Citadel's Conquest
By:Lynn Osburn
(DISCLAMER: Aladdin....Disney property...you know the drill.)
A shrieking cry like a dieing animal resounded through the Black Sands as the invading army flowed over the dunes. Their white and green robes shone in the moonlight as if thousands of ghosts were rushing onward. At their head, a beautiful white stallion rose on it's hind legs. Atop it sat a white robed woman, her face invisible from under her cowl. She raised her hand and pointed towards the forbidding fortress and the army followed her lead.
Suddenly, the sands beneath their feet shifted! The horses balked and screamed their fright as green hands rose from bellow, grabbing soldiers and pulling them under. The army refused to stop, and brought their swords down on the attacking ghouls. Still the mamlucks rose, raising their weapons and burying them in a hilt of human flesh. Blood welled up like giant roses as the bodies of slain men and women fell.
Suddenly, the robed lady on the field raised her hands and whispered soft words. From above, a massive eagle hawk dove into the fray, ripping the eyes from the animated corpses and soaring again into the sky. It spotted the woman and landed placidly on her shoulder.
"Good work Gwion." She said as she patted the hawk and took the eyes from his talons. "Now, let us see the state of our enemy." As she held the malevolent eyes out, they glowed silver and showed her the face of a handsome black haired man, darkly dressed, with an ugly scowl on his face. He leaned over the edge of a balcony, watching the battle unfold bellow.
"Well well. It appears my advances have no put our friend in a receptive mood." She chuckled and snapped her fingers. A sheet of paper and quill pen materialized and she wrote down a quick message. "Deliver this to his majesty Lord Mozenrath, and inform him of my position."
The hawk took the message in it's beak and took off into the sky, casting it's shadow over the battlefield.
Mozenrath slammed his fist into the balcony handle, charring the marble with the flame of his gauntlet. "Where the damned Hell did they come from?" He shouted as his familiar, the sand eel Xerxes, flew by his side.
"From over sand dune?" The eel commented and was rewarded with a backhand into the wall.
"Damn damn damn damn!" Mozenrath sat down in his throne, glaring at his attending mamlucks as though it was all their fault. They had appeared from nowhere, without so much as a trumpet blast or declaration of war. Within three days this mysterious force had conquered nearly half his lands, and the only sign of a leader was a hooded figure astride a white horse.
As soon as he was within range, his magic detecting crystals had exploded. The shadowed demons who lurked in the decrepit buildings were pushed back by his very presence. The hooded general had begun to burn buildings like some odd form of purification.
Mozenrath clenched his hands and snarled in rage, throwing a magic bolt and incinerating a bookcase. ~When I find the leader of this rabble, I swear I'll.~
"The bird boss the bird!" Xerxes flew into the room, his little gray fin pointing out the window.
"What?" Mozenrath followed his eels pointing and saw the largest hawk he'd ever seen heading straight for them. He chuckled manically. "I think it's time for a little target practice don't you Xerxes?"
The eel laughed. "French fried birdie!"
But the hawk dropped it's package before Mozenrath could even fire. The scroll of paper landed at Mozenrath's feet, tied with a green ribbon. Curious, Mozenrath picked up the scroll and untied it. "What joke is he trying to play?" The page was blank.
Suddenly the page went ablaze, forming into the shape of the hooded leader Mozenrath had seen from afar. "Lord Mozenrath. I am the leader of the Kelti army. You are ordered to surrender to our forces or be trampled under our foot. You are to send word back with my familiar Gwion."
Mozenrath looked up to see the monstrous raptor staring him as if he were a nothing more than a rat. Mozenrath smirked in a way only he was capable of. "So..he wants a reply does he?"
She looked down at the burn embers of her precious Gwion. All that was left were a few soft feathers and a talon. "Stupid little man." She whispered and waved the scout away. She picked up the remains of her hawk and walked into the back of her tent. Sitting at the back, bathed in firelight and wrapped in smoking incense, was a small alter.
She placed Gwion on the alter and threw a packet of sage onto the fire. It crackled and burned as the strong scent filled the tent. She clasped her hands together and kneeled in worship.
"Kirridwen, my patron.." She spoke proudly. A strong burst of wind waved through the tent, spinning the incense smoke around and around the woman. Her hood fell away from her face, revealing mass curls of thick red hair. Her strong, firm features were topped with deep green eyes and set atop lush red lips.
Gwion's remains turned bright orange, bursting into a ball of flame and transforming into the shape of a hawk. She put her hands into the flame and drew out a raptor of flesh and blood. Gwion shook his head and chirped inquisitively.
"All is well little one." She said as she placed him back on her shoulders. "That stupid fool doesn't realize what he's up against. So be it." She lifted her face to the moonlight and snarled. "He will know the wrath Kirri!"
Mozenrath looked over his new troops. These were a new breed of mamluck he'd been creating from those unlucky Kelti who died on his territory. They were not the bones and tattered cloths his pervious minions had been. These at least had flesh and bulk on them. The same deadened look filled their dull eyes as Mozenrath waved his hand and the went off.
"Their advancing more and more every day. If this keeps up that damned Kelti will be on my throne within the week!" Mozenrath shouted out to no one. He waved his hand and a map glowed in front of him. It detailed every inch of his lands, over half of it covered in little white dots which represented his opposing army. The rest of it, scrunched up around his fortress, were little black dots representing the mamlucks.
"It's like playing a game of chess! Except I've got only the pawns and one king!" Mozenrath waved his fingers and the map vanished. His new mamlucks were having little more luck than his old. The only advantage came when their old comrades saw what had become of their friends, some of the troops balked. But that, at best, cut the Kelti's troops down by a few hundred. He was still outnumbered.
Mozenrath tapped his fingers on the edge of a table. His mood had been further soured when he saw the white robed leader sitting atop his stallion, with that damned massive hawk on his shoulders. ~At least now I have a better idea of what I'm up against. If he's powerful enough to bring a being back to life after it's been killed by dark magic.~
That qualified his adversary as a priest of some sort, perhaps even a cleric. "Perfect. A Holy Warrior!" Mozenrath sulked. No wonder his powers had little effect. Depending on what god this military served, Mozenrath was risking a lot more than just his kingdom by standing in their way. Divine entities had a way of getting very violent when some intervened with their followers.
Muttering a string of curses that crossed language boundaries, Mozenrath lifted his hand and absently petted Xerxes. "So it comes down to risking the wrath of a god, or allowing these barbarians to run me over." Nether suggestion sat well on his stomach.
"I have taken on gods before!" He said, his ego speaking for him. "And they are not as all might as their myths make them out to be. All I need is a weakness.and a way to exploit it."
Mozenrath wandered through his lab, fingering through his collection. "What do you think Xerxes? Perhaps a few well placed crystals of Ix? Maybe offer a truce gift in the form of a thirdack wall tapestry?" He chuckled ruefully. Any of those simple traps were bound to be spotted by someone as experienced in magic as the Druii.
"What I need is something a bit more inventive." Mozenrath fingered a blue hilted sword with odd runes on the side. "Something to lull this gentleman into a false sense of security.and then crush him under my boot."
But nom it was much more complicated then that. Only yesterday the Kelti leader had sent a wave of power through the city that had turned hundreds of mamlucks to dust. The move had lost Mozenrath another city block and forced him to waste his own powers replacing the lost troops.
Mozenrath pick up a text on destructive magic. Just as he flipped open the first page, the entire Citadel shook with an explosion that sent Mozenrath sprawling across the floor. He lifted his cape to shield himself from the shattered glass containers that fell to the floor. "Damn it all to Hell!"
Mozenrath hurried downstairs to find his throne room a battle ground. The doors had exploded into a flood of white and green robes. They flung themselves into battle without a moments rest, seeking out the closest mamluck and cutting it down. Worse, once their blades touched his undead guards, they fell down in a useless heap, not even a finger didget moving.
Mozenrath's gauntlet flared and he flung his magic at the intruders. Painful screamed erupted as he hit his target, turning many to ash in seconds. "I'll show you what happens when you attack a sorcerer fortress you arrogant little." he prepared to fire again.
When out of no where a bolt of white energy knocked him from his feet. Mozenrath shook the ringing from his head and glared angrily at his attacker. "You!"
The white robed leader stood before him. Indeed, at such close quarters all Mozenrath could see was the white robe. Two hands, fingertips surging with magic, were pointed straight at him, ready and waiting.
"Of all those to speak of arrogance. Physician heal thyself!" He fired another bolt of power, throwing Mozenrath into a wall.
"Upstart!" Mozenrath pushed himself up from the rubble and flung his blue black energy, catching the leader in the chest. The figure doubled over, groaning in pain and hanging onto a column for support. "I'm going to enjoy ripping the flesh from you piece by piece, and then feeding your entrails to my familiar." His next hit sent the robed one across the floor, sending tile in every direction.
The figure stood, despite the slight limp in his left leg. "You are a worthy opponent." He admitted in a rough voice. "Kirridwen will be pleased when I give you as sacrifice on her alter."
Mozenrath felt his skin burn as white hot magic engulfed him, searing his very bones with energy. He felt himself hit the floor with a thud and his eyes went fuzzy in confusion. "Kirridwen? That is the god you serve?"
"Goddess. And she is only MY Patron. I serve all the gods and spirits." Mozenrath felt a small bolt hit his side as he tried to stand, pushing him back to the floor. "Bow down sorcerer, and your death will be honorable."
"What is honor to a warlock?" Mozenrath argued, flinging his magic once again. His attack caught the leader off guard and Mozenrath grinned as the man was thrown on his back. Mozenrath did not give him another chance to attack. He sent his magic flying, taking enjoyment when the white robe stopped moving. "Why don't you scream? It's much more entertaining that way." Mozenrath grabbed the front of the robe and hauled his attacker up.
"A Kelti woman never scream!" Said the white hood indignantly.
"What?" Mozenrath ripped the hood off. His jaw dropped at the sight of the fire, womanly handsome features capped by thick red hair and the purest green eyes he'd ever seen. "A woman!"
He saw her face clench in anger, but he didn't have time to block before her knee connected with his crotch. Somewhere above him, he heard a female voice issuing orders with commanding tone. Mozenrath felt two men grab his arms, hauling his hands behind his back as he gasped for air and locking thick manacles on his wrists.
"Remove that glove of his." The woman ordered and lifted Mozenrath's chin with a finger. "You have been a worthy opponent Mozenrath. I will hold a banquet in your honor before your sacrifice to the goddess Kirridwen. May you die as bravely as you fight."
Mozenrath, still to rattled to say anything, could only grunt his displeasure as the guards dragged him off.
Kirri smiled as Gwion landed on her shoulder, carrying a struggling Xerxes in his claws. "Hello there little one." Kirri gently removed Xerxes and held him tightly. "So you're the sorcerer's little familiar?" Xerxes snarled and arched his back as if to strike. "Settle down little one. I won't be the one to hurt you." She scratched behind the eels fin, making Xerxes purr.
"There we are now." She let go of the eel, allowing it to hover near by as she stroked his scales. "Now then. That sorcerer was cruel to you, wasn't he?" Kirri asked sweetly. Xerxes shook his head yes, then eeped his fear, looking around for Mozenrath.
"Oh don't worry about him. He can't hurt you any more. I on the other hand, take excellent care of my familiars." Kirri patted Gwion fondly.
"No hit Xerxes?" The eel asked meekly.
Kirri smiled. "No hit Xerxes." She promised. "Now then..Xerxes. Why don't you show me the throne room."
By:Lynn Osburn
(DISCLAMER: Aladdin....Disney property...you know the drill.)
A shrieking cry like a dieing animal resounded through the Black Sands as the invading army flowed over the dunes. Their white and green robes shone in the moonlight as if thousands of ghosts were rushing onward. At their head, a beautiful white stallion rose on it's hind legs. Atop it sat a white robed woman, her face invisible from under her cowl. She raised her hand and pointed towards the forbidding fortress and the army followed her lead.
Suddenly, the sands beneath their feet shifted! The horses balked and screamed their fright as green hands rose from bellow, grabbing soldiers and pulling them under. The army refused to stop, and brought their swords down on the attacking ghouls. Still the mamlucks rose, raising their weapons and burying them in a hilt of human flesh. Blood welled up like giant roses as the bodies of slain men and women fell.
Suddenly, the robed lady on the field raised her hands and whispered soft words. From above, a massive eagle hawk dove into the fray, ripping the eyes from the animated corpses and soaring again into the sky. It spotted the woman and landed placidly on her shoulder.
"Good work Gwion." She said as she patted the hawk and took the eyes from his talons. "Now, let us see the state of our enemy." As she held the malevolent eyes out, they glowed silver and showed her the face of a handsome black haired man, darkly dressed, with an ugly scowl on his face. He leaned over the edge of a balcony, watching the battle unfold bellow.
"Well well. It appears my advances have no put our friend in a receptive mood." She chuckled and snapped her fingers. A sheet of paper and quill pen materialized and she wrote down a quick message. "Deliver this to his majesty Lord Mozenrath, and inform him of my position."
The hawk took the message in it's beak and took off into the sky, casting it's shadow over the battlefield.
Mozenrath slammed his fist into the balcony handle, charring the marble with the flame of his gauntlet. "Where the damned Hell did they come from?" He shouted as his familiar, the sand eel Xerxes, flew by his side.
"From over sand dune?" The eel commented and was rewarded with a backhand into the wall.
"Damn damn damn damn!" Mozenrath sat down in his throne, glaring at his attending mamlucks as though it was all their fault. They had appeared from nowhere, without so much as a trumpet blast or declaration of war. Within three days this mysterious force had conquered nearly half his lands, and the only sign of a leader was a hooded figure astride a white horse.
As soon as he was within range, his magic detecting crystals had exploded. The shadowed demons who lurked in the decrepit buildings were pushed back by his very presence. The hooded general had begun to burn buildings like some odd form of purification.
Mozenrath clenched his hands and snarled in rage, throwing a magic bolt and incinerating a bookcase. ~When I find the leader of this rabble, I swear I'll.~
"The bird boss the bird!" Xerxes flew into the room, his little gray fin pointing out the window.
"What?" Mozenrath followed his eels pointing and saw the largest hawk he'd ever seen heading straight for them. He chuckled manically. "I think it's time for a little target practice don't you Xerxes?"
The eel laughed. "French fried birdie!"
But the hawk dropped it's package before Mozenrath could even fire. The scroll of paper landed at Mozenrath's feet, tied with a green ribbon. Curious, Mozenrath picked up the scroll and untied it. "What joke is he trying to play?" The page was blank.
Suddenly the page went ablaze, forming into the shape of the hooded leader Mozenrath had seen from afar. "Lord Mozenrath. I am the leader of the Kelti army. You are ordered to surrender to our forces or be trampled under our foot. You are to send word back with my familiar Gwion."
Mozenrath looked up to see the monstrous raptor staring him as if he were a nothing more than a rat. Mozenrath smirked in a way only he was capable of. "So..he wants a reply does he?"
She looked down at the burn embers of her precious Gwion. All that was left were a few soft feathers and a talon. "Stupid little man." She whispered and waved the scout away. She picked up the remains of her hawk and walked into the back of her tent. Sitting at the back, bathed in firelight and wrapped in smoking incense, was a small alter.
She placed Gwion on the alter and threw a packet of sage onto the fire. It crackled and burned as the strong scent filled the tent. She clasped her hands together and kneeled in worship.
"Kirridwen, my patron.." She spoke proudly. A strong burst of wind waved through the tent, spinning the incense smoke around and around the woman. Her hood fell away from her face, revealing mass curls of thick red hair. Her strong, firm features were topped with deep green eyes and set atop lush red lips.
Gwion's remains turned bright orange, bursting into a ball of flame and transforming into the shape of a hawk. She put her hands into the flame and drew out a raptor of flesh and blood. Gwion shook his head and chirped inquisitively.
"All is well little one." She said as she placed him back on her shoulders. "That stupid fool doesn't realize what he's up against. So be it." She lifted her face to the moonlight and snarled. "He will know the wrath Kirri!"
Mozenrath looked over his new troops. These were a new breed of mamluck he'd been creating from those unlucky Kelti who died on his territory. They were not the bones and tattered cloths his pervious minions had been. These at least had flesh and bulk on them. The same deadened look filled their dull eyes as Mozenrath waved his hand and the went off.
"Their advancing more and more every day. If this keeps up that damned Kelti will be on my throne within the week!" Mozenrath shouted out to no one. He waved his hand and a map glowed in front of him. It detailed every inch of his lands, over half of it covered in little white dots which represented his opposing army. The rest of it, scrunched up around his fortress, were little black dots representing the mamlucks.
"It's like playing a game of chess! Except I've got only the pawns and one king!" Mozenrath waved his fingers and the map vanished. His new mamlucks were having little more luck than his old. The only advantage came when their old comrades saw what had become of their friends, some of the troops balked. But that, at best, cut the Kelti's troops down by a few hundred. He was still outnumbered.
Mozenrath tapped his fingers on the edge of a table. His mood had been further soured when he saw the white robed leader sitting atop his stallion, with that damned massive hawk on his shoulders. ~At least now I have a better idea of what I'm up against. If he's powerful enough to bring a being back to life after it's been killed by dark magic.~
That qualified his adversary as a priest of some sort, perhaps even a cleric. "Perfect. A Holy Warrior!" Mozenrath sulked. No wonder his powers had little effect. Depending on what god this military served, Mozenrath was risking a lot more than just his kingdom by standing in their way. Divine entities had a way of getting very violent when some intervened with their followers.
Muttering a string of curses that crossed language boundaries, Mozenrath lifted his hand and absently petted Xerxes. "So it comes down to risking the wrath of a god, or allowing these barbarians to run me over." Nether suggestion sat well on his stomach.
"I have taken on gods before!" He said, his ego speaking for him. "And they are not as all might as their myths make them out to be. All I need is a weakness.and a way to exploit it."
Mozenrath wandered through his lab, fingering through his collection. "What do you think Xerxes? Perhaps a few well placed crystals of Ix? Maybe offer a truce gift in the form of a thirdack wall tapestry?" He chuckled ruefully. Any of those simple traps were bound to be spotted by someone as experienced in magic as the Druii.
"What I need is something a bit more inventive." Mozenrath fingered a blue hilted sword with odd runes on the side. "Something to lull this gentleman into a false sense of security.and then crush him under my boot."
But nom it was much more complicated then that. Only yesterday the Kelti leader had sent a wave of power through the city that had turned hundreds of mamlucks to dust. The move had lost Mozenrath another city block and forced him to waste his own powers replacing the lost troops.
Mozenrath pick up a text on destructive magic. Just as he flipped open the first page, the entire Citadel shook with an explosion that sent Mozenrath sprawling across the floor. He lifted his cape to shield himself from the shattered glass containers that fell to the floor. "Damn it all to Hell!"
Mozenrath hurried downstairs to find his throne room a battle ground. The doors had exploded into a flood of white and green robes. They flung themselves into battle without a moments rest, seeking out the closest mamluck and cutting it down. Worse, once their blades touched his undead guards, they fell down in a useless heap, not even a finger didget moving.
Mozenrath's gauntlet flared and he flung his magic at the intruders. Painful screamed erupted as he hit his target, turning many to ash in seconds. "I'll show you what happens when you attack a sorcerer fortress you arrogant little." he prepared to fire again.
When out of no where a bolt of white energy knocked him from his feet. Mozenrath shook the ringing from his head and glared angrily at his attacker. "You!"
The white robed leader stood before him. Indeed, at such close quarters all Mozenrath could see was the white robe. Two hands, fingertips surging with magic, were pointed straight at him, ready and waiting.
"Of all those to speak of arrogance. Physician heal thyself!" He fired another bolt of power, throwing Mozenrath into a wall.
"Upstart!" Mozenrath pushed himself up from the rubble and flung his blue black energy, catching the leader in the chest. The figure doubled over, groaning in pain and hanging onto a column for support. "I'm going to enjoy ripping the flesh from you piece by piece, and then feeding your entrails to my familiar." His next hit sent the robed one across the floor, sending tile in every direction.
The figure stood, despite the slight limp in his left leg. "You are a worthy opponent." He admitted in a rough voice. "Kirridwen will be pleased when I give you as sacrifice on her alter."
Mozenrath felt his skin burn as white hot magic engulfed him, searing his very bones with energy. He felt himself hit the floor with a thud and his eyes went fuzzy in confusion. "Kirridwen? That is the god you serve?"
"Goddess. And she is only MY Patron. I serve all the gods and spirits." Mozenrath felt a small bolt hit his side as he tried to stand, pushing him back to the floor. "Bow down sorcerer, and your death will be honorable."
"What is honor to a warlock?" Mozenrath argued, flinging his magic once again. His attack caught the leader off guard and Mozenrath grinned as the man was thrown on his back. Mozenrath did not give him another chance to attack. He sent his magic flying, taking enjoyment when the white robe stopped moving. "Why don't you scream? It's much more entertaining that way." Mozenrath grabbed the front of the robe and hauled his attacker up.
"A Kelti woman never scream!" Said the white hood indignantly.
"What?" Mozenrath ripped the hood off. His jaw dropped at the sight of the fire, womanly handsome features capped by thick red hair and the purest green eyes he'd ever seen. "A woman!"
He saw her face clench in anger, but he didn't have time to block before her knee connected with his crotch. Somewhere above him, he heard a female voice issuing orders with commanding tone. Mozenrath felt two men grab his arms, hauling his hands behind his back as he gasped for air and locking thick manacles on his wrists.
"Remove that glove of his." The woman ordered and lifted Mozenrath's chin with a finger. "You have been a worthy opponent Mozenrath. I will hold a banquet in your honor before your sacrifice to the goddess Kirridwen. May you die as bravely as you fight."
Mozenrath, still to rattled to say anything, could only grunt his displeasure as the guards dragged him off.
Kirri smiled as Gwion landed on her shoulder, carrying a struggling Xerxes in his claws. "Hello there little one." Kirri gently removed Xerxes and held him tightly. "So you're the sorcerer's little familiar?" Xerxes snarled and arched his back as if to strike. "Settle down little one. I won't be the one to hurt you." She scratched behind the eels fin, making Xerxes purr.
"There we are now." She let go of the eel, allowing it to hover near by as she stroked his scales. "Now then. That sorcerer was cruel to you, wasn't he?" Kirri asked sweetly. Xerxes shook his head yes, then eeped his fear, looking around for Mozenrath.
"Oh don't worry about him. He can't hurt you any more. I on the other hand, take excellent care of my familiars." Kirri patted Gwion fondly.
"No hit Xerxes?" The eel asked meekly.
Kirri smiled. "No hit Xerxes." She promised. "Now then..Xerxes. Why don't you show me the throne room."