A comfortable sofa materialized along the hillside of the Radiant Valley, hilariously out of place in such a pristine wilderness. As Ranavalona took her seat upon it, she noted with satisfaction that no one would spare a second to examine the sudden appearance of home furnishings. Not compared to the hundred foot woman currently bearing down upon the Order of the Radiant Warriors.

As Rana watch her dear Marcy advance upon her former home, she reflected on the paladin’s progress during the past two weeks. The girl followed Rana with a devotion that bordered upon religious, and despite her lack of experience with the dark arts, studied her lessons with a passion and reverence that the more experienced witch found invigorating.

That wasn’t the only subject that Marcy approached with passion and reverence, but a lady doesn’t tell.

Rana watched with interest as the head priest of the Order launched a magical attack at the titanic Marcella, having an excellent vantage point from the central spire of the Order. The witch girl recognized the attack as a spell tailored to lift any sort of hypnosis or mind control from its target. She could only chuckle to herself as she pictured the old priest’s reaction once he realized Marcella wasn’t under any sort of control. Perhaps then he’d realize how doomed they were.

Or, considering how quickly Marcella demolished the spire, perhaps he’d never have the chance.

Destroying the Order had been Marcella’s idea; indeed, she had practically begged for the opportunity. The fact that they had tried to have Ranavalona killed was an unforgivable offense in Marcella’s eyes. The warrior was so protective of Rana and her honor that the mage had begun employing her as an enforcer and bodyguard when she wasn’t studying her magics. Of course, someone as powerful as Rana didn’t need a bodyguard, but she absolutely adored the aesthetics of having one. It was another status symbol, and she got no end of amusement from watching supposedly-powerful men meet Marcella’s cold eyes with intimidated glances of their own.

Those cold eyes clearly spotted something, or someone, useful on the ground at her feet. Smiling deviously, the giant Marcella quickly grabbed a statuesque, raven-haired woman from the panicking crowd below, holding her close.

Rana strained to hear the conversation. “Jezebel…” Marcella purred. “Remember all those rumors you started about me?”

Rana couldn’t hear the terrified woman’s reply, but she didn’t care. “Guess what?” Marcy went on. “You were right.”

With that, the amorous titaness quickly put the tiny woman to…use. Ranavalona watched with interest, impressed by her apprentice’s creativity. As she continued to watch the show, (and made a note to remember that particular maneuver for a shrunken victim), a melody came to her mind. She couldn’t remember where she’d heard it; probably picked it up traveling among the Nexus at some point. But after a few moments, she was absently singing it to herself, already planning where to play with her new pet next.

“So if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste… use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste…”