Welcome everyone. This is a little four-parter I dreamed up. Starting with this story, we are introduced to our antagonists. Enjoy and review.
"My airs are a blaze for a chieftain's pyre"
In the dark of night, four conspirators met. They were Piyaamradu's brother Pamba, Ridoldo the Bard, Dukalon the Homunculus and Enaros, the former champion of Wilusa. Four were there but a fifth that only they knew of had yet to appear.
"It is arranged then! At midnight Chieftain Piyamaradu must expire!" spoke Dukalon. He was a blue Evabon of thirty-two years and a height of four feet and five inches. He was had chubby legs, an overhanging forehead, a dark left eye and a green right eye, dark hair, a beard and an abhorrent facial scar that had removed his nose.
"Aye, Aye. We all concur to that, Dukalon! But advise us. Where is the one who contacted you? The one you say coined this conspiracy we set into motion?" This time it was Pamba who had spoke. He had put on some weight and his beard and mustache had gained some length.
"He'll be here, Lord Pamba. Never fear." The sound of Ridoldo at his instrument caused Dukalon to turn to the bard. "In the name of the Mother, Ridoldo. Will you conclude that abiding plunkering?"
"This is a time for daggers, not music!" added Enaros. A forty-two year old gold skinned Evabon with a baldhead, dark eyes and a muscular body Enaros was one of the oldest of the conspirators.
"You will have daggers, Enaros, as shall we all and it will be those and not doggerel that kill the Chieftain of Evabon." Commented Dukalon.
"My airs are a blaze for a chieftain's pyre." Replied Ridoldo, his mad eyes staring with such a fury that two meanings of the word 'mad' could be seen on this green Evabon dressed in a buffoon's habiliment. His habiliment was of excellent materials and fantastic appearance. His jacket had been stained a bright purple color. To the jacket was added a short cardinal of crimson fabric lined with bright yellow. Upon his arms were grayish armlets and on his neck a bertha of the same material. Upon his feet was a pair of sandals and on his legs a sort of gaiters, the left being damask and the right yellow. On his head Ridoldo wore a cap and at his waist hung a brand. "We are lucky Piyamaradu is not the sort to place heads on poles should we fail."
"Our heads, bard?" asked Pamba. "Were my brother of that sort he wouldn't dare execute me and Dukalon. We who are the descendants of heroes have a better chance of living than youself and Enaros."
That comment only caused Enaros to stand up and grab Pamba by the throat. "I wouldn't mind your arrogance, Pamba, if you weren't so barefaced about it!" He spat. "The thought of you as Chieftain of Evabon, even as a cipher makes the thought of banishment all the better. Why I ought to gut you right now!"
"Silence you fools!" hushed Dukalon. "Someone approaches!" Indeed the footsteps of someone approaching could be heard.
"Our arcane backer, no doubt." Commented Enaros. "But still…"
"Weapons ready!" exclaimed Ridoldo. "If it be not he then whoever it is shall lay dead in a ditch."
"It will be quick then, Ridoldo, for my brand is dipped in bane." Stated Dukalon.
"Like your parlance, my dear dwarf. Like your many forked tongue." Said the stranger. A small person, similar in appearance to a Bolkin or a Wolo, the person was without a doubt a troll.
"Ah, my fellow collaborators. Allow me to introduce the concluding aspect in our well laid plans: he calls himself Grygory Grygion." Dukalon's introduction caused raised brows from the other three. Was this the Homunculus' idea of a joke?
"Pray be ensconced, cavaliers." Dukalon alone took a seat, on a nearby rock, while the rest remained standing. Grygion merely continued on. "I may not look it but I am more powerful than you can possibly imagine. When all is done, Piyamaradu will be dead and Pamba here will be Chieftain of Evabon."