Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.38T)
Welcome to my weekly serial. This is a rough draft that I am working on, for your reading pleasure.
It is a fairly grim tale, so be warned.
Here is the first post from this series.
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They proceeded with caution, moving from building to building, making certain to leave as little evidence of their passage as possible. Not only did Retaak and his companions want to evade the Deathseeker, they also wished to avoid their fellow spawn. Ushochhushi had many enemies, not the least of which was Gurgumaar, the mighty ogre who led the attack on Oystkivat. It was imperative for them to escape with the elf Albyursia Pástyamóz without alerting anyone.
By the time they reached the shadow of Greyrock, the mighty fortress that loomed over the town like an angry giant, the Spawn were laying siege to it. Nimble Goblins scaled the cliffs from which they fortress was carved, braving deadly arrows and boiling oil. Hearty orcs scaled grapnel lines fire up onto the high walls by powerful ballista, racing against the defenders seeking to cut them down. Ogre bulls in siege armour rushed through the gate maze that led up into the fortress, battered ceaselessly through murder holes while they navigated the clever traps set by the elves. A few spawn would make it to the top, Retaak knew, only to be cut down before they could gain a foothold. Greyrock was built to give every advantage to the defender.
“That’s a long way to fall,” said Ashoktyaar, shaking his head. As they watched a steady stream of orcs and goblins seemed to rain down from the walls, dislodged by the defenders.
Retaak winced as he saw one figure, a hob or orc, by the size of it get pushed from the wall by spears; the tiny speck bounced off the walls and the rocky cliff below a dozen times before plunging into the moat below. It was a terrible waste of a warrior strong enough, and courageous enough to make the long climb, even if Gurgumaar did take the names of those who touched the battlements and reward their clans.
“Greyrock is only surpassed by the Dread Lord’s own citadel,” said Uyage. “We have few siege engines that can even damage the walls and our bows do not have the range to even hit the elves up on those battlements.
“If it is so futile, why are we attacking?” asked Uyaashie, frowning through her glasses.
“To Gurgumaar and the spawn who follow him, death in the service of The Dread Lord is its own reward,” answered Kuzat. “It is the ultimate demonstration of loyalty. Their bloodlines are exalted and their deaths honour our master.”
Retaak almost spat at the mention of their master. If the Dread Lord cared to take Greyrock, he could lead the assault himself.
“Why don’t they use the secret tunnels underneath the prison?” asked Uyaashie.
“A good question,” said Retaak. “Ushochhushi is more cunning than Gurgumaar, but the Dread Lord’s Right Hand certainly knows that their are hidden passages into the fortress. He has the resources to pay for the knowledge; I’m sure Wechegak could even sell it to him. But the secret passages are narrow and winding; moving more than a few spawn through them simply invites the elves to flood them. Besides, I think that Gurgumaar chooses those who have the ‘honour’ of attacking the fortress directly as a way of thinning out those who are a threat to him in his own ranks.”
Before he could continue one of the great chains that the spawn were climbing was sundered from the wall. A chorus of shouts and screams cut through the din as hundreds of spawn fell to their deaths at once. Retaak turned away, sickened.
“If the elves discover us in the tunnels we will share the same fate as those fools,” said Uyage after a moment. “The waters will not deposit us gently in the moat. we must hope that our patron’s information is good.”
Retaak nodded. “Enough, this is folly disguised as honour and tragedy as spectacle. It will serve us well as a distraction. Let us be about our task.”
One by one his companions nodded, following him into the shadow of the mighty fortress.
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