for those of you not familiar with the title, 'Diabolus Errare' loosely translates into 'Where Devils Lose Their way' from Latin. It's the tale of how this character came to be what she is in the present (Now I really will have to finish the story *grumble grumble*).
Enjoy! ^_^
For the umpteenth time, Threnody thought, 'I HATE perimeter
duty!'. The day hadn't begun very well. Being woken from her
short reverie before the crack of the thrice-damned dawn after
an exhaustive search for most of the night would do it. Not to
mention that the Prince was in a foul mood lately. And ****
always went downhill, didn't it? If there were any certainties
in the Pit it was orders and misery. if you didn't pay enough
attention to the former, then you'd sure as hell get a bellyful
of the latter.
Sighing, she pulled on her hauberk over her head, and
tied it tight with her demonskin belt. Moving to the mirror,
she checked herself. 'Great', she thought, 'Pillow head'.
Grabbing handfuls of her coal black hair, Threnody tied it all
back into a ponytail with a length of leather cord. No time
for a bun.
Making sure not to break any of the art 'decor' in the way,
Threnody made her way to the office of His Most Fey Majesty's
Grand Seneschal... a fancy name for the hole in the wall it was.
Some other members of her talon joined up along the way.
Threnody smirked upon seeing the condition of the talon's
resident larvae tender, Meezer. Bloodshot eyes and sallow skin
told of a debauch only reccently ended. Heh.
Raising her voice loudly, she asked, "You gonna be able to
hack it, or am I gonna have to put you up on the roster?"
Meezer turned and hissed, "Not so loud... I can hear you
just fine!"
She chuckled, knowing full well that Meezer would try to
bluff his way around going on sick call. Nor did she blame him.
The talon's healer's cures killed as often as they helped.
One thing you could say about this group: no one shirked their
duties by pretending to be ill, for even so much as a hangnail.
Laughing softly, Garm said, "Meazles, you really are a sad
sack".
The quite hungover soulrancher snorted painfully, "And
who asked for your opinion?"
Ardath, the only other female in the talon shook her head
in wry amusement. "Why don't you face facts? You can't hold
your liquor. An atomy could drink you under the table."
Garm grinned broadly. "One did. A caraffe of Fey Wine
later and he was pledging eternal brotherhood to the puck."
Laughter and catcalls errupted from amongst the group.
"Rot in Tarterus, the lot of you!", Meezer ground out.
Pursing her lips, Threnody muttered darkly, "Ok, enough
talk... let's see what His Nibs has to say."
Entering the cluttered office of Lord Cairpre, they gave
the same fruity salute that Lord Auberon's men-at-arms had
taught them upon arriving at the castle. The loquacious
little martinet was holding forth behind his desk. He
looked up as everyone crowded around.
"Who is it? I'm busy right n.... Oh... it's you.
That's good. Stand right there. No touching anything!
Ok now....."
If anything, the little squib was to the point.
"... Last night's less-than-productive search leaves me no
choice but to tap another agent in the field who's taking care of
other affairs for the Royal Court.... and NO, it's none of your
buisness what that is..." he pointed a finger at Garm. Garm
gave Cairpre a single digit salute. The elf didn't bat an eye.
He knew what the infernal grunts were like. And so long as they
did their jobs to specs, really didn't give a horned rat's ass
what they thought or did unless a breach of the Covenant happened.
The flayed corpses of Infernal generals have hung from the
cliffs of the Malbowges for lesser offenses.
Lord Cairpre fixed his beady gaze on Threnody. "The agent's
name is Deciduous.... not his True Name, of course." The Sidhe
Court used the names of trees or types of forest terrain to
denote their agents and their importance in the beuracratic
machinery. "He will meet up with your party at the boundary
between the Sea of Grass and the Ymirs' Teeth Mountain Range.
You'll have untill about 10 o' clock to prepare and leave. This
is dangerous territory. The Winter Queen's spies are everywhere."
"How are we supposed to find this Deciduous?", Threnody asked.
"He will find you", Cairpre nodded meaningfully.
After the briefing, the group split up.
"Has anyone said when our replacements are getting in?", Garm
whispered to Threnody. The hallway was empty except for the two
of them. But then again, the Fae didn't need to be there to hear
you.
"Not sure. At least, I haven't gotten any messages from
Lord Grimtharke to that end". Lord Grimtharke, leader of the
Blood Moon Fist and lieutenant in Infernal rank had been silent
for the last month. Which could mean any number of things.
Garm frowned. He didn't say anything else. She didn't need
to guess his thoughts. She'd entertained them herself.
"Not for us to worry about. We just keep on keeping here".
Garm punched a thought into her. 'Don't these twinks put your
teeth on edge too?'
Without warning, Threnody backhanded Garm knocking him into a
stone bust of Lord Auberon. It fell to the floor, shattering
into a skillion pieces.
She snarled, "I've warned you before about that. Sharing a
bedroll does NOT give you that priviledge!"
Garm pushed away from the wall he'd struck but didn't approach
her. He grimaced. "Sorry."
She considered for a moment how to respond to his quick answer.
Tail lashing about, she flashed him her best smile. "Forgiven".
The smile did not reach her eyes. But any male devil would know
what wasn't said. In the Pit, what was a smile but simply
just another show of teeth?
"Make sure that everyone else gets the word. I'm off to speak
to Lady Titania", Threnody muttered darkly, walking away from him.
Garm watched as she strolled off. Half his mind undressed her
slowly, the other half devising slow intricate tortures for her.
Turning about, he noticed the mess. It was hard not to giggle.
It was an imposible wish to see the real Auberon in such a
position... head crushed like an egg. Smiling and snapping
his fingers, Garm started on his way to the grunt barracks.
'Hmmm.... why not?' He cackled like a madman, racing down the
hallway. Busts, vases, and statuary went flying and crashing in
a symphony of destruction. Let the twinkletoed snots chew on
that.
TBC