Phantom of the North
Chapter 4 Vengeance
"Ah, Bryon, Drekas, glad you could join us!" Bryon's head turned toward the speaker. She was a thin, lean woman, with almond-shaped brown eyes. Her lips were cracked with either the woman's ignorance of their condition or her wanting it that way, Bryon didn't know. However, she wore enough insignias to make a general feel heavy.
"Tamilis," Bryon bowed as he spoke, and Drekas followed suit.
"I was told one of you had a message for me," Tamilis said, her hand dropping to her hips, and Bryon's eyes followed, his face lit up with a smile, and a conniving look in his eyes.
Drekas handed his note to her. She didn't say anything, but gestured for the two to take seats.
Bryon went for one seat next to Tamilis, but another man, clad in leather plate, quickly sat in it, glaring at Bryon. Bryon stared at the leather plated man, then moved, with Drekas, to other side of the room. Bryon took a moment to take in the sheer magnitude of the room, while Drekas paid attention.
"What's the combat status of our troops, General?" Tamilis asked.
A surly, old dwarf stood from his seat next to Bryon, "Most are weary, or wounded. We managed to take their catapults out of the battle, but we lost many men in doing so. If we keep winning victories at that high a price, we'll lose."
Bryon tilted his head, and glared at the General, "You should be a morale officer!" He quipped, then to the President, "Why am I here?"
Tamilis sighed, and her hands clenched into fists. General Brewton turned towards Bryon, ready to hurl one of his famous insults, but a glare from Tamilis stopped him, "You are here to help. I was impressed by your skill in the main battle, and I think you could be of use to the war effort."
"Is that so?" Bryon responded, his voice's pitch dropping and his eyes darkening, "I lost my whole family in the Arm wars. I don't want to participate in one again."
Tamilis's hands gripped the arm rests of her chair, and she ground her teeth, trying to keep her aggravation concealed, "We thought you might be able to do us a favor. The leader of the opposing force."
"You want us to kill him?" Drekas asked, assuming Tamilis's objective.
The leader could be a 'her', Bryon thought. Leaders weren't necessarily men. Unther was a good example.
Bryon nodded, his head going up and down at a slow pace, "Cut off the head of the viper." he let it trail off, the intended response moving through the inhabitants of the Council Room.
"Kevin?" Tamilis asked, turning toward the armored man at her right, "Go with them. See them to the enemy base. The Arbiters, and remaining soldiers will lead an immediate counter-attack. The enemy should crumble for a moment, buying you enough time to get to the command center."
The leather plated man nodded, and Bryon grimaced. What a team we'll make. A Half-orc barbarian, a war-torn ranger, and a coveting S. O. B. Just great!
"Alright, I assume everyone knows where they need to be?" Tamilis asked. When no one responded, "Good. Let's do it!" She rose, and everyone in the room stood, and for a first, so did Bryon. She was a hot piece for sure, but she was also a very honorable woman. And that was what Bryon stood for.
* * * *
The iron grate lifted from the ground. Ten fingers lifted the sewer grate up, and a pair of eyes appeared. They scanned the area, and, deeming it safe, shifted the grate to the left. Kevin crawled from the sewer first. He then helped Drekas out, and ignored Bryon.
"The command tent's over there," Kevin said, his hand pointing to a large, red, octagonal tent. It must've been at least 20 feet in diameter.
"Quite the tent," Bryon quipped, "There an outhouse in there, too?"
Kevin's eyes scanned the area, picking out a pair of orc guards facing the battle; away from them, "I'll take care of the guards."
"I do not think the leader will be much trouble," Drekas added, his axe and hammer already drawn.
Kevin turned towards Bryon and wagged his finger at him, "Don't get cocky."
Bryon's mouth dropped, as he looked between Drekas and Kevin, "I didn't do anything!" He said.
Kevin rushed off to the guards, while Drekas went for the tent flap. Bryon shrugged, his mouth still low. Crouched, and walking on the balls of his feet, he crossed toward the tent, and nearly made Drekas jump in surprise.
The pair parted the tent flap just a little, and peered inside. Three; all hooded and crouching around maps. There were plenty of shadows cast by the figures, as the only light in the room was fro ma lamp on the map table. Little, to no furniture, and a second tent flap on the opposite side. No problem. Almost too easy. aah, forget it. Life is easy!
Bryon slipped in, and darted for the shadows near the entrance. Drekas followed suit. Peering toward the maps, Bryon attempted to catch words or phrases of what they were discussing. Drekas, unknown to Bryon, attempted to get around to block the other exit. He failed.
"Why must Tamilis send thugs to stab me in the back?" A voice, cold. It seemed to pierce Bryon's heart. Then, he noticed Drekas. Dammit!
One of the hooded figures lowered his hood revealing a young, battle- scarred, pale face. Human, maybe five foot eight, and muscled. This won't be quite so easy.
"Ortok, Ferenq, deal with him." The other two threw back their cloaks, revealing studded armor, strong swords and sable shields.
Bryon drew his scathing knife, and hurled it at one's head. It hit hard, and sunk threw the hard skull. Bryon would probably never get the knife again. On came the other, straight for him, the new threat. He forgot comepletely about Drekas. The orc was fast. Drekas was faster. One hit to the back of the had with Drekas's hammer kept the orc down.
Bryon stood from the shadows, sword drawn and eyes searching for the leader. Bryon found him, hunched in the far corner. The man spoke, "Fools all! You cannot see what this land has become! Do you want to know? It was a bloody field long before I got here. Khelwana, Tamilis's mother, led a revolt on their leader. Massacred the only leader they ever knew. I came to help them, to govern them. And they banished me, too. But, there was a price for their victory. I live again!" The man cast away his cloak, revealing bare skin. The naked man's skin however caught Bryon's attention. It was almost 'boiling'.
"I live again, only to inflict my curse, for what THEY did to me! Do you understand. what it's like? Having to live in fear, of them coming for you? I won't let it happen. I won't!" The man hunches over again and from his back burst three spikes, his wrists conform into two large claws and his skin hardens turning a color between orange and red. His legs suddenly became reverse jointed, with a strange crunching sound. And he grew straight up at least two feet. The horns nearly brushed the tent's roof. "And NO one can stop me!!
Bryon shook his head, "It's never easy is it?" He asked Drekas. He got only a frown as a response before all broke into Hell.
Chapter 4 Vengeance
"Ah, Bryon, Drekas, glad you could join us!" Bryon's head turned toward the speaker. She was a thin, lean woman, with almond-shaped brown eyes. Her lips were cracked with either the woman's ignorance of their condition or her wanting it that way, Bryon didn't know. However, she wore enough insignias to make a general feel heavy.
"Tamilis," Bryon bowed as he spoke, and Drekas followed suit.
"I was told one of you had a message for me," Tamilis said, her hand dropping to her hips, and Bryon's eyes followed, his face lit up with a smile, and a conniving look in his eyes.
Drekas handed his note to her. She didn't say anything, but gestured for the two to take seats.
Bryon went for one seat next to Tamilis, but another man, clad in leather plate, quickly sat in it, glaring at Bryon. Bryon stared at the leather plated man, then moved, with Drekas, to other side of the room. Bryon took a moment to take in the sheer magnitude of the room, while Drekas paid attention.
"What's the combat status of our troops, General?" Tamilis asked.
A surly, old dwarf stood from his seat next to Bryon, "Most are weary, or wounded. We managed to take their catapults out of the battle, but we lost many men in doing so. If we keep winning victories at that high a price, we'll lose."
Bryon tilted his head, and glared at the General, "You should be a morale officer!" He quipped, then to the President, "Why am I here?"
Tamilis sighed, and her hands clenched into fists. General Brewton turned towards Bryon, ready to hurl one of his famous insults, but a glare from Tamilis stopped him, "You are here to help. I was impressed by your skill in the main battle, and I think you could be of use to the war effort."
"Is that so?" Bryon responded, his voice's pitch dropping and his eyes darkening, "I lost my whole family in the Arm wars. I don't want to participate in one again."
Tamilis's hands gripped the arm rests of her chair, and she ground her teeth, trying to keep her aggravation concealed, "We thought you might be able to do us a favor. The leader of the opposing force."
"You want us to kill him?" Drekas asked, assuming Tamilis's objective.
The leader could be a 'her', Bryon thought. Leaders weren't necessarily men. Unther was a good example.
Bryon nodded, his head going up and down at a slow pace, "Cut off the head of the viper." he let it trail off, the intended response moving through the inhabitants of the Council Room.
"Kevin?" Tamilis asked, turning toward the armored man at her right, "Go with them. See them to the enemy base. The Arbiters, and remaining soldiers will lead an immediate counter-attack. The enemy should crumble for a moment, buying you enough time to get to the command center."
The leather plated man nodded, and Bryon grimaced. What a team we'll make. A Half-orc barbarian, a war-torn ranger, and a coveting S. O. B. Just great!
"Alright, I assume everyone knows where they need to be?" Tamilis asked. When no one responded, "Good. Let's do it!" She rose, and everyone in the room stood, and for a first, so did Bryon. She was a hot piece for sure, but she was also a very honorable woman. And that was what Bryon stood for.
* * * *
The iron grate lifted from the ground. Ten fingers lifted the sewer grate up, and a pair of eyes appeared. They scanned the area, and, deeming it safe, shifted the grate to the left. Kevin crawled from the sewer first. He then helped Drekas out, and ignored Bryon.
"The command tent's over there," Kevin said, his hand pointing to a large, red, octagonal tent. It must've been at least 20 feet in diameter.
"Quite the tent," Bryon quipped, "There an outhouse in there, too?"
Kevin's eyes scanned the area, picking out a pair of orc guards facing the battle; away from them, "I'll take care of the guards."
"I do not think the leader will be much trouble," Drekas added, his axe and hammer already drawn.
Kevin turned towards Bryon and wagged his finger at him, "Don't get cocky."
Bryon's mouth dropped, as he looked between Drekas and Kevin, "I didn't do anything!" He said.
Kevin rushed off to the guards, while Drekas went for the tent flap. Bryon shrugged, his mouth still low. Crouched, and walking on the balls of his feet, he crossed toward the tent, and nearly made Drekas jump in surprise.
The pair parted the tent flap just a little, and peered inside. Three; all hooded and crouching around maps. There were plenty of shadows cast by the figures, as the only light in the room was fro ma lamp on the map table. Little, to no furniture, and a second tent flap on the opposite side. No problem. Almost too easy. aah, forget it. Life is easy!
Bryon slipped in, and darted for the shadows near the entrance. Drekas followed suit. Peering toward the maps, Bryon attempted to catch words or phrases of what they were discussing. Drekas, unknown to Bryon, attempted to get around to block the other exit. He failed.
"Why must Tamilis send thugs to stab me in the back?" A voice, cold. It seemed to pierce Bryon's heart. Then, he noticed Drekas. Dammit!
One of the hooded figures lowered his hood revealing a young, battle- scarred, pale face. Human, maybe five foot eight, and muscled. This won't be quite so easy.
"Ortok, Ferenq, deal with him." The other two threw back their cloaks, revealing studded armor, strong swords and sable shields.
Bryon drew his scathing knife, and hurled it at one's head. It hit hard, and sunk threw the hard skull. Bryon would probably never get the knife again. On came the other, straight for him, the new threat. He forgot comepletely about Drekas. The orc was fast. Drekas was faster. One hit to the back of the had with Drekas's hammer kept the orc down.
Bryon stood from the shadows, sword drawn and eyes searching for the leader. Bryon found him, hunched in the far corner. The man spoke, "Fools all! You cannot see what this land has become! Do you want to know? It was a bloody field long before I got here. Khelwana, Tamilis's mother, led a revolt on their leader. Massacred the only leader they ever knew. I came to help them, to govern them. And they banished me, too. But, there was a price for their victory. I live again!" The man cast away his cloak, revealing bare skin. The naked man's skin however caught Bryon's attention. It was almost 'boiling'.
"I live again, only to inflict my curse, for what THEY did to me! Do you understand. what it's like? Having to live in fear, of them coming for you? I won't let it happen. I won't!" The man hunches over again and from his back burst three spikes, his wrists conform into two large claws and his skin hardens turning a color between orange and red. His legs suddenly became reverse jointed, with a strange crunching sound. And he grew straight up at least two feet. The horns nearly brushed the tent's roof. "And NO one can stop me!!
Bryon shook his head, "It's never easy is it?" He asked Drekas. He got only a frown as a response before all broke into Hell.