2
Lord Commissar Zarackov sat up in his bed chamber after the long, dream-filled sleep he had just had. He got out of his silk bed and picked out a morning robe from the finest crafted wardrobe in the Northern Kingdom. The morning robe was a bright red colour like the sunrise that he used to look at every morning in the Partyr hills. It also had a fur line at the top made from rare Bracoot tyger fur. He pulled over the last remaining part of the robe over his shoulders just as a human official rushed in through the open door.
"Don't you knock when you come in? I could have you hanged, interrupting my privacy like that" Zarackov moaned. The official had been in such a rush he hadn't even noticed he'd done it.
"Oh sorry Lord Commissar" he squeaked embarrassingly.
"What do you want anyway, it better be important" Zarackov moaned again childishly as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The officer straightened his back remembering the importance of his message.
"Commander Jarek is back, but I think you should see the note that was in his keeping." The officer pointed towards the door. He probably had some broken legs or minor cuts but Jarek should make a good recovery and I will reward him well. The Lord Commissar thought. Lord Commissar Zarackov rose from his bed and walked towards the door and followed the man.
The officer's chain boots chattered against the cobbled stairs as they travelled through the cellar of the city towards Zarackov's war chamber.
Inside, the commander of the second legion was on one side of the chamber. He was stroking his beard thoughtfully with a scribe ready to write down anything they said. On the other side a white, mud-stained horse champed on a pile of hay on the dirty floor, looking innocent the background of the grey mouldy stone walls. Zarackov looked puzzled. Why have I been called to see a stupid horse eating hay and one of my commanders feeling his dam beard?
Zarackov's question was answered when he saw the five eviscerated heads attached to the horse on numerous ropes. The commander of the second legion, Menor, moved over towards the horse.
"We found commander Jarek and five imperial soldier's heads on the horse. Jarek's head contained a letter in… his mouth." Mener fiddled at a button on his uniform, opened a pocket and unravelled a small letter. Mener cleared his throat.
"I, the Titan Lord sends you this letter on the behalf of the Titan lands. We will not accept your offer of peace and withdrawal from the dwarven homeland and we will carry on invading till our requirements are met; first, you hand over ownership of the northern kingdoms, the Titan Lord will acquire all of your wealth. And in return we will stop the war. You already know what we will do to get our way as you can see by what used to be your commander." Mener stopped reading and crumpled the letter back into his pocket. Zarackov was outraged. He kicked a mouldy chair next to him and it turned to splinters.
"How can they ask for all that? Anyway where the hell are the one hundred men I sent with Jarek?"
"Technically you mean ninety five men sire" The scribe said, pointing to the five heads on the horse.
"Shut it" snapped Zarackov.
"By now, they are probably dead knowing brutality of the Titans. Or they could become slaves for the coal and asima crystal mines. Or worse." said Mener.
"Why are they suddenly so aggressive? It has been fifty years and now they dare to attack two free kingdoms. This is madness. I know the bastards aren't too bright but they know when they are outnumbered, this isn't right." Zarackov looked around the room, trying to find answers.
"If I remember correctly from scouts around the Titan lands told us they have just enrolled a new inquisitor, or for simple English an advisor for the Lord. I would say he's the one causing all this shit." A grin emerged on Zarackov's stubby face.
"What's the name of this inquisitor?" There was a pause while Mener carefully thought.
"Slyto"