Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.16T)
Welcome to my weekly serial. This is a rough draft that I am working on, for your reading pleasure.
It is a grim tale, so be warned.
Here is the first post from this series.
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For all of his faults, Wechegak was an excellent host. As Retaak sat down with him for negotiations, the rotund Goblin called for food and drink. Ashoktyaar and Uyage were seated at a different table, with some reluctance from the later, who did not want to leave Retaak alone. Soon platters heaped with mushrooms, bread, meat, and cheese appeared, followed by wine, retepaak, and sweet cider. In spite of himself, Retaak found his stomach growling. He could hear Ashoktyaar noisily chewing already. It was rude, however, to eat before the host and so he looked to Wechegak.
“I thank the Dread Lord for life and safety,” said Wechegak after the food arrive. “May his Empire grow.”
Retaak grunted. Wechegak raised a brow.
“May his empire grow,” said Retaak, allowing his host a small victory.
Wechegak smiled. “Let us feast together and discuss how I can be of service.”
Wechegak reached for the wine. Retaak reached for a bowl of steamed centipede legs. He ate them whole, crunching the chitin to get to the delicious meat inside, occasionally dipping them in brown gesaazug, a potent mushroom sauce.
“I would pay you well to hear Ushochhushi’s plans,” began Wechegak, eyes glittering. “How does a gold bar sound?”
Retaak knew that Wechegak was a shrewd negotiator; this offer was a ploy of some sort, perhaps to catch him off guard. He hesitated a moment, seeming to consider the offer, even though only a fool would risk the wrath of the Dread Lord’s seneschal for money.
Wechegak leaned toward him, leering. “I’ll find out quickly enough on my own Retaak, why not take the deal?”
“Ushochhushi compelled me,” said Retaak.
“Then why did you hesitate?”
“Oh, I tried to overcome his compulsion,” said Retaak, crushing a centipede leg loudly to punctuate his remark.
Wechegak’s eyes went wide and for a moment Retaak though the goblin might jump out of his chair. Breaking compulsion was one of the greatest taboos among the Spawn, something that a greedy coward who loved his position like Wechegak would not even want to be associated with, let alone try.
“Please do not do that here, Retaak.”
“But your offer was so tempting, Wechegak.”
The Goblin’s eyes narrowed as he realized that Retaak might be mocking him. he changed the subject rather than continue.
“How can I be of help?” asked Wechegak.
Retaak picked up a cup of retepaak and drank it in two gulps. The flavour was good, if a little too refined for his tastes. Retepaak was the favoured drink of the Lower Warrens, it rarely had any smoothness to it.
“I need to steal something from the elves,” said Retaak. “As you know, Gurgumaar is set to attack Oystkivat. We want to take advantage of the confusion and steal something from the city in the chaos. I can tell you no more.”
Wechegak nodded, but Retaak could tell he was secretly pleased at the information that he had gained thus far. Conformation of the coming attack would allow him to profit from it by being ready to supply Gurgumaar’s army and to offer the best price for the spoils that were hauled back to the Fellspawn Warrens. Wechegak was always ready to profit from war and death, as long as he was not at risk.
Retaak continued. “I need some one who can pick locks and has a keen eye for the kind of traps that Elves set. A good scout would be best. I’ll pay you this silver for their aid and a few tools that only you can provide.”
Retaak held up the second silver bar.
Wechegak smiled. “I have someone in mind.”
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