Index:
Episode 1 - The League of Iron assembles
Episode 3 - Legacy of the Veil Breakers
Episode 7 - Home is where the hearth is
Episode 8 - Last of the Old Ones
Episode 12 - Mistress of Flesh
Episode 15 - March of the parasites
Sordid power.
Today, the fall wind serendipitously escaped a fate most despicable. The Aerial traveled across many a horse's daily gait worth of olden forest. Whirling over fields of rotting bones and rusting armor, he turned back right before bashing his head at the gates of Zhul city.
His sister Miasm, another of the Aerials, had already taken to the streets and soiled the rooftops. Disgusted at the dangling gibbets and horrid bulwarks, she spat her bile all over the city walls. Bathed in rotting blood, the enchanted stones became shrouded in foul greenish murk, nigh impossible to see through.
Yet, even Miasm's foggy reign had an end and the Aerial retreated before Sun's glowing crown.
Morning was announced by the Wyrm's Horn, its terrifying howl waking up Bone Raiders, serfs, and slaves alike. The latter soon joined the Horn and their lamentations echoed across the city, oft silencing the relentless hammering of smithies, the screech of loaded with merchandise oxen carts, and the boots of Thulm, marching off to go on a raid.
At the city's center there stood a tall, baleful tower. Ten thousand jeweled skeletons were entombed in its shining silver, gold, and precious stones walls. Once a warrior, a ranger, a wizard; these sorrowful remains became symbols of the Overlords' supremacy, their overwhelming power and victory over the weak.
Over twelve elbows tall, Zhul's Overlord gazed down upon his domain and flexed muscles both of flesh and magick. The elaborate helm did hide his long and well-groomed dark mane, yet the visor was up. Morning's tired sun shone upon a chiseled face and hooked like the beak of a carrion bird's nose.
Skin whiter than pale mountain snow, his vile grin revealed two rows of filed, black teeth. His yellow eyes blinked with spiteful intent and somewhere, far across the cityscape, a Bone Raider of insufficient certitude writhed in pain, his body consumed by blueish flame.
“I won't suffer weakness in my domain...” - thought the Overlord.
“Yours... if you can keep it, Lord!” - a woman's malevolent voice snickered in his mind.
He needn't look back to know that the Red Hag, mistress of Thulm's flesh witches, traversed one of her Gate-Walls and stepped inside his throne room. The Overlord casually inspected one of his prized skeletons, a sorcerer he'd slain himself and personally entombed in the tower's upper wall, while the hag waited. Two sapphires met his gaze from the polished, encrusted with silver sheets skull, and he turned around with a smile.
There was no comparison between him and the last Overlord, for he personally killed his enemies.
“True,” - with snark in her thought said the Hag - “yet he got to rule much longer than anyone else.”
“And what was his reward in the end, oh Hag of hags?! The fool died like a weakling, in his sleep.” - Spat out the Overlord, as he slowly walked towards his throne, and sat on it.
There was a muffled moan coming from the towering chair and his eyes hid another spiteful gleam; he reminded himself to take care of this, later.
Her alabaster skin painted dark-red and tattooed head cleanly shaven, the Hag sat near his throne with her legs crossed. A gnarled staff lay atop her thick with muscle thighs, while she tightened her covered in looted magickal amulets brassiere. Though wide, the former couldn't quite contain her rather ample bosom and the Overlord raised his eyebrow.
“You are already with my child, Hag. What more do you want?”
“Nothing,” - cackled the voluptuous witch - “and... everything!”
“No one would have a thing in my domain, for it is I who own everything.” - With deathless calm stated the Overlord, and the Red Hag wriggled under his wincing eyes.
“Only... wheeze... a Red Hag... cough... can birth a real Overlord...” - The Hag uttered out loud, as she writhed in pain.
“Only an Overlord can father another Overlord.” - Spat out he with cold, sepulchral voice, and released her from his baneful gaze.
She regained herself, placed one hand on her belly, and proceeded to touch the marble floor with her forehead. Thus, fully prostrated before his throne, the Hag calmed her breath and crossed eyes with The Overlord. Split tongue licking his sharp teeth, the master of all Thulm's intent could not be read even by a witch of her quality.
“All will be as my Lord wishes.” - Whispered she and once more fixed her brassiere, one hand reaching for the gnarled staff.
The Red Hag could only touch her Overlord's mind with his concession. She couldn't overpower him even with the full might of her Flesh Stave. Forged from magickally petrified wizard's blood and wrapped in witches' rope made of dried sorcerer's guts, this staff increased her powers twofold. The recent addition of a red-iron sphere encrusted with thirteen frozen by embalming spells Arkan kin eyes, gave her the ability to mercilessly exploit her minions' gaze.
However, none could dare think of the Overlord as somebody's underling.
They shared a moment of calm, each swimming in their own, secretive thoughts, until the Guard Master knocked thrice at the throne room's armored gates. The two Bone Raiders who stood guard beside the entrance acknowledged their commander's presence and let the towering warrior in.
With soft clank, the Guard Master marched forth, unsheathed longsword on his belt, and mid-way between gate and throne, knelt before his Lord.
One head shorter than his master, this man was clad in heavy armor made from polished, magickally-strengthened bones. Hands, legs, skulls, and pelvises, these were gathered and following each battle, endowed with protection against Father Time's touch. Smiths plated these grim materials in layers, over the forged from red-iron, Thulm riveted chainmail.
The armor design was similar to the Overlord's, but not entirely the same. While their chest plates, greaves, gauntlets, and pauldrons were nearly identical in both shape and thickness, what identified the Lord of all Thulm was his crowned helm. Its visor a thick, armored mask, crafted to commemorate the First Lord of the Thulm's terror-inducing visage, a circlet with thirteen spikes rested atop the conical full helm.
The Guard Master gazed upon this hallowed for his people crown, his eyes reflecting off its soft, blackish glimmer, and drew a long breath.
“My Lord, the tall-man with unmarred armor has arrived. He...” - the obedient warrior made a short pause, and his eyes sought the Overlord's permission to continue.
“He demands an audience, my Master!” - The warrior finished his report following a nod from the Overlord, and awaited his Lord's word.
“I will allow it.” - Bellowed the Overlord.
He released the head of his personal guard with a wave of his armored hand, and threw the Red Hag a chill look.
“Lord, it matters not how this one looks or what nonsensical words he spouts.” - She whispered inside his mind and, hands resting on her gnarled staff stood up, when he allowed it.
“A useful idiot, my Lord, must be exploited...”
“Until they are utile no more.”
The gate opened again and, following the imposing Guard Master, a knightly figure entered the throne room. Indeed, just as the Bone warrior reported, this tall-man was clad in impeccable-looking suit of full plate armor. The masterfully forged glow-steel was painted all white; its golden edges glittered, and even the knight's weapon belt was encrusted in this precious metal.
To be allowed before the Overlord, one not of the Thulm had to relinquish their arms. Therefore, the Guard Master carried this whitest of knights' weapon; a longsword with jeweled guard and diamond topped pommel, sheathed in an elaborate, spotless sheath. As a matter of fact, there was not one speck of dirt on the knight's armored boots either. A clear sign that this one thought of his outward image a tad bit too much.
“Thy bidding is done, oh Lord of Peace!” - The knight proclaimed, his voice trembling with ill-concealed fanaticism, as he knelt before the Overlord.
The visor of his shining helm was up and revealed a teary-eyed, smiling human face.
“Oh... do regale us with the success of your quest, Neldaeir friend.”
Hands clasped before his chestplate, the human knight fully prostrated himself before the Overlord. This display of subservience was atypical of Thulm men; even the lowliest of warriors knelt on one knee before their master and commander.
“I bring thee, oh Lord, tidings of great joy! The Thirteen have been released from their unjust imprisonment and are free to grace Alkiorn with their benevolence, once more.”
It was time for the Hag to raise an eyebrow. Indeed, for the longest time she exchanged missives with the Veil Breakers, until they vowed to do her bidding. However, even through the empowerment of her Flesh Stave, she couldn't reach the Decaying ones. Something was afoot, or she wasn't the most powerful among the flesh witches.
“Thou art quite sure of their release, Neldaeir?”
“Why, whatever do you mean, beautified Lady which? I let the benevolent mages inside a nearby fort, so they could bestow Peace upon its debauched denizens!”
“Our Knight speaks true, my Hag.” - Rumbled the Overlord, his smiling eyes aglow.
The Crown of Thulm gave its ruler the ability to pierce through lies, thus the Lord knew that this useful tall-man deceived him not.
The Red Hag straightened her back and assumed a casting stance. Her strong legs apart and stave raised above her shrouded in reddish flames head, she chanted:
Obey, obey, oh thirteen souls full of glee,
Thine mistress's hate commands thee!
Recall thine sight of place and person,
To enchain and murder is your only excretion!
Spread, spread thine cadaverous breath,
For all enemies of Thulm will suffer death!
All light in two paces around her faded as soon as she uttered the last word. The stave became full of red fire, and yet, even after many breaths had passed, nothing happened. There were no ghostly emanations full of hate floating before the Red Hag, not even a curst wizardly voice or a gleeful vision of murder gracing this hall.
The silence was nigh deafening.
Most of her magick spent, the Hag was forced to acquiesce, yet the breath her stave touched the marble floor, something rather unexpected occurred. A tiny gleam of blue light appeared before her and, before she could react, exploded! Indeed, powerful the Red Hag was, and thus with a raised hand, she blocked this uncalled for emanation. Yet, such was the force of this magickal flare, that even with the aid of her Stave, the Hag was pushed back one pace.
“I... don't understand what has occurred! How is this even possible, my beautified Lady witch?!” - with unadulterated surprise reacted the knight.
The Red Hag hissed and was successful in her attempt to fully conceal both her temporary weakness, and her broken little finger. Her Lord had reacted not; perhaps confident in her ability to defend herself and him from any hostile magick. This she'd demonstrated many a time, and during the reign of three Overlords.
“Everything is well, knightly Neldaeir. I shall bestow upon thee another quest... on the morrow.” - The Overlord lied with practiced calm, and pointed at the gates - “Retire for now! Cleanse thine body and feast upon the delicacies our faithful serfs prepared for thee.”
Another and much wider smile graced the tall man's face, as he rose from his knees.
“I cannot wait to achieve even greater victories on your behest, oh Lord of Peace!”
With a graceful bow the knight walked aback, facing the Overlord as was customary for a non-Thulm. Only at the gate did he allow himself to raise his head, and walk down the main corridor. A breath before the gate was shut, the Overlord witnessed how his Guard Master gave the knight his sword. The Lord of Zhul could clearly see that his faithful warrior was nigh overcome with pure disgust.
“Traitors deserve the short rope!” - The Guard Master's eyes revealed what he thought of the Neldaeir.
As soon as they were alone in the throne room, the Overlord threw his Hag a questioning glare.
“Filthy creation magick, my Lord.”
“Then the Veil Breakers are lost. My enemy is acting quick, much quicker than I had imagined. Their powerful host is probably marching to lay siege on Zhul, as we speak.”
“Only those capable of wielding creation magicks could best the Veil Breakers. That, and block them from alerting me, their mistress.”
There came another muffled squeal from his throne's armrest and the Overlord gripped it with all his strength.
“Leave me to strategize, Hag. Go commune with thy shackled flesh puppets, summon a daemon. Do everything in thy power, but find out who doomed the Decaying ones!”
Tired, the Red Hag scurried away and walked inside one of her Gate-Walls, fully disappearing from his sight. Then, and only then, did the Overlord lift his drenched in gore armored fist. What was left of the throne's armrest, a young elven woman, fell apart before his eyes. Crushed by his iron muscles, her limbs, flesh, and organs, hit the marble floor with a loud squish.
“Guard, call the serfs!,” - annoyed, the Overlord addressed one of the warriors with his blood dripping finger - “and inform the Flesh Procurer that I need another armrest. She better have something sturdier...”
***
Dear reader, if you liked this story, you might enjoy my published work.
This is one of the most vividly descriptive pieces of writing I've seen from you. I can picture the locations, the iconography, and especially the grim decor. The Overlord and the Red Hag both are clearly pictured in my mind with voices to match, and his throne of flesh and bone is one of the most gruesome things I can imagine. The characters themselves were highly entertaining to read, too. The Overlord and the Red Hag feel like the kinds of villains you'd see in classic dark fantasy epics, the types who are every bit as likely to try and crush you where you stand as they are to corrupt and tempt you to their side. It's good stuff.
Unfortunately I did have a little difficulty with some of the sentence structure early on, though. Usually the little slipups that come from English being your tertiary language are minimal and easily looked over, but the descriptive passages at the beginning of this chapter were one of those rare cases where there were so many instances of unusual wording packed in so close together that it became distracting because I had to reread those sections a few times to figure out what you were trying to show. The imagery and mood you're trying to convey in those passages are fantastic, but it could use some cleanup to help it read more clearly.
I really liked this! The imagery is some of the best you've written, Black Knight. Well done!