Thralls of a Dread Lord (1.90T)

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.

Here is last week’s entry.

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The Dread Lord stormed toward Ushochhushi like an avalanche of ebon metal, swinging a blade that a bull Ogre would have trouble wielding. The astonished faces of thousands of Fellspawn, frozen in shock and disbelief were reflected in that terrible weapon as it descended. They all knew what would happen next, and they all feared what would happen to them once Ushochhushi fell. The Dread Lord would not take kindly to anyone witnessing this moment of weakness; one did not want to invite more rebellion, after all.

And so as the mind of every right-thinking spawn had turned to self-preservation in the face of the inevitable, what Ushochhushi did next came as a shock. Most of the Fellspawn were watching that blade, a weapon of legendary power that had ended the kingdoms of Dwarves, the nations of men, and taken the heads of the greatest of the elf lords. Most of them were picturing themselves facing the wrath of the Dread Lord, fearful of his Kasukaak.

But Retaak kept his gaze on the Seneschal, straining against the Dread Lord’s compulsion to do so. It felt as if he might rip a muscle with the strain of it. He could make out Albyursia standing half-hidden behind Ushochhushi, but little else. As the Dread Blade sliced downward, Ushochhushi shifted bracing himself and raising a small dull grey buckler in one smooth motion. Such was the economy of motion that the Dread Lord had no time to react. The Dread Blade swept down and smashed into the comically small shield that Ushochhushi presented. There was a sound like thunder and a flash of light. Retaak and every one of the Spawn around him fell.

“I’m sorry, Retaak, perhaps in the next–” Retaak heard Albyursia’s voice, a tickle in his ear. At that moment the compulsion broke. He surged to his feet. She wasn’t there. Most of the spawn around him were struggling on the ground. Movement drew Retaak’s eyes.

The Dread Lord stood before Ushochhushi, the Dread Blade stopped on the dull grey buckler. The armoured figure towered over the Seneschal. Blood dripped on the ground between them. Retaak saw that a slim blade, one of Ushochhushi’s favourites, had been thrust into the Dread Lord’s heart. Around them the ground was scorched and battered.

“How?” asked the Dread Lord, his voice pained and almost normal sounding.

“I told you when we started this,” answered Ushochhushi

“Bastard–” growled the Dread Lord, the eyes on his helm glowing flaring red.

As Retaak watched the great armoured figure surged up, grabbing at the blade. Ushochhushi pulled the weapon out with a deft motion. A fountain of blood spurted from the hold in armour. The Dread Lord stumbled, crashing to his knees, still reaching for Ushochhushi. He struggled, blood still pouring from him and then he fell.

It was then that Retaak spotted Albyursia.

…