Chapter 3: Interludes & Nocturne
PART 1: THE GRIM HAND
Nearly fifty years prior. . .
Lieutenant Rhynos Medizen stormed out of his tent. The young officer barged through his soldiers, his black robe flapping open shamelessly revealing his pale body beneath. His hair, short and black was more mangled than typical and a fire of hate burned behind his eyes. In his hand, the soldier carried the burned husk of a viper.
Medizen’s troops grimaced in fear; many raised their hands as if to shield their bodies from another beating. The platoon, a mismatched grouping of goblinoids and half-orcs, quickly pulled into a fragile quiet for the Lieutenant. Most wore the hard-earned scars from countless battles.
Rhynos lifted his right hand into the air, motioning for the silence that already had fallen across the camp. Both moons were fully ripe in the dark summer sky; their light fell into the opening among the trees. A jagged campfire combated the moons’ illumination, twisting the Lieutenant’s face into warped caricatures of monstrosity.
With a sharp movement, the officer tossed the viper corpse at his underlings. Ten forms darted backward from the dead beast, knocking over others planted to the ground behind. Commotion echoed within the clearing and through the forest. In response, a hundred other surrounding encampments doused their fires.
The fearful soldiers stopped a few paces from the snake, a minor amount of discipline holding them to their spots. The soldiers knocked over and trampled remained with their faces to the ground, unwilling to move and draw any unneeded attention.
“You do realize why I have interrupted your reverie, do you not?” Rhynos’ voice was sickly sweet and layered with resentment. The Lieutenant did not cover his feelings of contempt toward the sub-human troops. Often, he would talk down to them as if they were children.
“No. Of course you do not, for none of you have what I have: Intelligence or a cognitive process of at least moderate range. I am no fool. Yet all of you are. That is why you are under my command. Understand?” Before the troops could even move, the officer continued, “So, I am interrupting your gathering, your respite from this secret war because once again, someone has attempted to take my life. I found that viper in my tent, more specifically in my bed.
“Luckily enough, I was not attempting to sleep when that critter decided to attack. So, what I need from you is simple. Which one of you traitorous beasts tried to kill me? Answer quickly and save yourselves from a lot of pain. I will offer a swift execution for this paltry transgression.” Rhynos ended his speech, crossing his arms.
Silent moments crawled by with no admittance.
A half-orc raised his hand slowly. The Lieutenant’s eyes narrowed along with his cruel lips. “It was you?!” he demanded.
“Nah, Sur.” The voice was guttural, the words nearly intelligible. Rhynos’ eyes flashed with rage forcing the half-orc to bow his head. “Jus’ tot ‘he snake ‘ould ‘ave ss…sss…slithered inte’ your tent. Is snake country.” Rhynos’ arms shot upward, hands carving like talons prepared to shred prey.
“I’m sorry, you thought?” the officer mocked. “I don’t think you did. Yes, it is snake country, congratulations for making a plain observation. The snake didn’t just s..s..slither its little self into my bed, fool. Who are you covering for?”
The half-orc’s head shot upward, fear beading upon his brow. His mouth agape, he knew what would happen. Before he could respond, a crackling energy danced across the Lieutenant’s hands and leapt outward. The bolt of energy slammed into the soldier’s face, shredding flesh and bone. The disfigured, nearly headless corpse crumpled, knocking more soldiers to the ground.
“Anyone else with any bright ideas?” Rhynos’ lips twitched into a cruel snarl. “No takers?” The warlock unleashed more blasts of energy, slaughter four more warriors. From the other campsites, hushed watchers noted the green flashes and cowered, thanking Ara’kull for not being within that Lieutenant’s command.
More minutes of silence passed, Rhynos’ caught his breath and channeling his rage into an impressive light display. Emerald arcs of energy danced back and forth across his fingers and between his hands. He harnessed the energy, drawing it along his arms and toward his chest. There, the energy compacted into a small sphere of energy and dissipated harmlessly.
“Sergeant!” A human in heavy armor dashed toward the Lieutenant, saluting briefly and awaiting his orders. Rhynos glared at the cattle and shouted, “If I cannot punish the perpetrator, they all will suffer. Sergeant, work these animals all night. Do not stop until we begin our march in the morning. These beasts do not sleep. If they sleep, they die. I will be watching.” Rhynos’ eyes flashed red momentarily, an incantation enhancing his vision.
“Sir, yes sir.” The Sergeant turned to begin drilling the men as the Lieutenant stormed toward his tent.
--oo--oo--
Rhynos sat naked at the huge desk he forced his troops to haul around. His hair became increasingly scattered while he struggled to devour the knowledge of an ancient tome.
His overly large and heavy bed sat in the middle of his tent. Three ill-gained concubines chained to the heavy oak. Each dozed in slumber, the flickering lights revealing their varied and eternal abuses. The Lieutenant would not even allow the women the decency of clothing, be it summer or winter.
There was a brief knock at the outside of the tent upon a wooden door-jam surrounding the entrance. Rhynos glanced upward, hands running through his black hair and he slid farther into his chair. The warlock reached for a fine cigar, lighting it with his candle.
He allowed a few moments to pass before demanding, “Enter.” Into the tent walked Sergeant Gardone. The human’s armor glistened with sweat and blood. The salty fluid drenched his brow as well. The Sergeant stopped at the edge of the desk, waiting for the command to sit. Rhynos’ waived his hand looking quite bored with the matter.
“Permission to speak freely, Sir?”
“Speak your mind, Sergeant. We did grow up together.” Rhynos took a long drag from the cigar, allowing the smoke to permeate toward the soldier.
“Of course, Sir. I’m afraid that you are overworking the troops.”
“So?”
“Well, Sir, morale is low. If you keep killing the soldiers, soon we will have none left. Four have dropped dead in the hours since your…declaration. They are overworked, underfed and generally malnourished.” Gardone grimaced a bit, worrying about his own fate.
“I care nothing for these animals. If they die, we will get more.”
“This is an undeclared war, Rhynos. The King has only allotted a set number of men to prevent the Trolls from gaining too much power.”
“Then we will get new recruits from the Orc-baron. You are wasting my time, Sergeant and you will take care to address me as is proper for my station.” Rhynos stood and stalked toward his bedding, still puffing on the cigar.
Gardone averted his eyes, quickly. “All I am saying, Sir, is. . .”
“You know Gardone,” Rhynos interjected, “I don’t believe you have asked your sister how she is doing.” The warlock grabbed one of the nude slaves by the hair, wrenching her face upward. Despite the bruises and lacerations, the familial resemblance was clear. The young woman’s hair curled, naturally black, naturally the same tone as the Sergeant’s.
The sergeant tried to change the topic, searching with his eyes until he noted the tome. “An Arcane History of the Cosmology of the Multiverse? That doesn’t sound like it pertains to our war and it doesn’t sound like light reading.” The Lieutenant completely ignored the unsubtle shift of topic. In response Gardone grimaced, not wishing to look at the broken, naked form of his sister nor the bare body of his commanding officer. His sister whined briefly as the warlock increased the pressure of his fingers within her hair. Rhynos released her head and brought his other arm across her face. The concubine made no sound, no move to fight back. Her face began swelling almost instantly.
“Really, Gardone,” the warlock started again. “She really was the best purchase I’ve ever made. You couldn’t imagine the things she can do with the seven fingers I’ve allowed her to keep.” Rhynos grinned as he led one of her hands slowly up his leg and burned it with the tip of his lit cigar. “Gardone, are you still here? You’re dismissed.”
With a grumble, the sergeant left the tent. Once outside he ran from the sounds of his Commander’s pleasure and the screams of his sister.
). So, there it is, in the 1st post of this page, finally complete. I will be moving on to crafting the first two chapters in its likeness over the next few weeks. And hopefully, will get around to some updates...maybe this weekend.
